Maximum Journey

By Ish Eli

When Journey Banks has a near death experience, she gets a revelation from an unlikely stranger that will change the course of her life forever. With her new compass for living, she eventually discovers that a choice she made caused a butterfly effect that crashed into the lives of everyone she knows. As each person is touched by the waves of Jo

• Language: English
• Publisher: Last Page Books, LLC
• Release date: Jul 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781087971360

Book preview

One

December 30th, 10:03 p.m.

On the eve of New Year’s Eve with the glorious residue of Christmas still lingering through the south side of Chicago, the 67th block of Ridgeland Avenue was nearly quiet.

Okay everybody listen up. Demanded one of the voices from deep in the shadows. Nobody make a move until the door is all the way open. Timing is everything. We gotta move together, at the same time.

Alright, alright. Be cool. What are you so worried about? It’s impossible to mess this up.

What time is it anyway, a third voice asked.

A glow from a watch illuminated two red eyes with two tattooed teardrops beneath them.

They’re late! It’s already 10:07. Aye, Dove, did you call those cops over at the jail?

Yeah, and they already left, she shrugged. They should be here by now.

Every window was occupied with searching eyes, busy looking for their target. Tonight provided a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Does everybody know the signal to look for?

Yeah, we got it. We’ve been over it a hundred times already.

Almost 10 minutes later, a white Chevy Impala was making its way up the one-way block. When it reached the middle of Ridgeland Avenue, it switched the headlights off and was rolling with only the fog lights on.

That’s the signal! There it is. Now, remember, y’all, don’t move until the door is all the way open.

The white Chevy Impala pulled into the empty driveway of a three-flat apartment building. The driveway ran straight up the side and led to a garage that hugged the back alley. The driver stopped and parked near the middle of the driveway where three figures got out with anxious eyes watching them.

Why did you turn off the lights way back there? the passenger in the shotgun seat asked. You almost went to the wrong driveway.

No one bothered to answer the question. When they made it to the front porch, searching underneath a flowerpot, they found the key to the front door. While two of them held bags, the third person unlocked the door to the residence. Once the door was pushed open, just as rehearsed, the lights in the apartment were turned on at the exact same time that 32 people yelled, Surprise! and the party began.

Music and balloons surrounded a welcome home banner that was lifted over the heads of all the guests. While everyone hugged and kissed on the honoree, weed, pills, and liquor were being generously passed around. The music was being expertly mixed by a local favorite named DJ College Boy. He had Jeremih and G-Herbo’s song The Crib playing loud enough for the police to stop by. Students danced next to thugs who all welcomed back their mutual friend, Sam. She spent six months in the Cook County Jail, but she was finally released, and picked up at the gate by her best friend, Journey, who had orchestrated the entire surprise party with her boyfriend, Max. The party was a huge success and served as an appetizer for the New Year Eve’s celebration tomorrow. Journey and Max were both natives of Chicago, so pulling together a last-minute party was an extremely simple task for them.

Max was a hood legend at 25, and at 21, Journey was a typical good girl who developed a liking for bad boys and their alluring lifestyle. Although they had only met a year ago at a Chicago State University sorority party, they were kicking it more often since Sam got locked up. There was a gap in Journey’s life that needed to be filled that Max was obliged to plug, literally.

Journey couldn’t remember which drink did it, but at some point during the night, she was thoroughly inebriated. She was waiting in line to use the bathroom, that was in the master bedroom, when she slipped into a daydream while staring at a giant purple teddy bear that was on the bed. It reminded her of her childhood when life was so much simpler. Now, at her age, she was fully persuaded that she had experienced enough of life’s lessons to be considered competent to make her own way. Not only was she in her last year of college, she was also just hired as an intern for a major publishing corporation. Journey was responsible and understood how to manage money, pay bills and how to have fun. Plus, in her opinion, she had a special man in her life and her day one best friend for support if she needed them. She was mentally and physically on top of her game and winning. So, what more could the purpose of life be?

She didn’t know a better answer to the question. But what Journey did know was that she just might pee on herself if that bathroom door didn’t open up fast. It was bad enough that there was already another drunk ass girl bouncing up and down in line before her. Now, the only other bathroom had at least three people waiting in line there too.

Hurry up in there! she pleaded, but no one answered. In fact, it sounded like somebody was getting fucked behind that door. She started wondering if she could make it to the nearest restaurant or gas station before the new Niagara Falls got discovered in Chicago, Illinois.

Come on in there! she yelled while knocking on the door this time. When the only response was a clapping sound, she already knew that she had to head towards the front door.

Trying to maneuver through the packed dance floor seemed impossible, so she turned around and chose the back door as the path of least resistance. Once she started walking, the peeing sensation left, and she felt like she could beat the urge if she just kept moving. Maybe the biggest battle was all in her head. She thought, mind over matter, while she was speed walking around the back of the apartment, only to be met with an ironic disappointment. Just like the line to the bathroom on the inside, there was now a line of cars outside in the driveway behind her car, blocking her exit.

Think. Think. Think. She encouraged herself. That’s when she was reminded that when it comes to nature, it’s always "matter over mind." Then, somehow, in her drunken state she remembered that in the glove box of her car she had collected a stack of extra napkins from various restaurants.

Tonight, they gon’ finally earn their keep she thought, as she hastily ran to the car and retrieved them. Now the only problem was finding some privacy away from all the eyes that could be watching at any time. She wasn’t really shy, but she would sure hate to see herself on Instagram the next day with the hashtag #NewYearThots. So, she decided to go towards the garage by the back of the apartment to find some cover. Unfortunately, there were too many people kicking it on the back patio, so the only option left was to flood the alley like Noah’s Ark. A girl gotta do what a girl gotta do. It was a good thing she was wearing her Jordans and some cute, little, skin-tight sweatpants from Macy’s, because she ended up doing a not-so-cute trot with her knees together, to the dark and deserted alleyway. When she got behind the garage, she decided to go two doors down for good measure. With her back slightly away from the neighbor’s garage, she executed a perfect cross-fit style squat and relieved herself with a spooky-ass giggle. Smiling up at the moon with her eyes closed, she thought, this is the longest pee I ever had, before being viscously pushed over to the ground without warning. Journey was utterly in shock when she glanced up to see what looked like a 15-year-old Hispanic girl wielding a knife the size of a machete. She was pregnant and looked homeless.

Give me the money! The girl’s voice was smooth like jazz and way too calm. This wasn’t her first robbery and her menacing eyes said that she was willing to kill again. When Journey didn’t move fast enough, the little girl smacked the side of a garage can with the blade, making Journey flinch and shriek. But she wasn’t finished peeing yet. The scene was straight out of a horror movie ‘cause this psychopath literally scared the piss out of her. Frightened to death and unable to move, Journey looked up and noticed the girl had wild and wavy natural red hair and a nasty purple bruise on her jaw. Her nose was red too. She looked crazy.

She twitched and snorted uncontrollably like a cocaine addict and beneath her hooded brown eyes were a day’s worth of tear stains. The whole time, she had her belly exposed and it looked ready to explode. She had to be nine months pregnant and possibly overdue by the looks of her stretch marks and the dark line running under her baby bump. Journey didn’t know if she was mad at her or sad for her. Was she scared of her or feeling sorry for her? She wanted their eyes to meet so that they could bond with a vibe only sisterhood could stir up. Journey tried to muster up a quick smile.

Give me the money! she growled making Journey flinch again. Now! She scrunched her face like a toddler having a temper tantrum and raised the machete like she was ready to chop wood. Journey didn’t have any money. All she had was her car keys and a handful of napkins. She finally finished urinating and was trying to wiggle her pants back on when suddenly, the garage door started raising up. But it was moving way too fast to be under electronic control. It was being thrown up with sheer muscular power. In a matter of seconds, the tide had changed when a middle-aged European man emerged from the garage with an AR-15 in his hand.

That’s enough, he said, almost out of breath. You leave her alone now and get away from here.

The weapon was harnessed around his body and pointed to the ground at the ready position. He was wearing camouflage, a dark jacket, and a Desert Storm veterans cap. He looked trained and proficient but with scruffy hair and tired eyes. The pregnant girl, furious that she was being challenged, raised the blade she held and shifted towards his direction. She hissed at the man, and then rocked back and forth toward him like a cat ready to pounce. The European man, with his long, blonde hair and blue eyes, raised his AR-15 45° as a warning to the troubled youth. He gripped his masterful weapon of murderous potential.

Don’t make me do this, ma’am, please, he warned her a second time. As weird as she was, the little girl wasn’t crazy. With a puckered bottom lip, she hesitantly backed down and took slow steps backwards until she finally retreated into a gangway and disappeared into the darkness of the cruel neighborhood. Journey exhaled, realizing that she had held her breath through the entire ordeal.

Oh my God, thank you. Thank you so much!

Journey was still in shock. When she finally found her legs to stand up, the man was right there reaching down to help her to her feet.

Are you ok, ma’am?

Thank you. Thank you, she cried. I thought I was dead. Her hands were shaking and moving frantically.

You’re alive. Are you okay? What are you doing out here?

I just had to pee. I was at a party, and I had to pee, and I found tissue, so I thought I could just… she was babbling from intoxication.

Alright ma’am, relax. Just breath.

I just had to pee. Journey took deep breaths to calm down.

Maybe you should consider slowing down on the alcohol, young lady, he suggested.

Yeah, she said with puppy dog eyes. She knew he was right, and she was embarrassed that he could see through her masked sophistication.

Thank you so much. She paid him with a smile. The same smile she deployed on numerous occasions to say thanks, cut in line, or get out of tickets.

How did you know I needed help? She asked.

Well…um… He started scratching his head. Well… It’s kind of hard to explain but… God told me. He looked at her to gauge her reaction.

God told you? She asked the question like she needed him to repeat himself.

Yes. God told me. He said it like he had a revelation. And I heard him. His eyes looked like he fell into a daydream. I was in the house, sitting on the toilet. Then, I started praying. I clearly heard Him say ‘Go to the garage’. He was smiling as he spoke. Then, I went. His confidence was growing. He said go… And I went! He laughed out loud. I’ve been in this garage for nearly 28 hours, waiting. Waiting for something. He shook his head in wonder until his eyes landed on her. I… I think I was here waiting for you. He had another Revelation. Yes! I was here waiting for you! It was my purpose! He sent me to help you!

Journey was completely dumbfounded. All she knew was that this man just saved her life, and she was grateful and amazed. She didn’t fully understand the details of how or why, but if God helped her tonight, then she wanted to thank God too. She had been to church more than a few times as a kid, but it had always seemed like a formality… a Sunday routine. Actually, talking to God turned into some vain repetition of the very same blessing of the food and bedtime prayers. It lost its light and luster, just like leaving cookies and milk for Santa Claus. But what this stranger said filled her with intrigue.

How did you know? she asked. How did you know it was God? She looked into his misty eyes.

He looked into hers and said, It was amazing. Last month I was a… A struggling alcoholic he admitted, like he was at AA. Then, I cheated death and promised God I would never drink again. The man was answering her question the best he could. After that… After I gave up and sacrificed that alcohol… I started hearing His voice.

But, how? Journey was squeezing for answers.

It was a distraction, he declared. Once the distraction was out of the way, then I could hear Him clearly. The alcohol was my God. It was all I could hear and the only language I spoke. It was my distraction. It was my temptation. With the distraction gone… I could hear!

Are you an angel? She was still tipsy as fuck talkin’ crazy. You look like Jesus.

No, he said laughing. No, I don’t. Jesus definitely didn’t have blonde hair and blue eyes over there in Bethlehem. You need to study your Bible more, so you don’t sound foolish when you speak. He started walking towards his garage. Before he reached up to grip the door, he said, He’ll talk to you too. Just sacrifice whatever it is in your life that’s distracting you from His voice. Then, you’ll hear Him loud and clear. After he said goodbye, it sounded like he was weeping and praying before he slammed his garage door closed. Journey used the napkins in her hand to wipe her eyes. Then, she went back to the party and told Max and Sam everything that happened even though she was still shaken up pretty bad. It was hard to eat and digest how close she had just come to death.

Being in Chicago, she had heard many horrific stories of senseless murders all over the city. She had seen the ambulances, red tape, and countless memorials on many random streets with flowers, candles, pictures, and empty bottles decorating a new crime scene. But it never feels real until it hits close to home. She could have easily been on the news the next morning and on a t-shirt a week later, but that man talked to God and did what God said. That’s why I’m alive now.

That night she prayed to God and asked Him why He didn’t just tell her not to go in the alley. If He would have just said, You might die tonight in an alley, she definitely wouldn’t have ever drove down an alley for at least a year. She prayed and waited, but she didn’t hear His voice. She wanted so badly to hear His voice. So, she spent the rest of the night thinking about her distraction, trying to reflect.

Two

December 31st, 8:44 a.m.

It was a reflex. Max damn near punched an old lady in the back of the head who startled him awake with her screaming. Apparently, she was having a divinely inspired holy ghost possession in the pew directly in front of him.

Really? he grumbled to no one in particular. He was instantly reminded why he loathed going to church. And if looks could kill, that old lady would have fallen over dead and turned that baptism into a funeral. Max was obviously irritated, and he was losing the battle to hide his frustration. Then, he heard his name being said.

Maximum. His name seemed to roll off of Journey’s tongue like cotton candy. As she spoke, she massaged his fist into submission and offered him an irresistible gesture. There was something about the way her smile reached her eyes that made him weak every time. It was beautifully warm and reassuring. However, it was louder than the old lady. Smiling back at her, he exhaled, shook his head, and sarcastically looked up at the ceiling of the church. Then, because he knew from experience what was going to happen next, with mocking animation, he formed his mouth to silently shout the words, Please, God, don’t-

Before he could finish his rhetorical prayer, the church exploded in a symphony of roaring music, clapping, and singing. All the members were dancing and stomping like everybody was part of one of those flash mobs, and they just got the signal to begin. It was like, all at once, the atmosphere up in the third American Baptist Church on Calvary was more lit than the party scene they had just left a few hours ago. All he could do was close his eyes, hang his