Hello, Little Sparrow by Jordan Jones (the reading list .TXT) 📕

He was The Sparrow and it was what he was meant to be.

It was what he chose to be.

Trying to hide something so significant for Lincolnshire…or all of Maine seemed resistant to his calling. The vile were to die and he was the one to do it.

He’d seen the public’s outcry on TV. They wanted him to remain untethered and unleash his fury on the city.

They cheered him on.

Madison appeared indifferent, but perhaps she knew what was next.

The sign above read:

Voncroft Nursing Home

Where Lifelong Journeys Continue

Brooks slowed to a crawl as the tiny car crept up the long driveway to the massive brick building. Several of the nursing home’s residents were outside with various staff members.

Most wore sweaters although it was unseasonably warm. His eyes darted around until he spotted him.

A gruff looking man was seated by himself on a wooded picnic table, scratching behind his ears. Brooks stopped the car and got out.

He could feel Madison right behind him.

The grass in the yard was due to mow, but the elderly frolicking about didn’t seem to mind. A staff member helped a few elderly women throw pieces of bread into a small lagoon where geese rushed to snatch.

The man at the table was facing away, and although Brooks had yet to see his face, he knew him very well. The man coughed as Brooks walked closer.

Brooks sat at the table in broad daylight, blood still stained on his button up shirt and hands. Everyone around was too busy to notice.

The old man didn’t turn around but sensed him.

“It took you a while to find me,” Garret said. Brooks said nothing, but stared at the back of his father’s head. His breathing was calm, but he felt his blood pressure rise. “I was wondering if you were going to find me.”

“I found you long ago,” Brooks responded.

Garret coughed again and held a cigarette up to his mouth. He pulled out the oxygen from his nostrils and set it aside. He searched for his lighter, but had no such luck.

Brooks offered one and lit the cigarette for him.

“Doctors say I have lung cancer…pretty late stage,” Garret said. “Said I’d prolong my life a little bit by stopping this stuff. I’m not trying to prolong anything at this point. It’s here and it’s staying until I’m dead.”

Brooks nodded and gave a quick grin. He wasn’t sure what to say. He knew his father’s health was declining quickly, but didn’t know exactly why.

He’d spent the past few years driving by and watching him sit at that picnic table. It was a calming experience for Brooks seeing his father alive from the shadows. The man looked as if he was suffering in his own body, though not only physically.

Garret was welcoming death.

He gave Brooks a glance and saw all the blood and turned back around without the slightest reaction.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Garret asked facing towards the elderly women again. One nearly fell into the lagoon, but the orderly grabbed her just in time and pulled her back to safety.

Brooks said nothing.

“Your mother used to call your sister a little sparrow,” he continued. “She always thought she glided across the yard with such grace. Jo—,”

“Don’t say her name,” Brooks said, his voice monotone with a hint of uncontrollable rage.

“Your mother found the good in everyone, especially your sister.”

“Jody was only good,” Brooks answered. “She personified the word good. You did everything you could to take that away from her; from all of them. You and Uncle Samuel took those poor girls to that shed and did what you did.”

“We were young and stupid,” Garret said raising his hands in defense. “We both went to prison for it and I learned my lesson. Sammy didn’t. He kept making mistakes and it finally caught up to him.”

“There’s no coming back from what you’ve done,” Brooks reminded him. “If there was, I’d have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Well, you just might then, because I haven’t had any of those urges in years.” Garret leaned back against the table, trying to catch his breath.

Brooks laid out several pictures on top.

“I need you to see these,” he said. “I’ve had some of the vile I’ve killed look at who they hurt. Here are yours. Eight girls in all. Two of which have killed themselves. Four are doing fine, and two others are in state-run mental institutions.”

Garret faced the other way.

“I need you to turn and look at these or I will skin you alive in front of your bingo pals,” Brooks said, his eyes turning black.

Garret reluctantly turned around and immediately regretted it. The pictures were ones Garrett and Samuel took of the girls in the shed. He hadn’t seen them since the sinister acts were inflicted.

Brooks liked that it bothered him.

“I’m done, son,” Garret said, turning back to facing the lagoon. “I can’t see it anymore.”

The pictures were face-up on the table and Brooks looked to Madison, who had a sly smile across her face. Nothing could stop him.

“If you are somehow reunited with Jody…I sincerely hope you apologize for what you’ve done,” Brooks said, then buried his buck knife into the side of his father’s neck.

Garrett struggled to catch his breath and grabbed the handle, trying to pry it out.

Brooks stood up and calmly walked back to the car, this time people noticed him bloodied and walking away. He heard several screams and shouting.

He sat back inside the yellow Volkswagen Beetle and fastened his seatbelt, adjusted his rearview mirror, and put the car in reverse.

“How do you feel,” Madison asked from the back seat; her voice was as sweat as an angel.

Brooks gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Unsatisfied,” he said.

Madison knew