Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)(94)

“What’d you tell them?”

“I said we’d gotten into a heated theological discussion.”

I nod in approval. “Not even a lie. Go Jonah. So, why are we in the car? And where are we going?”

“Well we were sharing a room, and about an hour ago I heard him shuffling around. I asked him what was up and he told me not to say anything, and just leave him alone. He wasn’t a total jerk about it, or anything. He just … snuck out his window, down the drain pipe thing and that was it. He was gone.”

I nod. I only met Joe “Buck” Wells once before this morning, but he seemed much more relaxed and pleasant today than back when I first met him. Janet Wells, Matt’s mom, is such a sweetheart that when Matt filled in the details of his father’s past, it broke my heart for her. She’s a petite woman, dwarfed by both her husband and Matt, but her strength is evident and more than makes up for the difference in height. She’s probably forty, with shoulder-length blonde hair that has started showing some white. Other than that, she barely looks over thirty-five. Matt’s sister is spending the rest of her break at Janet’s parents house in Savannah, so I won’t get to meet her this trip. Given all that’s going on, I’m kind of glad she’s not here for this.



“And where we’re going is …”



“I’m not telling you unless I’m right. Just keep driving.” Jonah’s unusually assertive as he looks at his cell phone, which I can see is displaying a maps app that Jonah has muted.

“You’re kidding.”

He shakes his head. “I’m praying I’m wrong, Kennedy. I don’t want to give any lip service to the worst case scenario.”

“Okay, Just tell me where to turn.” I’m holding back because I’m grateful Jonah asked me to come along at all. I suspect he didn’t want to be the one to steal Roland’s car, and that’s why he asked me, but it’s still nice to be included. Even as an accessory.

After a few minutes of silence and a couple of right hand turns, I turn the radio on, and Jonah and I are surrounded by the modern Christian satellite station talking about Jesus being the rock on which we should stand.

“Better be a big-ass rock,” I mumble. “Because we’ve got some weight we need it to hold.”

“Do you ever doubt?” Jonah says, rolling down the window and filling the car with a chilly breeze.

“Sure,” I answer honestly.

“Like really doubt?”

I chuckle. “I guess that depends on what kind of faith you think I have. I don’t doubt God’s power, but I question his absolute authority in my life, if that makes sense. Like … I believe he’ll help me if I call, but I’m not sure about the in-between stuff.”

Jonah huffs through his nose. “God’s not a magic lamp, Kennedy. And Jesus isn’t his genie.”

“So it’s all or nothing?” I grip the steering wheel tighter.

“Hey,” Jonah holds up his hands, “I didn’t say that. God did. In the Bible.”

I shoot my eyes to Jonah for a second and twist my lips. “I’m aware. Sort of. I think I need to read more New Testament, actually.”

“But what you said to Matt about the story and God’s plan. You believe all of that?”

I take time for a long sigh. “Sometimes. I certainly feel that’s the case here, since I have no other rational explanation for why I ever set foot on CU ground or why I’m here, driving a sort of stolen car in Georgia looking for our hurt friend who’s run away.”

“Turn left and slow down a little,” Jonah instructs. “Keep your eyes forward though.”

“Don’t be weird or anything.”

“Please, Kennedy.” Something tells me to listen to bossy Jonah. So, against my own wishes, I keep my eyes forward. “Slower.”

“Mmhmm,” I answer while doing as instructed.

“Shiiiiit,” Jonah draws out in a whisper.

“I should take a right then?” I guess, judging by where his gaze is.

“Yes.”

“I’ll have to look there, though.”

He’s not biting at my attempt of mood-lightening humor, so I swallow hard and make the turn. At first glance, it kind of looks like any old parking lot in a relatively busy area of town. A Wal-Mart is in the distance, and a strip mall with a barbershop, clothing store, and pet food store all in one place is a little closer. Turning my head to see the name of the establishment we’re parking in front of, I see the name The Pink Pony.

“Is this a restaur—oh … oh …” It’s not a restaurant. Restaurants have windows. And “Live Entertainment” is usually followed by the name of a band. And, to my knowledge, restaurants aren’t typically called a “Gentleman’s Club.” And, if I’m being honest, no place I’d actually want to eat at would have such a name.

I don’t believe for a second there are gentlemen here.

“There’s his car.” Jonah points to the Hummer that is most certainly Buck’s midlife-crisis-mobile.

And it sat in this same lot.

My mind is racing. Jonah knew where to find Matt. Matt’s been here before, or at least talked about being here before.