Book of Days: A Novel (10 page)

Cameron jammed his notepad into his back pocket, clomped down Susan's stairs and toward his car. He did have hope mixed in with a full helping of discouragement. Cryptic answers was all he was getting. He didn't have time for Three Peaks' version of
Where's Waldo.
He needed answers before his mind went on permanent hiatus.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

A man clipped along the sidewalk directly across from Susan's house.

Who? . . . Gillum, it was Kirk Gillum.

"Hey, Kirk." Cameron gave a quick flick of his hand in greeting. "As you've probably guessed, I just met with Susan. Thanks again for the introduction."

Gillum nodded in return and kept walking.

A little more of that mayoral warmth to brighten Cameron's day.

It didn't matter. Tomorrow he'd employ an old-fashioned method of discovering what he needed to know. And he would find answers.

CHAPTER 8

On Wednesday morning Cameron headed for the Three Peaks Public Library determined to find answers. Looking in books and old newspaper articles might tell him something the Internet and the people of Three Peaks hadn't relinquished.

Five and a half hours later, after pouring over every history book housed on the sagging shelves and every article available, all he'd achieved was exhaustion. And a neck that felt like guitar strings tuned three octaves too high.

Cameron slammed a book on the history of early Oregon shut and squeezed his temples. Why couldn't he find anything? Why was this town such a vault when it came to this mysterious book?

He looked at his notes spread out on one of the library's tables in front of a huge picture window and watched a shadow creep across them as the sun started to set.

It was pointless.

"You're not getting anywhere, are you?"

Cameron turned at the sound of the voice behind him.

A young man with sky-gray eyes, a Caterpillar baseball hat and a thick black goatee sat in a corner of the library, worn cowboy boots propped up on a chair in front of him. A decades old copy of
Life
magazine rested on his chest. Jimi Hendrix was on the cover.

"No one is tossing out straight answers, are they?"

"About?" Cameron raised his eyebrows.

"Don't insult me." The man laughed. "News travels in a small town even faster than Twitter."

Cameron rubbed his chin and studied the man. His eyes were mischievous. "You really want to find out about this Book of Days nonsense?"

Cameron frowned. "Book of Days?"

"Yeah, that's the official title. What have you been calling it?"

How much should he tell Cowboy Bob? At least enough to keep him talking. "My dad said 'book of all the days.'"

The man set his boots on the ground and sat up. "Your dad?"

"That's what he called it."

"Close enough. Some people call it the 'Book of Memories.'"

He leaned in. Finally someone who didn't talk in circles. "Book of Memories?"

"Sure, supposedly it's the book where everyone's life is recorded. All their memories."

His dad's memories. Jessie's. His own.

"I need to find that book." Cameron looked directly at the man. "I have to find that book."

"Take a number."

"What do you mean?"

The man took off his hat and leaned forward. "I've wondered about the legend myself for years."

"Can you tell me the legend?"

"I just did." The man flicked his hat. "It's Native American. At least that's where they say it started. But some people in town get pretty private about it. The New Agers mostly. I don't know why. It's not that big a deal. The few outsiders who dig around and figure out what it is, come to the conclusion it's a joke and they wander off."

"So where do I go from here?"

"Talk to Jason. He's the expert on the Book of Days." The man closed his
Life
magazine and tossed it onto the end table next to his chair.

"Where do I find . . . ?"

"Jason Judah. Three Peaks' most prominent self-appointed spiritual leader."

"Self-appointed?"

"You answer every question with a question? You some kind of Socrates fan-boy?" The man broke a toothpick in two and started cleaning his teeth. "Just a little small-town humor for you."

Or small-town strangeness. "I see."

"My name is Johnny. People around here call me Johnny."

"You should have stopped with the first joke."

"I like you, Cameron." Johnny chuckled.

"Thanks." Cameron rose to his feet. "Where can I find Jason?"

Johnny pointed out the window in front of Cameron to a building on the corner across the street.

"See that tiny door between the two windows? The white one with the dark blue trim? That's where the faithful gather."

Cameron stared at the dark blue door hoping that stepping through it would change his life forever.

The door said Future Current.

Future Current? That sounded familiar. Cameron looked at his notes. Right. It was the New Age group Ann told him about. Yes. Finally he would get answers. Cameron stepped into the room, slid a few feet along the flaxen-colored back wall, and leaned against it. Jazz-rock—Joe Satriani maybe—played just loud enough for the melodic bass line and an occasional guitar riff to be heard.

Jason Judah stood in front of a polished steel podium, looking like an aged and heavier version of the Norse god Thor with curly hair, his thick dirty blond locks hanging down just below his ears.

His sixty-plus disciples leaned forward in their chairs, taking copious notes as their leader's voice rose and fell in a gentle cadence.

Two of Jason's followers he recognized: Arnold Peasley and his buddy Kirk Gillum.

"We are looking for answers. The answers are out there. We are looking for direction. The path is right in front of us. We are looking for meaning. The meaning of our lives is calling to us in every moment. We are looking for our bliss. Our bliss is waiting for us to take action.

"What do you want? You don't have because you don't ask. You can make what you want reality. We must understand that the power of the mind is limited." Jason smiled and waited, probably for the questioning looks that appeared a few seconds later.

"You expected me to say
un
limited, yes? But the mind is indeed limited; by fear, by worry, by doubt. It is time to put fear aside. To push through the doubts to the other side. To give anxiety no place in your heart ever again." Jason motioned with his hands as if beckoning his followers.

"Come now, come. Believe. Believe you can create the reality you've always dreamed of. Believe you can use the Book of Days to make everything you've ever wanted come true. Believe you can tap into its vast knowledge of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. The book is here. And if we believe, we can move mountains with its power."

Jason closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

"The book is our guide." Jason paused, then opened his eyes and grinned. "And with it we will become unstoppable."

A rush of adrenaline coursed through Cameron. Either the man was a nut case or this was the breakthrough he'd hoped for.

Jason's gaze swept slowly back and forth over the faction in front of him. On his second pass he locked on to Cameron. One by one, Jason's group followed his gaze till all eyes were riveted on Cameron.

"Are you a seeker or a believer?" Jason asked.

"Neither."

"An honest man." Jason held out his hand, palm up. "That is refreshing." He strode over to Cameron. "If you are neither a seeker nor a believer, tell us what brings you here and what we might do to help make your life more full."

Cameron couldn't tell if Jason was kidding or not. Did he make up a line like that or read it in some self-help guru's book? Neither the man nor the smile on his face moved. Jason must be serious.

"My name is Cameron Vaux."

"Welcome, Cameron."

"I'd like to talk to you about the Book of Days."

"Excellent. You've come to the right place. Let's step outside for a moment." Jason led Cameron back through the door he'd come in. After they'd walked five yards Jason said, "The book, why do you seek it?"

"My—" He glanced at Jason. A hunger in the man's eyes made him stop. "Some friends of mine mentioned it before they died. They said it was important that I find it. I promised them I would. So I'm honoring their request."

"Wise friends. And I respect your honoring their desire." Jason smiled. "I think having a discussion about the book can be arranged. Breakfast tomorrow morning, perhaps? Say seven thirty at the Outland Café?"

"I'd like to talk to you about it right now."

"Not now. Tomorrow morning."

Cameron nodded. Jason didn't seem the type to be coerced into anything he didn't want to do.

"Our journey together begins, Cameron. I believe you will find it an extremely fascinating one."

CHAPTER 9

Ann sat in her room on Wednesday morning holding a cup of bad hotel coffee as she tried to ignore the cloud of doubt that hung over her head, sending drops of anxiety into her heart.

You're supposed to be here . . . you're supposed to be here.

Repeating the phrases like a mantra didn't help.

She'd slept late, went for a run, and showered, thinking it would help her figure out if she should call Cameron. He wasn't expecting her till Saturday. Part of her wanted to announce her early arrival, and part said wait.

She decided to check in with Drew, then grab an early lunch. Getting out among people would help clear her head.

"How was the drive down?" Drew asked.

"Fine." Ann took a sip of coffee and grimaced.

"You're still feeling this is the perfect path for you to be on?"

"No, but I'm successfully ignoring all those negative thoughts." She paused. "At least I wish I were."

"Are you thinking of heading back?"

"No, I need to do this, Drew."

"Hey, do me a favor. If you have it in your laptop, could you look up the e-mail address of that photographer who came by the office last month? I want to have him take some new head shots of you and the rest of the crew."