Just a quick entry this morning – Ike wants to take me somewhere. Dad had a phone call last night at about midnight. It was the kidnappers saying where the money has to go and when, etc. We don’t even know where we’re getting that money yet, but we have to, For him.
I guess Ike just wants to check out that general area. Better go get ready.
JTH
4:50pm – 21st May 2003
Ok, so we’re meant to be meeting the bastards at a park somewhere in a few days time. Dad says he should have the money by then easily. We’ve pulled together all we can, and some people we’ve told have offered to help us out. One thing the cops keep saying is that if we give them the money they’ll kill him. Dad believes the kidnappers. To be frank, I wouldn’t trust them as far as I could spit them, but I trust Dad. Mom is still emotional, but you can’t blame her. Dad loses it still sometimes, but when he breaks down you know there’s a lot going on inside. Ike still composes every night, and it’s save to say I’ve joined him a few times. By early morning both of us have normally cried at least once. It’s been nine days, and the time has gone so slow. It feels as if it’s getting slower by the minute.
Sometimes we just sit and stare at the clock on the wall. We want it to be the day of the drop, but then again we don’t. Just in case the cops were right. We can’t help seeing pictures of our brother dead, or being shot in front of us. Why wouldn’t they do it if they think they’ll get away? They have every reason to do, because once they have their hands on the money they won’t need him anymore. I hate thinking like this, but isn’t it the truth? I can’t stand not knowing what’s going to happen.
Ike has bruises on his knuckles. If you ask him about them he’ll say something like ‘I don’t know how they got there’ or joke and say he punched someone. I caught him last night punching a wall, and he broke down in front of me. It’s something I haven’t seen since we were kids, and this time it was a lot worse. We’ve all cracked at some stage. Luckily, I was alone.
I started a song for Zac, with no help from Ike. No one’s heard it yet, as I won’t even read the lyrics out loud and I’ve never attempted to play it. It’s all written down on a scrap piece of paper I’ve hidden behind the loose board in the bedroom. That’s where I work on it. It’s a ballad, of course. I’m not sure if I’m going to let anyone hear it eventually or not – it depends on what happens to him. If he doesn’t…If I never see him again, I’ll probably burn it. If he comes out of it completely unscathed and everything returns to normal, I might consider it.
I can hear someone crying now, either Avery or Jessica. Avery has been to see a counselor already, I know because I take her. She doesn’t want Mom or Dad to know she’s seeing one, but I know the cops know, and Ike does too. Damn the police for following us everywhere, I know they do. It wouldn’t be so bad if they were actually discreet about it and kept out of sight. Whenever Avie sees one following us on the way to a session she freaks out. I just feel like going up to one of them and yelling at them to leave us alone. I know Isaac feels the same.
For now, I’d better go. If it’s Avery crying – which I think it is – she’ll need me. Ike’s not home yet.
JTH
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