Reforming Dawson E-Book

JR Thompson

• Herausgeber: JR Thompson
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Who says money can't solve all of life's problems? — It works for Dawson! If only Mr. Bones would accept his generous bribes! — The man is clearly asking for trouble! Revenge is oh, so sweet! — And boy does Dawson have some ideas! Dawson is wallowing around in greenbacks. On the outside, he's a well-mannered, well-groomed young man. But on the inside, he's a self-centered, lazy, devious heathen. The 17-year-old has no respect for anyone but himself. It's true, the love of money truly is the root of all evil. Mr. Bones is prepared to pour his all into the young man. But can he drill into that thick head? It's a spiritual battle worth fighting! Reforming Dawson is the fourth novel in a series of motivational Christian fiction books which are serious yet funny at the same time and will be enjoyed by teens and adults alike. Purchase Reforming Dawson today and see if you have what it takes to become a Worthy Battle warrior!

Leseprobe

Reforming

Dawson

JR THOMPSON

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locations, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover design by JR Thompson.

Discover more about Christian Author JR Thompson and his writings atwww.jrthompsonbooks.com

All scriptures quoted and referenced in this book are taken from the Authorized King James Bible.

Copyright 2018 JR Thompson

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior permission of the author.

I am dedicating this book to Stephen Monks, a young man God allowed me to lead to the Lord and begin discipling in the summer of 2018. It is truly a pleasure to watch God working in Stephen’s heart.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Other Books By This Author

1

Dawson couldn’t resist — the temptation was too great for him. Disguising his voice, he frantically shouted, “Philip! Philip! They know what we did to Seth!... They’re coming after me!”

For a second, the call was silent; Dawson feared his probation officer had hung up the phone. Perhaps he knew it was a gag and was waiting for the punchline.

He was relieved when the confused Mr. Bones spoke again, “Um… I’m sorry… I think you have the wrong Philip.”

Dawson fought to maintain his composure. This was going to be too good! “What are you trying to pull, man? You’re the one who gave me this number!”

“Who is this?” Mr. Bones asked.

That was precisely the reaction Dawson had anticipated. “Look, man! They know we killed Seth and buried his decapitated body beneath your house.”

For a whole two seconds, Mr. Bones was quieter than a church mouse. When those two seconds were up, he thundered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh, man!” Dawson screamed. “They’re pulling in my driveway. They’re going to kill me!... I don’t know what to do!... I gotta go!”

“Wait—” Mr. Bones started to say.

Dawson slammed the phone down. Things couldn’t have possibly gone more smoothly. It was nice to have a new prank target. The man should have thought twice before turning down the money.

The seventeen-year-old wasn’t finished yet. By the time he was through, Mr. Bones would know better than to interfere in his life again. Blocking his number a second time, he dialed the suicide prevention hotline. “Hi, this is Terry Owens. One of my coworkers has barricaded himself in his office. I have reason to believe he’s going to kill himself.”

“What makes you think he’s suicidal?” the counselor asked.

“Somebody needs to get over there!” Dawson shouted in a panicked voice. “There’s no time to lose!”

“Please calm down sir,” the counselor suggested. “Can you get your coworker to talk to me?”

“No!” Dawson yelled. “He won’t talk to anybody!... Are you going to stop him or not?”

“Do you have an address for me?”

“I don’t know the exact address, but his name is Philip Bones. We work over at the courthouse. Please, hurry!” Dawson hung up before the lady could ask another question. He could only hope she would alert the authorities. Mr. Bones would die of humiliation if a media circus paraded through his office.

Oh, well! His P.O. shouldn’t have wasted an hour of his time. All the guy had to do was accept the three hundred bucks and call the meeting off. But no, he had to make things difficult. Well, two could play that game! He wondered if Mr. Bones was man enough to take what he had coming to him.

Now it was decision time. Was enough damage done for one day or should he take things a step further? He could always try to get him fired. Surely, it wouldn’t be difficult to figure out who his supervisor was.

A light bulb went off. If Dawson continued plotting, he was going to miss out on the show! Not about to allow that to happen, the teen grabbed his cell and rushed down the stairs. “See you in a bit, Tony!” he yelled while jumping over the last four steps.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” his brother asked.

“Nowhere important. Don’t worry about it.” Dawson hustled out the door and scurried into his Porsche. Cranking up the stereo, he threw his shades on and peeled out of the driveway, bound and determined to arrive at the courthouse in the nick of time.

Of course, the stupid light would change just as he got to the corner. Putting the pedal to the medal, he blasted through the red light. Thankfully, there were no cops in sight; other than the one angry horn-blower who locked up his brakes and brought his jalopy to a screeching halt, no one seemed to mind.

Rounding the bend toward the courthouse, Dawson witnessed a team of police officers and paramedics buzzing around the building like an angry swarm of yellow jackets. Dawson whipped into a parking space and joined the multitude of spectators who were beginning to assemble on the sidewalk. “What’s all the excitement about?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” a man in a maroon colored jogging suit told him.

A business lady barged into their conversation, “I heard there’s a man in there with a gun. By now, it may have turned into a hostage situation… or worse.”

That’s exactly what Dawson was hoping for. Rumors. The faster they spread, the more successful his prank would be. Perhaps he could get the lady’s imagination to go further. He prodded her, “Any idea who it is?”

“I heard it’s a disgruntled employee.”

“That’s crazy,” Dawson said. “I wonder what his motive is?”

The lady had an answer for everything, “My guess would be he’s gotten caught up in some illegal activity and knows he’s about to be busted. You know… assaulted a client, accepted a bribe, embezzled some money, blackmailed somebody. That’s how all of those sickos are. They love living the double-life until it catches up to them. Then they just want out.”

Dawson shook his head. “What a shame,” he said before politely excusing himself and moving in for a closer look — aspiring to see his P.O. being hauled away in a straitjacket. A news reporter approached him with a cameraman on her heels. “Excuse me, sir. Do you have a moment?”

Dawson scratched his chin. If he was interviewed, Mr. Bones could see the broadcast. He might even put two and two together and figure out who was behind the madness. That was it! The decision was final. “Yes, ma’am,” he smiled.

The cameraman zoomed in on him. “Thank you, sir,” the reporter said. “I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and then you can be on your way.”

“No problem,” Dawson replied.

The cameraman held up five fingers. He dropped one. Then another. And another. Eventually, his pointer finger was the only one sticking up. Pointing to the reporter, he said, “We’re on the air.”

“Good afternoon,” the reporter said. “I’m live in front of the courthouse where we’ve been told a juvenile probation officer is attempting to end his life. As you can see behind me, the sidewalks are filled with concerned citizens.” She turned to Dawson, “Sir, what do you think of all of this?”

The seventeen-year-old scanned the perimeter of the building. “I can’t believe this is happening in my neighborhood. I mean, a juvenile probation officer committing suicide? What kind of message is that sending to his clients? That it’s okay to quit on life just because they’re facing difficult times?”

“Do you have any idea who the probation officer is?”

Inwardly, Dawson was ready to burst at the seams. Should he, or shouldn’t he? Oh, he should alright! “To the best of my knowledge, they only have one — a guy named Philip Bones. I’ve heard he’s somewhat of a loner. A middle-aged guy with no friends. Clients don’t like him. Coworkers hate his guts. Never been married. Doesn’t have a girlfriend… I guess it makes sense why he’d hate his life so much, but still!”

“Sir, it almost sounds as if you harbor some ill feelings toward this man. Do you know him?”

“We’ve met, but no… I don’t have anything against the guy. Only talked to him once.”

The news reporter cut things off with Dawson in short order and moved on to interview other spectators. The vengeful teen continued watching the scene until all of the emergency responders returned to their vehicles and drove away. Sad to say, Mr. Bones wasn’t carried out. The P.O. never even showed his face.

2

Philip was at a loss for words. Who would make up such a bogus report? And if it had to happen, could they not have waited until he was home? The authorities herded all of his clients out of the building. For what? A ludicrous prank?

Brett stormed into his office, “Whose name registered on the caller I.D.?”

“It came up as unidentified, sir.”

“Unidentified, huh? We’ll see about that!” Brett marched out of the office just as abruptly as he had come in.

Philip wondered what his boss planned to do. Attempting to trace the call was a possibility, but with the guy’s number being blocked, the attempt would likely fail. Philip figured it was a disgruntled probationer — either that or a complete stranger who desperately needed to get a life.

The probation officer ambled out to the lobby where he stood by his receptionist’s desk for a moment, patiently waiting for her to end a personal telephone call.

“Okay… okay…” she said. “I wish I knew what to tell you… But, hey… I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before the receptionist could set the receiver down, Philip’s lips came unglued, “I don’t even know what to do now, Rose. All of the check-ins have already left. Is anybody else scheduled to come in today?”

“I don’t believe so,” Rose said while pulling up her calendar. “No, Philip. I’m sorry, but it looks like everybody has either already met with you or was forced out of the building.”

Philip shook his head, “That’s what I thought.” How frustrating! His entire day was completely shot thanks to someone intent on creating a realm of chaos. He was ready to pull his hair out. After giving it more thought, he said, “I’ll tell you what… I’m going to grab a few files and do some surprise visits.”

“Those are always fun,” Rose said sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah,” Philip said before returning to his office and randomly selecting three folders. First up — Linda Patterson. With school already out for the day, she was probably at the mall; that’s where he always found her.

Heading for the shopping center, Philip kept thinking about his unexpected visitors. What had he done to upset someone so badly that they would set out to ruin his reputation? Had he been too harsh with one of his clients? Made a poor judgment call? He knew there were people who didn’t like him, but this… this was more than just not liking him. It reeked of uncontrolled bitterness. Unless it was just a random, one-time event. It was always possible, though highly unlikely, that his name was just randomly selected. He could only hope that was the case. Whoever it was, the probation officer had the feeling Brett was going to uncover their identity. The truth would come out and when it did… things would get u-g-l-y.

Philip enjoyed the mall about as much as he relished the sweet aroma of non-deodorized armpits after an intense workout at the gym. Teens huddling in groups, blocking the halls. Old people having contests to see who could walk the slowest. Babies striving to improve their blood-curdling cries. Why would anyone in their right mind want to hang out there?

“Linda!” he called out, seeing his client coming out of the nail salon with a couple of her girlfriends.

“Hey,” she said with a slight wave. Linda was almost always easy-going. She headed straight toward him. “Ladies, this is my probation officer. Can you give me a sec?”

The girls slowly walked away, examining Philip from head to toe as if he was the most handsome man their eyes had ever fallen on. Somehow, the probation officer felt violated but pretended to be unphased. “How have things been going?”

“Good,” Linda said.

“Good, huh? How are you and your mom getting along?”

“Okay.”

“What if I stop by and ask her? What will she tell me?”

Linda smiled, “You know how she is, Mr. Bones. I could scrub the house from top to bottom, prepare all of her meals for her, give her a back massage, help her land a job doubling her current salary, and she’d still find something to gripe about.”

He couldn’t say it out loud, but Mr. Bones knew his client was right on target. Ms. Patterson was the pessimist of all pessimists. He had never met anyone who came even remotely close to having as negative of an outlook on life as that woman had. “Point taken,” he said. “So, let’s talk about school. You haven’t been skipping classes or forgetting to hand in homework assignments?”

“No, sir. I’m turning things around.”

“You haven’t been drinking?”

“Nope. Not while I’m on probation.”

“I would hope you wouldn’t drink after you’re released either.”

“Can’t promise you that, now.”

At least the girl was honest. That was more than he could say about a lot of his clients. “Linda, do you have any idea how badly alcohol can interfere with your future?”

“I know, Mr. Bones. You’ve only talked to me about this every time we’ve met for the last few months.”

“But you’re not going to take my word for it? You’re the kind who has to wait and learn the hard way.”

Linda smiled, “Maybe so.”

Mr. Bones wished he knew how to get the girl’s attention. As she said, he had talked and talked and talked to her about the problem. Unfortunately, she came from a long line of heavy drinkers. People who thought it was impossible to get through life without getting plastered every weekend. People who blew their money on booze. Oh, how he wanted to change that vicious cycle!

Not knowing what else to say, he decided to keep his surprise visit short. “Okay, Linda. I’ll let you get back to your friends. Just remember… I could show up anytime, anyplace.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Mr. Bones returned to his car. Next on his list — Alden Wamboldt. The kid was either at his grandma’s house or the skatepark. Probably the latter of the two. And he had better not be acting a fool.

The probation officer headed to the park. Sure enough, there he was! Alden was sitting on top of a picnic table with his face redder than a beet — not a good sign. Here he had been doing so much better with his anger. Or at least that’s what he had led Mr. Bones to believe.