John's Trust | Teen Ink

John's Trust

September 17, 2013
By Emily Hogan BRONZE, West Jordan, Utah
Emily Hogan BRONZE, West Jordan, Utah
1 article 1 photo 0 comments

John panted heavily now. He had run five blocks in less than five minutes and it was taking its toll on him. I need to find someplace to catch my breath, or they’ll catch me. John darted across the street right as the crosswalk signal countdown reached zero. The cross traffic began moving; breaks squealed and several cars honked. They aren’t very far behind me now. In a panic he looked around to see where he could hide. John knew he needed to make a decision quickly. He acted on an impulse, and changed his course to head toward the city park.
John flew by all the other people using the jogging trail. Unfortunately, so did the hoodlums behind him. He rounded a corner, tripped on a rock and stumbled to the ground.

A girl sat there under a tree, reading a book. When she heard the thud, she looked up in surprise. She took one look at him and quickly grabbed his arm. She ignored his protests and quickly pulled him to the other side of the tree. She shoved him past the bushes and pushed him into a hollow in the tree.

“Trust me,” she said, as she made eye contact. John had never seen such clear blue eyes before.

He heard her carefully crawl out of the bushes and stand up. “Well hello gentlemen,” she said. “What a beautiful afternoon at the park, don’t you think?”

“Where’s the boy?” One of the men snarled.

John groaned inwardly. Maybe if I try making a run for it, they’ll see me and leave her alone. Or maybe she’ll give me away. But she said to trust her. How can I trust a complete stranger when I couldn’t even trust Mr. Mart, a family friend?

“What boy are you looking for?” she was saying. “Did you lose your son?”

“That’s none of your business. What were you doing in the bushes?”

“I was looking for my bookmark. The wind blew it away,” she said, as she waved her hand in the direction of her book on the ground.

He narrowed his eyes, as if he didn’t believe her. Just then, his cell phone rang.

“Come on, he’s probably a couple blocks ahead of us by now,” his partner said as he headed back toward the path. He fished his phone out of his pocket and shot her one final icy look as he and his partner sprinted down the trail.

It was quiet for several minutes before John heard her whisper, “Okay, you can come out now.”

He emerged from the bushes and was met by inquisitive eyes. John looked away; he didn’t feel like answering any questions right now.

“Look, I appreciate your help, but I need to be going,” he said quickly.

“No you don’t. You’re safer here because they already searched here.” She nodded her head in the direction they left. “If you go out there, you’re liable to run into them again.”

John let out a breath of air and tried to decide what to do.

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Marcy.” John was quiet for several seconds before Marcy teasingly asked, “Got a name?”

John looked sideways at her then replied, “No. Forget you ever saw me. Like I said, I appreciate your help, but I don’t want to involve anyone else.”

“Everybody needs someone to bounce ideas off of,” Marcy said.

John shook his head, but she continued, “It’s probably been a while since you ate, and you probably don’t want to go to public places tonight. I’ll grab some food while you wait here.”

John was about to protest, but his stomach growled. “Alright,” he sighed, “I’ll wait by this tree.”

As he watched her leave he thought, I’m really put my trust on the line this time. She could show up with those guys again. I wouldn't be in this mess if I hadn't been so trusting. If only John had known then what he knew now. He never would have trusted Mr. Mart.

Several minutes passed before he heard footsteps. Marcy had returned with the food. She sat down on the grass and handed John his order. As she began to eat, she steadily gazed at him.

“Well I guess you kept your end of the deal so I should keep my end,” John grumbled. Marcy grinned and nodded. “Long story short, my parents died when I was younger; there was a gas leak and a fire that destroyed our house. I moved to a foster home and then ran away a couple months ago. I found out last week that my parents’ deaths were not an accident; and the person who did it, who was a close family friend, wants to make sure I don’t tell anyone. But I guess I just messed that up because I just told you.”

John stole a glance at Marcy to see her reaction. Her jaw hung open and she was speechless, but only for a moment. “Man, I didn't know how much help you needed! Have you told anyone else?”

“No, and I don’t plan to. I shouldn't have even told you. My stomach won me over though.” John took a huge bite of his sandwich.

“What’s wrong with telling me?” she asked indignantly.

“It puts you in danger. And I shouldn’t trust anyone.” John looked at the sun, almost completely out of view now.

“What are you talking about? You need to tell the police or the FBI or someone!” she exclaimed. “What if there was some kind of criminal activity that led to your parent’s deaths?”

“I’m sure there was, but not on the part of my parents. From what I’ve found out, I think there was some hanky-panky in my dad’s business. He mentioned one night shortly before he died that money was missing. My dad found out his partner had something to do with it and was going to report him. But Mr. Mart discovered his plan and permanently put a stop to it.”

“Very good, John,” A voice snarled behind them. “I knew you were clever, but I didn’t know you were clever enough to dig up my trail.”
“Mr. Mart!” gasped John

“Yes, I will have to cover my tracks more efficiently this time. We don’t want any more ‘accidents’ to happen.”

“What do you mean ‘accidents’?” asked Marcy.

“Weren’t you listening? John just told you. I arranged for the gas to leak into their house. Everything went smoothly until John found out about it,” Mr. Mart said.

“My dad trusted you with his business. He would have trusted you with his life!”

“Now you see where trust will get you,” Mr. Mart sneered, clutching a knife. “I hope you enjoyed your meal because it was your last.”
“No, Mr. Mart. They’ll have many more meals to come.” A plain clothes FBI agent stepped out from around the tree. He held his badge in one hand and a gun trained on Mr. Mart in the other.

As he led Mr. Mart to the waiting police car he said, “Great work Marcy. We’ve been waiting for years for Mr. Mart to slip up so we could get to the bottom of this money laundering ring. His arrest will allow us to crack the case wide open. And we couldn’t have done it without his confession.”

John had a dazed look on his face. “How did you…?”

Marcy laughed. “That’s my uncle. When I told him the shady circumstances of our meeting he wanted to come along to make sure I was safe. But he sure got a lot more than he bargained for!”


The author's comments:
Be careful with who you place your trust.

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