Free The Long Journey to Jake Palmer by James L. Rubart Page A

before The Doors, and then immerse ourselves with the verse he created, we find a man so consumed by his spirituality, his entire being reflected truths we still are just barely starting to grasp today.”
    She reached over and picked up Jake’s cup of coffee and took a sip.
    He cocked his head and stared. “Would you like some of my coffee?”
    She laughed. “I had to see if we’re compatible.”
    “Are we?”
    “Yes.” She grinned. “So far anyway. I’ll let you know when we pass the next signpost.”
    “You’re talking about the man who suggested we crawl into our minds and play a game where we go insane, where we forget the people around us, where we forget the world, where we let go so we can break through.”
    “Yes!” She took his hands. “Maybe I should meet your old roommate. It’s rare to find someone who knows Morrison’s work like that. I am truly impressed.”
    “He’s married. My old roommate.” Jake shut his laptop, picked up his coffee, and stood. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s good to meet you, Irene.”
    “Are you a spiritual man, Jake?”
    “I believe in God and in his Son and in the Spirit of God. So I’m thinking that pretty much disqualifies me from ever worshiping in the halls of the Lizard King.” Jake backed away from the table and waved good-bye.
    The second time Peter dropped one of his setups, Jake could have sworn he was on a reality-TV prank show and the woman was a paid professional actor. Jake was sitting at Third Place Books at the end of Lake Washington with no greater ambition than to read his book and sip an overpriced cup of java.
    “Hey, Jake, what are you doing here?”
    Jake blinked and glanced up at Peter. A woman stood next to him, a shy smile on her face. Pretty, reddish-blond hair at shoulder length, average figure, height maybe five-five or -six, and an engaging smile.
    “Having coffee. Reading. You?”
    He opened his palm toward the woman. “We were headed back to the office after a sales call and decided to grab a quick cup of coffee to debrief on the meeting.”
    “Instead of debriefing in your office?” Jake tried to use his heat vision to drill a hole in Peter’s head, but unfortunately it got stuck in his imagination.
    “So many distractions there.”
    “But this is five miles from your office.”
    “So?”
    “This is a bookstore. An out-of-the-way bookstore. There’s three coffee shops between here and there. And you know I hang out here.”
    Peter turned to the woman. “I am so sorry. What am I thinking? I gotta introduce you two. Jake, this is Maggie Welker. Maggie, this is my best friend, Jake Palmer.”
    “Hi, Maggie. It’s good to meet you.”
    “You too. Peter has told me all about you.”
    Nice smile, but there was an overeagerness in her eyes that screamed DANGER.
    “Oh?”
    “Yes. Oodles and oodles and lots of gobs.”
    Maggie should have stopped right there, or Jake should have advised her to stop, but it didn’t happen. They sat down and Peter pushed Maggie’s crazy button.
    “Why don’t you tell Jake a little about yourself?”
    “Okay, okay, if you really want to hear a little bit about me. But after that, I want to hear about you.” She scrunched up her face, smiled, and poked the air in front of him. “I love flowers, I do, and if that’s wrong, well, piddle on you, they’re beautiful and they brighten everything up, and they smell so gooooooood.” She clutched her arms across her chest. “Do you love flowers, Jake? I betcha do, I know you do, or Peter wouldn’t have ever introduced us in the first place.”
    “Well—”
    “What’s your favorite kind? I mean your over-the-moon-and-back-again favorite flower. I bet it’s the same as mine, betcha it is!” She wiggled in her seat.
    “I don’t really have a—”
    “Oh, come on. Sure you do. You might not think about it all the time, I understand, men and women are different and we don’t always think about the same things, but if you dig deep,