Indiscriminate

Jake owned and operated a small bookstore called "Books," located on Essex Street in the heart of Salem. At one time, Essex Street was paved with cobblestone and cars used its path to travel through town and shop in the many small stores that bordered both sides of the street.

The cobblestones have long been removed and the new age of brick has taken over. The entire street is covered with bright red brick. As the seasons came and went for many years, the weather has caused slight frost heaves in the brick, giving it a rustic and beautiful appearance.

Although there are still many small businesses, there are no cars driving through the center of Essex Street. Tourists by the thousands flock to Salem every year and are able to walk through the center of Salem without bumping into traffic.

Salem’s history of the witch trials has drawn an enormous tourist industry and most businesses have catered to their query. Every knickknack, hat and tee shirt reads "Witch City this," or "Witch city that." Salem even has its own authentic witch, Laurie Cabot, who also owns and operates a small business on Pickering Wharf called, The Cat, The Crow and the Crown.

Three theaters that once attracted hundreds of local moviegoers have been torn down in favor of mini malls and modern office space. Jake Burnett is one of the locals, but he hardly remembered the movie theaters; they were torn down when he was very young. As an ex-Salem police detective, he recalled the old police station on Central Street and still harbored ill feelings of it being abandoned in favor of a larger, more modern facility on Margin Street.

Jake sat quietly in a fold-up chair in front of his store, watching and listening to the tourists as they walked past. He heard the accents of the people as they stopped and pointed to all the things that they’ve read about and now were finally able to see them in person.

‘German, French, English,' Jake noted as he heard them talk to one another. ‘They come from all over the world to take in the history that most Salem residents take for granted.’

Even at 5:00 in the afternoon, the sun was hot and blistering, and with the humidity above 90 percent, shorts and tank tops was the dress code of the day.

Jake glanced at his watch and decided it was time to close shop. He folded his chair and put it away along with two racks of books he displayed in front of his store. The only thing on his mind was a cool shower and a short walk to Pickering Wharf for a cold beer at the Chase House.

This local watering hole served most of the small shop owners in the area. The Chase House is famous for its food, and since it is located right on the water, its atmosphere is second to none.

After locking the store, Jake walked down the alley where his 1965 Corvette Stingray was parked. He stopped, stared at his metallic blue Corvette and marveled at its sleek outline. He loved his car and took exceptional care of its maintenance. "I gotta get you an oil change, baby." He opened the door and slid behind the wheel.

After starting the engine, Jake backed out of his parking space and turned right onto Central Street and past the old police station. Glancing up at the old red brick building as he drove past, Jake made no attempt to squelch the feelings he held inside. He felt like he'd lost an old friend when the old, weather-beaten station was abandoned.

Turning left onto Lafayette Street, Jake headed for home. Approaching the intersection, the traffic light turned red. "Why is it I never make this light?" Jake said out loud. "I’ve had a red light at this intersection for as long as I can remember!"

Turning up the volume on his Corvette's custom stereo, Jake tapped his hand on the steering wheel to the beat of "Ninety Miles An Hour" by John Berry.

Glancing to his left, he noticed two girls standing in front of the Engine House Restaurant. When he turned up the stereo, they began dancing to the beat – it was obvious they wanted him to notice them. One girl hollered, "Can we come for a ride in your 'Vet?"

"Another time," Jake hollered back as the light turned green. He revved the engine and shot through the intersection. ‘Teenyboppers!’ he thought to himself, ‘They have no clue how dangerous it is to get into a car with a stranger.’

Jake lived on Lafayette Street, only two blocks before the Salem State College. He pulled into his driveway and turned off the engine. Staring at his huge two-story home, he remembered when his mother and father had lived with him. He remembered how his mother would call him in the morning for breakfast, and how his father would always add, "She means now, Jake!"

A large grin spread across his face when he thought of his parents. His father retired from General Electric Corporation, in Lynn, in 1995. Jake’s mother, a registered nurse at Salem hospital, retired two months later. Jake bought the house he was born in on 242 Lafayette Street from his parents when they moved to a retirement community in Florida. "I gotta call them tonight," he reminded himself out loud.

After showering and getting dressed, Jake called his parents in Florida. His mother always overreacted when he called. "What’s wrong, Jason?" Was always the first thing she said. As usual, he assured her nothing was wrong and that he simply wanted to say hello.

They chatted awhile and then hung up. Jake was anxious to get to the Chase House early to find a table on the deck, overlooking the water.

He walked to the television to turn it off when a news bulletin pre-empted the regular programming.

The reporter for channel four repeated the broadcast, "The fully clothed body of twenty-two-year-old Sally Grogan was found on Gallows Hill in Salem, late this morning. An unverified source said she might have been strangled, but until the autopsy is performed, the cause of death remains unknown."

The two young girls on the corner flashed through Jake’s mind. ‘Why the hell don’t these kids stop and think?’ he wondered.

Jake turned off the television and walked outside. For some reason, he decided to drive to the Chase House and hopped over the closed driver seat door and slid behind the wheel.