Jack
***Author’s
notes: This story is based on a number of things- Experiences I had in Florida
last summer, things I remember from my own childhood. Mostly, it is based on a kid that my cousin and I befriended a
few years back when we were both freshman in high school.
This
kid was nine at the time I knew him. His
sister, who was nineteen and in college at Earlham where my uncle worked, often
goaded Oliver and I into watching after him.
The mother was an alcoholic and virtually nonexistent in this kid’s
life- I remember seeing her twice in the year that I knew him. The both of us suspected some kind of abuse
on the part of his step dad, who was usually the one that came after him when
he had been gone at one of our houses for a few days.
Oliver
and I both took a liking to the kid. He
was funny, smart, and extremely naive.
The three of us had a blast, during the summer in particular when he was
tagging along with us almost every day.
We were heartbroken when his family decided to move out to Arizona. His step dad scared the three of us witless
and he was terrified at the thought of being alone with him and the alcoholic
mother. I haven’t heard from any of
them since, and they weren’t at the viewing when his sister was killed in a
drunk driving episode two years ago.
All I can do is wonder and hope everything is okay.
This
story is rated pg-13 for violence and language. ***
He watched quietly as the girl emerged from the tiny apartment
house. She was wearing the torn jeans
and tank top she always wore in the blistering summer heat. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail
underneath an old, worn Yankees hat.
She was beautiful.
As usual, she
paid him no heed, just went about her work in the tiny garden that set off to
the side of the building. He watched
her every day. He wasn’t sure why. He was just drawn to her, like a bee to a
flower.
Maybe it was
because she was the only nice thing to look at in this crud part of town. The south side was a regular paradise with
its broken sidewalks, closed stores, and boarded up windows.
He had found himself riding his
bike outside the strict limits imposed by his stepfather, almost on a daily
basis, to catch a glimpse at this rare and wonderful creature. She seemed out of place here, an angel
trapped in what so closely resembled the sixth circle of Hell. What was it about her that so enthralled
him?
She looks like those old pictures of Mom. The ones from when she was in College. Before she died.
He shivered as he felt a cool raindrop land on the back of his
sunburned neck. A shadow began to creep
over the street. He looked to the sky
and saw dark clouds heavy with rain.
The other kids on the street began to head for cover as the storm
approached. He looked back at the
girl. She was quickly gathering up her
gardening tools. She paused just before
she ducked back into the building. She
smiled and gave him a little wave. Then
the door closed and she was gone.
His heart thudded in his chest.
She had never so much as glanced at him before. Was she really waving at him? No, he decided. There must have been someone else. What reason would she have to wave at an eight-year-old she
didn’t know?
He pulled his broken watch out of his pocket and looked at the
display. 5:30. His step dad would be pissed. This was the third time in a week he had
missed curfew. I won’t let him put me in the closet.
He thought. I’ll run away this time.
He’ll just find you. Another part of his mind said. And
the beating will be worse.
He was wasting time arguing with himself. He clambered off of the stone apartment steps he had been sitting
on, a process made unbearable by the enormous bruise his oversized shorts
barely covered. He mounted his bicycle
and peddled slowly home, his tender leg taking him on a new adventure in pain
with every push.
By the time he reached home, the dark clouds had almost consumed the
sky. The breeze rustled the bent palms
across the street. Distant thunder
rolled slowly across the sky, but the rain was still holding. He deposited his bike in the yard under the
sickly brown bush and slowly climbed the broken porch steps. Broken bottles littered the porch and a rank
smell hung in the air. He reached out
to grasp the handle on the screen door and a throaty groan issued forth from
the bowels of the house. He shivered as
fear played its icy fingers down his spine.
He’s drunk.
He pulled the door open, grimacing as it squeaked shrilly, and stepped
into the dark hallway. He let the door
close again and made a quick dash for the stairs.
“Jack! Is that you?”
No! Please, not this time…
“JACK! Get your ass in here
this minute!” The voice was severely
slurred, but no less menacing or terrifying.
Jack took a few cautious steps toward the living room. He stepped around dirty clothes, old boxes,
and countless bottles. He looked
tentatively through the doorway into the living room. Suddenly, HE appeared. He
towered over Jack, a massive, balding, sweaty giant. He pierced into the boy’s soul with his beady, bloodshot
eyes. Jack gasped and tried to move,
but it was too late.
“Dad…Please! I’m sorry!” His vision blurred and pain rushed to his
temples as his head was slammed into the doorframe.
“You’re late. Ag…Again. Whatthe hell…you think you doin’? Stupid boy!” He slurred. He bent
Jack’s arm behind his back and pinned him against the doorframe, leaning his
entire 320-pound weight against the boy.
“Poor little wonderin’ Jack-ey.
Never want to come and do your damn chores! What would your mother think?
You’re…so…worthless! Running
around…I oughta beat some sense into your lazy ass!”
“I’m sorry!” Jack
screamed. He felt hot tears sting
against his cheeks. The pain was
unbearable. He thought he heard his ribs cracking. “Please…it won’t happen again…I promise!” His step dad pulled back and threw him into
the wall.
“Look…at you. Crying like a
girl! Like a little pansy, wussy
girl!” He spat with disgust. “Look at you…you even look like a damn
girl!” He grabbed a handful of Jack’s
thick, black hair. Jack screamed in
pain and he slapped him hard across the mouth.
He dragged Jack down the hall, to the dark, dank closet under the
stairs.
“No! Dad, please, no!” He pushed Jack in hard, causing him to slam
his head against the back wall. Jack
tried to get to his feet, but he stumbled and fell back. His step dad slammed the door, enveloping
him in the stuffy darkness of the closet.
“If I hear so much as a sob out of you, I’m comin’ back with my
belt!” He roared at Jack through the
door. “You think your bad now…just you
wait if I hear so much as a SOB!” Jack
barely heard him stumble back through the hallway. The ringing in his ears was worse than he could ever remember
it. He tried to move, but his entire
body screamed in agony. He lay his head
back down and his vision began to swim.
The last thing he heard was the tremendous thunder and the pounding rain
as the storm finally unleashed its fury.
Jack slipped in and out of consciousness for what seemed like an
eternity. When he was finally able to
keep his eyes open, he reached out to brace himself and tried to move. He fell hard against the floor twice, and
the third time he was sure he would draw an angry stepfather to the closet to
finish what he had started. On his
fifth try, he managed to push himself to a sitting position, and still there was
no step dad. He rested for a while and
then slowly worked his way into a standing position.
He put an ear to the door and listened. There was nothing but the steady beat of heavy rain against the
house. He stood shaking for a few minutes,
half from fear, half from the throb of pain from a dozen new wounds. Part of his brain told him to Run!
Run away, and never come back! But
it was met with opposition in the form of He’s
waiting for you. He just wants you to
try and open the closet door. He’s
standing there, belt in hand, ready to finish what he started earlier.
Either way would be an
escape. Jack realized.
He pushed the door open slowly, and was met by darkness that almost
equaled that of the closet. Once again,
he could hear nothing but the steady rhythm of the rain pounding against the
house. He took a deep breath of the
stale air and crept down the hall. Jack
paused just before he reached the doorway to the living room. This
is it.
He crept silently passed the door.
He still sensed no movement in the house other than his own. He gulped down some of his fear and stole a
glance into the living room. The
enormous form of his step dad lay unmoving on the couch. Lightning flashed through the nearby window
and Jack saw that he was passed out drunk.
He continued quietly down the hall.
He waited until he was at the front door before he broke into a dead
run, slamming the screen behind him and ignoring the tremendous pain as it
ripped through him and gripped at every nerve in his body.
Jack ran until his mouth tasted of cotton and his veins pumped battery
acid. He couldn’t keep it up long. He hadn’t gone two blocks before he was
forced to slow to a trot, and finally, a slow walk. But he didn’t stop. He
just kept moving. The cold rain pelted
him mercilessly and the lightning flashed menacingly overhead. He was drenched before he knew it. His shoes
squished loudly on the pavement, and his clothes hung heavily on his tiny
frame, making his journey all the more arduous.
As he walked, his mind wandered.
What are you doing? Where are you going to go? It asked. Do you really think you can
get away? He’ll just find you…like all
the other times.
He pushed these thoughts out of his
head and kept moving. Still, the voice
in his head had brought sharp fear creeping into his belly. Thunder boomed loudly overhead and the
streetlights went out for an instant, bathing everything in all consuming
darkness. His breath caught in his
throat and he half-expected to feel the rough hands of his step dad bite into
his shoulders and drag him screaming into the dark.
The street lamps began to flicker
on and Jack's eyes darted fearfully around, searching for any sign of him. The street was still and empty. He shivered in the dark as the rain
continued to run down his back. I need someplace to hide. He thought suddenly. Until
I figure out what I'm going to do.
The natural choice for a hiding place was Soma Street. Soma was the main drag along the beach and
it would be crowded with tourists milling in and out of the bars and
shops. Most of them would be too stoned
or having to good a time to notice a little boy in oversized clothes.
He turned left and crossed the drawbridge that ran over the Old River
waterway. On the other side of the
bridge, the street slanted downward into a steep hill, opening up a view of the
Atlantic Ocean. Bright lights from the
drag danced on the water as the steady crashing of waves mixed with the music
and noise of the district.
The rain was starting to slack off by the time he reached Soma. He fell into the flow of college students
along the walk, trying to blend into the crowd as easily as he could. He was largely ignored, but he caught the
occasional curious glance from older members of the crowd. Jack quickened his pace until he reached the
divider wall that separated the Grand View restaurant from the walk. He waited until no one was watching him,
then he quickly pulled himself over, wincing as his sore joints protested. He banged his sore knee on the concrete and
stifled a cry.
He walked hurriedly through the patio area of the restaurant, trying to
avoid eye contact with a young couple that had seen him climb over the
wall. He ducked into the open lobby
area, thankful the desk clerk was busy with an angry customer, and emerged on
the opposite side of the restaurant where one of the local rock bands was
playing for contented looking barflies.
Jack emerged on the main drag and got lost in a crowd of tourists
strolling down the business side. He made
his way into one of the busier beach shops and moved to the back of the
store. Out of the grumpy looking
clerk’s site, he stood and caught his breath a moment. He leaned against a hat rack and found his
reflection staring back at him from a full-length mirror.
His face didn’t look as bad as he had thought. There was a bruise on the side of his head
and his lip was split a little. He
pushed his long hair forward, covering the bruise as best he could. He pulled his shirt up and found what he had
been expecting. His chest and arms
radiated with angry blue and black welts.
His left shoulder felt especially tender. He stretched it a little and tensed as pain flared through his
arm.
He lowered his shirt and looked back at the counter. The clerk was chatting with a pretty blonde
girl, oblivious to everything but her chest.
Jack grabbed a black fitted hat from the top of the rack, pulled it down
over his head, and hurried out of the store.
Back out on the walk, he hurried across the street to the awaiting
ocean.
The beach was dark and almost completely empty. He kicked off his shoes and sat down in the
shade of the divider wall, digging his toes into the moist sand. He allowed himself to relax, leaning his
aching back against the wall and watching the steady rolling of the waves. The water sparkled in the twilight and he
found his thoughts drifting back to his step dad. The only parent he had any conscious memory of.
He never knew a father. There
had been a mother once. But she existed
only in the farthest reaches of his memory.
The pictures he had found of her were faded with age, but that didn’t
dim the beauty of the woman he knew only in his dreams. Those pictures showed no sign of the hideous
monster that haunted every waking minute of his existence. The thing that was his step dad.
He
wiped tears from his face, angry at the unfairness of it. He had been denied a fundamental part of
every child’s happiness. He was alone
in the world.
Jack
stood and brushed sand from his shorts.
He walked down to the water’s edge and let the waves lap over his
feet. He slipped his shoes on and
trudged back up to the street. He
thought then of the girl. His
angel. Maybe his chance of happiness
was with her.
No,
he decided. She had a life of her own. She would have no time to waste on him.
But
a part of him didn’t want to believe that.
The part that yearned for happiness.
He started walking again. It was
late now and his fear had diminished.
He wondered if he had gotten lucky this time around. Perhaps his step dad had finally let him
go. Thunder rolled in the distance and
Jack’s heart sank a little as the storm began anew, the rain coming down in
cold heavy sheets. The hat he had taken
kept some of the rain off his face, but soon it too was wet and
uncomfortable. He crossed the bridge
and wandered through his neighborhood.
Soon,
Jack found himself back on the familiar street of his angel. It was almost completely dark. Only one light seemed to shine like a beacon
through the storm. He saw that it was
the porch light to her building. As he
got closer, his stomach fluttered when he saw her. She was sitting out on the front porch in a lawn chair, watching
the storm.
He stopped across the street from her.
She didn’t seem to notice him, but rather kept watching the long
skeletal fingers of the lighting as it pierced the sky.
Jack plopped down on the apartment steps he had sat on an eternity
ago. He was cold, wet, and
miserable. He supposed there were worse
places he could have been. The closet
for one. A place he was determined
never to visit again.
“Hey!” A voice called out
suddenly.
At first, he thought he had imagined it. But then he heard it again.
“Hey!” Jack looked up and saw
the girl looking right at him. “Why
don’t you come over here and get out of the rain?”
Jack was dumfounded. Was she
really talking to him?
“Come on! I won’t bite, I
promise!” She laughed. It was a good laugh, sweet and musical.
Jack stood shakily, and trotted quickly across the street. He had to shield his eyes from the porch
light a little. She smiled at him, and
offered a lawn chair next to hers. He
sat and looked at her nervously.
“Th…thanks.”
“No problem at all. I could use
a little company. My boyfriend left for
boot camp Wednesday. Going into the
Marines. I’ve been feeling pretty down
lately, but then, you look a little down yourself. Wanna talk?”
Jack looked at her a minute.
“Sure.”
“Great! Well, I guess we ought
to have proper introduction first.
Name’s Leah.” She extended her
hand. He took it.
“My name’s Jack.”
“Well, It’s good to meet you Jack.
You know, you look a little…drenched.”
He laughed a little. “Yeah, you
could say that.”
“Well, I’ve got some of John’s old clothes in the back. They’ll swim on you, but it’ll give me a
chance to run the ones you’re wearing through the dryer.” She smiled at him. A warm disarming smile. A
smile that let him know he had nothing to fear. “Come on, I’ll get you something to eat too.”
He smiled back. “Okay.”
Jack changed at the back of her apartment while she waited for him on
the porch. The clothes did swim on him, but they were a
blessing. His own clothes, heavy with
water, had been like a punishment on his aching body. He padded back through the apartment in bare feet, thankful to be
rid of his squishing shoes, and joined Leah on the porch. “Better?” she asked.
“Much better. Thanks.”
“No problem at all.” They sat
quietly for a minute. The only sounds
were the steady drum of the rain on the overhang, and the hum of the
dryer. “What do your parents think
about you being out this late?”
Jack thought for a moment.
“I…uh…don’t really know my parents.”
“Well, that makes two of us.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“They left me when I was about four.
I was in and out of foster homes until I was eighteen, then I went to
live with my aunt. I got a job, and she
set me up with enough money to take classes down at the community college. I met John during first semester last year,
and we got engaged at the beginning of the summer. And now he’s off to the Marines.
My aunt warned me about military men, but I just couldn’t help myself,”
she laughed.
He laughed too, and he felt the fear and apprehension that had an
almost constant grip on his heart begin to melt away. He looked at her and saw the missing link to his happiness. Before this meeting, he had known her in
only his imagination. Now, he sat by
her side, living out what he had only dared to dream before. She was the only friend he had ever made, he
realized. The first person that had
ever gone out of their way to be kind to him.
This realization brought tears to his eyes. They were tears of relief more than anything, and as they ran
down his face, he felt a great bubble of sorrow well up in his throat.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Her
bright blue eyes showed sympathy, an understanding that he had never seen on
any other human face.
He held back for a minute. Then
it all came gushing out. The entire
miserable story of his existence. He
was shaking as the story poured out of him.
It was like his emotions had taken control of his entire being, intent
on purging his soul of the anguish that had gripped it for so long.
She held him when he finished, his body shaking with remnants of the
sorrow and rage that it had held captive.
She stroked his hair and told him everything would be okay. That he was safe now. This must be what having a mother feels
like. He thought. This thought brought a new wave of
tears. This time, they were tears of
happiness.
Jack slept soundly that night on a cot that Leah set up in her tiny
living room, feeling safe and at peace.
When he dreamed, he dreamed of the ocean. The cool waves crashing lazily to the beach, the sun warm on his
face. Somewhere in the distance, he
thought he heard his mother’s voice, serene and beautiful.
Jack…
He felt a tickle against his foot, and he jumped awake suddenly. Leah was standing at the end of the cot,
smiling at him. “Morning.”
“Morning.” He smiled back. Sunrays beamed through the window. Jack sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked out
on the most beautiful morning he could remember. Leah sat on the cot and gave him a warm hug.
“I have to go to class this morning, but I’ll be back around noon. I want you to stay here and get some sleep
and we’ll sort things out when I get back, okay?”
“Okay.” She hugged him again
and went to the door. “Leah?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
She smiled. “Don’t mention
it.”
Jack climbed off the cot and went to the window. He watched after her until she crested the hill
and disappeared. The sun shown warm on
his face, making him feel energized. He
stretched and found that his sore joints felt infinitely better. He found himself wanting to be outside. He couldn’t remember the last time he had
really enjoyed the Florida sun.
He slipped on his shoes and stepped outside, enjoying the pleasant
morning warmth. The sun was still low
in the sky and he figured he had at least an hour before the real heat began to
bear down. He walked through the
neighborhood feeling free and happy. He
came to the corner that marked his own street and was careful to avoid it,
turning left down Barren Street instead.
He crested the small hill that marked the middle of the street and was
instantly overwhelmed by what he saw.
There were ambulances, police cars, even a fire truck, parked at odd
angles and blocking the end of the street.
Curious, he pushed his way through the crowd that had formed around the
scene. A police chief was talking to a
younger tourist who seemed terrified to the point of being hysterical. He kept pointing at a big white Lincoln that
had its front end wrapped around a telephone pole. Paramedics stood huddled around something on the ground, their
faces flushed and grim.
Jack got close enough to hear the tourist begin his hysterical fit
again.
“Oh my god! Jesus! He came out of…Oh god…He just walked out in
front of me! I…I…blew the horn…tried to
stop…Oh god! It was like he was
oblivious or something…He…he…he fucking exploded!” The man’s knees gave way and he collapsed to the ground
heaving.
What’s going on? Jack pushed his way up a
little further until he was at the front of the group. One of the paramedics went to get the
sheriff, and Jack saw what they had stared at so grimly.
The bulbous form of his step dad lay on the ground before him, a
twisted ruin of the monster he had been.
His head and face were caved in and his right arm was missing
completely. Jack felt a wave of pure horror
sweep over him. His stomach turned
foul, but he couldn’t force himself to look away.
“Oh Christ! There’s a kid! Johnson, get these people out of here!”
Three surly looking men in uniform began to push the crowd away from
the scene. Jack allowed himself to be
herded, still in a state of shock and disbelief.
He ran. Jack ran back to the
only safe haven he knew. He slipped
back into Leah’s apartment, kicked off his shoes, and climbed back into the
cot. He lay there, breathing hard, the
covers pulled up to his neck, trying desperately to forget what he had seen,
but secretly thankful that his step dad would never lay a hand on him again.