Crying Jack

Condolences

Chapter 2:

  The breeze was warm on your face and the smell of fresh cut grass in the air. The Sky was blue and clear. The birds were singing. To the outside world it is the perfect day. To Jack, unfamiliar faces, tears and cold marble heads stones as far as the eye can see was his world. He looked around the crowd wondering who the hell are all these people. Dozens of woman and men dressed in black and wearing sunglasses sat quietly. Paying close attention to the priest as he spoke of what a wonderful woman Jack's mother was in life.

"He didn't even know her and man it is too hot to be wearing this itchy suit" Jack thought.

The sounds of these strangers sobbing was beginning to annoy Jack. He walked up to the shiny mahogany and walnut box and looked down. 

"Do you like it Jack? Mommy worked very hard on it. It may be a little big but you'll grow into it. I know this sweater will keep you warm when you're walking home from school. If not maybe this will..." 

Jack's mother put her arms around him as she finished pulling her newly knit sweater down Jack's torso and started to kiss the top of his head over and over.

"Ok. Ok. You can stop now" 

He pulled away from his mother's arms shoving her back a little and headed for his bedroom upstairs. Jack opened his closet door where a mirror hung. He gazed at how stupid he looked with the poorly made white sweater that was twice his size. One arm was slightly longer than the other and crowned with something that resembled a hood. He turned away from his reflection, removed the sweater and kneeled down to the far bottom of his chest of drawers. "That'll never see the light of day again" he said as he stuffed it to the far back of the bottom drawer covering it with socks and undershirts. Jack closed the drawer then rose up and looked down.

"Ok that's enough Jack. There are other people here too." Jack's step father whispered to him as he pinched Jack's arm. 

Jack walked out of the way ignoring the stinging in his arm. He stood just out from under the giant tent covering the graveside and watched as the rest of the crowd said their last goodbye. 

The ride home seemed longer than usual. Jack sat in the back seat and listened to his step father on the phone.

"...Yes, really. Murdered. Stabbed twenty-four times.......In her chest........Yea I know. Well, hey if you have time we are having a gathering at my house. Come on over if you get a chance. I have to go. I'm pulling in my driveway and there are people already here. OK bye"

 Jack's step father parked the car and got out. Still sitting in the car Jack watched his step father as he walked up to the people waiting in his front lawn. He began to get annoyed with how insensitive his step father's tone was in the phone conversation a moment ago and his demeanor now. Seeing him smile and laugh with those people as though their was something to celebrate. He could feel his ears getting hot and red. His heart started to pound. Just then his step father turned to him and waved for him to "come here". Jack got out of the car and walked over.

"Jack this is Mr. Tools." In front of Jack stood an older man around 55 in a neatly pressed black suit. Mr Tools was the tallest man Jack had ever seen. He stood perfectly straight and was clean shaven.

" I've known him for a very long time. He runs a home in Alaska and was telling me hard it is to find a good hand to help out around the facility. It might be a good learning experience for you Jack. It'll help build some character. You've always said you wanted to visit Alaska."

Jack's eyes looked up and to the left thinking, I don't remember saying I wanted to go anywhere. Let alone Alaska of all places. I have no idea what he is talking about. Jack didn't say a word and just stared at his step father. Staring back as if waiting for a response Jack's step father's cell phone began to ring. "Saved by the bell" Jack thought. 

"Hello, can you hold on a sec?"

"Sorry I have to take this Mr. Tool. It was good seeing you and we'll get together soon."

Mr. Tool and Jack's step father shook hands and both walked away in different directions. Jack was left standing alone in the driveway. He watched all the people walked into his house. Some carrying giant dishes of food. Jack walked into the house and up the stairs to his room.

Seeing all those strangers in his house made Jack remember the day his mother was killed. When he ran into the house and the policeman stopped him at the top of the stair case. It felt like deja vu. He stood there for a moment and look towards his mother and step father's bedroom. The door was wide open with the foot of the bed in view just like that day. In his mind he could still see a lifeless arm dangling off the edge of the bed. Dark red blood running down the forearm and a hand with fingers that had curled up. The blood dripped from the fingertips down to the dingy white carpet. Even though the carpet had been completely removed and the bed had been replaced with one of those fancy ones you see in the catalogs the images of that day were burned into Jack's memory permanently. The sound of a plate shattering on the hardwood snapped Jack of out his trance. He turned away from his mother's room and headed into his own bedroom. The room was very dark for it being 2 in the afternoon. Jack liked to keep a blanket tacked over the window to block any bit of sunlight from coming in. Clothes scattered on the floor and some hung on a chair. Mom would call it a dungeon. Maybe it was Jack's own private dungeon. Jack took off his coat and pulled out his tucked in button up shirt then collapsed on his bed.