Seven Hundred

Chapter twenty-six The Preacher's Son

Chapter twenty-six

The Preacher’s Son

I can do this, I told myself over and over. But why did they have to make this damn machine so complicated. I slammed my fist on the washing machine and tried to figure what stupid button I supposed to push. I finally had to admit I didn’t know what the hell I was doing and trudged back to the bedroom. I’ll just have to settle with wearing Luke’s clothes again, because there was no way in hell I was calling him to ask how to run the fucking machine. 

I dug through his drawers and found some sweat pants with a drawstring. After tugging them on, I flung myself on the bed. All I wanted to do was wash my own clothes, so Luke wouldn’t have to, but I was too pathetic to do even that. Sitting up, I rubbed my face. I felt like an incompetent idiot. I sat there for a moment, trying to think of a reasonable excuse for why I was wearing his clothes. Yesterday, I had made it clear that I knew what I was doing and for Luke to stop trying to micro-managing everything. I groaned and slowly climbed off the bed. He was going to rub this in my face when he got home, I just knew it. He had even told me he was coming home early today. 

I made my way to the living room and flopped down on the couch. Picking up the remote, I flipped the TV on. It took me a minutes to figure out what stupid button made cable work, but I got it eventually. 

I stopped on the news channel and listened to the reports for a moment. It was strange to think that over the past few years I really didn’t know what was going on in the world. The only TV in Adam’s house was in his bedroom, and I wasn’t dumb enough to caught in there. Adam would think I was looking for sex, so I really didn’t know much about what was going on outside Adam’s house. 

Laying down, I listened to all the reports and the talk shows that came on right after. I didn’t know any thing about what they were saying, but it was nice to pretend that my life was normal for a moment. 

***

I woke up to someone pounding on the door. Rubbing my eyes, I stumbled off the couch and turned off the TV.

“Gavin!” yelled Luke from the outside. “It’s me, open up.”

I scowled, mad that the stupid man thought it necessary to wake me up because he forgot his keys or whatever. Unlocking the door, I opened it and stood frozen. “Jimmy,” I breathed, as I stared at the bundle in Luke’s arms. “Jimmy!” I yanked back the blankets from his face. “Oh my god, Jimmy.”

Luke somehow managed to get into the house with my frantically trying to get him. I tried to take Jimmy from Luke, but he turned his back to me.

“I got him. I don’t want to risk you dropping him.” He hurried past me towards the bedroom.

I trailed after him, not wanting to take my eyes off my one true friend. Luke kicked opened the door and laid the beaten form on the bed. I crawled up beside the boy and gently cupped his face. 

“Jimmy,” I whispered, shaking him gently. Tears began to pool in my eyes, as I saw the bruise that covered his body. Sliding my arms underneath him, I tried to pick him up so I could take him to the bathroom. Though he was practically a skeleton, I wasn’t strong enough to lifted him with confidence that I wouldn’t drop him. My own body hadn’t fully recovered from my own ordeal.

“Help me.” I looked to Luke, hoping he hadn’t heard my voice crack.

He nodded and gathered the boy in his arms. I led the way to the bathroom and started filling the tub. Luke laid him down across the tile floor. I quickly moved in and started to undress him. Luke just knelt beside me, rubbing my back. My hands were shaking as I removed his stained and tattered shirt and pants. I wiped my face, not wanting to be seen crying in front of Jimmy. I was the strong one, I reminded myself.