Way Down I'll Go

Of Cautious Melody

"You know, we could skip the whole knocking-you-senseless bit if you'd just do what you're told, boy."

He studied the dried vomit beneath his knees, trying to remain upright. This was his third "client" of the night. There would be more. Dizziness, nausea, and pain tore through him like voltaic currents, and he felt himself falling.

"Whoa! You alright there, kid?"

Jo jerked weakly from the hands grasping his shoulders.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. You just looked like you were gonna fall over."

You're not there, he told himself, struggling to force air in and out of his already strained lungs.

"That's it. Breathe. Good."

Jo glanced up at the stranger who'd caught him. He had kind eyes. They reminded him of Tim's.

"You gonna be alright?"

Jo nodded, not trusting his voice.

The stranger looked uncertain. He glanced over his shoulder.

"You sure?"

Jo nodded again. 

"Chemo," he managed to grind out.

The strangers eye's softened.

"That's no fun, huh? Hang in there, bud."

Jo wasn't sure how long he sat on the bench outside the cancer center. Thoughts, desires, and fears came to blows within his brain. He was fighting the urge to slam his head against the wall when Rachel's gentle voice penetrated the fog.

I know you have secrets. But that doesn't change anything. I've only known you for a few days, but I've seen enough to know who you are. You're a good man, Jo.

You're a good man.

Those might not have been her exact words, but her faith in his character shook him as it did then. She'd seen past the mess from the very start. She'd seen past the scars and the skittishness.

She seen him.

She hadn't run.

She deserved the truth.

_______

"Hey, kid, I'm running a little late. Sam stayed for basketball practice so I'm on my way with the rest of 'em. You're turning me into a damn soccer mom..."

"Uh, Frank, could I ask you a favor?"

"Anything, kid."

"Just take the kids home. I'm gonna wait for Rachel to get off work and ride home with her. She gets off early on Wednesdays."

"You sure? That's still a long wait."

"Yeah. I need to talk to her about something."

"Ah. Well in that case, take your time. Between Drew and me, we've gotcha covered."

"Thanks, Frank."

Jo ended the call and leaned his head against the brick wall. The pit in his stomach grew until he wanted to vomit, and this time it had nothing to do with chemo. He wasn't just nervous, he was terrified. His resolve slowly began to crack, and as it did, his dad's voice crept nefariously back into his head.

You can't do it. She won't want you when she knows. She'll leave. The boys will grow up and leave. You'll be alone. No good to anyone. Hell, you might as well go back to hooking, boy, 'cause that's all you're good-

"No."

His sudden declaration scared the wits out of the young woman waiting at the next bench over. She stood and walked away, staring at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was. But he was sick of the words, sick of that voice. He'd survived that man, and all the other men for that matter.

He didn't have to listen anymore.

Picking up his phone, he called the one person who knew it all and still cared.

"Jo?"

He fought back tears as the gentle voice crackled through the phone.

"Hey, Tim... Um, sorry to bother you..."

"You're never a bother, Jo."

He smiled, blinking back the stupid dampness on his eyelashes.

"I need...damn, I don't know what I need. I just..."

Tim waited patiently as Jo took several deep breaths.

"I need a pep talk."