I look at the TV. Next up to bat is Derek, and he hits one out of the park. As the crowd roars, Jeremy and I high five it and whoop it up.
Life just can’t get better than this.
I’m on my way to something good, motherfuckers.
Chapter Eighteen
Jack
After Jeremy leaves, I sit on my couch just thinking over the last couple of weeks. My mind drifts to Lizzy...and my heart crunches. I loved that girl once, and I’m still mystified by her disappearance. I really thought I’d hear from her by now. What the fuck? What is she doing?
But who is she really? I fell in love with a beautiful woman. I thought we were destined for marriage and honestly, I don’t know how I feel about her anymore.
I haven’t been in love with a woman for years. When I met Lizzy I thought things couldn’t get any better. She’s tall and her body is voluptuous, with banging curves for days. Her dark hair cascades in long waves down her back, and she smells like rain in the spring. I would gaze into her gorgeous blue eyes and get lost in the moment. She captured my heart that first coffee, and it felt like I knew her so well.
Lizzy grew up in New York City before her parents moved her out to California. She comes from a working middle-class family and her passion for her art is what drives her. Or so I thought. She would proudly show me a new piece, she‘d chew on her lip and say, “What do you think, Jack?”
Now, let’s be honest here, I know nothing about art. But I’d stand back and take in the colors and shapes, put my arm around her and give her a squeeze. Then I’d whisper, “It’s beautiful, sweetheart.”
What the fuck, right? I just wanted to make her happy. But I couldn’t distinguish one shape from another. All of them looked the same to me, a sort of kind of blob? Jeremey and I’d laugh over that shit.
She was well travelled, though. She would tell me stories of her trips all over the country. I loved hearing about places I’ve never been. She went to Maine. I remember her telling me about the lobster rolls there. When she went to Texas, my mouth watered over her description of the fajitas.
Now I wonder if she even went to those places at all. Maybe she was always secretive and lived a life I knew nothing about. Maybe everything she told me was a lie. One lie is all it takes for me to doubt everything she ever said.
Our time together had been incredible. She and I did things I never thought I’d do. She got me involved in the art scene and she seemed so honest and true. Boy was I fooled.
We dated for a month before Lizzy invited me into her bed. One night while I was kissing her she whispered, “You want to stay?”
I swooped her up in my arms and carried her to her bedroom and laid her out on the bed. My hands were already at her buttons and hers were on mine.
I stripped off all her clothes, but she seemed bashful to me.
“Honey, don’t hide, you have a beautiful body,” I said as I pulled off her panties. The dark curly hair between her legs was primly trimmed closely down.
I laid on top of her and made out with her while my hands travelled up and down her back.
She seemed skittish to me, like a colt trying to stay on all four legs. I gently slid my hands over her breasts and she sighed, relaxing for me. She reached up and turned the light off. With the room darkened she seemed freer; she grabbed me around the neck and kissed me with more passion.
Her hands slid down my hard back to my ass. As she gripped my ass, she was pulling me to her, and I knew what she needed. I grabbed my wallet out of my pants and found the condom I had hidden in there—just in case, I’d told myself.
I rolled the condom on over my hard cock while she held tightly around it. She gasped when she felt how large my cock was, but I shrugged. I’d heard it before. Then I placed the tip by her entrance.
She said, “Jack, go slow. I want to feel every inch of you.” And wow, that got me more turned on. It was the sexiest thing she had ever said to me.
I pushed in as slow as I could, and when my cock was buried deep inside, I started moving slowly in and out. Her hips pushed up to meet me and it felt so wonderful. I came with a groan—but wait, Lizzy didn’t groan with me. I pulled back and asked, “What can I do? I want you to come.”
She shook her head and said, “Don’t worry about me.” But I did worry about her. We had passion for each other, but I never saw her fall apart.
Maybe that should have been my first clue that something was amiss? She didn’t want my mouth and would push away my hand. I thought every woman wanted to orgasm, so what the fuck? What the fuck.
I’m a baseball and beer kind of guy, and she’s a ballet and champagne girl.
Or is she?
I may never know. One lie has destroyed everything I thought I ever knew.
My idea of Lizzy has been blown up by the lies she told me.
Chapter Nineteen
Jack
It’s my last day at USF, and I’m ecstatic. I have a whole weekend stretched before me with nothing to do but relax and enjoy my hard-earned freedom. I’m leaving this shit job, and I’ve got to say I’m so relieved to hang up my briefcase. I’m going to throw that shit in the trash as soon as I’m finished with my day.
The VP came by. “Hey Jack. I’m sorry to see you go.”
“Hey Brian, thanks for stopping by. It's time for a change, you know what I mean?” I offer. I don’t want to talk to him about how I really feel. Why bother with explanations this late in the game?
“I do, yeah. I hear you’re going to work for Derek’s Kids. Sounds pretty cool. I know you are going to do great things, my friend. Working with those kids is going to be rad.” Brian was cool like that. I’ll be sorry to say so long. He was older than me by ten years and nothing really bonded us for a lifelong friendship, but I thought that out of everyone here…well, Brian was pretty damn cool.
“Yeah, I’m excited to start. I need to do something new, something challenging but kind of from the heart,” I say, smiling broadly.
“You’ll do great. I just wanted to come by and wish you good luck.” Brian stretches his hand out to me, and as we shake, I look in his eyes. “Thanks dude.” And then just like that, he’s gone.
I clean my desk out. It’s 2 pm and time to go. “Goodbye, suckas,” I say softly and walk out the door for the very last time. I’m not going to miss this place. I’m surely not going to miss this jail cell office.
I stretch my body out and almost decide to run home. I’m feeling exhilarated. My life’s changing and I’m ready for this grand new challenge. I want to grab life and shake it up like a snow globe, make it about people, people I can care about. Maybe even offer comfort to these struggling teens.
It used to kill me. Those foreclosures chipped away at me. When the foreclosure crisis came along, I was blindsided by the numbers of people stumbling into our building. They begged us to find a way to save their house, to give them a new, sane mortgage. But that’s the thing about banking: there’s no heart in the institution.
Sure, we got our bailout. Millions of dollars were poured into our coffers to save us. And yeah, the administration had this new TARP program; we were supposed to help people renegotiate their mortgage.
But the reality was, we stole houses every day. I disgusted myself with my empathetic expression and tone intended to heal their broken hearts. The number of people who came to me personally begging for a new start tore pieces from my own broken heart. All the financial institutions around the country were all the same.
We left so many families out in the cold. It shredded me. I had to follow ‘procedure.’ I got paid an enormous amount to say no with an outstretched hand. My bank account’s extremely healthy, maybe too healthy, with the blood money I was paid every fucking month.
Tone in place, handshake held out, my job was to get rid of people. People were disposable. People were expendable.
One day, when I stopped downtown to grab a cup of coffee, I saw a car I recognized sitting parked on a side street. I walked over to
rap on the door, say hello, and offer to share a coffee. As I drew closer to the vehicle…well, what I saw broke me in ways words would never convey. My old buddy from high school and his family, wife, and two kids were sleeping in the car. They had blankets spread out across their laps, and I could see the pain etched across each one of their faces. They slept in the light of the day. Even the three-year-old tugged on a blanket for security. They had no security.
What the hell was I supposed to do? I tapped lightly on the driver window and as he rolled it down. I said, “Hey Tony, come and let me get you some coffee.”
Tony looked around at his sleeping family and silently got of the car.
“I can’t go far, dude. I can’t leave them alone for wolves to find,” Tony whispered.
“Hey, I can get everyone hot drinks, okay? Right over there. Hot chocolate for the kids, coffee for you?” He nodded. He looked exhausted to me. His life had been torn down, ripped in two.
I remember when he bought his house. He was so full of hope and laughter. He had just married the love of his life, Joan, and they were starting a family soon. I haven’t seen him as much as I’d have liked since marriage and kids took up his time. But we were friends, lifelong friends, and time couldn’t destroy that kind of foundation.
As I walked across the street to grab the hot drinks, I thought of all the ways I wanted to help Tony. I couldn’t do...nothing...right? As I paid, I decided I could be accountable to my friend. After all, we are our brother’s keeper. I believe that with all my heart.
I rushed back, drinks in hand, and fuck. The car was gone. I looked for Tony’s car for hours. I drove the streets. I wanted to scream; I had a plan. I was going to bring them home. I wanted, more than anything, to help my friend.
Finally, I had to give up and throw the coffees in the trash. I was late getting back to work that day.
Maybe Tony felt ashamed to see me when he was in this position. Well, I just knew pride drove him away. I understood that kind of pride, thinking back to my sixteen-year-old self. I tried his cell, but that was turned off. I prayed he’d contact me some day. I sent him a DM on Facebook, but it sat unread for weeks. It was the last time I saw Tony. Even now, I look for him in all the back alleys of this goddamn city.
I was leaving banking for good. I was moving to a career I could be proud of. No more Tony’s to explain to, no more strangers to kick out. Hopefully my world would be a mass of yeses from now on.
In the end, I know I’ll never be back to Bank of USF. I don’t care about anyone there, except Brian. I have no need for this place. I have no friends I’m leaving behind. I leave my keys on my old desk and throw away everything I don’t want to keep. Well, that’s most of it—just crap I had collected over all these years.
I’m going to celebrate Alex-style tonight. Relief flows through me as I walk out the door for the final time. Time for a new life, I tell myself.
I can hardly wait. Just the thought of that girl makes me horny as fuck for her.
I get to my apartment door and slide the key in the doorknob. I open the door and hear, “Congratulations! You made it!”
Jeremy and Derek are inside, raising glasses to me. Jeremy hands me some champagne and I slurp it right down.
I’m blown away with this surprise. “This is amazing, guys. Thanks bro, thanks.” I look from Jeremy to Derek. “Derek, great to see you man,” I say, while I grab some more champagne. I guzzle it down and frankly couldn’t be happier as the bubbles hit my parched throat. This is so cool.
Derek Johnson is standing in my kitchen. A month ago, I only star gazed at his picture, and now he’s becoming important to my life.
“Hey, how’s the organization? I can’t wait to meet everyone,” I say with a genuine smile.
Derek takes in the scene around him, then says, “Jack, we really need you. These kids need way more time than I have to give. I’m so glad you decided to join the team.”
Yes, that’s what it is. A chance to be a part of a team. Baseball teams, workplace teams. I love the whole idea of being a part of a team.
“It’s a perfect fit for me.” We all grab another drink and go sit in my living room.
I hope I have it in me to take on a bunch of teenagers. This will be a new challenge—to be the adult in the room. I hope I’m up for it.
When I left my mom all those years ago, it was a fight every day to survive. I remember the day when I walked in on something that shredded me. It changed me forever. And I’ve never told a soul about the darkness I witnessed that day.
I hadn’t grown into a man yet when I was faced with a grisly scene I just happened upon. I screamed, “Stop it!” when I saw a stranger grab my friend Jane off the sidewalk. He threw her to the ground, ripping her clothes off. He already had his disgusting penis out of his pants as he laid on top of her, rutting her like a pig. “Help!” I screamed over and over. “I need help over here!”
I tried to beat this asshole rapist off her, but he was so much bigger than me. Jane and I lost that day. No one came to Jane’s rescue. No one came to help me drag him off her. No one came at all. I screamed and tried to beat his back with my flimsy fists flailing about. Nothing landed hard enough to stop this cruel man. He got up and punched me right in the face. His fist knocked me down and out. Then he went back to assaulting my friend Jane. When he was finished, he left her lying there, bruised and beaten. She lost more than her virginity that day. She lost her sanity. And I lost my faith in humanity.
I gently helped her up and took her to the ER. He was long gone before I could call the authorities. I had watched him viciously rape her and could do fucking nothing to stop it. Seeing her face afterward…well, I just wanted to take away all that pain and hurt. Later, I found out she almost died with a horrible case of gonorrhea. Thank god they caught it in time, but it brought her even more pain.
It broke me in ways that are hard to put into words. There was nothing I could do, and this feeling of helplessness was beyond me. I just knew I wasn’t going to let that happen to another one of my friends.
That’s when I went down to the Y and asked them to train my ass. I begged them to teach me self-defense. My tears hid behind my eyes as I pleaded, “Please, I need to learn how to defend myself, and more importantly...my friends.” I still wore the black eyes that asshole had left, caving in my face like he did. I never found out his name. He fucking got away with this horrible crime.
I was grateful they took me in. They trained me to fight, and I spent hours building up my muscles. I was never going to watch another grisly scene unfold before my very eyes again. I wanted to be able to fight back next time. Never again would I be a spectator to the destruction of another human being. I’ve never spoken of Jane and what went down that fateful day. Not with a soul. I knew it would affect Jeremy too much, and I didn’t want him to have that image stuck in his head like it was in mine.
I’ll never get rid of it. It was the worst day of my life. Years later, I heard that Jane took her own life. It wasn’t just the worst day of her life; it was the end of her life. It shreds me even now when I think back on Jane and what was stolen from her that day. My innocence was stolen right out of my very soul.
I’m so thankful my mother took me back. After that rape, all I wanted was to be back in the bosom of my family. I needed a safe harbor, and arms that stretched around me lovingly. Fuck, I needed my mother. She was so loving. Slowly, she eased the pain of seeing so many ugly things while I was out on my own. But that year out there on the streets shaped me into the man I am now. Every fucking ugly thing I saw created who I became later in life.
I witnessed events that were too horrific for my young mind to assimilate. I tried hard to forget. But I would never be able to forget those months grinding. I‘d need to tap into all that I learned when I was out on my own. I prayed my experiences helped guide me with these troubled teens.
I start Monday. “Yup, I’m sure those kids have a lot to teach me.” I say, looking at Jeremy with a huge gri
n.
Jeremy nods and says, “You helped me, bro. I’m sure you can help them.”
I hope I can. I don’t want to let them down.
I pray God guides me in this new venture.
I’ll try like hell to be the man they need me to be.
Chapter Twenty
Jack
I don’t know what the dress code is at Derek’s Kids, but I know one thing for sure. I’m not going in as a fake-ass man; those suits aren’t me. I donated all of them to Salvation Army and am dedicated to be the man I really am. I’m sick of being the suit and want to be known as the good guy for a goddamn change. You know, the guy you can come to with your problems. Yeah, that guy. Maybe it’s too much to ask, but I’m going in strong.
I look inside my closet and go over the pros and cons. It feels like the first day of school, and it makes me chuckle. I’m sure these kids will school me. My heartbeat speeds up. Sweat gathers at my forehead, and I realize I’m nervous for my first day. I decide on a button-down shirt, light blue with white buttons. I pull on a pair of newer jeans up over my legs and button up the fly. I throw on my black Chucks and tie them tight. Then I run a comb through my blonde hair. My hair is getting long, and I think What the hell? I kind of like it this way.
I look in the mirror and see a man on the verge of an exciting new life.
This job’s going to take me to places I’ve never been. I need to tamp down some of my expectations. I know I have high hopes of making a mark of some kind. I need to learn the ropes first. These street kids have a lot to teach me.
The thought of coaching the team is thrilling. I show up at the field, ready to pitch a game for the first time in a long time. Kids gather around me and I hand out their assignments.
“Jones, first base. Johnson, catcher.” I continue down the list. I need to see their skill sets to refine the lineup. But I think it’s a great place to start. “Jeremiah, second base.”
The Call Page 9
