The mortgage, credit cards, car payments, all that had been no problem to pay before, became almost impossible to pay. Past due notices started building up until finally the loans were all called in at once. Bankruptcy had been their only option. In the blink of an eye, they had lost almost everything.
Before Jake even grasped what was going on, they were moving out of their big two-story house and into a tiny two-bedroom rental on the seedier side of town. After it was all said and done Jake was just happy they were still a family, though admittedly not always a happy one.
John had always been a proud man, so not being able to provide for his family was a huge blow to him. As if it made him less of a man. Therefore, Jake had expected him to fully explode at Julia's harsh words. However, the giant of a man somehow managed to keep his cool. Even from where he stood, Jake could see the pain in his eyes.
John ran both of his calloused hands through his hair and barely above a whisper said, “Julia, you know that I have been looking. Every single day I look and look and look. I've put in applications at damn near every business in town. I’ve mowed yards, painted houses, cleaned out gutters. I don’t know what else I can do!”
“There’s got to be something else you can do, John?” she pleaded, her voice softening. “I can’t do this alone, John. I just can't.”
“Then let me call Billy,” he pleaded back, his right hand gently brushing through her dark brown hair. “Just one job would be enough to get us out of this hell hole. We could move out of this dump. Get our old life back.”
“No, John! No!" she said, knocking his hand away. "You know it wouldn’t be just one. There’d be another and another. I don't want our old lives back. I want my husband! I'm not going to be a widow and Jake is not going to lose his father just so that we can live in a nicer house, or drive nice cars again,” Tears welled up in her soft green eyes. “Damn it, John, you promised me you were done after what happened to Terry!”
“I know I did, baby, but . . . I don’t know what else I can do! I don't even have a high school diploma. There's only one thing that I'm really good at and you won’t . . .” John lowered his head in defeat. “No, I’m not going to blame you for me quitting. It was my decision,” He sighed deeply. “My only other option is Rough-necking, but no one is hiring.”
"John, listen to me," she whispered, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her gray cotton sweatshirt. "I don't want to do this . . . God knows I don't want to, but I’m going to call my dad and borrow the money. After all, he's got more than he could ever use,” Julia laid her hands gently on her husband’s chest. “We're not worrying about this for another second.” She managed a weak smile.
“Oh that’s a wonderful idea!” He said, gently grabbing her hands in his own. “Just call the miserable old bastard up and let him know where we are. I’m sure he’d just love to pay someone off at C.P.S. and have us deemed unfit parents. You know what will happen if they start digging into our past. They will ask questions that I won't have answers for.”
Julia jerked her hands away from his grasps. “That’s not fair John. It’s really not. I know he's not perfect but he would never do something like that.”
“Julia, you know what kind of man he is,” John said, softening his tone. “If he finds us . . . if we show even an inkling of weakness, he will pounce on us and have Jake taken away.”
At this point Julia had tears streaming down her cheeks. Jake couldn’t bear to watch anymore. Gently closing the door, he dropped back to the carpet, and leaned his back against his bed. Picking up one of his toys, he stared at it for several minutes as the argument continued down the hall. Their voices were muffled but he could still make out the words.
"Well, Sergeant Awesome, it looks like we lost the battle after all." Giving up on trying to tune them out, he tossed the action figure across the room where it bounced off the lid and landed in his toy box. One by one he picked up the rest of his toys until the floor was completely clean.
When he was done, he leaned back on his hands and stared up at the broken ceiling fan hanging loosely above. A bead of sweat ran down his back causing him to itch. Stretching his arm, he tried desperately to scratch it but gave up as it progressed down his spine followed by several more.
Even by West Texas standards, it was hotter than normal. Yesterday's high had topped at a hundred and eight degrees, making it the twentieth day in a row of record temperatures. Today made twenty-one. Even when the air conditioner had been working, it had done little to keep that kind of heat at bay. At least the moving air was better than the sweltering inferno Jake found himself now living in.
Behind a set of yellow, smoke stained mini-blinds, his unopened window sat begging to be opened. However, he knew if his dad caught him opening it even a crack he would be in really big trouble.
For some reason that Jake had never been able to ascertain, John had serious problems with unlocked or left open doors and windows. Especially after dark. No matter how hot it was, he would not allow them to open a window. He was even more on edge after the sun went down.
Jake couldn't even begin to count the number of times he had gotten up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, only to find his father sitting in the dark, his eyes wide open, always watching, always listening. His body jumping at every creak the old house made. Even stranger was that each time he was sitting in a different spot. One time Jake found the TV blaring loudly in the living room with John sitting cross-legged on the linoleum floor of the darkened kitchen. The next time he was in a chair leaning against the wall of Jake's room.
Jake knew it wasn't because they lived in a bad neighborhood either. John had had the same strange late night habits at their old house as well. It was as if he was expecting something bad to happen at any moment. It had unnerved Jake to the point that unless it was an absolute emergency, he did his best to hold in his pee. He asked his dad on several different occasions if everything was all right, and John's reply was always the same: "Everything is fine. Go back to bed."
Nevertheless, deep down Jake knew everything was not fine. He may have only been ten, but he could read between the lines. He wasn't afraid of his father, though the sight of a grown man sitting quietly in the dark was a bit unnerving. Far from it, he loved his dad more than anything. It was what his dad seemed to be afraid of that frightened him. If a man the size of John felt the need to keep a watchful eye on his family at all hours of the night. What could a boy of Jake's size ever hope to do against something so terrifying?
Another bead of sweat made its way down his back. Jake thought over the risk of getting in trouble for a good minute, his parent’s voices growing louder with each passing second. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders, deciding the risk was well worth the reward. “Sorry, Dad,” he said aloud.
Jumping to his feet, he practically ran to the window. Turning the rusty lock, he grabbed a hold of the bottom and yanked up with all his strength. It squeaked open about half way then stuck. A slight warm breeze eased through, teasing him.
“Awe man, come on!” He yanked again to no avail. “Does nothing work in this dump?"
Taking a deep breath, he pulled for all he was worth, but the window wouldn’t budge another inch. He struggled for a few more seconds before finally giving up. “You win this round.” He said, giving it an angry glance. Though even that tiny movement of fresh air did make him feel slightly cooler. Well . . . it's better than nothing.
Jake dropped on to his bed and using the front of his black t-shirt wiped the sweat off his forehead, leaving a very large wet spot on the front of it. Grabbing a Superman comic off the nightstand, he began rigorously fanning himself. The voices coming from the living room were now yelling, the argument in full swing.
There was no shutting them out when they were like this, so Jake picked up the taped up headphones to his Sony Walkman and put on his newest Motley Crüe tape. A couple of hours, a change of batteries, and several tapes later a loud knock came at his door.
J
ulia opened it a crack and peeked through with a bright smile on her face. Her kind green eyes had only the tinniest bit of puffiness to show she had been crying. She was dressed in her dark blue work scrubs, its pockets stuffed full with pens. Her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. In her right hand, she held an ice-cold glass of lemonade. She looked at Jake, her eyes instantly lighting up. “Hey, Jakey,” she said, leaning against the door. “Can I come in?”
“Hey, Mom,” Jake replied, pulling the headphones down around his neck. “Yeah you can come in; I was just listening to some music.”
“How are you, baby?” she asked, handing him the ice cold glass, before plopping down on the bed next to him with an exaggerated, “Humph!”
Jake took a long drink, the lemonade so cold he could feel it as it poured down his throat and into his stomach. He set the glass down on his nightstand then chomped noisily on a piece of ice. “I’m okay," again he wiped his brow with the front of his shirt. "Just hot. Really hot. But the lemonade definitely helped. Thanks, Mom," he smiled.
“You’re welcome,” She smiled back, laying her head on his shoulder. “Hopefully we’ll get the AC fixed in the next few days and things will be a little more bearable.”
“Yeah,” he said, staring up at the cracked popcorn ceiling above. He knew she meant well but they both knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Well . . .” she said slowly. “Time to go to work, and of course I’ve got the graveyard shift for another two weeks.”
"Well that's great," Jake said sarcastically. "What time will you be home?”
“Sometime after seven. But I’ll make you a deal, be good for your dad and I'll bring you back some breakfast burritos from JumBurrito. Kay?”
Jake smiled at her. “You know me too well.”
“Course I do. I’m your old Ma! Well, maybe not old . . .” They both laughed as she hugged him tight then kissed the top of his forehead.
She was almost out the door when Jake stopped her. “Mom? Before you go . . . can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything, baby. What's up?”
Jake let out a nervous sigh. “Why do you and Dad have to fight all the time?”
Julia frowned, pushing a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “How much did you hear?”
“Pretty much everything,” Jake shifted uncomfortably.
Julia sat down on the end of the bed, her eyes scanning around the room as if searching for just the right words. A deep, uncomfortable quiet hung over them. Outside a car with its stereo’s bass booming went down the street, their next-door neighbor's dog barked loudly. Julia licked her dry lips before speaking. “Jake, baby, you know I love your dad. Don’t you?”
“Yeah I know,” Jake nodded. "But why can’t you two just get along?” he asked, frustration filling his voice. “Why can’t things just be like they used to be?”
Julia sighed, her eyes filled with sadness. “I know, Jakey. Believe me, I wish the same thing too. But things are very hard right now and grownups don’t always get along. That’s just the way it is.”
“I know, Mom, but Dad’s doing the best he can! It’s not his fault all this happened. Why do you have to be so hard on him?”
She sighed again, pulling at the matching dark blue scrunchie holding her ponytail. “I’m just frustrated. Your dad is frustrated, plus this miserable heat . . . sometimes it’s all too much for us. You hold it in as long as you can but sometimes it just boils over and you explode. Today was just one of those days.”
Jake knew she loved his dad. He never doubted that, but the anger that came out in her scared him. He had a feeling that sometimes it scared her too. “I know you have to go, Mom, but can I ask you one more thing?”
She ruffled his messy brown hair with her fingers. “You can ask me anything? I’ll always make time for you.”
“Okay,” he said, though he knew she wouldn’t want to answer this one. Anytime he ever asked about his grandfather, her father, she would shut down completely, always making excuses to change the subject. Jake had a feeling he hadn’t exactly qualified for father of the year. “Mom . . ." he started slowly. "Why does Dad hate Grandpa so much? If he can help us, why not let him?”
The smile she had instantly disappeared. She cleared her throat nervously, “I really wish you hadn’t heard all that. You really need to stop listening in on our conversations.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but it’s not exactly hard! These walls are paper thin, and you two weren’t being very quiet either.”
For a brief second she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah, I guess we weren’t, were we? But some things are better left between grownups. Understand?”
“I guess so,” Jake said, fiddling with the black tape holding together his headphones. “But you said I could ask you anything.”
“Fair enough,” she nodded, but still didn’t make eye contact. “Jake, your grandpa isn’t a very nice man. Even when I was a little girl, I had a hard time getting along with him. Especially after my mother and brothers . . . well, I won’t get into that right now. But the fact is he’s never made any effort to get along with anyone, especially your dad. He hated John the minute he laid eyes on him and from that moment on he made things very hard for both of us.”
“But Dad said he would try to take me away. Why would he do that if he’s never even met me?” Jake asked, genuinely perplexed. “He can’t be that bad.”
Julia looked down at her watch. “Damn, I’m going to be late. Look, we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Okay? I promise.”
Jake knew she was just avoiding the subject, but he didn’t want her to get into trouble at work, so he nodded that he understood.
“You’re a smart boy, Jake," she smiled. "Sometimes I honestly forget that you’re only ten."
Jake managed to fake a smile for her, which she instantly saw through. She placed a hand on his shoulder then said, "Jakey, honey, listen . . . I want you to know, that whatever happens, I love you more than anything in the entire world. More than life itself. Don’t ever forget that,” She placed another kiss on his forehead. “Behave for your dad and don’t stay up all night watching TV. I’ll see you first thing in the morning,” She blew him a kiss as she rushed out the door.
“Love you too, Mom!” He yelled after her. He heard his dad’s voice in the hallway and though she just told him to stop eavesdropping, he couldn’t help himself. He tiptoed over to the door and again peeked around the corner.
John had her enveloped in a giant bear hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. "I hate fighting with you."
“Me too, babe,” she replied into his chest. She lifted up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek. John playfully lifted her off the ground, until her feet swung in open air. She laughed and swatted at him with her hands. “Let me down you big ox! I’ve got to go to work!”
John dropped her back to her feet and lovingly kissed her on the lips. “Love you, baby. I'll see you when you get home.”
“Love you too!” she said, opening the front door. “Don’t let Jake stay up all night. And Jake! Stop eavesdropping!”
Jake ducked back into his room, feeling genuinely happy for the first time since Sergeant Awesome’s victory over the alien menace. For a brief moment, he barely even noticed the sweat clinging to him.
Walking over to the window he waved as Julia started the engine on her little blue Nissan. The drive belt squealed loudly. She backed out of the drive, waved back then pulled down the street out of sight.
"Hey, buddy,” John’s voice, sounded behind him, causing Jake to jump.
Though he stood right at six feet six inches tall and weighed in at three hundred twenty pounds, almost all of it muscle, he could move swift as a cat when he wanted to. He had short, dark brown hair, with a trimmed beard and mustache, his eyes were a deep dark brown.
"Hey, uh, Dad," Jake said, realizing he was about to be in big trouble.
"Jacob Michael Griffin,” John’s ey
es narrowed in on the open window.
Oh crap, here it comes, Jake thought. "Yeah, Dad?"
"What is the rule about open windows in this house?" John crossed his arms over his chest, giving Jake his most terrifyingly serious stare.
"Uh," Jake stammered, nervously. His dad had never laid a hand on him, but the very sight of such a massive man looming above was more than enough to put the fear of God into him.
Keeping his voice low John said, “You never, ever leave a window or door open or unlocked in this house. Especially after the sun sets."
"I know, Dad. It's just, it got really hot and my fan isn't working . . . and besides the sun hasn’t set yet . . .” he trailed off. This clearly wasn't the time for excuses, so he quickly closed his mouth. "I'm sorry, Dad, it won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't,” John walked past him and easily shut the window with one hand. "Now get washed up. Dinner is on the table."
“Yes, sir,” Jake said, stepping past him. Whew! Dodged that bullet!
Stepping into the bathroom Jake washed his hands then splashed some cold water over his face and neck. The coolness felt amazing against his skin, though it only lasted a few brief seconds. Toweling off he walked into the kitchen. John was already seated at the ugly green card table that now served as their kitchen table. Memories of the giant dining room they had countless family dinners on flashed through his mind. He couldn't help but lick his lips at the memory of plates heaped with fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, with freshly baked biscuits. Disappointment filled his face when he saw the less than succulent meal waiting for him. With a heavy sigh, he sat down across from his dad and pulled the plastic cover off his microwave TV dinner.
"Yeah, I know,” John nodded as if he'd just read Jake's thoughts. "I miss it too, but the oven went out yesterday evening so this will have to do until I can get it fixed."
Great. Jake thought to himself. At least there’s not much left in his dump to break! For the rest of the meal they ate in complete silence, both with beads of sweat streaming down their faces and wet rings around their shirt collars.
C.O.T.V.H. (Book 1): Creation Page 2
