Jack's Back: Evening Strolls (2/?) (354 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.71 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by EhyehAsherEhyeh (View user info) at 2006-11-15 12:10:44 EST
Part 1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/95497
Previous Series: http://www.ubersite.com/m/64199
....................................
Like I said, they shouldn't have come after my Mary. Though, in a way, it really was somewhat my fault. It all started with my nighttime walks, which I'll explain here in just a moment.
As I told you before, I found myself wrestling with my pattern of violence once Mary and I settled down. Don't get me wrong- my life became idyllic nearly overnight. Even after the shiny newness wore off and we settled down into a routine, even struggling under the new burdens of a mortgage and our upcoming wedding, I could still simply look into her face and instantly be transported to a place where everything was quiet and still and peaceful. She brought into my life all of the peace that had been missing. But simply erasing my previous life was not so easy.
I had drowned a man for getting under my skin. I had burned my neighbor's wife near to death because he had asked me some uncomfortable questions. Moving beyond these impulses was not just a matter of deciding to do so. There was a void in my life where a part of me had been removed. It was like a bad tooth had been pulled, and I couldn't stop poking the hole with my tongue..
I had trouble sleeping, and stayed up watching television early into the morning. I'd cook, I'd clean, I'd roam the internet, anything to quiet my mind and pass time until my body collapsed into sleep. Going to the gym helped some. I joined a small kickboxing club and attended classes twice a week, with another two days dedicated to weights and hitting the bag. This helped me to work out some of my bloody desires, though it soon became hard to find willing sparring partners. I also discovered that if I really worked myself, I could sometimes fall asleep a little earlier that night.
But one night I found myself awake at two in the morning, head buzzing with doubt, feeling as fresh as I had at noon. I decided to walk.
I don't remember the first few miles, except that they went by quickly. My mind raced over Cathy, Ed's burned-up wife. What would Mary think if she knew about that? Or how about Mr. Harms, whom I had casually decided to turn into shark food? But I was beyond that now. I was the new Jack. The love I'd found cancelled out all of the evil I had once so naturally dispensed.
These thoughts and a dozen variations on each swirled and circled and bit each other's tails until I found myself spent both physically and mentally, and stuck several miles from home. I was ready to go to bed, with miles to go before I'd sleep. I turned a right corner and began the long trip home.
Had it not been for that last leg of my walk, I might never have gone on another nighttime stroll. At the moment I turned to head back home, I actually felt rather foolish. I hadn't answered any questions, hadn't accomplished anything, and had only succeeded in tiring myself an hour away from my bed. But as I passed a particular low-income apartment complex, things brightened in a way that maybe only I could appreciate.
Some young men were standing in a small huddle, two of them leaning against the apartment gates and two standing on the sidewalk. The low murmur of their talking subsided as I approached, all eyes on me. I excused myself as I sidestepped the two men standing in my path. Nobody said a word. I passed them.
A hand came to rest on my shoulder. I really do not like to be touched.
I grabbed the errant hand in both of mine, and twisted as I swung my body under his arm. This left me facing him, still holding his twisted arm. He was bent over double, the only position in which he could stand without wrenching his shoulder out of socket. A quick shove-and-release sent him sprawling forward, almost kissing the pavement but catching himself at the last moment. He turned and faced me, rubbing his shoulder, with a look of pure surprise. His friends reacted.
"What the FUCK, man?"
My voice was calm, and almost friendly. "I really don't like to be touched. He surprised me; I reacted. He didn't hurt me, so I didn't hurt him. But he shouldn't have touched me."
"That's fucked up, man. You can't just roll up on us and start that kinda shit, dog. You 'bout to get yo' ass beat." This came from one of the men leaning on the gatepost. As he spoke he stood up out of his slouch and stepped toward me. I didn't let my eyes slip down to see it, but his hand reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt.
Guns don't bother me. They're tools made solely for punching holes into flesh, but lots of things can do that. A screwdriver. A car key. A sharp stick. A gun just doesn't hold for me the magical sense of intimidation that it holds for almost everyone else.
He was hoping that I had seen him reach for the piece, hoping that my balls would shrivel up into me, that I'd cower and my blood would freeze. How could he know that my blood runs ice cold all day long? He was apparently surprised when I stepped toward him. I snaked my hand lightning-fast into his pocket, and his mouth puckered up into a tight little "O" while his eyebrows arched upward. It looked almost dainty. I stepped around and behind him, bear-hugging him, and pulled his left arm behind his back. My fingers found their way over his hand clutching the gun, a little snub .38. I felt him cock it back. We both held the trigger.
We stood there for a minute, hugging with my hand in his pocket, and I could feel him moving his gun hand around. He tried to figure out how to shoot me in a way that wouldn't hit him in the process. I gently guided our shared weapon upward, chest high, pointed up and inward. If one of us fired, it would go through his neck and into my face. Sharing is caring.
The three other men stood back, their faces mirroring the shocked visage of their friend. I could feel his heart practically vibrating over mine, which kept a slow and steady pulsing.
According to an article I once read, one of the signs of a violent sociopath is that he barely reacts to images or situations of gore or violence. His heart rate does not increase, his adrenaline does not spike. He reacts the same as if you had presented him with a tub of vanilla pudding.
I felt so calm I could meditate.
I whispered in the trembling man's ear. The whole time I kept my eyes locked on those of his stunned companions, and the gun locked on that one target that would end both of us.
"You know, the problem with life is that it comes with so many options. I swear, I sometimes get so confused about what to do that I end up doing nothing at all.
"But right now, you and I are in one of those very lucky situations that you rarely encounter—where almost all the options have been stripped away and you're left with a very simple decision to make. The way I see it- and please, let me know if you think otherwise- we have three options to choose from.
"First, one of us can pull this trigger right now and we both die. I don't want that, and I doubt you do. Second, we forget the gun, and you guys can do your best to whip my ass like you promised. I like this option, hope you pick it. But understand that whether I win or lose the fight, I'm coming after you first. I'll kill you with my bare hands, with my teeth, with a rock on the ground. Before I go down, your life will end. I promise."
I was interrupted by a wet sound. He had let his bladder go. I actually felt a little embarrassed for him, and let him finish before I went on. I had told him about the two choices that would damn him. Now I offered him salvation.
"Then there's your third option. Now pay attention, because this is the one I think you're really going to like. You and I can take our hands out of your pocket here, release the hammer on the gun, and together we'll throw it over the fence on the count of three. Then I let you go, you let me go, and I walk home and go to bed.
"I might come walking by here again tomorrow night, or a week from now, or every night in between. And just like I tried to do tonight, I'm going to walk right past you without anybody bothering anybody. You and I live close to each other. We're neighbors. Neighbors watch out for each other.
"So, those are our options. Just three of them, and no matter which one you choose, your life is changed forever. Imagine that. I wish all of my life were that simple.
"Personally," and I leaned even closer, "I really hope you pick the second one. But for your sake, I recommend that you let me walk home. Let tonight be the night that you almost found out how bad things can really get."
The walk home was lovely. The previous day had been warm and so the asphalt still radiated leftover heat, but the breeze was cool. I remember walking by a long fence covered entirely in jasmine. The vines were in full bloom, thousands of tiny white flowers dotting the thick foliage like stars on a dark green sky. I pity anyone who's never been around jasmine in its early summer bloom—the smell is sweet, thick, and powdery. It smells like someone's mother.
My head was clear, and I felt elevated. Chipper. Even glass in the gutter reflected the streetlamp with a cheery amber glow. The bed and Mary's slumbering body enveloped me in a warm cocoon. Sleep was instantaneous.
With such success on my first venture, I began walking almost every night. I'd walk past all-night gas stations and seedy liquor stores, through housing projects, anywhere I thought I could find someone looking to pick a fight. Unfortunately, I didn't find anyone like that for months. The worst I encountered was a staggering drunk who fell face-first into me as I tried to pass him. I placed him on a bus stop bench and walked on in search of the predators who would be my prey.
Finally, though, Mary began to notice my absence around the house late at night, and asked about it. I told her most of the truth—that I had trouble sleeping, and walked to clear my head. My continued evening forays led to her continued questioning, until finally I invited her to join me one night.
"There's nothing mysterious about it, babe. I walk, and I think while I walk. I'm out for a couple of hours. I come home.
"But if you want to go with me tonight, you're welcome to. I'll probably be heading out at about eleven and get back by one or two. It's a long trip, but I'd love it if you came with me. You'll probably get bored halfway through."
She stayed up with me and went out into the night when I did. I blame myself for inviting her, for going on those damned walks in the first place. That night I had to kill, and I regret that death very much. That night also brought on the men who came after Mary.
At eleven o'clock, the air was misleading. It was sweet with the last of the summer's jasmine and the tang of cut lawns. The breeze blew warm and hearty. Holding hands, we walked down the driveway of our new home and out into the night.
User Reviews
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2006-11-28 16:23:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by homer42 (user info) at 2006-11-16 15:10:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm so disapointed the next installment isn't up yet. When do we get it!? Good stuff!
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2006-11-15 17:33:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by houseman (user info) at 2006-11-15 16:59:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
man I am glad you brought this series back! It is great.
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2006-11-15 13:42:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by august_sobriquet (user info) at 2006-11-15 13:17:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm really enjoying this character.
The jack series under your other user name is great. Well worth reading for anyone who hasn't.
I would enjoy it if this series continued.
Submitted by homer42 (user info) at 2006-11-15 12:53:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You're a really good writer!
Submitted by Lizz_Zero (user info) at 2006-11-15 12:27:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
The ending kinda lost me.