“Doing the right thing would have been
making that bitch get an abortion,” Pop Pop growled.
I could hear Dad's teeth grind in
frustration at Pop Pop's blatant disrespect. It suddenly occurred
to me that my grandpa knew about the other kid. I thought Dad said
no one else knew? Why did Dad lie to Mom again? Why did he lie to
me?
“Dad, it's been almost ten years. When are
you going to give it a rest?”
Pop Pop slammed his fists on the table
hard, rattling and clanking the ceramic coffee cup and saucer,
“I'll give it a rest when you get that home-wrecking wench and her
little bastard out of your head! I told you back then she was no
good. I told you to just cut your ties. Now look! She's got you by
the balls for the rest of your life!” he screamed, shaking his
fists in Dad's distraught face.
“I ended it! Just like you wanted! I told
you it was over! Why won't you accept that?!” Dad yelled back.
“I want this shit stopped, Jackson,” Pop
Pop ordered.
“I'm not a little boy anymore, Dad, or a
naive teenager. You're not going to be able to control me forever,”
Dad answered angrily.
“You'll do as I say until I'm six feet
under, dammit. Do you understand me, Boy?” Pop Pop hissed
back.
There was a long cold silence that filled
the air, broken only by Mom's arrival through the front door. I
quickly darted out of my hiding place and into the living room.
Thoughts were reeling in my head.
I desperately wanted to know why Pop Pop
hated them so much. Whatever it was made me hate them too.
Somewhere deep down inside, I even started to hate Dad at that
moment as well.
*
My respect for the Old Man faded faster
than a boy band after puberty. The realization that he was nothing
more than a liar and a cheater made me sick to my stomach. Pop Pop
eventually found out that I knew about the other kid and took me
under his wing until he died. He replaced my father in a large part
of my heart. The Old Man went from being my superman to my
archenemy by the time I entered high school. Things were just never
the same after those few fateful encounters. No matter how much I
wished to go back to the way they used to be, once I knew, it could
never be reversed. Maybe that's why I started drinking so
much.
18
Coach Gregg sat humped
over his desk, head down, nose in an old swimsuit magazine. He
looked up expectantly as I entered the musty gray
office.
“Have a seat, JJ,” he motioned toward the
tattered green leather chair in front of his chipped desk. The
cushions were so cracked and pointy that it could have almost been
considered a torture device. It seemed fitting since I was in here
to get my ass handed to me.
“Recruiter called again today. Said you
were an hour late, and when you finally did show up, you were drunk
off your gourd,” he stared accusingly at me. I lowered my gaze,
more annoyed than ashamed.
Fuck that
recruiter,
I thought angrily.
“Yeah, sorry, Coach. It won't happen
again,” I schmoozed with a slight grin.
“You're damn right it won't,” he thundered
back, “They pulled the offer, JJ,” he said irritability.
I went numb for a second. I was sure I
didn't hear that right. I even laughed a little at the thought of
them actually revoking my scholarship offer.
“What did you say, Coach?
I don't think I heard you right,” I played dumb, my heart still
hoping. Thump thump.
Not now!
He pressed his lips together in a tight
scowl, shaking his head, “Boy, you need to get your shit straight,
understand? I did all I could to help you, but this time was just
too much. I'm sorry,” he left it at that and got up to open the
dirty metal door.
Thump thump. I just sat, afraid to move.
Afraid this nightmare might actually be real. I felt the all too
familiar thump thump banging in the caverns of my chest. My breath
became slightly jagged, my palms sweating.
“Coach, I...,” I started.
“Sorry, JJ,” he replied flatly, cutting me
off. His thick finger pointing rigidly toward the opened door.
No! This isn't how it's
supposed to be!
I screamed in my
head.
Thump thump thump.
I play football. I go to
college. I get the girl. I get the
fuck
out of this town!
I repeated step by step how I had mapped
out my entire life after leaving this wretched place. This wasn't
right. This wasn't how my story ends.
Thump thump thump.
My hand clutched my chest, trying to stop
the incessant beating. Coach stood motionless at the door,
completely unsympathetic.
Thump thump thump thump.
What the fuck is
happening?!
I tried to stand. My vision became a
blurred white blob mixed with cartoon style swirling stars. My
hands quickly grabbed the edge of the cold metal desk.
Thump thump thump thump.
I can't take this,
I confessed, letting my hands slip from the cool
desk, slamming into the concrete floor with a jarring thud. The
glimmering white flashes turned into dark black and purple holes as
the room disappeared, an ignorant smile painted across my
unconscious face.
Thump. Thump.
Thump.
*
I still hate that fucking game, and that
recruiter.
19
“Hey, Seth, how's it
hanging?”
“Short, shriveled, and always to left, Son.
Price of old age. How are you?” Seth Fairley gave a slight chuckle
as we exchanged our usual banter.
“Could be better,” I admitted out of the
blue, surprising even myself. I wasn't sure why, but I needed to
say it out loud. Seth looked quizzically back at me, but didn't
press further. He gave me a half, “I know what you mean”, smile and
ushered me into the Old Man's empty work office.
We stood in uncomfortable silence for a
long five minutes. I shoved my hands in my pockets, suddenly unsure
of what to do with these things that dangle at my sides. I began to
panic at the thought of having an anxiety attack in front of
Joanna's father. That thought in itself nearly threw me off a
cliff. I could tell Seth was getting a little nervous himself. He
rocked absentmindedly back and forth.
Heel to toe. Heel to toe.
The smooth rhythmic motion had an
alarmingly calm effect to my thrumming head. I watched his feet
intently, counting my breaths as his brown leather wingtips buoyed
on the linoleum floor.
“Is...there...anything I can do to help?”
Seth suddenly asked, breaking the silence and my concentration with
jackhammer force, scaring the piss right out of me. My tension
quickly eased seeing the sincerity in his eyes. I wasn't sure what
to say.
Make your daughter date
me
, wasn't exactly easy to spew out, but
that was all I could think to say. I frowned and lowered my head,
ashamed once again at my lack of confidence.
“You know I'd do anything you and your
father. If I can help in any way you let me know, okay?” he smiled
that fatherly smile again. I wished the Old Man would look like
that again.
I laughed nervously, “Uh, just put in a
good word for me at home, will ya?”
Seth's eyes flashed with sudden
understanding, “Women are a complicated species, JJ. Even when you
think you know, you don't. I'll do what I can, Son. I'd be honored
if my Joanna ended up with a nice boy like you,” he answered and
patted me on the back. The genuine smile on his face saddened me.
If he had only known the things I have done, maybe he wouldn't want
a “nice boy like me” around his daughter.
That's all over
now,
I reminded myself. I was turning over
a new leaf, just for her. I would win that girl over if it killed
me.
20
There I go again, fixating
on my grand days of old, getting all sentimental like some damn
chick. A lot of good that ever did me.
I
should have just stuck to being an asshole,
I thought angrily. At least when I was a jerk I could pretend
to be happy about it. Pretending, yes, but it was better than
feeling like shit all the time. You know, “ignorance is bliss”, and
all.
My muddy boot kicked at the decaying red
book at my feet. It's crumpled pages jutting out from every angle
of the ripped cover. I lifted my thick boot and punted that worn
out piece of crap across the dirt. It landed with a disquieting
thud against the cold silver mirror, landing upright, staring back
at me with smug maniacal laughter.
“Fuck you too, Shakespeare,” I
growled.
21
My palms were sweating as I gripped the
thick copy of “Romeo and Juliet” in my bumbly hands. The ancient
fabric soaking up all of my nervousness. I wasn't even sure if the
pages I had marked even meant anything. They sounded good, I
think.
What the fuck am I doing?
This is so stupid!
I paced back and forth along the bumpy
sidewalk, my boots making the faintest scraping sound, which
sounded thunderous in the still night. I had gone over this time
and time again in my head. Each time, I willed the end result to my
liking, deep down always fearing what might actually happen.
No, this is going to work.
She
will
love
me.
I peered up at the
picturesque little house that held my “Juliet”. I wanted so badly
to see her face, hear her voice, touch her skin. My entire being
resonated with the thought. The book, now damp, grew heavy in my
hand. I could feel myself beginning to lose my nerve.
I opened the musty pages to the first
marked section, picked up a jagged rock from the edge of the
sidewalk, and chucked it at her window.
Plink!
I waited.
After several painful seconds, I grabbed
another, slightly larger rock.
Plink!
It was actually a comfort to know I hadn't
exactly lost my aim lately, despite losing my mind. A pale glow
suddenly illuminated from my target window. Now, I only prayed it
wasn't the wrong one.
The silky curtain slowly eased away from
the glass, revealing Joanna's delicate face. She gazed around until
she found me standing frozen on the sidewalk. I let out a sigh of
relief, my heart almost melting. How did she do this to me?
What I hoped would be flirtatious curiosity
was instead a loathsome angry scowl that welcomed me to her front
yard as she opened the window. I pushed forward.
“Uh...a rose...a rose..,”I
declared with a an awful stutter, my hand raised in true overly
dramatic fashion.
Shit, what was the next
line?
“Why are you here?” she
half yelled through a whispered voice down at me.
That grand old nervous nausea came roaring
back, washing away any confidence I had some how mustered.
“Just...just wait. I'm trying to find...,”
I thumbed clumsily through the pages, not remembering which
bookmark had the line I was looking for. My fingers jammed and
became knotted lumps on my hands. My heart started to pound as I
felt the all to familiar thump thump beginning to rear its bastard
head.
“Go home, JJ,” Joanna said, not bothering
to whisper this time.
“No! Just wait!” I yelled back, slightly
louder than I had anticipated. I didn't mean to be so aggressive,
but she needed to goddamn wait! Flip. Flip.
Where the hell is
it?!
Aha!
“A rose. By another name
would smell sweat. I mean sweet!” I squinted hard at the worn pages
in only the faint streetlight to read by.
No, that's not right!
Thump. Thump.
“Let..let me try again,” I sucked in a deep
breath, willing my active heart to shut the hell up for just one
second. My fingertips tracing over the faded ink, but before I
could open my mouth again to speak, the window was closed and the
curtain drawn.
Thump thump.
I swam in my own shame and stupidity. Thump
thump thump. My throat started closing, sweat now raining off my
forehead, spilling dishonorably onto the blood red book in my
hands. I wanted to throw that fucking book as hard as I could right
into her window until she choked on the words I meant to say.
Thump. Thump.
I couldn't stay here any longer or sure
enough I'd pass out in the lush green grass of her front lawn. What
would the neighbors say if they woke up to a dazed and confused
lovesick teenager outside instead of the morning paper? I closed my
eyes tight, wishing the pounding in my head and heart would just
disappear like she did.
Why did I ever think this
would work?
I scolded myself.
Thump. Thump thump.
No! This
was
going to work. She
has to listen to me. I mentally forced my heart back into its
rotten cage, momentarily silencing it's heinous laughter. I reached
down and picked up a large half crumbled but very solid rock,
steadied my breath, eyes never leaving their perspective target,
and rocketed it at her window.
Thunk! The harsh meeting of glass and stone
echoed in the night. I no longer cared what the hell her neighbors
thought, I only cared about getting her to listen.
No timid face appeared at the window this
time, instead an angry glare seethed at me as she threw the window
up with unexpected force. She sure looked good angry.