Jackie's Redemption, chapter one

JACKIE'S REDEMPTION

By

Melissa Murphy



Jackie stood between her mother and her brother, Sam.  Tears swam in both of their eyes.  Her mother's fell intermittently throughout the long sermon.  Sam's did not.  His clenched jaw and stiff posture spoke of his staunchly held control.  He, no doubt, heard the words of their late father running through his head, just as Jackie did now at the sight of her brother's unshed tears. 

Men don't cry.  You had best learn that now, boy.  Stop being such a sissy before I put one of your sister's dresses on you.

The day the words were uttered would be forever etched in Jackie's brain.  It was the last day of school her senior year.  She and Sam climbed down off of the bus that afternoon, to find Hobo, the puppy their father had brought home a week before in one of his guilt filled phases, lying dead in the road.  Sam took it hard, crying next to the shallow grave they'd dug for Hobo for the remainder of the evening.  Yet, here he stood at his father's grave and not a tear did he let fall.

The preacher droned on and on about heaven, sin and redemption.  Sweat trickled down Jackie's spine and into her panties.  And Jackie prayed, prayed not for her late father's soul, but for the end to this day. 

She stared down at the closed casket. 

"Not enough left of him to make presentable for a viewing", her mother repeated the funeral director's words, when Jackie asked the day before.  "The car caught fire after the crash," her mother added.  Not that Jackie cared to see her father, especially dead.  Viewing dead bodies at funerals, she always thought to be morbid.  But, she really did not care to see his body.  She chalked it up to morbid curiosity, the reason she asked about the closed casket, or lack of something better to say in an awkward moment.  She never knew what to say in uncomfortable situations, something she attributed to her father's influence. 

Jackie glanced around the small group.  Her mother's best friend, Wendy Carmichael, stood on her mother's other side, rubbing a comforting hand up and down her friend's arm.  Old Mrs. Watson from down the street was there, leaning heavily on her cane.  The preacher was, of course, still praying in vain for Steven Lee Stringer's soul, at the head of the casket.  And there was one other.  A man stood back from the group.  Despite the dark, cloudy sky, he wore, what must have been nearly impossible to see through, black sunglasses.  It struck her as odd.  His clothing, a little rich for this town, stood out as well.  He appeared to be looking down at the casket, his head bent.  He lifted it, nodded in her direction and then turned and walked away until his tall, lanky frame disappeared over the rise.

#

"Jacqueline!"  Sarah Stringer used her motherly scolding tone that could set any disrespectful child back a pace.  Jackie immediately regretted her last remarks.

"Sorry Mamma."  She sighed.  Her words were not meant to hurt.  She just couldn't sit still and quiet any longer listening to the sugar coated hogwash her mother told of the memories of her late husband.  Besides, who was she trying to fool?  Herself?  Everyone in town knew of her father's volatile personality, especially Wendy.

"Dinner was not torture and your father was not a tyrant."  Her mother sniffled.  "How can you say such things...today?"  Wendy frowned over Sarah's head, snuffed out her cigarette in the pilfered Holiday Inn ash tray and wrapped her arms around her friend.

"Sorry, Mamma."  What else could she say?  As always, it would be best if she bit her tongue until she was out of the house.  Her father was gone and still she must grit her teeth and hold her tongue.  Her nerves were on edge.  Like a thousand tiny insects squirming just under the surface of her skin and clawing at the inside of her stomach.  She needed to get out of this house and away from the cloud of smoke that hung thick in the humid air.  "I think I should go and check on Sam."

Her mother dabbed her eyes with a tissue.  "Yes, dear.  Thank you.  I'm sure he needs to talk to someone and I'm not certain I am up to listening today."

Jackie nodded and made her escape.  Why was it that coming home, even after all of these years, instantly turned her from the confident, self-reliant woman she was in the city, at her job, into the angry teenager she had been long ago when she first left home?

She paused in the hall, her eyes drawn to the many photos of her and her brother covering the walls, some candid shots and some imaginatively posed, a tribute to her mother's talent as well as a constant reminder of her lost dreams.  Her mother often talked about her unrealized dreams when her father was gone with his work as a salesman.  Jackie moved down the hall until she came to a collection of her own photos, mostly scenery.  She reached out and ran a finger across one she'd taken of her father and brother.  They smiled back.  For the life of her, she could not remember the day or occasion.  Her father looked happy.  Had he ever really been? 

Reliving the day her mother gave her the first camera, her ninth birthday, Jackie moved to the back screen door and stared out at the darkening sky.  Her mother spent several afternoons, afterward, patiently showing her how to use the camera and always found the money, even when things were tight, to get Jackie's decidedly amateurish pictures developed.     

Had she ever thanked her mother for that?

With guilt rising up to burn as tears in her eyes, Jackie headed out the back.  The screen door slammed behind her and she jumped.  How many times had she and Sam hidden in the woods behind the house when Dad came home drunk and in the mood to berate someone and break things?  They dreaded the slam of the screen door back then.  It meant Mamma had not been able to divert him from looking for them.

"Samson?"  He was here, somewhere.  He had his license now, but no car yet.  She stopped at the barn door, hanging by one hinge and peered inside.  Carpenter bees hovered just above her head sounding the warning that she was not to enter their domain.  Samson was not inside.  Where else could he have to gone?  She moved around the side of the barn, towards the back side of the property.

Of course, it had been so long since her last visit, she really did not know Sam's habits these days.  He'd grown up in the last three years. He had to be close to six foot, towering a good eight inches over her now.  His hair had darkened to almost black.  She stopped, closed her eyes for a second and shook her head.  Sam looked more like their father every time she saw him.  And his voice, so deep now, even sounded like their father. 

Three days ago, when she first entered the house, the voices coming from the kitchen had stopped her in her tracks.  She knew her father was dead before making the trip.  And yet, his angry voice seemed to be coming from the kitchen.  As always, he was arguing with Mamma.  For a moment she considered turning and running from the house.  For a second, she actually thought her mother may have been wrong and her father was still alive.  They'd had trouble identifying the remains hadn't they?  It was not her father, but her brother, upset that the funeral was going to be on the same day he was supposed to leave for a football camp.  He didn't see why he should have to 'pay his respects to a man who never in his whole life spoke a kind word to him.'

Her mother's phone call five days before, she would never forget.  Not the actual conversation, but the feelings that flowed through her as her mother's voice faded into the distance.  Shouldn't a daughter be crying, upset or at least sad when her father died?  Her mother's words that day only brought on feelings of closure and even relief.  Nothing more.  No, that wasn't entirely true.  There was guilt.  Guilt actually being the most dominant of emotions then and still, now. 

"Samson," she called, sliding a bit as she made her way down the steep hillside towards the creek.  She reached out and grabbed one sapling after another as she made her descent.

He sat on the bank, shoes off, his 'good' pants soaked to the knees, picking leeches from between his toes.

"Mamma's going to kill you when she sees your muddy, wet pants, Sam."  He didn't look up from his task.

She dropped down next to him with little thought to her dress that would surely be just as muddy when she stood again.  She leaned forward to see his eyes, half hidden behind the long locks of hair he refused to cut for the funeral.  Tears glittered in their angry depths.

"Why did he have to die...now?"  His trembling hands paused above his bare feet.

Her breath caught in her throat.  Was Samson really mourning the loss of their father?  But then, maybe things had changed in the last three years, as hard as that would be to believe.  How could she possibly have any idea?  She seldom talked to Sam these days.  Her mother called every weekend, but always made everything sound wonderful, as if Jackie were an outsider now and not privy to what really went on inside the Stringer house. 

She struggled for a moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm sorry, Samson."

His dark eyes met hers.  He snorted.

"I am too.  I was almost big enough.  Another year or two and I would have been able to take him on.  Mamma wouldn't have had to step between us when he came home drunk, looking for a fight."

Again guilt ate at her insides, biting into her empty stomach.  She had escaped, but not taken her little brother with her all those years ago.  She'd left him behind to face the chaos alone each time their father decided to make an appearance at home.  But, what could she have done?  At barely eighteen and nothing to live on but the minimum wage pay from her part time job while in college, she went to bed in the dorm, many a night, hungry.  How could she have taken care of Samson as well?  Even now, she struggled with rent, student loans and necessities on her meager pay.

"I'm sorry, Samson, that you had to face him alone after I left.  At least, when I was here, we had each other."

The hard lines of his much too young face relaxed a bit.  "We still do, Jacs."

Tears then blurred her vision.  She wrapped her arm around his narrow shoulders.  "It is over, now."  She fought to control her wavering voice.  She hated to cry.  Crying showed weakness.  She hated weakness in herself and hated even more for others to see it.  But then, this was Samson.  They'd cried together many times.  "He will torment you no more."

His gaze shifted past her.  "Only in my head now, Jacs."  He sighed.  "Only in my head."

Her heart broke.  A little piece of it shattered, again.

#

"Mamma, I won't be out late.  I promise.  I'm not feeling all that well tonight and have an early flight tomorrow.  I have to be back at the office first thing Monday, but I promised Kel and Susan I'd go."

Her mother cocked her head to one side, peering at her face.  "Your sinuses again?  You are taking you allergy medicine, aren't you?" 

Jackie squashed the urge to roll her eyes and nodded.  She forgot to pack her meds, but knew better than to tell Mamma. 

Her mother patted her arm.  "I know, dear.  You are an adult now, and your work is important to you.  And you haven't seen your friends here in a very long time."  Her eyes grew misty all over again.  "I was just hoping to sit and talk with you for a bit.  With the funeral arrangements to make and everything, we haven't had time to talk.  I don't get to see you much anymore and... well, we just never talk anymore.  I don't know your friends where you live now or what you do with yourself when you are not working.  Are you seeing anyone?"

Jackie forced herself to unclench her teeth and answer in a normal tone.  Why did her mother have to ask, every single time she talked to her, if she was seeing anyone?  Was a woman's life not worth anything unless she had a man in it?  Was she only floundering until a man stepped in and took control?

"I won't be late," she repeated, choosing to ignore the last question.  "We will talk when I get back.  I promise."

A minute later, Jackie slid into the seat of her rented compact and again forced herself to unclench her teeth.  She would soon have an even worse headache than she already did, if she didn't loosen up.  She rolled her shoulders forward and back and stuck the key in the ignition.  She only hoped her mother wouldn't wait up.

She frowned, backing away from the house.  Coming home was always bittersweet.  Familiarity, at first, felt good, but soon became overshadowed by a barrage of depressing memories and negative emotions.  This trip would be no different.

One more night and then she could return to her life, one that did not often include this place or these people.  It was both uplifting and disheartening.

Once racing down the windy back road away from the house, she breathed a little sigh and felt a bit of the tension draining from her shoulders.  She smiled at the remembered feeling of freedom she'd experienced the first time she left home almost seven years ago, the pamphlet directing her to her dream clutched tightly in her hand. Jackie stared unseeing towards the familiar road.  The pamphlet, from the University of Cincinnati, her mother had given her at the beginning of her senior year of high school.  UC was where her parents first met, her mother reminded her that night.

"You have such wonderful raw talent, Jackie," she said sitting down next to Jackie on the bed.  "With the right training, you could be great.  You could do what I never did, finish college, have a successful career, and be someone.  UC has a great photography program.  Go, get your Bachelors and if possible, your Masters.  Make something of your life."

Jackie came to the four-way stop at the end of the road and turned right towards town, still remembering the past and contemplating the future.  She had finished the hard part.  Her schooling done, now all she needed still was to prove herself to her new employer while avoiding his obnoxious nephew's roving hands.  Then, her dreams and her mother's dreams for her, could be realized.  Once financially secure, she would truly need no one.

The lights on the outskirts of town glowed on the horizon, her beacon.

Kelly and Susan were probably already waiting at Sully's.  The corners of her lips turned up at the thought, but the smile quickly slipped away as she remembered the first time they met there, seven years ago.  In Willow Creek, the local tavern doubled as a restaurant and also sold bait in the summer months.  The bar in the rear of the building, served anyone with money enough to pay, or so went the rumor around school back then.  She and her friends had finally got up the nerve to slip into the backroom one night.  In retrospect, huddled together in the corner, they must have made a humorous sight for the regulars.

Old Badger, the bartender back then, made them sit and wait for what seemed like an eternity, before sauntering over.  With raised brows, he looked them, each one in turn, up and down.

"What can I do for you, girls?  Need change for the game machines?"  His cold blue eyes told the truth.  He knew full well what they were up to. 

Jackie found her nerve, swallowed hard and spoke up.

"No."  She raised her chin and met his hard eyes.  "A drink.  Whatever you have on tap."  She had heard her father speak those words often enough through the open doorway.  She imagined saying them then made her sound and look older.

Badger leaned back against the bar, studying her, frowning. 

"A beer?  Hmmm.  Starting a little early aren't you, ladies?"  He addressed them all, but his gaze never left her face as he pushed off from the bar and leaned closer.  His eyes and grizzled face softened.  "You have so much going for you, girl, despite your old man.  Don't make his same mistake and take to the bottle.  You're beautiful and seem bright enough.  You can still leave this dump of a town," he gestured towards the door, "and make something of yourself."  Her mother's words echoed by old Badger hit home for her that night.

It was the best advice she'd ever got.

Rumbling in the distance grabbed Jackie's attention as she stepped from her car. That and the stifling heat and humidity in contrast to the air conditioned compact.  She glanced up at the dark sky.  Not a single star shown through the clouds.  She just managed to make it to Sully's windowless door before big drops of rain began pelting the dusty graveled parking lot.

This time of night, the restaurant part of the building lay empty, lit by only a few recessed bulbs.  The smell of old grease and fish hung heavy in the air.  Neon lights and laughter spilling through the open doorway of the next room marked the familiar path to the bar. 

"Jackie!" Kelly called out the moment Jackie stepped into the smoky room.  Kelly stood and waved her over to their corner table.  She and Susan both rushed forward to wrap Jackie in a group hug.  Well, Kelly rushed.  Susan waddled.  "It has been so long!  How are you, Jacs?" Kelly asked, leaning back to get a better look.  "You look awesome."

Jackie grinned, instantly relaxing in the glow of friendship.  It was as if she had never left.  She glanced to Susan's smiling face and then down to her rounded middle.  Well, there were some differences.

"Thanks.  You both look great too.  And, Susan, you are expecting again.  How many is that now?  Three?  Four?  When are you due?"

Susan blushed and lowered her eyes.  "Three.  Another boy.  He's due in September."

"Jason is quite prolific," Kelly interjected, causing poor Susan's red face to darken further.  "I keep reminding her there are ways to prevent that.  I mean, three in four years, I don't know how she is going to manage.  My one little fellow keeps me on the run, constantly."  Kelly gestured towards the chairs.

"I have Mamma," Susan said as she lowered her expanded frame back into her chair.  "She helps keep an eye on the boys for me some."

"Enough about us and our boring, small town lives," Kelly said turning to Jackie.  "Tell us what's up with you, these days.  I ran into your mother a couple of weeks ago in Walmart.  She went on and on about you landing a new job in some big advertising firm.  She was so proud."  She leaned forward.  "How exciting!  You must just be beside yourself, floating on cloud nine."

Jackie couldn't help but grin.  She finally landed her dream job, or what could be her dream job.  The coordinator made it very obvious in her interview that they promoted from within the company whenever possible.

"I am just a lowly assistant for now," Jackie told them.  "But I hope to move up soon."

"And what about your love life?  Any dark strangers caught your eye or you, theirs?"

Jackie inwardly cringed.  It appeared the mentality of small town women was all the same.  School, marriage, babies and not always in that order.

"No, I'm much too busy to notice, really.  I work ten to twelve hours a day, now.  I don't have much time for socializing."

A short, stout figure lumbered over to their table.  "Jackie Stringer.  I thought that was you."  Teeth, yellowed with tobacco stains, flashed her way.

"Badger?"  Jackie couldn't help but smile back at the bright blue eyes.  "You still work here?"

His grin broadened.  "Until I am too feeble to make the short walk from the trailer out back to the bar."  He glanced down over her white button down blouse and khaki Capri's.  "You clean up nice, girl.  Heard you live in the big city now.  Making something of yourself.  I always knew you had it in ya."

"Thanks, Badger.  Your words did not fall on deaf ears all of those years ago."

He nodded, sobering.  "I was sorry to hear about your dad."  He shifted from one foot to the other.  "What can I get you?"

"Thanks, Badger.  Just a Coke, if you don't mind."

"What?  No alcohol?" Kelly jumped in.  She jerked her thumb towards Susan.  "She can't drink, so is the designated driver.  So, if you want to have a little fun, Jacs, we could give you a ride home later."

"No.  I don't drink."  Jackie turned back to Badger.  "Just a Coke, please." 

He smiled again before turning to the other two.  "Refills, ladies?"

Kelly handed him her glass.  "Well, if I must drink alone, so be it.  I'll take another, Badger."

"I'm fine," Susan told him.  After he moved away, she turned back to Jackie.  "I'm sorry about your dad too, Jackie.  I would have come to the funeral, but I had a doctor's appointment, for the baby.  We haven't got but the one car and Jason has to use it to get back and forth to work.  So, I have to find a ride, as it is, to my appointments."

"Don't worry about it, Susan.  I wouldn't have gone myself if not for Mamma."

Susan bit her lower lip and lowered her eyes. Susan, Jackie's oldest friend, knew.  Even Kelly had witnessed to a few of her father's tirades, but Susan understood.  Her own father liked the bottle just as much.

"How is your Mom, Jackie?  Is she holding up ok?" Kelly asked, always one to change the subject when things got uncomfortable.

"She's as well as she can be, I guess."

"And Samson?"

Jackie paused.  Sam worried her the most.  His anger bothered her more than her mother being in denial.

Rubbing her left temple, she shrugged.  "He will be all right, I think, with time."  Her mild headache was quickly becoming a monster and her ear now ached as well.

Eventually, the discussion turned back to pregnancy and babies.  There it stayed for the remainder of the evening.  Jackie smiled and made appropriate comments when necessary.  But, her mind continued to stray.  She liked children, just didn't plan on having any.  Having children required a man.  Well, these days there were sperm banks, but really, how could you be sure what you were getting from one of those places.  Besides, she worked all the time.  She barely had time for her cat, let alone a child.

And really, what did she know about raising kids?  You learn from example, don't you?  What kind of parent would she be with her mother and father as role models?

An hour later, Jackie, finding it hard to even keep her smile in place, picked up her purse from the floor.  Her head and ear now both throbbed with equal severity and in unison.  She dug around for something, anything that might give her some relief.  Surely, she had a couple of aspirin in there somewhere. 

"Are you all right?  You don't look so good," Susan asked, concern creasing her soft brows.

"It's just a headache and earache.  I forgot my allergy meds when I was packing."  Jackie continued to dig through her cluttered bag, frustration setting in.

"Maybe Badger has something behind the bar," Susan suggested.

"Here."  Kelly reached for her own purse.  She pulled out a little, brown prescription bottle.  "Take one of these and you'll be ready to dance a gig in no time."

Jackie frowned.  "No thanks, Kelly.  Maybe I should just head home.  I have an early flight tomorrow."

"Aw... You can't leave yet.  You just got here.  And who knows how long it will be before we see you again."  Kelly took hold of Jackie's hand and dropped a tiny pill into her palm.  "It is just a pain killer.  It's harmless.  Take it and stay."

Susan eyed the pill, but smiled when she glanced up.  "Do stay, Jackie."

What harm could it do?  One pill.  She rolled it between her thumb and finger a time or two and popped it in her mouth, purposely not giving herself a chance to think on the possible consequences. Tonight, above all others, she needed to escape.

It wasn't long before she began to get relief.  The pain subsided, but in its absence, another peculiar sensation moved in.  Euphoria.  The talk of babies, she'd felt uncomfortable with only minutes before, now made her feel all warm and tender inside.  Even Kelly's stories of her little Ben's potty training fiascos were inexplicably funny and endearing.  Did toddlers really find it entertaining to finger paint the walls with their own feces?  She couldn't imagine, but also couldn't stop giggling at the picture that popped in her head of Kelly, all rubber gloved up, scrubbing it clean.

An hour later she hugged her old friends, holding back tears.  What had started as a horrible day and a disappointing night somehow turned out all right.

"And I am so sorry for the spilt drink," Kelly giggled as she pulled back.  "Hopefully you don't get pulled over on the way home.  You smell like a gin and tonic." 

Jackie shook her head.  "I am glad Susan is driving you home, Kel.  I think you've had one too many."  She grinned.  "Or two too many."

Kelly giggled again and threw her arm around Susan.  "Don't wait so long to come and see us again."

Jackie waved to Badger and made her way to the doorway.  Just as she stepped through, into the empty restaurant, the dim room shifted.  She grabbed for an abandoned chair and closed her eyes, only just catching its back before she lost her balance and toppled forward.  Even with her eyes closed, she could still feel the movement.  What just happened?  The odd euphoric feeling of the evening disappeared leaving behind only confusion and wariness.  She opened her eyes and looked around.  Nothing.  Everything was as it should be.  Frowning, she moved towards the front door holding onto the wall for support as she went.

The pounding rain, she heard before she even pushed against the door. 

"Great," she muttered picking out her car on the far end of the parking lot. She glanced up to the black sky.  "I had a shower before I left the house, thank you."  No one answered and the rain only grew heavier as she stood contemplating her options.  With a sigh, she tucked her purse up under her one arm, clutched her keys with the opposite hand and darted out.

By the time she got to the rental and the door unlocked, her soaked clothing clung to her skin.  Pushing her dripping hair out of her face, she inserted the key in the ignition and glanced at the time when it lit up.  One o'clock.  Hopefully her mother would be asleep when she got home.  A conversation—or lecture—about life from her mother, she just didn't think she could take tonight.  Not tonight.  And not from her mother.

Again, without warning, everything moved.  Or had she moved, or the car moved?  She gripped the steering wheel with her other hand and took a deep breath.

She dropped her shoulders back against the seat.  What could be causing her odd feeling of moving when she wasn't, or didn't think she was?  Allergies?  Ear infection?  Her frown deepened.  Kelly's pill?

Best to head home and find her bed.

She pulled through the parking lot, made the turn onto the road and headed north.  Twice more during the next couple of minutes her vision blurred and the images before her danced and shifted.  She gripped the steering wheel tighter and fought to maintain control.  She blinked over and over, trying to clear her fuzzy feeling head.  Just a little farther.