Keeping the Tarnished (3 page)

Chapter Five

Jackson

The air was muggy, and the sweat stung Johnny’s eyes as it hastily invaded from his forehead. There was a light breeze on the air, but it smelled of exhaust and seemed almost suffocating at times. Johnny was walking down Interstate 10, headed away from the bus stop, as the bus had arrived in Lake Charles about forty-five minutes prior.

It was almost six in the evening, and Johnny was completely defeated, walking aimlessly. The sound of the rocks beneath his feet only assured him he was physically desperate, and the situation was only going to get worse.

How could he?
There had been the talk of treatment, and the small chat the remainder of the ride. Johnny knew Bo must have done it when Johnny fell asleep. When the boy had awoken, both Bo and the remaining cash that he had in his bag were completely gone, taken right out of the side pocket of his book bag, envelope and all. Now he had nothing—no plan, and no money.

His initial idea of finding a taxi to take him to the nearest recommended cheap hotel, or even a shelter, was now bashed. He was certain a good night’s sleep would improve the situation. Now that plan was stolen, along with his cash. Like an expanding wildfire in the dark of night, it was becoming increasingly clearer the dire state of his situation. The cars flying by him seemed to have little regard to his well-being or location. He was hungry, scared and had no idea where he was going to sleep once the sun went down.

Bo had mentioned a place called The Salvation Army, and Johnny hoped that perhaps they could help him. Bo had said they had helped him in the past, but Johnny had no idea if anything that thieving bastard said was true. Up the interstate on the left was a Shell station with signs boasting a casino inside. Johnny thought perhaps someone inside would know where the salvation place was. He paid little mind to the speeding traffic. In fact, he paid little attention to any of the surrounding scenery. He had never been this far from home. Although it was the same state, this area was quite different from where he grew up. He had too much on his mind to attempt appreciating the local sights or the speeding drivers.

As he walked into the store he noticed the stench of the bus and his own body odor was very evident on him. He needed a shower, a good meal, and a warm bed. There were many nights he had gone without any of them, so he wasn’t too concerned about the trivial things he was currently lacking. He was, however, concerned with his uncontrollable emotional state. He had continuously told himself that he was now legally a man.
Men don’t cry
.

The reality was that he was a scared eighteen-year-old boy without a plan or a dime to his name. His eyes were puffy, his face was soaked, and he felt about as pathetic as possible. As he stood in front of the counter attempting to speak to the clerk and enquire as to where the salvation place was, he noticed a tall, clean, and charismatic-looking man with dark brown hair approaching him and the clerk. As he approached, he glanced at the clerk and raised his hand with all his fingers extended as if to say
, I got this.

“Excuse me, bud. Are you okay?”

Trying his best to calm his quaking voice long enough to speak, Johnny was able to make out one clear word, “No.”

“Why don’t you and I go sit down in a booth over there for a minute, okay?” Jackson asked, as he put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, looking him in the eye. Johnny gave the man an affirming nod, and the two made their way to the row of booths by the entrance of the store.

Chapter Six

To Smile

Jackson

“We can figure it out in the morning. Tonight we’re going to get some fried chicken and homemade rolls in your belly. That always seems to do the trick for me,” Jackson said with a kind smile. He watched Johnny as the boy continuously glanced about the man’s car, seemingly observing each detail.

The teen appeared a bit concerned by all the heartworm medication boxes and brochures in the backseat of Jackson’s car. Jackson had mentioned he worked with animals, but hadn’t gone into much detail. Johnny hadn’t disclosed too much, either; only that his father had kicked him out, he didn’t know where his mother was, he was totally broke, and had no idea why, of all the destinations, he chose to come here, to Lake Charles.

Jackson was aware there was much more to the story, but he had also recognized the desperation that came pouring from the boy’s eyes.

After about twenty minutes of small talk at the store, Jackson extended an invitation for supper and a bed for the night. He was satisfied the boy was not in any trouble with the law. When he watched Johnny load up in his car, he briefly questioned what the hell he was thinking inviting a homeless teen to supper.

Jackson’s wife, Graye, was always laughing at her husband for bringing home stray dogs. She was hesitant when Jackson called her from his cell phone at the store, but she informed her husband that she trusted him more than any other soul on the planet. She readily agreed to offer a spare room, and some of her home cooking for a young man that was only four months older than her own son, Jared.

It wasn’t every day that Jackson brought home a homeless boy. In fact, he had never before brought home a homeless person. He volunteered at the shelters, and knew they had open beds, but there was something about Johnny. Jackson wouldn’t take him there—not tonight. He was going to the Everett house.

As the car drove past the bus station, Jackson noticed Johnny unzipping his book bag. The man’s peripheral vision remained fixed in an uneasy way on the teen as the boy reached into the bag.

“If you don’t care, maybe I can wash these clothes out in your tub when we get to your house. That way they’ll be dry when I leave tomorrow,” Johnny requested as he opened his bag further.

“We’ll take care of those in the wash machine when we get there, bud,” Jackson said with an uncomfortable smile. He gripped the wheel and took the curve.

As Johnny opened his bag further, sitting on top of the clothing sat a crumpled white envelope. The boy grabbed it and opened it up, exposing a small assortment of bills. On the front of the envelope was a scribbled note. Jackson watched the boy’s amusement and was surprised to hear the young man mutter the words that had been jotted down.

“You, my friend, are a good man. I hadn’t eaten in nearly two days. You need to keep this hidden better. Anyone could walk by and snatch it. Good things come to good people. Bo”

“Everything okay?”

“He wasn’t lying,” Johnny exclaimed, showcasing an uncontrollable smile. “I have a little bit of money for you. Sorry, I lost it when I was on the bus,” Johnny said as he thumbed through the cash.

“That won’t be necessary, sir. All I ask is that you clean your plate and always tell the wife her food is wonderful at least three times,” Jackson replied in a joking manner.

“Okay,” said Johnny, whose tone gave the impression that he believed the request to be genuine.

“When we get home, I’ll introduce you to the family. Jared will like having another guy besides me there for the night. I absolutely hate video games, and he thinks they’re the best thing ever,” Jackson said as he glanced over at Johnny. “Do you like video games?”

“I played a game once at my friend Bobby’s house, but I only went there once because I wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. So, nah, I’m not too good at ’em,” Johnny replied as he looked out the window.

“And why weren’t you supposed to be there?” Jackson asked curiously, glancing at Johnny as his eyes narrowed in intrigue.

“Well, because he was black,” Johnny replied rather nonchalantly as he continued gazing about.

This response surprised Jackson briefly. He knew this boy had an interesting story, but he imagined it to be painful as well. Either way, Jackson’s mind had been made since the store. He was certain this boy needed a great deal of help, and there was no reason for him to have to stay at a shelter the first night away from home. There were certain reservations, of course, but Jackson’s natural paternal instinct seemed to cloud his judgment from the practicality of the situation.

“I’ll let you take a hot shower and scrub the bus station off of you when we get there, then we’ll get you fed, and make sure you get a good night’s sleep,” Jackson said as he began to yawn.

“Thank you, sir. I’m sorry if I smell bad,” Johnny replied as he turned his eyes toward the floor.

Jackson started laughing as he looked at Johnny. “I didn’t mean that at all, Johnny. I’ve been working with horses all day, I probably smell bad.”

Johnny broke his gaze from the floor long enough to look briefly at Jackson and smile.

“What exactly is your job?” Johnny asked.

“I’m a concierge veterinarian. That just means I don’t work a regular nine-to-five schedule, and my wife teaches English at my son’s high school.”

“And your boy is my age? You don’t look old enough to have a boy my age.”

“I just turned thirty-eight. I’m sure the gray will set in soon enough.”

“I just wanna say thank you, sir. I really do appreciate this.”

Jackson noticed the teen boasting an appreciative smile. “Well, you just smile all you want there, bud. You’re going to be grinning from ear to ear when you taste my wife’s cooking.”

Some souls burn out once they have reached a certain level of adversity. Perhaps Johnny’s was close to this point, understandably, but Jackson saw something in him. He saw a recognizable characteristic that he could see in himself and his own son.

As they turned off the highway onto the dirt road, Jackson took notice of Johnny’s reaction to seeing the Everett’s home come into view. By the American standard, the house was very elegant and quite large; however, it was actually rather modest in regard to the annual income the couple brought in and the inheritance they were sitting on. The drive leading to the two-story, white house was lined with large, white rocks. The house had dark blue shutters, and a huge front porch, complete with a white, hanging, porch swing. To the side of the house was a detached four-car garage, white as well. On the left side of the house was a horse stable with a large pasture behind it. There was also a large, red barn behind the garage with pens.

Four large dogs barked out the warning of the approaching vehicle as they came charging down the drive. “Well, here comes Sampson, Stella, Sunny, and Toby.”

Johnny leaned forward, smiling largely as he watched them approach. The dogs appeared to be mix breeds, except one shepherd. There were two yellow lab mixes, and a large black dog too.

“Did you have a dog back home, Johnny?”

“Yea, well, kinda, but she drowned when she was still a pup.”

As the car came to a stop, Jackson put it in park and turned toward Johnny, who was now looking out the window, still smiling at the dogs.

“She…she drowned? How did she drown?”

Johnny turned and looked at Jackson with a solemn gaze. “In the pond,” he said hastily, returning his glance immediately to the house and the dogs outside the vehicle.

Before Jackson could respond, the front door of the house opened.

The light from the inside of the house lit up some of the plants that were hanging from the ceiling of the porch, which was covered and was as wide as the entire front of the house as it wrapped around the right side of the house and went back several feet.

The evening was completely still. Someone could have lit a long-stem candle in the middle of the yard and the flame would have remained pointing completely skyward. The air was thick and muggy, but the fireflies and singing birds seemed to add a certain enchantment to the property. Behind the red barn was an abundance of trees and thick brush. In fact, other than the yard, and the cleared pasture, all the surrounding acreage was woodland with huge beautiful trees draped in moss.

As Jackson’s son, Jared, came out of the open door of the house, Jackson noted that he and Johnny could almost pass for brothers. They were about the same height, around five foot eight inches, and both had dark hair. Jared was more filled out, he even had a small amount of baby fat on him. This was, no doubt, the product of adequate nutrition.

“Well, there’s the man of the hour, Mr. Jared Everett,” Jackson said as he smiled at his son, who jumped off the porch and was now jogging toward the car in gray sweatpants and white t-shirt. Jackson assumed Jared was the type of kid that fathers would want their daughters to bring home. He was genuinely kind to about everyone he came across, and was extremely respectable in most cases.

“What’s up, Pops?” the boy asked while smiling in an inviting manner. He leaned into his father’s window, bent over slightly with his hands resting on his knees. “You must be Johnny. So, it’s Jackson, Jared, and Johnny. That’s gonna be confusing as hell for Mom tonight,” Jared said, as he was obviously attempting to ease the situation with sarcasm.

“Hey, watch your mouth in front of our guest, dork,” Jackson snapped as he ruffled Jared’s hair with his hand.

“Yea, yea, Pops. Johnny, I hope you’re hungry, man. Mom made enough food to feed a horse, if horses ate fried chicken,” Jared said happily as he continued looking through the window.

“I am. I’m
dog-tired
too,” Johnny replied.

A little girl came charging toward the car. Jackson adored her precious smile and found her beautiful, even when boasting a mess of brown, ratted hair. “And here comes Miss Bryce, filthy as ever,” Jackson said, shaking his head.

Johnny broke his gaze from the small girl and turned to Jackson.

“Bryce? That’s a really pretty name. I like it,” he said, as the girl reached the car.

“Well, I like it too, sir. I like it too,” Jackson replied as he continued watching his daughter.

“Daddy!” the girl shrieked happily. “Daddy, I wanna see the new boy, I wanna see him.” Her little fingers appeared on the window seal of her father’s car door as she tried to pull herself up to see.

The new boy
. Jackson thought the title almost sounded permanent. He certainly didn’t want to give the teenager any misguided impression that the one-night offer would become anything more. “Hold on there, little bit,” Jackson said sternly, “that new boy has a name; Johnny,” Jackson said to the chipper little girl.

She let go of the door and raced around to the other side of the car to open Johnny’s door. She vigorously attempted to open the door, but she didn’t have the strength.

Johnny, smiling, opened the door from the inside.

She looked at his face briefly, and then wrapped her arms around his waist, seatbelt and all. “You’re very cute,” the little girl said with an innocent smile.

“Well, so are you, Bryce,” Johnny replied.

“You boys hungry?” asked a lovely voice from the doorway of the house. “You better be!” the voice continued.

Jackson looked up to see his beautiful wife in the doorway of the house. The sun was beginning to set and the string of yard lights on either side of the white porch stairs began to light up. The woman looked angelic while walking down the stairs of the porch. She was slender, had dark brown hair, and a gorgeous, welcoming smile. She was wearing an oversized, white t-shirt and red basketball shorts, and she was barefoot as she walked across the plush, green grass toward the car.

Jackson could sense Johnny appeared understandably overwhelmed. The boy smiled and seemed to be making a valiant effort to connect with each member of the family, yet he appeared tense and uneasy. The tension seemed to almost lift from the boy’s shoulders as Graye approached him.

“You must be Mr. Johnny,” the woman said, looking down at the sitting boy.

“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said, smiling back at her.

“Well, it is certainly a pleasure to meet you.” The woman was still smiling as she extended her hand to shake his.

As Jackson watched the interaction, he couldn’t help but wonder of Johnny’s mother; what she was like, and how she could have simply lost touch with her son. Jackson was typically always aware of Jared’s whereabouts and couldn’t imagine the boy being halfway across the state without his knowledge.

The interaction between his wife and Johnny felt easy and unforced. This began to settle Jackson’s nerves too. He was thankful that Graye was receptive to the idea of assisting the young man. He imagined his own boy, lost, broke, and crying at gas station far from home. The thought broke his heart.

“Come on, sweetheart, supper’s waiting inside,” Graye said sweetly with a comforting tone.