Jake and Darcy, Part Five

I’m awakened from my reverie as I make a left off of Taunton Boulevard into Jen’s development. There are dozens of these little developments littering the area, hidden amongst the pines of Medford Township. The area is fairly rural, and is a nice contrast to Cherry Hill and areas further west as you take Route 70 to Philadelphia.

I’m just pulling into Jen’s driveway when the front door opens and Jen emerges with a backpack in her hands. I turn down the radio and go to shut the car off but she waves me off, like she always does when I pick her up.

She’s never said anything to me about it, but I suspect she does this to avoid contact between me and her parents. I did meet them once, and they were polite, if cool. Her father was nice enough to me, making small talk about the Phillies and my job at Flannigans, as he recognized me from his stops there to get gas. The thing about him is his eyes. They are very dark and bright, and never seem to be connected to his features. Even though he smiles, it’s hard to tell what he really thinks.

Jen’s mother was definitely not impressed, nor happy, with my sudden entrance into Jen’s life. We had been out a couple of times, and nothing else had really happened. Of course, her mother assumed that I was out for only one thing.

Not that I wasn’t, but I don’t think her mother understood how disassociated I had become from the town at large, and how much I appreciated having someone to talk to. I also think that Jen’s mom caught me checking her out.

It’s not what you think.

I went to school with this guy, Jim Hasel. He was that guy that was shaving in fourth grade. Of course by high school, he was considered the authority on girls and dating. One thing that he said always stuck with me, and it was this nugget of wisdom: “Always check out a girl’s mom before you get serious with her, because that’s what you are buying down the road.”

So I guess I never understood why he was dating a girl whose mom was pushing 250. Not that it wasn’t good advice, so I checked out Jen’s mom when I met her.

She is an attractive woman in her early 40’s. Dark hair and blue eyes, and still in shape. She has a nice body, thin, but not that thin that makes women looked washed out after a certain age, like their skin is straining to contain what’s inside. If this is what Jen was destined to become, there were worse fates that I could contemplate.

Jen comes around the front of the Chevelle and gives me a wave and a half smile. Jen has dark hair, like her mother, but eyes that run the gamut from a soft warm brown to pools of black depending on the light. Only recently had I come to really appreciate what an incredible body she had, as she often dressed in clothes that were one size too big for her.

The few times we had gone out, she dressed slightly differently, jeans that fit her, t-shirts that were just a little low cut, or sundresses when it was hot. I’ve always been partial to sundresses, there’s just something about them that has always caught my eye.

Even though she doesn’t know it, Jen’s wearing my favorite sundress, a yellow one with a muted floral print. Her hair is down, and in the light of a late summer day, she looks stunning.

My windows are down, and Jen puts her hand on the passenger side door and bends down. She has that half smile that kills me, and she tilts her head just slightly.

“Hey, Jake.”

I know she’s daring me to take my eyes off of hers and look down her dress. I know it, and can’t stop myself. I can just make out the top of a lacy white bra.

“Hello, Jake.”

I spin my head around and whack my head into the top of the car door.

Mr. Serrano is standing by the driver’s side door. I move to get out of the car.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Jake, I just wanted to say ‘hey.’” He extends his hand.

“Hi, Mr. Serrano, how are you?”

“I’m good, Jake, and yourself?”

“Good, sir.” His eyes aren’t smiling, though the rest of him is. Great, now he’s seen me check out his wife and his daughter. Hopefully his mother’s coming into town soon so I can complete the trifecta. I feel like such an asshole.

“Ok, dad, the movie’s at 9, so we have to go.”

Jen got in the car while I was talking with her dad. And while he was figuring out ways to make my body disappear. She has that sweet innocent smile on her face. You know the smile, all girls have it. That completely guileless smile they pull out to show you that there is nothing but virtue in their heads and hearts, when the opposite is probably closer to the truth.

“Ok, guys, have a good time. Curfew’s midnight, Jake, don’t let her fool you.”

“No problem, sir, I’ll have her home by quarter of.”

“Good man, talk to you later, Jake. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too, dad”

With that, I pull out of the driveway and drive down the street. Jen’s looking in the side mirror, back in the direction of her house. We come around a curve and I stop at the end of her street, and get ready to make a right on Taunton.

Jen reaches over and guides my face into hers. She kisses me. We’ve kissed before, but this is different. After a few seconds, she pulls away.

“So what did you think?”

“Of what?”

She throws her head back and lets out a deep laugh.

“Of my bra. I totally caught you looking down my dress.”

One of the things she has inherited from her dad is the ability to separate her eyes from her expression. She’s smiling, but there’s something different in her eyes. I decide to change the subject.

“Did you order the tickets?”

“About that, yeah, we’re not going to the movies.”

“Ok, where we going then?”

“Take a left.”

I switch my blinker, check traffic, and make a left on Taunton.

“Ok, where to next?”

She leans over and whispers in my ear.

“Carranza.”

Jake and Darcy, Part Four

I hang up with Jen and head to her place.

Jen and I have been out a few times. She’s a pretty decent girl. I went to school with her at Shawnee. She was one of those girls that I would pass by in the halls and think ‘man, that’s a cute girl’ and promptly resolve to meet her. And then forget about it ten seconds later.

I was at a graduation party the first time I actually got a chance to follow through on my desire to meet her.

I want to stand up I want to let go you know you know know you don’t you don’t I want to shine on in the hearts of men I want to meet you from the back of my broken hand another hate, another heartbreak, I’m so much older than I can take, and my affection, well it comes and goes, I need direction to perfection no no no no help me out, you know you gotta help me out…

…matches my thoughts as I’m walking through the backyard of my friend’s graduation party.

I see her, standing by the patio looking a little lost.

I guess I stare a little too long. She sees me. Smiles.

She’s coming over. Fuck. I’m really not prepared for this. Then again, who ever is.

“Hi, I saw you all the time at school, but we've never been introduced.”

“Jake.”

“I’m Jen.”

“Hey.”

“You graduating this year as well?”

“Yeah.”

“So where are you going to school next?”

“I’m not, I think I’m going to hang out and work for a bit. Try to figure things out.”

“Oh, like what?”

“Just things in general.”

She looks right at me. You know, in that way that lets you know she’s going to say something and you better be paying attention.

“I know who you are and who your brother is, and I just want you to know none of that matters to me.”

“It does to me.”

“It shouldn’t. I know Jessica, and she’s never said a bad thing about you. I guess I thought we should hang out sometime.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you want to. I can tell. What’s your cell?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Sorry. You have e-mail?”

“Yeah.”

And then she stands there looking at me expectantly.

“Wow, you really are the Silent Man. Is there any way I could make this any easier?” she says with a smirk.

Maybe it was the smirk, maybe it was the attitude, but either way it made me laugh. The sound startled me. It had been a very long time.

“jake3454@comcast.net.”

“Ok, I’ll e-mail you my number. Give me a call. A landline, a payphone, whatever.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Ok, I got to go, my friend’s waiting to go.”

She turns to walk away, but turns back “oh, congratulations.”

“On what?”

“Graduating. I’ll be a Senior next year. Maybe you can return the favor then.”

And off she walks.

I can't remember who said it, but the phrase 'always leave the audience wanting more' springs to mind.

In one conversation I have gone from mildly curious to completely intrigued by Jen.

Jake and Darcy, Part Three

I pull up my chair to the table, across from my mom.

“Your father called today.” She absentmindedly blurts out.

“How is he? Is he ok?”

“I’ll tell you son, I love him to pieces, but he was always an odd one. Only he could go off to war and find peace.”

We both laugh.

My father, in some respects, is a very straightforward guy. He works hard, has a sense of duty, family and honor. He’s a likable guy. A bit on the quiet side, so that’s probably where I come by it myself.

After Chaz died, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with my parents. I always thought that they seemed to get along pretty well, but having done a little research on the subject, I knew that most couples don’t survive the death of a child.

Sure, there was the occasional fight, one parent too soft, the other too hard. In the end, they both felt responsible, when the truth of the matter is neither one could really have done anything differently. As you get a little older you’re able to see your parents as people. Seeing them in this light often leads to a feeling of initial letdown, however, if you're lucky, it's followed by a comfort that their motivations are probably very similar to your own.

I guess there is often the desire to find someone to blame for the tragedies in life, whether it be God, the Devil, neighbors, or even ourselves. I just don't find this to be a very constructive use of my time.

We talk a bit about our day and I help wash and dry the dishes.

I head upstairs to my room and flip on my computer. Lying next to my mouse is my cell phone. I haven’t used it in 10 months. I still pay the bill, though. I always silently acknowledge it. It’s my last connection to my brother. On the night he died, he left me a message. I remember going to voicemail to listen to it. I stop. I just couldn’t bear to hear it that day. After that it was just one of those things. My girlfriend at the time, Jessica, knew about it.

Jessica told me that she would call the phone company to make sure that the message wasn't erased. I think it made her feel good to be able to something to make me feel a little better. After a little wrangling, they were able to save the message permanently. So long as I paid my bills, the message was there waiting for me. I didn’t know when I would be ready to hear it, but the fact that it was there gave me some comfort.

Why not get another cell phone? I don’t know, it just felt wrong. And it’s kind of nice not to be available 24/7.

I check my e-mail and there is a message from Jen, a girl I had been out with a couple of times asking me to call her.

It's 7:30 on a Tuesday night, so I pick up the phone in the kitchen and call her.

__________________

Jake and Darcy, Part 2

I pull my car out onto Union and head towards Main.

The windows are down, the radio is playing, and I feel pretty good. I love the way the heat seems to get lazy around 5 in the summer. You know the worst of it is over, but it tries to soldier on through the night.

As I pass Stokes road I give it a little gas. I like the drive out to Dixon’s. There are some great roads in this area of Jersey to just drive, and be left alone with your thoughts and a soundtrack.

I pull into Dixon’s, and turn the car off.

I push open the door and the bells against it sing their song.

“Hey Jake, how are you today?”

“Good, Mr. Starks.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I need a baseball.”

“Oh, check aisle two, I think there’s a couple there.”

“Ok.”

I like Mr. Starks. He doesn’t hold my brother against me, and that’s a rarity.

“You know, Jake, if I can do anything for your folks, let me know.”

“I will, Mr. Starks.”

“And goddamnit, Jake, call me Rich. You’re an adult now.”

“Okay, sir.”

He smiles as he hands me back the change. The bells on the door 'clang' behind me as I step into the sun.

As I turn the key, my ’69 Chevelle roars to life. I love this car. I remember when my brother first brought it home. Holy shit, what a piece of crap it was. I remember spending weekends out in the yard, just me and Chaz, pulling it apart and putting it back together. I guess that’s where I first fell in love with cars.

I pull back out on to Vincentown Road and head home, Jet’s “Get What You Need” pumping from the speakers.

I walk into the house and am greeted with the smell of fried chicken.

“That you, honey?”

“Yeah, Ma, I’ll wash up and be down in a minute.”

Jake & Darcy, Part One

“Hey, a little help?”

I’m standing outside Flannigan’s Service Station in Tabernacle. I’m taking a quick break when I see a baseball go rolling across the parking lot, coming to rest under a Dodge that currently is missing a transmission.

“Hey, you!”

I look across the street. The high pitched voice matches the person. It’s a girl. About 13, by the looks of it.

I take a drag on my cigarette and ignore her.

“I know you can hear me!”

I turn to look at her.

“Pleeeeeeeaaaaaseee, pretty pleeeeaaassseeee, mister?”

I consider the annoying request and amble over to the Dodge. I grab the ball.

“Thanks, can you throw it back to me?” She pounds her mitt and takes a stance. “Oh, can you throw it that far?”

It’s about 20 yards. I was decent in high-school ball. I can throw it at least many times that distance.

I wind up and promptly lose my grip on the ball. I guess the oil on my hands doesn’t help. I pick up the ball and throw it effortlessly over her head into the back yard of the little ranch house that sits on the corner of Hartford and Union road.

I toss the cigarette and see the girl running into the backyard.

I enter the garage and head over to the car I’m working on, a mini van with a couple of ruined rotors. I double check the lift, and walk to the front right tire, furthest from the office. I’ve just about got the tire off when I hear a voice, shrill and high, cut through the din of the radio say “Can I see the manager please?”

Oh Christ. I don’t need this shit today. I continue pulling off the tire and my boss, Mr. McGennis comes into the garage area. He looks around for a couple of seconds, and spots me.

“Jake, a minute, if you don’t mind, son.”

I put down the tire, grab my rag and wipe my hands off. I head over towards the office.

“There’s someone here to see you.” His eyebrows are scurrying across his head in ways I didn’t think possible.

I head into the main office and there she is, the girl from across the street.

“The young lady says you ruined her ball. What do you have to say?” Mr. McGennis tosses me the ball I threw across Union Street. It’s greasy and grimy. And has my fingerprints all over it.

“Yeah, I guess I did, I’m sorry.” I can’t look him in the eye.

“Well, son, I guess you ought to hit the general store and get a new one, don’t you think?” I nod my head.

He turns towards the girl, “What’s your name, young lady?”

“Darcy.” She is defiant. Looking him straight in the eye.

“Okay, Darcy, well, Jake here will bring you a new one tomorrow. That ok?”

“Thank you.” With that, she struts off through the front door.

Mr. McGennis turns towards me, “Son, you best buy a new ball tonight and bring it to that young lady tomorrow. Her mom came by here the other day about her linkage. I don’t need her to have a reason to not bring her car by. You got me, son?”

“Yes, sir.” I nod and head back towards the garage.

“Don’t forget, Jake. I’m serious.” I raise my hand and head towards a mini-van which is suddenly a much more welcome sight.

I get away with as few words as possible. I just graduated high school myself. Everyone called me “SM,” short for “Silent Man.” It’s not that I didn’t have anything to say. I was always just too scared and uncomfortable to say anything. I think my classmates just assumed I had greater wisdom. What few friends I had seemed to hang on my every word. Not because they were so great, mind you, but because they were so few. Supply and Demand in action, I suppose.

I finish putting on the new rotors and get ready to clock out.

“So, you got yourself a girlfriend, after all, tough guy?” Chance Alvieri spits at me.

I’ve always hated this guy. He’s about 6 years older than me and 4 years dumber. He knew my brother way back when. But that’s another story for another time.

I ignore him and head for my car, another day of work behind me.

The door makes a satisfying 'clunk' and I start the car. There would've been worse days to have to run an errand before going home. I back my car out of the parking lot, and wonder if Dixon's has any baseballs in stock, otherwise, I'll have to drive out to the Wal Mart.

Introduction to Jake & Darcy

Jake and Darcy is the first fictional work that I embarked upon that was not meant to be a short story. The genesis of it was driving home from work one day and I saw a girl throwing a ball to herself in her backyard, not far from where I work. My mind immediately went into fantasy land and I was trying to figure out why this poor girl was all by herself, on a beautiful summer afternoon, stuck playing by herself. Where were her friends, her family? Didn't she have anyone to play with?

And I started to fill in those blanks and the first portion of Jake & Darcy was born. As of this writing, I have 8 parts finished. I haven't worked on it in over a 8 months, but I think I may well get back to it. I think there's a good story here, somewhere. I can't promise I'll finish it, or even continue on it any longer, but I figured I'd throw it up here for the hell of it.

Who knows, Jake & Darcy might both have something to add in the future. It's weird, but even so much time later, I feel like it's already become their story and I'm just waiting for them to tell me where they're going next.

Introduction

No, you're not seeing double. Well, maybe you are, if you have both screens open. Anyway, I write a lot of shit, not just about my life as a lawyer and cook. Some fiction, some random stuff, I've even written a haiku. Want to read it? Ok, I'll oblige.

I say fuck you gimp
The gimp says I will fuck off
Me now happy, yay.

It's a work in progress.

Anyway, I'll keep blogging about the normal shit I do over at Night and Day. This will be for other shit.