Jackson- a short story

more of a bittersweet story, ah well

Jackson 

The clock chimed 11:45 as I lay awake in bed. Mom had briefly popped her head in to see if I was still awake. It probably was the only time tonight I actually tried to look like I was asleep. I heard her tiptoe down the hall and slip into her room, probably satisfied to not see Dad in the bed. Rubbing my eyes, I stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly my cellphone began to ring. I grabbed it and quickly hit answer.

“Hello?” I whispered.

“Hey kiddo.” 

I furrowed my brow and glanced quickly at the door. “Who is this?” I murmured.

The man chuckled. “Who is the only person who calls you kiddo?”

I swallowed hard. “Jackson…?” 

“You got it. I always knew you were a smart girl.” 

Very slowly I stood and crept toward the door. Pushing it open just a crack, I slipped into the hallway. Checking to make sure the light was off in Mom’s room, I jammed my shoes on and stepped outside. He was still there, I could hear his breath crackle through the receiver. 

“Jackson, where are you?” I asked quietly as I jerked open the door to Dad’s old truck.

“By Red River. Why? Something wrong kiddo?” 

I slammed the door. Jamming the keys into the ignition, the engine started with a jump. My loose blonde hair dangled in my eyes as I turned the truck out of the driveway. Catching a glimpse of my mother throwing open the front door as I drove away. I pushed my hair back behind my ear and wedged the phone on my shoulder. 

“Where on earth have you been all this time, Jack!?” I snapped angrily. 

“Hey calm down kiddo. Just got fed up was all. Needed to take a quick vacation. You know, just a small escape from life for a bit.” 

I choked back a sob. I couldn’t tell if it was from happiness or fear, but he called me. If that means anything, I have to keep him talking, just until I find him. “Jack, you were… well still are, missing. You left three weeks ago.” 

He stifled a laugh. “Yeah. It was a great trip. You should come next time, it would be fun.” 

“Jack, you know I…” 

He cut me off before I could finish. “Listen, Lily. I didn’t mean to leave like I did. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t deal with everything at the time. Hurting you was my biggest mistake and I’m truly sorry. Forgive me?” Jackson’s voice began to fade.

Easing off the gas, I wiped my eyes. Nodding to myself. “Of course I forgive you,” I whispered, teary eyed. “But you have to come home now, Jack. Please?” 

He gave a tired laugh. “You know I can’t do that.” 

“Jack I’m close. I can help you. I promise I won’t call the cops.” I pleaded as I pulled the truck over and took the keys with me. Quickly leaping from the truck, I began to jog, tentatively picking my way through the scattered birch trees.

“Lily,” He sighed. “If I had a choice, it would have been you. But I can’t sit here and watch everyone leave. I think it’s time I greeted them.”

My heart seized in my chest. I ran faster. 

“No Jackson. Please hold on, I’m almost there.”

“I love you Kiddo, take care of her for me.” 

No no no, I thought frantically. My feet pounded the ground. Trees pushed me around like linebackers, but I refused to slow down.

A gunshot echoed through the woods.

I fell to my knees. Tears burning my cheeks. 

Two Weeks Later 

I watched in silence as Pastor Morrison closed the lid to his coffin. The wood clicked shut heavily concealing the man I loved with all my heart, but couldn’t help. All two-hundred people began to file out of the church, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. I quietly walked to the front of the church, staring down at the polished wood coffin. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, Lily.” Pastor Morrison murmured as he laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “He was a good man.” 

Forcing a watery smile, I nodded. He really was, I thought, my eyes drifting back to the coffin. A part of me hoped to see his smiling face again, another part of me wished for him to stay at peace. Brushing my fingers across the wood, my chin fell to my chest as I whispered a quiet prayer. Opening my eyes, I smiled one last time down at the coffin and turned back around, ambling slowly to the church’s large double doors. 

His sister Francine stood by the doors quietly. Shaking hands and smiling softly as people gave her their condolences. She quickly dabbed her eyes before turning to me, her blue eyes glassy. “Thank you for coming,” Francine whispered as she squeezed me hand. “He was always so fond of you. Always saying that he knew you were the one.” 

My heart leapt to my throat. I swallowed hard. “I’m really sorry Frankie. He really loved you.” 

Francine nodded solemnly, dropping her hand to her side.

“Where’s Ella?” I asked quietly. 

Francine nodded towards the garden. Leaning close she whispered, “She left halfway through service, when Pastor shut the coffin. She’s just so… fragile… now.” 

I squeezed her hand and offered a smile. “She’ll be alright. She’s a toughie, like her dad.” Giving Frankie one last embrace, I pushed through the doors and hung a left. The garden was severely overgrown, the massive rose bush choked the small metal gate and the flowers bloomed by me knees. Stepping over the gate and into the small garden, I pushed my way through the tall grass. Lilacs and roses speckled the across the yard, coloring it in shades of pinks, purples and whites. Sunlight gleamed through the tree branches and a soft breeze caused the tall grass to dance. 

Ella sat on the granite bench under the cherry tree, turning a smooth stone over in her palm.

I dipped low under the trees canopy and sat lightly next to her. “How are you doing, Ella?” I whispered.

She sniffed and turned her face from mine. A blanket of silky brown hair concealing her eyes. 

I motioned to the rock. “What’s that?” 

Pushing her hair behind her ear, she whispered, “A stone. Daddy painted my name for me. He said that when I feel lonely, I can hold the stone and he’ll be with me.” A tear slid down her freckled cheek. She quickly began turning the stone again. 

“It’s beautiful. You know? Your Dad really liked rocks.” I sighed as I let myself relax against the breeze. 

Ella looked up at me. Wiping her eyes, she whispered, “Can you tell me about Daddy?”

Smiling, I offered my hand to her. “I’d love to, Ella.” 

She slid her hand into mine, and squeezed it tight. The stone pressed tightly against her palm and mine. 

Author's Note

Tell me what you think. Did I capture emotions well? Any suggestions or errors?

Reviews

[Judy McIntosh]

I thought this story was great. You did capture the emotions, especially when she was racing to him. Cheers, judy

[Turtle :)]

Thank you so much, Judy!
- Turtle :)