JACK KNIFED (7 page)

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Authors: Christopher Greyson

BOOK: JACK KNIFED
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Death Sucks

They pulled up outside Bartlet’s Family Restaurant. It was a large log cabin with a wide wraparound porch. Jack stretched as he opened the car door. He couldn’t get over how warm the winter had been. A jacket was still needed, but for the beginning of February, it was a heat wave.

Quite a few cars were parked outside, so Jack hoped the food would be good. Replacement zipped up the wide, short steps and held the door open for him. The entrance to the restaurant was a spacious front room that doubled as a gift shop. Everything was either on a yellow pine shelf or in a yellow pine barrel. They had many plastic toys for kids, crafts, shirts, and caps that lined the walls.

Jack turned around to look for Replacement, but she was nowhere to be seen. He walked back and found her examining a pink T-shirt with HOPE FALLS written in the middle of a large red heart. He grabbed her by the arm and headed for the hostess in the far corner.

“Can I look for a minute?” Replacement begged.

“You can look for an hour after we eat.” Jack smiled. “Table for two,” he said to the young woman who stood behind the wooden podium.

She smiled, grabbed some menus, and led them to a little corner booth. Replacement clapped her hands after she slid in. Jack looked out the window to see what had made her so happy, and almost clapped his hands, too. Behind the restaurant was a small garden with a little natural waterfall in the back.

“Isn’t it pretty?” their waitress remarked, stopping beside their table. “I just love it. It’s so romantic.” She gave Replacement a little pat on the shoulder and winked.

“It’s beautiful.” Replacement kept gazing out the window.

Jack suddenly stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

The waitress looked perplexed. “Do you want to order?”

“A burger and fries,” Jack called over his shoulder as he marched back into the store. “And a Coke.”

He walked into the gift shop again and scanned the shelves. He looked around a little but didn’t see what he needed.

“Do you have any notebooks?” he asked the woman who had seated them.

“Yes, we do. Right here.” She moved over and pointed to a section with two notebooks: a thin one covered in puffy baby farm animals and a thicker one in purple with sparkling confetti and “HOPE FALLS” written in pink.

Jack rolled his eyes and paid for the thicker notebook, along with a pen.

“She’ll love them,” the woman confidently assured him.

“Who will?”

“Your girlfriend.” She smiled.

Jack grabbed the bag and hurried back to the table. Replacement looked out the window as he slid back into the booth.

“Where did you go?”

“I needed to get a notebook,” he explained as he put it on the table. Her eyes went wide, and she snickered. Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What’re you, four years old?”

“Me? I’m not the one with the Pretty Pony notebook.” She laughed. Jack stuck his chin out, and she held her hands up. “Sorry.”

“Anyway,” he pulled all the notes out of his pocket, “I figured we could get started organizing the information we have.” Replacement opened her mouth and closed it quickly. Jack spread the notes out on the table.

“I’ll write.” She held out her hand, and he gave her the pen.

They spent the next hour eating while they transcribed the notes. Once they had everything written down, he frowned. “We don’t have much.”

“It’s a good start.” Replacement slurped down the last of her drink and ended with a loud smack of her lips.

Jack continued to scowl. “There wasn’t much in the paper.”

“There was at the beginning.”

“The story faded out fast.”

Replacement shrugged, and they settled into an awkward silence. She went back to watching the waterfall as he read over the notes again. After a few minutes, Jack stood up. As he went to pay the bill, Replacement slid out of the booth.

“You said I could look around,” she called as she headed back to the little shop.

Great. How long can she look at knickknacks?

Jack groaned at his own question and followed after her. Once again, Replacement was out of sight. He swept the perimeter to look for her, and located her back at the pink shirt she had admired before. She looked at him hopefully, and he narrowed his eyes.

“I’m just kidding,” he teased. He grabbed a matching pink baseball hat off the shelf. “Get the hat, too.”

“Really? No. I don’t want to spend—”

“Get them. They’ll look good on you.”

Replacement blushed, and took the shirt off the rack.

“Come on. I want to make one stop before we head back to the inn.” Jack moved to the register.

“Where?” she asked.

“There was a little general store in town. I’m hoping they have what I need.”

“You’re not gonna tell me?” She walked up next to him.

“It’s none of your business.” Jack took the shirt and hat and handed them over to the cashier. “Just these.”

“Did your girlfriend like the notebook?” The lady smiled toward Replacement.

“What? No, she’s not…” Jack winced when Replacement pinched him.

“He’s such a kidder.” Her arm slid around Jack’s waist, and she gave him a hard hug. “Thanks, sweetie. I loved my notebook.”

“Sure…buttercup. Let’s go.” Jack pinched her cheek.

He smirked and headed for the door as Replacement grabbed the bag and hurried to catch up.

“Buttercup?” she whispered. “Come on. You suck at being undercover.”

“Don’t start the whole undercover thing again.”

“What do you mean? I did great undercover.”

“We’re not undercover.” Jack’s voice got louder as they walked out of the building and toward the car.

“Are we telling people what we’re doing?” Replacement looked perplexed.

“No.”

“Ha!” She pointed a finger in his face. “Then we’re undercover.”

“No, we’re just not…” Jack pulled open his door and leaned on the roof of the car as Replacement walked to her side. “Fine. But we’re not doing the boyfriend-girlfriend thing.”

“That’s our cover. You can’t be undercover unless you have a cover, and that’s our cover.”

“We can pick another one.” Jack frowned.

“No, we can’t. What? What would we pick? We’re really a traveling circus team?” Replacement pantomimed juggling.

“No.” Jack tried not to, but he smiled at her joke as they got into the car. “The best covers have truth to them; we say that you’re my sister.”

“I’m not your sister.”

“You’re my foster sister.” Jack’s grin had vanished.

“Jack.” Replacement shut her door, wrapped her arms around herself and leaned away from him. “You didn’t live at Aunt Haddie’s when I came to live there. You were already out.”

“Yeah? But I consider Michelle and Chandler my brother and sister.”

“That’s different. You lived with them. You didn’t live with me.”

“So, you’re saying that you don’t consider me…like a big brother?”

Replacement made a face as if she ate a bug. “No.”

Jack put the car in drive and pulled out.

Well, thanks a lot, kid.

Jack pushed his tape of Johnny Cash into the cassette deck and turned up the volume. The Impala roared as he sped onto the main road back to town, “God’s Gonna Cut You Down” blaring over the speakers.

Great. Just great. I take her in, and what? That’s how she thinks of me? I’m not like a big brother? Chandler is, and I’m not?

Jack could picture Chandler’s reaction to his jealousy. His large friend would have tried to calm Jack down but would have been laughing at the same time.

Why is it I feel like I can just call him? If I drive over, then Chandler will still be there? Death sucks.

 

Traveling Circus

Jack pulled over at the general store in the center of town. It was the largest building on the block, and employees were bringing in the miscellaneous items they’d set out for display earlier in the day. As he turned the car off, he watched a family walk down the sidewalk.

A young boy tugged at his father’s arm. The man had his other arm around his pregnant wife, who smiled and waved to a car that passed.

This would have been my hometown. It’s like Mayberry. I would have grown up here. No motels. What…

The leather on the steering wheel creaked as his grip tightened and Jack shut his eyes. He wanted to smash something. He flung open his door and jumped out of the car. He made so much noise the father turned to look at him. The man’s smile quickly disappeared, and he pulled his wife and son closer as he kept them moving.

Jack slammed the car door shut and headed for the store. He was at the entrance when he realized Replacement wasn’t with him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her lean against the car. She had her arms crossed and was scowling.

He kept going. He pulled the glass door open and a little bell rang overhead. Row upon row of neatly stocked shelves filled the right section. Racks of clothes were on the left. Jack frowned. The checkout was in the back of the store. It was a throwback to a more innocent age when people were trusted. The policeman in him cringed.

A few shoppers were scattered around the store, but he was looking for an employee. A young girl with a red apron stocked some shelves. She stopped as Jack approached.

“Can I help you?” She was maybe sixteen, with blond pigtails, braces, and a warm smile.

“I need an air mattress.”

“I know where one is.” The girl spun around and walked down the aisle. As she searched the shelves, she held her finger out in front of her like a pointer.

“Nope…no…it was…here,” she proclaimed as she located the one faded box. “Are you using it for sleeping?”

Jack blinked a couple of times and tried not to smirk.

“Actually, I’m with a traveling circus and we need it because our net broke.”

The girl’s eyes became saucers, and her neck lengthened. “Really?”

Jacked laughed. The girl kept smiling, waiting for him to elaborate.

He laughed again, louder. “I’m sorry; it’s a joke. I just—”

A loud pop was followed by the tinkle of broken glass. The girl screamed and jumped around. Just behind her, an old woman stood frozen in place. Her hands were out in front of her, and whatever she’d been holding lay in a million pieces at her feet. Jack glanced first at the shelf in front of her and then at the glass punch bowls, but her face drew his eyes back. He couldn’t place the emotions that raced across her eyes.
Fear. Confusion. Warmth.

“Are you okay?” Jack moved the clerk to the side and slowly approached the woman. “You should back up a little because of the glass.”

The woman seemed to age even more before his eyes as she continued to grow paler. Her trembling, gnarled hand reached up to her mouth while the other pulled her jacket tighter to her chest. She stepped forward; her feet crunched the glass on the floor.

Jack angled his head and tried to smile as he reached out to steady her. She didn’t take his outstretched hand. Instead, her hand touched the side of his face as she moved even closer. The woman was in her seventies. She was very small and slightly hunched over. Her white hair was short and wispy, but her blue eyes were bright and now glistened with tears.

“I’m sorry, do I know your parents?” The woman’s voice was a whisper.

Jack swallowed. He opened his mouth and closed it again.

“Mrs. Ritter? Mrs. Ritter!” An older man with a red apron rushed down the aisle toward them.

She didn’t take her eyes from Jack’s face. She smiled at him, and a large tear ran down her wrinkled cheek.

“I think…” Jack straightened up. “I don’t think so. I’m not from around here.”

The old woman’s lip trembled, and her hand fell back to her side.

“I’m sorry, sir.” The clerk put his arm around her shoulder.

Jack grabbed the mattress box and spun around. Replacement stood behind him. As he stormed by, she reached for his arm, but he didn’t slow down; he marched to the checkout counter and quickly counted out the bills.

“Jack…”

“Don’t.”

He kept his eyes on the floor as he retreated to the car. Replacement’s door had barely closed when Jack whipped the car out of the space. His face was white, and his jaw was set.

“Jack…”

“I said don’t.”

“She’s your—”

“Nothing. You don’t know.” He smacked the steering wheel. “My mother was a whore. How do I know that he even was my father?”

“Jack.” Replacement sat up. Jack glared over at her; she closed her eyes and whispered, “Jack, you know he’s your fa—”

“You don’t know. I doubt Patricia knew who the real father was. He could have been a hundred different guys.”

“Look at that picture. He looks just like you.”

Jack’s teeth ground together. “Even if he was, so what? He was probably as crazy as her. He dated a whore. What kind of man—?”

“He was seventeen. Maybe he was nice.” Replacement looked down at her hands. “Maybe he was like you.”

“Like me?” Jack scoffed. “You don’t know him. You don’t know what he was like. You don’t even know me.”

He stepped on the gas, and the Impala raced forward.

“I know you.” She spun on the seat to stare at him.

“No, you don’t.” He slammed on the brakes at the red light. “Be glad you don’t.”

“I do know you. Michelle talked about you all the time.”

“That’s different. That’s the outside. She told you about what I was doing, or stuff we did when we were little. She didn’t tell you about me. Stuff in here.” He pointed at his head.

Replacement’s voice lowered. “She told me about here.” She pointed to her heart.

Jack froze. He stared at the dashboard and the hairs on the back of his neck rose with his breathing.

“She wouldn’t have told you. Not about…personal things.”

Damn it. Damn it. Michelle wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t break that trust.

“She was worried about you,” Replacement whispered.

“Did she…? Damn it,” he snarled.

“We were like sisters.” Replacement pulled her legs up and hugged them.

Jack’s anger swirled the silence into an uncomfortable void between them.

“That’s a reason for her to break my confidence? What did…?”

Jack’s mind raced. He had confided everything about himself to Michelle. To him, it was so odd. She was two years younger than he was, but ever since they were kids, she’d been his confidant and advisor.

“After Chandler…you didn’t come back, and she didn’t know what was going on with you. Michelle was hurting too, and I think talking about you helped her. She was worried so…we talked.”

I told Michelle everything. All of it. Did she tell Replacement…everything?

Jack stomped the accelerator as the light turned green. The Impala’s rear tires spun for a second before the car shot forward. Jack snarled. “That doesn’t mean you know me.”

Replacement looked out the window. After a moment, she spoke, and her voice was flat. “You know nothing about me, Jack.”

The realization that she was right hit him in the throat. He caught his breath, and his foot eased off the gas. Over the last couple of months, he could only remember a half-dozen moments when Replacement was at Aunt Haddie’s.

Aunt Haddie brought her home when she was, like, eleven. Her real name is Alice, but she doesn’t like it. Why? Her last name is Campbell, but that just means she took Aunt Haddie’s name. What’s her real last name? What happened to her parents?

The list of unanswered questions was long. He glanced over at her, and she was still pensively looking out the window.
Was she thinking about the same things? Her parents? Her past?
She didn’t look over in his direction, and he couldn’t blame her.

She’s right. Ever since she showed up in my living room, what have I learned about her? She saved my life and I treat her like everyone else. I keep her out. I don’t want her to know about me, and I don’t know anything about her.

Jack stopped at another light and watched the cars slowly pass.

I take her into my life but I keep her at a distance. Jack, you’re a piece of work.

“I’m sorry.” His words hung in the air, but she didn’t turn her head. “You’re right. I don’t know anything about you, either.”

He heard her exhale, and she put her feet on the floor. Her voice was soft but clear as she spoke. “I think you’re wrong, Jack. Steven Ritter was your father.”

Jack pulled over and shut the car off but kept looking straight ahead.

“I know. I knew it when I saw the photo.” He touched his chest. “Michelle didn’t know me, and neither can you because I don’t know me.” Jack looked out his window. “As long as I can remember, I’ve always wondered who my father was. I’d be somewhere, see some man who looks sort of like me, and think… It drove me crazy, but I couldn’t stop doing it. I mean, I’d be arresting some guy, and I’d be thinking: could this be my father?”

Jack ran his hands through his hair, and then shook his head. “Now I find him and…I want to deny it. I want to say it’s not him. It’s some other guy but not him. I’m screwed up.”

Rain fell on the windshield and dinged off the roof.

“Jack, that’s not screwed up—it’s normal.”

“Crazy is the new black?”

“No, but anyone can understand why you wouldn’t want it to be him. I’m sorry that he’s dead.”

“Me too.”

The light rain turned into a downpour. The gray cloud cover had changed to black. A storm was coming.

 

 

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