Firstliners

Pt 1: Jack's Profound Lack of Sleep

Jack opened his eyes.

The summer sun made a blazing halo around the edges of the shuttered blinds. Jack lazily slid from the bed; leaving a sweat drenched outline behind. Another hot sleepless night followed by another day of useless non-progression. My life is shit. He shuffled into the bathroom to take a whiz. Jack stood hands on hips as he relieved his bladder not caring if his arrow hit the target.

He wiped sweat from his brow and reached in and turned on the shower. Jack didn’t plan on actually washing the grime from his lanky 5’10 frame; he had long ago stopped caring about his appearance. He stepped under the chilly stream only to let the cold water simultaneously wake up and cool down. If this helped remove the sweaty summer stink, well that was okay.

Jack raised the unmade Murphy bed into the wall, and then sat naked on the lone vinyl covered dining room chair in front of his only vanity purchase of the year: a fan. The top of the line model blew cooling air towards Jack quick drying his pallid skin. His wispy hair flopped about his shoulders as it dried to dull dishwater blond. The picture on the cheap 13” ‘8o’s era TV flipped and rolled whenever the planes from Dulles airport roared overhead. Since his mother died -- because of his mother’s death -- this small one room furnished apartment was all he could afford. Jack stood; the vinyl of the chair leaving a many diamonded pattern on his pale skin.

He stood at the short counter next to the small two burner gas stove and poured himself a cup of cold day-old coffee and stuck it in the microwave. As the microwave buzzed the coffee to palatable drinkability, Jack stepped into the jeans he wore yesterday and the day before that. Come to think of it I should probably wash these tonight before they start to chaff. The buzzer went off; Jacked pulled the cup from the microwave and reached into the waist-high frig and got a couple of ice cubes to cool the coffee down. He grabbed a clean white tee-shirt from the open drawer and headed out.

The sun beat upon him with hot ireful fists. There’s nothin’ like August in DC. Jack walked along the third floor balcony passing the windows and doors of the other rooms; he could see glimpses of other lives. None are as depressing as mine. He stayed close to the wall in a thin strip of shadow provide by the metal awning above; another plane took off rattling the windows. Once in the parking lot he headed for the bus stop at the corner. Twenty minutes and one sweat-drenched tee-shirt later the bus arrived; he sat the empty mug down and boarded the bus.

It took an hour to get to Falls Church metro train subway station on bus. Another forty five minutes to get to Rosslyn station where he transferred from the orange line train to the blue line. An hour to get to the King Street station where he changed to a yellow line train, and half an hour to the final station on the yellow line Huntington. There Jack caught another bus to get to the Manor Care Nursing Home in Fort Hunt where he worked.

It wasn’t just a job for Jack. If I had a choice I would certainly work somewhere more convenient. No, this was necessity. Before he clocked in he went up to the third floor. The elevator doors opened to a sterile white corridor. Jack turned left and walked down to the room. The older man lay prostrate on the bed taking in slow laborious breaths. When Jack had seen his mother for the last time she had told him her wishes.

“You have to take care of Uncle Johnny, Jackie,” Teckla Jones said.

“How, Momma, he’s up in Maine. How am I supposed to pull that off?”

“Bring him closer if you have to, I don’t care you just take care of him.”

“But he’s in a coma. What can I do?”

“Make sure they don’t pull the plug. Uncle Johnny left all that money for his care and I have been taking good care of him since the accident, now it’s your job.”

“But,” Jack pleaded.

“Don’t but me; you can do it. I expect you to do it. Be a man, don’t disappoint me again, Jackie.”

And that was the end of the conversation. She had laid down her law. And I have to abide by it; even though she has been rotting in her grave for three years now. Jack sat in the chair next to Johnny Jones’ bed. She left me nothing. Put all her money into taking care of him. I’m living in that infested converted motel room and this piece of meat is lying here receiving the best possible treatment money can buy. Why?

When Teckla had finally succumbed to breast cancer three summers ago; Jack had a meeting with her lawyer and heard the worst news of his short thirty-five years. Directly from her lips; Teckla had made a video after she had been diagnosed with terminal breast cancer.

“If you are listening to this Jackie then I guess I am finally gone. I doubt that you are sad about that -- well maybe -- but not because I am not there for you anymore. I am sure you are sad because you won’t have my check book at your disposal. Oh well, these things happen, get over it.

“Though I haven’t yet, I intend to make my intensions for you clear. I just wanted to reiterate them here so you can’t say that you weren’t told. I want you to take care of your Uncle Johnny. He needs your assistance. So don’t let me down. This is now your responsibility. Johnny is on mechanical recitation in Maine this is true, so to forestall your objections and complaints about flying all the way to Bangor, Maine I have arranged for Johnny to be transferred to Manor Care in Virginia. In addition, and I have done this to show you that regardless of you inability to get and maintain a steady job, I have arranged with the administrator of Manor Care to give you a job. That should show how much I still love you.

“With that said. You shouldn’t have any excuses for not going to see Johnny on a regular basis; just stop in before your shift begins. He needs to hear the voice of someone familiar. Yes I know that you were born years after Johnny’s accident; I have been playing him recordings of your voice when I visit so he would recognize your voice. So stop complaining.

“If you are think that there may by some way for you to get out of this; Stop! I have struck a deal with the administrator of Manor Care. You see they didn’t have a job for you, all their positions where full. So I set up a separate fund from my estate that will pay your salary. You are to visit Johnny everyday at 12:00 pm for two hours at which time you will have your lunch there in his room. Then you are to report to work at 3:00pm. In order to receive your money from my estate you will have to remain in Manor Care’s employment, and maintain this schedule until the day Johnny dies. At which point you will receive the remainder of my estate and Johnny’s estate. So it is in your best interest to keep your job.”

Jack sat in the chair at exactly 12:00pm. For three years he had been coming to this room for ‘The Visit,’ then going to work at ‘The Job.’ I have nothing to show for the effort.

“Are you ready?” Juan Diaz asked.

Jack turned to see Juan standing in the doorway holding a mustard yellow plastic lunch tray. “Yes I guess.”

Juan stepped into the room, “you didn’t get any sleep again last night did you?”

“No.”

“Not even a short nap?”

“No, not a wink,” Jack said looking at the dried pork chop and limp vegetables.

“Sorry I couldn’t get away to get you something good. It’s cafeteria food today. Did you take the Xanax?”

“No, I’m afraid I’ll get hooked.”

Juan sat on the bed next to Johnny’s prone body. “It’s probably those damned planes flying over head. Maybe you should stay at my place again; at least you got some sleep there.”

“As I remember, I didn’t get that much sleep; neither did you.”

“You forget you’ve been banned from my bed. The playground is off limits until you get yourself under control. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I want you healthy so you can come back to the playground.”

“I know, I know. I don’t need another lecture Juan.”

“Have you talked to the lawyer like I told you to?”

“No.”

“Why, Jackie. You can get out from underneath this. Your mother’s Will is full of holes. You just have to contest it.”

“I know Juan.”

“Then why won’t you help yourself. I can’t make you do it; you have to want to do it.”

“I just can’t get the bitch out of my head. Every time I want to get on with it she pops in there and mucks everything up.”

“She has really screwed you up. We have been seeing each other for four years now. You never cared about what she thought of us when she was alive, why care what she might think now. She’s been dead for three years. It’s time to move on.”

“I want too. That’s why I fought to have him,” Jack stabbed a finger at Johnny, “taken off of life support, but it’s like she’s controlling my life from the grave. He couldn’t even be considerate enough to die. Uncle Johnny has been off life support for a year and a half now, and he’s still breathing, still blinking his eyes. It’s like they’re mocking me.”

“You’re thinking too much about it. Just go to court and break the Will. Then we can get on with our lives: together.”

Maybe Juan is right I am just thinking about it too much. Maybe I just need to get on with my life; our lives. Maybe I need to move in with Juan. He wants me to; he’s asked me to do so repeatedly. I do sleep better when I am at his place.

“You’re sure it’s okay to crash at your place?” Jack asked.

“I wouldn’t have offered if it weren’t,” Juan said as he stood up.

“Ok, it will be nice not to have to travel all the way home.”

“Yes, and you can get a decent shower too.” Juan walked out of the room, “I’ll be back in an hour to get the tray and dirty dishes.” Then he was gone.

Jack looked thru the open door into the empty corridor space wanting -- willing -- him to come back. He’s the only person in my life that stabilizes me.

“Hello Jack.”

Jack jumped out of the chair rubbing his eyes. “What…who said that?” He stood beside Johnny’s bed. Jack spun trying to look everywhere, trying to see everything; realizing nothing -- no one -- was there. He rubbed at his eyes again and realized that he had nodded off. Wow, so I can sleep. It had been so long I didn’t realize that I had.  Johnny breathed, slow and heavy, laboring for every breath. Maybe he’ll die and free me from this hell. Jack made no attempt to get help for the comatose man. Then Johnny sucked in a deep breath and released his bowels; the stink filled the roomed. A slow moan issued from Johnny’s open mouth as he exhaled then he slowly started to breathe in his annoyingly slow pace. Damn, he is mocking me.

Jack lay on Juan’s couch: awake.

He glanced at the glowing hands of the alarm clock Juan placed on the shelf near the flat screen TV: 4:35am. Jack turned over on his side. Moonlight glimmered through the windows throwing the living room into shadow. He could see just enough to look around the room. Whenever I come here I feel like I’ve stepped into an IKEA catalogue. Hell I put most of it together. Jack sat up throwing the blanket off.

He went to Juan’s bedroom and knocked lightly on the door. “Juan, are you up?”

“Now I am.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

Jack opened the door and tipped toed into the room.

“Why are you being so quiet now, you’ve already woke me?”

“I don’t know. Can I get in?”

“So you haven’t gotten any sleep?”

“No.”

“Yes, get in.” Juan pulled the covers back and Jack slid in beside him.

“Thanks.”

“No funny stuff, okay."

“Okay. Can I lay close,” Juan looked at him sharply, “it might help, please.”

“Alright,” Juan said with a slight smile.

“Thanks.” Juan turned over and Jack scooched up next to him.
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The summer night was cool and clear, the air crisp. It felt familiar. The moon flew high in the night sky above the soaring mountain range in the distance to the left. On the right a vast plain; the tall grass undulating in the breeze. Jack stood at the cross roads.

One cobbled road shot off in opposite directions parallel to the mountains; its perpendicular bisected the plain in one direction, and in the other rose high into the mountains disappearing through the peaks. “Which way should I go?” His words floated away on the cool night air.

Jack looked long and hard in all directions; he was alone. The decision is mine and mine alone. I have to make it and make it fast. Which way should I go?

The talons clicked slowly and deliberate along the stony road: Jack spun. Slinking cautiously up the road from the plain a large, hairy and powerful looking beast moved along the side of the road towards Jack. Its powerful muscles rippled beneath matted fur as it walked. Jack stood frozen in the deep glistening stare of the creature. It moved to the center of the road with a quick hop that made Jack involuntarily step backwards. The hairy thing quickened its pace fearing the quarry would run. Jack terrified stood frozen as the hairy beast rushed at him; as the thing drew near Jack’s senses where assaulted. He could see the blazing yellow of its eyes, hear the growl rumbling from a mouth laden with razor sharp canines, and smell the overwhelming odors of fetid meat and dirty hair.

The werewolf leapt into the air and pummeled Jack to the cobbled road. Its large mouth clamped down onto Jack’s shoulder and neck, the teeth grinding deep into Jack’s flesh. Jack screamed until his throat seized closed from the effort. Then it was gone.

Jack scrambled to his feet feeling his shoulder and neck wanting to stop the blood he knew should be flowing freely. But it wasn’t. No blood. No bite. The pain was there; only pain. Jack spun in the center of the crossroads again. Looking for the beast; afraid it might return.

A man stood on the road leading to the in the center of the road leading up into the mountains about twenty feet away: naked and shivering, bite marks at the shoulder and neck, blood streaming down his bare chest: Johnny. Younger, but it definitely was Johnny. “Why haven’t you come for me?” Johnny pleaded.

“What?”

“I have been lost for so long. Why haven’t you come? I’m so afraid.”

“Leave him!” The sharp female voice came from behind, Jack turned to face her. “He’s nothing. I told you I’d keep you here and here you’ll stay.”

Jack looked in astonishment at the apparition before him. It’s mother, but she’s different. She’s younger also, but it’s more than that. She’s wearing chainmail. Others were there now; they rose slowly out of the tall grass of the plain on either side of the road. “What do you mean leave him? Are you talking about me or him?” Jack asked, but quickly realized that she was not talking to him at all.

The chainmail wearing Teckla strolled determinedly towards him as she did so she drew a large sword and raised it above her head. She started to run drawing the sword back preparing for a powerful swing. Oh my God she’s going to kill me. She’s finally going to do it. Teckla advanced; just when Jack thought his life over, Teckla run straight through him.

“What the hell?”

Jack spun to see Teckla bring the sword around, “No!” and cleave off Johnny’s head. Johnny’s head flew in an arc disappearing into the high grass; the body took several steps then fell to the cobbles.

Jack screamed, “You fucking bitch.”

Teckla turned and glared at Jack. The others came out of the grass; one had retrieved Johnny’s head, carrying it at arms length by the hair. They all went to stand behind Teckla. Jack saw that they were all women. “Have you decided, Jack. You must choose.”

“Choose, what are you talking about?”

Teckla strode confidently toward him. “You are the gift or the pariah: Choose.”

Her eyes flared yellow. “You are the serpent of hell or you are a servant of heaven: Choose!”

“No! I am tired of you running my life. You don’t control me anymore.”

“So you have chosen already.”

“No! I refuse to choose.”

“That in of itself is a choice,” one of the other women said.

“Valla don’t address the apparition, you do not know what the outcome may be. All witches know this, I can address it because it is -- will be -- of my flesh and blood. It cannot harm me.”

That’s curious. Harm her, how can I harm her they are not real. Teckla ran right through me the same thing should happen to this Valla. In an attempt to prove this point Jack reached out and took Valla’s hand is his. It’s solid. How is that possible?

Valla screamed a blood cuddling scream and exploded in a shower of blood and bits of bone. The fragments struck Jack and the others all over. He stood there covered in what remained of Valla. Teckla prepared to strike. Jack started to scream. A high waling scream in a pitch that shattered Teckla’s raised her sword.

Her remaining companions covered their ears. Blood flowed from their noses and mouths. Their eyes exploded from their heads with little popping sounds.

“Stop it you’re killing them. Stop the death cry.”

The beast rose from the grass behind Teckla. Low at first, then up on its hind legs; it rose to well over two meters tall. Its glowing yellow eyes looking approvingly down on Jack, “You have chosen.” Teckla turned to face it too late. The beast pounced on her and bit.
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“Jack wake up,” Juan shook Jack harder, “Jack wake up. Baby, please stop screaming. It’s only a nightmare. It’s only a nightmare.”

Still screaming; Jack scrambled out of the bed and fell to the floor. He got up and ran blindly across the room and hit the wall. He crumbled to the floor, and then crawled into the corner and cradled himself. He stopped screaming, but the tears started flow down his cheeks. He rocked and cried.

Juan knelt beside him. “Jackie, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”

“So real, so fucking real,” Jack mumbled.

“Dreams always feel that way, but they’re just dreams. The feeling will pass.” Juan smoothed Jack sweaty hair back.

Jack looked up at him, and then caught Juan in a ferocious hug. “Don’t leave me, please. Don’t leave. I can’t do this on my own. Please help me?”

“What are you talking about? Jackie I’m not going anywhere.” Juan got Jack to let go and looked him in the eyes, “What’s going on, Jack? It was just a nightmare, you’ve had them before.”

“Not like this one.”

“What do you mean?”

“This seemed…real. To real; it felt like I was really there.”

“Where,” Juan asked.

“I don’t know. It felt familiar, like I’ve been there before; like déjà vu. There was a werewolf and witches. Oh my God this all sounds crazy. Am I losing my mind Juan?”

“No, no, baby. You’ve just been under a lot of stress.”

“No this was different. It was like I was there and not there. I think that this was a real place and that I was really there. And another thing, my mom was there and so was Johnny up and walking around. At least he was until mom chopped his head off.”

“Jack that definitely was not real; it just felt that way. You had a very real feeling nightmare that left you shaken. Now come on let’s get you in the shower and you’ll forget about it.”

Jack didn’t want to think that the dream was actually real, but he couldn’t help feeling that way. He let himself be led to the bathroom, where Juan proceeded to remove the pajama pants he gave Jack to put on last night and turn on the shower. He let the water get to just the right temperature and helped Jack -- not that he needed the help -- into the shower and pulled the glass shower door closed.

“And use soap and the washcloth Jack, don’t make me come in there and wash you myself.”

“Promises, promises; you’re such a tease.”
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“The August heat will blaze to 101 degrees today for the fifth day in a row,” the weatherman said swiping at his forehead, “when will this heat wave end? I’ll let you know when we come back.” The news cut to a commercial touting a computer generated gecko with an English accent purveying the wonders of car insurance. Jack sat next to Johnny’s bed wondering not for the first time why he kept up this charade.

“Why haven’t you come for me?” Johnny pleaded in an unused raspy voice.

Jack jumped out of the chair and stared at the elderly man lying in the bed. Johnny made just the slightest turn of his head. Had Jack not been looking at Johnny, he would have never noticed the new placement. Johnny’s eyes rolled slowly in Jack’s direction and locked on him.

“You have chosen. Why have you not come?”

The words came fumbling from lips that hadn’t from any in nearly thirty years, still they were clear, concise and demanded Jack’s attention. “Why now?” jack asked not knowing why, but certain that that was the right question.

“You have chosen.”

“Everybody keeps saying that, but I don’t understand. What have I chosen?”

“You are Alpha; you have accepted your fate.”

“Alpha, what,” Jack asked confused.

“You must travel back. You have it within you to do so. Stop fighting.”

“I’m not fighting, I don’t know what I would be fighting if I were. Why do you keep talking in riddles? Just tell me what you are talking about.”

“You already know. Your mate has returned. I’ll give you my only gift.” There was a crash of dishes to the floor. Jack turned and saw Juan standing in the doorway a tray of food at his feet.

“What the hell. He’s talking. He’s awake.”

The heart monitor beeped three more times than flat lined. Johnny’s face had turned an ashy blue pallor. Jack knew Johnny was gone.