A Man of his Word

It was a straight-up, wake-up moment of clarity and with it came a hand to God vow: Enough was enough, he was done! The moment of truth had arrived with the cold gray light creeping through the venetian-blinds of his bedroom window and his alarm clock bizz-bizz-bizzing from the bedside table.

Quite frankly, Johnnie W. Jackson was not going to take this any longer. He slammed his hand atop the alarm clock and silence rang through the air.

Squeezing his hands into little white-knuckled fists, he kicked the blankets off himself and his Dodger’s All-Star baseball pajamas. It was time to take a stand. Draw a line in the sand. Stand up for what you believe in. He was not walking the half block to school this morning no matter what anyone had to say about it, and that was that, end of discussion, come hell or high water, his answer was NO-- and when Johnnie W. Jackson says something he means it. You can take it to the bank, cause nobody is going to change his mind once it’s made up! Not his teacher, not the principle of the school, not the President of the United States of America, not Jesus Christ Himself if He came down here and stood in front of the bed and—

“Jonathan, get your butt out’a bed!” The voice rose up out of the floorboards and through the walls and down from the roof.

Johniie W, Jackson said a really bad word under his breath and got out of bed. He said a bad word because when Johnnie W. Jackson wants to curse under his breath, he curses under his breath, and nobody can stop him-- and by "nobody", he meant No Body including his grandmother-- case closed, end of conversation.

298 Words--