Chapter Two
Jack smiled when he saw whose name the caller ID showed on his cellphone screen. “Hey Angie, it’s nice to hear from you. What’s up?”
“Hi Jack, looks like I’ll be needing some work done on my house again.”
“You do? I thought after we finished the roof, you never wanted to see us again… me especially.” He teased one of his favorite customers on purpose.
“Oh poo. You know I adore you. If I didn’t have real work that needed to be done, I might just drive my car through the garage so I could bring you around again.”
“Honey, you did that last year. You’ll have to come up with a better ploy; maybe set fire to one of the back casitas.” He chuckled as he joked.
“Don’t laugh, Jack. It’s why I’m calling.
I actually want you to redo the bigger casita.
Not the one I use for my studio, but the one buried behind the cactus hedge.
It’s been bugging me for years about what to do with that place, and now I’m having my niece come to live here, and I want it to be as lovely as only you can make it. ”
“Okay, Angie. I’ll be there in about an hour. And I’ll love you forever if you have a Guinness cold and ready for me.”
“We’ll both be waiting – me and the beer. See you soon.”
Jack Markham let his thoughts roam. Driving to the O’Brien place to have his meeting with Angie, a nice senior who’d given him a lot of work over the last few years, he felt better than he had in months.
He appreciated the older woman’s business, but even more so her kindness. After all, if it hadn’t been for people like Angie, who knows where he might have ended up? Due to the unfortunate incident while on a mission in Iraq, his earlier years were a blur.
Healed completely now from the disaster in his early twenties, he knew one thing and would never forget it.
Though his body was solid again, strong and able to withstand the punishment it took from the physical work every day…
crawling, hauling, lifting, carrying… his mind still had to be focused.
And that’s where those earlier problems had localized… in his head.
Mind-numbing precious pills the military doc prescribed had made life livable. They’d taken away the pain from a messed-up body. They’d enabled him to exist on a sweet cloud of easy living.
Much later, when he’d recognized that he had a problem, he’d had a choice to make, and it wasn’t an easy decision.
Ashamed, he admitted to putting it off for far too long before he recognized the line.
That line of no return where you become so addicted you’ll take anything you can get when the prescribed pills are all gone.
Like most others in his position, he’d played the game.
Surely, I didn’t take them all. Did I lose some?
Maybe they didn’t fill the prescription right; must have shorted me.
But he’d known in his heart that like a piggy at the trough, he’d gobbled them up and didn’t care about the future. He’d lived for then and there.
Except, the day had come when he’d found an empty pill bottle and no refills. That’s the moment when he’d been forced to see himself clearly and decide his future once and for all.
Did he choose pain? Could he handle his recuperation on over-the-counter drugs, holistic remedies and physical therapy rather than the opioids they’d been prescribing?
Years later, he still winced when he remembered the days of agony he’d suffered, when tears had always been close and self-pity hovered like the devil’s temptation.
You don’t have to put up with this, man.
There’s other stuff you can use – heroin, cocaine.
Ralph downtown will get you anything you need.
His rehab had taken longer because he’d given up the heavy drugs, but in the end, he’d come away still able to walk, his back had healed and so had his broken leg and his crushed ribs.
What hadn’t healed, and never would, was the memory of the horrific hours at the bomb site when he’d waited for help to arrive, thinking he might never be found. And then, like an answer to his prayers, an older man showed up, waiting with him until the medics came.
He’d soothed him, making the pain bearable somehow. As old as he seemed, he’d lifted off the worst of the impact – the wall crushing him so he could hardly breathe. “It’s going to be alright, son. You’ll be fine now that I’ve found you.”
“I’m so thankful you’re here. Don’t leave me.”
“That I won’t be doing. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
“Your name, what’s your name?” Jack had to know – it seemed incredibly important that he have his helper’s name.
“It’s Lucas. And I’ll always be here for you, Jackie my boy. Remember this, the doctors will put you back like new, see if they don’t. You’re a strong lad. And when the time comes, you’ll choose a fine life.”
Why he still remembered those words, Jack never did figure it out, but he knew one thing.
Those words spoken in that soft, male voice came back to him time and again when life was at its worst, when the blackness wanted to suck him under, and he clung with barely a string of strength to his resolve.
Why he couldn’t see the older man’s face bothered him. But without a doubt, he knew Lucas was older. He’d never forget his voice, the words that reverberated, giving him the will to do what he knew was right.
After he came out of the hospital and strived to get a clean bill of health from the therapy clinic where they’d gotten him back on his feet, helping him build his muscles so he’d be able to live a normal existence, he’d looked for the old fellow.
Had asked about Lucas at Army headquarters and had searched out the medics who’d arrived that night, but no one remembered anyone with him at the scene. In fact, they’d looked at him strangely, knowing the soldiers anywhere in the vicinity were much younger than the older man he described.
To this day, he still searched. He wanted to shake the old man’s hand and thank him. To try and explain the importance of his words at the worst moment in his life, what they’d meant even later when the temptations had eaten away his willpower.
Hopefully, one day…
Arriving at his destination, Jack pulled into the sweeping circular driveway towards the sprawling white Mediterranean masterpiece. Angie’s property featured a fountain nestled under large palm trees; the incredible masonry formed into three levels was some of Jack’s finest work.
The red tiles over the many roof stages were another of his prideful accomplishments that made this custom home eye-catching, warmly inviting, and Angie’s pride and joy.
In fact, those two jobs were the first of many he’d taken on for Angie when he’d gotten a clean bill of health and could move on with his carpentry career.
Building stuff had been his dream from the time he was a lad.
Not just the ordinary work but finishing and specialty projects that he found interesting.
He pulled up and saw a sight that ripped out his heart. Rather than Angie waiting for him on the steps as usual, she lay at the bottom in a heap.
He dove from the vehicle, palmed his phone, yelling instructions for an ambulance and rushed to her side.
“Angie, what happened?” Shattered, he felt the fear wash through his system.
Closer now, he could see that she wasn’t conscious.
He reached for the pulse in her neck to see if she still lived and found it weak and barely there.
He ran up on the veranda and grabbed the fuzzy blanket she kept folded on the back of her chair.
There waiting, sat her tray with his requested drink still frosty cold, tea for her and some homemade cookies she baked that were his favorites.
Returning to her side, he slid in and carefully arranged the cover over her body to keep her warm.
Her hand lay close to his knee, and he picked it up, placed a kiss on the knuckles and whispered, “Come on old girl, you’re too ornery to let a little fall on the stairs keep you down.
” Praying it was a fall and not a stroke or a heart attack, he smoothed the curls from her forehead and gazed at her with all the affection he felt in his heart for his precious friend.
She’d come through for him from the beginning.
She’d known he needed to be occupied, kept busy so the need for drugs wouldn’t get control.
They’d met at the hospital where she’d been a patient recovering from a knee replacement, and he’d teased her about her crutches and had given her rides in his wheelchair.
They’d become chums, and she’d followed through with many promised jobs. By bragging to her friends, she’d been the impetus for him to start a small construction business that now employed over a dozen workers.
But any work that needed doing on her house was always done by the boss himself. She was his surrogate mom, his close pal and his angel. He’d do anything for her. Right now he was praying but the words didn’t come easy.
Last time he’d called on the big guy above for help, he’d been sent the old man, Lucas. He could almost hear that same voice in his head telling him to calm down and stay close. She might not be awake, but she heard every word… so keep talking.
Maybe she could hear him. He didn’t know but waiting was driving him nuts, and so he began to talk.
“Awww, Angie, my darlin’. You can’t end it now.
Stay with me. I need you in my life, my friend.
You and me, we’re pals. You’re the only one who can beat me in chess.
You’re sneaky and devious, and I’m pretty sure you cheat, but you’ve taught me so much.
What’ll I do without your special jobs to keep me gainfully employed, as you like to say so often? ”
The words he’d used resonated. “Christ, don’t leave me.” His voice broke. To his consternation, he found tears were threatening. The world without his Angie would be a lonely place for sure.
“I don’t cheat,” Angie coughed and moaned slightly before continuing. “And you’re a brat to infer such a terrible thing.”
“Angie! Lord, you’ve scared ten years off my life. What happened?” Jack again brushed the hair from her cheeks and knelt closer. Her voice was hard to hear.
“I don’t know. I was going to come down the stairs, and that’s the last thing I remember.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Don’t move. I can hear the ambulance now.”
“I can’t move, Jack.”
“Darlin’ don’t fuss about it now. They’ll help you at the hospital.”
“Pffft. I can’t move because you’re in my way.”