3 - Jacob
Jacob
Whisky and I used to be best friends until I realized it was a faker. It pretended to calm and comfort me but secretly wanted me miserable and dead.
Cutting it out of my life was a “one step forward, two steps back to swallowing straight from the bottle” kind of process. Eventually, I put distance between us. After I march into the house, I’m tempted to give my old buddy a call.
I clench my hands, my keys digging into my right palm. No. I clawed my way onto this wagon and I’m staying put. I won’t let Alyssa and Penelope drag me down to hell like last time.
How did they find me?
For the past few years, I’ve been renting instead of owning property so that someone else’s name protects mine. Nobody in this town knows who I am—or used to be. Jacob Shaw is a common name, I keep to myself, and the townspeople’s interests hardly go beyond the county’s borders.
Elizabeth crosses my mind. I missed her call a few weeks ago and forgot to return it. My sister would never give Alyssa my address. She hates her as much as I do, if not more.
I take out my phone and call Elizabeth because this warrants more than a text. Her assistant answers in a harried tone. Voices chatter in the background, and the loudest is some guy yelling to “bring the MicroFogger.” Elizabeth must be on set.
“It’s Jake. Tell Liz to call me back when she’s free.”
I end the call and sit on the bench by the door to unlace my boots. How Alyssa and Penelope found me is important, but I have to focus on my next move.
What do you do when the enemy learns your precise location?
You haul ass somewhere else.
The thought of leaving pisses me off more than Penelope’s unexpected visit.
Ten months ago, I came to Wenora, and it was beginning to feel like home. For once, I felt settled. Every day I inhaled the good air, I exhaled some of the bitterness I’ve been carrying for years. I would’ve been light and free given enough time.
Shoes off, jacket hung, I head to the bedroom to change into workout clothes. It’ll be dark soon. The weather is about to get worse, but a run always helps me decompress after work. I need that now more than ever.
I need your help.
Penelope’s voice replays in my head while I’m doing warm-up stretches on the porch. Guilt stabs me when I remember the hurt in her eyes. Yeah, I was a dick for chasing her away like that, but I don’t regret it. I’ll make the same damn choice if I had a do-over.
“Fuck her for thinking she could waltz up here and con me with a fake sob story. Fuck her for thinking I would offer up my other cheek after she gouged the first one.”
The wind howls in response.
I set off for my run, leaving thoughts of Penelope and the past behind, focusing on my breathing and surroundings instead. Time disappears. My brain falls into the familiar, comforting calmness despite the rising burn in my legs.
It’s starting to snow when I return home. My heart is pounding and my limbs are tingling. Then my satisfaction from a good workout fades. A woman in a long, padded black jacket is on my porch. Her hood is up, strands of her reddish-brown hair visible. She wrings her hands as I approach.
Fuck me.
Another visitor?
Today must be my lucky day.
I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around the house at the bottom of the hill when I drive by. Sometimes she’s on the porch wall reading a book, or she’s doing yard work, or she’s hanging out with friends.
She steps down from the top porch step. Now that she’s closer, I realize she’s younger than I thought. She couldn’t be older than twenty.
“My stepdad is lying on the ground outside. Can you help me bring his drunk ass into the house so he doesn’t freeze to death?”
Her expression is sullen as if she would rather let her stepdad turn into a block of ice. I would also prefer to get inside and take a shower.
She hiked up the steep hill while it’s snowing. I can’t let her effort go to waste. She might get caught in the storm searching for help elsewhere.
“Sure.”
“Oh, thank god.” She descends the rest of the steps. “I’m Ruth, by the way. What’s your name?”
I turn, walking alongside her.
“Jacob.”
“Thanks for helping me, Jacob.”
How ironic.
You’ll help someone else’s stepdaughter but not yours.
White cloud cover lights the way well enough as Ruth and I head down the hill. The snowfall becomes heavier, the wind shoving and pulling at us from every direction.
Ruth’s home is a red brick house with a small square of front lawn. Snow blankets the roof. The flower bushes around the porch are bundles of pointy sticks.
A dirty, red pick-up truck is parked on a severe angle across the driveway. More than half of it sits on the lawn, its front bumper almost touching the lone pine tree. A heavyset man in a black and brown plaid jacket is sprawled on the ground beside the truck.
He’s snoring as if he’s in his warm bed instead of lying on the cold, hard ground. An acrid smell wafts from him in the breeze.
Ruth curls her upper lip. “He pissed himself. He always does when he gets this drunk.”
The disgust on her face makes me feel bad for the guy. This is painfully familiar. I’d dive into the bottle looking for an escape from how awful I felt, only to wind up losing my dignity and becoming a burden to Elizabeth on a few occasions.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Wayne.”
I squat and slap Wayne’s cheek a couple of times.
“Come on, Wayne. Time to get up.”
Wayne slurs something unintelligible then rolls over onto his side. Tossing cold water on him is probably the only thing that would jolt him out of his drunken sleep.
“We’re going to have to carry him inside. I’ll lift him under his arms, you grab his feet.”
Ruth nods with grim determination. Together, we heave and carry Wayne up the driveway. His dead weight is like a boulder. I almost slip going up backwards on the slush-covered porch steps. Ruth showed up before I did the strength-training portion of my workout. This partially makes up for it.
“Just dump him here,” Ruth says once we’re past the front door’s threshold.
We set Wayne down on the wide mat. Ruth faces me with a grateful look.
“Thanks again. Mom’s at work, and the next closest house is ten minutes away. You were my only hope.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
She scowls down at Wayne still passed out on the mat. The stench of alcohol and urine is unbearable now that we’re inside.
“I almost left him out there. He’s lucky I have a conscience and don’t want to make Mom sad. She loves him for some reason.”
As someone who’s walked in Wayne’s shoes, I could probably offer some advice. I don’t know much about him or their family though. Nothing seems safe to say aside from empty and potentially false platitudes like, He’ll come around someday.
I don’t want to get involved in other people’s drama either. I’ve had enough of my own to last a lifetime. I turn to the door and step over Wayne, eager to be done with my neighbourly duty.
She gives me a hopeful look. “Do you want a cup of tea or hot cocoa?”
I shake my head. “I should head back before the storm gets worse. Have a good night.”
Snow and the wind assault me all the way up the hill. I finish my workout when I’m home. After a shower, I make dinner and sit down at the kitchen table with my laptop.
Scrolling through rentals in other remote towns doesn’t last long. Even if I hired a real estate agent, I don’t have the energy or the will to uproot my life again. The unfairness of it all angers me too.
“They screwed me over once. Now they’re doing it again.”
If only a voice had whispered to run away when I met Alyssa at that charity event twelve years ago. Then again, my warning sign was my mother saying, “She reminds me of myself.”
I abandon my laptop for a video game in the living room. My irritation disappears as I eliminate enemy targets in a first-person-shooter. Penelope crosses my mind when I glance outside.
The storm is in full swing. Everything is white, snow pelts at the rattling windows, the wind an angry howl. I wouldn’t want to drive in that.
Did she get caught in the storm, or did she stay in town for the night?
I ignore the twinge of concern and return my attention to the game. She’ll be fine wherever she is, wherever she goes. Devious people are like scorpions and those things are resilient.