A Lasting Storm: Chapter 6

The mind sometimes tricks people suffering from stress, sleep deprivation, heartache, and pain. Too many curveballs can cause any or all of those things to happen to someone. In this case, Jim was in the throws of each, the only problem being that he didn’t know how to deal with them. Partly because he didn’t feel he had the time.

As miserable as Jim’s life was, there were far too many obstacles getting in the way of selfish endeavors like feeling sorry for himself. He felt sorry for himself but didn’t have the time to allow himself to stop, to think, or to do anything about it. Between working two gigs and finding time to be a father, Jim needed to hold it together.

At night was the worst. When he had nothing to keep himself busy, there was only the darkness. The darkness l was slowly consuming him, taking him to places he fought for so long. Some of Jim’s urges were growing. Thoughts born of anger, pain, and a primitive instinct for revenge were swallowing him whole.

Days into January, as the darkness was longer than the daytime, Jim was in the depths of his hell. His plans conflicted with the things he wanted to do, with Sonny’s need for at least one parent to be present in his life. Jim remembered growing up as a young boy, not having a father. He didn’t want to put his son through the same.

While he still loved Jayla, after all she’d done, Jim felt the need to exact revenge on the harlot who robbed him of his life. After sitting with the revelation about what she had done for months, he finally accepted how evil and depraved a person must be to do such a thing. They’d been friends for such a long time. That level of betrayal, of maniacal manipulation, deserved to be paid back in spades.

It wasn’t what Jim wanted, not anymore. He’d forsaken that part of him. Jim walked away from that part of his life. The conflict in him, birthed from all the emotional torture Jim suffered, was a daily struggle.

Sitting in bed, staring at the wall, Jim had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a burning cigarette in the other. In his misery, he listened to old music to calm his nerves. Music and the bottle worked to help him sleep just a few hours a night. He had to silence the quiet around him and numb the screams inside.

It was a little after two in the morning when he finally rested his head. Dimming the lights, Jim felt himself starting to drift off in the world spin of half a bottle of Jack. He closed his eyes, and his voice played in his head. Jim was begging god to make him forget the pain inside.

As he started to lose consciousness, a ringing sound from his nightstand woke him. His phone rang and rang until he reached his hand up, reaching over the semi-automatic pistol and lifting the receiver. Putting it to his ear, he answered.

“McAlister.”

Jim was shocked when he heard the voice on the other end of the call. It had been nearly three months. But this was a voice he could never forget.

“Why are you calling?” he asked Jayla.

“I ran into Francois. I didn’t know you fixed him and Yevette up,” she said.

“That’s what you’re calling about, at two in the morning? Seriously?”

“Jim,” said Jayla. “How’s my son?”

“All things considered, he’s fine,” answered Jim. “Are you drunk? Get to the point, please?”

“I wanted to ask you if we could talk,” she hesitantly admitted. “I know you’re off tomorrow, and I thought, I mean, I would like to see Sonny and then maybe…”

“We can talk at the divorce hearing,” grumbled Jim.

Jayla sobbed. She knew she didn’t deserve any consideration. She hesitated but finally replied.

“Jim, I never filed. I haven’t even seen a lawyer,” she admitted.

Why? Why would she not see a lawyer and get the papers filed if she wanted a divorce? Jim wondered what the hell she was doing. He was stuck with a curiosity he couldn’t curtail.

“I don’t know what we could possibly have to talk about,” sighed Jim, fighting the urge to say yes.

“Fine,” Jayla ughed. “Could I please see Sonny? I haven’t acted like it, but I do miss him.

In a perfect world, a child has two parents who love, provide for, and protect them. He knew he couldn’t stand in the way of that. Jim agreed to let Jayla come by the house.

Later that night, the world took on a different appearance. Jim watched as his wife and son played, letting them have that time to bond. When it was time to put Sonny down for the night, Jayla watched Jim read the boy a story and tuck him into his bed. Before Jim could turn around, she disappeared through the hall and down the stairs.

When Jim came down a little while later, Jayla was sitting in the darkness of the living room.

“You could have turned a light on,” he told her as he flipped a switch.

Jim was surprised to see her sitting there with tears streaking down her cheeks. He didn’t know what to say. Worse, Jim didn’t know if he should say anything or not. Jim felt compelled to ask her if she was alright, but he stood there frozen by confusion.

“What the hell?” asked Jim, talking to himself as much as he was her.

Jayla wiped her eyes and apologized. She knew the future she robbed her son of, one with two parents. She sat there rambling. Jayla rattled on about how her parents were never happy, always so hard to live with, and alcoholics. Jayla talked about how scared the idea it could have been different leaves her.

“I’m sure that explains why you’ve done the things you have done,” sighed Jim.

“No,” she told him. “It doesn’t. I could have had a good thing. Now I’ve fucked it up.”

“What do you want from me?” Jim grumbled. “What else could you possibly want?”

Jayla got up and walked over to Jim, staring up at him. He stared into his eyes, putting a hand on his chest. She looked so sad and miserable that Jim felt sympathy for the girl. Jim knew as he looked down at her there wasn’t a person in the world that would understand, but he put his arm around her and hugged her deeply.

The next day, Jim went to work distracted. He had a smile for the first time in months. It wasn’t hard for people to notice he was in a better mood.

Jim wanted to believe in Jayla, especially after the way she kissed him. I’m so sorry. I was so mean and don’t deserve it from you, but can you ever forgive me, she asked.

For at least a night, Jayla was her old self. She was loving, tender, and sweet. The two spent the night together, and she admitted how good a job Jim was doing raising their son. While Jim hadn’t slept, it was nice to see his son getting to spend the day with his mother.

“So,” asked Steve, “What got into you? Or should I ask, who did you get into?”

Jim chuckled. He wasn’t much on locker room-style chatter shared by men, but Steve wasn’t wrong. After everything she’d done, could he admit it was Jayla?

“I can’t go into details…” he stopped as Steve put his hand up.

“You did something stupid, didn’t you?”

“I hope not.”

Steve warned him that voluntarily getting back together with Jayla was something only he could decide on, but to tread carefully. He’d gotten to know more about the woman, and she was scandalously sowing her wild side the past few months. Steve knew about a couple of the incursions that Jim had gotten into and didn’t want to see him throw away his plans if he hurt some dumbshit boyfriend of hers.

“I get it,” Jim said. “And thanks for not being too judgmental. But, for Sonny’s sake, I’ve got to at least see what’s possible.”

“Good luck, my friend. I fear you’ll need it.”

And for a while, the kids seemed happy. Jayla was watching their boy while Jim was at work. He’d gone back to school and was working on his degree, and she kept Sonny occupied so he could study easier. Then the two of them would cuddle on the couch, sometimes ending up in bed together.

In the mornings Jim would go off to his day. Jayla would drop Sonny off if she had to work, or would spend the day at the house. She’d admitted that had she not had misgivings about their life, she would have loved having such a good-sized home to watch Sonny grow up in. Part of Jim hoped that would be possible, someday.

Right before Jim’s birthday, he was coming back into town from a class when his engine started spitting and sputtering. It took him by surprise, and he started screaming not to die on the highway. When Jim got the car pulled off to the side of the road, he was in front of an old buffet restaurant and steakhouse.

Jim walked in to use the payphone. As he started to dial, one of the waitresses approached him from behind. He knew her, but not well, and didn’t know why she was talking about him so proudly.

“I’m proud of you Jimmy boy,” she said. “I didn’t think you had it in you. I honestly figured that you’d have killed him by now.”

Perplexed, Jim hung up the phone. He turned to Rena and listened to her ramble on how much she knew he loved Jayla and how she thought he would have been a dead man for crossing such a line.

“Rena, what are talking about?”

Rena stopped, suddenly realizing that she’d spilled the beans about something she shouldn’t have. She looked at Jim, a sorrowful look in her eyes. Rena put a hand on his shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I thought you knew,” she sighed.

“Knew what?” Jim demanded. “What did I know.”

Rena answered hesitantly, “About Francois and Jayla. Theyve been sleeping together for four months.”

Jim stood there, frozen in time. He struggled to grasp what Rena had shared. When he finally grasped the reality of the situation, he felt his blood boiling.

“I’ve got to make some calls,” he told her.

Jim picked up the phone and dialed. He waited until there was an answer.

“Hey, I’m broke down coming into town on 58 infront of the stakehouse. Can you come pick me up?”

Jim hung the phone up, and Rena was still standing there. She hugged Jim and apologized. She saw the look in his eyes. She’d been around the group enough she’d seen it before.

“What are you going to do? You locked the old Jim away, and you’re better off. Please tell me you’re not going to let him out,” she insisted.

“Nope, I’m just going to go talk to an old friend…” he said walking out the door.

When Jayla picked him up he was quiet. She asked him if he was alright and he played it off, telling her he was just aggravated the car broke down. He commented about having to call a tow and how he’d have to hitch a ride to work tomorrow.

Jim told Jayla they were dropping Sonny off for a night at his parents. They needed some time to themselves. After dropping off their son and going back to Jim’s, he sat across from her.

“Why are you really here?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Fine, let me ask it a different way. Do you really have such little respect for me that you had to destroy my relationship with my best friend?”

Jayla’s eyes turned to the floor. She sat, not answering his question, which aggravated Jim even more. He stood up, held out his hand, and said two words.

“Your keys.”

“No, I’m not…” she started as Jim put a finger to her lips.

“No, you’re going to give them to me,” he told her.

Jayla relented. She’d never seen that look in his eyes. Handing the keys to Jim, she cursed herself. As he walked toward the front door, he asked her again.

“Why have you been here the past few weeks? The truth,” he insisted.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Jim turned, staring holes through her, “Why did you crawl back into my bed, act like you were sorry? To manipulate me? Your my son’s mother, no matter what you’ve done. I wouldn’t have left you on the street.”

Jim walked out of the house blinded by emotion and filled with rage. He knew exactly where Francois was, and he wanted to share his pain with someone who deserved a dose.

Twenty minutes later, Jim walked into a popular Irish pub. He found Francious and Yvonne. When he approached, Sonny got up and hugged him.

“Man, you’re out and about. Have a seat. Join us,” Francois invited.

“Later, we need to have a word.”

“Sure, buddy. What’s up?” asked Francois.

Jim wanted to drag him out kicking and screaming, but it would serve no purpose. He leaned in and whispered in his ear. His words struck a nerve with Francois, who agreed that maybe they should talk outside.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he told Yvonne.

The two exited the establishment and walked around to a back alley parking area. When they got there, Francois crossed his arms and waited.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” asked Jim.

“What’s this about?”

Jim wrapped his hand around Fracois's throat and pushed him into the bricks behind him. He squeezed tightly, wanting to feel the last gasp of breath that his friend would ever feel. As Jim lost focus, his free hand moved behind him to his gun.

“It’s about how you could betray me that way. You were my brother! How could you!” Jim yelled.

Francois heard the hammer of the .357 cocking behind Jim as he put his hands together, and started to repeatedly say, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry! We were working things out. We could have had a second chance. And you’ve been banging her this whole time!”

Francois got down on his knees with his hands together and shocked Jim. He looked at Jim and told him that he loved him too.

“Do it…” Francois urged him, now sobbing. “I deserve it. I know what you came here to do. I forgive you.”

At that moment, amid all that rage, he knew what he was going to do as he stood there with the gun in his hand. He put it to Francois's head, his hands shaking. Francois looked up at him again, saying he understood.

“Just do it. I was weak. I know what you have to do,” he cried.

Jim looked at him, and through tear-filled eyes, uttered just three words.

“You’re already dead,” sighed Jim, his gun hand lowering as he turned away his best friend.