Jole's Story

By
More by this author
To the world Jole seemed like an average person, he was anything but. Sure he put on the happy mask at school, Jole was sure everybody did. Now he was second guessing himself as he passed through the town cemetery. Jole came here often to visit his mother. Some stupid drunk @#$*&^# had taken her away from him. Though she wasn’t completely gone, some people say Jole would look just like her, if he was a girl.

His shiny blue eyes that reflected the moon, covered by shaggy dull black hair that needed trimming. He is a man though and he has the abs and biceps to prove it. Thanks to his father he had easily grown taller than basically everybody in his 9th grade class. They were not bad; he had a close knit group of friends for hanging out with. But nobody knew, truly, how deadly the thoughts in his head were.

Jole stopped for a moment at his mother’s grave. Looking down sadly at the grave stone that marked the place her body eternally slept.

“I hope you are happy up there Ma’.” Jole said somberly. Before continuing his journey home he checked to see what time it was by looking at the sun. It was right before the sun changed all the clouds to ridiculous colors. Jole had some time before dark and he liked to be home after it got dark. That was the time the house was quietest. Not as much screaming going on between the parents.

Jole’s father had remarried about 2 years after the death of his wife. Jole still thought that was too soon. Though at first it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Jole could tell she made his father happy and she was nice to him as well. The problem started when she brought her own kids into the house. She was never cut out to be a mother. It is an odd story between her and her baby daddy. They never got married so they didn’t need to go through the messy divorce. Her kids wanted to live with their dad and that was it. Until he was introduced to inhalants and the state found out he was uncontrollably addicted.

After a few years of happy marriage, they came in and messed it up. Jole knew he shouldn’t blame them, but they would never listen to anything their new father would tell them. They would run to mommy and she would stick up for them. Her classic responses where
“Oh it is just a phase, nothing to worry about. It will pass.” or “What is one insert object here going to do to them?”

Sadly all these, one little things, tore Jole’s family apart.


About a half hour after the sun had set, Jole started home again. After his short walk home he arrived at the one place he could not escape. That was his biggest wish, to find someplace where he could escape. Jole had thought about escaping to be with him Ma’ forever, but Jole just couldn’t do that to his father.

As Jole opened the front door the volume of the yelling surprised him. How could it be so quiet outside and so loud a few feet in? Jole had stopped listening a while ago to what was really said. On his way to his room Jole literally ran into his father.

“OH sorry Dad, was just on my way-” He cut short when Jole awe the half empty bottle of rum in his father’s hand.
“Where have you been son?” As he half collapses half hugged his son.
“Just went to see Ma’. Holding down the fort here Dad?” Jole said as he regained his balance. At least tonight his father was a happy drunk, unlike the usual depressed drunk.
“Awh, your mother was quite the unusual person. What she could do with her body-”
“Dad I do not want to hear that!”
“True, true I am sorry. Did I ever tell you the first time I meet your mother?” He said as they went to the couch in the next room.
“Yes, but tell me again Dad.” Jole loved this story, he thought it was movie worthy.
“Well my buddies and I went to the local…what do you kids call it these days…strip club. Oh it was a blast; Your mother was the first and only lady I saw that night. We-”
“Dad what are you talking about! Ma’ was not a stripper!”
“OH don’t be naïve your old enough to hear this. Man, the fun we had that night. If I remember correct, that was the night you were made.” Jole’s father laughed and took another sip of rum.
“You are drunk, and you don’t know what you’re saying. Ma’ was not a stripper and I was not the result of a one night stand!” Jole was furious! He couldn’t believe his father. Jole was told that they had the perfect movie meeting and it blossomed into true love. But he just kept on talking seeming oblivious to his sons rage.
“Come to think of it, if she didn’t get pregnant that night, I may have never seen her again.” Then suddenly, as a drunk would, Jole’s father burst into tears!
“Now I will never see her again! And….and… It is all your fault!” He stood up and started waving his hand around, spilling the alcoholic drink on the carpet.
“Dad what are you talking about, lets get you to bed.” Jole had to get out of here, he couldn’t believe what he was saying. Any more of it and Jole knew he would snap. Trying to get hold of his father, he just fell back down on the couch and then his father went crazy.
“Why did your mother have to get pregnant with you!? If you weren’t here, then I wouldn’t have lost. And I could be in some place better and never been put through this h*** I am living. Come to think of it, kids seem to ruin everything. If it weren’t for Her kids, this house may actually be quite. Can you even understand what it is like-” He was off on a rant now. Waving his hands everywhere and almost falling over every sentence. Jole had had enough, but when he tried to get away, his father grabbed him and threw him down back on the couch so harshly that Jole almost hit his head on the top of the couch. Jole just knew tomorrow he would have to find some way to explain the new bruises.
“You pay attention when I am talking to you!” His father was full out, p*ssed off, drunk now. He was so loud that Jole’s step mom and her kids came into the room to see what was happening. And still Jole’s father just kept on ranting, basically screaming now.
“As I was saying…” He looked confused for a moment before continuing. “If you won’t believe the truth that is your problem. Accept that fact that your mother was a fine, as you put it, stripper and she made a lot of money that way. You should be grateful, she quit her job because of you. And now she is gone. I will never see her again. And you’re an everyday, painful reminder of what I have lost.” Suddenly, Jole’s father just collapsed on the ground and started heavily crying. Seeming to suddenly be unfrozen by what she just saw, Jole’s step mom rushed to the side of her poor, drunken husband.
Jole was heartbroken. Everything he once held dear about his father had just shattered. He quickly stood up and said,” You drunk @#$*&^#,” While looking down at the sad lump of his father on the floor. As everybody else gasped at what he had just said, Jole sprinted up to his room and gave the door a good slam.
How could his father say that to him? Jole had seen him drunk before and it has never been that bad. Jole didn’t care anymore. If his father wanted him to be gone, then he could have it his way. Jole opened his closet and grabbed out his most prized possession. It was his mothers scarf. The velvet blue felt good in his hands. The scarf had always helped him in times of need, when he missed his mother most. Jole could almost recall the smell of her on this sacred piece of clothing. Jole gave the scarf a nice tug with a satisfied look on his face.

Jole’s bedroom was an ordinary room, nothing spectacular about it. A bed, nightstand, desk, drawer and a chair was all that he had to hold his stuff. He had a few posters on the walls and some decorations hanging from the ceiling.

Jole jumped up on to his bed and carefully took down the model airplane that hung above him. Jole carefully tired a strong loop knot in the middle of the scarf. Jole put the loop around his head, hands shaking.
“If he really doesn’t want me here, then I will go be with Ma’… forever.” Jole said softly to himself as he tightened the loop to fit snugly around his neck. The soft velvet felt welcoming against his sweaty neck. With the other end tied securely around his wrist Jole started to softly cry. He stood there, scarf tied around his neck and wrist, standing up on his bed. For once the house was quiet.
Jole imagined his mother in front of him. What would she think of him right now? Suddenly Jole remembered something his mother said when his father. ‘Remember my sweetheart, love is our savior.’ After thinking for a moment, Jole stretched to put the scarf on the hook. After a deep breath Jole said more confidently,
“Come save me Ma’.” Jole went limp. He couldn’t get a firm hold on the bed any longer, but that is what he wanted. At first Jole struggled to fight his survival instincts to stay relaxed. Then the world slowly grew numb and started turning black. Right before Jole passed out, he could see his mother, reaching for him. “I am coming Ma’.” Then the world blacked out. Jole was now just hanging above his bed with his mothers scarf around his neck. The room was silence, almost a peaceful silence. In the silence of the room, something stirred, then again and again. The scarf was ripping, thread by thread until it could no longer hold up Jole’s dead weight.
Jole’s body crashed off the bed and rolled onto the floor. On the way down, Jole’s head slammed on the nightstand before it slammed on the ground. In the silent house that sounded like an anvil hit the floor. Downstairs with Jole’s father calmed down and a bit more sober heard this noise and instantly everybody was running up the stairs. Jole’s step sister was the first to see him, and she screamed. Everybody else’s reaction was similar. They had opened the door to Jole in a heap on the floor with blood seeping out his head.
After a moment to get back in their heads, Jole’s father picked up his limp son and started down the stairs.
“Where are you taking him sweetie?” Her voice was full of concern for her step son and tipsy husband.
“To the ER, I am not losing my son tonight. Get the keys and lets go!” The rest of the family got in the car behind him and they speed of to the hospital.
***

Jole started hearing faint voices. One voice was feminine, could that be his long lost mother? Jole started putting all his concentration to hearing who the voice belonged to. To his surprise, his head hurt like none other when he tried. The pain woke him up a bit more and could tell the voices where strangers. Was this some orientation to heaven? Or had he gone the other way?
Then Jole heard a familiar voice, “Jole! Jole? His eyes are moving, is that good?” To his surprise it was the sound of his father. Finally Jole was able to open his eyes, after a moment to focus he discovered himself in hospital room.
“Jole! Oh my God you’re alive!” Jole then got a big, but careful hug from his father, apparently sober now.
“Dad? Dad.” Jole said confused as he got a face full of his father’s shoulder. Then Jole got the look on his father’s face as he pulled away from the hug. His face was full of relief, regret and love. At that moment Jole understood what his mother had meant by, love is our savior. Before Jole didn’t think his father would care whether he lived or not, but now, Jole could see he was very wrong. Now he could see that he was his father’s world and couldn’t believe what he must have put his father through. A lot was said between that look. Jole’s father saw understanding, regret and forgiveness in his sons eyes. He couldn’t help to hug him one more time and whisper in his ear.
“I love you Jole. Welcome home.”
“I love you too Dad.”






Fin





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback