chapter THREE
Jake jolted awake up at the sound of the knock on his door. He winced as the sudden movement reignited the pain in his side. His face felt painful, tight and swollen, but also very wet. The ice in his icepack had melted, soaking the towel and draining onto his pillow. He sat up as the knock came again, grasping his side.
"Jake, are you alright?" His mother's voice came through the door. "Dinner is almost ready." He heard the doorknob start to turn.
"I'm fine, Mom." Jake said quickly. "Stay out. I'm not dressed. I'll be out in a couple of minutes."
"Ok. Food will on the table in five minutes." He heard his mother move away.
Jake stood up slowly and glanced down at his ribs. He could see the purple and yellow bruising where he had been hit. He brought up his hand and tentatively felt along his ribcage. His ribs were tender, but he did not think any were broken.
He walked over to his dresser, dropping his towel and grabbed his clothes. He felt like an old man as he struggled to dress without generating more pain. He dressed in his sweatpants, a t-shirt and his hooded sweatshirt. He grabbed some socks and went back to sit on the bed to put them on, along with his tennis shoes that were on the floor next to the bed. Bending over to get his socks and shoes on caused his head to throb. Finally finished, he straightened slowly and paused for a moment, trying to think of what he should say.
He debated creating a false story; maybe he could try and pass it off as if he fell off his bike or had some clumsy accident while messing around. His mind raced with the idea, thinking he could avoid the sure-to-be high drama with his folks. Unfortunately, the fact that Mr. Madison knew what had happened foreclosed that possibility. As much as he expected the next hour or so to be uncomfortable, he knew that telling the truth now would be better than his parents catching him in a lie later. Through the pain in his head, he tried to anticipate what his parents would say and figure out what he should say to minimize dragging this out.
While his parents were generally understanding about things, he knew that his mother Cheryl's reaction would be the one that would determine what came next. She was definitely the more protective and emotional of the two. She had stayed home when he and his siblings were young and now only worked part-time so she could be available for the after-school activities. She was very demonstrative in showing affection; she was always hugging, touching or kissing her children. She tended to make a big deal over minor injuries, so Jake knew she would probably lose her mind over this. Realizing that this was probably going to be a big emotional scene with his mother, Jake hoped that his father would act as a calming element.
His father, Dan, tended to be the opposite of his mother in temperament. No matter the situation, he generally stayed calm and spoke quietly and evenly. Jake could only remember a couple of times where he heard his father raise his voice at him, his brother or sister. While he did not physically show his affection often, he was usually full of praise and support for his children. This carried over into the other areas of his life. He ran a small software development company in town and was well-liked by his employees for his calm and warm personality.
Figuring that he should probably get this over with, Jake took a deep breath, stood and opened his door slowly. He could hear the sounds of his family talking in the kitchen area, but no one was in the hallway. He made his way to the bathroom and went in. When he got to the mirror, he knew that the small hope he had was gone; he would not be able to hide this from his parents. His left eye was swollen, a dark purple that spread down into his cheek. His lip had also become swollen with a large clump of dried blood crusting the area where it was split.
As he stood staring at the damage to his face, he felt both anger and frustration rise up in him. By tomorrow, everyone at school would know that he had let Donald get the best of him. He imagined several different ways he could turn this to his advantage or get back at Donald, but he knew that they were unlikely to happen. He also wished he could skip school for a couple of days, but, knowing his dad, that was not going to happen. Realizing that he would have to go to school looking like a used piñata for all to see just made him angrier. Knowing that he had to calm down before he spoke with his parents, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to release his anger. He was not sure he succeeded; he was in a mood when he left the bathroom.
Steeling himself, he walked into the kitchen. His mother had her back to him, preparing a dish. His brother and sister were already sitting down, his father at the head of the table. His father's chair faced the kitchen, so he was the first to see Jake as he walked in. His only obvious reaction was that his eyes widened slightly at the sight.
"What happened, Jake?" His father asked calmly, standing up. "Did you fall off the roof or something?" Russ and Jane looked over and gasped.
His mother, hearing the question and the reaction, stopped what she was doing and turned to Jake. She gave a low cry and ran over to him, gently reaching out and holding his face. Her eyes were full of worry.
"What happened to you?" She said, her voice rising. "How did this happen? Are you ok? Dan, should we take him to the hospital?" Jake could tell that his mother was not going to take this well.
"Mom, I'm alright." Jake replied, trying to mimic his father and stay calm. "A guy and I just got into a disagreement after school, that's all."
"Who did this?" His mother asked fiercely, her fingers tightening on his face. Jake saw anger replace concern in her eyes.
"It doesn't matter, Mom. It's over." Jake said shortly, his own anger returning, responding to his mother's emotion.
"It is definitely not over, Jake!" His mother replied loudly. "You are not going anywhere until you tell me who did this to you!"
"Why? What are your going to do, call the cops?" He replied, voice rising. He jerked his head out of his mother's hands and stepped back, wincing at the pain the sudden movement. "Great, Mom; that's all I need! It is bad enough I got beat up; I'm not going to be that guy who has to hide behind his mom! Do you want me to have a reputation of being a freaking momma's boy?! Just leave it alone and butt the hell out!" His mother raised a hand to her mouth, stung by Jake's words. Jake, almost quivering with his anger, spun and stormed back to his room, slamming the door behind him.
He paced back and forth, his anger overcoming the pain from his injuries. He could feel the pressure of his emotions building in his chest; he needed to go outside and get some air. He grabbed his phone and earbuds and shoved them into his sweatshirt pocket. He spun around to leave when his door opened suddenly. His father stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
"Sit down, Jake." His father said firmly, face stern, eyes angry.
Seeing that his father was in no mood for debate, Jake quelled the sudden rebellious impulse that rose up. He went to his bed and sat down, emotions seething.
His father moved to the dresser across the room and leaned back against it, arms crossed across his chest. "I want you to tell me what happened, but I have a question first. When did you think it became acceptable to be disrespectful to your mother?"
"What?" Jake asked, suddenly confused. This was not the question he was expecting.
"You're a smart boy; you heard me. On what planet are you on that you thought I would ever allow you to be disrespectful to your mother?" His father replied, staring straight at Jake, face seemingly frozen in a look of anger and disapproval.
Jake, daunted by his father's mood, bit back his initial sharp reply, sure that the wrong answer or even the tone of his voice would just make this day get even worse. He slowly blew out his breath, willing himself to be calm and tried to speak softly and evenly.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm just so angry about what happened. I know I shouldn't have snapped at Mom, but she was treating me like a baby." Jake stated as quietly as possible, watching his father's reaction. His anger made him risk a bit more. "She has to learn that I'm not a child anymore. I don't need her to protect me."
His father stared at him silently for a few moments, then gave a short snort, his lips twitching slightly, and spoke. "Good luck with that." He moved over to the bed and sat down next to Jake. He put his arm around his son's shoulders. "Listen, Jake. I know that you have had a bad day, but your mother and I will always be concerned for you, Russ and Jane. We only want the best for you kids. I hope you know that. I'm sure when we are old and you are a man with a family of your own, your mom will still try to baby you. The sooner you realize that, the easier it will be."
"Yes, Dad." Jake said.
"Now, in spite of what you think of your mom's over-protectiveness, you had no right to take out your anger on her. Do you understand me?" His father finished in a tone that expected nothing other than an answer of yes.
"Yes, Dad." Jake replied again.
His father relaxed slightly. "Now, tell me what happened."
Jake told his father about the day's events, recounting everything that had occurred. When he recalled the confrontation at school, his father seemed surprised that Mike came to Jake's rescue.
"I'm glad to hear that Michael did that." His father always called him Michael. "I know he has had a tough time since his dad died. He has made some very bad choices in friends and behavior. Hopefully, he can get back on the right path." His father's voice seemed a bit sad. "Go on."
Jake continued with his encounter with Tina and the missed ride with Sean. He told him about his plan to avoid Donald on the way home, but that it ended with the fight outside the woods. He finished with how Mr. Madison stopped the fight and brought him home.
"I'm glad he showed up when he did. I'll have to go over and thank George for his help." His father paused for a second. "So this all started over a girl? This Sabrina?"
"It's not her fault." Jake said quickly and defensively. "Donald is just a prick, that's all. He is so..."
"I didn't say it was her fault, Jake." His father interrupted, giving Jake's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm more concerned about how this is going to end. Clearly, you and Donald are never going to be friends, but how do you see this playing out?"
"What do you mean?" Jake asked.
"You know what I mean. Are your mom and I going to have to worry about you every time you leave whether you are going to be fighting or worse? This can't continue, Jake." His father said firmly.
"Yeah, but if I just let it drop, everyone will think I'm afraid of him." Jake replied.
"So?" His father asked.
"So? So?!" Jake said incredulously. "Dad, be real. I don't want to be seen as a big coward that people can push around."
"Look, Jake." His father sighed. "I'm not asking you to be a coward or to allow others to pick on you. I just want you to think these things through. I want you to look at courage in a different way. I know that walking away from a fight can seem to be the hardest thing to do at your age, but as the saying goes, 'discretion is the better part of valor'. Look, I hope you are able to live your life without having to fight anyone, but if you have to fight, just be sure you are fighting for something more than just your pride."
"Dad, you don't understand..."
"Son, I understand." His father interrupted. "Don't you think that I sometimes feel the urge to rap someone upside their head? However, as you get older, you will realize that letting some things go is better for your health. It doesn't mean you are a coward."
"So, you are saying to never fight." Jake replied stubbornly.
"No, Jake. I'm asking that, if you have to, you should always fight for something important, not over silly stuff like what other people think." His father paused. "Look, I try to live and let live, but if someone tried to hurt your mom or you kids, I would do everything in my power to stop them, even if it meant having to kill them or it cost me my own life." He said, his voice turning harder as he spoke.
Jake, startled by the sudden passion in his father's voice, looked over at his face. He was surprised to see something in his father that he had never seen before: dangerousness. As his father imagined someone threatening his family, his body and face had tightened and his eyes were full of dark thoughts. Jake was taken aback and a bit awed by this side of his father. His father noticed his look and gave himself a little shake.
He smiled ruefully. "Well, hopefully, we'll never have to cross that line. You understand what I am trying to say here, Jake?" Jake nodded.
His father's expression turned serious. "Jake, I'm going to call Donald's father." He held up a hand when Jake began to protest. "No arguments. We'll discuss what happened and how to make sure it does not happen again. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Good." His father smiled again. "Let's talk about something else. Tell me about this girl you like so much."
Caught up in the closeness he felt with his father at the moment, Jake surprised himself by talking about his feelings for Sabrina. He had never really spoken of this to his parents.
"Well, Jake, I know you think your old man was born old, but believe it or not, I was your age once. One of the things I learned from that time was that it's exciting to have these feelings and desires for someone else, but you should be sure that the feeling is returned. Otherwise, you'll just drive yourself crazy for no good purpose. Trust me, I know." His father paused, a small smile on his face, eyes distant, accessing some memory. He shook his head slightly and looked his son in the face. "Do you know if Sabrina even feels the same way about you? She is dating Donald, after all."
"Well, I never really asked her." Jake replied, feeling a little sheepish. "She seems to like me."
"I know that you don't want to hear this, but 'like' is a long way from where you want this to be. You should be sure of her feelings before you commit so much effort in your pursuit. You may just miss other opportunities." His father paused. "What about this Tina? She clearly seems to like you as more than a friend. Honestly, she sounds like a kick in the pants to me."
"She's fun to be around, Dad, but she is not Sabrina. I mean, if you saw Sabrina, you would understand."
His father shook his head, bemused by that answer. "I guess you'll have to learn the hard way. Just remember that your old man warned you."
His father stood up and opened the door. He glanced back at Jake. "Don't forget. You owe your mother an apology. One last bit of fatherly advice: The quicker you do it, the better off you will be." His father headed back towards the kitchen.
Jake sat on the bed for a minute or so, thinking about what his father had said, feeling somewhat better, then got up and left his room. He entered the kitchen and saw that his father had sat back down at the table, his brother and sister both talking to him at once. His mother was still in the kitchen, spooning some extra potatoes into a bowl. She looked at Jake and gave him a warm smile. Seeing that as he approached her, Jake felt guilty for having shouted at her.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Mom." Jake said quietly. "I've had a pretty crappy day."
His mother reached out and pulled him into a fierce hug. His sore ribs protested against the pressure of her embrace. "That's ok, Jake. I love you and am just so worried for you." She released him, reached up and lightly touched his swollen eye. "Are you sure you are ok? That looks bad, honey."
"I'm fine, Mom. It looks worse that it feels." Jake lied.
"If you say so, Jake." She gave him another quick hug and turned back to the potatoes. "Why don't you go sit down and get something to eat."
"I'm not hungry, Mom. I just want to head outside and get some fresh air to clear my head."
His mother frowned at that, but said. "Ok, sweetheart, I'll make a plate for you. Don't be too long."
Jake headed out the back door, grateful for the cool night air. After all of the conflicting emotions he had just gone through, he felt the need for the solitude of the woods. He paused for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness and then began moving towards the woods.
The almost-full moon, in a cloudless sky, was bathing the ground in a faint silvery light, allowing Jake to see where he was going. As he reached the edge of the woods, the moonlight made the shadows under the trees in the woods seem even darker. Unconcerned, he headed in; having been in the woods many times, he was confident about his ability to navigate in the dark.
He made his way through the trees to the pond. The water seemed to sparkle as the moonlight reflected off the slight ripples that were pushed by the movement of the frogs and insects across its surface. At the edge of the pond, a large flat rock seemed to call to Jake. It had been placed there many years before, serving as convenient seat for enjoying the pond. It protruded into the pond a foot or so, so people could soak their feet without having to sit in the dirt.
Jake made his way to the rock and sat down. He pulled up his hood and laid back on the rock. He shifted a couple of times to take pressure off his ribs, finding a comfortable position. He rested his head back and gazed up at the stars. Once he had settled and stopped moving, the frogs around the pond resumed their calls that they had stopped at his approach. The noise they raised started to intrude into his thoughts, so he sat up and pulled out his phone and earbuds to start his music. He put the earbuds in and looked at his phone.
As he tapped the phone to wake it up, he saw that he had received several texts. Sighing, he opened his messages. The first one was from Matt. "Dude, someone posted on Facebook that you got jumped by the Donster. Let me know." The next was from Sean. "Matt told me that Donald found you. I thought you were ok?" The last one was from Tina. "Jake, I heard something about a fight. Call me."
Jake groaned, suddenly hating social media. This was going to be a nightmare when he went back to school. Everyone would know by tomorrow. He did not feel like replying right now, so he closed out the messages and went to his playlists. He selected his soft mix, wanting to relax. As the first song came on, he adjusted the volume and lay back down.
His thoughts drifted as he watched the stars slowly move across the sky overhead. He thought of Sabrina, then Tina, about what he would say to his friends, how to handle the scene at school. The rapid succession of thoughts and images slowed into a repetitive pattern of visions of Sabrina and Tina. Soon, even those thoughts faded and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Some instinct startled Jake awake. He felt a chill pass through his body and knew something was wrong. He sat up as quickly as his injured body allowed and pulled out his earbuds. He swiftly looked around, but only saw the shadowy outline of the trees and the moonlight dappling the ground through the breaks in the trees. Confused, he looked all around the clearing again, this time with deliberate purpose, but saw nothing unusual. All of the sudden, he realized what was wrong. It was too quiet. There were no sounds, not even the sound of the slight breeze moving in the trees.
Freaked out by the silence, he started to rise to leave when he saw the flashes of light in the pond; it was not the reflections of moonlight on the water, it seemed to be coming from beneath the surface. He moved cautiously to the edge of the rock and peered into the water, ignoring the sudden throbbing in his head. He saw a ball of pulsing bluish-white light seeming to emanate from the bottom of the pond. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, fascinated, concerns and injuries temporarily forgotten. He racked his brain, but could not figure out what would be causing that to happen.
With an abrupt start, he realized that he should be getting this on his camera. He was reaching for his phone when the light suddenly pulsed brightly. Before Jake could react, the light pulsed again and seemed to erupt noiselessly from the pond. He tried to move, but the light quickly surrounded him, squeezing him tightly as if he was captured in a giant fist, the brightness blinding his sight. He screamed for help, but no sound reached his ears as if the light absorbed it all. The light flared again and he could feel warmth spread over his body. Quicker than thought, he felt a sudden wrenching and the sensation of acceleration as if he were being pulled rapidly over an unimaginable distance.