Jimmy stepped into the barn. The dim lantern in the corner created eerie shadows. Bartholomew whinnied softly. A swaying shadow contrasted with one of the golden walls. Jimmy looked up and saw his father swinging from the rafters, a rope around his neck.
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He woke with a start. His nightmare had haunted his dreams every Friday since the one Friday he found his dad. Jimmy stumbled to the bathroom, his stomach already heaving. This was his early morning routine every Friday. As he came to his senses on the cold tile floor, he began to shiver. Eventually he drifted back to sleep and awoke again a few hours later, stiff and frozen.
Pretending to postpone thinking about his past, Jimmy reached over and turned on the shower. Slowly he got in, letting the burning water heal his wounds.
Jimmy was shocked to find that a dusting of snow had fallen overnight. He had never really seen it before. But today, he was not interested. So, he grabbed a cold bowl of grits and a piece of toast and sat down in his chair. Time slowly passed as he forced himself to eat. Finally he stood and wearily slipped into his oil-stained jumpsuit and walked down the decrepit stairs. He was earlier than usual getting to work. Work would distract him. It was going to be another one of those days.
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Jimmy stopped in to say goodbye to Pokey as he was leaving. He stepped loudly so he wouldn't scare Pokey, like he had last time.
"See ya later, Pokey. Have a nice weekend."
Pokey looked up and smiled. Pokey liked Jimmy, or so Jimmy liked to think.
"Bye! I'll come see Buck before I go home!"
"You go on ahead and do that Pokey. You do that."
He felt downtrodden as he climbed the last step before the fourth floor. He just wanted to sit on the couch, see her face, talk with her. He knocked on her door and then entered, tripping over the pink doormat. Karen looked alarmed as she walked into the living room from her bedroom, but, realizing it was Jimmy, smiled and came towards him. Jimmy felt his legs give out as he collapsed onto her couch. The energy left in his body was drained.
"Jimmy! What's wrong with you?" Karen asked.
"I- I just need to rest darlin'."
Karen didn't ask any questions: she simply went into the kitchen, got two cups of tea, and put his head in her lap as she sat on the couch.
"I brought you some tea when you want it. Just rest."
Jimmy had never allowed himself to let someone take care of him. But it was time that he opened up to someone. And she was the right person to do so with. They understood each other. She allowed him just to be. She didn't persist, asking what was wrong. She knew he would talk when he wanted to talk.
And he told her everything. And she just listened. He loved her for listening. He loved her for not judging him. He loved her.
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As Karen searched intently amongst the stacks of books in the used book store she accidentally bumped into someone next to her. She glanced up and noticed an older man in a sweater vest looking back at her, slightly startled.
As soon as Karen realized she had bumped into the man she quickly said, "Oh, excuse me! I didn't even see you there. I was so engrossed in finding a particular book."
"Don't worry about it," the man replied, "I often lose myself in the books also. I try to come here once every few weeks. You never know what you'll find."
"I know, I love the treasure hunt in used book stores. It's always a mystery what you'll go home with." Karen paused and saw that the man had a serene smile on his face as he nodded with agreement. "You look so familiar," Karen continued, "You come into the gift shop every now and then, don't you?"
"Ah, yes, I do. It's the only place nearby where I can find quality stationery and greeting cards."
"That's so great to hear. It's what I was aiming for!" Karen said enthusiastically.
"So what book were you looking for? I've spent so much time here that I know the place pretty well," the man said kindly.
"Actually, I'm looking for To Kill a Mockingbird. It's one of my favorites and I wanted to find a copy for someone who I think would like it."
"Oh that one is right around the corner on the far wall. There should be a couple copies to choose from."
"Thanks so much! It was nice running into you. By the way, I'm Karen," Karen said as she extended her hand to the man.
"I'm Everett. It's very nice to meet you and keep up the good work in the gift shop!"
"Have a good day and feel free to come by the shop anytime!"
After Karen got home from the used book store she wrapped To Kill a Mockingbird in polka dot gift wrap from the gift shop and wrote a little note on her stationery "Dear Jimmy, This book is one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! Love, Karen" Karen left the gift on the floor by Jimmy's door so it would be there when he got home from work. Jimmy had been down lately and she thought a little surprise might brighten his day, even if it helped just a bit.
Oliver slowly walked down the sidewalk in the brisk evening simply because he needed some time to collect himself after a strange week. The cold air felt good blowing against his face, and every time he took a breath, it was cold enough so he could see it. There was a full moon overhead and a clear sky, so that he could make out several constellations in the stars; if it were not for all the street lamps the sky would be completely lit up with them. He remembered looking up at the night sky in Scotland as a small child, when his sense of imagination and innocent wonder was all he needed in order to have a happy life. He recalled his father watching the stars with him on chilly nights such as this one, and remembered him pointing out which bright lights were Mars, Venus, and Mercury, and which were suns that each had their own individual planets floating around them. Half the time he didn't know exactly what his father was talking about, but he still believed every word he said. Oliver looked up to his father, who seemed to know everything about not only the world, but about everything in the universe.
Oliver was 13 years old when he heard the knock on the door that would change his life forever. As he watched his mother answer the door to find two authorities standing there, his heart sank because he felt at that point that something terrible had happened. It turned out his father had been killed in a car accident on his way to work that morning. From that point on, Oliver never had a point in his life where he felt completely safe or secure, all because the airbag in his father's truck failed to open that one morning.
"Ah Dad," he said aloud. "Why'd you have to go?" He wasn't angry, though. He even cracked a thin smile when he thought of his father's kooky sense of humor and how he probably laughed at the whole situation when he got up to heaven. Just thinking about his father made him feel good, because he was one of the only people who ever HAD made him feel good about himself. These days, it wasn't so easy for Oliver. Oliver looked at his watch and saw that he had been walking around for an hour and a half, and figured he should probably get back home to his family. They are, after all, his life, he thought to himself. He was fortunate enough to have his wife and two sons who love him no matter what, and he seemed to forget that from time to time.
Oliver was walking past the auto mechanics shop when he heard a loud clanging noise coming from inside the building followed by a loud yell. "What the--?" Oliver said loudly in surprise. "Hello? Are you all right in there?" He figured there must have been somebody in there, and whatever they were yelling about, it probably wasn't good. There was no answer at first. Oliver yelled again, "Hey! Is there anybody in there? I heard somebody shout!" There still was no answer, but when Oliver put his ear against the stained, blurry windows to the shop, he heard what sounded like someone stumbling around, knocking into things, and audibly cursing every two seconds. Oliver then decided to open the front door and see if whoever was in there needed any help. He opened the door and walked inside, finding himself inside a large garage with a car jacked up in the middle of the room. There was a dim light on in the far corner of the room, and right in front of it, Oliver saw a man sitting on a chair clutching his hand and mumbling to himself. "Hey, are--are you all right?" Oliver asked the man quietly so as not to startle him from behind. Too late; the man jumped, said "Whoa!", and nearly fell off his chair as he looked at Oliver in surprise.
"Who're you?" he asked. The man had a Southern accent, and was still clutching his hand. "Sorry, I was outside your shop and I heard you scream. I just came in to see if you were all right." "Oh..." he said. Then he looked down at his hand. "Yeah, I just, uh, got my hand slammed by the hood of this here car." He winced as he peeked underneath the bandage on his hand. "I reckon it ain't too bad, but I'ma tell you right now, it still hurt REAL bad." He chuckled as he looked back at Oliver. "Sorry, the name's Jimmy. What's yours?" "Oliver Stone, nice to meet you," said Oliver, relieved that he wasn't going to have to perform CPR on anybody that night. "Well, it sounded pretty bad, are you sure you're okay?" asked Oliver, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "Oh yeah, ain't the first time that happened to me. Been working on cars since I was a kid, and when you been doing it that long, you're bound to get banged up pretty durn good by these things," Jimmy said as he patted the hood of the car next to him.
"So, uh...you like cars, Oliver?" Jimmy said, probably just trying to make some small-talk. "Well, to be honest, Jimmy, not really. It's just I've sort of had a....bad experience, uh...relating to cars," Oliver said. "Bad experience, huh?" asked Jimmy. "Well, if ya don't mind me inquirin', what happened?" "Well, uh....my...my father was killed in an accident....when I was 13," Oliver told him softly. "Oh. I'm...sorry, Oliver. I...I know how that feels," said Jimmy. "My dad....died when I was young, too." "I'm sorry," said Oliver. There was a brief silence, and then Oliver said with a courteous smile, "Well, I'm glad your hand's alright, Jimmy. I should probably get going, though." "Oh yeah, thanks, I should get finished with this dang car myself. Nice meetin' ya, though." "You too," said Oliver, and he walked out of the garage. As he continued to walk towards Thallow Flats, he felt strangely comforted by his run-in with Jimmy. He felt like someone else understood him, and even if Jimmy hadn't fully understood Oliver's predicament, he at least was good enough to extend some kindness towards him. Maybe his week hadn't turned out so bad after all.
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