On The Run: Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Seven - "Should Old Acquaintances Be Forgot?"

Jake

 

I was going to ignore the fifth call from Marcus, but then I realized: Marcus would never call me five times in a row.

I got up and Devon stared at me curiously.

“Sorry, I think it’s important.”

The man who sat across from me in cuffs, who we were in the middle of interrogating, looked up at me like: And this isn’t?

I walked out into the break room and called Marcus back.

“Hi, what’s up? I’m at work,” I said brusquely. There was no other way with Marcus.

“Hey Jake, you sitting down?”

He called me Jake. I straightened.

“What?” I asked.

His voice was quiet and very unlike my terribly annoying brother’s. “You might want to sit down.”

I did the exact opposite actually; I stood up straighter.

“What, Marcus?”

I knew though. Right then, I already knew. I just needed to hear it.

“It’s dad. He had a heart attack.” He paused. “He’s dead, Jake.”

I hung up. What else could I do?

*

My mom was taking everything far better than I’d expected. It was making me very uneasy.

“Do we have enough cake for everyone?” she asked for the hundredth time. Honestly, I didn’t see the logic behind having an after-funeral party with cake, but she was planning, and we were letting her get on with it.

“Janet, everything’s all set. You should go to bed,” Emily said gently, taking her arm.

I hadn’t seen my mom cry yet, and I was really hoping she had, because if this was all a build-up, I couldn’t imagine what was coming.

Nana wasn’t even watching any television. Then again, she’d just lost her son. She’d retreated to her room and she hadn’t come out for days; I was starting to worry, but my mom said she’d done the same thing when she lost her husband.

All in all, it was hard. I hadn’t had time to let it sink; I was just worrying about my family.

It couldn’t be real, could it?

“Ryan, Jake, you guys want to grab a beer at Old Pine?” Marcus asked, getting up.

To be honest, I felt sorry for Marcus the most of all. He’d actually had a decent relationship with my dad, and to lose yet another parent, well, that couldn’t be easy.

So I nodded, “Sure. Ryan?”

Ryan hesitated. Marcus was going to want to talk about the good times, and seeing as Ryan and I had none, it would be very uncomfortable. I gave him a pleading look and he nodded.

Emily led my mom upstairs as we said our ‘good nights’ and piled into Ryan’s truck.

We didn’t talk; there was nothing to say. I sat there wondering why I didn’t feel sadder. Obviously, I’d never liked the man, but I thought I ought to feel sadness. All I felt was guilt.

Old Pine was down the street, and it was open-mike night, so some wannabe big shots were on stage blowing the place apart.

“Stewie, three beers please?” I asked the bartender, who gave me a sad look. Everyone in Old Town Triangle always knew everyone else’s business; it was one of the things I hated about the neighborhood, but it was also what made it home. I turned to Ryan and Marcus, “What are you guys having?”