Digging up old memories

Chapter 14

Jane's POV

It's dark and cold. His face hurts and his head's pounding painfully. He's thrown up twice beside the dumpster in the alleyway – the nausea not letting up. He tucks himself tighter into a ball against the wall, his boy scout uniform not providing any warmth or protection from the rough pavement. The sun is starting to rise, so he knows he's been there all night... but he has to wait. He would come back, he always did... and if he wasn't where he left him, then things would be worse.

Finally, he could hear him calling...'Patty... pst. Patty... where are you? [loud whistle] Patty... come out. C'mon... I'm tired.'

He crawled out from beside the dumper and stood up. He must be in worst shape than he thought because his father gave him a brief look of concern followed by disappointment. His father sighed loudly and the smell of alcohol from his breath caused another wave of nausea to hit him.

'I hope you learned your lesson son. You're 14 years old and what... now you think you can do what you want. No. I'm the boss, you hear me? When I give you a mark, you do as you're told. Don't ever cross me again.'

His father started dragging him by the arm and was squeezing the bruise there causing shooting pain to lance through his body. He winced, and tears started prickling his eyes – but he couldn't cry, or it would make him mad, but his father heard his soft sob of pain and stopped abruptly.

'What is this? Now you're crying, trying to make me feel bad. Grow a pair why don't you. Not only do I have an ungrateful son, he's a wuss too. This is from your mother's side. Life is tough... how are you going to hack it if I don't teach you. You think I wanted to sit in that bar all night, so I could teach you a lesson. I did it because I care. You need toughing up. Just look at you. And your face... look what you made me do. If you could take a small slap, maybe you wouldn't have fallen and smashed your face in the wall. I'm too soft on you. You better hope this doesn't affect our cashflow today.'

'Sorry, sir,' he says apologetically.

'You damn right. You're lucky I stuck around when your whore of a mother left. You look nothing like me, but I did the right thing... you better remember that. I could have left you in foster care... but I stepped up. You need to start showing your appreciation for everything that I do for you my boy.'

He nodded. 'Thank you, sir,' he said.

'Now smile. You're making people on the street uncomfortable. We're out of cash because you made me sit in that bar all night. We'll hit the financial district, so you can replenish what you owe. You remember your lesson boy... money is easy come, easy go. You can always make more.'

"Jane... Jane... wake up! Jane..."

Teresa was over leaning over him from a sitting position... he closed eyes feeling confused, then opened them again. She was still there... his heart was racing, and he felt his panic attack start. He tried to breathe, but the dream had been so vivid that his body felt like he was still there.

He sat up and swung his legs past her and scooted to the edge of the bed.

"Uhm, I need, um-" he didn't finish his sentence. He grabbed his boxers and headed into the washroom.

He started pacing the small washroom which was making him dizzy now. He grabbed the sink with both hands feeling sick. Breathe in, breathe out, he said to himself. Then he started counting backwards to try and short-circuit his brain. He sat on the toilet and tried to regain his bearings... he hadn't had a panic attack in years now – the emotions of the night must have triggered some of his PTSD. He didn't know how long he was in there, but finally, he was able to breathe normally again.

He heard Teresa moving around, suddenly aware that she must be freaked out by his behavior right now. He took a steadying breath and opened the door. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed with the sheet tucked under her arms. She looked up at him with concern in her eyes and he gave her a half-hearted smile of apology. He'd never been happier to see her than right now. He felt exhausted and he crawled back into bed and laid his head on her lap. He closed his eyes and she started stroking his hair gently.

"Sorry," he said simply.

"Hush, it's okay," she replied.

He felt his body relax and then let the black abyss reclaim him into sleep.