Results 1 to 2 of 2
  1. #1
    notthewordsofonewhokneels Thread's Avatar
    Post Count
    81,190
    NBA Team
    Los Angeles Lakers
    Swept Away

    by russell-ville-man

    Copyright© 2020 by russell-ville-man


    Synopsis: An actual incident of violence leads to the beginning of redemption for a lost son.
    Sex Contents: No Sex
    Genre: Young Adult
    Codes: Ma/Fa, Romantic, Heterosexual, Fiction, True Story
    Size: 13 KB
    Posted: 2020-07-23



    She’d captured his eye. To his amazement shock turned quickly to ache, somewhere on the borders of his brain and his heart. Usually the ache centered in his groin. Long legged, body tuned to near gorgeous among a bevy of body tuned gorgeous girls. “Patty this.”---”Patty that.” cut through the cacophony heavily freighted in humid air. Her girlfriends attentive to the boys-boys on the edge of manhood. Right on that scalding edge. She caught him tracking her ... it had started.




    He looked away to the sharp blue sky above the motel pool.

    “Damn, did she catch me?”
    He peeked.
    “ , she caught me.”
    He scanned again, first dropping his $500 sunglasses over his closely cropped dark brown hair and into exact position.
    “Is she frowning at me? Yes, I believe she is.” He answered his own silent query.
    Jack’s fleeting confidence deflating at an alarming pace.
    “Get y, or, get gone.” He silently implored himself.
    He’d no sooner decided to (get y) when she lifted from the pool lounger and began to approach him.
    “It is you she’s approaching, isn’t it?”
    Mistake number two came at once. He turned and quickly confirmed there was no one she was approaching behind him.
    “Ah, !”

    “Don’t stare at me, Jack. What’s wrong with you?”

    The din of the impromptu party eased a measure. Notice was taken. Heads began to adjust.

    “How does she know your name? I have no idea.” Again to himself he countered himself.

    He could tell at once she was tight, though not drunk.
    “Why couldn’t this be easy? It never is easy.” To-him-self.

    He’d had one drink in the motel lounge before the bar keep clued him to the goings on outside on the deck.

    “A lot of fresh ones out there, pal.”
    Jack turned and immediately found her, drained his glass, paid, tipped and went on out.
    “Good luck, pal.”
    That hard “pal” caused some concern, but, it fell away as he pushed open the door and the oppressive humidity of Florida slammed him, you guessed it-hard.




    “What?”

    She was talking to him, but, all he could make sense of was her tone, an accusatory rasp was plain.
    “Mr. Hot Stuff, huh?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “I beg your pardon?” Jack silently admonished himself.
    “What!? You heard me. Nobody invited you out here.”
    He wanted to ask her about her familiarity with his Christian name, but, did not.
    “Patty.” Some girl from the gallery section with a beseeching tone. Patty never heard her.
    She was absolutely stunning in a white and black bikini. Not a mark, not a stain, not one imperfection to the white, nor the black. Jack’s jaw slacked open.
    “You’d be cute if you weren’t so damn short.” She stopped six feet from him.
    ‘ in’ .’ To-him-self.
    “You ing .” To her.
    “What did you call me, shorty?”
    “You heard me,,,,,, Patty.”
    Patty quickly closed the distance to arm’s length then hissed:
    “I believe I’m taller than you, stubby.”

    “Jack, your temper has no bounds, sweetheart.” His mother had told him that once, she’d told him, their only child that a 100 times.

    “Your mother is right, Jack.” His father agreeing with her across the dinner table as he concentrated on his plate of food.
    “Why do I come to dinner with these people?” Silently to himself.
    “Yes, mom.” As tersely as he dared and past that caution sign.
    “You’re welcome. More meatloaf, Jackie? Made it special for you, darling.”

    It wasn’t true, Patty wasn’t taller, it was close, yes, but, a lie and he bit back, hard:

    “Maybe, but, you got no ass cept your mouth, Patty.”
    It wasn’t nearly true, but, he’d hesitated nary a beat before delivering that sledge-hammer of a lie.
    He heard the oh’s and ah’s cascade up from the now near silent gallery. Some stirring as well.
    He’d hurt her and he regretted it almost at once. Almost.
    She backed away from him as the hurt settled on in.
    He waved with the flat of his left hand fingers.
    “Buh, bye,,, Patty.”

    It happened so fast he still couldn’t account for it in the aftermath. Patty advanced quickly, tossed her full drink into his face. The melting ice shards caused Jack’s hackles to flare. Patty immediately started to back away from him and in a faster gait. He tried to stop himself, but, didn’t come close. He fumbled a bit with his feet at arrival, but, got them straightened out in fast order and proceeded to sweep her legs out from under her. The difference between perhaps an inch, not more than two was the difference between jail and love.



    -Patty never lost consciousness. You need to know this.

    -The back of Patty’s head never hit the hard metal foot tube of the lounger by an inch, no more. You need to know this.
    -The back of Patty’s head did bounce off the pool deck. You need to know this.
    -The back of Patty’s head bounced such because the deck was rubberized. You need to know this.
    -Jack was a black belt in karate. You need to know this.
    -There were no acts of retribution against Jack. You need to know this.
    -Miami-Dade Police were not summoned. You need to know this.
    -Miami-Dade Paramedics were summoned. You need to know this.
    -Patty, Patricia Stafford, 21 years of age was transported to Rampart Hospital for observation at the insistence of the aforementioned Miami-Dade Paramedics. You need to know this.

    “You’re sure you don’t want the police called, Ms. Stafford?”

    “No! Please don’t call them. It’s not right ... it’s not necessary. I don’t even need to go to the hospital. I’m fine.”
    “It’s our call, Ms. Stafford.”
    “Fine. Then take me.”
    “Yes, Miss.”

    “Judy, call my mom, please. Tell her I’ll be at Rampart and not to worry, I’m fine. You understand?”

    “Sure, Pats, no problem. I won’t alarm her. No drama, promise. And I’ll be right behind you.”
    “Thanks.” She looked around for him, but, there was no sign. The gurney was raised, like on TV and she was wheeled out.



    As soon as he’d been able to assure his immediate safety by ins uting defensive, instead of offensive self defense tactics Jack assessed the situation.

    She was talking, thank Christ. He’d backed off enough to get his bearings and an arc of safety.
    “You stupid ass, you. I know, I know.” Jack cursed himself, aloud.
    “Should we call the police?” Jack heard that once, then again and again.
    “No!” That voice. That raspy voice cut through the throng of people and noise.
    “No! Nobody call the police. I don’t want that. Leave him alone, please. It’s not his faul ... just don’t call the police, that’s all.”

    “Go, dude, go now.” Some skinny guy twelve feet away. A pause, then:

    “She’ll be okay. I’m in Med School. She hasn’t been concussed.”

    He alerted himself: “Go, Jack.”

    He backed away, never turning his face from the throng gathered around the girl.
    Jack started it up and pulled out. The car’s air conditioning immediately freezing the sheen of sweat that had formed on him. He was drenched. A shiver ran through his core. He tasted the bile in his throat. He heard it before it flashed by; Metro-Dade Paramedics, siren blaring, lights all the haywire.

    “Christ. Stop the car. Stop the Goddamn car!” He pulled it over and into a vacant lot.

    “Just sit here and ing wait. If the cops come you have to go back and face this. And I mean it, Jack. I know, I know.”
    Jack backed it in, dropped the visor and cursed himself no end.
    A half hour later the ambulance, in reverse direction passed the now occupied lot; no siren, no haywire. Just a calm demeanor, speed limit maintained.

    “Go home, and not that home. Don’t do this to the folks, not tonight. They don’t need it. They don’t deserve it. Suffer alone, asshole. Suffer-the- -alone!”


    Jack’s apartment was dark. He left the lights off, quickly undressed and showered in the hottest water he could brook.

    “You need to eat something, asshole.” He forced something down. Some thing threatened to reverse course. He fought and won. Some thing stayed down.
    Jack sat in the dark, the outside quickly matching that darkness.
    “Make it right.”
    “How?”
    “You know how.”
    “No.”
    “Get the up. Get dressed. Make this right. Account for it.”
    “ me.”

    A half-hour on and Jack climbed into his car, set the app and powered it.

    “Good evening, Jack, to where shall I guide you?”
    “Rampart Hospital.”




    Jack was tempted to make a stop and purchase gas station flowers.

    A glance into the rear view mirror and he countered that temptation:
    “No. It wouldn’t be right. This is an accounting, not a date. Are you sure?” He queried himself.

    “How can I help you, sir.?” The candy-striper looked up from her cell phone screen.

    “I need a favor, Jennifer.” He’d taken note her name tag.
    “Oh, sure, a favor could be arranged.”
    He went quick: “A young lady, a couple hours past arrived by ambulance with a slight head injury.”
    He leaned in close.
    “Patty, Patricia is her name. Any way you could look that up for me, Jennifer?”

    The elevator doors opened. He moved to the side to allow passage. The doors began to close. He stopped their advance with the slice of his hand.

    (to be continued)

  2. #2
    notthewordsofonewhokneels Thread's Avatar
    Post Count
    81,190
    NBA Team
    Los Angeles Lakers
    (concluded)

    He was in the door frame when her mother, arms akimbo took note. “And how may I help you, young man?”
    A sharp shriek from the seated bedside Judy:
    “Oh-my-God.” She coiffed her hair.
    “What, who is this man?” - mother
    “Who is it, what’s the matter? - daughter
    “I don’t believe it. You son-of-a...” - Judy
    “Oh-my-God. You’re the one? You son-of-a- .” - mother
    “Oh-my-God.” As she touched her hair. - Patricia
    “Call security. Press the panic button, Judy. Now! Oh-my-God.” - mother
    “Please.” - Jack
    “You son-of-a- .” mother, advancing across the private room.
    “Mother! Mom! Stop!” She had at once stowed the panic button beneath the hospital blanket and was holding it with a death grip.
    Judy shrieked again.
    “Judy!” - Patricia
    “How dare you! What the is wrong with you? To come here after assaulting this child.” - mother
    “I’m, I’m, I’m sorry. I came to...”
    “Sorry? You son-of-a- , you. If my husband, her father were alive he’d show you sorry. You son-of-a- . I’m calling the police.”
    “Mom, please. Please, mom, okay?”
    The woman broke-just the slightest.
    “Mom, just a couple minutes, please. Judy?” Judy stood and smoothed her clothing.
    “What? You want me to leave you alone with this, with this, this animal? No. Uh, uh. No way. I won’t do it. I should call the pol...”
    “Mom. I need a few minutes with him. Please, mom. I promise it will be okay.”
    “C’mon, Mrs. Stafford, we’ll have a coffee down the hall.”
    He moved out of the doorway and inside the room, just barely.
    Judy reached for her hand, but, the woman ignored the gesture, moved past Jack and out the door.
    “Asshole.” She hissed.
    Judy followed, her eyes bearing into his. “I wish he’d swept my legs.” She thought to herself.





    “It’s alright. You can come over now.”
    The quieting of the footsteps of the women steadied Jack. He moved to the seat that Judy had occupied, but, did not sit.
    “You’re okay?”
    “Sure. No concussion. Just a bit of a headache, probably mostly from the alcohol. I’m not much of a drinker. Patty is my name, well Patricia, but, everybody calls me Patty.”
    She turned loose of the panic button, left it under the hospital blanket and extended her right hand. It was warm when Jack’s ice cold hand engaged it.
    The combination of warm and cold was immediate. A crack of blue light wasn’t seen, but, was felt, but, not extinguished as they both held on.
    “I’m sorry, Patricia.”
    “Me too, uh,,, I don’t even know your name.”
    “It’s Jack.” He was stunned.
    “What!” She was incredulous.
    “Yes, my name is Jack.”
    “Oh-my-goodness, I had no idea. I picked a name out of the air. No wonder you were so, so, well so confused, is that the right word, uh, Jack?”
    “Yes, confused and mean. No excuses, Patricia, I was wrong. I’m glad you’re not hurt.” The knot in his stomach began to unravel for the first time since he pushed thru that lounge door.
    She’d never heard her Christian name practiced with such quality and caring, even from her mother.
    Their clasp held, the warmth nurturing both youngsters.

    Time was up, he could almost hear her mother galloping back, perhaps with law enforcement after all.
    “I’d better go, Patricia.”
    But, Patricia held tight to Jack’s hand, so firmly that Jack laid his other hand to the grip, then leaned in slowly and kissed the girl, on her cheek ever so softly.
    “I’ll make it up to you. Please.” She’d not opened her eyes, but, heard his vow plainly.
    “Yes.” Just a whisper.
    The clip-clop could be heard in the distance. He’d have to hurry.
    “I’ll come for you tomorrow night, Patricia. Please.”
    “I’ll be waiting, Jack. I promise.”
    The clip-clop sounded like a freight train when the children released their clasp and the boy straightened, the girl easing back in the bed.
    “You’re still here, young man.” She swept into the room, Judy was nowhere in sight.
    “Mother, please.”
    “Mrs. Stafford, again my profound apologies to you and to your late husband. I will make this up to you and your daughter. I’ve promised Patricia and I make you that same vow.”
    The woman renewed her protest, but, her words retreated as Jack met Patricia’s eyes, then exited the room.
    Just this side of the elevators Jack found Judy and respectfully garnered Patty’s contact information from the young woman.
    “It’s okay, Judy, I swear it.”





    “Mom, would it be possible for you to make your meatloaf tomorrow night?”
    “Jackie?” She was graveled.
    “Yes, mother, please. I’d like to come to dinner and bring a friend I’ve just met. I want her to meet my parents.”
    She sat down in a kitchen chair, Jack Sr., edged into the room for a closer look-see. He knew his wife’s tones like the back of his hand.
    “Of course, Jackie, you’re always welcome here, son. This is your home.”
    “Mom?” Jack’s voice broke just a measure ... It’d been years since she’d heard him call out to her, or, his father.
    “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here, your father as well.”
    “I love you, mom, dad, too...”
    A skein of silence took hold.
    ... And I always will.”
    “We’ll be here, Jackie. Always. See you tomorrow evening. Good night, honey.”
    She set the phone aside.
    “Jack, our boy, our son is coming back to us.”

    -The End-

Thread Information

Users Browsing this Thread

There are currently 1 users browsing this thread. (0 members and 1 guests)

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •