|  Author | Topic: When There is Little Risk Involved... (Read 399 times) |
Jessie
Pitiful Poster
member is offline
![[avatar]](http://i50.tinypic.com/mwbds5.jpg "[avatar]")
From a boy to a man
Joined: Aug 2011
Gender: Male 
Posts: 24
Karma: 2 |  | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #15 on Oct 11, 2011, 5:14pm » | |
"Jiminy Christmas!" Jessie braced himself for impact when the sub-combact car swerved in front of them. He closed his eyes tight and steeled himself with a hand to the dashboard. When he heard no bang and felt no impact, he popped one eye open and looked over at Roan incredulously. Usually Roan's rants about other drivers fell on deaf ears, but this time, Jessie agreed wholeheartedly and started yelling at the other driver, too.
So when Roan turned and grinned at Jessie, Jessie grinned right back. They had become quite good friends, and a heck of a team, since Jessie first started. Even before Roan knew about the connection between Jessie and their employer, a friendship had bloomed between the two men.
"Nice stuff, like that marble statue of David?" Jessie teased, knowing full well how Roan disliked sharing his cut of the pay with the temporary help. The fact that David was a statue of a naked man had absolutely nothing to do with it. Well, that was Jessie's story and he was sticking to it. When Roan shot Jessie a look of disapproval, Jessie sat back and laughed.
It didn't take long for them to get to their final destination for the day. While the large white house with it's gargoyles and wrought iron would make anybody else gawk, the two men were finding it almost commonplace with the customers now. Nobody living in the neighborhoods that Roan and Jessie called home could ever afford the goods that traveled in the back of their truck.
"Let's get this over with." Jessie climbed into the back of the truck as Roan got the instructions from the home owner. Carefully, he slid the crates to the edge of the bed until they were stacked nice and neatly, waiting to be put upon the dolly. It was how they worked, Roan talked to the customers while the much shyer Jessie loaded the cargo. For them, it worked perfectly.
Just then, Jessie's phone began to buzz. Taking a lean against the wall in the back of the truck, he smiled when he saw who the text was from. Roan knew that smile all too well, and knew who the text must have been from. Jessie typed out a quick response while Roan loaded up the dolly.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Love you."
Text sent, Jessie helped Roan load the crates down the ramp, towards the house. The thick gravel slowed them down quite a bit and Jessie was sweating profusely by the time they got the goods to the side door. "Let's get this finished," he panted as they took a short breather before wheeling the wine crates into the house. "I've got a date." And that grin was back.
| |
|
Jacob Hutchenson
Somewhat Respectable Poster
member is offline
![[avatar]](http://i326.photobucket.com/albums/k427/keyoyia/Clive-Owen-1.jpg "[avatar]")
![[homepage]](http://images.proboards.com/new/buttons/www_sm.png "[homepage]")
Joined: Dec 2010
Gender: Male
Posts: 27
Location: Rhydin
Karma: 4 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #16 on Oct 12, 2011, 7:57am » | |
Roan liked some people and there was never a straightforward reason why. Some people were fond of Roan and that would make some outsiders question how sane that person was. Dr. Hutchenson, for example, liked Roan from the day he met him. It was odd that he was raise a son to be so rigid, calculating and proper and yet approve so highly of Roan, who no one would have accused of being anything like Jacob. The two of them had had very little interactions with one another.
Roan liked Jessie for the same reason he liked Dr. Hutchenson-- he could read straight through their eyes. Sure, the doctor was a wiley old fox with some malice to sharpen, but Roan already knew that and was good in a knife fight so he could handle the good doctor. Jessie was only ambiguous to some people because the uncertainty in the boy came from within. Jessie wasn't hiding anything, he was just thinking about it and trying to make up his mind. Plus, shy people generally amused Roan cause he couldn't remember being shy since he was twelve.
When he was seventeen and a girl snuck up into his he had enjoyed the thrill of teenage copulation-- even after his mother opened the door and asked him what he was doing. Roan had spat back at her "What do you think I'm doing?" That was him at seventeen, a slightly sweeter boy than he was now. These days there would have been a string of artful swearing with that statement. It was said that he invented two commonly used cursing phrases. They sometimes spilled out in front of clients, which had had the good Dr. Hutchenson frown fiercely at him. It wasn't that the doctor disagreed, it was that his clients tended to be his friends and that when Roan did such things, it cheapened the atmosphere of what was being sold. Generally speaking, that was the usual conflict between Roan and the doctor.
Plus, who said Jiminy Cricket anymore? Jessie could draw himself right out of the 1940's sometimes.
"Oh, you do, huh?" Roan grunted as they worked the dolly up the two stone stairs and then exhaled, tipping the hand truck on its two wheels and rolling it through the front door and down the hall way, "So I got a question for you and I get it if you don't answer me." Roan stopped the hand truck at the mouth of the cellar and picked up one of the two crates. He nodded that Jessie should take up the other, "What's he like?"
Walking the case down the cellar, he added, "The son, I mean. I've never seen the guy smile so I just don't get it, you know?" Cause Jessie, well, Jessie was all smiles as far as Roan was concerned.
| |
|
Jessie
Pitiful Poster
member is offline
From a boy to a man
Joined: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 24
Karma: 2 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #17 on Oct 14, 2011, 5:07pm » | |
Jessie hefted the crate and began his trek down the stairs in the bowl legged way of a man carrying something he couldn't see over. The question threw him off guard, they'd discussed many things in the confines of the cab of the truck, but nothing so personal as what one's lover was like. It gave Jessie pause and he stared at the back of Roan's head, trying to figure out what was in there and what he wanted.
When Roan was at the bottom of the stairs, Jessie began walking again, one heavy step at a time. "Well, he's a very private person," he started slowly. "I don't think he likes to mix business with pleasure, the two worlds rarely meet." Except in Jessie. "If you're wondering what his smile is like," Jessie grinned as he got to the bottom of the stairs. "It takes my breath away, it's so beautiful." He hadn't meant to gush, but when he thought of Jacob and that playful side that nobody else knew, it made Jessie mushy inside.
Roan had already placed his crates where instructed, and Jessie made his way over to finish the job. "So what's there not to get?"
| |
|
Jacob Hutchenson
Somewhat Respectable Poster
member is offline
Joined: Dec 2010
Gender: Male
Posts: 27
Location: Rhydin
Karma: 4 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #18 on Oct 19, 2011, 11:25am » | |
Roan had to try, with some great measure, to figure out how to tell Jessie why there was an inquiry. Even Roan could display some level of self-monitoring in that respect which was commendable given his tendency to word vomit exactly what he thought. It was just... how did he delicately explain to Jessie that he thought Jacob was a cold robot who probably dissected bodies in his free time? That if someone told him that Jacob was a direct descendent of Jack the Ripper that Roan's reaction for the first time in the history of everythign ever would have been "...oh. Okay."
When Jessie went into details about the smile, however, Roan just gave him a salty expression, knowing that Jessie full well knew that that wasn't what he meant. Jessie just liked to gush, it was how those shy and sensitive types got when they felt comfortable around someone. After the crates were set down Roan crouched with a small crow bar to split the protective crate enough so that when the owner decided to put them up it wouldn't be such a hassel. He slipped the small crow bar back into the side loop of his pants and nodded back at the stairs for them to get going.
"It's just... you know... he's really different from you. Really." Roan mopped the front of his forehead and then shot a grin as they climbed up the small, steep cement stairs of the wine cellar, "Looks like we're done for the day kid. Not too soon either, I need a beer." Roan let out a rakish laugh and then waved to the man who had let them in the front door and called to him, "See you next time!" The man just lifted his head up higher by the chin and shut the door behind them.
After they were out of the residence he sprang out into the driver's seat, looking back over at Jessie once he was seated again, "You need to learn to drive a truck. You use to be a grease monkey, right? You got a license to drive this thing?" It would help him a great deal on mornings where he was hungover to have Jessie at the wheel. He figured the kid was the type to have one glass of wine and call it a night.
Jacob found that the day had been long, not physically exhausting but the phone calls made him feel tied to his desk which he was beginning to detest. Though he had been furnished a high quality desk and chair in his study it didn't matter-- the hours wasted there that he wasn't use to putting in made his back, neck and wrist sore. When he rose up from his desk he rearranged all his materials. He was like that, he preferred that things be in a particular order. The stapler was realigned with the square box that held his pens. He wiped off the ghostly smudges of where fingers had traced over the polished wood. Jacob only wrote in blue ink, to him it made original documents more obvious which saved him time. Photocopied papers didn't carry the color and sometimes even color printers relayed the blue incorrectly.
One of his hands went to his throat to loosen his tie. Phillip knocked on the door and stepped through with a tight smile, "Sir, Dr. Hutchenson is here to see you."
"Let him in."
His father appeared so quickly after he spoke that he knew the man had hardly cared for his approval to appear. His dad had white in his hair, it was sharp against the black hair which was just as dark as Jacob's. His teeth were painfully white and when he smiled Jacob sometimes felt that he were showing them off. It wasn't unlike a lion's grimace except that it was happy.
"I assume you're here in regards to the publishing house?" Jacob looked down at the papers on his desk and then back to his father, "I settled the matter an hour ago. It's been handled, it's fine." He stepped away from his desk, finishing the loosening of his tie until it fell like a loose strip of cloth from the back of his neck against his dark blue button up.
"Oh, I'm not here about that." His father replied, the tone which was almost snarky, "I was wondering what your plans were tonight."
"I've already made plans," Jacob pressed him firmly, looking back at his father with a steady gaze. He knew what his father could be like when he was trying to change his mind about something. It was close to sounding like both bribery and insisting.
"But Jacob, when was the last ti--"
"I have already made plans," he reasserted. His father paused at his tone, which had hardened when he repeated himself. There was some guilt in him when he saw his father like that. The man wasn't all shell, wasn't all heartless. He did just want to spend time with his son. Jacob let out an exhale, "Tomorrow night, but not tonight."
"Tomorrow?" Dr. Hutchenson's first reaction was to frown at being the one postponed but he reemerged with a smile shortly after, "If you insist." His wave appeared and just as quickly as he had come, he'd gone. Jacob stared at the empty doorway, hearing the clip of Phillip and his father's feet down the hall to the main door. Usually his father put up more of an argument than that. Was the old man starting to become agreeable? It was hard to imagine the old fox giving up so eas--
The thought made him call Jessie to check on him.
| |
|
Jessie
Pitiful Poster
member is offline
From a boy to a man
Joined: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 24
Karma: 2 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #19 on Oct 23, 2011, 4:41pm » | |
When Roan finally gave that reply of how different Jessie and Jacob seemed to be, Jessie withheld the small laugh and merely arched a single brow in curiosity. Roan was a strange little man and Jessie began to wonder if he, too, were gay. The thought had him grinning all the way out of the residence and into the truck.
Jessie climbed into the passenger seat, and took up his usual position of feet up on the dashboard and his body slouched in the seat. "Really." He muttered and began to laugh. As hard as he tried not to laugh, he simply couldn't help himself. "I have my commercial license, yes." He managed to answer, still holding his stomach and quietly laughing.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and it startled him from his mild form of hysteria. In a bright mood, with a smile upon his face, he pulled the phone from his pocket and flipped it open. "Hey Jacob, you're not calling to cancel our date, are you?" It was said in a teasing voice and Jessie waited for Jacob's response.
| |
|
Jacob Hutchenson
Somewhat Respectable Poster
member is offline
Joined: Dec 2010
Gender: Male
Posts: 27
Location: Rhydin
Karma: 4 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #20 on Oct 27, 2011, 8:53am » | |
Jacob sighed in relief when he heard Jessie's voice and tried to sound more casual than alarmed when he had first dialed the number, "No, nothing like that. I was just checking to see when your shift would be over."
He stepped away from the study and down the hall to his bedroom. His phone was pressed between his shoulder and ear as he unbuttoned his shirt, pulled out of it and dropped it in the laundry basket. Something slightly more casual, a light-weight dark blue sweater. The change of clothes wasn't exactly important, but it made him feel refreshed and cleaner somehow. That new energy was put into him by shedding the skin of clothes he had been wearing all day.
"I was just talking to dad is all. He wants to see me tomorrow night." He rubbed the sleepy seed out of his eye and sat on the edge of his bed to unlace his shoes, "He didn't mention anything about you but I'm assuming."
Jessie's phone beeped. There was a call on the other line now. Dr. Hutchenson was ringing.
| |
|
Jessie
Pitiful Poster
member is offline
From a boy to a man
Joined: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 24
Karma: 2 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #21 on Nov 24, 2011, 8:13am » | |
"Roan and I are heading into the garage now. It'll only be about a half hour or so and I'll be on my way." Jessie was smiling, even through the news that Jacob and his dad had plans for the following day. "Hang on Jacob, I've got a call." Jessie pulled the phone from his ear and didn't recognize the number that was beeping through. "Don't hang up, it's probably a telemarketer." He pressed a button on the phone and put it back to his ear. "This is Jessie," he answered and gave Roan a questioning look.
"Jessie? This is Jessie, isn't it?" His father didn't sound as detached and proper as his son. There was a sort of familiarity his voice took with the listener. Like old friends who ask to borrow a lot of money.
"Yes," A frown formed between his brows when he answered slowly. "Who is this?"
"Who is this?" The chuckle behind the voice sounded amused and he endeared Jessie with a deepened tone, "Dr. Hutchenson, of course, your employer. I hate to be calling you this late. Is now a bad time?"
"D-dr Hutchenson?" Jessie was even more confused now and he sat up straight in his seat. "W-what can I do for you? Hang on a minute; I've got a call on the other line." Before the man could reply, Jessie was pulling his phone from his ear and pressing the button to get back to Jacob. "It's your dad," he spoke rapidly, his heart rate speeding up as he began to panic. "Jacob, what do I say to him?"
Jacob blinked when he heard Jessie say that and his eyebrows lowered and he mouthed, with the ghost of his voice behind it, "What does he want?" In Jessie's ear, Dr. Hutchenson was continuing, "It seems that there were some mix ups in my shipping department and a rather important client of mine is very upset. I need you and Roan to go back to that house and deliver five more cases of that wine you did earlier today. You see his daughter is getting married so the delivery can't wait."
"I don't know," Jessie responded and clicked back over to hear Dr. Hutchinson’s direction. "But sir," he tried to interject, but knew it would do no good. "We'll deliver those crates. Yes sir. I'm sorry about the mix up. I'm sure we delivered those earlier." He turned and narrowed his eyes on Roan, listening and shaking his head. "We'll turn around right now. Goodbye Dr. Hutchenson." Another press of his thumb and he was back to Jacob. "He said we messed up the wine order for his client's daughter's wedding and we have to deliver more wine to them tonight." Jessie sighed and ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair. "I promise it won't take long. We can skip the restaurant and have take out at your place?"
| |
|
Jessie
Pitiful Poster
member is offline
From a boy to a man
Joined: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 24
Karma: 2 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #22 on Nov 24, 2011, 8:14am » | |
"You did... you did. Like I said, the shipping department made a mistake, not you and Roan. The client contacted me today in such a fit," Dr. Hutchenson almost had the sound of sincere apology in his voice if not for the smile that hinted at the end of his tone, "Thank you Jessie." When Jacob heard what Jessie said he shook his head, feeling a familiar sort of disappointment in his mouth. He should have known his father would have done this. There was a small shrug of his shoulders, "You're going to be gone almost all night, you know that...don't you?" Jessie had to know what his father was doing.
"We'll make it quick, I promise." Jessie nodded to Roan as he turned the truck around and headed back to the warehouse for more of the wine. "I'm sorry Jacob. I promise, we won't be more than an hour tops."
"Goodnight," Jacob shut his cell phone and dropped into his seat at the study, so silent he could head the grandfather clock ticking in the background, it's pendulum silently swaying inside its case. He picked up the phone and called his father, who made only a small show of being surprised that he was called. "Dad? Yea, it's Jacob. I suppose we're seeing each other tonight, then." If he knew his father, Jessie and Roan wouldn't be back so easily.
"But Jacob..." his protestations fell on a dead phone line and Jessie slowly closed the phone. He sunk back down into his seat and just felt like crying. Jacob was angry, that was for certain. Jessie just didn't know if he were angry at Jessie for screwing up somehow or Dr. Hutchenson. Either way, Jessie felt miserable. "Let's hurry this up," he grumbled to Roan. "And make sure it's right this time."
| |
|
Jacob Hutchenson
Somewhat Respectable Poster
member is offline
Joined: Dec 2010
Gender: Male
Posts: 27
Location: Rhydin
Karma: 4 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #23 on Nov 28, 2011, 9:36pm » | |
"Seriously?" Roan sighed and leaned his head against the cold window pane of the driver's side. He hated this. "For fuck's sake!" he said, the heel of his hand hit the driver's wheel and then his eyes moved over to Jessie's, "I wanted to watch the game tonight, did you know that? Don't you go ruining all my nights like this."
Roan was blaming Jessie, though he knew why but couldn't prove it. There was just this feeling in his gut that said if the kid wasn't the one working beside him this night then none of this would be happening to him. Heck, he'd already be home, feet propped up, cold beer in hand watching the game and throwing angry fistfuls of peanut shells at his large, brick-shaped tv set when it didn't go his way. Oh, and he'd do it all the way God intended: naked with his socks on. None of that was happening now. It was just him with the boss', son's boyfriend wasting time on another order. He raked a hand through his red hair and put on the gas to speed them on the way to Dr. Hutchenson's house to pick up the additional cases, periodically swearing as he did so.
Dr. Hutchenson wasn't home, he had gone on to his son's house and the doorman, Phillip, had let him in and had only been a pace or so ahead of him to announce his arrival to Jacob just before the old, wiry man shot in right behind him. Dr. Hutchenson gave a tight smile to Jacob, who did not rise from where he lounged on the couch, reading a book. His gaze lifted up to the sight of his father and he shut his book, staring at him expectantly.
"Aren't you glad to be spending time with me again? Aren't you glad plans have changed? I am."
"No." He shut his book at set it on the night stand beside him, "I don't like being manipulated, father."
"What do you mean, manipulated? How could I possibly manipulate you?"
Jacob sighed and one of his hands pinched, just about the nose where the brows meet as if he were taming a head ache, "Wouldn't it be more pleasant if we could just be straightforward with one another and say what we meant to for a change?"
| |
|
Jessie
Pitiful Poster
member is offline
From a boy to a man
Joined: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 24
Karma: 2 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #24 on Dec 1, 2011, 10:20pm » | |
Jessie was about to respond with "seriously" but Roan's outburst cut him short. His mouth gaped and his eyes grew wide as he stared at his partner in shock. This couldn't be happening. First Jacob was angry, and now Roan. The accusation sat silent and heavy between them as Roan swerved through traffic to get to Dr. Hutchensen's house. As usual, Jessie held on for dear life. But this time, he set his jaw and remained silent.
A good five minutes passed before Jessie turned his head to look over at Roan. "You're right, no reason for both of our nights to be ruined. After we pick up the cases, let me drop you off and I'll take the shipment myself. I can drive this beater and I've got my weight belt and dolly." He hoped that Roan would take the peace offering.
To add insult to injury, sleet began to fall lightly upon the trucks windows with a smattering sound. Jessie put his hands up and ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair and squeezed his skull between his hands. Everything was falling apart. Maybe, just maybe, it was Jessie's fault.
Roan looked over at Jessie, surprise and hope dawning in his eyes. "Really?"
Jessie merely nodded and waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah. It'll be alright."
Roan's temper dissipated rather quickly and the pick up of goods was done without a hitch. The delivery forms were checked against the order forms four times before the pair jumped into the cab of the truck. This time, Jessie was at the wheel.
"Thanks, Jessie." Roan finally got out as they neared where Roan had parked his personal vehicle. And as Roan climbed out of the truck, he waved and smiled happily. "See you tomorrow, kid."
Jessie merely nodded, then steered the truck carefully back into traffic. The sleet gained in intensity as he drove along. He nearly held his breath until he pulled out of the bustle of traffic and onto the road that led to the home he was to deliver to. All the while, the events of the evening churned in his mind. From Dr. Hutchensen's too cheerful delivery of bad news, to Jacob's abrupt goodbye, to Roan's accusatory outburst. It was too much. Jessie's eyes watered, but he refused to let a tear drop fall.
The right front of the truck dipped suddenly, lurching Jessie nearly out of the driver's seat. He blinked to clear his eyes from the unshed tears and fought with the steering wheel. Gravity was winning. The tires crunched on gravel as the rear of the truck quickly followed in the dippy dance of the front tires. "No!" Jessie pulled hard to the right, trying to get the truck back onto the road. He grit his teeth, and pulled as hard as he could.
The went onto it's right two tires, the left two a foot above the pavement. Panic set in and Jessie realized the inevitable. The truck was going to tip, if not roll. And at the point of no return, Jessie closed his eyes and let go of the steering wheel.
The truck slammed into the steep embankment of the almost non-existant shoulder of the road with a loud bang. Jessie was like a rag-doll in the cab. Luckily for him, his seat belt held up. Glass shattered, flying across and striking Jessie in the face, neck and legs. He could hear the truck slide until it struck something hard.
Another lurch and suddenly Jessie was hanging upside down, his seatbelt keeping him from falling onto the roof of the cab. The truck finally came to a stop and Jessie hung there, moaning. White hot pain shot up his leg and through his right hand to the elbow. When he finally did open his eyes, he shut them again quickly to block out the image of the jagged femur that jutted through his pants in a large stain of red.
He fought the waves of nausea and pain to reach into his pocket. He needed help and he needed it right now. His swollen hand wrapped around the phone and he brought it out. Opening his eyes only long enough to glance at the touch screen, his thumb tapped the last number called: Jacob.
His eyes fluttered closed and he went limp. The phone clattered to the roof of the cab. And then there was nothing but silence and the slow, steady drip of blood as it landed next to the phone.
| |
|
Jacob Hutchenson
Somewhat Respectable Poster
member is offline
Joined: Dec 2010
Gender: Male
Posts: 27
Location: Rhydin
Karma: 4 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #25 on Dec 6, 2011, 12:46pm » | |
"Do you always insist on being this way?" His father shot to him as he dropped into one of the chairs of the study, "Why couldn't you just smile and enjoy all of the things around you? How did I have such a dour son?"
Jacob rolled his eyes and let out an exhale, "Was I suppose to be your spitting image? It's not too late to adopt. You have the money for it. Hell, just grow your own clone."
His father raked a hand through his salt and peper hair. His tan skin sometimes looked as though it were too tight on his face, showcasing his teeth towards Jacob even when he didn't smile. Victorious, his mood was not to be dimmed by the undercut of Jacob's tone. His voice marched on, "You're quite funny when you're not trying to do it at my expense so much. So what shall we do tonight? Have a drink or two together? Recall the time our relationship was better and theorize on what drove it apart?"
You. He thought it, but the words didn't come forward. Jacob just stared at his father, his eyes making a tenuous shift in their sockets to see what the time was. The few minutes between them already felt like hours. It was going to be a long night. A drink didn't sound like a bad suggestion.
His cellphone buzzed in his pocket. His father had been preparing to continue their conversation but Jacob pulled it up and saw it was Jessie. A small hope sprang up in him, hidden underneath the solid, still expression of his face. Hinted at by a slight change in the light of his eyes. Perhaps Jessie had already finished. Perhaps his father's plans for the night had been defeated. Finally, his father could be defeated. When he picked up his phone, however, there was nothing.
"Hello?"
And more nothing. Not the sound of Jessie's bouncy voice, masking a deeper joy, in the speaker at his ear. Not music but wind and odd noises. For a moment he thought it was an accidental dial, sometimes cell phones could occasionally give people a pocket phonecall. But Jessie's phone was like his. A flip phone. It was next to impossible to accidentally dial.
"You had Jessie and Roan do another order tonight, didn't you?" Jacob said, slowly looking over at his father with a blame much deeper than before.
His father met it with a knowing nod, "Yes, there were some wine bottles they had to deliver tonight to an old friend. Accident with the shipping paper, you know how that goes. Wedding is tomorrow, it couldn't wait." Slowly, the fox his father was, picked up that something different was occuring. Some other credit was being served to him.
"Do you have Roan's phone number?"
"Of course." At this point, Jessie's father was looking more tense. Father and son might have been estranged but he was gathering from the air, from the boy he raised however he could, that something was wrong, "What is it?"
"Jessie just called but he's not saying anything. It's not an accident either," Jacob signaled with his own phone, "he's got a flip like me. Give me Roan's number, I just want to check to make sure something has happened." In their line of work it had been an issue in the past to be hijacked by other black market and underhanded salesmen. Best part about robbing from a thief was they couldn't go to the police about it. Was Jessie trying to communicate that? His father read Roan's number out loud and Jacob dialed it in.
"Yes, Sir?" The game was turned down low and he was surpressing the sound of beer.
"Roan, are you with Jessie finishing up that order? I got a weird call from him..." Now, far from the site of the delivery, it began to rain. Soon it would morph into cold bullets.
"No, Jessie said he was gonna handle it himself, Sir. He's got all the certs for it. The weather came down so he mighta had to pull over or something. Maybe no reception?"
But the call had come in clear, "Thanks." Jacob hung up and looked at his father, pale, "There's an issue. I think Jessie and the truck are in trouble." Differences aside, father and son did not leisurely linger. From where the both of them sat they were propelled on their feet. They put on their coats, sprinted into Jacob's grey toyota and spun along the route. His father was telling him where to go, he knew the path. They passed it once, it was impossible to see with the hail and mixture of rain coming down. The second time around, however, the weather had gotten subdued, had started to move on to the more southern ends of things.
Had opened up and revealed a moving truck, belly up like a defeated kill at the bottom of the hill. They had to part a quarter of the mile down since there wasn't a shoulder and then sprinted towards the truck, down the hill as though the two of them were racing. His father was already calling his people. Was there anything in the truck that the police shouldn't know about? Could they report this as they ought to? His father was figuring it out. Jacob was kneeling on the ground, scooping out glass with his hands and reaching over to shake Jessie's shoulder.
"Wake up." Please... just don't be dead.
| |
|
Jessie
Pitiful Poster
member is offline
From a boy to a man
Joined: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 24
Karma: 2 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #26 on Dec 11, 2011, 4:51pm » | |
Jessie weaved in and out of consciousness; plagued with bouts of nausea when he was awake. He hung there, too weak to move. It was all he could do to breathe. The blood had began to coagulate and the drip became non-existant.
Is this what it's like to die? He wondered as a cold chill drew gooseflesh down his arms. The world spun upside down and Jessie was back out.
When he awoke, there was noise around him. He could hear the crunching of glass as somebody either walked across it or swept it up. He couldn't be sure. He blinked, someone touched his shoulder. His eyes narrowed and then shut again. He couldn't see properly, something was in his eyes. Opening his eyes again, he heard a familiar voice, but it sounded like it were in slow motion.
"Jacob?" He breathed out and closed his eyes. "Please, get me out of here. Jacob, please."
His eyes closed and he went unconscious once again.
| |
|
Jacob Hutchenson
Somewhat Respectable Poster
member is offline
Joined: Dec 2010
Gender: Male
Posts: 27
Location: Rhydin
Karma: 4 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #27 on Jan 14, 2012, 3:22pm » | |
"Dad, hand me your pocket knife," he said, thrusting his hand backward. His father always had that pocket knife on him, mostly because it was carved out of illegal ivory some fifty years ago and it was a bragging piece he loved to pull out for unnecessary jobs. It made someone ask if it was real and then his father could go into the story about the knife, boasting about its myths, the blood spilled on it and just how it was he came to acquire it. Either his father was stunned by the blood and severity of the issue or he was compelled by the demand in his son's voice-- he gave up the knife instantly and Jacob began working on cutting Jessie out of the seat belt hold.
"He needs a doctor," his father said, stepping back as Jacob pulled Jessie out of the collapsed truck. It was like a large hollow cockroach that had been smashed. Insidious and unwanted in its death.
"I know that!" Jacob snapped at his father and then waved at the phone, "Call up your doctor friend. Call in your favor, we're taking him there now."
"He's just a friend Jacob, is he worth the risk."
"He's worth it! Now get on your phone!"
Jessie had been laid in one of the guest bedrooms of Dr. Sandlin. The bed probably cost more than any car Jessie had ever owned and it was furnished with the same decadence his father's home had. It wasn't surprising that his father ran with crowds of overpaid, luxurious men. A clock with a pendulum hung on the wall, its orb swinging silently back and forth until it tolled. Jacob was asleep in the padded chair beside him. An IV drip was next to the bed and a private nurse would come in from time to time to check on them.
| |
|
Jessie
Pitiful Poster
member is offline
From a boy to a man
Joined: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 24
Karma: 2 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #28 on Jan 20, 2012, 12:35am » | |
Jessie's eyes fluttered opened to a bright, sunny day. The brightness was nearly blinding to his damaged eyes. He recalled the crash, and slowly began to move his fingers and toes, just to make sure that he could. Okay, ouch, moving those toes hurt. Lifting his head, he squinted at his leg, only barely managing to see the white blur of the cast on said leg. His arms seemed to work just fine, so he smoothed over the coverlet to the coarse fiberglass cast. He could feel it better than he could see it.
Laying his head back down, he began to drift off once again. The amount of pain killers in his system made sleeping very easy. And as he dozed off, he wondered where in the hell he was.
Hours later, his eyes opened with a pop. He gasped for air and clutched the now sweat soaked sheet beside him. It'd been a dream, but he relived the crash in the dream. His chest heaved as he looked around to get his bearings. Still, nothing more than blurs of white was all he could see. Something silvery was to one side of the bed and a dark shadow that could only be Jacob on the other.
Slowly he began to calm down, his breathing becoming more normal and his heart rate slowing. He still was wondering where he was. For the finery of the sheets he laid upon, he knew this wasn't Jacob's room. Jacob's room was furnished with darkly stained oak and the linens had much more color.
Jessie turned his head to try to focus on Jacob. Or, at least he hoped it was Jacob. Jessie remained silent, blinking, squinting and hoping that something, anything, would come into view.
| |
|
Jacob Hutchenson
Somewhat Respectable Poster
member is offline
Joined: Dec 2010
Gender: Male
Posts: 27
Location: Rhydin
Karma: 4 | | Re: When There is Little Risk Involved...
« Reply #29 on Feb 9, 2012, 5:59pm » | |
There was a half folded magazine balanced on the thigh of one of his legs when he had nodded off. His dreams were odd, distant, sterile like a medical lecture to the crowd. Normally there was more to them, something that reminded him of the way Dali worked paint. Was his mind trying to keep him calm? A soft rustle in his ear work him up.
"Jessie?" He shifted and the magazine fell to the floor but he didn't reach for it. He scooted the chair closer to the edge of his bed and reached out to take his hand, "Can you hear me? You've been asleep for three days."
Not knowing how much Jessie yearned for the details, he found himself hesitant to say much more. Would Jessie even be able to remember this conversation, given the state he was in? He stared at him long and reached over to touch his brow, hoping that it would reassure him. He was bruised up pretty bad but the doctor had been right, the swelling had gone down. Jacob was surprised how much better someone looked once the swelling went down. Jessie just looked like he had barely survived a hate crime instead of being on the edge of dead.
His father had been... complicated about the whole thing. In a way Jessie's accident had brought them closer together. He would be surprised if Jessie would ever continue working for his father, given the outcome and the now painfully apparent relationship he had with Jessie. It wasn't that Roan had said anything but he couldn't keep himself away from Jessie's bedside. It had been Jacob and Jacob alone that had blown what cover their relationship had out the window. Now what? His father had said nothing, perhaps he was waiting for Jessie to be out of the woods before he did. Then the axe might fall but for now he'd be by Jessie.
| |
| |
|
![[Home]](http://images.proboards.com/new/menu/home.png "[Home]")
![[New Topics]](http://images.proboards.com/menu/topics.png "[New Topics]")
![[Help]](http://images.proboards.com/new/menu/help.png "[Help]")
![[Search]](http://images.proboards.com/new/menu/search.png "[Search]")
![[Login]](http://images.proboards.com/new/menu/login.png "[Login]")
![[Register]](http://images.proboards.com/new/menu/register.png "[Register]")
![[Search This Thread]](http://images.proboards.com/new/buttons/search2.png "[Search This Thread]")
![[Share Topic]](http://images.proboards.com/new/buttons/share.png "[Share Topic]")
![[Print]](http://images.proboards.com/new/buttons/print.png "[Print]")
Logged