Jack's Rebirth Pt. 03

Yeah, yeah, I know. Finally, what took so long, it's about time. Now that we got all the disclaimers out of the way, here it is. This was a long time coming, I know. I apologize. Sometimes shit happens. No excuses, just all kinds of reasons. I do promise that any future multi-part stories I write will have everything done before submission. Now, part 3.

Please, enjoy, I hope.

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The lovers went to get the kids from school. They were silent for the most part, but Gloria kept looking at Jack to make sure he didn't disappear. Occasionally, she would reach over and touch his arm, or brush his cheek. At the traffic lights, she would wiggle over and kiss his cheek. And the lady could wiggle. It as all Jack could do to concentrate on driving.

They arrived at the school and waited for the kids to come out. They talked and learned a few intimate things about each other. Jack said 'He couldn't wait to take her as his wife,' and Gloria chuckled and said if he hadn't been so mean, she would have gone to 'inspect' his apartment before the ceremony.

But then she confided that as bad as she wanted to consumate their love, she wanted him to think only good things about her because of her past. She was still reticent about what had happened to her, even though he knew just about all of it. So he told her he wanted to know everything about her. It would not change his mind, but he wanted no surprises. She hesitated, then nodded her head.

Her parents had moved from Puerto Rico and located to New York. She was born in Brooklyn and after some minor scuffles with the law and gangs, her parents picked them all up and they moved to Houston, Texas. She grew up there and got in a with a bad crowd. Unfortunately, so did her parents, and at age 16, she became an orphan, slipping through the cracks and winding up on the street.

That was where she ran into Marcus Watson. Tall, handsome, smooth, slick. He swept her off her feet at an after hours club and, with a little alcohol, grass, and a dose of Ecstasy, he got her into bed. And into the hot tub, and the back seat of the cab, and the hood of a parked car. She wound up pregnant, and they were married. He tried passing her around to friends, but at the third set of crunched balls, and the resulting sexual assault, she fled and disappeared. She stayed clean until she had her baby, then she tried to get a job, and finally, dealing grass to make ends meet. Little Micheal was three years old when she got busted. They almost took her child then, but they didn't know about him. Her friend was babysitting him, and when she was busted, it was a small amount, and she got off with probation. But an arrest record.

So here they were in life.

I said I didn't care. Grinning, I said I had done some pretty bad things in life. I had cheated on a spelling test in grammar school, me and my best friend Louie had 'borrowed' a car (at age 14) from Louie's parents and taken a joy ride. We ran into a mailbox and got caught by the police. That got me grounded for two months.

Then I got hold of some beer at my high school prom and was busted for being intoxicated.

My parents were not pleased. I got grounded for four months and never left the house after coming home from school. The lawn never looked so good. My mother constantly followed me around, and we went to confession every Saturday.

I was staring at my hands, trying to come up with anything else bad I had done in my youth. Finally I moved my eyes to look at Gloria. She was staring at me, wide eyed and gasping. Finally she said, "THAT'S IT? THAT'S THE WORST YOU COULD COME UP WITH??"

"UHHH, yeah. I was a horrible teenager."

"Oh, for the love of God, you're such a choir boy, you Boy Scout!!" But she was grinning like a lunatic. She looked at me with a smile on her face.

"Thank you for trying to make me feel better about myself. You're such a softie. But my life is what it is. I make no excuses. I did the best I could with the circumstances I had."

She stared at me.

"You, on the other hand, are an absolute angel. You're too good to be true, Jack Stone. And you're concerned enough to try to make me feel better about myself."

She continued to stare at me.

"If I didn't love you before, I do now. You are absolutely the best thing I've ever had happen to me." The look in her eyes scared me. I only hoped I was good enough for this woman.

With that, the bell rang and the doors opened to divulge the hordes of kids looking to find their parents.

We got out of the truck and walked towards the crowd, and greeted the kids. Marilyn clung to her mother, and Micheal hugged her and kissed her. Then he turned to me.

"How's the truck runnin, Mr. Jack?"

"Running fine, son. I try to take good care of it."

"It always looks like you do. My buddy's think it looks neat, sir."

Whoa, I'm now 'sir'. I guess I've moved up a few notches.

He pressed on. "Mom, there are T-ball tryouts Saturday. Do you think I could try?"

By now, we were all in the truck and strapped in. I was totally oblivious to everything but Gloria was equivocating.

"I don't know, sweetheart. Don't you think you're a little young for that?" Suddenly I was tuned into the conversation and turned to look at her. She appeared to be a little shook, almost panic stricken. The little boy in the back seat was pretty much devastated.

I took a chance.

"I was about his age when I tried out for T-ball. It was a lot of fun." She looked at me.

"But what about the cost? And I don't know anything about baseball. Besides, he needs to get a haircut Saturday." I looked in the rear view mirror.

Yup, totally devastated. I took another chance. A bigger one.

"Tell you what. Let me take him. We can go get a haircut, go to tryouts, and then run some errands. Bond a little bit. What do you say? I know just the place to get his haircut."

She wasn't too sure about this. After all, I was a white guy and her son had a decent Afro going. But I had an ace up my sleeve. My good friend Odell Thomas.

Gloria looked at me and I could see she was turning it over in her mind. But Michael was on a mission.

"PLEASE, MOM; I get good grades, I have good reports from school, I'm never been in any trouble. Please??"

I echoed- "Please mom??"

If looks could kill..... But she smiled and shook her head.

She heaved a sigh and said, "Alright, you can go. But I don't want any weird outcome. Understand me?"

We went home, picking up pizza for dinner. Mom hugged her pseudo grandchildren (not yet, give me time) and set the table, holding some aside for my dad. We talked about the upcoming weekend, and the pending tryouts.

In T-ball, you put your name on a list and then tryout at the different skills- throwing, catching running the bases, and of course, hitting. Then coaches take turns picking different players until everyone is chosen. It is pretty much a popularity contest, with most dads choosing their own kids and their kid's friends.

Friday, I had to take the sergeant's exam, as there were a few upcoming openings and if I was going to pop the question, a little more cash couldn't hurt. So I went home and cracked the books again and studied til well after midnight. I had been studying for more than two months, long before I bumped into Gloria, and my new romantic flame just gave me added impetus.

I got up Friday morning and went to work, then at 10:00 a.m. I signed out to go take the test.

Four hours later, I turned in my answer sheets, and tried to breath again. I hit the reports and backlogged files as best as I could, and cleared my desk for the weekend. I swung by my folk's place, and picked up Gloria and we went to get the kids. On the way to the school, she asked me how my day had been.

I finally told her about the Sergeant's exam that I had taken that day. She looked at me and her eyes got hard. She turned and started contemplating the side window scenery again.

'Hmmm, she hadn't done that in a while. Am I in trouble???'

The answer came in flash out of the blue. She never turned to look at me.

"I wish you had told me about that. I don't think we should keep secrets from each other."

I was about to make some stupid remark, like 'It's no big deal', or 'It's my career and I need to take these risks to advance it' or some such.

But for some reason, I knew it sounded trite, like something Lauren would throw out. I took a breath and thought, then said, using her latest term of endearment,"Sweetheart, you're right. I was just thinking to make a little more pay for our future, yours, mine and the children. I should have discussed it with you. Forgive me, please. If I get a slot, I'll turn it down. I swear to God."

She turned and stared at me.

"The hell you will. My husband will never walk away from a challenge, and neither will the father of my children."

Well, I guess that takes care of that. She had decided. I could live with it. I started thinking of our life together. She was a far cry from the sanctimonious, self-centered bitch I had been married to. She was strong willed but compassionate. I just had to make sure I was a part of the compassion.

And feisty!

Wooo, this girl was feisty. I hope to God I never got on her bad side. Vulnerable, too. She was still very much a word in progress. BUT--

She would be MY work in progress. Yeah. I will love to live with that. I smiled a huge smile at her.

She stared at me. "WHAT? What's so funny?" she said.

"You are, sweetheart. I love you." She mumbled something about me being a dumb shit and turned to look out the side window (again).

But she had a grin on her face.

I'm learning, I'm learning.

With that we arrived at the school and parked. Ten minutes later the bell rang and Friday arrived, depositing the children for collection. Our two raced over with calls to 'See you Monday' and 'Catch you at practice' to their friends. The routine buckle ups were carried out and as Mom and I secured ourselves, shouting out 'CONTACT!', it was answered with cries of 'CONTACT' echoing from the back seat. Gloria shook her head but returned 'Contact' to my crew which brought renewed shrieks and giggles. To which my lady friend rolled her eyes and, looking upwards, said, in a low voice, "Great, now I'm got three kids!"

We rolled home to my folks house and met up with Grandma. We went in and everyone washed up while I got ready to supervise homework. My dad arrived, we said grace and talked about our day. Gloria started work Monday and that got glanced over with talk of Marilyn attending a birthday party, and Micheal's 'minor league' debut. But this quickly paled to Gloria's announcement that I had taken the Sargent's exam. Lots of congratulations, 'it's about time' and wows were thrown about.

But the best compliment was the proud grin on my lady's face as she sat and basked in my obvious embarrassment.

I so loved this woman.

We finished dinner and sat for a while. Then I said I had to go home and get a good night's sleep for tomorrow's 'chores'. She laughed and led me to the front door, kissed me, said 'Thank you again, sweetheart', and shooed me out the door. I drove home very happy with my life.

Saturday dawned clear and cool. I awoke, triple-ssed, and left for my folks house. I pulled up and went in to bustling crowds of people eating breakfast and looking for misc. clothing items. We finally got everyone situated, and Micheal and I left with cries of 'good luck' and 'knock 'em dead' from my mom and dad, and 'have a good day, sweetie' with a hug and kiss from his mother.

Micheal ran to the truck, climbed into the back, and noticed his seat was missing.

"Where's my seat, Jack?"

"Up here, buddy. I won't tell if you don't. But it will be nicer if we can talk man to man, rather than over my shoulder. Just snap yourself in and I'll try not to wreck my truck. O.K.?"

He grinned. Little boys liked breaking the rules and he knew I was a straight up guy, by the book.

So he buckled himself in and sat there grinning.

"Where to first?" he asked.

"Well, first, I think us guys need a drink. What do you think?" I said, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

"A real drink??" he said. We were on our way to the practice field and would pass by Mc Donald's on the way, so I whipped into the drive thru. I pulled up in line and looked over at him.

"What were you expecting, a beer?"

"Well, no....Not really. But you did say a drink, not a coke......".

I studied him as we moved up a spot.

"Ever had a 'frozen coke'?"

He looked at me like I had two heads. "No, aren't all cokes cold??"

"Not cold, frozen."

"No" he said.

I thought 'You're in for a treat'.

I rolled up to the order screen, and ordered a large frozen coke, and a medium frozen coke. I pulled forward, paid, and pulled to the second window. I retrieved our 'drinks' and handed the smaller one to Michael. He looked askance at it and asked, "What is this?"

"Good stuff. I love it. Know this- I will never give you anything that's not good for you. I will try to never offer you something that I don't think tastes good. Having said that, your mother may have different ideas. We'll work on that. Now, take a taste, and tell me what you think."

He looked at me as we pulled out to the street. Hesitantly, he took a small sip. This was followed by a much larger sip as his eyes widened, and he turned to me.

"WOW! This is great." Back to sipping.

"Slow down, buddy. Don't drink it all at once." I was laughing. I think I had him in my corner.

We pulled into the ball field and he put down the half empty cup of Coke. I was studying the little boy holding a plastic kid's ball glove. The cheap kind you find in a discount store?

"What you got there, bud?"

He looked at it and turned to me.

"It's my ball glove. Mom got it for me where she worked about a year ago." He just looked at it, not enthused at all.

I thought for a moment, and came to a decision.

"Here," I said, reaching under my seat and pulling out my old Rawlings glove. My dad had given it to me at about the same age as he was now.

"My dad gave this to me. It's an Al Kaline model. He was my dad's hero growing up."

"Who? I've never heard of him."

I chuckled. 'Before your time,' I thought.

"Well, when we get home, you can Google him and talk to 'grandpa' about him. He was Mr. Tiger. Played for the Detroit Tigers, same mascot as the Conroe High School. That's why my dad got it for me."

He looked at the glove, then turned to me. Hesitantly.

"Don't you think your nephew Daniel would want it?"

"Naaah, his dad got him a Derek Jeter model."

His eyes brightened.

"I've heard of him. He was really good a long time ago."

Smart-ass. Why did I feel so old?

"So it's mine?" he asked.

"If you want it."

He looked at the glove. Then he looked at me.

"Thanks,.... Dad."

AWW, now he made me cry. I reached out and hugged him.

'We're working on that, kid,' I thought.

We went it to practice. They broke up into groups and the kids were put through their paces, one bunch throwing, another catching, a third running bases, then some hitting exercises, and finally doing minor stretching exercises. Then they rotated and took turns repeating the different drills. All the time the different coaches took notes.

There were girls trying out, too. Far cry from my time playing.

Then the coaches drew names of the different players till everyone was picked. Micheal was picked for the Tigers. Fitting, I thought. He was over-joyed.

He got a baseball cap, with the Detroit Tigers logo on it, and I bought one for myself, his mother, his sister, and my mom and dad. We piled into the truck sporting our new head gear, and he was on cloud nine.

"Where to now, Jack?" he asked. "Haircut!" I said.

His smile slackened to a grin.

"O.K." he murmured.

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We drove to Odell Thomas's barbershop. Odell's, as it is known, had been around for many years til Odell bought it about eight years ago, and spruced it up. It was an icon in the Black community, and Odell was well know.

He had been a starting guard on my high school football team and gone on to attend Texas A&M University, playing varsity football and thought to be a high draft choice for the NFL. Then an unseen blocker blew up his knee and that was it. He graduated with a degree in business and became the consumate barber.

He did a lot of community work and had friends all over, in sports, movies, and politics.

We got out of the truck and went in to the barber shop. Three gentlemen were cutting hair and laughing. Jazz playing in the background. Three other gentlemen sitting against the wall, waiting their turns. Odell was styling a gentleman's Afro with his back to us as we came in. The conversation died with everyone staring at us, and only the music remained. It got cold quick, and not because of the A/C. Odell stopped what he was doing and turned, looking none too happy. This quickly changed as he took in Micheal and then me. His face split into a massive grin.

"MY MAN! Long time no see!" He came to me and smothered me in a bear hug. Then he broke it and took my hand and shook it with a sad smile on his face.

"I'm sorry to hear what the bitch did to you, Jack. May she rot in hell." Then his gaze fell to Michael again and he said, "Little man, what brings you here?"

"Odell, this is Micheal Ortiz. His mother is a 'friend' of mine. He wants to get a haircut but isn't sure what he wants. So I thought Texas's best ethnic barber would be the man to talk to. The fact that you're also a good friend of mine didn't hurt, so ... here we are."

Micheal was gobsmacked and couldn't stop staring at the two of us.

Grinning, Odell turned to his customers and the other three barbers, and said, "This, gentlemen, is my very good friend Detective Jonathan Stone. The only white man on my wall of honor." He swept his left arm to show the pictures on the wall behind us. The customers and the other barbers stared at us.

There were many, many framed, autographed photos, both black and white and color. Emmitt Smith, Deion Saunders, Hakeem Olajuwon, Jim Brown, Neil deGrasse Tyson, Micheal Strahan from down in Houston, Lester Holt from the time he had been here during the hurricane, Senator Corey Booker of New Jersey, Congressman Bennie Thompson, several local politicos, Mayor Sylvester Turner from Houston, Dwayne Johnson, Will Smith, Kevin Hart, and there, in the middle, was a framed newspaper page from the Conroe Courier. Autographed in pen was a photo of yours truly, a grinning teen-aged young man holding a football, in a jersey with the number 24 on it. Below the photo was a small wooden table with the above mentioned football on it.

"This young man caught the winning touchdown against our arch-nemesis the Woodlands Highlanders at the home coming game. Eleven years ago." Several comments, ranging from 'I remember that' to 'Great catch, young man!' and several grins and thumbs up were evident. My best friend Louis Vallone was quarterback, and Odell had thrown the block on the Highlander player which sprung me clear to make the catch.

Meanwhile, Odell had finished with his customer and was helping Micheal up into the chair. A gentleman seated against the wall raised his voice, saying he was next. Odell motioned to him, saying, "Calm down, Lucius. This young man obviously needs a good style. Besides, I'll do yours for free. How's that?". Lucius immediately chuckled, and said 'I can live with that.'

Odell turned to Micheal and said, "Now then, little man, what did you have in mind?" I had moved over and took a seat next to Lucius. He smiled at me and offered his hand. I shook it and turned back to the impending haircut.