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Ch.2-The veteran.

Author: Francesca Write
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

JAMAL'S POINT OF VIEW

“Jamal Jones, w--”

“You’re depressed again, aren’t you?” Addison, or Addis, how I like to call my best friend and assistant, interrupts my greeting.

“No, I’m not.” I don't know why I deny it, maybe because I’m trying to convince myself that I’m ok, or that this time, the excruciating memories didn’t cause me as much pain as they did the last time, but what can change in a few hours?

“You answered your phone without looking who’s calling, so, you’re depressed.” He states, making a point, and a valid one because I usually look before I answer any calls.

“How is the family gathering?” I try to put the spotlights on him, even though I don’t think it's gonna work.

“Jamal, darling, don’t you try this reverse psychological thing on me. It’s not working.” I sigh heavily, not knowing what to say, and not wanting to talk about it.

“I’ll be fine as soon as I get out of this... Hell of a city.”

“I was thinking about that, and I want to talk to you, but please hear me out until the end before you get all crazy, ok?” His voice is pleading and that worries me right now.

“I don’t like the sound of that. I don’t wan--”

“Jamal, please, for me. Just listen.” He pleads, and I roll my eyes in defeat even though he can’t see me.

“Fine, but I don’t pro--”

“Perfect.” He interrupts me, making me chuckle.

“So, as I was saying, I was thinking about your... predicament, and I think it would be for the best to seek him out and talk to hi--”

“Nope! No! No! No! I don’t even want to think about--”

“You promised you'd listen, so listen!” He demands in a firm voice that I don’t accept from anybody else, but, which makes me cave.

I mean, I can listen. I won’t do it even if someone puts a gun to my head and threatens to pull the trigger, but I will listen.

“Fine. Go on, tell me your terrible idea.” I said in a sarcastic voice, making him scoff.

Sometimes I regret telling him, like right now, but it wasn’t much of a choice at the time. It was three years ago on the date when I found them together, and as usual, I got drunk out of my ass, and when I was balling my eyes out, Addis happened to come to my place because I didn’t answer the phone and he had to give me some papers, and being drunk, I told him everything. Well, as much as I could considering the fact that I passed out, but, he forced everything out of me the second day.

“It’s not terrible, actually I think that it’s the best idea I ever came up with. You need closure, Jamal, you need to heal, and only by talking to him will you get it.” He tries to explain in a pleading voice, but I don’t even consider it. Not for a freaking millisecond.

“I got my closure when I saw them together, I don’t need more, and I’m healing just fine. Yes, I have days when I get a bit depressed, but not all the time, and I’m seeing people. It will pass, I just need a little more time.” I reply, not believing one word, but wanting to from the bottom of my shattered heart.

“Ok, I think it’s time to be brutally honest with you. Your one-night stands, which I bet you can count on one hand, don’t count as seeing people, and besides that, I don’t know how the guy looks exactly, but from what you’ve told me, don’t think that I didn’t notice that every guy match his description, and if they don’t have the right skin tone, or the right hair color, height, or eyes, you don’t even give them a shot to introduce themselves. It’s been ten years, Jamal, and you’re not even close to getting over him. You still call his name in your sleep, for God’s sake!” He snaps, and I want to say that it’s not true, that I've been with countless men, that it was just a coincidence that they all looked like him, or that I don’t call his name in my sleep, but we both know that I would be lying because he heard me a couple of times when we watched movies and I fell asleep, and the fact that I can count them, on one hand, is because I need to keep my reputation clean, and not be labeled as a sex-crazed gay, but again, it would be a lie.

But I still won’t seek him out.

“Ok, maybe you’re right--” And I’m interrupted by his loud, exaggerated scoff, which forces me to admit defeat.

“Fine! You’re right! Happy?” I snap, and I swear that I can see him beaming.

“Over the moon. So?”

“I won’t seek him out. What if they are together? I can’t see them, I can’t... I don’t know what I’ll do if... and I can’t... please, Addis... no.” I finish the pleading session with tears in my eyes, and with that familiar excruciating pain that rips me apart.

“Oh, Jamal, sweety... I’ve never been in love, but I can see and hear that you’re suffering, so you need to do something, anything that will help you heal. At least a little bit...” He pleads in a sympathetic voice, and I let myself fall on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, cursing the day I met him, while the tears that I struggled to keep from falling are now painfully rolling down my temples.

“I’ll try dating. For real this time... but I can see them, neither of them. I hate them too much to face them... and I’ll be better once I come back home. And who knows? Maybe Santa will come this year and give me someone that will truly love me, and who will be able to fix me...” I trail off with hope in my broken, pained, soul, but my mind is filled with disbelief.

“I hope so. I never wrote Santa a letter, but I swear that once we end the call I’ll find a pen and a piece of paper and write him one.” He says in a very determined tone of voice, and I chuckle, knowing that he’ll do it.

“Thank you, Addis. I have to go now because I still have a few things to pack, and I can’t wait to get out of here.” I say, relieved that I’m leaving, and wanting to do it as soon as possible.

“Ok. I’m gonna get started on that letter, and please, drive safely.”

“I always do,” I reply, and he scoffs, and I smile, knowing what’s coming.

“I really don’t understand you. You can buy a plane, you can use mine, but you choose to drive. Do you know how many crazy people are on the roads these days? No to mention those crazy kids that throw bricks from bridges, and the truck drivers--”

“Addis, I’ll be fine. You know that I hate flying, and it’s only a five-hour long drive.” I try to calm him down, but he tsks his tongue, and I bet that he’s also shaking his head in disapproval.

“Call me if something happens, and go and check your tires and engine before you--”

“Yes, mom, I will,” I say jokingly, and he chuckles softly.

“I’ll let you be then. See you in a few days.”

“Ok, see you.” I greet back, then let out a breath of relief when the call ends.

Seek him out. As if! I would rather die slowly and painfully!

I let out another breath of relief when I finish packing, then another one when I finish placing my bags in the trunk of my car, and as I am about to get inside the car, I see a man, who looks homeless, around 40, maybe less, but the cold and dirt make him look older.

He's wearing a dirty pair of ripped jeans, and not in a fashionable way, and a hoodie, but by the way he’s embracing himself, I would say that the hoodie doesn’t help much with the cold. And over the dirty hoodie, there's a dog tag hanging, which tells me that he’s a veteran.

“Sorry, sir. Could you maybe give me some change?” He asks through clenched teeth due to the cold, and I remember that my wallet is in my trunk, and as much as I want to help him, I gotta go.

“I’m in a hurry. Next time.”

“That’s ok. Drive safe.” He says with a pained smile and turns to go.

I look inside the car, knowing that if I drive now, the chances of meeting them are slimmer, but...

“Wait!” I call for him, not able to walk away without helping him in some way.

“What?” He asks as he turns around, and I gesture for him to follow me as I go towards the trunk and get my wallet out.

“I’m sorry for being rude. I just... this city doesn’t bring me nice memories.” I try to excuse myself as I take every dollar in my wallet and hand it to him, and his eyes go wide, looking at me puzzled.

“Sir, you gave me...” He trails off as he tries to count the money, but it’s not so easy due to his shaking hands, and not because he’s drunk because his breath is clean, but because he’s cold, and that makes me wanna punch myself for even thinking of refusing to help him.

“More than a thousand. It’s too much.” He says as he keeps one bill and wants to hand me the rest, but I refuse.

“It’s not too much.” His blue lips from cold curled into a grateful smile that reached his cerulean green eyes, and out of nowhere, he pulled me into a hug.

“You are a good man, and you’ll be repaid for your kind deeds.” He says in a smooth voice, and I almost chuckle humorlessly and tell him that actually, the saying that suits me is no good deed remains unpunished.

“Take care of yourself and go to a hotel and get some rest,” I say as we break the embrace, and he nods.

“I will, but first, I need to help someone that helped me.” He says, and I can’t help but smile seeing the kindness in his eyes and the willingness to help someone else when he needs every penny that I gave him.

“You know what? Take this as well...” I trail off as I take my Rolex off, and place it in his hand.

“First, with the money I gave you, go and buy some clean clothes, take a bath, and only after that, take the watch to a pawnshop. You should get around one hundred thousand dollars on it. But don’t go like this because they won’t pay you the right amount.” I say as I gesture to his poor clothing, and he looks at me shocked.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he looks at the watch, then at me, and I nod.

“Very,” I say, sure of the fact that by giving him the shot of putting his life together, he’ll help other people as well.

“Now, I really need to go, but it was a pleasure meeting you,” I say wholeheartedly, and he nods with a gentle smile and grateful eyes.

“Thank you, sir, I---”

“No. I thank you,” I interrupted him, pointing at the dog tag.

“Yes... but still... thank you.” He says in a truly grateful tone, and I nod, then walk towards the driver’s door to get inside the car and get the Hell away from here.

“Drive safely, sir.”

“Be safe yourself, and I wish you all the best, and a Merry Christmas,” I say wholeheartedly as I get inside the car, and he nods, then, as fast as I can, I turn the engine on and start driving away from this doomed city.

Maybe they moved, I don’t know, but I don’t think so.

Anyway, better safe than sorry.

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