The Demarcation of Jack

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The Demarcation of Jack Page 27

by Blakely Bennett


  “I’m sorry. So sorry about last night. I don’t know if it was the pot or that I’m an incredible jerk but please forgive me, Jenna.” He reached out and touched her hand.

  “I’m so relieved to hear you say that,” she said with a slight smile. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

  “I dozed on and off.”

  “You never came in?”

  “I took a quick shower and used the bathroom but otherwise—”

  “Oh,” she said, not sure what to think. “So where do we go from here?”

  “I thought we could call them and ask them to lunch. It’ll give me a chance to apologize,” he said with a sigh.

  “Where does this leave us?”

  “In regards to what?”

  “In regards to us and them, I mean you said it was over. Is it over with them?”

  “Do you want it to be?” he asked.

  “I don’t know how to answer that question. I really wish we’d never started but now that we have, I want to see where it could go. Having said that, you and me,” she said, gesturing her hand back and forth between them, “is my main concern right now.”

  “I think you’re telling me the truth, I just don’t believe you.”

  “What? Jack, I’m tired,” she said, waving her arms above her and shaking her head. “You must be completely exhausted…” She turned away mumbling to herself, “…because what you just said was totally fucked up.”

  “You know, I don’t need much sleep.”

  “Tell me what we’re doing, Jack.”

  “Like you have no say in it?”

  “Do I? I don’t think so.”

  “I’m willing to try again, if they’re willing.”

  “They’ll be willing,” she said, feeling utter relief but staying low key. “I wonder what time it is.” She stood. Her tight hamstring from last night’s rendezvous caused her to falter on the way to check the time on her cell phone. “It’s almost eleven o’clock already,” she called out. “I can’t believe I slept this late.” She bent over to stretch her legs.

  “Call them.”

  “What time should I say?”

  “Two o’clock,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’m going to the store, I’ll be right back.” He traipsed to the door and opened it. He turned around and said, “Just tell them everything’s alright, okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll tell them,” she said, sitting on the bed by the telephone. She watched the door close and then picked up the receiver. Her heart began to beat fast as she waited for an answer on the other end.

  “Hey. I’ve been hoping you would call,” Summer said before she had a chance to speak.

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “Who else would be calling us on this phone?”

  “Right, sorry, I’m not quite with it yet.”

  “So, how’s Jack?”

  “He told me to tell you guys everything’s alright. Can you guys meet us for lunch at two o’clock? He wants to apologize.”

  “Marc,” Jenna could hear her say, “lunch at two okay?”

  “Sure, can I?” Marc said in the background.

  “Marc would like to speak to you. Here you go,” Summer said and then Jenna heard him take a breath.

  “How’s Jack doing? Are you guys okay?”

  “He’s in a funk and I’m in a fog. He did reach out to me, though. I don’t know.”

  “Last night meant so much to me,” he said softly. “Although it had a bizarre ending. I was looking forward to holding you all night.”

  “Oh,” she sighed. “I know. I was already asleep, so content. I felt so warm and protected in your arms.”

  “Are we all going to get beyond what’s happening for Jack?”

  “He says yes but—”

  “But you’re not sure.”

  “No, I’m not. Last night he said it was over and Marc, oh this is so fucked up, if this is over I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “I should go,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ll see you at two o’clock.”

  “Okay. Take care. Call us if you need us.”

  “Okay, bye,” she said, breaking down as she hung up the phone.

  She shambled to the bathroom and closed the door. She sat down on the toilet lid, cradled her head in the palms of her hands, and cried. “This is so fucked up,” she howled.

  When her crying subsided, she heard Jack return. She turned on the shower, peeled her robe away, and stepped into the water. Afterwards, she wearily plodded to the bedside and found him fast asleep.

  Jenna quietly dressed and moused her way to the balcony. She had the impulse to smoke a cigarette, but instead chose to watch the wedding taking place right below where she stood. She leaned on the railing and watched an elderly couple exchange wedding vows. Jack wanted us to renew our vows, she thought.

  The marrying couple faced each other under the flower-filled gazebo. Just them. No family or friends. Jenna didn’t know why but it made her feel like crying again. She heard the bathroom door shut and turned to see that Jack was out of bed. Falling back into the chair behind her, she pulled a cigarette out of the pack. She lit it and inhaled, immediately feeling lightheaded. Resting her head back, she blew out the smoke. Startled by the door, she turned to see Jack staring at her with an incredulous expression.

  “What are you doing?” Jack said, running his fingers through his hair and squinting into the light of day.

  “I ought to think it would be obvious,” she said, inhaling again.

  “Jenna, come on. Don’t,” he said, taking the cigarette away from her and putting it out. He lifted her to her feet and hugged her tight. “I’m sorry. I got so scared I was losing you. I couldn’t handle it if you left me. You’re mine to lose.”

  “You’re not losing me, Jack. I love you,” she said as the tears began anew.

  “You know I can’t handle it when you cry. It’s all going to be fine. I promise. Come with me,” he said, leading her back into the room over to the bed.

  They lay in the bed together kissing and trying to reconnect.

  “I don’t want to lose you. I love you,” he said.

  “We’re going to be okay,” she said, but she was not completely sure she believed her own words.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  They had moved the tables from the middle of the Calabash and in their place, a huge block of ice sat melting ever so slowly, sweating its life away. In a matter of moments, an emcee introduced a member of the hotel staff that doubled as an ice sculptor. The guests had crowded around, blocking the view of the patrons that had chosen their lunches and sat at the periphery of the show.

  “Ladies and Gentleman, we’ll provide a free lunch to anyone who can guess the final piece of sculpture,” the emcee announced.

  The audience laughed and applauded. Jack made his way to a point where he could observe the action that was about to take place. A loud burst came from the chainsaw and the ice submitted itself willingly to the skill of the artist. He eyed the block and then charged with vehemence causing ice to fly.

  “It will be a dolphin,” Jack yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth.

  The artist looked toward him, let the chainsaw die down and broke into a warm white-toothed smiled, “Ya mon. You be the winner.”

  The crowd applauded Jack as he made his way to the table. The artist took ten more strokes with the saw and left a glistening spectacle for the crowd to admire—a four foot Dolphin.

  “The artist is great.” Jack smiled as he approached the table. “Listen,” he said, directing his attention to Marc and Summer, “I want to apologize for losing it last night.”

  “How are you feeling today?” Marc asked.

  “Jenna and I have a few things we need to work out, but—” Jack said, flexing the muscles in his jaw. “Can I get a couple of Red Stripes over here?”

  “Perhaps we could help,” Marc said.

  “I don’t thin
k so,” he said, through gritted teeth, body tense. He took a deep breath. “But if you guys can forgive last night’s performance, then let’s have a good time today.” He reclined in his chair in faux relaxation.

  “Sounds good to me,” Summer said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Are you guys going to the island this afternoon?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jenna said and glanced at Jack. “I’m thinking we need to pass.”

  “Nah. We should definitely go get naked,” he said, shifting in his seat.

  “Really? If you’re up for it,” Jenna said. She avoided making direct eye contact with Marc.

  “Summer, come look at the dolphin with me,” Jack said, pulling her away from the table.

  “What happened last night?” Summer asked, turning to face him as they approached the ice sculpture.

  “I don’t know. It was hearing her and being with you. You and me—fuck, I don’t know. It started out as a lot of fun then went psychotic on me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I didn’t think about her being with Marc. I just knew I wanted to make love to you. I guess what’s good for the goose is not necessarily good for the gander in my mind.”

  Summer assertively took him by his shoulders and said, “She loves you, Jack.”

  “I thought we were under an exclusive contract.”

  “Jack, you and I had sex last night, too.”

  “That’s why it’s all so fucked up for me right now. And I would do it again if I could but I don’t think I could handle Jenna with Marc,” he said, glancing back at the table. He saw Jenna lightly place her fingers on top of Marc’s hand and then remove them quickly when she noticed Jack looking at her. She immediately placed her right hand on her upper chest around her throat. “I can’t fucking do this,” Jack said, pushing Summer’s arms away and storming back to the table.

  Summer ran after Jack and arrived at the same time. “Jack, calm down,” she said, trying to grab his hand.

  He shook her off and said, “You know what? Fuck you.”

  “Let’s slow down here,” Marc said. “Let’s try and get it together.” He rose slightly in his chair.

  “Fuck you, Marc. Who died and put you in charge,” Jack said directly in his face.

  “Jack, what the hell? What’s gotten into you?” Jenna said, standing and throwing her hands up in the air.

  “Don’t pull that innocent shit with me, Jenna. I saw you!” he growled, shaking his fist. “God damn it.”

  “I’m going back to the room,” Jenna yelled in a whisper.

  “Don’t bother. I’m going,” Jack said as he ramped away from the table.

  Jenna bit her bottom lip hard enough that she could taste blood. “Excuse me,” she said to Summer and Marc as she rose to leave.

  “Jenna,” Summer called. “He’s very angry. Let him have some space.”

  “I hate this,” she said as she slowly returned to her chair, scanning the direction Jack had taken. “He seems so out of control.”

  “He’s scared, Jenna,” Marc said. “He’s afraid of losing you. He’s alarmed by the feelings that he sees growing between us.”

  “But he’s doing the same thing with Summer! I don’t get it,” Jenna said, shaking her head in frustration.

  “He’s feeling threatened because he thinks he’s losing you to me. He no longer feels like the top dog and doesn’t know how to handle it. He’s in an awkward situation for a man.”

  “So now with the shoe on the other foot he’s having a reaction? We’ve had a really good relationship up until recently. I just ... well, I’ve gone through some changes and I need for us to—” Jenna trailed off.

  The three sat in silence for a few moments.

  “What do you want to do, Jenna?” Summer asked, reaching and touching her hand. “What do you really want to do right now?”

  “What I want I really can’t have, so what it comes down to, is choices, doesn’t it, Marc? I have to choose.”

  “There really isn’t a choice, is there? You and Jack have spent fourteen years together. Most of it, great. We … we’ve only just begun and that doesn’t make a lifetime,” Marc said, sighing. “Who knows what will happen in the future, but for right now, is there really a choice?”

  “Aren’t you the one who told me there’s always a choice? You’re the one who helped me see why I fell in love with Jack in the first place. There’s a real irony here. I feel devastated that we can’t continue what we’ve started,” Jenna said, placing her palms on Marc and Summer’s hands. She looked out over the water and then back to Marc. “But I do understand what you’re saying. He can be such an ass sometimes but I really do love him and can’t imagine my life without him.”

  “We’re here if you need us,” Summer said, standing to give Jenna a hug.

  “Thank you so much,” Jenna said as hugged them both. “I need to go find Jack.”

  She walked briskly through reception with sadness in her heart but clarity of mind. She crossed the lobby to the hallway that led to her room. She didn’t notice Jack, to her left, in the concierge’s office as she passed.

  *****

  “Hi,” Jack said, smiling, controlling his rage with every ounce of his mettle. “Could you tell me when the next flight to the states takes off from Montego Bay?” He tried his best to sidestep his anxiety.

  “Let me check for you,” she said as she punched the keys, bringing up the Air Jamaica flight schedules. “There’s a flight to Miami at 4:55pm.I would offer to get you a ticket but it’s sold out.”

  “I need to leave today,” Jack said, inclining on her desk and dropping his head.

  “Try standby.” She smiled. “You’d be surprised the number of people that book another few days.”

  “Excellent. What’s the fastest way to get there?”

  “Now? You’ll be needing to take a taxi. That’s going to be a bit expensive.”

  “I don’t care. Can you call someone? Please, someone you know and trust.”

  “I’ll call my cousin. Seriously, you’ll be in good hands.”

  “You’re a godsend. Thank you.”

  “Are these your bags?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll have someone bring them to the front of the hotel.”

  Jack pulled open the back door of the taxi and immediately smelled the pungent odor of old smoke. The taxi driver reeked of marijuana. He looked back over the seat and smiled, “Where to, mon?”

  “Montego Bay Airport,” Jack said, settling in for the ride.

  “Ah yes,” he said. “Now I remember. No problem.”

  The taxi jerked forward and stalled. He cranked it again and they were off with a jolt. Jack looked back at the diminishing hotel façade as the driver sped down the hotel drive. The stop sign flew past as he careened around the corner onto the highway.

  “I’d prefer to arrive alive,” Jack spoke loudly competing with the reggae music on the radio.

  The driver looked back at Jack. “Did you say something?”

  “No,” he said, pointing to the highway.

  “Would you like a smoke, mon?” the driver called out in a friendly voice.

  Jack gave him a ‘thumbs up’ and perched his arms on the back of the front seat. He watched the driver—all with one hand—pull a large paper from a pack, fill it with sticky grass, roll it and lick the edge while still driving the taxi.

  “That was amazing,” Jack said. He accepted the joint and his lighter. He drew on the marijuana, filled his lungs and passed it back.

  Jack laid back and closed his eyes, dozing for a while until he jolted awake from the images of Jenna and Marc together. He sat up straight, staring out of the window at the poverty squatting no more than twenty feet from the road, rising up and dappling the mountainside. He rolled down the window slightly to allow fresh air on his face.

  “How much longer?” he asked only half expecting the driver to answer him.

  “Not that far now,” he said as he swerved to mis
s a pedestrian, his expression never changing. “About five minutes up the road.”

  “Thank god.”

  “Ya mon, every day.”

  The driver turned into the Montego Bay airport driving slowly to the entrance. “Air Jamaica, mon. You have a nice flight home.”

  Jack reached into his shoulder bag and produced the fare and a handsome tip. “Thanks for the ride. Good things will come to you.”

  “Ya mon, and you as well.”

  Jack shuffled through the throng of passengers waiting for customs. People stood in the parking area, in a makeshift line. The building cut off the ocean breeze, which left the hapless travelers enduring the hot sun. The crowd seemed jovial considering the circumstances. He waited alone, scuffling forward a few feet at a time, mulling over the last twelve hours. He felt conflicted, angry, sentimental, anxious, tearful, and hopeful. He finally made it to the window. “I need to fly standby for the next flight to Miami,” he said calmly. “Here’s my other ticket.” He handed it to the clerk.

  “Mr. Harper, this flight is booked solid right at the moment. If you’ll take a bench right over there, I’ll call you if a seat becomes available. I’m expecting the usual two to four no-shows.”

  “Thanks,” Jack said, picking up his shoulder bag. He plodded over to the nearest bench and sat down. Will she or won’t she? I’m thinkin’ no fuckin’ way, he thought. He threw his gear down on the end of the seat and laid back. After removing his sunglasses, he pulled his straw hat over his eyes, laced his fingers behind his head, and waited.

  *****

  Jenna accelerated her pace across the lobby, heading for their room. She scaled the steps to the second floor charged with anxious energy. The hallway seemed unfriendly and foreboding as she concentrated on the doorway of 246.She knocked and immediately called out with her ear against the door to listen carefully for any signs of life.

  “Jack,” she called out. “Jack, if you’re in there open the door.” She turned her back to a couple passing. “Jack, I forgot my key,” she said meekly. She scurried back down the hallway and into the lobby, hurrying back to the Calabash.

 

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