The Thursday Night Club

by Steven Manchester

  “And why’s that?” Jesse asked.

  “Because Jesse was out collecting money for charity,” Randy reported, nodding. “He wasn’t actually pranking people.”

  Kevin turned to Jesse. “Be honest, how much did you collect?”

  “Not even fifty bucks,” Jesse said defensively, “I swear.”

  “Okay, so what did you do with the money?” Kevin asked.

  Jesse shrugged. “I threw it into the Wounded Warrior Project jar at the pizza shop.”

  “That’s it, you’re disqualified,” Randy said decisively.

  The girls started laughing.

  Jesse stood. “I’m what?”

  “Randy’s right,” Kevin said. “You were supposed to be pranking people, not doing charity work.” He grinned. “You’re out of the contest, do-gooder.”

  Jesse sat back down and laughed. “Sorry guys. I guess I’ll have to blame my parents. They always taught me to give more than I take.”

  “That’s awesome,” Izzy said. “How so?” she asked, clearly interested in hearing more.

  Jesse smiled and his eyes grew distant. “When I was a kid, my father used to pull over for anyone who was stuck—rain, snow, it didn’t matter. If someone were in need of a helping hand, he’d lend one. And there I was, in the backseat of the car, paying close attention.” He smiled wide. “If parents made money raising kids, mine would have been millionaires,” he added sincerely.

  “Are you complementing your parents or yourself?” Randy asked.

  Jesse smiled. “Both I guess. All I’m doing is pulling over and lending a hand to some folks who need it. I just hope, when I have kids, that they pay attention too.”

  After sneezing twice, Ava asked, “So it was your dad, then, who screwed you up and molded you into a compassionate soul?”

  Jesse laughed. “Actually, my grandfather had the greatest influence on me when I was growing up. He once told me that he’d never been to a funeral where folks talked about a dead guy’s bank account or the amount of houses and cars he owned. Instead, people remembered their good deeds…the help they offered others throughout their lives.” Jesse paused. “Then he asked me, what if—in the end—wealth isn’t defined by what we’ve accumulated? What if it’s decided by how much we give away while we’re here?”

  “Your grandfather was a very wise man,” Ava said, stifling a cough.

  “He had his moments,” Jesse said, with a loving smile. “And then there were times when he was less than appropriate.”

  “A Renaissance man?” Kevin asked.

  Jesse chuckled. “I was seven years old when he recited a poem about a pelican to me.”

  “Do you remember it?” Randy asked.

  Jesse cleared his throat. “A wonderful bird is the pelican. His bill will hold more than his belican. He can take in his beak. Food enough for a week. But I’m damned if I see how the helican.” Jesse laughed. “At that age, I thought he was swearing.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Renaissance man indeed,” Kevin said. After a moment, he shook his head. “You know, it’s all very nice that your family taught you to be a decent guy, Jesse, but you should let them know that it just cost you seventy-five cents.”

  The girls continued to laugh.

  “So it looks like I’m the winner then,” Randy announced.

  Now Kevin was on his feet. “What?!”

  Randy nodded, proudly. “That Big Foot prank you pulled was criminal…”

  Jesse quickly jumped into the fun. “And caused great fear and…” he went wide-eyed in a pathetic display of drama, “…perhaps even suffering.”

  “They’re right, funny man,” Ava said to Kevin, turning to sneeze again.

  Izzy nodded in agreement. “When the campus police siren went off, Kevin, you were disqualified right then and there,” she said.

  Kevin pondered this for a moment and then realized that Randy was the victor. “So you’re all telling me that lame Randy wins by default?” he groaned.

  As everyone nodded, Randy emptied the peanut jar and placed the three quarters into his pocket.

  While the laughter continued, the five friends began to play cards—with Kevin pouting over the loss.

  At the end of the night, Izzy turned to the boys. “Guys, please tell me you’re not going trick-or-treating next week?”

  Kevin shook his head for all three boys. “We’re probably safest staying here and handing out candy this year,” he said.

  “Which might keep us out of jail,” Jesse added.

  Kevin nodded. “Yeah, Randy can dress as a scarecrow again and make more children cry.”

  “That was supposed to be funny,” Randy said defensively.

  Ava looked at them through swollen eyes and wiped her nose with another tissue. “What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving this year?” she asked.

  “Going home,” everyone reported.

  “All except Jesse,” Izzy teased. “He’ll probably be dishing out mashed potatoes at the rectory kitchen again.”

  Jesse shook his head. “Not this year,” he admitted, “although we should all head down there at some point and help them get things prepared.”

  “Count me in,” Izzy said.

  “Me too,” Ava and Randy said.

  Everyone looked at Kevin.

  “Fine,” he said, “but that’ll cover me for both Thanksgiving and Christmas,” he said.

  Jesse shook his head at his friend. “Shame on you,” he teased. “My grandfather would be very disappointed.”

  Kevin stood and prepared to leave for the night. “So the Renaissance man had something to say about Christmas too?”

  Jesse’s face turned from playful to serious. “He told me to watch how people acted toward each other around Christmas and then asked me to imagine if everyone acted that way all year long.” He nodded. “I’ve always loved Christmas for that.”

  4

  It was a raw autumn morning, a hard driving rain causing the air to feel ten degrees cooler than it actually was; it was early enough that the gas-lit lamps along the buckled sidewalk were still buzzing with a dying glow.

  With his sweatshirt hood pulled down over his head and brow, Jesse checked his watch and cringed. Damn, I’m gonna be late, he thought. As he hurried along to his first class, he realized that the heavy pack slung across his shoulder wasn’t helping his progress. As he approached a crosswalk, he waited for the light to change—and checked his watch again. Just as soon as the light turned yellow for oncoming traffic, Jesse took a step off the curb and—trying to time the light turning red—started sprinting for the sidewalk across the wet, glistening street.

  A silver Lexus, speeding up to beat the red light, raced toward the crosswalk. Jesse looked left to see the sharp teeth of the car’s front grill just inches from him. Oh, God, he thought and as he held his breath, the car’s tires let out an eerie shriek—just before taking a hard, mind numbing bite out of his side.

  As Jesse went down, the world quickly faded to black—and disappeared.

  After squealing sideways, the car jerked to a sudden stop. An older male driver—his bloated face bleached white and showing signs of shock—jumped out of the late model Lexus and hurried to assess the damage. The young man he’d struck was lying motionless in a growing pool of blood. As several curious co-eds gathered around the gruesome scene, the driver began to panic. “Someone call an ambulance!” he yelled and looked back at the young man’s bloody body. “Oh, what have I done?” The driver checked Jesse’s pulse. “Oh God, no!” he screamed.

  As the crowd grew thicker—with some of them becoming visibly upset—a siren wailed sorrowfully in the distance.

  Across campus, Kevin was walking to class when his cell phone rang. “Not again, Randy,” he said under his breath. He looked at the phone’s display and nodded. “Not Randy,” he confirmed and answered the call. “What’s up, bro?”

  Kevin listened intently for a moment. His face became distressed, until a grin appeared. “No
way, bro, I’m not buying it! Jesse just lost one of our stupid contests and now he’s trying to even the score.”

  As Kevin continued to listen, the grin was completely wiped from his face. He hung up and made a quick call. “Izzy, did you hear anything about Jesse getting hit by a car this morning?”

  He listened and then shook his head. “No, me neither, but some dude from my Psych class told me that he just got messed up pretty bad over near the park on Elm. Grab Ava and meet me over there. I’ll put a call into Randy.” He listened again and nodded. “I know, but even if it is a hoax, I say we play along.”

  At the accident scene, an even larger crowd had gathered as Kevin, Randy, Izzy and Ava tried to make their way through. There were police lights—even from town—flashing. A sheet-covered stretcher was being loaded into the rear of an ambulance.

  Kevin looked back at his friends and gasped. “I don’t think this is a prank!”

  The gang fought harder to make their way through the thick crowd. Just as the four friends got close, the ambulance doors closed and a siren howled away from the scene. With panic etched into each of their faces, they approached a police officer who was trying to keep the crowd away from the spot of the accident.

  “What happened here?” Randy screamed toward him.

  The police officer motioned with his palm that they remain on the sidewalk.

  “Okay, okay,” Randy yelled, “but tell us what happened!”

  “Some kid tried to beat the light and paid for it,” he said nonchalantly.

  Randy looked back at his friends and then down at the street—near the area that the police officer was protecting. There was a giant red bloodstain. “Oh no…”

  White-faced, Kevin grabbed a co-ed standing nearby. “Who was it?” he asked.

  “Some guy named Jesse,” she said. “I didn’t know him.”

  Randy overheard this and screamed back to the police officer, “Do you think he’ll be all right?”

  The cop shook his head. “He was already gone by the time we got here.”

  “Gone?” Izzy screamed. “What?”

  The police officer put his portable radio to his ear and listened. He shook his head again. “They just pronounced him dead,” he reported sadly.

  Ava collapsed to the sidewalk. “Please God, no! Not Jesse!” she shrieked.

  Izzy and the others immediately began to mourn.

  An hour later, Izzy, Ava and Kevin sat in shock on the girls’ front porch. Randy slowly approached the stairs, shaking his head. His face showed every sign that he’d recently been crying.

  “What—” Ava began to ask.

  “—they told me that he died instantly and that…” Randy interrupted, but began crying so hard that he couldn’t finish. Izzy hurried to him with a hug. “…and that he didn’t feel any pain,” he finished between sobs.

  “Thank God for that,” Kevin said, trying to be strong. “Where did they take him…” Kevin also stopped. Everyone already knew the answer.

  Randy looked up from Izzy’s shoulder. “The chaplain’s trying to get in touch with his parents.” He shook his head. “That’s all I know.”

  “What about the driver who hit him?” Ava asked angrily.

  “Yeah, he must be in custody, right?” Kevin said.

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Randy admitted, “so I asked.” He shook his head again. “He’s not.”

  Izzy was outraged. “He’s not?”

  Like a broken man, Randy half-shrugged. “They said it was an accident, with no alcohol or drugs involved, so he was free to go.”

  “Free to go?” Ava repeated, more furious. “Well, good for him!”

  “So what about Jesse?” Izzy whimpered. “Is he free to go too?” Izzy stopped, setting off a whole new round of sobbing amongst the friends.

  Once they’d composed themselves, Kevin wiped his eyes and said, “You know if it was one of us behind the wheel, we’d be sitting in jail right now, charged with vehicular homicide.”

  “Yeah,” Izzy said, “because they’d think we were texting or horsing around or on our way to some housing project to buy drugs.”

  Ava shook her enraged head. “Jesse’s dead and he’s free to go.”

  All four friends allowed the weight of Ava’s final statement to sink in and a new round of terrible grieving began.

  ~~~

  Jesse’s funeral took place on Wednesday morning. In the cemetery, the chaplain had just finished his sermon and mourners began passing by Jesse’s casket for one final good-bye.

  Izzy, Ava, Kevin and Randy—each devastated—mouthed a few silent words to their deceased friend and kept right on walking until they reached a tree off in the distance.

  As they sadly huddled together under the giant oak, their college professor, Professor McKee, surprised the friends by approaching them to offer her heartfelt condolences.

  “Oh great,” Ava said under her breath. “Look who’s here.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Professor McKee said once she reached them. “I know Jesse was a dear friend to all of you.” She nodded. “He was a very special person.” The heavyset woman had a mop of frizzy hair and a pair of reading glasses that sat on the bridge of a slender nose.

  “He sure was,” Randy agreed.

  “What a waste,” Izzy added angrily.

  “Excuse me?” the female professor asked compassionately.

  “It’s a useless waste of life,” Ava added furiously.

  “Jesse’s life,” Kevin explained, “a life that we all know would have done some incredible things…was wasted.” He took a deep breath. “All because of some stupid, random accident.”

  Professor McKee smiled. “You may not want to hear this right now, guys, but I don’t believe there are any random acts in the universe, and nothing is done in vain—nor is anything useless.” She searched each of their eyes. “Sometimes, you have to be patient to see how things turn out and, with any luck, reveal the greater purpose.” She smiled gently again but—with a stern, rigid expression permanently carved into her brow—she appeared as disappointed and judgmental as ever.

  This comment was immediately met with scornful glances and a few negative grunts.

  “Be patient for what?” Ava asked bravely. She shook her head. “To die, so we can be with Jesse again?”

  “Not at all,” the woman said. “The worst thing you could ever do with your life is to wait for it to end.”

  “Unfortunately, Jesse didn’t have that choice,” Randy said. “His life was ended for him…” He wiped his eyes. “…long before it ever really began.”

  “I agree,” the teacher said, “but you guys are still here…” She searched their eyes again. “…and you each have a choice, don’t you?”

  They nodded in unison.

  “From where I stand, I honestly can’t imagine some great purpose in this,” Kevin admitted.

  “But your perspective may change,” McKee said, her tone soft. “It always does.”

  As more skeptical glances were exchanged between the four friends, Randy shocked them even further. “So you really believe that Jesse’s life—and death—have some great purpose that we can’t see?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I really do. Unfortunately, people within our society believe that the person who dies with the most toys wins. For most, it’s all about amassing material objects, wealth. For others, it’s about compiling a list of accomplishments and accolades.” She looked back toward Jesse’s casket. “But have you ever been to a funeral and overheard someone praise the deceased for anything they owned?”

  As their jaws dropped open, the friends listened in awe as the professor echoed Jesse’s recent words—almost verbatim.

  Professor McKee changed her voice to drive her point home. “Oh, what wonderful houses and cars he had!” She shook her head. “No, people are truly remembered by what they do while on this planet and, more importantly, how they help others. It’s not about what you have or take, it’s about
what you give…and eventually leave behind.” She smiled. “Imagine if we all measured wealth that way.”

  For the first time, the professor’s words were not met with negativity. The four friends remained silent, pondering the wonderful déjà vu experience.

  “What a different and glorious world this would be,” Professor McKee added.

  They each nodded.

  “The good book says to place our treasures in heaven because that’s where our hearts will be,” she continued, looking toward Jesse’s casket again. “It’s not only a matter of faith, but the proof in your deeds.” She looked back at them. “No great mystery here, guys. And I think Jesse figured it out early.” She nodded. “Giving more than you take… now that’s how you build a life worth living.”

  The friends looked at each other in awe.

  With a wink, Professor McKee walked away, leaving them to internalize her lesson.

  ~~~

  The four friends still met for the Thursday Night Club on Izzy and Ava’s front porch. Rather than play cards, they shared bittersweet memories of Jesse.

  “Who enters a best prank contest and raises money for charity?” Kevin asked, snickering. “I mean, who does that?”

  “He was so amazing, wasn’t he?” Izzy said. “I remember our freshman year when he helped me study for a World History test I was freaking out about. I didn’t think it was a big deal until I found out he had to stay up all night to cram for his own exam that he had in the morning.

  Randy shook his head. “Unreal!” he said. “Do you guys remember when Jesse couldn’t make our potluck dinners last year?”

  They each nodded.

  “Well, I found out later he was down at the soup kitchen, volunteering.” He shook his head. “When I called him on it, he asked me not to tell anyone…said that the only one who needed to know was God.”

  “Jesse’s stories are endless,” Kevin added.

  “And so was his caring for other people,” Ava said.

  “This may sound crazy,” Izzy said, “but I feel like he’s still with us…sitting right here, right now.”