Jack Emerson
Page 6
Chapter 6
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I was at the diner down the street from my apartment and the waitress noticed the notes I was making. She saw the title ‘Jack Emerson.’
"You writing the diary of a tortured mind?" she asked.
“No… wait, do you know Jack Emerson?"
"Do I know Jack?" she laughed. "I feel like I could say I do. He's not a very simple person though, so there’s always more to know."
"That's why I'm writing about him."
"Are you a writer?" she asked.
"I don't know you tell me?" I said and handed her the first page.
She scanned it and handed it back. "Nope," she said and laughed.
“Just kidding. But I really wouldn't start out with you trying to describe Jack, no one can. Just start with him telling one of his stories."
"So you've heard his stories?"
"Oh he's got a story for everything, and if he doesn't, he'll just make one up on the spot."
“It sounds like you do know Jack then."
"As I get to know Jack better, I start to question whether I really ‘know’ anyone, or whether I just know things about people. Not that Jack is mysterious, but he isn’t just trying to keep up an image, he is Jack Emerson, and that could mean anything. Some people are content with portraying one simple image, but not Jack.”
“You’re so right; I think for much of my life, most people would just describe me simply as a ski bum.”
“And not that anyone with a simple image can’t still have surprises about them, but Jack really shows how someone can always be full of surprises. He doesn’t do it to shock either. It’s not like he is always looking for new things to impress people, he does come across that way sometimes though.
“Oh Jack, he's a really good guy, and enjoys life in all its diverse beauties. I don't know how well you know him yet, but one interesting thing that I learned about him is he talks when he's anxious or excited, unlike most, which get quiet when anxiety hits.
It took me a while to figure out the subtle difference. I still think I guess wrong half the time, but it was really good when I found that out, because otherwise you will think he just likes to hear himself talk... Which I think on occasion he does, but he cares more about the person he's talking to, than what he is talking about.
He really does have a big heart under a brilliant but slightly backwards wired head. You got to love him for it. I was offended a few times a while ago, but now I really enjoy his company.”
“What do you think makes Jack anxious?"
"You'd never know it, but he'll tell you just about anything does."
"He seems so confident though."
"He is-- that's the weird thing. He deals with his anxiety by mustering confidence, with a side effect being he starts talking a lot, it’s not too hard to get him to calm though. I think that’s the subtle difference, when he is anxious it is a little harder to get him to stop talking."
"I'm trying to imagine what would make Jack nervous, I can't think of anything.
"The mind is a powerful thing; you can elevate or torture yourself. Imagine if you could hear what everyone in this room was thinking?"
"That would be a lot going on."
"Well, Jack thinks he can."
“I wouldn't put it passed him."
"I wouldn't either to a certain extent, but how he attempts it is the torturous part. He tries to think up all of the plausible things a person could think or might do, and then weighs the probabilities factoring in all the details that could play a role.
And a plausible thought, well at least to him, is that people think he's crazy, or people think he's arrogant. So he goes about trying to disprove thoughts people most likely don't have.
Let’s just put it this way, he’s a lot more comfortable talking one on one. He can talk about anything and with anyone, he just doesn’t like big group situations. He says some people smoke because they don’t know what to do with their hands; he gets anxious, because he doesn’t know what to do with his mind.”
Luckily the diner was virtually empty, so Beth and I were free to talk. I was so interested to learn more about her, she was so friendly and smart. There seemed to be just as much mystery and intrigue in her life story as in Jack’s.
I wonder if I am just looking at everyone different now that I have met Jack.
“If you want a good story Chris, ask Jack what you get with one bullfrog and three treble hooks,” she laughed just thinking about it.
“Alright I will. Thank you so much for your help. I’ll probably be in here and bother you again.”
“Bother all you want. Oh, and ask him what the biggest bubble gum bubble he’s ever blown is.”
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