Chronicles of Jonathan Tibbs 1: The Never Hero

by T. Ellery Hodges

  The side door to the garage abruptly opened and snapped Jonathan out of his self-examination. Paige and Leah walked in together, surprising him. Paige seldom came in through the garage, and he’d only seen the two together that one day in the garden.

  It occurred to him then, that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to Paige for more than a few moments, not since he’d told her how betrayed he would feel if his mother found out about his attack. The last few weeks had been a blur. He’d set aside everything human and focused on the task of survival. He’d been a machine.

  “Jonathan? Jeez, you look like hell,” Paige said when she took in his face.

  Her eyes started to travel down his exposed torso, shining from all the sweat. She blushed, realizing she’d been careless with her eyes. The awkwardness of it affected both of them, and he became uncomfortable, looking around desperately for the t-shirt only to remember he’d thrown it into the hamper soaking.

  “Just for the record, I don’t agree, but you might think about shaving,” said Leah.

  She was the only one not blushing; still, she had succeeded in making him feel nervous again, somehow even more aware that he was half dressed.

  Paige, recovering from her momentary lapse, walked over to him taking his face in her hand and looking at the shadows under his eyes.

  “When is this foray into macho bullshit going to run its course?” she asked. “From the look of you, you aren’t sleeping any better.”

  Jonathan tensed, sneaking a glance at Leah. He couldn’t help Paige knowing, but he didn’t want their neighbor aware of his problems.

  Paige was only half right anyway. Exhaustion was getting him closer to five or six hours of sleep most nights. He spent so much time training when awake that it seeped into his dreams; his actions in the waking world helping to cloud the terror and guilt he held at bay at night. Still, his mornings were haunted with the face of Sickens the Fever, syringes and chains, blood and drowning, fresh in his mind upon waking, and those were the softer nightmares. He was grateful every night that the girl in the pink coat let him be, nights without jolts of self-loathing so intense his body was forced to wake him just to save him from the tormentor within.

  “When did you two start hanging out?” Jonathan asked, changing the subject.

  “Couple weeks ago,” Leah said, “Paige’s boyfriend needed some welding done.”

  Jonathan may have been tired, but nothing he had just heard made any sense to him. He looked to Paige.

  “You have a boyfriend, who needed welding done? Which involves Leah?”

  “Grant needed, what was it, a catalytic converter?” Paige said looking to Leah, who nodded. “Replaced on his car.”

  “I’ll take your word for it, I’ve no clue what that even is. How’d that involve our neighbor though?” he said, raising an eye brow toward Leah.

  “Jonathan, lately it’s like you’ve been living in a cave,” Paige said with a sigh. “She’s a metal artist. She’s been out in her garage building metal sculptures for weeks. You should look, they’re amazing.”

  “Oh,” Jonathan said. That he was impressed was clear on his face. “So the photography is just a side hobby then? You weld and do mechanic work just to keep things interesting?”

  Leah smiled, enjoying that he was impressed.

  “Hey, why not get your sweaty roommate here to take a shower and come out with us tonight,” Leah said to Paige, without taking her eyes from him.

  “He can’t,” she said. She shook her head then as she realized it had come out more rudely than she’d meant. “Sorry. I meant you won’t, right, Tibbs?”

  Apparently there had been a meeting, and now everyone he knew had agreed to call him ‘Tibbs’ when they wanted to push his buttons. He saw Leah mouthing the word, silently trying it out, and smiling as she held his gaze.

  Unfortunately, Paige was right. Jonathan had a demanding schedule to maintain and going out with his roommates and their admittedly impressive neighbor would not help his longevity.

  “No, I can’t. Sorry,” he said. “I’d have liked to though.”

  Paige looked down at the floor and noticed the staff lying there. She’d never seen him training with the weapon before. Her eyes lingered on it before she looked at him again. Her worry was mounting, and Jonathan could see it in her expression. She held in the urge to ask about the weapon, or maybe just decided she didn’t want to know.

  “Next time okay, Jonathan? Seriously I can’t remember the last time I saw you have any fun.” She tried to say it casually, her worry lead him to think there was something else there.

  Jonathan nodded, just as casually.

  “So you promise?” Paige asked.

  He hadn’t expected a mere nod to put him on the spot and it showed on his surprised expression.

  “You said you’d like to, so what is the problem?’ she asked.

  “I’m trying to stay focused,” he said.

  “Take a break, Jonathan, stop being a hermit. It will be good for you,” she said.

  “Please,” Jonathan leaned in and whispered into her ear, so Leah couldn’t hear. “Remember what happened last time.”

  It had come to him so quickly. He hadn’t stopped to think of the ethics. He’d made the decision to manipulate her, and the only thing stronger than Paige’s worry would be her guilt.

  She flushed at understanding what he’d meant. It wasn’t as though he was connecting a night out with his roommates as a way to end up bloody on the kitchen floor. She’d forced him to tell her he was afraid to be put in a situation where he’d feel vulnerable.

  Jonathan cringed inside with the magnitude of his own bullshit. He couldn’t believe it had even come from him. He wanted to take the lie back. Paige didn’t deserve to feel like a bad friend just because she was trying so hard to be a good one.

  After a moment she nodded, looking sorry. She turned to walk towards the steps up into the house and stopped before leaving the garage.

  “I’ll just grab some clothes and be back in a sec,” she said to Leah before she left, leaving Jonathan and her alone.

  For a moment the anxiety he was feeling showed on his face; another lie, another manipulation, another omission. It wasn’t hard to see where it ended. How long would he even be able to have friends? He was jerked out of this when he remembered Leah was watching him.

  Half naked and alone with her, a nervous excitement pushed out his concerns. He always felt it with her, even in their briefest interactions, yet she never appeared uneasy herself.

  At that moment, she just looked curious, obviously wondering what Jonathan could have said to Paige to side step her request so abruptly. She walked up to Jonathan and tilted her head at him, like a puppy that just heard a noise and didn’t recognize it.

  “So what is it you aren’t saying?” she asked.

  Jonathan felt the untimely need to swallow, and tried not to do so.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Come on, you’re a terrible liar, Tibbs.” She smiled at already having already found an opportunity to call him by his last name.

  He frowned at her.

  “Terrible liars don’t do it for trivial reasons. You hardly know me. There isn’t anyone I’m going to tell. I can keep your secret,” she said.

  The smile gave way to a more compassionate expression, “That, and I can tell you want to tell someone; you don’t like lying.”

  Her perceptiveness was both relieving and concerning, attractive and at the same time dangerous. It didn’t matter how right she was, of course; she’d never be able to understand. He indulged the fantasy of dropping his weight onto her willing ears; the thought that at least someone would know, that someone would see the necessity of his lies and all his actions. She could tell him he didn’t have a choice, that he was doing what he had to.

  That fantasy was just a lie in itself, though, a sad desire to not be alone, and it was for nothing. The relief would be fleeting, if existent at all, and
inevitably lead to more problems not solutions: worried looks, fear for his sanity, advice to get help, perhaps a padded room. It wouldn’t end with him no longer alone in his nightmare. It would leave him more alone than ever.

  Jonathan started to lie, to tell her she was mistaken, yet when he tried, he hesitated and the words didn’t come out. He wanted that fantasy so badly. Trying to weigh it in the moment was impossible. Could he trust her? Could she be so damn pretty he’d ignore reality and let himself make such a bad decision?

  When he didn’t speak, when she could see his concentration turning the tides against opening up to her, she looked disappointed and backed away. He didn’t like it, didn’t like that she was backing off instead of coming closer.

  He reached out to stop her, gently taking her forearm. The action surprised him as much as, if not more than, it did her. He’d never touched her before. Her eyes widened, and she tilted her head again.

  “I’m afraid.” The words escaped him, and he shook his head as he wished he could take them back. He started to stutter. “I wasn’t, I’m not—“

  “—Hey, Leah, on second thought, come help me pick something to wear,” Paige called down into the garage.

  Both startled by the interruption, a moment passed before she called back up to Paige.

  “Okay,” Leah yelled. “One second.”

  When she turned back to Jonathan, her hand reached up, touching his arm.

  “Tell me,” she said softly.

  The interruption had snapped him out of whatever hypnosis she’d had him under. Every cell in his body seemed angry that he was changing course. What had he ever planned to say anyway? He let go of her hand, and smiled at her. The smile didn’t reach the disappointment in his eyes.

  “Damn,” she said quietly, her face returning from compassionate back to curious.

  Aware that the moment was lost, she turned to head up the stairs. As she left a thought jumped into Jonathan’s head and he blurted it out.

  “You know, I might need some welding done myself.”

  She shrugged at the top of the stairs.

  “Happy to help,” she said. “Just let me know.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  SATURDAY | AUGUST 13, 2005 | 10:00 AM

  COLLIN favored honesty. He’d always been drawn to the ugly and often offensive truth. It was a character trait that won him few friends. Still, he held that it was what he wanted from the people around him, and as such, he would have to give it to get it.

  “Tibbs, as your friend,” Collin said, “I’m going on record and reiterating that I think this is a bad decision.”

  “Keep an open mind, I guess,” Jonathan said. “I don’t need your opinion; I just need you to make sure it works.”

  Collin frowned at Jonathan.

  When did Tibbs become such a dick?

  Did the guy realize how rude he would have come off had he been talking to someone, anyone, else? Statements like, “I don’t need your opinion,” were becoming more and more frequent, when the guy even bothered making a statement. It was disturbing how much a person could be changed by one little incident.

  Okay, not so little of an incident, Collin reminded himself. Even now the image of Jonathan crawling through all that blood was something he forced out of his thoughts when it arose.

  They were sitting on a bus headed out of downtown Seattle. It was the third transfer they’d needed to take to get to the White Center area of the city, not the friendliest looking neighborhood they were heading into. Collin had never been there on foot, the idea of trekking through the neighborhood evoked fears of being mugged at gunpoint. Tibbs had asked him to meet at an address, but he’d decided to ride the bus with him instead.

  “Tibbs, I don’t mean to pry,” Collin paused. “Well, no, that’s BS. I do mean to pry…”

  Jonathan looked impatient, closing his eyes as he appeared to know where this was heading. Collin knew he wasn’t the first to ask, but he might be the first who wasn’t going to sugar coat it.

  “What is up with you?” he said.

  “I’m fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” Jonathan said.

  “Come on, Tibbs, you’re not ‘fine.’ Paige has been worried about you for weeks now. Hayden told me he’s been praying for you. I’ve been ignoring it. I figured, after what happened, you earned a few months to get it together,” Collin said, “but come on, how much should people ignore?”

  Jonathan touched his fingers to his eyelids. Clearly he was sick of feeling like his behavior required explanation. Of course, the guy could put it all to rest by just ‘explaining it.’ Collin wasn’t especially interested in being overly involved in anyone’s business, but he couldn’t live with a person who was acting nuts and turn a blind eye to it. That’s how people wake up one day and find out their roommate took a sniper rifle to a rooftop while they’d been too busy minding their own damn business. Collin hadn’t doubted that Jonathan had his reasons, but Paige and Hayden’s concerns had cracked his confidence.

  As such, Collin knew his place in their household dynamic. If something had to be said, and everyone was too polite, Collin cleared the air. Admittedly, these issues were usually more like “stop leaving your damn nail clippings in the sink,” but still, Paige and Hayden were not going to tell Jonathan that they’re afraid of him.

  “Let’s just say it, shall we.” He paused. “When I say ‘worried,’ I’m being polite. Paige is past worried. She’s closer to afraid for you, of you.”

  There, it was out.

  Jonathan didn’t like the word afraid, it was obvious on his face. Collin thought he looked almost nauseated by it. How could Tibbs really not have realized it? Be so unaware of his own behavior as to not notice when he had crossed the line of peculiar to deeply concerning.

  “Why?” Jonathan blurted out, immediately reigning in the concern in his voice. He let out a long breath. “How could they be afraid?”

  Collin did not detect any hint that Tibbs was being disingenuous. That was what made it even more puzzling. How caught up in his own world had Jonathan become to be so surprised? It was hard to believe that he would have to explain to him how he looked to everyone else in the house, yet that was exactly what needed to happen.

  “Tibbs, imagine you’re this guy, and you live with a bunch of roommates. No, not just roommates; you started out as roommates but now you’re all friends. One day, one of these friends, a pretty standard guy, if not a bit of a workaholic, has something just, admittedly, unimaginably terrible happen to him.”

  Collin paused, he didn’t want to bring up the incident but there was no way around it.

  “You understand that this friend of yours is a mess. Frankly, you’d be worried if he wasn’t a mess. So you and the rest of your friends do your best to be supportive. Then, this friend, he seems like he’s started to process things, like he might pull himself together. But, unfortunately, he’s more broken than he realized. He tries to go back to school but he just isn’t ready, which again, you understand. You don’t even judge him for it, because you can’t begin to imagine what he’s going through.”

  Collin stopped again, wanting to make sure it was understood that he made no claims at comprehending what Jonathan’s trauma might have done to him.

  “You start to feel terrible for your friend, because you hear him screaming at night. He’s clearly scared shitless. You know you shouldn’t say anything. You don’t need to add embarrassment to his problems. You don’t think your friend has a damn thing to be embarrassed about though. So you say to yourself, hey, if he wants to talk, I’m here for him.”

  Collin took a long breath. Jonathan was staring at the seat in front of them, but he was listening; he seemed to want to know what it looked like from the outside.

  “Your friend never says anything, so you take the hint, and you don’t bring it up. Then he seems to take an interest in things he never cared about before. He wants to watch action movies, he wants to talk about superheroes, he even seems to ca
re when your other idiot roommate goes off on ridiculous rants about these things. He is overly interested in art reflecting life reflecting art, Blah, blah, whatever. You don’t care because you assume that your friend is just trying to distract himself. That he might even be afraid to sleep, or even be afraid to be alone. He just needs time, and if he wants a distraction, hell, it’s the least you can do.

  Then, stranger things seem to start happening. He’s gone most of the day, but he isn’t at school. He starts eating like a health nut. He starts exercising like it’s the only thing in life that matters. Still, though, there are worse things a guy could do between semesters. So, you even try to workout with him a bit.

  You start seeing less and less of him. You tell yourself, maybe he met a girl. That would be great, just what the guy needs. But that doesn’t seem to fit. Your garage transforms slowly into a gym. Your friend, when you see him, is exhausted. You go days at a time without speaking to him. You catch a glimpse of him one night and his shoulders and arms are covered in bruises. When you talk to him, sometimes, you seem to be talking to someone else. Then he starts having this look is his eye that you don’t recognize and it’s intimidating. He never smiles, well, at least when he does, you think he’s faking. You start to worry that maybe he’s so afraid of something, that he’s becoming dangerous.”

  His friend looked concerned; though, Collin actually found that to be relieving. Jonathan must have underestimated what it would be like to live with him the last few months. The wakeup call looked like it was far worse than he’d suspected.

  “Paige said that Leah even asked you to come out the other night and you blew her off. Which, Tibbs! When a woman like that wants you to go out, the word ‘no’ should have been erased from your vocabulary.”