For the Love of Peter Jones

by Adaeze Okoli

  “Mr. Marker, you should call your son, or write him a letter? Try to express to him how sorry you are. Sooner or later your son will come around and start talking to you.”

  When I was finished talking he stood up and smiled.

  “C’mon let’s go, I’ll let you stay the night, I don’t want you on the streets. I know you don’t have a place to stay.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to say no to him. I wanted to continue on my mission, but Mr. Marker had shared personal words with me. Turning down his offer would be rude, and was not an option for me.

  Mr. Marker and I were walking back to his motel room. We had a block in a half before we would be there. Cars driving by, that’s all I could hear, but that was okay. I found the car noises to be peaceful in a way. As each car drove by I liked to think up a story for the people in them. I’ve been doing that since I was nine. This was a game my mom and I liked to play.

  Mr. Marker and I kept walking until I noticed he had come to a complete stop. Mr. Maker’s face had lost all its color. His tanned skin had gone snow white in seconds. I looked around trying to spot what made him stop walking and freeze up, but then I spotted them.

  “Hey, buddy. Miss us?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Those words came from a man in a black Cadillac with the window rolled down. There were three other men in the car that jumped out. At this point, I didn’t know what was going on. I looked up at Mr. Marker and by the looks of it, he knew exactly who these guys were. The man in the front seat spoke again.

  “What makes you think we wouldn’t find you, you owe us money?” A big muscle guy in the passenger side spoke next.

  “Time’s up, we waited as long as we could.”

  A rush of panic came to me; I didn’t know what to do. Mr. Marker began to speak.

  “Look boys, I know I’m a little late but I’m sure we can work things out.”

  The man in the driver seat sucked in his breath.

  “We’ve waited and even extended the date that you could give us the money. That date is today and we still don’t have it.”

  A man in his mid 40’s pulled out a gun from the backseat.

  “Now see, this didn’t have to get messy, all you had to do is pay us. Since you have this twig along with you we’re going to have to take him out as well. We wouldn’t want him running to the cops. Now would we?”

  Mr. Marker turned around to me.

  “Take the keys and run back to the motel, run!”

  I stood on the sidewalk, frozen in time; I was scared. My stomach cramped up as if I had finished drinking eight cartons of spoiled milk. There was a gun pointed at Mr. Marker and a man said he had to kill me. Digging into his pants pocket Mr. Marker tossed the keys to me.

  “Run kid, run!”

  This time he didn’t need to repeat himself, I took off running, and shots were fired.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  My heart was beating fast, I felt like I was going to pass out while running. I didn’t dare look back. After I took off running and the shots were fired I heard a man scream. I was hoping it was one of the other guys and not Mr. Marker, but something deep down told me it wasn’t. Although I heard no footsteps behind me I feared someone was chasing me.

  I didn’t stop running until I reached the old motel room. The room started spinning; I walked into the dirty bathroom and splashed water onto my face. I looked into the stained mirror; my face was red. I looked like I had run a marathon.

  Walking out the bathroom is when everything hit me at once. Why live if this is all life has to offer? Running, running away from trouble is all I’ll ever be doing. I don’t even know if Mr. Marker is alive. Actually, I know the answer to that, he’s not. I heard the gunshots and then a scream. The only ones with a gun were the men in the car, there’s no way Mr. Marker is alive. Everyone around me either dies, leaves, or hurts me. Voices in my head laughed at me, they whispered the names of those who died around me. Their whispers became too loud.

  I made up my mind, now is the time. I walked over to the couch that smelled like piss and sat down. On the little table in front of the couch was Mr. Markers whiskey bottle. I grabbed the bottle and started drinking. When mom was first diagnosed, whiskey bottles were tossed across our counter. After my dad received the news, each day the number of bottles I’d find in the house would grow. I’d wake up and my father was drinking, I’d come home and he was drinking yet again. I guess life continues to repeat, because how I look at it I’m in the exact same position as my father. I’m following his footsteps, and I’m uncomfortably aware of it. The difference with my father and I is I know how to end this vicious cycle. I opened my backpack that I left on the floor and took out the pill bottles. Taking the first fifty pills was simple. I swallowed them all with the whiskey. For reasons I can’t explain, I couldn’t finish the second bottle of painkillers. I was only able to take twenty of them. I didn’t care which syringe had which drug, I took the nearest ones to me and shot them up my arm. I laid back down onto the couch.

  Thirty minutes later I felt pain in my chest area. I thought taking pills would be painless. I could feel my heartbeat becoming slower, the beating was loud in my ears. My chest started feeling too tight and my stomach felt like it had a million knots in it. Breathing in air started to get more difficult by each passing second.

  I got a flashback of something my mom said to me when I was younger.

  “There will come a time in your life where you want to give up and stop living, but don’t give in. You’ll always have people who want to see you fall and crumble, but what’s the point in giving them that satisfaction? Show them that you’re strong.”

  I looked up at my mother with a confused look on my face.

  “Why would anyone want to give up on life when it has people like you in it.” Momma shook her head and bent down and kissed me.

  “The world is a crazy place baby.”

  Like that, the flashback was gone. I didn’t understand what mom’s words meant at the time, but I do now.

  Panic, I started trying to make myself throw everything up; I want this out my system! My mouth was moving, but nothing was coming out. I didn’t have a voice anymore. I tried screaming, but it hurt too much to make a sound. The motel room door opened, I couldn’t see who was coming through the door. I could hear my heartbeat beating slower yet harder. The person rushed over to me.

  “Kid! What have you done? What…have…you…done?”

  The person was speaking in a slow pace or at least that’s how my mind was processing it. Shaking, someone was shaking me. The person stopped shaking me and started running out the room. Soon I couldn’t see the person all I heard was a very faint voice say.

  “Help.”

  I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. Each time I closed my eyes and started to pass out, my body would jolt awake. The pain was unbearable. I’m sweating profusely. My world was spinning and everything was starting to look like the same color. Within a few seconds, I couldn’t see any colors, everything was black, my hearing went out, and then my heart gave out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A loud and obnoxious beeping noise is what I woke up to. I tried lifting up my arm up, but a hand eased my arm back down. Lifting my head up a little I saw that hand belonged to Mr. Marker. I looked over and saw Mrs. Sung sitting in a chair next to Mr. Marker. Once I realized who it was I became confused. How did they know where I was going to be here? Wait no, scratch that how did I end up here. Last I remember is me laying on a couch... everything became clear, I tried to kill myself. I actually tried going through with my plan. How am I alive?

  “Glad to see you’re finally awake kid,” Mr. Marker said.

  It was him. He was the person in the room who was shaking me and calling out for help. Mrs. Sung started looking into her purse and pulled out my notebook. The one X gave me. She handed the notebook over to me.

  “You were acting much more different than usual. I noticed the children were tormenting you. Sin
ce you’re a shy kid I figured you wouldn’t say what was going on, I checked your journal. I tried calling your name but you never turned around to come get the book. I was terrified when I read that you were going to kill yourself. I had no idea you were going through so much.”

  Mrs. Sung paused, took a drink of water, and continued.

  “I called all the hospitals in the area of our school. They told me they’d alert others in the surrounding areas. I told them that I was one of your aunts and they needed to alert me if you came in. I said our family was worried sick and feared for your safety. I called the principal’s office for your records, only to find out you live in Inglewood. I called the only hospital I could think of. Cantilena Regina. Your story touched me so much because I had social anxiety and depression for a few years when I was a teenager. I know how it feels to feel like no one understands or cares. I know you hate me for stopping you from…”

  I cut Mrs. Sung off, I knew what she was going to say next. I reached out for her hand.

  “No, don’t apologize; I regretted trying to O.D. I thought I was going to die, you and Mr. Marker are my heroes.”

  Mr. Marker got up and squeezed my hand.

  “I knew you’d pull through.”

  He walked out into the hallway. Mrs. Sung gave me a huge smile.

  “I got in contact with someone who needs to be here to see you. This is a person who made an attempt to do whatever they could to get in contact with you.”

  She got up and went out of my room and into the hallway. I had a bad feeling that this someone was my father. The pit of my stomach felt hollow. I braced myself as soon as the door handle started to jiggle. I held my breath a little and closed my eyes, preparing for the worse.

  When I opened my eyes, I saw Trinity.

  “Hey Handsome,” she said while walking over to me.

  I looked horrible. I was hooked up to a machine that was pumping the pills and alcohol out my stomach. But I didn’t care. I almost died, and if I don’t ask her now, I know I never will. This is my chance. I asked her to be my girlfriend in the hospital room in front of our school’s English teacher.

  “Trinity you are by far a gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. Not only that, you have a wonderful personality to match your beauty. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a long time. But each time I told myself that I would never be good enough. That part is still true I know I’m not good enough right now, but I’ll try my best to be perfect for you. From the second you started talking to me, I knew all the rumors were true. I always heard a rumor about you. The rumor said you’re not like other girls. Now that I know you I can say that’s true. You always managed to see the good side of everything. I promise, in time I will be able to prove to you that I am the man for you. That’s a promise. Trinity King, I would be honored to be your boyfriend if you will have me.”

  By the time I was done talking I noticed Mrs. Sung had left the room. Looking up into Trinity’s eyes was like looking at an angle. All I could see was pure joy. She walked over to the side of the hospital bed, grabbed my hand, and kissed my forehead.

  “I would be honored to be your girlfriend.”

  Mrs. Sung walked into the room and snapped a picture of us holding hands.

  “This picture will be the first memory of you two being in a relationship. One memory down that you two have created together. Over one thousand more to go.” Mr. Marker walked back into the room.

  “Way to go kid. You’ve got balls. I wouldn’t have been able to do that when I was your age. Good job on going after what you want.”

  I was embarrassed, they were listening to me talk to Trinity from the hallway. I’m sure Trinity was embarrassed too. Although this was an awkward moment, Mrs. Sung was right. Trinity and I had plenty more wonderful memories to create.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A year has passed, and I couldn’t be happier. Mrs. Sung has adopted me, it makes me proud be able to call her mom. No one can replace my biological mom she will always be number one, but Mrs. Sung has become a close second. She told me that a long time ago she had an abortion and it was the biggest mistake of her life. Being able to call me her son is like her being given another chance to raise a kid. I no longer call her Mrs. Sung. I now call her mom.

  Mom had told me that my writing was lovely. She said the way I stitched my words together was a talent many try to master. Mom encouraged me to transfer the words from the journal X gave me, to my laptop. Mom said a story like mine should get published. I loved the idea of being able to become an author. I get to keep my promise to X. By keeping my promise to X, I’ll be able to tell his story through mine. X may have passed, but his story won’t be forgotten. His story, our story, will be one that can help many.

  Mom has removed me from the school I was at. She said she didn’t want to keep me in an environment that treated me so bad. Right now I’ve been taking online classes and have gotten accepted into a well-respected college. I start at the new school next year. Trinity is doing great, there’s not a time when we don’t talk. She’s my best friend and girlfriend, there’s not one thing we can’t do or say in front of each other.

  My father has been trying to get in contact with me ever since he found out from mom that I was in the hospital. At the moment I haven’t worked up the courage to speak to him, but I know soon I will. I’m still mad and hurt over the things he’s said and done, but I know I need to forgive him. It’s not good for me to keep walking around with this hate from what my father has done.

  I was typing on my computer when mom busted through the door.

  “Guess what sweetie?”

  Mom had a huge smile on her face. Her smile was bursting with excitement.

  “Yeah mom, what’s up?”

  She almost cut me off my sentence, she was so happy. She shouted at the top of her lungs.

  “The literary agent said she wants to champion you to help get your book published. In fact, she already contacted a publishing house that may want you under their company. The agent is here in Los Angeles and wants to see you first thing tomorrow morning!”

  I stopped typing and jumped out of my chair.

  “No way, this is amazing I can’t believe this.”

  I was in complete shock but I was overjoyed.

  “I told you, Peter. You have an incredible talent.”

  I guess mom was right because within the next month I was signed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Looking out into the crowd was a beautiful sight. Every row was full, even seats all the way to the back. Over one hundred people had come to listen to me talk. My agent set up a conference that had other authors there to speak about their book. After the conference there would be a book signing as well in the lobby. I looked down at the front row and saw all familiar faces. There was mom sitting in a very elegant black dress, and next to her was Trinity.

  My book had sold out in two bookstores within the first six months of it coming out. With the royalty money I received for signing, I bought Trinity her beautiful yellow sundress. The one that was 60’s inspired. She looked gorgeous like the special edition dolls that you’re supposed to leave in their cases. Of course, her stepmother who she has a better relationship with now, father, and brother were next to her.

  They were here to support me. On the other side of my mother was Kent Marker and his son. He had called him like I suggested, and they’ve been building up their relationship since. Mr. Marker now is a manager of a music store. The store sells Cd’s, vinyl, and everything in between. As a side job, he is also a motivational speaker to teens and young adults.

  I started to finish up my speech.

  “I want to thank first my biological mother June. Next up I want to thank my second mother, Ms. Sung and Mr. Marker, for being my heroes. Trinity King my beautiful girlfriend, and X. If I didn’t have you guys in my life I wouldn’t be here at all. Thank you all for coming out to listen to me talk and making this story a success.”

  People were in awe when
I looked up. I looked out into the audience and smiled.

  “My name is Peter Jones and this has been my story, For the Love of Peter Jones.”

  Everyone started standing up and clapping for me. For once in a very long time everyone was looking at me, and not in a bad way. I shook hands with my literary agent and the man who owned the publishing house I was signed with.

  I made my way to the front row I told all my family and friends that they could come backstage. There was a room all set up for family and friends once I was done speaking.

  Once we were all backstage I gave my mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then I walked up to Trinity and kissed her on the lips. Her father interrupted.

  “Let’s keep it PG please.”

  We all laughed at that and my mother said, “I like that idea, PG only please.” Trinity and I rolled our eyes and laughed a little. We ended up holding hands for our parents sake.

  All of us were going around and were eating some treats that were provided. A guy popped up and said that I should come out in five minutes to greet my fans and sign autograph copies of my book. I shook my head.

  “That’s great I’ll be out soon.”

  Before he closed the door he alerted me to the fact that I had a visitor. I told the man to let the person in and to my shock it was my father.

  Everyone in the room fell silent and seemed as shocked as I was. My father was crying.

  “Peter, I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I have sobered up and I got rid of Jessica, she was no good. I’m sorry I abandoned you and wasn’t there when you needed me the most. I failed you as a parent. I want and need my son back.”

  So many emotions came rushing back, but hate wasn’t one of them.

  I looked at my father, he had lost weight but he looked good. His face was clean shaving and he wasn’t slurring his words. His brown eyes weren’t dull like in the past. Dad stood up straight. He stood an inch taller than me, and his build was slim but looked like it could accomplish heavy duty work.