Keeping the Tarnished Page 3

  “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry if I smell bad,” Johnny replied as he turned his eyes toward the floor.

  Jackson started laughing as he looked at Johnny. “I didn’t mean that at all, Johnny. I’ve been working with horses all day, I probably smell bad.”

  Johnny broke his gaze from the floor long enough to look briefly at Jackson and smile.

  “What exactly is your job?” Johnny asked.

  “I’m a concierge veterinarian. That just means I don’t work a regular nine-to-five schedule, and my wife teaches English at my son’s high school.”

  “And your boy is my age? You don’t look old enough to have a boy my age.”

  “I just turned thirty-eight. I’m sure the gray will set in soon enough.”

  “I just wanna say thank you, sir. I really do appreciate this.”

  Jackson noticed the teen boasting an appreciative smile. “Well, you just smile all you want there, bud. You’re going to be grinning from ear to ear when you taste my wife’s cooking.”

  Some souls burn out once they have reached a certain level of adversity. Perhaps Johnny’s was close to this point, understandably, but Jackson saw something in him. He saw a recognizable characteristic that he could see in himself and his own son.

  As they turned off the highway onto the dirt road, Jackson took notice of Johnny’s reaction to seeing the Everett’s home come into view. By the American standard, the house was very elegant and quite large; however, it was actually rather modest in regard to the annual income the couple brought in and the inheritance they were sitting on. The drive leading to the two-story, white house was lined with large, white rocks. The house had dark blue shutters, and a huge front porch, complete with a white, hanging, porch swing. To the side of the house was a detached four-car garage, white as well. On the left side of the house was a horse stable with a large pasture behind it. There was also a large, red barn behind the garage with pens.

  Four large dogs barked out the warning of the approaching vehicle as they came charging down the drive. “Well, here comes Sampson, Stella, Sunny, and Toby.”

  Johnny leaned forward, smiling largely as he watched them approach. The dogs appeared to be mix breeds, except one shepherd. There were two yellow lab mixes, and a large black dog too.

  “Did you have a dog back home, Johnny?”

  “Yea, well, kinda, but she drowned when she was still a pup.”

  As the car came to a stop, Jackson put it in park and turned toward Johnny, who was now looking out the window, still smiling at the dogs.

  “She…she drowned? How did she drown?”

  Johnny turned and looked at Jackson with a solemn gaze. “In the pond,” he said hastily, returning his glance immediately to the house and the dogs outside the vehicle.

  Before Jackson could respond, the front door of the house opened.

  The light from the inside of the house lit up some of the plants that were hanging from the ceiling of the porch, which was covered and was as wide as the entire front of the house as it wrapped around the right side of the house and went back several feet.

  The evening was completely still. Someone could have lit a long-stem candle in the middle of the yard and the flame would have remained pointing completely skyward. The air was thick and muggy, but the fireflies and singing birds seemed to add a certain enchantment to the property. Behind the red barn was an abundance of trees and thick brush. In fact, other than the yard, and the cleared pasture, all the surrounding acreage was woodland with huge beautiful trees draped in moss.

  As Jackson’s son, Jared, came out of the open door of the house, Jackson noted that he and Johnny could almost pass for brothers. They were about the same height, around five foot eight inches, and both had dark hair. Jared was more filled out, he even had a small amount of baby fat on him. This was, no doubt, the product of adequate nutrition.

  “Well, there’s the man of the hour, Mr. Jared Everett,” Jackson said as he smiled at his son, who jumped off the porch and was now jogging toward the car in gray sweatpants and white t-shirt. Jackson assumed Jared was the type of kid that fathers would want their daughters to bring home. He was genuinely kind to about everyone he came across, and was extremely respectable in most cases.

  “What’s up, Pops?” the boy asked while smiling in an inviting manner. He leaned into his father’s window, bent over slightly with his hands resting on his knees. “You must be Johnny. So, it’s Jackson, Jared, and Johnny. That’s gonna be confusing as hell for Mom tonight,” Jared said, as he was obviously attempting to ease the situation with sarcasm.

  “Hey, watch your mouth in front of our guest, dork,” Jackson snapped as he ruffled Jared’s hair with his hand.

  “Yea, yea, Pops. Johnny, I hope you’re hungry, man. Mom made enough food to feed a horse, if horses ate fried chicken,” Jared said happily as he continued looking through the window.

  “I am. I’m dog-tired too,” Johnny replied.

  A little girl came charging toward the car. Jackson adored her precious smile and found her beautiful, even when boasting a mess of brown, ratted hair. “And here comes Miss Bryce, filthy as ever,” Jackson said, shaking his head.

  Johnny broke his gaze from the small girl and turned to Jackson.

  “Bryce? That’s a really pretty name. I like it,” he said, as the girl reached the car.

  “Well, I like it too, sir. I like it too,” Jackson replied as he continued watching his daughter.

  “Daddy!” the girl shrieked happily. “Daddy, I wanna see the new boy, I wanna see him.” Her little fingers appeared on the window seal of her father’s car door as she tried to pull herself up to see.

  The new boy. Jackson thought the title almost sounded permanent. He certainly didn’t want to give the teenager any misguided impression that the one-night offer would become anything more. “Hold on there, little bit,” Jackson said sternly, “that new boy has a name; Johnny,” Jackson said to the chipper little girl.

  She let go of the door and raced around to the other side of the car to open Johnny’s door. She vigorously attempted to open the door, but she didn’t have the strength.

  Johnny, smiling, opened the door from the inside.

  She looked at his face briefly, and then wrapped her arms around his waist, seatbelt and all. “You’re very cute,” the little girl said with an innocent smile.

  “Well, so are you, Bryce,” Johnny replied.

  “You boys hungry?” asked a lovely voice from the doorway of the house. “You better be!” the voice continued.

  Jackson looked up to see his beautiful wife in the doorway of the house. The sun was beginning to set and the string of yard lights on either side of the white porch stairs began to light up. The woman looked angelic while walking down the stairs of the porch. She was slender, had dark brown hair, and a gorgeous, welcoming smile. She was wearing an oversized, white t-shirt and red basketball shorts, and she was barefoot as she walked across the plush, green grass toward the car.

  Jackson could sense Johnny appeared understandably overwhelmed. The boy smiled and seemed to be making a valiant effort to connect with each member of the family, yet he appeared tense and uneasy. The tension seemed to almost lift from the boy’s shoulders as Graye approached him.

  “You must be Mr. Johnny,” the woman said, looking down at the sitting boy.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said, smiling back at her.

  “Well, it is certainly a pleasure to meet you.” The woman was still smiling as she extended her hand to shake his.

  As Jackson watched the interaction, he couldn’t help but wonder of Johnny’s mother; what she was like, and how she could have simply lost touch with her son. Jackson was typically always aware of Jared’s whereabouts and couldn’t imagine the boy being halfway across the state without his knowledge.

  The interaction between his wife and Johnny felt easy and unforced. This began to settle Jackson’s nerves too. He was thankful that Graye was receptive to the idea of assisting the young
man. He imagined his own boy, lost, broke, and crying at gas station far from home. The thought broke his heart.

  “Come on, sweetheart, supper’s waiting inside,” Graye said sweetly with a comforting tone.

  Chapter Seven

  Clean

  Graye

  As she removed the clothing from the book bag, she noticed not one, but two live roaches crawling about in the bag. The clothes were truly pathetic. There were so many stains, and the shirts were worn and faded. The bag, and its contents, smelled like a stale ashtray. The shirts had several burn holes in them as well. Even if the boy smoked, there was no way he accidently burned himself that many times.

  The laundry room, like the rest of the house, was white, bright, and beautiful, and the bag of disgusting clothing was in total contrast. The room was off the kitchen, and boasted a beautiful granite countertop just above both of the front load appliances. The granite matched that of the kitchen and three bathrooms, a dark brown. It contrasted well next to the bright white walls. The entire house, both stories and the basement, had dark hardwood flooring. Graye was assured everything appeared crisp and clean with a rigorous cleaning schedule.

  As she looked at the boy’s clothing, she felt an overwhelming urge to cry. What was this kid’s story? Although her gut was telling her the boy was harmless, she had to be practical about the situation. She had to make sure her family was safe; however, she was already thinking along the same lines as her husband. The boy seemed to have been through so much. He needed a rest, some reassurance, and the love only a happy family could provide. He needed to mend.

  There was something that drew her to him. He had only been in her house for about forty-five minutes, and already she was envisioning how they would decorate the guest room to better suit another teenage boy.

  “Sad, isn’t it?” Jackson asked, standing in the doorway of the laundry room.

  “Sad isn’t the word. This seriously makes me want to cry and just, just hug the kid,” Graye replied with a disgusted look on her face. “Jackson, there are roaches in his clothes.” Graye heard the desperation in her own voice as she turned toward her husband, their son Jared appearing with a mouth full of hot rolls.

  “Roaches?” the boy mumbled as he chewed his food loudly.

  “Jared!” his mother scolded him sharply. “What have I told you about listening in on your father and me? And you are going to ruin your appetite before we all get sat down for supper,” she continued as she looked once more in the tattered book bag.

  “I doubt that,” Jackson said, chuckling as he looked at his son.

  “Mom, how’d he get roaches in his clothes?” the boy asked with concern in his voice.

  “We can’t keep them in the house. We can’t let him wear them, they’re disgusting,” Graye said as she held up a pair of worn-out jeans, ignoring her son’s question. “I’ll pick him up some new things when I take Bryce to piano tomorrow,” the woman continued assuredly.

  “We’re buying him clothes? Okay. But if this boy eats as much as Jared, I may have to see about getting another job,” Jackson said playfully.

  “Mom, he can have my jeans from last year. They’re too small thanks to you, and I still have them in my closet. I bet there’s at least seven pairs. I’ll go look and see.” Jared had already offered the newcomer an unopened package of boxer shorts, some socks, some old sweats, and a t-shirt to sleep in, before Graye showed him to the guest bathroom upstairs. “I’m sure I have some shirts I never wear too,” Jared said as he turned to head for the staircase in the living room.

  Graye watched her son exit, thankful for the undeniably strong and loving relationship she had with the boy. He truly was a good kid. She and his father had every reason to hold him in such high regards.

  “Momma, I’m hungry,” said an impatient little Bryce as she came walking through the kitchen toward the laundry room.

  “Honey, as soon as Johnny gets downstairs we will sit down and eat ’til it comes out of our ears.” Graye was eager to get Johnny fed, as she was unsure when the last time he ate was.

  “Momma,” the small girl continued, “can we keep him? Can we keep Johnny?”

  “He’s not a dog,” Jackson chimed in, placing his hand on Bryce’s head and looking down at her.

  “There will be no more talk about keeping anyone. Understand?” Graye followed up in a scolding tone and disapproving look.

  “Yes, I understand.” The little girl rolled her eyes as she inhaled deeply and completed a goofy circular ballerina twirl. She then ran back through the kitchen.

  ***

  Johnny

  Johnny was enjoying a much needed shower. He thought the steam and refreshing water was liberating. He had never been in a bathroom as nice as the Everetts’ before. Everything was fresh, clean, and smelled of fabric softener and soap. The water pressure was almost too much, as the hot water washed away the filth of the bus. He felt as if the day was literally washing off him. Completely covered in lathery suds, the boy washed his hair, yet again. He then heard his stomach growl, reminding him there was supper downstairs.

  He hadn’t necessarily been plucked from poverty; rather, he coincidentally fell into the lap of a family that was about as goodhearted as they come. In his mind, at this point, he knew his future was uncertain. However, he also knew he was rinsing off in a hot shower, he had a meal waiting for him downstairs, and he had a bed to sleep in for the night. That was more than he could have expected his first night after making his escape.

  Stepping out of the shower onto the plush, white rug, Johnny grabbed the towel Graye had given him off the granite counter. His head remained tilted toward the ceiling until the towel was securely snug around his waist. Of all the things on this earth that horrified him, none scared him as much as the sight of a naked adult man. His own body was no exception. He had not looked at himself in the mirror unclothed intentionally in over three years.

  Moving toward the toilet, free of his reflection, he removed the towel and dried off. The towel had a refreshing scent to it, and reminded Johnny of the honeysuckle when it bloomed near the pond by his father’s house.

  Graye had also given him a brand new toothbrush. He found it fascinating that the family had a reserve of toothbrushes, deodorant, and other personal items in the towel closet of the upstairs hallway.

  Johnny’s toothbrush at his father’s house was the same one he had gotten from a class trip to the dentist office when he was in elementary school. Johnny took pride in his smile. His personal hygiene was one of the few factors he had moderate control over. He would often scrub his clothing for hours in his father’s old bath water. More than once at his father’s house he had brushed his teeth with hand soap, as the household was frequently out of toothpaste and other toiletries. He wanted to brush his teeth now. He knew he would be eating soon, but he didn’t care, he wanted to brush his teeth with a brand new brush.

  The boy opened the new package of underwear. His underwear had holes, as they were several years old. His mother bought his underwear long before she left. Now he had new pairs, and he would be wearing the fresh, clean clothes Jared had given him. The socks felt so good on his tired feet, and Jared’s clothes were so comfortable and fit him just right.

  He looked at his pile of dirty clothes by the door and almost felt ashamed to have to wear such things in front of such nice people. He then reminded himself that it was out of his control. His entire existence was out of his control, and feeling ashamed and humiliated would solve nothing. He collected his brand new toothbrush, the opened underwear package, and the pile of dirty clothes, and opened the bathroom door. The boy nervously made his way down the hall and down the stairs. Graye placed a large pitcher of tea on the table just as Johnny entered the kitchen. Everything smelled delicious.

  Jared and Graye were placing items on the gorgeous oak wood table and carrying on casual conversation. They had to add the leaf to the table to ensure they had enough room to sit all five people comfortably. There wa
s a large serving platter with the biggest pile of fried chicken Johnny had ever seen; a big, square, wooden dish full of fresh green salad; and another bowl full of rolls.

  “You about ready to throw down, man?” Jared asked as he pulled out his chair from under the table.

  “Throw down?” Johnny asked Jared curiously as he stood near the table with his pile of filthy clothes.

  “You’ll have to forgive my son. He frequently butchers the English language,” Graye said, smiling at Johnny. He could feel water running from his wet hair down the back of his neck. “Let me take these clothes and throw them in the wash with the others.” Graye grabbed the clothes from Johnny and turned to walk to the laundry room.

  “Thank you,” Johnny said appreciatively as she walked away.

  “Why, you sure are welcome, sweetheart. Grab a plate and start loading up!” Graye hollered back from the laundry room.

  “Feel better, bud?” asked Jackson, who came walking in from the living room with a fresh faced Bryce. He had changed his clothes and freshened up too. Maybe he really was dirty from working with horses. Johnny believed the man had only told him that so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable for being so horrendously filthy.

  “I feel great. The water here works really good,” Johnny replied as he anticipated eating.

  “Well, that’s good to hear. Here’s a plate. I hope you’re ready to throw down,” Jackson said as he handed a white porcelain plate to the boy.

  “Pops, don’t butcher the English language,” Jared said sarcastically as he loaded a large amount of mashed potatoes onto his plate. Jackson looked at his son, a bit confused, and shrugged. Johnny had only witnessed the interaction between Jared and his father for half an hour, yet he could recognize several similarities in their mannerisms.

  The entire family was now circling the table, loading their plates in a most unconventional manner. The families on TV sat down around the table, and the words, “Will you please pass,” were redundantly muttered. Not here, not this family. Johnny didn’t mind. The unconventional table manners were nothing to take note of as his father’s kitchen was usually cluttered with gas cans, various tools, and the occasional car part.