Secrets and Lies | ✔️

Chapter 13 - Jackson

Chapter 13 - Jackson

He moved through the Oklahoma Interstate rest area with the grace of a hunting panther—smooth, confident, ready for the kill. He made eye contact with strangers, something he normally would have avoided, practicing his smile and soft, southern accent.

The travelers he encountered made his skin prickle with distaste. Dirty truck drivers stopping in for a mid-morning shower and loud, obnoxious families traveling on vacation. . . The very reasons he steered clear of most public places, with the exception of a few safe locations back in Washington State. One couldn't be too careful when mingling with the public. There were too many unsavory people in the world who would just as soon kill you as look at you. He watched the news, he read the newspapers. Kids were killing kids over a silly pair of sneakers or some other foolish sports apparel, or video game—it was ridiculous! Now here he was, walking among the masses. Overweight women wearing polyester moo-moos, and unkempt men in dirty shirts and unpressed pants.

Jackson cringed. Here was one now. This ignorant person doesn't even know how to drink coffee without spilling half of it down the front of himself! he thought as he watched a young man fervently rubbing a mocha-colored stain from the fabric of his tie. He pursed his lips together before moving forward.

"Here, son," Jackson drawled, approaching the frustrated man. "I've made the same mistake your making." He pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his jacket, moistened it with spring water from his bottle, then squared up to the man and began dabbing at the stain. "You're just helping the stain set by rubbing it in roughly like that. You need to treat it properly on a nice tie like this." Jackson made a careful attempt to hide the sour taste in his mouth. Nice tie my ass. It looks like it came off the sale's rack at Walmart. Not that he'd ever been in such a place.

Gingerly, he worked at the stain until it finally disappeared. "Perfect," he said, giving the stunned man a smile. "It's as good as new."

Relieved, the man looked down at his tie then back up at Jackson, his eyes wide with surprise. "Thank you so much! I'm on my way to a job interview and I'd hate to show up looking like a bum."

Yeah, good luck with that. "Really? Well, I guess I came along just in time. What position are you applying for?"

The man's face clouded over momentarily. "I've been employed as a carpenter for the past six years, but I spend more time laid off than I do working these days. I'm going to try for something new, a job that's a little more stable in this economy. The railroad is looking to fill a few positions, I'm really hoping I can get in there. I have a new wife and a baby on the way. I could use more money than what unemployment pays out."

Jackson nodded his head in understanding. "Of course. That makes perfect sense." Although it didn't make sense at all. How about go to college and get a proper education? That way you can find a decent career instead of these pathetic nickel and dime jobs. "I wish you the best of luck. But you're looking so dapper in that suit, I'm sure you won't have a problem. They'd be crazy not to hire a young man like you."

The man smiled gratefully. "Thank you. I appreciate you saying that. You know, you really saved my hide. If I don't get this job my wife's going to kill me!"

"Well, now. We can't have that, can we? Here you go," Jackson said, handing the man the handkerchief. "Why don't you keep this? Just in case you spill more coffee on yourself. I've got another one in my car."

The young man's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you certain? I'd hate to inconvenience you."

"Nonsense. It's no inconvenience at all." He shook the man's hand. "Now you better get going, son. It's best to show up to an interview early. It let's the employer know you're ready to work."

"This is so nice of you. Really, I can't thank you enough. You're not from around here, are you?" the man asked curiously, returning his hand shake with a grip limper than Jackson could stand, signifying a lack in confidence, no doubt.

He shook his head. "How can you tell?"

"I just can," he stated proudly. "I guess it's true what they say about southern hospitality. Out this way, people are not nearly as helpful. No one wants to do anything for anyone else unless there's something in it for them. I think folks in the Midwest and Great Plains tend to be a more cynical bunch. The Deep South . . . people much kinder there."

Jackson chuckled. At least now he knew the accent was believable. "Well, the purpose in life is not to be happy, it's to be helpful. To make a difference in the lives of others. At least, that's what my daddy always said." Ha! Right before he passed out cold. What a crock of shit! But by the look of awe on the young man's face it was obvious he was eating up every word.

"Well, your daddy was a wise man. Thank you again, sir."

Jackson forced a smile before turning away. When was the last time he'd spoken with someone like that—someone so  . . . common? It'd been such a long time he couldn't even remember. The suit the man was wearing was wrinkled and obviously not tailored, plus he was in desperate need of a close shave. Oh, well. It wasn't for him to worry about. At least he'd done him a favor helping out with the stain. But the coffee stain is the least of that man's problems.

Jackson looked at the Rolex on his wrist and smiled. He was making good time. He hadn't been sure how long it would take him to get from Seattle to southern Florida, given traffic and construction along the way. And of course, the story he'd made up about visiting his parents had been an outright lie. Even if they were still alive, there'd be no way he would stop by. As it were, he hadn't seen either one of them in years before they'd passed away. Why would he? He had absolutely no use for them. They'd barely even raised him, more like he raised them—they'd been too preoccupied with the bottle. And as soon as it was legal for him to leave home he'd done it, and never once looked back. No regrets.

Pensively, he stared at the passing cars outside the rest area window, his thoughts drifting back to his turbulent past. It'd been many years since he'd seen his own child, and now he'd passed away, too. The difference between him and his son was that Steven had it easy growing up. He didn't have to deal with two, alcoholic parents. He didn't have to sit by and watch as his mother had seizures from not knowing when to stop, or live in a constant state of servitude with his father. No, his son had it much, much easier than him.

Suddenly, Jackson shook his head, clearing the unwelcome thoughts from his mind. That's enough of that, now. You overcame your oppression and you're a stronger man for it. Now you must be strong enough to finish the job Steven started. Not that he was actually worried about that. His son had always been a bit of a Mama's boy. He couldn't honestly say he was surprised at how the situation had played out. When push came to shove, Steven typically failed.

Jackson squared his shoulders, a renewed sense of determination sliding alongside his veins. There was nothing he couldn't accomplish when he put his mind to it. Nothing.

And right now, his focus was on Charlie and Talia Wilson.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Uh oh. Here he comes . . .

Hello and thank you for reading Secrets and Lies! If you enjoyed this chapter I ask that you kindly remember to vote/comment. At this time, I plan to update on Fridays.

This chapter is dedicated to writer lavinialeigh! You can check out her chicklit, Sugar Lust, by going to her Wattpad profile page. It's her shiny new project for Camp NaNoWriMo! Thanks Lavinia!

A special shout out today for readers in the United States (remembering 9/11 XO), Mexico, Guatemala, New Zealand and Cuba - thank you for reading!