Jack in the Blog

Young Love

Ryan inched the newspaper forward for a quick peek at this son. The boy dropped down on the opposite end of the couch five minutes ago and had yet to make his move. Stillness in the living room for that long was a sure sign of trouble brewing in teen paradise. Ryan's single sidelong glance was enough to pick up all the signs. Head on fist; check. Vacant stare--check. All that was missing was...
Across the couch Jimmy forced the air from his lungs.
...a forlorn sigh. Yep, all signs present and accounted for. Ryan had one chance of escape. He shifted the paper again to peer around the other corner at his wife. Ryan's brows jumped up and down, followed by a quick jerk of the head in Jimmy's direction. Peg's lower lip and right shoulder lifted a fraction of an inch before she remembered a matter of grave importance in the kitchen and fled. Forsaken, Ryan folded the paper into his lap and turned to look at his son.
"Be careful what you wish for," Ryan's father told him when Ryan announced he and Peg were going to try and have a baby.
"Why'd he wait until I was nearly forty to get so smart," Ryan asked himself.
Jimmy caught his father's shift of position. "I have a problem," he muttered.
"Really? You're kidding?"
The feigned surprise was almost too much. Storm clouds blew across Jimmy's face.
"Dad," he said.
The single, drawn out title brought a smile to Ryan's lips.
"Okay," Ryan said. "Let's have it. What's bothering you?"
Jimmy studied the tops of his Nikes; wiped his hands on his jeans and sighed again.
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
The question caught Ryan flat-footed. The sincerity in Jimmy's eyes did the rest.
"What?" Ryan stumbled, his hold on fatherly composure spinning. "No; of course not. Where did that come from?"
Jimmy shrugged. The renewed interest in his Nikes lasted a full minute before his hand braced on the arm of the sofa.
"Wait," Ryan said. "Let's talk about this."
Jimmy open his mouth and closed it again. The shrug was back.
"Look," Ryan started over. "There's a lot of unexplained things in this world. Most of them disappear with a little study. Help me out here."
"Do you remember Leah Thompson?" Jimmy asked.
"From you trig class. She's the one who died recently; some kind of lung disease."
"Cystic fibrosis," Jimmy supplied the name. "Yeah, that's her."
"Pretty girl. I remember," Ryan said. "I remember you were kind of sweet on her."
The flush that rose in Jimmy's cheeks was swept away seconds later by a weight that settled over him. A tear worked its way to the corner of Jimmy's eye.
"I... I... never told her that," he said.
Ryan set aside his paper and laid a hand on Jimmy's arm. The silence touch whispered an incantation of unity.
"Son," Ryan said. "I don't know much about women and don't you ever believe any man who says he does. But, I know this. If you liked that girl, she knew it long before you did."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," Ryan assured him. "Now what's this about ghosts?"
"Nothing really, I was like wondering what happens to people when they die. I mean do we just wink out or do we go on somehow? You know like ghosts or spirits or something."
"A question men have been asking since we sat by the fire in our cave," Ryan told him. "It comes with as many answers as people thinking about it."
"What do you think?"
"Well, I don't believe in all that heaven and hell stuff. If there is a God, He is love and God is forever. So, I suppose the good and love in us goes on forever. It's only the bad that's lost. Does that make sense to you?"
"Thanks Dad." Jimmy's crumpled features filled with renewed teen hope. Jimmy was up and climbing the stairs two at a time. At the top, he turned back to his father. "Oh, and nobody says "sweet on" anymore."

"That was amazing," Peg said from the kitchen when Jimmy was gone. "I had no idea you were such a philosopher."
"Yeah, well what can I say?" Ryan said. "You're a lucky woman."
Peg ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head. "Leah has been dead for months. I wonder what brought on his sudden interest?"
"He's a teenager," Ryan explained. "Who knows what goes on inside that head?"
"If you say so, but it sounds like more than the usual teen angst." Peg dropped down on the couch and summoned NCIS. Mark Harmon was so hot.
Ryan tried to go back to his paper. His heart was no longer in it. The ghost of Sunday sermons past had awakened. Was the picture of eternity he just gave is son more wishful than factual?

On his way to bed Ryan eased open his son's door. Jimmy was at his computer. A world of trolls and zombies was just visible over  Jimmy's shoulder.
"The things kids play today; I'll stick to Farmville," Ryan told himself and pushed the door closed.
"Okay, he's gone," a voice said. "But we'd better go to IM so they don't hear."
Jimmy tapped his finger and a message box appeared; plastic keys clattered.
"How come you never told me," Jimmy's fingers hovered over the keyboard, "before?"
"I was scared. I still am--a little. But I wouldn't be if you were here with me."
"Are you sure it's okay?"
"Did you ask your father?"
"Yeah. He said love goes on."
"See, I told you. I love you Jimmy. Bring flowers."
The screen when black. It would do no good to try and reconnect; she was gone for the night.


The next morning a one word message from Leah appeared on Jimmy's wall. They were taking it to the next level---at last. Jimmy didn't care what she called it. He knew where he wished to go and that was good enough; no matter how many levels it took to get there.
Ryan wasn't happy with his son's new screen saver. Cemeteries gave him the creeps. But, it wasn't something he was ready to fight with Jimmy about.
"Choose your battles carefully," he reminded himself.
Ryan figured the boy's fascination with his classmate's grave would pass soon enough, especially now that there was a new girl in his life. Ryan hadn't met this new one yet. He didn't know her name, but, he knew she was out there. Jimmy had been talking to her for a week. He ought to tell Jimmy that his room wasn't sound proof. Maybe--some day. For now, the boy had quit moping round and talking about ghosts and dying. Ryan had only caught a few words anyway. Flowers had been one of them. He slipped Jimmy a couple twenties across the breakfast table.
"Just in case you want to do something nice for someone," he said. "Your mom always liked roses."

Peg was waiting for Ryan at the door. The excitement in her eyes and the smile spread across her face told him Jimmy had taken the old man's advice. As soon as Ryan was inside Peg launched herself into his arms.
"Have I told you lately that I love you?" she asked.
"No, but it looks like love is in the air." Ryan's voice dropped slightly. "Did he get her roses?"
"Red ones," she said with a wink. "I saw him take them up to his room."
An hour passed without Jimmy asking to borrow the car. When that hour became two, Peg began to pace. She tried several times to shoo Ryan upstairs. He resisted as long as he could, but when the sun went down, it was time to act. With Peg in tow, Ryan crept up the stairs into a strange quiet. There was no music; no phone conversation to over hear; no even the clack of a keyboard. Ryan shrugged and knocked on Jimmy's door.
No answer.
He tried again; louder. When no answer came, he tried the doorknob. It turned freely in his hand. Ryan eased the door open. The lights were on; the window closed, but the room was empty. There was no sign of Jimmy or his roses.
"He wouldn't just sneak out. Not after you.." Peg stopped short. "What's wrong?"
She followed her husband's eyes to Jimmy's new screensaver. Leah Benjamin's grave was decorated with red roses. A horrible impossibility turned Ryan's face a pasty gray.
"What's Skype?" he asked.