CHAPTER TWELVE
Manipulations
March 11th, 2012
It was past midnight when Paul and Alma got back to Rachel’s apartment. Jacker was smoking a cigarette on the front steps when they pulled up. He waved at them and Paul stopped Alma from approaching once he turned off the bike.
“Do me a favor, babe,” said Paul. “Just head on inside. Let me talk to him.”
“Why?” asked Alma. “What’s the matter?”
Paul didn’t want to say. “Just trust me on this one.”
Alma set her helmet on the back of Paul’s bike and then walked towards the apartment. She waved at Jacker as she passed before Paul sat down beside his friend.
“They went to bed,” said Jacker. “Door’s unlocked.”
“Okay,” said Alma. “See you guys inside in a bit.” She was hesitant to close the door, as if afraid to leave Paul alone with the big man.
Once the door closed, Paul got out a cigarette and lit it. The two of them sat on the steps in the chilly night air and smoked in silence as a cricket chirped from the nearby bushes.
Jacker finished his cigarette first and flicked it out into the street. “I almost lost it, man.”
“I know,” said Paul. He hadn’t been certain Jacker would say anything, and he would’ve been okay with that as well. He was here to support his friend in whatever way Jacker needed, even if that meant just sitting in silence. “I could see it on your face when I got here. What happened?”
Jacker looked back at the apartment to make sure the window wasn’t open. “Rachel was asking about Debbie, and it just brought it all back, man. Rachel didn’t mean anything by it. She’s just one of those people that ask too many questions.”
“That’s her job,” said Paul.
“I know. I’m not mad at her or anything. I just had a tough time dealing with it.”
“You stink like bourbon.”
Jacker cupped his hand over his mouth so that his breath went back into his nose. “Do I?”
“Yeah, man. Bad.”
“I hit the bottle pretty hard. I’m not sure I’m like you, Paul. I don’t know if I can drink and still be sober – from the hard stuff, you know what I mean. I pounded shots, but man, I’d give anything for a hit.” He looked at the crook of his arm. “I think drinking just makes it worse for me.”
“Well then don’t drink.”
Jacker snickered at the suggestion. “Easier said than done, brother.”
“No truer words have ever been said, but we’ve just got to deal with it.” Paul nearly finished his cigarette as they sat silent for another long moment. “Tell you what, I’ll quit drinking too. We’ll quit everything together.”
“No, man,” said Jacker. “You don’t need to do that. You’ve got your shit straight. Don’t go switching it up for me.”
“Hey, Jacker.” Paul punched his friend on the shoulder and smiled. “How about you shut the fuck up and let me do something nice for you for a change?”
“Honestly, Paul, you don’t have to do that.”
Paul grumbled and then changed his tone, “Remember a couple months ago, when I called you in the middle of the night, high as a kite?”
“How could I forget?”
“I was crying like an asshole, and you came right over to pick me up. You bought me dinner over at the Mexican place on Taft.”
“Uncle Julio’s,” said Jacker, recalling the name of the restaurant. “Fucking amazing burritos.”
“There’s something I never told you about that night.”
“What’s that?” asked Jacker.
“I was going to hang myself.”
Jacker sat up straight and grimaced. “What the fuck? Are you serious?”
Paul nodded and glanced back at the front door to make sure Alma wasn’t eavesdropping. “Yeah. I’ve still got the noose back at my place. It’s hanging in my closet as a reminder of how low I got.”
“Fuck, man,” said Jacker. “I wish you would’ve said something. I could’ve…”
“You did everything you needed to,” said Paul. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. But I had a person I could rely on, and I owe you for that.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” said Jacker.
“Yes I do.” Paul put his hand on the back of Jacker’s neck and squeezed as he shook the man back a forth a little. “I need you, big guy. So if turning down a few beers here and there will help you out, you’d better believe I’m going to do it. Understood?”
“Okay, but you’ve got to do something else for me,” said Jacker.
“If you ask me to give you a blowjob, our friendship is going to get mighty awkward all of the sudden.”
“Oh,” said Jacker. “Then never mind, I guess.” They laughed and then Jacker said, “Throw out that noose. Or better yet, burn it.”
Paul stamped out his cigarette on the step and then put out his hand for Jacker to shake. “Deal.”
Jacker shook his friend’s hand and then added, “By the way, Alma is fucking gorgeous, man.”
Paul looked back at the door to the apartment. “Yeah, thanks. She knocked my socks off when she got back from shopping with Rachel. Don’t get me wrong, I always thought she was beautiful, but holy shit. A hair cut and some make-up go a long way.”
“It’s more than that,” said Jacker. “She loves you. Any idiot can see that. When she’s with you, she looks happy. Bear with me here, cause I’m about to sound like a chick, but seeing you two together has made me believe in love again.”
“Holy shit, bro,” said Paul. “You are sounding like a chick. What the hell did they do to you in there?” He pointed back at Stephen and Rachel’s apartment.
Jacker laughed and then threatened to punch Paul, who feigned a flinch. “I’m serious, man. The past six months that I’ve known you, I’ve been trying to convince you to give up on her. I wanted you to move on because I was worried that your whole ‘true love’ thing was bullshit. I just wanted to tell you that I was wrong. Seeing you two together…” he shrugged and tried to come to terms with what he was feeling. “I don’t know, it just makes me feel good. I never felt that way about Debbie. I think I stayed with her because she didn’t bitch too much when I touched her boobs.”
“Forget her, man,” said Paul. “We’ll find someone for you. You’re too good a guy to be wasted on a tramp like that.”
“Two years clean,” said Jacker, “right down the drain because of that bitch.”
“Every day’s a struggle, man,” said Paul. “And every day sober is a win. Doesn’t matter if it’s been two years or two days. You’re the one that taught me that.”
“Does that make you my sponsor now?”
“Shit,” said Paul as he pretended to be deep in thought. “I guess you’re right. Oh man, you’re fucked.” They laughed and Paul reached into his pocket to pull out his sobriety coin. He offered it to Jacker.
“What’s this for?”
“I wouldn’t have it if it weren’t for you. Figure I owe it to you.”
Jacker took the coin and clasped it tightly.