Page 16 of Parrish

Chapter Seven

Jack Parrish

On the brink of another manic episode, I reluctantly sent Reina to pick up our son, losing the opportunity of watching him run from the building and into my arms one final time. It’s just another loss for Parrish and another win for the maker but that bitch won’t get any more wins while I’m still free.

Once Reina and Grace left, I went up to our bedroom, into the bathroom and I stared at the bottle of Lithium wishing it was still my crutch in this wicked web of survival. Taking the new medication wasn’t an option. I had less than twenty-four hours on the outside and I wasn’t going to spend a second of it sick, so I took my chances, downed some Lithium and chased it with a shot of whiskey before sending a prayer up to the big guy that I didn’t fucking drop dead.

I laid down for an hour until I heard Reina’s Audi pull into the driveway. Forcing myself out of bed, I threw some cold water on my face and waited for the voices to return. By some miracle of God, I was granted peace and quiet. However, I know the game as well as my maker knows how to play it.

She’s always quiet at first, giving me that false sense of hope and waits until the perfect moment to wreak havoc. When you’re living on borrowed time, you don’t wait for hell to strike; you push forward and take what you can get.

Now, here I am walking hand-in-hand with my son, towards my bike.

Memories—make them, because sometimes that’s all you got to give.

Lifting Danny onto my bike, I climb on behind him and place his tiny hands around the handlebars as I nuzzle the top of his head, breathing in the fresh scent of his shampoo.

“Just like that,” I tell him, staring at our joined hands circling the chrome. His are so pure compared to mine which are covered in filth, blood and mayhem.

“When I grow up will you teach me how to ride?”

As the question leaves his lips, my chest constricts.

After my son, Jack Jr. passed away, I would sit at his grave and tell him about all the hopes and dreams I had for us. How I wished I had the chance to teach him how to throw a ball or take him to his first baseball game. The fundamentals of being a man and how to treat a woman.

As time went on, I started to tell myself he was too good for this world and that’s why God gave him wings. The man upstairs knew I wasn’t fit to be his father and that I’d probably ruin him so, he took him from me.

But the good Lord must’ve took pity on me because he gave me a second chance by giving me another perfect son and this time, I swore I’d be worthy of the honor of being his father. It pains me to look into his innocent eyes and know I’ve failed him as I did his brother but part of me hopes my absence in his life will shelter him from living a life of sin.

“Will you daddy?”

Forcing my attention back to him, I struggle to find a way to answer his question. I’m not ready to say goodbye to another child.

“You know what?” I say.

Pulling my hands away, I drop them to his waist and turn him to face me. He stares at me with his big brown eyes full of wonder, hanging on my every word like I’m his messiah.

“When you grow up and you still want to ride, I think Uncle Pipe and Uncle Wolf would be better off teaching you, seeing as they taught me.”

“Really? They taught you how to ride?”

“Sure did,” I say hoarsely, brushing his blonde hair away from his face. Aside from the light hair, it’s uncanny how much he resembles Junior. “But I tell you what, when you’re ready, this bike here, will be yours.”

His eyes widen as I pat the side of the engine and smile at him.

“But what will you ride then?”

“Don’t you worry about that, okay?” I tell him, touching my hand to his cheek. “You just take good care of her and be safe.”

“Okay daddy,” he says.

My throat goes dry and I force a smile. Bending my head, I touch my forehead to his and stare into his eyes. I spent my whole life trying to leave my mark on the world and now, I know my efforts were wasted.

My gift to the world is this boy.

“I need a favor from you, Danny,” I rasp. “I need you to take care of your mom for me.”

“Isn’t that your job?” he asks with confusion playing on his face.

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