Page 65 of Steel & Jenna
Rodger turned his attention to Jack’s father. “John!” he smiled widely. “Been a long while. If I’d known he was asking for you, I wouldn’t have turned him down.” To Jack, he snapped, “You need to speak up, boy. Real men say what they want and mean.”
Confused, Jack nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Rodger didn’t give him a second look. “I can get you a bottle from the back, John, but I need to know you’re not driving.”
“Boy’s driving,” John said, slurring his words. Jack also pulled out his keys to show that he was the driver.
Rodger nodded once. “Wait here.”
Jack prayed there was a phone in the back that he was going to go use. If Rodger called the police, then he might be able to put all this behind him and just be late for his shift at the grocery store.
Except Rodger came back out with a large glass bottle of something bronze. Though it was full, the cap was already off.Fuck, Jack thought. The man wasn’t going to help him after all.
Rodger came around the bar and handed the opened bottle to John. “That’ll be eight dollars. Should I put it on your tab?”
John snatched the bottle from Rodger’s hand quickly, as if fearful that Rodger would try to take it away and took a long pull. When he paused to take a breath, he pointed from Jack to Rodger. “Pay the man.” And then took another long drink.
Grudgingly, Jack reached into his back pocket for his wallet. His checkbook was in his backpack and he only had enough cash on him for a tank of gas. Most of his money was in his bank account. But he pulled out a ten dollar bill from the fold.
Rodger pulled out cash from his pocket and handed Jack his change. “You two have a great day. John, don’t be a stranger,” he instructed.
As he passed Jack to return to the bar, Jack felt a small tug on his jacket pocket. He didn’t pause to look. His dad was already heading towards the door. Jack followed. Glancing over his shoulder as he reached for the door, he caught Rodger’s eye. The older man gave him a slight nod of the head. It was almost…reassuring in a way.
John Duncan had left the passenger door open in his haste to get into the bar. Still gulping down the whiskey bottle, he stumbled up into the cab.
Jack walked around to the other side. Regardless of anything else, he knew his dad was still armed with a knife. And now he was getting even drunker. Recalling all the beatings his dad had given his mom in his stupors, Jack hurried around to the driver’s side. He’d failed to get helpinside the bar. He was going to have to figure out some other way to notify Chief Cunningham and the Zarins to what was going on. Whatever his dad had planned at the Scanlon house, it wasn’t going to be good. Clearly, his dad didn’t know that Jack wasn’t allowed on the property.
Maybe that was how he could get help. If he went to the Scanlon house, one of Jenna’s parents would call the cops on him, surely. Chief Cunningham hopefully would believe Jack that he was innocent in whatever it was his dad had planned. Rodger, at least, was a witness to how drunk his dad was and John Duncan still had his knife on him. Would that be enough to prove Jack was coerced?
Jack reached into his pocket for his keys as he got to the driver’s side. Something smooth met his fingertips. Then Jack recalled the slight tug he’d felt when Rodger had passed him. A glance up through his open window showed his father was nearly halfway done with the bottle of booze.
Looking down, Jack pulled the object from his pocket. The cylindrical orange bottle with an orange cap had the label peeled off of it. In dark marker, a man’s handwriting scribbledsleeping pillsacross the plastic.
The bottle was empty.
Jack knockedon the storm door, the action reminding him of when he’d been trying to get money from Mr. Barlow for mowing the man’s grass. Only this time, he wasn’t half-starved and desperate. A glance behind him showed that his dad was still where he’d left him.
Chief Cunningham’s wife opened the door, leaving the storm door closed. “Jack? Are you okay?”
“I’m doing good, Mrs. Cunningham. Is the Chief home?” he inquired.
“One moment.” She closed the front door and left to get her husband.
A few minutes later, Chief Cunningham appeared. He was in jeansand a sweater and was still trying to buckle his badge to his belt as he shouldered the door open. “Jack. You okay, son?”
Jack threw a thumb over his shoulder at his father passed out against the passenger window. “How old do you have to be to make a citizen’s arrest? Because I’d like to make one.”
An ambulance hadto be called for John Duncan. Chief Cunningham had been unable to wake the man and his breathing was so shallow that they feared alcohol poisoning.
Mr. Zarin came running down the street as soon as Mrs. Cunningham called him. Thankfully, Mrs. Zarin was still at the house with Lilly. Jack did not want Lilly to ever see John Duncan again. Mr. Zarin stood with Jack as they watched his father get loaded into the back of the ambulance on a stretcher. He had an oxygen mask over his face. The knife he’d used to threaten Jack with was now safely in Chief Cunningham’s custody. Jack had gotten it from his father’s pocket as soon as the man had passed out in his truck.
They’d barely been a block away from the bar.
Jack supposed he could have pulled over and called for the police then, but he didn’t want to get Rodger into trouble. Whatever sleeping pills the man had doused the whiskey with had been strong enough to knock out a man John Duncan’s size in minutes. The only stop Jack made was to dump the empty prescription bottle into a dumpster before heading to the Chief’s house and to pour out the rest of the tainted whiskey on the ground.
Best eight bucks Jack ever spent in his opinion.
He was still riding the high of his victory over his father. As far as Mr. Zarin and the police were concerned, Jack just drove around until his father passed out drunk. He did tell them about his father’s plans to have him drive to the Scanlon house, as well as his threatening words against Lilly.
