It'll always come around. [entries|archive|friends|userinfo] Jackson [ website | Birthright ] [ userinfo | greatestjournal userinfo ] [ archive | journal archive ]

[Oct. 28th, 2004|11:59 pm] Kris had decided Eddy needed to get out of the house more. He was turning into the dog equivalent of a couch potato. She smirked as she thought to "The Fifth Element" and Bruce Willis' comment to his cat. It was how she felt about Eddy at the moment. She was dressed in a pair of baggy black pants which hugged her hips and a blue tanktop. Dark shades covered her eyes and her boots crunched at the sand beneath her feet. In her hand, she held a frisbeee. A frisbee she threw only to have returned to her by Eddy himself. It was a pretty nice, quiet day in the town of Searchlight. Jackson surveyed the streets, hands in the pockets of his jeans, taking note that everything looked about the same as it had two months ago. A block away, he could see a familiar four legged friend chasing a frisbee. He whistled, trying to get the pup's attention. Eddy's ears perked up at the sound of the whistle and he bounded away from Kris. Kris arched an eyebrow before she retrieved the discarded frisbee." What in the hell?" She muttered to herself before she picked her pace up to a jog so she could keep up with the dog. He crouched down to greet the dog, feverishly scratching behind his ears. "Hey, buddy!" A glance up revealed Kris bee-lining toward them and Jackson frantically hoped that he'd put on the t-shirt without grease stain on the front. Kris' eyes could not believe what she was seeing. Jackson?. She came to an abrupt stop and a few strands of her dark hair fell over his shades before she shoved her shades back onto the top of her head. A slow, easy grin broke across her face." Well, well, if it isn't my rescuer." She watched as Eddy barked excitedly and nudged Jackson." It's good to see you." She said with a softer smile. Jackson had been one of the first people she had met and he had been the first to really help her out. Jackson returned the grin, "I was sincerely hopin' I might run into you." His eyes casually dropped down to make sure he was wearing the stainless shirt, which, to his relief, he was. "How've you been?" "Up, down, all around. That kinda thing." Kris said with another smile before she rubbed at her hair." And you? I never thought I'd be seeing you again." "Well, I didn't count on bein' back, to be honest." He gave a shrug, "But then, things don't always play out the way you'd expect." Kris nodded her head." Very true." She walked over to him and tipped her head to one side." You look good. How are your boys?" She rubbed her hand over Eddy's head and smirked." By the way, the mutt has a name now." Jackson nodded, graciously. "You look good yourself. And the boys are fine. Save for the pet funeral we had last month. Apparently, lizards and vacuum cleaners are not worthy opponents." He patted Eddy's head, addressing the dog, "A name, huh? You might be a respectable mutt, yet." He looked back up at Kris, "What's the name?" She gave a sympathetic wince at the story about the lizard and vacuum cleaner." The name's Eddy." She shrugged her shoulders and slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans." I figured giving him a name that meant protector was a good idea seeing as he spent most of his nights trying to keep me in bed." Kris scuffed at the ground with her boot." Still sleepwalking." He gave a small smile. "Earnin' his keep, too. He must like you more." Jackson crossed his arms over his chest. "Still no idea why?" Kris bit down on her bottom lip." I have a fairly good idea but it's kinda out of this world." She linked her hands together and rested them behind her neck. After a moment or two of looking at the sky. She returned her attention to Jackson." It's really good to see you." She reaffirmed. "Well, I hope you get it sorted out, otherworldy or not." He smiled at her, "Believe you me, I'm glad you're still around here." He shifted on his feet, "Anything else newsworthy happen while I's away?" "Hm, you missed a lot my friend." Kris said with a chuckle and warm smile." The locals are just as friendly as ever. We had a blood rain a few weeks ago and then there was that eternal darkness and ...the night of the living dead remake right here in Searchlight." She rubbed at her hair." It was all kinds of fucked up." "Uh... blood rain? Eternal darkness?" Jackson's face shadowed with confusion. "And when you say 'Night of the Livin' Dead' remake, you mean they came in with a motion picture crew and actors and everythin', right?" Kris shook her head." I really wish they did." She muttered before she cleared her throat." There's a lot more to this town than meets the eye." She shrugged her shoulders and rubbed her hands back over her face." What brings you back?" "Questions that need answers." Jackson's eyes clouded briefly, as he considered why he was there. "I have a feelin' there's a lot to learn 'round these part." He brightened a bit, "As long as I can avoid these so-called zombie attacks." "Oh they're over. You came back at a good time." Kris said with a slight grin before she nodded her head." There's always questions and the more answers you get, the more questions you have." She frowned, why exactly was she getting deep and thoughtful? She had been spending too much time with just Eddy again. He nodded, "That's the truth, ain't it?" His train of though changed tracks. "Say, this time around, I'm plannin' on bein' a more permanent resident. You wouldn't happen to know where a fella could find a place to live, would you?" "Hm.." Kris fell thoughtful for a moment." You can always crash at mine until you can find a place. Big house. Nice company and hey, you get to spend time with Eddy so it's a win, win situation." She slid her arms across her chest." But failing that, there's a motel room whilst you get situated. There's some property across from the diner. A friend of mine rented a place, says it's pretty nice." "I appreciate the generosity, but I've got myself the motel room for at least the next three or so nights." Jackson considered his options. "As for the long term, guess we'll see what happens. And when I do get a place, I expect you both to drop by for dinner. Being home reminded me how much I like cookin'." He smiled. "Hey, I like food. Especially homecooked food." Kris said with another smile. Her brown eyes glittering as she looked at Jackson. "Well then, ma'am, I do believe you've made the right friend." Jackson consulted his watch. "I should let you two get back to your quality time." Kris eyed Eddy and then eyed the frisbee before she simply offered the frisbee to Jackson." You take him for a while. He's been missing you." She gave Jackson a soft smile." You can bring him by later sometime and I know I can trust you to feed him." She then gave him directions to where it was she was living just so he knew where to drop Eddy off. Jackson flashed her a smile of genuine gratitude. "Thank you. We'll behave. Best we can, anyway." he nudged Eddy with he knee, "Right, boy?" "Good, good." Kris commented with a wink and a grin before she backed up a few paces." You two have fun now and no terroising the locals." She paused as she considered what she had just said. She pulled a slight face and smirked." What am I saying? Terroise them all you want!" With that, she turned on her heel and headed for home. "She's one of the good ones, isn't she, Dog? Er... Eddy." He headed off in the opposite direction, sending Eddy chasing after the frisbee. link post comment

[Oct. 26th, 2004|02:29 pm] I was downright convinced it would work. I thought seein' my boys would erase it from my mind. As inspirational as their little faces may be, it's not enough. Everything was fine for the first week. We laughed together, read stories, watched Lord knows how many Pokemon movies, and it was picture perfect. Until her birthday. Dwight wanted to know why she wouldn't want to come home so he could give her the card he'd made. I tried to explain, best I could, as I had before, that she wasn't comin' home. He full of why's and why not's and more why's, which I tried my best to answer. But I didn't really know. 'Round late September, Dwight finally understood, at least a little, when Mr. Lizard Pet met his untimely demise in an encounter with a Hoover upright. His questions met their answers, the best someone just over half a decade old can understand. But I didn't, more than ever. When I'd first set out across the country, I wanted revenge. It was anger fuelin' me. And I don't deny that there's still a quiet rage beneath the surface, but more than anything… I need to know. At least this time, I have a place to start. link

[Jul. 28th, 2004|05:15 am] "Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!" squealed the voice on the other end of the phone. Jackson chuckled. "Hey there, chief!" The little voice was serious. "Don't be siwy, Daddy. My name is Bentey. Bentey David Donney...wey." Another laugh. "It sure is. You bein' good for grandma?" "Yes." "Lookin' after your big brother?" "Yes." "Is he around?" "Yes." "Can you... put him on the phone?" "Yes." Jackson waited, but he could still hear the little guy breathing on the other end. "Can you put him on the phone now?" "Yes." There was a shuffling sound then, "DWIGHT! DADDY WANTS YOU!" He held the phone away from his ear for a second, wincing. "Daddy?" came a second voice through the receiver. "Hey, buddy, how're you holdin' up?" "Good." "How's day camp?" "Good." "How's Mr. Lizard Pet?" Okay, so his kids weren't the most original with names. "Good. ...Daddy?" "Yeah, Dwight?" "Are you coming home soon?" "Yeah, son. Soon." "Promise?" "Yeah." There was a voice calling to the boy somewhere on the other end of the line. "Gramma's calling for breakfast. I love you, Daddy!" "Love you, too. Give your brother a hug for me." "Okay. BYE!" And that was it. But it wasn't enough for Jackson. He hadn't seen his boys in over six months. A trip home was long overdue. link post comment

[Jul. 25th, 2004|10:32 am] Dog was tryin’ to make up his mind between the mailbox post and the fire hydrant. I was trying to figure out why I was wasting my time, standing on a sidewalk in Nowheresville, Nevada, waiting for this hound to mark his respective territory. What was I doin’ here? Why wasn’t I midway through the country on my way back to the remaining members of my family? ( Hey Good Lookin' ) link 1 comment|post comment

[Jul. 23rd, 2004|08:28 am] “I’m just givin’ you a ride, y’know. Just takin’ you a ways up the road. That’s it.” I cast a glance at my passenger. He didn’t seem to have much input. ‘Course, being of the canine persuasion, I’m fairly sure he didn’t have much to say. Or if he did he was keepin’ it to himself. It was kinda nice, havin’ someone else in the car with me, regardless of the leg count and the inability to carry a conversation. I’d known guys back home who were worse company. The fella hadn’t left my side since I slipped him a stick of hickory smoked jerky on my way to the motel office to resolve my room tab. My first instinct was to leave him be, but he wouldn’t have it. ‘Sides, he looked like he could use a friend. For a while, anyway. Which is how I ended up on the southbound Interstate 15 in my ’69 Mustang Mach 1 with a matted mutt by my side. link post comment

Mornin' After [Jul. 22nd, 2004|08:46 pm] The sunlight streaming through the rift in the thick motel curtains was only part of the reason he was temporarily blinded. The searing pain pounding its way through is skull was also responsible for the lapse in ocular perception. Unfortunately, it was doing the exact opposite for his hearing. Car doors slamming shut in the parking lot, kids splashing and squealing in the pool, the relentless whine of the vacuum in the room next door. It was all magnified. He tumbled out of bed, groping for the scattered change on the nightstand. Quarters and nickels in hand, he eased the door open, wincing as the midday sun hit his face. “Son of a…” He stopped himself before he hit the expletive, nodding politely at the housekeeper who was digging through her cart in the doorway next to his. “Mornin’.” She simply smiled at him, grabbed a bottle of Windex, and vanished back into the room. Shaking off his hung over haze, he shuffled toward the vending machines, plunking in the correct amount of silver to earn himself some painkillers, then did the same for an ice cold can of cola. For him, there was no better cure. Hair of the dog? Pure superstition. Advil and Coke? Surefire remedy. He’d washed the pills down with no less than half the contents of the can before he turned to head back to his room, the fermented corn-induced clouds dissolving into the heat of the day. The thought of whether he had remembered to put pants on before leaving his room crossed his mind. A quick glance down put him at ease, reminding him that he’d fallen asleep in his clothes. And that was when Jackson met Dog. link post comment

[Jul. 22nd, 2004|12:18 am] Twist. *Snap* Nothin’ beats that first whiff of Jim Beam, right outta the bottle. ‘Cept one thing. The first sip. Now, normally I’d be civilized and pour it in a class, or even one of those Dixie cups, but there aren’t any handy, and bein’ alone, I figure I’m safe from offendin’ anyone by puttin’ my mouth on the bottle. That familiar burn, the way it tingles… you either love it or hate it. There is no in between. I realize that drinkin’ alone is not a good thing. Even my father, a fellow whiskey connoisseur, never drank by himself. As far as I know, anyway. But he’s not here. And I’m might bit upset. Scratch that. Not a might bit. I’m downright furious. I’ve spent the last six months tracking this sonuvabitch (‘scuse the language) and suddenly he’s just up and disappeared on me. Where’s the Good Lord’s justice in that? As a man who’s spent a considerable amount of Sundays in a pew listenin' to a reverend spell out the divine will and perfect plan of God, I fail to understand why He, in all of His glorious scheming, would allow such events to occur. Now, I am not a blasphemous person. I realize that there are trials and tribulations in life, that’s what the Book of Job alone is all about. But this? This vile creature that took one of the most precious, lovin’, kindest people on this earth… how is he part of anything to do with the magnificent Maker of all things? Which is why I have no problem with this anger burnin’ inside. It’s a righteous anger. A virtuous hate, if you will. ‘Cept that it’s now smolderin’ with no sign of relief. At precisely ten twenty-nine this evenin’, I lost him. After numerous weeks of keepin’ him in my sights, through crowds, traffic jams and rough weather, he’s gone. Vengeance is certainly the Lord’s, but I want release. And even halfway through this fifth of Kentucky sour mash, I have no idea how I’m gonna get it. link post comment

[Jul. 21st, 2004|12:41 am] *THUNK* The knife bounced off the tree trunk. A low chuckle. “Son, you’re tryin’ too hard.” His father picked up the bowie knife and handed it back to him. “Try again, but this time, don’t chuck it, just lob it. Just take your time.” That had been Daniel Donnelly’s trademark advice. “Havin’ trouble with that algebra, son? Just take your time, it’ll come to you.” “Don’t rush that carburetor, Jack. Take your time and do it right.” “You’re putting too much pressure on that Cartwright girl, boy. She’ll come around, if you just take your time.” He learned that much appreciated virtue they called patience. And it served him well. It had taken him three years to rebuild the Mustang, two to get Sarah Cartwright to go on a date with him and another two and a half to convince her that he was, in fact, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. By the time he was twenty-three, he had his own family, ready and waiting to be instilled with the wisdom of the senior Donnelly. Not to mention a car that was the envy of every auto enthusiast the three counties. But that was a lifetime ago. The calendar dictated that it had only been four years, but it felt like four hundred. She was gone. His young sons were hundreds of miles away. And he was here, in a city that thrived on humankind’s innate impatience. That was his advantage. Time meant nothing, anymore. She was what he’d lived for and they’d taken her away. So, he would wait… for that single moment when Fate would nod in his direction and reward Jackson Donnelly for his diligence. *THUD* The blade sunk at least a half an inch into the tree. ”That’s it, son.” The words were laced with pride. “What’d I tell you? Take your time. It’ll always come around.” link post comment

[Jul. 20th, 2004|09:08 pm] Name: Jackson Donnelly DOB: October 13, 1980 Age: 27 Height: 6' Weight: 180 Hometown: Pembroke, Georgia Likes: Country music, his 1969 Mustang Mach 1, good homestyle cookin', whiskey, darts Dislikes: Rude people, bananas, video games, cigar smoke, impatience Skills: Trained mechanic, throwing knives Fifth generation Southern gentleman. Born and raised in Georgia. Married his high school sweetheart at 19, she was recently killed during a series of mysterious serial murders. Her killer was never caught, but he took it upon himself to track them down, leaving his two sons (Dwight: age 6 and Bentley: age 4) with their maternal grandmother. The trail led him through several states into Nevada's Sin City, where he waits for his opponent to make their next move. "All human power is a compound of time and patience." Honore de Balzac (1799 - 1850) link post comment

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