Narrator

                     

The Narrator

     Jack Porter stood up from the edge of his bed like he does every morning at 5:30 am. He's a creature of habit. But aren't we all? Hops in the shower. He makes his coffee strong and eggs scrambled. Looks at a picture of his family and thinks about that morning he had with them. He gets the Paper that is resting at the bottom of the front door, reads it long enough to pour a cup of coffee and have a few bites of egg, and then heads out to his shop.

     He and his wife started the shop a few years back. She was ready to get back to work and Jack was ready to get out of his shit job and start something he can call his own. The Plan: (a) Jack fixes cars (b) Katie does the paperwork and payroll (c) Little Sammy goes to college like they planned.

*

      It was a beautiful day, more or less, besides the blood on the road. Their day started out normal. Jack woke up at 5:15 am and rolled out of bed at 5:30 am. Gave his wife a kiss before he got in the shower. She got up and put on some strong coffee for Jack. They all ate scrambled eggs with buttered toast and milk for little Sammy. Sammy just turned 6 a few days before. She still wanted to wear her little birthday cone all the time. Katie somehow managed to make her take it off the past few days before heading to school, but she would put it right on first thing when she got home. They ate, they talked and they got in the car. Jack drove, Lovely Katie got in the passenger seat after putting Sammy in her booster seat behind her. Jack backs out of the drive way, slowly, so his front bumper doesn’t get ripped off in the process. That’s when a stolen truck plowed into the passenger side, instantly killing the two girls. Jack had a broken jaw and his orbital eye socket fractured. Cops were far behind the truck.

"Katie!" He yelled. "Sammy!"

   He didn't get a reply. Cops took the drunk 20 somethings out the truck and off to jail. Paramedics took Jack to St. Peter Hospital. The Coroner came to pick up the girls.

*

     Mr. Porter came home at 6:18 pm. Fast food bag in hand as he walks to his door. Sits down in his dark living room, turns on the lamp next to the couch and eats his meal. He looks blankly at the picture of his long gone family for an hour, then heads to his liquor cabinet and drinks himself to sleep.

*

     His eyes are rapid through his eye lids. He is dreaming about his wife when they met at a record store. Jack was there looking for old Doors venal. He heard a small voice from behind him asking if he seen any Doors records.

"Not yet. That's what I'm looking for, so if you find some first, you let me know." He said.

"Finders Keepers, stranger." She whispered as she walked away slowly.

     He ended up talking to Katie for a few hours in the store. They got a few Doors and Pink Floyd albums. He got her number, they went on a date, fell in love, moved in together, learned how to cook together, read tons of books together, made love often, laughed often, fought very little, got married, moved into a house and had a daughter named Sammy. But, where there is love and happiness, there is tragedy.

*

     Jack Porter stood up from the edge of his bed like he does every morning at 5:30 am. Went straight to the shower and took a cold one to wake up. Still half drunk, he put on coffee (extra strong), scrambled eggs and toast. He wasn't interested in the world this morning so he didn't bother with the paper. Jack sat at the table staring at the empty chairs, slowly eating his breakfast and sipping his Arnold strength coffee until it was time to go to work. Blinking away tears, he walked out the door.

*

     When Jack and Katie first moved into their house Jack was a busy man. Going out of town regularly, bi-weekly. Katie was bored and lonely most the time, so she would do yard work and go for long walks. She met a nice guy on her street and started talking to him when Jack was out of town. He kept her company and made her feel good. Jack was too busy, even when he was home he was off in his work. After a few months she started sleeping with Mr. Nice Guy. Only when Jack was out of town, was the rule. It lasted until Jack got a job on the higher floor and didn't have to go out of town anymore. Well, rarely.

*

     Its 7:12 pm. Jack came in his house with two paper bags of food in his arms. Put his food away and poured himself a drink. He finished up work for the week, so he decided to make a home cooked meal for himself. He made fried chicken legs, greens, mashed potatoes and mac n cheese. He ate at the table. Gazing at the empty chairs, chewing his food slowly.

     "Why didn't I look before I pulled out the drive way?" He asked the chairs.

     He waited for an answer before swallowing his mouthful of food..... It never came.

     Jack put the dishes away and leaves them in the sink. "I'll wash them tomorrow." He thinks, as he grabs a beer and pours a splash or two of gin in his fancy glass and sits in the living room.

     Jack sat in his living room drinking his beer and gin slowly (at first) until 3am. He went into his room and laid down. He fell into a deep sleep instantly.

*

     Its 5:30 am and Jack is hanging in there at the moment. What Jack doesn't know, and will never know, is that Little Sammy wasn't his daughter. When Katie was seeing Mr. Nice Guy they never used protection because she was on the pill. The funny thing about pills are, if you miss a day, there’s a great chance for them not to work. Katie never told Jack and Mr. Nice Guy never thought of anything until he seen that Little Sammy looked just like his mother. Katie and Mr. Nice Guy didn't see each other anymore after she had the baby, because Jack got that stay at the office gig. So they lived the perfect little lie..... Until Jack got them killed.

*

     Its 6:00 am and Jack is still swinging by his neck from the ceiling fan. I put crushed Ambien into his booze last night before he got home. I hid in Sammy’s room until Jack passed out. I knew he wouldn't go in there. From the look of the room, he hasn't been in Little Sammy's room since he got her killed. He didn't look before backing out onto the street. I always seen him every morning pulling out his drive way without looking. He killed my girls, now I killed him. Though the cops will think he just drank too much last night and decided to hang himself. I put pictures of the girls all over. On the table, living room and all over his bed. I’ll take the ones I like so I won't forget my babies' faces.

     Me? I'll go back to my life knowing I gave my girls the justice they deserved. But, who knows. This was fun. Maybe I'll narrate your life one day.

With Love,

The Narrator aka Mr. Nice Guy

THE END