Short Story: 'jack'

Short Story: 'jack'

‘Jack’ by Sheila O’Hara

Jack is laughing. But then Jack never did understand what was going on around him. When we were all going into the woods, we met Jack coming out. When everyone played football Jack carried his baseball bat, looking for a game. Jack was slow, and stubborn. Jack was my brother.

Billy stopped kicking the boy on the ground, and turned around.

“So, Jack” said Billy, “what’s funny?”

“Me to know” said Jack, doing that heel-toe killer video jive he used all his waking hours.

“Stand still” said Billy, “I’m talking to you.”

But Jack wasn’t listening, he just bucked and weaved, bobbed and jiggled, then started crooning is some kind of off-tune song only he knew.

I stepped up to Billy, “Leave it.”

Billy’s pals starting laughing and mimicking “Leave it Billy,”

Billy ignored them ,“Why does he keep grinning all the time? He’s laughing at me.”

“Christ Billy, can’t you see the kid’s nuts?” said one of his pals.

Billy swiped his hand across the speaker’s face, “Don’t you fucking start, one dribbling idiot’s enough.”

I stood in front of Jack, trying to get him to back off, but he just kept laughing and dancing.

Jack picked up the tempo on his jive and started swinging the bat around his head. Billy took out his knife.

“Steel cuts wood,” cackled Jack, giggling and shuffling.

Billy’s gang backed off to watch the fun. I didn’t move. This had nothing to do with Jack, and everything to do with Billy and me. Billy looked at Jack and laughed and that’s when Jack swung the bat. Billy’s head turned to jam.

We got out of there.

“Playing baseball?” Mum asked when we got home, “didn’t know you played baseball, Jack.”

She went back to her magazine and Jack and I went upstairs.

I was sitting in my room when Jack came in, carrying the bat and Billy’s knife.

“Steel cuts wood,” he said, and started carving his initials.

End (325 Words)