Just Call Me Jake

Chapter 1

Jake sighed. He had hoped to finish his hospital visits early, but when he had tried to leave, Mrs. Smith had seemed so dismayed that his plan to review the budget was forgotten; he had stayed to talk a little longer. By the time he looked at his watch, another hour had passed. It was intriguing how some of his more wrinkled parishioners had such clear memories of their youth – and flashes of insight about life.

Though he knew the sharp recollections were a phenomenon of advanced age and seemed to be balanced by loss of short term memory, it still caught him off guard when Mrs. Smith had motioned him close and whispered: Be careful leaving, there are commies out there. They might get you. They caught me – and changed my hair to gray.

He wanted to laugh but didn’t know if she was serious or kidding. So like he usually did when in doubt, he smiled and thanked her. He knew she loved to give advice, and though this statement was odd, some of her advice hit home, like what she had said when he first arrived at the hospital. She had opened up her arms for a hug, then looked him over from head to toe. Mrs. Smith smiled, then shaken her gnarled finger at him, saying in her gravelly voice:

Pastor Jake, I am so happy to see you, but I worry about you. You look like man who needs a wife. Look at those bags under your eyes -- slow down and be happy while you’re still young enough. Then she wrinkled her little nose and added: …And get a new suit.

She was such a nice old lady, so he didn’t take offense. In fact, he admitted that she had a point there. He was nearing the end of his twenty-ninth year, had found a thin patch in what used to be his mop of curly brown hair and couldn’t even remember how old his suit was. He didn’t think clothes were important but as she had admonished, you had to be presentable.

He recalled seeing an ad in the paper for a big sale on men’s suits at a store in the mall. Jake wasn’t fond of shopping, but it was cold and wet, which made the prospect of walking inside the mall seem more pleasant.

Even thought it was just drizzling now, the earlier downpour had left puddles of water along the road. They had built some new stores and apartments in this area and apparently, drainage wasn’t a major consideration when they put in new developments. Perhaps that might change with the emphasis on green building he had been reading about in the newspaper.

He accelerated and dove into the right lane, going around a van signaling for a left turn. Jake’s car hit a deep puddle, making a huge splash that splattered a young woman walking on the sidewalk.

In the rear view mirror, he caught a glimpse of her raised fist. It took him two blocks before his deed fully penetrated his consciousness. He flicked on his right blinker and turned into the next side street. He thought he could go around the block, but the curving streets made him go further than he intended. After a series of turns, found his way back to the main road searched the sidewalk for the spot where he last saw her walking. He rolled along slowly, and finally saw a girl with a guitar case. No longer defiant or angry, she was plodding along, her shoulders hunched.

Jake pulled up beside her and rolled down the window. She walked faster and headed to the far edge of the sidewalk. He let the car roll to keep up with her.

Pardon, me miss, I came back to say I’m terribly sorry.

She stared at him, warily. He hoped he hadn’t scared her.

I’m sorry, repeated Jake for splashing you back there. Is there anything I can do to help? He asked hopefully. He always felt his approval rating from the Lord was much higher if he could set things straight with his fellow creatures.

The young woman stopped and faced the car, indignant. You’re sorry! She yelled. Now, my feet are soaking, my dress has spots, she continued louder and faster, I’ve got over a mile more to walk, this guitar is getting heavier with the extra moisture, and now dirt, my boy friend smashed up my car, I’m too broke for a cab and . . . she paused to take a breath.

Have a lot on your shoulders? Jake asked quietly.

She stopped and surveyed him as if he were an alien.

Would it help if I offered you a lift? When she hesitated, it occurred to him that she should be suspicious about getting into a car with a stranger, but before he could explain who he was, she opened the Jetta’s back door, put in her guitar and hopped in the seat next to him.

A mixture of spicy perfume and dampness seemed to fill the car. Where are you headed?

Well, if you ask my parents, straight to hell. And lately, I’m starting to believe them. She smoothed her long brown skirt. But, in real terms, I am headed to St. Mary’s Church on Lincoln Street. I’m playing for a wedding in about an hour.

Jake noted the bluish tinge on her lips and fingers. You look cold.

What makes you think that? She said as she shivered.

I look for clues.

Like my teeth chattering?

Well, I wasn’t going to mention that, but I’d feel better if you warmed up -- I’ve sat in the church you’re going to and it’s drafty. Would you like to stop for a cup a coffee or maybe some tea?

She hesitated for a moment, and then brightened. How about some soup? There’s an Amanda’s Donuts on Hillsboro Street -- it’s not far from here and they have great soup.

Soup it is.

Jake followed her directions and a moments later, followed her into the donut shop. The smell of fresh coffee and baked goods was tantalizing. Walking in back of her, he noticed how tall the girl was -- about five ten, same as his own height. Wet spots on her maroon raincoat showed where the car had splashed her. He must hit a deep puddle.

While she headed to the restroom, Jake selected two stools at the counter and longingly eyed the chocolate covered long johns - he knew he should just have coffee, as he had put on several unneeded pounds lately, but the pastries were tempting, especially the ones with angel cream filling.

The girl soon returned, sliding onto the stool next to him and ordering a bowl of soup, water and a donut. He ordered coffee and after a short internal debate, his longed-for cream-filled long john. It broke his diet, but he didn’t want her to feel awkward eating alone.

Thanks for stopping. The soup here is great – like the donuts, she began.

I’ll have to try it next time. He nodded. The waitress served coffee and donut, then returned with the steaming bowl of soup. It was home-style chicken noodle and he watched the girl wrap her cold hands around the bowl, close her eyes and inhale the steam. Looking at her made him glad they’d stopped here.

She caught him observing. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until we walked in here.

You look like you’ll enjoy that. He honestly hoped she would. There was something very appealing about her.

She lifted up a spoonful over the bowl to have it cool. After swallowing it, she watched him take a bite of donut. You’re kind of the opposite of most people.

How’s that? He replied, wondering if she meant about not sticking to his diet. He hoped she was enjoying her soup as much as he was the donut.

About noticing things, like my being cold. It was very nice of you. I was wet and cold, but my having a bad day is really not your doing. My life is going downhill and today I hit a new low. She had a forced flippant tone to her voice, but he couldn’t see her eyes as she arranged her coat on the back of the chair. Underneath she had on a flowing blouse with an abstract pattern of browns, black and white, topped off by a black velveteen vest. Her outfit reminded him of a gypsy.

The waitress topped off his coffee. Could I have some coffee, too, please? she asked the waitress, before turning back to Jake. I didn’t catch your name earlier.

Jake Hardy he stretched out his hand automatically.

She hesitated for a moment. Myra -- that’s my nickname. Actually my real name is Marian, Marian Panket she said and shook his hand. You must be a salesman.

He laughed. Sometimes I feel like it.

What do you do? Are you a professor?

No, I’m in a type of life assurance. What do you do when you’re not singing at weddings? Are you a college student?

I used to be, but I dropped out to sing in a band. I thought we were going to be stars and record a CD and stuff. She held up another spoonful of soup. But none of that has materialized. I sing, play keyboard when the keyboard player isn’t there and I write music -- or try to. She ate the spoonful and dipped for more. At least, I did until today. Tomorrow, I don’t know. She shrugged her shoulders.

He noticed a tone of defiant desperation behind her words.

What happened?

She picked up her donut and inspected it as she took a bite. I’m not used to spilling out my life to strange men in donut shops, but you seem nice … if you really want to know, I’ll tell you the whole thing.

I’d like to listen. He said, leaning back on his stool. The Lord works in mysterious ways and there must have been a reason for that huge puddle I went through.

Oh, man, don’t tell me you’re religious! Good thing you didn’t hear what I was calling you after the puddle hit me.

Jake chucked. I’m sure I wouldn’t have liked it, but it probably was deserved.

She laughed for the first time. She had a great smile, now that the blue was gone and a more normal pink had returned to her lips. Jake smiled back, admiring her shoulder length hair. It was still damp but probably was golden blonde when dry. She also had beautiful eyes -- almond shaped and framed by long lashes. And her eyes were the deepest blue he’d ever seen. It was the same color as a vase his mother had loved – she called it cobalt blue.

She tilted her head. This is going to be a long story. Are you really paying for this? He nodded. Okay if I order another donut?

Jake smiled, happy to buy a donut for someone who relished it so much.

Chapter 2

I was doing fine before I met Magnus. She sighed. I think I could blame it all on Maggie, my best friend. We were out celebrating the end of midterms at a local bar. The lights in the little corner stage went on, and I had to catch my breath. The guitar player was tall, blonde and so handsome, with a voice that matched his appearance. I couldn’t stop looking at him -- he reminded me of one of those Norse gods from humanities -- Thor, I think.

I remember Maggie elbowing me and saying I was drooling. She laughed, then continued. At break time, Maggie left and came back with Magnus. He sat down with us and it was love at first sight. He had a great sense of humor as well as his other talents. One thing led to another, and soon I was going out with him and playing in his band.

The waitress refilled her coffee and Marian smiled her thanks and took a sip. I was so enthused by the band I decided not to return to school for fall semester.

You dropped out of school? Asked Jake, his brows furrowed. He thought it was so sad when someone gave up on their education.

I realize now it was a mistake. She answered, taking a small bite of the doughnut. But I was thinking college wasn’t as important as being in love and working on your big break. She took a bite of donut as this sank in.

"What I learned was that troubles trigger others like dominos. I hadn’t anticipated my parents’ reaction – they were angry and stopped helping me pay my rent and car insurance. My part time job as a cashier at the student union evaporated as well -- all available campus jobs were reserved for students.

"One thing about Magnus, he never worries. He prides himself on positive thinking and thought it was a great opportunity to have me move in so we could write more songs together. It helped a bit, but the band never seemed to clear enough money – when they played a gig, everyone seemed to get paid before I did. Even though I wrote some of their music, played keyboard and sang, Magnus claimed they had to pay specialists, like the drummer, first. ‘You’re portion is sort of rolled into mine,’ he’d say. And it worked fine when I didn’t have bills to pay.

She shook her head. "Then last week, I couldn’t