"We All Need Time"
Keesha
6-30-2007
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Jericho" are the creations of others and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
It had been a good ending to a potentially bad situation. The town of Jericho proved it could still pull together in the spirit of what was best for all. The corn got picked and stored away in an atmosphere that, if not jovial, was at least good-natured.
Jake Green was exceedingly glad they were nearing the end of the harvest. His last couple of days had been hell and he was physically and mentally exhausted. He knew picking this corn was important to his Mom so he tried to stay in the spirit of things. But as the day dragged on, he found it harder and harder to keep up the pretence.
Things finally came to a head late in the afternoon as the harvest was winding down. He was lifting a storage container filled with ears of corn from the horse-drawn cart when a tidal wave of dizziness overtook him. He dropped the grey plastic tub on the ground and collapsed to his knees in the dirt.
A voice called out to him but for the moment, it was too much effort to distinguish what it was saying. Like an annoying gnat, it buzzed about his ears. Slowly, as the dizziness abated, he sat back on his haunches. He felt disoriented, probably from the heat. Well, that and the blow to the head he had received from Mitch less than 24 hours ago.
"Jake? Hey Jake? You OK?"
Wishing the voice would go away but knowing it wouldn't, he reluctantly focused on his surroundings, slowly raising his head. Stanley's concerned face floated into view.
"Help me up," Jake murmured. His best friend reached down and pulled him carefully to his feet. Jake battled to get his equilibrium and ended up having to lean heavily upon the flatbed to stay vertical. "Heat. Got too hot," he muttered. "I'll be fine. In a minute. Don't make a scene."
Emily, who had been standing a few feet away, started to move forward, but then stopped and kept her distance. Her gut told her that her presence would not be appreciated at the moment.
"You don't look so good Jake," Stanley said, stating the obvious.
"I'm OK." To prove his point Jake let go of the wagon and straightened up. "See. Nothing. I just need to..." Jake faltered mid-sentence as his stomach lurched. Swallowing hard to force the queasiness aside, he continued, "Take a short break. Get a drink."
Emily narrowed her eyes. Even from this distance, she could tell Jake was lying. However, she didn't know why and frankly, there was not a lot she could do about it. If she had learned anything from dating Jake, it was that he was stubborn. She decided to maintain her distance, for now.
"Stanley, is that old hand pump still working 'round the side of the barn?"
"Yeah."
Jake nodded and after a small stumble started forward. "I'm gonna douse my head in water."
"You want me to…"
Jake waved him off. "Finish what you were doing. I'm fine. Really."
Stanley shrugged and headed back into the barn to supervise the corn storage.
Jake walked slowly around the side of the barn. As soon as he was out of eye sight of everyone, he sagged against the faded red-painted wood. His stomach flip-flopped again and this time he was violently ill. After a couple of good heaves, he came up empty. He had to rest a moment before starting out again. By the time he reached the pump, he was desperate to wash the foul taste from his mouth.
Pumping the handle with as much energy as he could muster, he finally got the water to sluggishly flow. Rinsing off his hands, he cupped some water and rinsed out his mouth. He did not swallow much, remembering how his Mom use to admonish him not to drink anything after being sick.
Mom. He didn't want to go there but the words she had said to him earlier haunted him. 'Stop it, Jake. You're not that guy anymore.' Jake rubbed his hand across his forehead in frustration. Damn. She had such faith in him. More faith than he had in himself. Certainly more faith than his father had in him.
Jake slowly shuffled off to sit down under a nearby tree.
His father. Johnston Green. Ex-Ranger. Mayor of Jericho. The man who had made it perfectly clear what he thought about his son when Jake had decided to take the law into his own hands and go after Mitch. Jake had been humiliated and totally frustrated when his father had taken the gun away from him, like he was an errant child. And of course, it had to be in front of his brother and mother too. Why couldn't his father trust that Jake would have used good judgment? He laughed bitterly when he remembered the words he had uttered to his father. 'I'm not that guy anymore.' The very same words his mother had thrown back in his face a few hours later.
And he wasn't that guy… was he?
He thought back to the scene at the barn with Eric and Mitch. If the truth were told, he really had wanted to keep slugging Mitch. If Eric hadn't pulled him off, would he have stopped on his own? Jake let out a small groan. He didn't know. He leaned back against the tree as exhaustion overtook him and fell asleep.
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