Chapter 2: Under My Thumb

"Jack where are you going? It's late."

As Helen stepped off the last step of the stairs she saw her husband emerging from their bedroom dressed in clothes he wore when he worked in the garage. His eyes were glazed over. He did not look normal; it was almost as if he was sick.

"Jack?"

"I'm going to the garage, Helen. Don't wait up for me. I may be there awhile."

Helen watched her husband saunter down the stairs. She then turned to head to their bedroom. Thinking against it she wheeled around, following her husband's trail to the garage. When she stepped outside she heard the radio blaring out a song. It didn't sound like a song Jack would normally listen to. In fact it was more of Meg's style of music. If she were here, Meg would proudly announce in response to her mother's request of what song it was that it was "Under My Thumb" by The Rolling Stones. Helen stopped outside the garage door studying her husband who sat on a stool, beer in hand, staring off into space. The lyrics of the song floated over to her.

"...It's down to me, yes it is/ The way she does just what she's told/ Down to me, the change has come/ She's under my thumb..."

"Jack, I think we should talk about Meg."

"Helen, I told you I don't want to discuss this now."

"Jack, I think we sh--"

"Helen!" Jack sprung from the stool knocking it over. He turned to face his wife head on. A stern look of anger from Jack seered through Helen making her shift her weight from one foot to the other uneasily. Jack breathing heavily took a gulp of beer and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Gathering her composure Helen stared back at her husband with a newfound strength as the radio bellowed.

"...It's down to me, oh that's what I said/ The way she talks when she's spoken to/ Down to me, the change has come/ She's under my thumb..."

"You know why she left don't you?" When she recieved no reply from her husband, Helen went on. "She left because of you."

"Me?" Jack sputtered.

"You're too hard on her, Jack. You pressure her to fit into your idea of her and who she should be. She's her own person, Jack. She's not your idea. You can't smother her, Jack."

Jack silently stared back at his wife. He knew Meg was far from who he thought she should be. But he did expect her to obey him. He was the father and she the daughter after all.

"I think we should go after her Jack."

"I'm not doing that Helen. I wouldn't want to smother her now would I?" Jack, his words dripping in sarcasm, walked closer to his wife. "She's not coming back Helen. I'm done talking about it. She thinks she's old enough to be on her own, let her do what she's gonna do."

"Jack she's our daughter! She's my daughter and I'm not just gonna stand back and let her ruin her life like this!"

"Well she may be your daughter Helen, but she's no longer mine."

"Jack, how could you say that?"

"She's made her choice."

Headlights shown on the two of them causing them to mometarily stop their argument. J.J. stepped out of his car and slammed the door. Noticing his parents, he jogged over to them. He felt the tension built up between them oozing from the garage.

"What's going on?" When their silence remained he added, "What are we gonna do about Meg?"

"I'm not going to do anything -- and neither are you two."

"If it's a matter of finding out where they run off to, I bet she told Roxanne everything. We could just call Roxanne and with some persuasion--"

"There's no need of that J.J. I know where she's going," Helen rattled off without realizing what she was saying.

Jack and J.J. stared at her in amazement.

"Helen you knew about this?" demanded Jack.

Helen shifted her gaze from Jack to around the room and back again. J.J. just stood and studied his mother. Finally, he spoke up.

"You didn't know about Meg, but you knew about Chris leaving didn't you?" J.J., with nostrils flaring, went on his voice rising with every word, "You helped him like you've been helping those other deserters. Through that group you're involved in, the one that's against the war!" J.J., now shouting, advanced upon a dumbfounded Helen.

"Helen, what's he talking about?" With no answer from Helen, Jack looked to his son, "J.J.?"

"Mom's been a part of some group, Catholics for Peace or something. She's already helped some coward escape to Canada."

Helen sucked in a breath seeing the fire that consumed Jack's eyes.

"Jack--"

"You were trying to blame this on me?"

"I can explain--"

"It's my fault!"

"If you'll just listen--"

"I'm too hard on her--"

"--you'll understand why I--"

"--looks like you encouraged her--"

"--did what I--"

"--behind my back, you--"

"--why I helped--"

"--were helping her with all the stunts she's pulled all along!"

"No, Jack, I--"

"Helen! HELEN!" Jack was now steaming. "J.J. go inside."

Not wanting to be caught in the middle of what was about to happen, J.J. left the garage. Jack leaned on his workbench jaw set and head shaking.

"Jack," Helen spoke timidly.

A silent stare from her husband told her immediately not to speak further. Tears began to well up in Jack's eyes again, and he turned his head up to the ceiling blinking heavily.

"Leave me alone Helen," Jack said after wiping his sleeve across his forehead.

"Ja--"

"Helen!" Jack bit his lower lip and leaned onto his workbench with hands in balled up fists. "I can't talk right now...please...leave."

Hearing a desperate plea she hadn't heard in Jack's voice before, Helen nodded and quietly left the garage. She turned to look back when she reached the door. Her face showed the frustration, concern, and worry she felt. Her daughter had left home, highly likely to never return. Now her husband had disappeared too. She'd never seen him this upset, not even when J.J. had been MIA, probably dead. She wanted to help, but knew he would never discuss his true, deep fears and feelings with her. Now with what J.J. had told him, things would really be difficult between each of them. He always had to be the strong one, always in control. She dropped her head in defeat and walked on inside the house.

Jack bent over to rescue the neglected stool he had knocked over earlier. Where did everything go so wrong? he thought resuming his seat on the again standing stool. First, Meg scheming behind my back and now I find out Helen too.

Taking his forgotten beer bottle into his hand, he heard Helen's voice saying, "You know why she left don't you?...You're too hard on her, Jack. ...You can't smother her, Jack."

He leaned back to discover the bottle was bone dry. Angrily he chunked it across the room. The shattering glass sprayed the garage floor. Simultaneously busted was the heaviness Jack had been feeling in his chest all night from fighting back tears. He felt no control of them now as he wept loudly in his solitude. The fact was he didn't need to hear Helen tell him anything. He had already been blaming himself for his daughter's recent act. Maybe he had pushed her too far this time. They had always butted heads as long as he could remember. But in reality, she was probably the most like him out of all his children. Sure he and J.J. held many of the same interests, but Meg had his stubborn, go-get-'em personality.

He knew he couldn't have stopped her. He had held her under too long. He'd let go, lifted what hold he'd had left on her, and she ran. She was gone. He couldn't help feeling he was mainly at fault.

"And now, here's a song we haven't heard in a while," announced the radio DJ. "This is 'Runaway' by Del Shannon!"

At the word 'runaway,' Jack felt a sharp pain jab him down his neck. His daughter was a runaway, a runaway who would never return on account of himself. Maybe he had handled the situation wrong. Maybe he should go after her. Maybe he should have stopped her, kept her in his sight, made her stay. The maybe's piled up in his mind as the radio sang on.

"...I'm walking in the rain/ Tears are falling and I feel the pain/ Wishing you were here by me/ To end this misery and I wonder/ I won-won-won-won-wonder/ Why why why why why why she ran away/ And I wonder where she will stay/ My little runaway run-run-run-run-runaway..."


The rain beat harder on the huge glass windows as Meg listened to the sad, creepy sounding organ music from the jukebox.

"I guess it's a good thing we stopped when we did or we'd be out there in the rain," Chris said handing Meg a steaming cup. He slid into the booth next to her, wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, and placed a kiss on the side of her head.

"Yeah," she replied softly cupping the warm mug in her hands. She turned once again to stare out of the massive glass covered with streams of water vigorously running down it. The jukebox's organ solo ended and Del Shannon began singing again.

"...I'm walking in the rain..."