Chapter 11

Reflections On Death

Day 45: Mid-afternoon

As Cody Jackson ran towards the Hotel Tango, faster and harder than he'd ever ran in his life, a torrent of painful memories threatened to crash over him like the waves of a typhoon. Half repressed memories of the most painful event of his 16 and a half years of life, the one thing he'd never talked about even with Mel and Eric. The tragic death of his father, John Jackson.

As a child and then a young man, Cody had idolized his father. He was tall, handsome, had loved music and most importantly, had seemed incapable of not making people feel loved and appreciated. Not just Cody and his mother, but friends of theirs and even the few friends Jackson had made, due to the need to move so often with his dad's job, a trouble shooter for a large railroad company.

" If I'd know I'd become a railroad tramp myself, I'd have become a plumber instead." was the sole true complaint John Jackson had ever made consistently as far as Cody could remember. It was hard, they'd moved, by his count, ten times in as many years. Some of the moves, like when they had spent almost a year in rural Northeast Mississippi had actually been good. He'd even gotten to live just a few miles don the road from his grandfather, his mother's father and her sole surviving relative. Her mother had died from a stroke when Cody was only and infant and she'd been an only child. There had never been contact with his dads side of the family for a very simple reason; he'd been placed in an orphanage at birth and to make matters worse, he was born a hemophiliac . Needless to say, no one would adopt a child with such a potentially deadly illness. By the time he was fifteen, John Jackson, and the last name known only at his birthmother's insistance, had been through four foster family's and had decided he'd had enough of the system. For another year he'd studied hard and done enough odd jobs to pay the fees to have himself emancipated.

He'd lived on his on for six long years, taking any type of work that would keep him fed and housed when a far older coworker had encouraged him to get his GED and apply for college. " Johnnycake," sixty year old Bertha Jorkins had said, calling him by her pet name in her deep Southern accent, " you're too damn smart to be workin' in a fast foot joint the rest of your life. Get an education and get the hell out of here." John would frequently tell that story all of his life, " It was the most profane pep talk you ever heard; ol' Bertie threatened to stomp my ass if I didn't do as she said and believe me son, " he'd say, blue eyes twinkling, " when a six foot, two hundred pound woman who could lift four fifty pound bags of flour at once gives you orders, you listen!"

It was in his second year of night school when he'd met the love of his life, Judith Jenkins. Within the year, the two were engaged. One month after graduation, they were married. The year after, Cody was born, the same eek as the railroad offered an entry level job to John Jackson. For the next fifteen years , travel was the great constant in their life.

While they had never been rich, by any means, they had been well enough off that Judith only worked as a LPN for three shifts a eek. So she could seen time with Jackson and the increasingly rare time with John. So it had gone for years until she'd finally had enough.. She threatened to divorce him and take their son to Mississippi if he couldn't get a permanent posting. After a tense six weeks, John took an opening in the Los Angeles offices, although it was a reduced level, not management.

The first three months were good. Cody got to see his dad every day. The sole tension came when Judith had to go to work in a hospital full time. The work wasn't what bothered her, the late night hours did. She'd frequently call John and have him meet her there on the nights she worked over, saying she was too nervous to drive in the LA traffic . It was on one of these nights tragedy had struck.

Judith had been working in the ER, helping with triage when a angry young man, half crazed from a combination of meth and alcohol had accosted her and another nurse. They had gotten security to detain him, but he'd broken free . A terrified call to the apartment home had gotten John and Cody there to pick her up at 3 a.m. When they got to the parking section after picking her up inside, Judith's car would not crank; she'd left the key in the venerable 1985 Pontiac Sunbird and the foglights had never ent off. They had to go out to the public area hen John had parked. Unfortunately, the would be assailant from earlier was also in the lot, hiding.

It must have seemed like a gift from above to the deranged man. He'd aited until the three were almost to their car before running up to strike John in the back of the head with a enormous wrench he'd stolen from an unlocked maintenance section. He'd knocked Cody to the ground almost contemptuously, as the six foot man easily outweighed him by twenty five pounds and had rage and strength on his side. He'd also proven to have a backup weapon, a box cutter that he'd put to Judith's throat and as about to use John tackled him in desperation. He'd been able to free Judith and was reaching over to grab Cody, who had hit his head in his fall, when the lunatic had stabbed him in the back, then once in the neck before turning to run. As Judith tried desperately to staunch the blood flow , screaming for help all the time, Cody was forced to helplessly watch as the light forever left John Edward Jackson's eyes.

The next year had been hell. Within three months, Judith had begun drinking heavily and lost her job. She'd had to move to a far more dangerous section of town. Jackson had to become used to being one of only five Caucasians at his new school. It was only through his assumed air of indiffence, his ability to see things happening and keep silent and his obvious neutrality to the whole race issue that let him survive and even make friends with a handful of the Samoans there. All the while Judith, who blamed herself for the death, steadily worsened. Seven months after John died, Judith was arrested at her home, in front of her terrified son, for stealing prescription medication from work. She was sentenced to probation, but subject to a year of rehab first. Cody was immediately placed in the warms hands of the California childrens services. He'd been flatly told that his mother was not going to see him if he got into trouble or if she didn't do well at the rehabilitation facility.

Jackson firmly shut these thoughts off as he raced into the ancient building, snagged the large first aid bag, recently upgraded by some first aid kits Lex and Eric had found in Russell's hiding places, and took off to where Eric lay. Possibly dieing.

Possibly already dead.

The thunder boomed overhead as the sandy haired man raced don the coastline, aving crashing onto the beach less than thirty feet away.