Johnny stretched his long legs out in front of him and leaned back against the gravestone in an attempt to make himself more comfortable. He let out a quiet sigh as he smashed the butt of his cigarette into the dusty ground. He ran his tongue over his chapped lips, closing his eyes. The sunlight cast shadows across his cheeks. The shadows made the man's eyelashes look like delicate lace rather than fine hairs clumped together because he had been crying only a few minutes before.
"Jimmy, I have to say that you have brought upon most of the pain and suffering I've ever had to face over my entire lifetime." The man absent-mindedly tugged at the dog tags around his neck as he spoke. "But I never really minded all that much, because you were..." Johnny trailed off, searching for a word that could accurately describe Saint Jimmy. Strange, peevish, loud, sarcastic, unique, flamboyant, and the list could just go on, "you were Jimmy." He said finally, giving a curt nod, even though he knew that no one was around to see it.
"I never thought I'd be thanking someone for ruining my life." There was a beat of silence. "But then again, I never imagined that I'd experience half the things I have in the past couple of years." He had ran away from Jingletown, fallen in and out if love a few times, lost friends, befriended a drug dealer, and came to love a twisted and deceptive man, who just happened to be that said drug dealer.
A flock of doves landed in the lot across the street, the soft down of their feathers rustled as they cried, and seemingly laughed together, the sound their throaty chortle carried throughout the nearby area. That sound and clouds that hung across the sky, not quite letting the sun shine through seemed to set the mood for reminiscing and mourning. And there was just something about a Tuesday at three in the afternoon that made it all fall perfectly into place, like a skillfully played game of Tetris.
"Know what, Jimmy? I'm not quite sure if I can ever forgive you for being the reason Whatsername and I didn't work out." Johnny mused wistfully, plucking a blade of grass from the dirt and shredding it between his fingers. "Some times I think that me and her could have really been great, a power couple or some shit."
The man tried to speak, but his breath hitched and his words got lost in the process. He wanted to say that it was okay, that even though he didn't want to forgive Jimmy for destroying his relationship, he still forgave him in the end. There was no better reason than death to make amends. And even though he did miss Whatsername, the days he spent alone with Jimmy were some of the best of his life. And Johnny was certain that he was pure poison for the woman he loved.
It seemed as if the whole world was asleep that morning. The hum of the heater was like a lullaby, the pale light was more of a comfort that eased the mind and would pull you back into the land of dreams, rather than a blinding wake up call. And the fact that the previous night was a blur of tossed sheets, hot kisses, and anything but sleep only made Whatsername even more reluctant to crawl out of bed.
But when her eyes fluttered open only to find the space beside her empty, she decided that it would be a good time to search for Johnny. That's how life had been going since her path had crossed with his, late nights, early mornings, shared cups of coffee, sweet jokes, and attempts at making life better for the both of them.
Right from the start Whatsername had made it perfectly clear that she didn't approve of the things Johnny was doing because Saint Jimmy had convinced him to. And for the sake of their relationship, Johnny vowed to go clean, to cut syringes and highs from his life, and to focus on better things, to focus on love- their love.
In the past few months, Whatsername had grown used to finding Johnny sitting out on the balcony, shivering because he was too lazy to put on a coat, so she'd bring him a blanket and a mug of hot coffee, black, he didn't like sugar or milk all that much. She'd sit with him and smoke a cigarette or two as they silently gazed out at the dirty city whose nightlife was just heading to bed, and whose active citizens were just awakening to go on with their mundane lives.
To most, this routine would seem trivial, as if the two of them had lost their edge, but to the couple, it was comforting. It was a constant.
Growing up, Johnny was caught in a whirlwind of change. His dad left when he was young, and the only fatherly figures he had were a string of suitors who hardly stuck around long enough to teach him how to shave or even pretend to be a parent. From a young age, Johnny felt like he just got in the way and was a bother to everyone, especially his mother. All of his life he had just been searching for one thing that could stay there forever, one person he wouldn't be a burden to. He thought Jimmy was that person, but Whatsername made him think again. Both people wer wonderful. But Whatsername was a burst of light, where Jimmy was a black hole. She was a dawning day, full of promise, and he was a night about to start. She was kindness and love, while he was bitterness and rage.
Whatshername's life hadn't been much easier than Johnny's. She was the product of a drunken mistake between a promising honor student and the local badboy. Her parent's tried to make it work, but before she was born, her dad ditched town and her mother decided it would be best for her to be raised by her grandparents. The second her eighteenth birthday came around, Whatsername's bags were packed and she was bolting to the nearest big city. She couldn't take another quiet night watching Bonanza with her Grandpa.
Yes, it broke her grandparents' hearts to see her leave like that, but they understood. The girl had dreams too big for that little town to nurture. Like Johnny, Whatsername had come across Saint Jimmy and thought he was the answer to all of her problems. She was wrong. He was just a time bomb, and the seconds were just ticking down, the time for him to do something dangerous and erratic was getting closer and closer. Luckily, she realized and was able to get out before anything bad happened.
Now, despite the fact that all around her she only saw failed relationships, she still longed for love. She needed an anchor to keep her sane. Johnny found himself dreaming of the same thing. He just wanted someone he could love, and who would love him, unconditionally. At first, the pair was perfect, they suited each other wonderfully. Johnny made the decision to go clean, to rid himself all drugs (aside from nicotine, of course).
When Whatsername glanced outside to the balcony, what she was greeted with was Johnny shaking, not the usual shivers of a man who was too lazy to put on a coat before going outside, but the violent shakes of a junkie in need of a high. And the Saint was leaning against the railing, readily providing the poison to calm the shaking nerves. And that so called "saint" had a wry smirk plastered across his lips, he was perfectly aware of the havoc that was about to commence.
The girl's eyes opened wide with the sudden realization of the exchange going on between the two men just outside her home. Angrily she marched out to put a stop to it. "What the fuck, Johnny? Seriously, what is your problem?" She yelled. "And you stay out of this, James." She growled as she saw Jimmy open his mouth to speak. Eventually, he was bound to make some smart-ass remark, but now was not the time for it.
"Calm down, babe." Johnny mumbled, reaching out to touch his lover's hand, but she pulled away from his touch. It took everything he had not to let his disappointment show. "Look, darling, honey, baby. I love you. I'm sorry. And yes, I lied. But I had to. Saint Jimmy just showed up here one day when you were out, and I guess he sorta got me hooked again, and he showed me what living really is."
You could almost hear Whatsername's scarred heart shatter into a million and one pieces, and you could tell that her heart would never be quite whole again. "You promised," Her wavering voice was practically a whimper. "You said you'd do anything for me. You promised to get better. What happened to that? Do you not care anymore?"
It was in the brief moment of silence that followed the Saint took the initiative to speak up. "So, hon, I guess we can conclude that you are no longer the most important thing in this lovely man's life. So just suck it up and move on, sweet cheeks. Have fun in your life alone."
"Shut. Up. Jimmy." She spat out through clenched teeth. It wasn't true, there was not a way that it possibly could be. Johnny had said that he loved her with all of his heart, that he'd sooner die than break her trust by turning back to drugs and the life that Saint Jimmy oh-so-graciously offered him. "Johnny," She said hesitantly, almost afraid that the words Jimmy spoke were the truth. "Please tell me that Jimmy isn't saying something true. Please tell me that you're going to chose me over him. Just let me know that you care about me more, that you'll quit all that," She gestured toward the leather-clad drug dealer. "And stay here with me, because you love me most."
There was another long beat of silence, only this time, the Saint had the mind enough to keep his mouth shut. And then, finally, Johnny spoke up. "I can't. I really like you, and you're pretty cool. BUt I just can't choose you over this wild and exciting life I've been offered. That's like being able to choose between raisins and chocolate, and picking raisins. You're great and all, but some things are just way more important than having a cool chick waiting at home for you. And living life on the edge is one of those things. I'm not sure that I can give everything up right after I reclaimed my life, y'know?"
"Oh, God, Jimmy, she was so pissed. Do you remember that look on her face. The way she told me to die. All the things she threw out of the apartment. The way she stopped answering my calls. How she told every other person within a thousand mile radius that I was bad news and was to be avoided at all costs." With each thing the man listed off, his voice grew softer and softer. "Sometimes I still run into girls out on the street and they get mad at me for no reason.
"But, hey, at least I had you." He said softly after a brief pause. Johnny shifted a bit as he laced his fingers together, "And I don't think that I could really ask for anything better than that." The man fell dead silent. He no longer had Jimmy, he no longer had Whatsername, Tunny certainly forgot about him while overseas, who knew if he still graced Will's scattered thoughts, and everyone who mattered back in Jingletown ran off after seeing the wild life the bright lights of the city offered.
He now had nothing.
Thousands of questions raced through Johnny's mind, but he couldn't bring himself to ask a single one of them. He didn't think that he could stand the dead silence that would follow. As he glanced at the cemetery around him, he noticed that he wasn't the only mourner present. There were widows donned in black dresses leaving flowers at their deceased husband's graves, friends with eyes squeezed tight, fighting back tears as they came to the realization that their friends really were gone. And with that, Johnny realized that he was even less special than he originally believed. He realized that he wasn't the only sad person on the face of this earth, or even in this shitty town. Everyone had something to be upset about, and he wasn't any different from the rest of them. They had all lost someone important, and all of them were feeling the same pain that loss brings.
"So this is where the famous Saint Jimmy spends his time off the streets." Johnny commented as he gazed around the small house. He had expected a trashy apartment with broken locks and prostitutes and junkies hanging around outside, but instead with a rather modest house. Inside there were old paperbacks strewn about the floor, candles with hardly any wick left to burn. The paint on the walls was fading and chipped, and there were empty cans and chip bags scattered around the carpeted floor. Shelves all around were piled high with books; Word War Z, Great Expectations, Scorpio Races, Edgar Allan Poe: His Life and Legacies, Jimmy had it all. Quite impressive and even more surprising.
"Holy fuck, Jimmy, what's with all the books?" Johnny breathed, not quite believing the page filled scene before them.
Jimmy strolled over to pick a few novels off of the coffee table. "I like reading." He muttered plainly as he put the books onto shelves without even pausing to think of where they belonged, as he knew their spot by instinct alone. "When I was little my father skipped out on mom and me with some whore from out of state. So mom had to pick up a bunch of odd jobs to make ends meet. The poor woman felt bad about leaving her angel-faced son home alone all the time, so she would bring home second-hand books too keep me company." The black haired man offered a shrug. "Words just kinda grew on me, I guess."
Frankly, Johnny was shocked. He could hardly imagine this rough and tough man ever being a child, let alone one who sat at home, wonder-filled eyes opened wide, staring at a book, as he waited for his dear mommy to return from her second job. "How did you end up like this, then?" Johnny gestured to Jimmy. He couldn't imagine how such a loving and caring mother could possibly foster such devious spawn.
There was a long pause, the transition was a dead giveaway that this was uncharted grounds, that not many people delved into the Saint's past, and even fewer got answers.
"Mom got real sick toward the end of high school." Jimmy said, although his voice didn't soften or waver, Johnny could tell his heart was breaking, as were the walls that made Jimmy so cold, so distant, so inhuman. "She had to be put in the hospital, so she couldn't make money and we definitely couldn't afford the hospital stay. I got a job at some sketchy-ass 7/11 and a lot of people kept asking where they could get weed. Everything just escalated from there." Jimmy took a breath. "Mom knew she wouldn't like where I was getting so much money, so she never asked. And I never bothered to tell her.
Johnny didn't trust himself to speak. He knew that he'd try to say something kind and it would just come out vulgar and twisted. "So, uh, who's your favorite author?" He asked after a long bout of silence, trying to change the subject.
"Poe." Jimmy stated firmly without even pausing to think. "He was mom's favorite, so most of my fondest memories involve his stories and poems." He trailed off. The look in his eye made the godlike Saint seem human. Even though it took away from his cool, mysterious aura, it only made him more fantastic. The emotions he showed only made an outlandish character into a relatable one.
"Now, Johnny-boy, we have plans this evening, so get ready. As long as you live with me, the two of us are going to have lots of fun." And with that, Saint Jimmy's walls were back in place.