It's a Wonderful Life Worth Living

by bammi1

Would the world have been a better place if he had never been born? That was the question Bobby asked himself. COMPLETE.

4. Chapter 4

It's a Wonderful Life Worth Living Chapter 4

"That's right, Bobby. You got your wish; you were never born."

Bobby couldn't help it, he laughed out loud. "What the hell is this, something out of 'It's a Wonderful Life'?"

Jacob had never heard of 'It's a Wonderful Life.' "Excuse me?"

Bobby stopped laughing, irritated again. "Next time you try to make something up, try something that hasn't been seen at least 10 times by average American."

Jacob still looked confused. "Well, I don't know about all that. What I do know is that you were never born. And you get to see what the world would be like without Robert Goren."

"You're…serious, aren't you?" Bobby said, realizing for the first time that Jacob might possibly be a little "off," and maybe pose a danger to others. This guy's crazier than I am. Very slowly, he reached into his belt for his gun. To his horror, it wasn't there.

"Looking for your gun?"

Startled, Bobby looked up quickly. Oh God! He's got the gun! Somehow this psycho managed to get my gun! Bobby watched Jacob carefully, scrutinizing him, looking for any sign of where he may have put the gun. Not seeing it, he said, as non-threateningly as possible, "Could you give me the gun, please."

"What gun? You don't have a gun. You--"

"Bullshit!" Bobby was done being nice. "Give me the fucking gun!"

"I'm trying to tell you! You don't have a gun because you were never born—"

Not even hearing him, Bobby felt a moment of fear, then tried to calm himself. Losing his gun was a serious matter. He had to find it! He grabbed Jacob, and did a quick frisk. No gun. He started retracing his steps, until he got to the start of alley, the last place he remembered having it when he scared those gang members away—oh God! Did one of them have it? He had just committed the unpardonable sin of losing his gun. If he wasn't in trouble before (which he was) he was now. More fuel to add to the fire. "I have to find that gun!" he told Jacob, kicking the snow with his foot in case it had been dropped and covered by the falling snow.

He looked all over, kicking the snow, then on his hands and knees, moving it with his hands. He looked up at Jacob. "Are you going to stand there, or are you going to help?" he demanded.

"I'm helping," Jacob said, giving one feeble kick at the snow and stopping, knowing there was no point to it. There was no gun. Bobby glared up at him angrily, and Jacob tried once more. "You don't have a gun because you were never in the police department. You were never in the police department because you were never born."

"Shut the fuck up!" Bobby was sick of hearing Jacob ramble on with his nonsense.

Jacob didn't say another word, and stood there watching until Bobby finally gave up.

"It's not here," he said miserably. When Jacob said nothing, Bobby shook his head in frustration and told him, "Well, say something, just not that bullshit."

"But—hmmm, do you have your wallet, with your ID?"

Bobby felt his back pocket, then all over. "No."

"Ah ha! See?"

"See what? That you ripped off my wallet, too? Were you working with those guys?" he accused.

"Heavens no! But don't you see? You have no wallet, no ID because you—"

"Were never born," Bobby finished.

"So you believe me now?" Jacob asked hopefully.

"No. I just lost it or…someone stole it." He looked at Jacob. "Good thing I'm dead, now, huh?" he said sarcastically, "cause I sure ain't much of a detective."

"Technically, you're not dead, you—"

"Luckily we're not too far from my place," Bobby continued. "It's possible I left my ID there…or maybe at Marty's Bar? Gotta tell 'ya, I'm not exactly at my best right now…uh…?"

"Jacob, my name is Jacob, and that's why I'm here," Jacob said softly.

"Well, you can leave now, Jacob, 'cause I'm heading home." He couldn't believe it, I even fucked up killing myself. Could this night get any worse? he thought.

"Oh it can get lots worse, and it will before the night is over."

"What? How did you—I didn't say that out loud…did I?" He put his head in his hands, thoroughly confused. "What is happening to me? Maybe I had too much to drink, I don't know…" He suddenly realized, "My headache…it's gone!"

"That's right, you're not going to feel any more pain. There's nothing wrong with you now, Bobby. Nothing more than not really being here won't cure."

"Knock it off, Jacob! I'm going home. And you're not welcome."

Jacob followed anyway. Bobby thought about running, with his long legs he could easily outdistance him, and get rid of this crackpot. But something told him that probably wouldn't work, either. Not tonight. The guy would probably fly to keep up with him. As they neared Marty's bar, it was obvious Bobby's car was gone.

Bobby stared at the place where he'd parked his car.

"Is your car missing?" Jacob said. It really wasn't a question.

Bobby looked at him sharply. "No. I um, forgot, I walked. I walk here a lot," he lied. "Besides, my car keys are gone, too."

They headed back to Bobby's apartment. As they neared his building, Bobby slowed down, then stood gazing at the building.

"Something wrong, Bobby?" Jacob asked, seeing the look on his face.

"My apartment…it looks like…like…"

"Like a bunch of crack dealers live here?"

"I'll find out what the hell is going on!" Bobby said adamantly. Getting closer he saw the entire building was run down, as he entered he saw that most of the light bulbs were broken, providing little light. The stairwell smelled of urine, vomit, and beer. Most of the windows were broken out, he could hear a baby crying pitifully somewhere. Going to his own apartment, he tried opening the door; the handle came off in his hands. As he tried to push it open, the door suddenly was pulled open from the inside, and he was confronted by a very angry woman carrying the crying baby.

"Whadda ya want?" she demanded. "You asshole. You broke my goddamn door!"

"What do I want? You're in my apartment!" Looking behind her he could see the place was a total wreck. "And what did you do to it? How'd you get in?"

The woman glared at him. "I don't know what the hell you're smokin' but it seems a hell of a lot better than the stuff I got. Now get out!" She slammed the door in his face. It came right back open, and she slammed it again.

Bobby stood there for a moment in shock, then watched as two incredibly grungy men made their way up the stairs. They looked at him suspiciously as they bumped him on their way to another apartment. And another door opened a crack, then a moment later closed again.

"Don't you see, Bobby?" Jacob said softly. "When you were living, this was a nice place. Everyone knew a cop lived here, the drug dealers automatically stayed away, and respectable people lived here. This place was a good place to live. Since you were never born, this place was overrun by drug addicts and drug dealers. People like that heroin addict with her poor little crack baby…"

"You're freakin nuts! I gotta get out of here."

Once outside, Jacob said, "Where to now, Bobby?"

"I don't—how the hell do you know my name anyway?"

"Why wouldn't I know your name? I've been watching you since you were a boy."

"Watching me? You…you mean you've been stalking me? Is that why you're here now?"

"No, I told you I'm here to save you."

Bobby slumped against the side of the building. "I don't understand what you're doing to me, but…I'm gonna be okay, Jacob. I'm okay!! Just leave me the hell alone!" Bobby stalked off angrily.

Jacob looked up to the heavens. "I know, I know," he said skeptically. "This one is a tough one."

Bobby never did find his car. He managed to hail a cab, and got in. Before he could even shut the door, Jacob jumped in. Bobby sighed, rubbing his eyes and his forehead.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked.

"I…I'm not sure…just drive around…" Bobby told him distractedly.

The cabbie stared at him for a minute, then mumbled, 'Just drive around' suspiciously. Something was strange here.

After a bit, Jacob said, "Bobby, how are you going to pay for this?"

Bobby closed his eyes in frustration. "I don't know. I forgot I don't have my wallet."

Hearing this, the cabbie slammed on his brakes, throwing his passengers around in the back of his car. "Get out!" he yelled at them. "I knew there was something up with you two. Get out!"

Jacob and a frustrated Bobby found themselves out on the street. Bobby had no idea where to go, so he just started walking. He came to the end of street, waiting for the light to change. Even at this late hour the streets were busy.

"Well, helloo," a woman said, touching his arm, stroking it up and down, flirting with him. Bobby had no time for this, and turned to tell her.

He got the shock of his life. "Maggie!"

Maggie Coulter looked at him, surprised.

"Maggie? Maggie Coulter?"

Now she backed up a tad from him, surprised. "Who are you?" she spat. "I don't know you!"

This time it was Bobby who grabbed her arm. "Maggie, what are you doing? Out here in the cold in the middle of the night, dressed like that?"

The woman was dressed very scantily, in extremely short black leather shorts, black leather boots, and a matching leather bra top. A very small fake fur covered her thin shoulders.

Maggie stared at him, not recognizing the man at all. But she liked his looks immediately, and latched onto his arm again, very closely. "How do you know me? Did I do you before? Sometimes when I drink, I can't remember, y'know? Whatever, I like you big guys. The bigger the better," she said, "if you know what I mean." Her meaning was crystal clear.

"Maggie, what happened to you?" Bobby was at a loss, and very sad. "You were doing fine, getting ready to graduate from college—"

"Okay, mister," she said, breaking contact and moving back. "You're startin' to scare me."

"Maggie, let me help you! We can—"

"I'm outta here, mister. Too bad…" she looked his body over regretfully, then took off.

"Maggie! Maggie!" He started to go after her, but Jacob stopped him.

"You can't help her, Bobby. She's too far gone."

"But—she--what happened? I thought—"

"Her mind's been gone since the second time she was kidnapped and raped by Simon Matic."

Bobby looked hard at Jacob. "What do you mean, the second time?"

"Her kidnapper was never caught, and was so cocky, knowing he'd never be caught, that he kidnapped her again, raping her continuously for a week. After that, Maggie lost all respect for herself and her body, and well, this is what happened. Her kidnapper is still out there to this day, wrecking havoc on many more women."

"That's impossible!" Bobby raged. "We caught him, and she made the ID. He's been in prison ever since!"

"Well…no. Bobby, you weren't there to catch him, or to help Maggie. Remember? And all the other women in this city he raped? Since you weren't there to catch Simon Matic, you weren't there to help them, either. So you see, Bobby, your life has already impacted many other lives."

"You're lying!" Bobby fumed. "You've drugged me, or done something. I don't know what you did, but you've done something…" He leaned against the street lamp. This night was turning into a nightmare. "I need to talk to someone, Jacob, someone who won't judge me." or arrest me. Bobby had a desperate look in his eyes.

"I know just the person!" Jacob told him, hoping that this one would do the trick.

"Yes!" Bobby said, as he recognized Lewis' Auto Body Shop. "Lewis is doing really well," Bobby spoke fondly of his friend. "He's in the process of opening another shop. At least something is going right for somebody."

Bobby glanced at him, but Jacob didn't say anything. Getting closer now, they could read the sign, 'Bill's Auto Works.'

"What the hell?" Entering the building, they saw a man standing by an office.

"Can I help you?" he asked courteously.

"Yeah," Bobby said. "Where's Lewis?"

The man looked confused. "Lewis?"

Bobby was starting to get irritated. "Yeah, Lewis, the guy who owns this shop!"

"I own this shop," the guy said, sensing trouble. "My name's Bill Rodgers. Hence the name on the sign, 'Bill's Auto Shop.' Now what can I do for you?"

"You're wrong! Lewis Martin owns this place! He inherited it from his dad!"

Rodgers laughed. "Okay, I know now. Lewis Martin, that loser!"

Now Bobby was getting angry. "Loser?!"

"Hell, yeah! Listen, buddy, between you and me, that guy had no business trying to run this place. He ran it into the ground soon after taking over for his dad. I bought this place out from under him for a song. I ain't saying the guy was dumb, but he wasn't exactly the sharpest crayon in the box, know what I mean? No head for business at all, y'know?"

"Yeah, okay." Bobby looked defeated. "So where is Lewis now?"

"Probably down at the Burger Joint, where he works. The guy couldn't even manage that. They got a teenager running it."

As they left the building, Rodgers called after them, "Sure I can't help you guys with something?"

Bobby started heading to the Burger Joint, followed by Jacob. "Bobby, you're not going to like it."

They entered the building, and immediately spotted Lewis. He was wearing a dirty white apron as he wiped down a table. His glasses were covered in grease.

"Lewis?" Bobby said softly.

Lewis looked up, grabbing his glasses and wiping them on his apron. "Yeah?"

Bobby was shocked by his appearance. "Lewis, what happened to you?"

Lewis shrugged. "Don't know what you're talking about, man." He didn't seem all that anxious to find out, either.

Bobby grabbed him by the shoulders. "Lewis! Look at me! Closely!"

Lewis stood there, staring at him, a little frightened. "What…what do you want? The money's in the cash register, take it, take it all!"

Bobby was totally exasperated. "Lewis, don't you know me? We grew up together! I used to come over to your house, all the time! Remember? Mom or Dad would beat the crap out of me, and I'd end up over your place?"

At Lewis' blank look, Bobby continued. "I taught you all about math! You were doing great! Your business was doing great—"

"Nobody ever taught me anything!" Lewis broke from Bobby's grasp angrily. "If I'd known any kind of math you think I would've Iost my goddamn shop? You're fuckin' nuts buddy! I don't know you from Adam. But I guess we'll find out; my manager just called the police!"

They could hear sirens in the distance. "C'mon, Bobby, we need to leave!" Jacob pulled on his arm, and finally got the shell-shocked Bobby out the door.

"I didn't think this was going to be so difficult," Jacob said, looking up to Heaven.

They managed to move fast enough that the police never caught up with them and they ended up near a cemetery.

"You don't have to tell me, Jacob. I never went over to Lewis' house, and I never taught Lewis anything."

Jacob merely nodded, and Bobby suddenly became aware of where they were. "This," he said shakily, "this is a cemetery…"

"Yep. It's where your mother and brother are buried."

"No…it can't be! This place is rundown, overgrown with weeds and—my mother—I buried her in a cemetery where—"

"Look at the name on the headstones," Jacob gently suggested.

Bobby crouched down, pulling the frozen weeds and snow away from the headstones that were placed fairly close together.

The first merely said, Frances Goren b-1934 d-1972. The other said Frank Goren b-1956 d-1974.

Bobby knelt in front of the graves, rubbing his tearing eyes. "Mom…Frank…" Still staring he said, "The dates…they're all wrong. Mom and Frank—Mom just died last year, and Frank just a few weeks ago…"

Jacob knelt by Bobby, his arm around him. "This is difficult, I know. But the truth is your mother died much earlier in her life. She would never take her pills, and she had a bad psychotic break, and killed herself."

Bobby looked at him in horror. Jacob continued, "You weren't there to take care of her, Bobby. She was miserable, ever since her symptoms developed. You were the only one who ever made sure she took her pills. She really had a much better life when you were there to take care of her."

"And…and F-Frank?" Bobby asked shakily.

"Since your mother was unable to care for Frank, he was in and out of foster homes since the age of ten. He ended up overdosing at age eighteen. And, he never got the chance to father Donny. So your nephew Donny was never born, either."

Jacob helped Bobby as he got slowly to his feet. Then he dropped back down, and started pulling furiously at the weeds surrounding their graves, the tears nearly blinding him.

"Funny, isn't it, how one man's life touches so many others? This is really a great gift, Bobby: the chance to see what the world would be like without you."

Bobby didn't think it was so wonderful.

"So what other bad news do you have for me?"

"Oh, I can't tell you, it's not allowed."

He grabbed Jacob by the shoulders. "Tell me, damn it! Tell me! What about Denise?! What about Eames?!"

"You're going to have to find that out for yourself, Bobby," Jacob told him.

Bobby let him go, and nodded resignedly. He still held out a faint hope that neither of them would have been affected, that this whole thing was still not real, that somehow the scotch he'd had earlier had been drugged, or something. Anything. Anything to be out of this nightmare. He just wasn't sure of anything anymore.

tbc