The Truth About Janie Whitfield

This is a work in progress. I am currently working on this for my Creative Writing class.

It was nearly midnight, as Michael was climbing into bed after a long day at the office. Ready to get the long day of reports, meetings and endlessly annoying coworkers behind him, he was just climbing into bed when he heard a desperate pounding at his front door. He cursed aloud. Not tonight of all nights. Not when he had to be back at work in six hours for more madness that made him want to pull his hair out, or in a better economy, quit. Staring up at the ceiling he prayed the knocking would stop, whoever it was could surely wait until morning, but it continued. Irritated and tired, Michael relented, quickly struggling into the first pair of sweats and t-shirt he could find and hurried downstairs to investigate. Thoughts racing, he desperately flung the front door open and found himself face to face with Janie Whitfield.

Seeing her threw him into the past almost instantly. Aghast Michael was at a loss for words. The woman before him looked nothing like the Janie he remembered. The Janie Whitfield he knew forever resided in Florida. She was a guy’s best friend and a girl’s worst nightmare. He noticed right away her body was extremely thin. The long, brunette locks he remembered were now chopped jaggedly below the ear as if done hurriedly with a razor blade. Janie was his first friend in Kindergarten. She used to sit alone in the corner reading picture books until Michael befriended her. The other kids made fun of her because she didn’t wear jelly sandals or put her hair in pigtails like the others. Michael appreciated Janie. He always traded half of his peanut butter and grape jelly for half her tuna salad sandwich, and she would teach him about dinosaurs, cars or whatever topic had her attention for the day. In third grade mean Jimmy Harris forced Michael into the boy’s bathroom before class. Jimmy didn’t like Michael because of Janie. According to Jimmy boys didn’t hang out with girls. That was when Jimmy shoved Michael’s head in the toilet and flushed it. Ashamed, Michael went to class wet and afraid, but when Janie found out she punched Jimmy clear in the eye, just like a boy, and a got whole week in detention for it. When Janie lived a street over in the other neighborhood, they’d been close friends. They would walk home together after school, stopping at the corner store for Coca-Colas before going their separate ways. Despite the talk of the town, it had always been strictly platonic between the two of them, though he’d always cared for her inexplicably. But now she was here on his doorstep, her ghostly eyes streaked with tears, and he didn’t even know how she’d found him.

The day she walked out of John F. Kennedy Middle School in Florida on last day of the sixth grade, after the class pizza and yearbook party, was the last time he saw her. She’d bought him a Coke from the drink machine, told him to stay cool, turned on her heel and walked away, never to return. Michael was reminded of the unknowing way the small suburb of Orlando, accepted the complete disappearance of the Whitfield family, almost as if they’d never existed in the first place. His parents would change the subject at the dinner table if he brought it up and all the friends they’d shared since Kindergarten ceased to mention her name ever again. Even he’d started to forget as if his imagination in fact created her.

Michael stared at her awkwardly as a plethora of ideas ran through his head at the same time. He wanted to ask where she’d been all this time or why she’d left in the first place, but it sounded too insensitive to start out like that. He wanted to ask what horrific thing had happened that was so bad she was here on his doorstep in the middle of the night instead of at a number of other places that would’ve made more sense. Michael stepped back, slightly and stared into her eyes silently. As he opened his mouth to speak, Janie lurched forward, without warning, and kissed him. She pulled him into a forceful embrace, clinging to him as if she were clinging to life, allowing her lips to flutter against his for what seemed like ages. Suddenly she pulled away, staring back at him as if she was searching his soul for answers.

“I have so much to tell you and I know none of it’s going to make sense,” she said.

“Come in,” he replied. “I’ll put on a pot of tea”.

“I’m on the run,” she said sipping her cup of herbal tea. “The Russian mafia is after me”.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked inquisitively.

“It was sixth grade year that I found out something was different about my dad. He’d been out of work so long with the housing market in a slump, but every morning he got up, put on a suit and left. He told my mom and me he was job hunting and we didn’t have a reason to doubt him. After a couple of months dad finally found a job. We quickly went from barely making it to having more than ever. Dad purchased a new family car and was about to put a bid on a new house in a better neighborhood until everything turned for the worse.” Janie paused before continuing. “I was with my aunt that night my parents were on a date. They were out to dinner when a man came up to dad asking for a briefcase. My father ran. It turned out dad had been working for the Russian mafia. He didn’t know it at first, but the money spoke for itself. He went to the police with a briefcase of dirty money and statements of reports that outlined numerous company embezzlements. My parents testified in the hearings that lead to the conviction and deportation of two lead mafia men. For their safety they were given new identities and relocated to Juneau, Alaska as part of the witness protection program.”

“The mafia? Isn’t that only in movies, Janie?” Michael was stirring his sugar spoon around in his cup as he spoke.

“No, Michael. The mafia is definitely real. I’m the only one who knows where my parents are.”

“If you’re in danger, why weren’t you taken with your parents into witness protection?” Michael asked.

“I wasn’t in danger at first because I wasn’t in the picture. My father led a pseudo life while working for the mafia. Until that night they didn’t know my father had a wife much less a daughter. It wasn’t until after the case concluded. My parents broke security procedure in order to see me before they left for Alaska, inadvertently putting me in danger.”

Michael tapped his fingers feverishly on the table. “Why did you come to me?”

“You’re the only one I know, Michael. When I left Florida, I lived with family in Chicago and New York for a short time but I had to move on. If I stay on the move there is less of a chance they’ll catch onto my path. It was really by chance that I found you, Michael. Searching the phonebook I saw your name and I had to know if it was really you. You’re the only chance I have in this world. Everyone in my family is afraid of this mess. I can’t even talk to my parents because of these freaks. I need you. I can trust you.”

Michael pinched himself on the arm praying this was a dream, but to no surprise he felt the searing pain that accompanied the action. Glancing around his darkened kitchen, he became keenly aware of the possibility they were being watched, as he eyed his unadorned windows.

“What do you want me to do, Janie?” Staring past the shell of the woman before him he saw the vulnerable nature of her being and realized the shift in roles between them. As a kid Janie had been his protector and now she was here seeking solace from him. It would be impossible, heartless even, for him to send her away after all her trouble to find him. Where would she go? Would she wonder around yet another foreign city sleeping on benches in the park or behind superstore dumpsters like a gazelle unaware of the impending lions waiting on the chance to pounce?

“Stay with me,” Michael smiled. “I’d be glad to have you as long as you feel comfortable.” Reaching across the table he grabbed her hand for support.

“I don’t want to be a problem. I know I’m a dangerous commodity right now” she said.

Danger. He hadn’t thought about the possibility of a greasy mob boss bursting into his foyer and killing him over Janie, but since she was there he couldn’t tell her to leave. It was worth the possibility of lying dead in a pool of blood on his plush white carpet than losing sleep over the image of his best friend alone in an alley as she breathes her last on cold cement in the heart of the Queen city.

Michael led Janie upstairs to his guest bedroom. He gathered some soap and other necessities for her bathroom and realizing she had come without a suitcase he dug for some clothes from his own closet. He kissed her forehead and tucked her in like a young child before crossing the hall to his own room.

Michael and Janie had always been different. Michael was from a comfortably middle class family, living in a popular, affluent, suburb. Janie’s family lived a couple streets over in the other neighborhood where the annual earned income dropped before your eyes. Michael’s world was the land of opportunity with funds specifically allocated for college, but Janie didn’t have those things. But it was the way Janie acted that attracted Michael. She never acted as if her plate was empty. She acted as if she was just as important as Michael, and because of her attitude, she was. Janie knew the day she hit Jimmy Harris that people would label her and talk about her “bad roots” and “unfortunate circumstances” but despite the truth, Michael had always loved Janie.

Michael found himself surprisingly turned on by the sight of Janie sneaking softly down the stairs in his own, oversized, Guns N Roses t-shirt. Her body sauntered naturally in the way most women overworked for, gently swaying side to side with each step. Taking a sip of coffee, he watched her silently as she turned the corner unaware of his presence until he stepped out of the annex. Janie blushed in her childish way.

Over breakfast the awkwardness began to wash away. Janie and Michael sat across from each other filling in the last eighteen years together. Michael told her about his parents serving a long-term mission in Ethiopia where they were working to find adoptive families for orphans.

“I wish I could see my parents,” Janie said. “The witness protection program is majorly strict. They can’t have any contact with me. I’m not really supposed to know their location. That’s a major breach of security but my mother couldn’t stand for me to be completely in the dark. I don’t know there new names or occupations. It’s maddening really. It’s like my parents are dead, except for the fact I know they’re not.” Reaching for Michael’s hand she smiled. “Sometimes I play games in my head. I wonder how the government fabricated my family. Are they better off after all of this than they were before?”

“I played the same games thinking about you when you left,” Michael said. “My parents only acknowledged my questions about you one time. They hoped wherever you were that you were happy. I wanted you to be happy, but I was pissed that you didn’t tell me you were leaving. Now I understand why you couldn’t.”

“I always thought your parents didn’t like me,” Janie laughed.

“No,” Michael smiled. “They always liked you, but as Christian as our family was, they wanted me to be with someone else. You know the kind of girl that was going to Yale or Duke. The kind of girl who had ----”

“Potential,” Janie concluded. “What parents would want you with the kind of girl that wouldn’t be in high school if it wasn’t public or a legal requirement? I can’t really blame them,” Janie laughed. “I didn’t have much to my name then and now I really have nothing. The clothes on my back aren’t even mine.”

Michael put his arm around her. “My parents may have had a flawed theology, but it would’ve never been an issue if they hadn’t known I had the potential to fall in love with you. They knew if I kept hanging out with you, I’d fall for you and then there would be nothing they could do. But what they didn’t realize is that I loved you before they even had a clue. They thought when your family disappeared that it was over. I guess they thought they’d set me up with some medical or pre-law student and put me on the fast track, but it didn’t happen exactly that way.” Michael paused a minute. “They did set me up with a girl while I was at Florida State. She was studying Clinical Psychology and the daughter of my father’s boss at the bank. She wanted to be a Psychiatrist. She’s the one that talked me into studying Business though my heart was thoroughly into English Literature. I knew it was set up to fail from the beginning, but she was exactly what my parents dreamt of. She knew all the right people. She was beautiful and unimaginably wealthy, but she didn’t do it for me. We dated for about a year before I had to be honest with her. The day after graduation we said our goodbyes. I left for North Carolina and she stayed in Florida for graduate school.”

“You’re parents aren’t proud of you? They don’t care about what you’ve accomplished here?” Janie asked.

“Yeah they tell me they’re proud of me all the time, but at twenty-nine years old I’m sure they thought I would be somewhere close to settled down. I have a steady job, a nice house and car but that’s it. I mean, you are sitting here with me wearing my clothing and I’m bubbling over with desire for you. Janie, I never gave a damn that your family didn’t have as much as mine, all I cared about was you. You were the first friend I ever made in Kindergarten and you stayed by me all the way until the day you left.” Soaked in the pleasure of Janie’s eyes he pulled her into a slow kiss, not one of hunger but of pleasure that only strengthened over time.

Parting slowly, Michael smiled. “When you showed up last night and kissed me. I had an idea I wasn’t the only one who’s been mulling this over for the past eighteen years.”

The following days flowed blissfully slow. Michael took a vacation week from work to spend time exclusively with Janie. He was enjoying tangling up with Janie on the couch, eating take out and watching episodes of “The Big Bang Theory” on Netflix.

Rolling over he wrapped his arm around Janie’s shoulder and kissed her ear. “Good morning,” he laughed as she nudged her head into his shoulder sighing. Her eye lashes fluttered like butterflies on his biceps.

“It would be mighty easy to wake up next to you for the rest of my life,” Janie sighed entwining her fingers with Michael’s.

“Same here, sweetie,” Michael smiled. “It’s my last day of vacation, Janie, so I planned something special for us to do. Let’s get moving.”

Michael blind folded Janie to keep the surprise as they traveled through downtown Charlotte. When the car stopped, Michael slowly revealed their location. Slightly confused Janie examined the small shopping area. They were parked in front of a small blue building with a large sign stretched overhead reading in bold black letters “HEROESCON”.

Janie laughed. “Michael you brought me to a comic book convention! That’s awesome!”

“It’s the best one in Charlotte,” he said.

The inside of the store was packed wall to wall with comic books, graphic novels, posters and action figures. By the register younger kids ferociously dug through the dollar bins, proudly displaying their finds to their parents. The older adults crowded in the back around the silver comics like the original copies of Superman, Batman and Incredible Hulk.

Michael waved a comic at Janie. “Look at this,” he grinned. It was part one of the five part series “Sacrifice” featuring Superman and Brainiac.

“Superman,” Janie said. “This brings up classic memories.”

“Remember those times in the deer stand?” Michael asked.

“Of course,” Janie replied. “Do you still have those comics your grandfather gave you for your tenth birthday?”

“I have some of them.”

“What about number 23?”

Michael smiled. “I’ll never get rid of that one.” Michael remembered sitting in the abandoned deer stand with Janie, deep in the woods behind his house. It was the one place they could go together to be alone. Janie lay across the floor, as Michael pulled a shoebox from his backpack. Lifting the lid, he removed a golden bounty of comic books. Michael explained they were a gift from his grandfather, a fellow collector, for his tenth birthday. Some of them were quite valuable so he had to be careful with them. Gently removing the first book, Janie recognized it right away. It was a classic Superman, Action Comics #23, the first appearance of Lex Luthor. Janie couldn’t believe that it was an original from April 1940. Although Michael had over a hundred different comics, the Superman issues were his favorite. Regardless of his superpowers, Michael loved Superman the best because of his true identity, Clark Kent. His position as a humble, introverted news reporter created the perfect façade to protect his image as Superman. No one ever expects the little guy to be the hero at the end of the day. Michael sold most of the old comic books from his grandfather to afford his move to North Carolina, but he’d kept #23. He just couldn’t bring himself to sell it regardless of the offered price.

They spent the afternoon browsing older comics reminiscent of their childhoods in addition to meeting local comic artists and reading new works. As the convention was winding down for the evening it was time to head out for dinner.

Michael and Janie chatted idly traveling on North Tryon by the university. Suddenly Michael noticed waves of bluish-black smoke wafting out from under the hood of his BMW. For miles he’d ignored a suspicious burning odor in the car writing it off as another car or the atmosphere. Michael didn’t know much about cars, but he did know that dark smoke coming from the engine was a bad thing.

Pulling over to the shoulder and shutting the car off, the smoke continued to billow out of the hood. Michael slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “Damn, foreign cars,” he said. Storming out of the car, he tore open the hood, staring into the engine block as if he knew what to do. “We’ll have to call a tow truck,” Michael yelled to Janie. “We’re going to miss our dinner reservations.”

“That’s okay,” Janie said wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t worry about it.”

In the distance, Michael watched a black Honda with tented windows pull off the main road and onto the shoulder coming to a stop behind his car. Two burly men with sunglasses stepped out.

“Do you know anything about BMW’s? Michael called.

“Sure don’t,” the first man replied. “But I know something about you.”

“You don’t know me,” Michael said.

“I know more than you think,” the first man said. “You’re Michael James, and this,” he said pointing in Janie’s direction, “is Ms. Janie Whitfield.” The first man grabbed Michael’s wrists and held them behind his back with one hand laughing. “I must say you two have put up a good fight, but I’d keep your job at the bank, sir, because you don’t know anything about secret service.”

The second man held Janie his large arms wrapped around her in a sick seductive manner.

Michael eyed his assailant. Something about the man looked familiar. Then it clicked. Michael knew this man. It was Jimmy Harris from the third grade. The same Jimmy that gave him a swirly and Janie punched for it. Jimmy was adopted. He gave a report about it once. Michael forced the pieces together in his mind, pushing himself to remember where Jimmy was from. Oh, of course, Jimmy was from Russia.

As if Jimmy could read his mind, his eyes met Michael’s as he reached towards his pocket with his free hand. His fingers gripped a silver handle and began to slide a smooth Glock 34 from its hidden sheath, resting the barrel on Michael’s nose.

Michael instantly reverted to the small boy present in the bathroom. Jimmy grabbing handfuls of Michael’s shaggy blonde hair and shoving him face first into the toilet, flushing it three times. Michael held his breath as the cold water flowed against his head, accepting the punishment for being the meek and mild child he was. When Janie found him before class, she’d hugged him. It amazed him how a girl whose life appeared to be so empty, who was always swimming against life’s current, had so much to give all the way to the end.

With the cold barrel of the Glock pushed firmly against Michael’s temple, Jimmy gave a grunt of pleasure. “You’ve always been a lamb, always the sacrifice, but for what? What have you gained?” He questioned. “Is she really worth all of this? This is really quite unnecessary. Just give me the information I need, and we’ll be on our way, and as for the two of you, ya’ll can pretend this never happened.”

Michael laughed with calm composure. A seriousness shrouded Michael like a cloak as he grinned. “I can’t do that,” he said. “You see, Jimmy, I may be Clark Kent to you, but to her I’m Superman, and I’ll take that any day.”

“Ah,” Jimmy whispered. “It’s not about Janie, it’s about you, Michael or should I call you Superman? Even Janie has trouble deciding which name is most appropriate for you, but the problem is Superman should be able to protect her. So does that mean, you brought her to this point, Michael?”

Michael met Janie’s fearful eyes. Jimmy clicked the hammer back smoothly, without emotion. Michael closed his eyes, waiting. Suddenly when Janie’s assailant wasn’t paying attention she reared back slamming her head into his. As he staggered she retrieved his gun zoning in on Jimmy.

“Hold on now, Janie. If you shoot at me you run the risk of hitting your lovely Michael here.”

“Jimmy Harris,” Janie scoffed. “I punched you as a kid and I’ll damn well take you out now. You leave Michael alone. Leave me alone and leave my family alone.” Faking forward she distracted Jimmy long enough for Michael to duck out of his grasp. With Jimmy’s assistant on the ground, he was completely vulnerable. Janie closed in on Jimmy. “I don’t want to kill you,” she confessed “but I’m tired of running and hiding. I’m tired of wasting my life away because of you and your posse.”

“I’m not the only one, Janie,” Jimmy taunted. “I’m not the only one out to get you, Ms. Whitfield.”

“That’s okay,” Janie laughed. “Let them come. I’ve got Superman, the best superhero in the books on my side. You know faster than a speeding bullet? Nerd by day, action by night? “This has gone on too long, Jimmy. It’s time to settle the score.”