The Ultimate Meal

Jasper and his son J.J. share a meal right before Jasper's departure.

The Ultimate Meal

When we move, the people we have befriended are sad to see us go.  Yet, for those who receive us on arrival; it is perceived as an occasion most joyful.   How ironic that some must experience pain that others may find such glee.   Each time I ponder this irony, I am reminded of Jasper Wheeler, father of Jasper, Jr., lovingly known as J.J.   

In September 2000, on a night most rainy, Jasper Wheeler waited with anticipation.  Having placed his order long before; he  waited with eager expectancy.  Today would be his last day living here.  He’d even received the call.  All was ready, thus his departure was sure.  Before his flight, he had arranged for a special visitor to join him for dinner.  His son, J.J.

Walking in, J.J. looked around.  Sighting his father at the table, he smiled weakly.  Running toward him, he embraced him warmly.  “Hey Dad!”

“My baby boy,” Jasper cried, returning his embrace.  “How are you?”

“Not so good, Dad.  I’m worried.”  

“Have a seat son, I’ve already ordered.”

“What are we having?”

“Steaks, broccoli, mashed potatoes, and garden salads.  Blue cheese dressing for you, and ranch for me.”

“Drinks?”

Looking at each other, they exclaimed it in unison.  “Lemonade and iced tea.  Half and half!”

“Jasper,” Mr. Freeman called, serving the two of them.  “Here you go.  Bon appetit!”

“Thanks Mr. Freeman, this is my son, J.J.”

Smiling, Mr. Freeman shook his hand.  “Hi JJ I've heard so much about you!  Your father speaks very highly of you.  I know you’re gonna make him proud.  Let us know when you’re ready for dessert.”

“Will do Mr. Freeman!”

“What did you order for dessert?”
“Apple pie of course.”

“Dad, you know I don’t like apple,” J.J. said with a chuckle.

“Well, you asked me what I ordered,” Jasper retorted with a smile.  “For you, cherry pie.”

“That’s my favorite!”

“That’s why I ordered it. I know my baby boy.”

Continuing the leisurely, delicious meal that had become so foreign to Jasper, this reunion was all he needed and more as he prepared for the journey west. Thinking of all the good times they’d shared brought tears to J.J.’s eyes.  His first steps.  His first teeth.  Their first carnival.  

“Dad, remember my wedding?”

“How could I forget, Isabella is the best thing that happened to this family.”

Smiling, J.J. recalled with fondness, “She’s added so much to my life.  And I don’t just mean her generous monetary gift.” 

“How’s my grandbabies?”

“Rowan and Elanor are great.  They started daycare last week.”

Hit by the sudden urge, J.J. looked at the clock on the wall.  It read 7:30.  

“Dad, look at the time.”

“Mr. Freeman, could we get those pies now?”

“Sure, coming right up.”  Handing them their respective slices, he moved hurriedly back to the kitchen.  More meals to prepare.

Looking down at his pie slice, J.J. began to weep.  Seeing this, Jasper followed suit.  

“Dad, are you sure you wanna do this?”

“I have to.”

“But Dad,” wailed J.J., tears streaming down his face.  A profuse storm of sorrow.  “What am I supposed to do with you that far away?”

“You act like this is the last time we’ll see each other.”

8:00 read the clock on the wall.

“J.J. I’ll see you baby boy.  My train has arrived,” said Jasper, pointing at the group of people walking toward him.

“J.J. you’ll have to go now,” said Warden Allbritton.  “It’s time.”

Standing up, Jasper took his place between the warden and the prison guards.  “Mr. Wheeler, Prisoner Number 6754178, the time has come for your execution.  You are being executed this day by the State of Mississippi for the murder of Isabella Wheeler.”

Crying, J.J. knew the truth.  One he was irreversibly stuck living with.  He’d been the one who orchestrated Isabella’s murder.  The $500,000 payout was just what he needed to start his business.  And his father.  The drug addict who had abused him and abandoned him.  Saw him on the news, charged with Isabella’s murder.  Confessed, saving him.  Sacrificing his own life.

Looking at his son, Jasper performed his final act of love.  “I love you son.  Don’t cry for me, we’ll meet again in Heaven.  Tell my grandkids I love them.”

“I love you Dad!”

“Love you more baby boy!”

Glancing at the two, Warden Allbritton swallowed to flush the tears welling in his eyes.  “Dead man walking!”

Author's Note

Would you please let me know how the build up is? I am seeking to create natural and authentic dialogue.

Reviews

[Farah]

Wow 🤩! All I can say is wow! I love how you made the reader think he was moving somewhere and left clues that he was about to be executed. You held my attention through this entire piece. Only one suggestion. Maybe the father should mention his first steps and first teeth. He who would have been a child will not remember that.