Jacob Has Issues

Tom just wanted to help, is that so bad? He couldn't just stand by while Jacob killed that poor kid with his smoking, right? Now he's being tortured by the thing he's trying to save, how is that fair?

Jacob Has Issues

    I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Tonight was going to be long, I was certain. I have a report I need to finish in AP History, but I can’t work on it because it’s “Family Night.”

“What a load of bull.”

I winced at my rude thoughts, maybe I did need to take a break from all that work, it really was beginning to stress me out. I felt a nudge from my left.

    “Hey Tom. What’s up?” I smiled at the friendly voice, knowing immediately it belonged to Beth, the only female and honorary family member currently in the house.

    “Just taking notes on proper human interaction in a familial environment, you?” She laughed at my joke. It’s been a running gag between us that I was not-so-secretly a robot sent here to evaluate humans so they could be properly terminated later. It’s a long joke that’s not really funny if you look at it too long, but whatever. Beth pushed a lock of Ronley Grade black hair behind her ear and looked over at my brothers, Ray and Jacob. She was probably thinking about how weird it was having him back again. Jacob hasn’t come back home since he officially kicked the heroin habit three years ago, but he’s suddenly started coming back every Sunday for the past month and no one’s really sure why. I mean, it’s not like we don’t know the part Aron, his new adopted “son,” plays in his choices, the kid loves it here so much that he’s been petting a ficus I barely knew we had for the past half-hour telling it how special it is and that it’s “inner beauty has yet to truly shine.” I love the little guy but jeez, is that really necessary?

    “Do you think Jay will be able to take good care of the kid?” Beth finally asked. I sighed.

    “I wanna say I have faith that he can, but he did try to kill at least four of his old friends when he was in high school, not to mention myself from time to time.” I could see Beth’s frown deepen from the corner of my eye.

    “If he would just buy a nice house and maybe get a girl to help him out things would probably be okay.” Beth insisted quietly. I didn’t respond. I’m not sure where this “Jacob needs a girl to help raise Aron” theory came from, but I’m not buying it. Jacob does an okay job with Aron, I’ll give him that, but having a girlfriend won’t help. It won’t get the kid into a better school, it won’t keep him from making the friends Jacob made, it won’t get him a better financial situation, and it sure as hell won’t change anything Jacob does now. Jacob doesn’t change his life, not for anyone. When we were kids and he was being a rebellious a*****e, he didn’t change because he was losing friends, burning bridges with Dad, or because he was literally killing himself. No, that was to much work. He got off the drugs, ran away into the sunset, and broke all contact for three years only to come back with a new addiction and a kid to kill with it. At first I didn’t mind the smoking, he was the only one suffering and it wasn’t as bad as the heroin so I let Ray deal with all that, but then I learned there was a kid involved and I made it my business. I wouldn’t stand by and let Jay kill the little guy with second hand smoke, and really how can you ever respect a parent who won’t even live to see you turn twenty!

    I let out a huff and Beth’s eyes flicked my way, but she said nothing. Finally I muttered: “I’m doing something about him.” Again, Beth kept quiet, really she’s so smart there’s no doubt she knows what I mean. I walked around Jacob, giving him a wide berth, and made my way to the other side of the room. Ray was acting so excited, probably telling Jay about his Blue Waters anime, and Jacob looked so bored I knew he was practically dead to the world, meaning I would have more than enough opportunity to grab the cigarettes. I made my casual walk past and slid my hand discreetly into his pocket. If he has any problem with this then he’s got only himself to blame, if he didn’t want me to pick-pocket him then he shouldn’t have taught me to pick-pocket people in general. Despite touching something wet and slimey, probably a piece paper he made Aron spit out, my mission was a success.

    I walked quietly towards the kitchen and stopped in its center. Now that I’ve got the cigarettes, what do I do with them? I looked around, trying to find a good hiding spot for my new treasure. I stopped at the Italian Chef cookie jar and considered it.

    “No way,” I thought. “If Jacob doesn’t find it, Grandpa will, and he will not be happy to find a pack of Marlboro in the cookie jar.” I bit my lip and tried to think of a better place, when I suddenly remembered The Drawer, The Drawer is a drawer that’s right underneath the cookie jar that we had discovered late last year. It was a really old, empty drawer and it‘s pretty obvious why. It was so small that nothing could really fit in it, not to mention the fact that it was practically invisible unless you actually sought it out. At first we thought it might have been for knives but then we tried to fit some in and were thoroughly stumped. That discovery had happened long after Jacob had left so he didn’t even know about it! My smile spread as I walked over. I put the cigarettes in the drawer, right in the middle, and fixed myself a glass of water. To avoid suspicion of course. I walked back out to the living room and stood by Beth again, though now she was sitting in a chair talking to Grandpa. I sipped from my glass and listened to the conversation, but it wasn’t long until I got bored and started looking around the room. My eyes landed on Jay, who was looking a little panicked, he must have noticed my theft. He was scanning the room with a hand in both pockets while Ray continued summing up some plot twists in season two of his show. I scowled at Jacob.

“What the hell man!” I thought. “Dinner is going to be ready soon and you want to step out for a smoke! Why not have Aron wash up or at least get the kid to quit petting the stinking plant!” I let out a huff and Jacob looked at me. He probably already knew what I did so I decided to cut the act and just shake my head at him. He wasn’t getting those cigarettes. He scowled too, and I knew that look, that was his I’m-onto-you-punk-head look.

    “Right back at ya, Cancer Breath.”

The Next Day

    I smiled at my girlfriend, Lizzie, and thought, for the seventh time since we started this date, how lucky I was. She was looking beautiful today, just like every other day, but today especially. The bright sun illuminated her golden hair, her green eyes sparkled every time she laughed or smiled, and she looked amazing in the new green and pink floral sundress I had gotten her for her birthday last week. Yes, she was a gift, and she was mine. She laughed again.

    “Tommy! Are you even listening to me!” I blinked in shock.

    “Huh?” Her words sank in and I tensed. “Oh God, sorry Liz! I was just-!”

    “Staring at me longingly and wondering how you ever managed to get a catch like me, I know.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “It even puzzles me from time to time.” She continued with mock vanity. I smiled.

    “A lot of things puzzle you Liz.” She pouted.

    “Shut up.” We sat in silence for a second before bursting into laughter. Man, do I love her. She smiled and started again. “Babe, could you get the trash while I text my parents and ask them about staying over this weekend?” I mirrored her grin.

    “Yeah, sure!” I grabbed the trash and started for the nearby garbage can. I had just tossed the stuff when someone grabbed my wrists, bound them behind my back, and put a bag over my head! I was scared all of four seconds before I realized who my attacker had to be and sighed, making the paper of the bag crinkle.

    “Jacob, this is sad. Borderline pathetic.” I informed. My suspicions were proved correct when I heard him shout:

    “Shut up and get in my car!” He sounded way too happy about this. I rolled my eyes under the paper as Jay turned me around.

    “Later Lizzie, thanks for the date, it was amazing.” It was around this time that I realized Lizzie must have seen Jay coming up behind me and said nothing, that traiter!I didn’t get a chance to accuse her of her treachery, however, because Jacob was now dragging me off to his cruddy car and just like that, we’re off to his house.

    Calling Jacob’s place a “house” might be an insult to houses everywhere. It was a crappy little apartment inside a four story brick building that I’ve considered reporting to someone multiple times, it looked like it might fall in on it’s residents any day now, the only thing that’s ever stopped me is that fact I have no idea who you report crap buildings to. The stupid thing was practically wedged between some pawn shop and another old apartment building, though that one was condemned like it should be. The only thing separating the “new” apartments and the old ones was a little alleyway that you could only ride a bike through if your feet were up on the handle bars. And this is only the surrounding buildings! The rest of the neighborhood was either rundown, housing ex-cons, housing soon-to-be-cons, or some combination of the three. Thinking about raising a kid around here made me shudder.

I felt the car pull to a stop and was suddenly yanked from the backseat. I was half led-half dragged into the building and wondered what the people who live here must be thinking as they watch Jacob haul a high schooler with a paper bag over his head … Where ever he was hauling me. I heard a door open and nearly fell down a flight of stairs. Jacob took a second to steady me (who says he never does anything nice?) and we continued on our way. The air in the stairwell was colder than the lobby, it smelled a bit like mildew and a lot like laundry detergent, though once I reached the bottom of the steps a sour stench made it’s way through the bag as well.

“Is that the cat or the litter I’m smelling?” I asked, it was strange not being able to tell the difference.

“Yep.” Jacob declared, he popped the P, just to be annoying I’m sure. Jacob shoved me into a chair, tied my new bracelets to something, probably a table, and ripped the bag off my head.

“Where are they!” He shouted fiercely. He was probably going for an Intimidating Captor sort of vibe, but instead all I got was some sort of I Just Might Be Literally Insane type of deal. I frowned and tried to reason with him.

“Jacob, come on, this is seriously sad. It’s been one day and, instead of looking for the cigarettes yourself, you’ve kidnapped me. Jacob you kidnapped me. This is illegal.” I’m not sure why I tried, Jacob has never been one to be talked out of something, and judging from the glare I was getting, that fact hasn’t changed within the last twenty-four hours.

“Hey, you let me grab you and don’t dodge the question Tom. Things will only get worse.” I cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. It’s not like he was gonna hurt me. Jacob might be crazy but he knows how to keep things technically legal.

“It’ll get worse?” I parroted. “What are you going to do? Give me a Wet Willy?”

“Don’t tempt me.” He growled. I laughed and rolled my eyes at him, really he goes through all the trouble of kidnapping me, dragging me down to a laundry room (if the ring of washers and dryers and the smell of laundry detergent were any indication. Wait, is somebody humming the “Can-Can” song?), and tying me to a table just so he could give me a Wet Willy. Ha! And he calls Ray a child.

    “You’re ridiculous.” I informed. I tested the strength of the handcuffs Jay had put me in and was surprised to find that, even though they were some kind of cheap plastic, they held well. “And where did you get these? They’re stupid strong.” Jacob’s mouth turned into an eager grin. His eyes lit up with pride.

    “I know right? Aron just came home with them one day and told me he’d broken it. Next thing I know I’ve been attached to the couch for thirty minutes while he practiced his lock-picking skills.” The smile turned sweet and wistful. “That was the day the apartment almost burned down.” I blinked and then quickly grimaced. The scary thing wasn’t just the story, but the fact that I couldn’t tell if I was horrified, interested, or just confused.

    “Who let you be a father?” I asked sincerely. “ Really, how did you convince those people to let you be in charge of a human child.” Jacob’s smile vanished quickly as he tried to think of a good reason. It’s like the freak was thinking over his choices for what to bring to the neighborhood potluck! Weighing all of his options and trying to decide which one was best.

    “All the alien kids were taken I guess.” He finally decided. His smile returned, though now it was just sick and demented. “But you’re avoiding the question again.” He splayed his hands across the table and leaned into my personal space, a day might have gone by but I could still smell those disgusting cigarettes on his breath. His voice was a low growl. “Where. Is my. Marlboro.” Despite all of the scary, intimidating things he was doing, getting into my space, taking me somewhere I didn’t personally know, tying me up, and just generally acting like the big, scary guy he was, it was having no effect. He really thinks that I’m just gonna spill the beans and tell him where I put the cigarettes? He tormented me for years and he thinks this will work? He’s done worse at Christmas Dinner! I didn’t bother to react to Jay’s antics, Aron needs those damn things gone and I’m going to help. Jacob stood up tall again and pointed a finger at me accusingly.

    “Lookie ‘ere Tom, this is your last warning. One more time and I get-” He leaned in again, washing my face with the horrible tobacco stench. “-the weapon.”

    I didn’t so much as blink.

    Jacob let loose the Devil’s chuckle. “Alright Tommy Boy. I warned ya!” He turned towards the wall. “Aron! Hey Buddy!” I followed his gaze and finally noticed Aron, who apparently had been sitting quietly on top of a dryer in the corner. He turned towards the sound of his “dad’s” voice.

    “Yes, Daddy?” Jacob got a dreamy smile. He always got so soft whenever Aron was involved. Most people would think that fact should have made us go a bit easier on him, since it showed how much he really cared about the kid, but in reality it just pissed the family off more. To us, Jay going all soft on Aron proved that he could be nice and well mannered, he just didn’t want to. I mean really, what kind of person could go between those two extremes, sweet to scary, and still be capable of bring up a child in a safe environment? I was pulled from my mental rantings by Aron suddenly being perched on his father’s hip.

    “You wanna show Uncle Tommy your ‘Happy Song,’ Pumpkin?” Aron gasped in amazement and Jacob smiled down at his sweet face.

“Really?” The smile disappeared, now replaced with a small, suspicious frown. “I thought you said we could put a long pause on the ‘Happy Song.’” I started to get worried about what this “Happy Song” was. What could be so bad about it that Jacob said he needed to “put a long pause” on it? Jacob gave another chuckle and said:

“Does that mean you don’t wanna sing it?” Aron’s eyes went wide in horror and he immediately shouted, “No!” Jacob sat Aron in the chair in front of me (which I hadn’t noticed), and then walked over to the door in front of me (which I also hadn’t noticed), putting something into his ears. I gave him my best what are you doing look, but didn’t bother to wait for a response I’d never receive and turned to Aron

“So, Aron.” I hummed kindly, trying to keep my mock enthusiasm believable. “What’s your ‘Happy Song?’” Aron straightened his back with pride.

“My Happy Song is ‘John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt’ by some random guy from a really long time ago… Okay here we go!” Aron took a deep breath and began to sing.

           “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt,

His name is my name too!” I cringed as Aron tried to hold the note.

“Whenever we go out,

The people always shout,

‘there goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!’

DA DA DA DA DA DA DA!” I jumped in shock as Aron squeezed his eyes shut and began to slam his tiny fists on the table so hard the cruddy thing shook with each pound, shrieking what I could only assume was his favorite part of the song. Like I said, I was surprised, but this hardly seemed like an effective mode of torture. I was so confused I looked over at Jacob again, checking to see if he was disinfecting a tray of scalpels while I was distracted. He was doing no such thing and instead smiled and held up a finger, he’s asking me to be patient? In my own torture session? That seems oddly rude…

“LOUDER NOW!” Aron shrieked. I cringed again at the pitch Aron managed to hit. He’d make a great boy soprano. I should take him to a church someday and have him try out.

“JOHN JACOB JINGLEHEIMER SCHMIDT,

HIS NAME IS MY NAME TOO!” I was startled again by Aron hopping up on the table and beginning to march to the beat.

“WHENEVER WE GO OUT,

THE PEOPLE ALWAYS SHOUT,” He jumped in place and pointed at some random thing behind me, his eyes were squeezed tight as he put all his energy into screaming the next verse.

“‘THERE GOES JOHN JACOB JINGLEHEIMER SCHMIDT!’

DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA!” Another grimace as the young boy threw his head back and screeched the last few verses into the sky. I gave Jacob a somewhat pleading look, but he just shrugged in response. I took a deep breath and tried to keep my expression neutral. If this was my torture then I couldn’t let Jay win, I had to stay strong. Aron got down on his hands and knees then started the next verse, though now he was whispering. He inched a bit closer to my face after each line

“John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt,

His name is my name too.

Whenever we go out,

The people always shout... ” Aron was right in my face now, our noses touching. I cringed at the disturbing face he was making and began to wonder just how mentally sound Aron really was. I couldn’t see too much of his expression, just his wide, bright eyes that were a confusing mix of blank and intelligent, but that was enough for me to be uncomfortable. It took me a second to realize he had stopped singing and I cringed even more. This was him building suspense. This was him keeping me on the edge of my seat with anxiety. I had a good feeling that I knew what he was going to do next. The silence felt like it stretched on for an eternity.

…

…

…

“‘THERE GOES JOHN JACOB JINGLEHEIMER SCHMIDT!’

DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA” I jumped and, somehow, cringed even more at the sudden burst of noise. I felt like my ears were bleeding, how can a kid’s voice get so loud! How has nobody heard what’s happening! Doesn’t anyone do laundry around here, it’s the weekend for God’s sake! A quick glance at Jacob said that even he had heard his son, and I now knew for a fact that he had earplugs in. This feels like it’s bordering on inhumane! But I couldn’t give in. I had a job to do and that job was to keep my nephew from getting cancer and dying, now if the kid would just lay off the high notes for a little bit, I mean, I’m really starting to question whether or not he’s my nephew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few hours were hell. I have no clue how many hours it was, but I know it had to be more than four. It just had to be. Maybe even a day went by… No, no way, Aron’s been singing non-stop and even he couldn’t sing continuously for a whole day and not stop for air. The poor baby’s face was bright red now. But this is all an afterthought, a bit of a sneak peek at what I was thinking the day after this had all happened. At the time, the only thing I was thinking was:

Good God this needs to be over.

I couldn’t take it anymore, I was near tears. I turned my head towards the father of the boy dancing on the table and tried again to reason with him. Remembering, now, his ability to read lips.

“Please, Jacob.” I nearly sobbed. “I know you can read lips and I know that you’re loving this, but it’s gone on so long! Not even you can be that cruel!” All that monster did was smile and put a hand to his ear.

“What?” He shouted at me. “Man, I can’t hear a word you’re saying! These earplugs are amazing!” I let out a long whine and slammed my head against the table, trying my best to knock myself out. Aron continued to dance and sing by my temple, I think the kid had tuned the whole world out so he could focus solely on the ever important job of singing his “Happy Song.” I choked a little on the scream that threatened to split the air as Aron started from the top. I couldn’t do this, I’m dying. I raised my head and broke.

“Fine!” I cried out. “Fine you win! They’re in the drawer! Right underneath the cookie jar at Dad’s house, it’s a really small drawer we found last year, nearly invisible unless you’re really looking for it, but once you find it you can’t miss ‘em! Now please make him stop!” Jacob laughed at my shame. I now knew, with absolute certainty, that he was Satan’s right hand. He smirked in victory and turned his attention to Aron.

“Aron! Hey Buddy, let’s go on a car ride.” He gently hummed, like he was talking about some cute puppies he saw outside of Walmart and not finally having the mercy to end the nightmare he had placed upon his young brother. He took out his earplugs and Aron stopped singing immediately, he didn’t even seem to mind that Jay had interrupted his song. A sharp smile was suddenly sliced onto his features and he tossed his hands into the air, like he was surrendering. Man, I sound really bitter towards this kid now.

I was so distracted by my own thoughts that I completely missed the conversation that the father-son-duo had and I didn’t even realize that Jacob and Aron were walking away until they were starting to shut the door. My heart spasmed.

“Hey wait, Jacob you can’t leave me here! Jacob I’m still chained to the-Jacob this is illegal!” The door was shut before I could finish the last word. I stared at it for a second, thinking that this was just some weird prank, a final "Don’t steal my s**t, Punk" from Jacob, but the door didn’t re-open. I blinked a few times in disbelief.

I had only one thought left now. After that whole ordeal, I was only left with this.

“I am so not getting that report done for history class.”

The End

Author's Note

So here's Tom's side of "I Might Have Issues." Be sure to tell me how I did!!!