Chapter 6  The Second Letter

Omar awakes with a jolt as his head snaps forward, sending his hair flying in all directions.

“Motherfucker!” Jasper barks. “When are our tax dollars gonna fix these damn potholes and not our politician’s pockets?” He looks in the rearview mirror with disgust like the pothole just insulted his mother. He then turns to Omar, with a half-smile.

“Back there, I just thought that Amish fuck couldn’t drive!… turns out, these people can’t pave!”

Omar sits up, stretching his neck from side to side, attempting to regain his bearings. Outside the car, streetlights shine their spotlight into the car, making Jasper go from light to dark as they drive by. In the flashes of light, Omar can see the soft grainy cloth of a mid-2000s sedan, and his face puzzles as he realizes he’s somewhere new.

Hanging below the dashboard, a green pine tree air freshener still vibrates from the last pothole, and Omar can feel its piney chemical smell bite his nose.

Beside him, Jasper sits in the driver’s seat, navigating through the dark Indiana night watching streetlights and stoplights stretch on for miles like stars in the sky.

“Where are we?” Omar asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You’re about to find out,” Jasper says with a bit of mischief. “After today, it’s time we had some fun.”

Omar grabs his stomach and hopes “fun” means dinner.

The Nissan pulls into a cratered parking lot and rolls to a stop. Omar looks out the window; a small brick building looms displaying all the hallmarks of a classic dive bar. Shattered beer bottles lay on the ground, a faded brick exterior that never knew a paint job, and there were enough cigarette butts scattered about to build a moat of tar.

Hanging in a window was a neon red sign that was meant to read “Lucky’s” but was now displaying “Uckys,” which was about the right word to properly describe this place. It was an ucky-looking place that gave Omar an ucky feeling inside.

“Dad… what are we doing here? We don’t have time for this; we’re already behind schedule.” Omar protests.

“Sure we do!” Jasper says while drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“The road code says we need to celebrate the journey.”

“Dad, stop with this road code sh—”

“And we can at least buy the band a beer. They did give us a ride.”

Omar notices The Charmer’s van and rolls his eyes.

“And made us suspects.”

“Ahh, we didn’t do shit! We’re fine.” Says Jasper.

“But… our schedule.”

“Don’t worry. We’re only 30-some odd hours away. We can drink coffee and drive straight into oblivion if we have to.” Jasper reassures Omar with a half-smile. “You worry too much.” Omar exhales.

And indeed, Omar did worry too much about everything. He had always been that way. As a child, he was convinced that Bloody Mary was out to get him, leading to many uncomfortable, bladder-bursting nights. She lived in the bathroom mirror, after all.

And as Omar grew older, his worry grew like a weed on the side of the road, casting its dark shadow for all to see. In its shadow, Omar would hide out alone in the prison he built for himself, preferring the safety of home to the danger of the world.

Until one day, by complete chance, a beautiful woman showed up at his door. She had brown hair and emerald-green eyes, and when their eyes met, electricity raced through both their bodies, like Cupid’s arrow shooting a power line. An ancient knowing that you met the one gripped them both. Amazon delivered more than a package that day, and he was thankful for everything, even those Amazon trucks that always park in the wrong spot.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” Jasper hops out of the car.

“Oh… and Omar – toss me my coke.”

Omar’s face puzzles.

“Why? We’re about to go inside.”

“I’m pregaming.”  Says Jasper with just enough enthusiasm to make Omar hate himself.

Omar rolls his eyes and hands him the coke.

Jasper chugs it, rips the tab off, and crunches it into the ground.

“Do you really have to do that?” says Omar.

“Hell yeah! It’s a tradition.”

“Your tradition,” says Omar as he walks past his father. Jasper frowns.

They enter the bar and were immediately struck by the powerful sound of Gentry’s voice coming from behind the drums. They simultaneously did a double-take, like they just ran into a classmate they hadn’t seen in decades. His voice was deep and sultry like you’d find on an R&B CD which for a leprechaun-looking man, the voice didn’t match his appearance… It was too deep.

“Damn.” They said at the same time and smiled.

The bar was packed, filled with wooden stools, tacky posters of scantily clad women on Harleys, and enough bearded men to excite any barber and his scissors. They made their way to the bar, passing eyeballs that all had the same question, “What in the Hell are two black men doing here?”

“Two Millers,” Jasper says to the bartender with a smile, “And two shots of Jameson.” He winks.

“You too ain’t from around here, is you?” says the bartender.

She places the shot glasses in front of Jasper.

“What makes you say that?” Says Jasper, fighting off that unwelcome feeling of being an outsider he had come to know and tolerate.

“Your cute face,” she says with a wink.

Jasper smiles and relaxes. Omar glances at the shots and frowns.

“Dad, I can’t…”

The bartender pours the shots and drops off the beers.

“You can,” says Jasper while sliding the shot directly in front of Omar.

Omar hesitates, “Shouldn’t you not be drinking?”

“What’s the worst that can happen? I die?” Jasper chuckles, taking a swig of his beer. Omar frowns.

Jasper calls out to the bartender.

“And please, give him another one.” He nods towards Omar. “He’s had a day… a week’s worth.”

Omar raises his eyebrows.

“Fuck it.” Omar reluctantly takes the shot, unsure of how to react after the day’s events: That damn middle finger, the accident, an accusation of theft, hitchhiking, and processing his father’s impending death. Maybe he deserved a fuckin’ shot. Maybe he deserved two.

Omar turns to Jasper. “I just have to know – why didn’t you tell me earlier? About the cancer and all.”

Jasper purses his lips and rocks his stool from side to side, searching for how to respond. “Honestly, it’s because of what you had going on with Monica. I knew you were stressed and didn’t want to add any more to your plate.”

Omar twirls his beer, hoping it would somehow wash away the guilt he felt that his own problems had kept his father from sharing his own.

“You could have told me.” He offers.

“I’d rather do it this way. It’s what I wanted.”

“You wanted a 40-hour drive across the country? Are you mad?” Says Omar.

“Dead crazy.”

Omar shakes his head.

“So tell me, what is it you really plan on doing out west?” asks Jasper.

Omar sighs. “I don’t know – it’s just this job I found.”

“You just found it?”

“Yep.”

Omar nods and raises his eyebrows as if to say, “Yeah, dumbass.”

Jasper rubs his chin, “is it something you actually want to do?”

“Eh.”

Omar swallows his frown, and Jasper turns away.

“Just follow your energy… That’s how you’ll find your treasure. Life’s too short to work a job that doesn’t light you up.” Says Jasper. “Trust me.”

Omar absently takes another sip.

On stage, The Charmers begin their next song, and Omar couldn’t help but notice a group of rough-looking bikers near the stage turning away, unimpressed. Jasper reaches into his briefcase, pulls out a letter, and slides it across the counter with a swish.

“Maybe this will give you some perspective on your new job,” Jasper suggests.

Omar knocks back one more shot, opens the letter beneath the neon red “uckys” sign, and begins to read.

Omar,

There are so many things I want to tell you.

About life, about love, and most importantly, what you mean to me, but I hope my actions will speak louder than words because as we both know, there weren’t many.

For many years I was lost and wasn’t able to bring my full self into the world. I was stuck looking for my passion and purpose when really my purpose should have been being a better father. That’s something I should have been passionate about.

And I’ve come to learn searching for your passion is like searching for Bigfoot: there’s a lot of blurry evidence and wild speculation, but in the end, you just end up lost in the woods with shit on your boots. And I’m sorry for that. I was selfish when you were growing up.

But that’s why I want you to follow your energy, so you don’t get lost like I did. When you follow your energy, you get more life in your years.

Never forget that greatness requires sacrifice. And if you like what you’re doing, if you’re energized by what you’re doing, you can stay in the ring longer… so to speak.

I guess this is my way of telling you the things I wish I knew earlier. Now back to your treasure. Well – every good story has a hero, and the quality that best describes heroes is one word, bravery. And the next key to collect when finding your treasure is understanding bravery.

When I was young, I used to think it was only obtained in battle. I thought of knights swinging swords. I thought of Ninjas and their nunchucks. And I cursed myself for not being born in a time when that was even an option. The only people who have swords and nun chucks now are the people you don’t want to have over for a barbeque.

But as I got older- I learned the truth. Bravery extends to every facet of life. You’re brave when you do what scares you. You’re brave when you stick up for yourself. You’re brave when you ask the cute girl on a date. You’re brave when you raise your hand. You’re brave when you stick up for your friends. You’re brave when you dare to be yourself in a world that dares to mold you.

So my challenge to you is to be brave. Push past your comfort zone and be brave enough to live the life you want to live. Be authentic. After all, following your energy requires you to keep it real.

And know this.

You already are.

I love you my son.

• Jasper

Omar pulls the letter down from his face only to see another double shot waiting for him. He knocks it back, hoping the sharp whiskey taste would sterilize his emotions.

“Damn Dad, this is heavy.” Omar winces.

“I’m sorry for how I was when you were growing up; I didn’t know who I was. That’s not an excuse; that’s just my truth.”

Jasper takes another shot. In the background, one of the bikers points at Gentry and starts laughing. Another one flicks a quarter on stage. Jasper and Omar turn their heads.

“The fuck is that about?” Omar asks, still staring at the bikers.

“Just The Charmers being charming, I guess,” Jasper says with a half-smile.

“That didn’t look too charming.”

The bartender walks by Jasper and Omar and makes quick eye contact with them both. Jasper watches Omar cross his arms.

“So, tell me about Monica, why’d you break up? I thought she was the one.” Jasper asks, genuinely curious about Omar’s life.

Omar slowly brings the glass to his lips, eyes shifting from side to side. And silently, he wonders how two people can go from being excited and ripping each other’s clothes off, to being complete strangers as if the past didn’t mean anything.

Omar hesitates for a moment longer, then shrugs. “She was great, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that relationships are a doomed fantasy to begin with. When you meet someone, everything is new, everything is exciting. It’s the prospect of the unknown that makes you want to want to walk the relationship path. It makes you want to spend every beating moment with your partner. But after you walk the path, and after each moment is spent, what’s new becomes familiar, and what’s familiar becomes old. And when things are old, the excitement dies. It’s a fucked up cycle.”

Omar pulls another sip of his beer. Jasper follows his lead.

“Well,” Jasper says, his eyes twinkling, “You’re going to be surprised when you meet the right one because the right one will break the cycle. Just be brave enough to love again. I wish I would have when your mother died.”

Jasper finishes a shot and frowns.

Omar calls out to the bartender, “We’re going to need a few more.”

 

Please like, comment, share and tell me what you think! This is a chapter of my book I’m sharing for feedback.  For context, this is a story about a father, Jasper, and his son, Omar, repairing their relationship. Jasper reveals to Omar that he has terminal cancer while on a road trip, and the story is about them repairing their relationship.