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“What’s going on?” asked Rachel before she
saw Stephen’s avatar get mauled by a dog.

“Who let the dogs out?” asked Jacker as he
set his controller down on the coffee table.

“Oh wow,” said Rachel. “I didn’t even know
this game had dogs in it. I’ve never seen you do anything like
that.” She coyly leered up at her husband.

He grimaced, but tried not to let Rachel’s
goading annoy him. He pointed at Jacker and said, “That’s bullshit.
You were camping.”

“Call it what you will, my friend,” said
Jacker. “I call it winning.”

“I want a rematch.” Stephen pointed at
Jacker’s controller on the table.

“No!” Rachel swiped the game controller off
the table and snatched the battery pack off the back of it. “Game
over. I don’t want to sit here all night watching you two play
video games.”

“Then what do you want to do?” asked
Stephen. His tone started off like a petulant teen, but then
changed as he decided not to pick a fight with her.

“I don’t know.” She pulled her feet up onto
the couch, under her butt, as if nestling in for a long chat with a
girlfriend. “Let’s just talk.”

Jacker and Stephen both groaned
simultaneously.

“What?” asked Rachel, amused by their dour
faces. “What’s wrong with talking? I’d like to get to know the guy
that’s going to be driving us around for the next few days.”

“I’m getting a beer,” said Stephen with a
defeated groan. “Who else needs one?”

Jacker raised his hand and then Rachel asked
for one as well.

“So, Jacker, how’d you get that name?”

The big guy snickered and ran his hands
through his shaggy, curly head of hair. “That’s a complicated
story. The short version is that I’m a computer nerd. Have been
ever since I was a kid.”

“Did you grow up with Paul and Alma?”

“No. I met Paul just this year, at the
tattoo place near his apartment.”

“What was it that made you two start hanging
out?” Rachel’s questions came quicker than Jacker seemed prepared
for.

“I don’t know. He’s a nice guy. We just sort
of started hanging out a lot.”

“Okay,” said Rachel. “Do you ride a
motorcycle like he does?”

“No.”

“Do you get a lot of tattoos?”

“Jesus,” said Stephen from the kitchen.
“Give the guy a break, Rachel.”

“What?” she asked as if defending herself.
“I’m just trying to get to know him.”

“No you’re not,” said Stephen as he brought
Jacker a beer. “You’re going into reporter mode. Stop it.”

“It’s okay,” said Jacker. “I’m sure it’s
weird to have some stranger staying at your place right before
hauling you through a couple states. I don’t mind answering a few
questions.”

“See.” Rachel was quick to stick her tongue
out at her husband. “So, do you have a bunch of tattoos hidden
under that shirt?”

Jacker was wearing a long sleeve, black
shirt with a band name that Rachel didn’t recognize. He pulled the
sleeves up to reveal bare arms. “Nope. I never got a tattoo.”

Rachel was surprised and furrowed her brow.
“Then how did you meet Paul at a tattoo place?”

“My friends hang out there,” said Jacker
quickly.

Rachel adjusted her position as Stephen sat
down beside her. He handed her a bottle of beer and then the glass
that she’d left on the kitchen table from earlier. She started to
pour the beer, but then Stephen took it away from her claiming that
she wasn’t doing it right. She ignored his tutorial on properly
pouring the beer and continued talking with Jacker.

“So what about Paul and Alma?”

“What about them?” asked Jacker.

“Alma told me how they’ve been an
on-again-off-again couple ever since high school. What do you think
of their relationship? Is it healthy?”

“Good Lord,” said Stephen. “Did you really
make us stop playing Call of Duty to talk about relationship
crap?”

“Yes.” Rachel slapped Stephen’s knee. “Now
shut up and let us talk.”

“Today was the first time I met Alma,” said
Jacker.

“Oh really?” asked Rachel.

“Paul talks about her a lot, but they’ve
been broken up ever since I’ve known him. He’s been working up the
courage to ask her out again.”

“No kidding? So he’s been pining for her all
this time? That’s sweet.”

“Sweet or super creepy,” said Stephen, which
earned another slap on the knee from his wife.

“It’s romantic, not that you’d know anything
about that, asshole.”

Stephen groaned and shook his head. “Please.
I’m a fucking Casanova. All my girlfriends say so.”

“Ha, ha,” said Rachel blandly. “Very funny,
jerk.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever met
someone more in love with another person in my whole life,” said
Jacker. “Paul was a mess when I met him. I kept trying to convince
him to forget about her and move on, but he was determined to win
Alma back. I figured he’d get over it after a few weeks, but he
didn’t. I’m happy that everything worked out like it did. He
deserves a chance to show her how much he loves her.” Jacker spoke
as if lamenting an old, lost friend. There was a distant sadness in
his words.

Rachel scooted over to the side of the couch
to be closer to the loveseat that Jacker was sitting on. She put
her left hand on his arm and then clasped his hand with her right.
“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Jacker
unconvincingly.

“Thinking of your girlfriend?”

Jacker shrugged and didn’t look at her. “I
guess.”

“It’s okay to be sad,” said Rachel. “I can’t
imagine how tough this week has been for you.”

“It’s been shitty.” Jacker continued to
avoid eye contact and he tightened his grip on her hand.

“Here, honey,” said Rachel as she got a box
of tissues off the coffee table and handed it to the big guy.

“Oh crap,” said Stephen. “Hey, Barbara
Walters, stop making our guests cry.”

“Shut up, Stephen.” She gave him a
dismissive wave.

Jacker chuckled as he took the tissues and
wiped his eyes. “He’s right. You’re pulling some sort of
chick-flick voodoo on me. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was
start thinking about Debbie.” He laughed uncomfortably as he wiped
his eyes.

“Give the guy a break, Rachel,” said
Stephen.

“Okay,” said Rachel. She moved back down the
couch, away from Jacker, and back into Stephen’s arms.

“I need a shot,” said Jacker. “Do you guys
have any hard liquor in here?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Manipulations

March 11th, 2012

It was past midnight when Paul and Alma got
back to Rachel’s apartment. Jacker was smoking a cigarette on the
front steps when they pulled up. He waved at them and Paul stopped
Alma from approaching once he turned off the bike.

“Do me a favor, babe,” said Paul. “Just head
on inside. Let me talk to him.”

“Why?” asked Alma. “What’s the matter?”

Paul didn’t want to say. “Just trust me on
this one.”

Alma set her helmet on the back of Paul’s
bike and then walked towards the apartment. She waved at Jacker as
she passed before Paul sat down beside his friend.

“They went to bed,” said Jacker. “Door’s
unlocked.”

“Okay,” said Alma. “See you guys inside in a
bit.” She was hesitant to close the door, as if afraid to leave
Paul alone with the big man.

Once the door closed, Paul got out a
cigarette and lit it. The two of them sat on the steps in the
chilly night air and smoked in silence.

Jacker finished his cigarette first and
flicked it out into the street. “I almost lost it, man.”

“I know,” said Paul. “I could see it on your
face when I got here. What happened?”

Jacker looked back at the apartment to make
sure the window wasn’t open. “Rachel was asking about Debbie, and
it just brought it all back, man. She didn’t mean anything by it.
She’s just one of those people that ask too many questions.”

“That’s her job,” said Paul.

“I know. I’m not mad at her or anything. I
just had a tough time dealing with it.”

“You stink like bourbon.”

Jacker cupped his hand over his mouth so
that his breath went back into his nose. “Do I?”

“Yeah, man. Bad.”

“I hit the bottle pretty hard. I’m not sure
I’m like you, Paul. I don’t know if I can drink and still be sober.
I pounded shots, but man, I’d give anything for a hit.” He looked
at the crook of his arm. “I think drinking just makes it worse for
me.”

“Well then don’t drink.”

Jacker snickered at the suggestion. “Easier
said than done, brother.”

“No truer words have ever been spoken, but
we’ve just got to deal with it.” Paul nearly finished his cigarette
as they sat silent for another long moment. “Tell you what, I’ll
quit drinking too. We’ll quit everything together.”

“No, man,” said Jacker. “You don’t need to
do that. You’ve got your shit straight. Don’t go switching it up
for me.”

“Hey, Jacker.” Paul punched his friend on
the shoulder and smiled. “How about you shut the fuck up and let me
do something nice for you for a change?”

“Honestly, Paul, you don’t have to do
that.”

“Remember a couple months ago, when I called
you in the middle of the night, high as a kite?”

“How could I forget?”

“I was crying like an asshole, and you came
right over to pick me up. You bought me dinner over at the Mexican
place on Taft.”

“Uncle Julio’s,” said Jacker, recalling the
name of the restaurant. “Fucking amazing burritos.”

“There’s something I never told you about
that night.”

“What’s that?” asked Jacker.

“I was going to hang myself.”

Jacker sat up straight and grimaced. “What
the fuck? Are you serious?”

Paul nodded and glanced back at the front
door to make sure Alma wasn’t eavesdropping. “Yeah. I’ve still got
the noose back at my place. It’s hanging in my closet as a reminder
of how low I got.”

“Fuck, man,” said Jacker. “I wish you
would’ve said something. I could’ve…”

“You did everything you needed to,” said
Paul. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. But I had a person I
could rely on, and I owe you for that.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” said
Jacker.

“Yes I do.” Paul put his hand on the back of
Jacker’s neck and squeezed as he shook the man back a forth a
little. “I need you, big guy. So if turning down a few beers here
and there will help you out, you’d better believe I’m going to do
it. Understood?”

“Okay, but you’ve got to do something else
for me,” said Jacker.

“If you ask me to give you a blowjob, our
friendship is going to get mighty awkward all of the sudden.”

“Oh,” said Jacker. “Then never mind, I
guess.” They laughed and then Jacker said, “Throw out that noose.
Or better yet, burn it.”

Paul stamped out his cigarette on the step
and then put out his hand for Jacker to shake. “Deal.”

Jacker shook his friend’s hand. “By the way,
Alma is fucking gorgeous, man.”

Paul looked back at the door to the
apartment. “Yeah, thanks. She knocked my socks off when she got
back from shopping with Rachel. Don’t get me wrong, I always
thought she was beautiful, but holy shit. A hair cut and some
make-up go a long way.”

“It’s more than that,” said Jacker. “She
loves you. Any idiot can see that. When she’s with you, she looks
happy. Bear with me here, cause I’m about to sound like a chick,
but seeing you two together has made me believe in love again.”

“Holy shit, bro,” said Paul. “You are
sounding like a chick. What the hell did they do to you in there?”
He pointed back at Stephen and Rachel’s apartment.

Jacker laughed and then threatened to punch
Paul, who feigned a flinch. “I’m serious, man. The past six months
that I’ve known you, I’ve been trying to convince you to give up on
her. I wanted you to move on because I was worried that your whole
‘true love’ thing was bullshit. I just wanted to tell you that I
was wrong. Seeing you two together…” he shrugged and tried to come
to terms with what he was feeling. “I don’t know, it just makes me
feel good. I never felt that way about Debbie. I think I stayed
with her because she didn’t bitch too much when I touched her
boobs.”

“Fuck that whore, man,” said Paul. “We’ll
find someone for you. You’re too good a guy to be wasted on a tramp
like that.”

“Two years clean,” said Jacker, “right down
the drain because of that bitch.”

“Every day’s a struggle, man,” said Paul.
“And every day sober is a win. Doesn’t matter if it’s been two
years or two days. You’re the one that taught me that.”

“Does that make you my sponsor now?”

“Shit,” said Paul as he pretended to be deep
in thought. “I guess you’re right. Oh man, you’re fucked.” They
laughed and Paul reached into his pocket to pull out his sobriety
coin. He offered it to Jacker.

“What’s this for?”

“I wouldn’t have it if it weren’t for you.
Figure I owe it to you.”

Jacker took the coin and clasped it
tightly.

* * *

“Wake up, freeloaders!” Stephen was chipper
and loud as he came into the living room where his guests were
sleeping.

Alma threw a pillow at him. “It’s too early
to be so happy,” she said and pressed her face back into Paul’s
side as they lay on the couch

“Today’s the big day,” said Stephen as he
went into the kitchen. “The van’s all packed, and we’re ready to
go. I’ll buy some breakfast on the way.” No one responded, so he
spoke louder. “Come on, guys! Let’s go!”

“Holy shit, dude,” said Jacker. “Is the sun
even up?”

“It’s almost seven,” said Stephen. “Come on,
we’re already running late.”

“In my world it’s impossible to be running
late for anything at seven in the morning,” said Jacker, but he sat
up anyhow. His hair was standing straight out on either side of his
head, making him look like a clown as he sniffled and yawned.