A Night at The Vag

Chapter 2

 (This entry was edited by ballantine on 06-26-01 @ 12:43 pm EDT)

Hope was no stranger to Jack. Growing up in La Marque Texas had imbued Jack with all sorts of hopes. The first and foremost of those being that someday he would leave and go as far away as he could. Figuring to get the inevitable over with he had tried to leave a few times, and except for a couple of notable trips to Lake Charles he just hadn't made it very far, until now... Ironically, staying at home was eventually what got Jack out of La Marque.

Doug 'Lefty' Riffer of Riffer Chevrolet had long ago decided that he would sell more cars if his impetuous youngest son was somewhere else. Small town memories are long and Johnathon Edwards Riffer had left an undeniable impression on the folks of La Marque, Texas. In a factory town where drinking, fighting and long hours of hard work were the only after hour activities it wasn't easy to be noticed, but through no fault of his own, as Jack would explain it, he had managed it. When Jack got caught selling marijuana to Sheriff Nathan Wayne's wife, Lefty Riffer decided it was high time to send his boy somewhere far, far away.

Jack was sure that his rescue was imminent. The renewed hope that living was something he could still look forward to led Jack to the realization that time really drags on when one begins to feel hope.

Eleanor Riffer had never babied any of her three boys. If they wanted to beat themselves senseless far be it for her to get in the way, so long as their horseplay was outside she was content to stay inside. Jack worshipped his mother and was never fooled by her gruff demeanor. She gave herself away with an endless supply of bandages and scoldings. Growing up his older brothers had beaten the snot out of him daily. He'd had his arm broken in three places playing high school football. The driver-side door of a 72 Chevy Impala had taken a big chunk out of his thumb one day when he and his brothers had been screwing around at his dad's lot, so Jack didn't figure on doing much complaining. Pain was something he felt he had a handle on. The cold, however, was completely unnerving, eating away at his reserves it penetrated his defenses like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Jack figured pain was better than cold, as long as the pain occurred in a warm room.

Jack figured hope wasn't all it was cracked up to be either.
That is until he saw the flickering lights and heard the sounds of people approaching from below.