Sins of the Father

Jack Jordan Jr. gunned his car down rural highway thiry-one fighting to stay on the twisting mountain road. He drove recklessly, as if he had no reason to live, but that wasn't true. It was the only way he could escape them. Sliding sideways, his tires squealed, chattered. He almost lost control. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning into the slide. He regained control, but would not slow. Freedom was rare and he relished every second of it.

Anxiously he checked the rear view mirror. Red and gold leaves swirled in the draft of his car, but thankfully that was all. The driver-side window was rolled down slightly. The scent of wood smoke came through carried on the chill breeze. Fall was beautiful in the Smokey Mountains, but he couldn't enjoy it. He had other things on his mind. He checked the mirror again and scowled. It didn't matter. They would find him. They always did.

He scanned the directions scribbled on a napkin. Lucky for him the waitress at that diner knew this area well. Barber Road was his next turn. He didn't want to miss it and slowed reluctantly, knowing that they would catch up to him sooner. There it was. The sign, nearly hidden in the bushes, was hard to see. His destination should be less than a mile ahead.

It had taken three torturous and long years to get here and now wasn't the time for second thoughts, but he had them anyway. What if she wouldn't see him? What if that waitress warned her he was coming? Would she even be there? He shook his head sharply. There was no time for foolishness. He would see her if he had to sit in his car in front of her trailer all night. She had to be the cause of his problem and she would fix it.

A wooden sign, with faded black letters, came into view. He squinted. Pembroke Pines Trailer Park. This is it. He pulled into the drive. Gravel popped under his tires. Stopping in front of the third trailer--it should be hers--he cut the engine.

The trailer had a small deck with faded redwood stain. A sun-bleached bench swing hung from an old metal frame. Alongside the swing a waist-high metal ash tray stood. It was rusty.

A crow landed on the porch railing. It stared at him with one evilly glittering eye. Another lighted on the power line leading to the trailer. They were here already. It never took them long. He felt that familiar throb in his head. Irritated, he rubbed his temples. He'd better get this over with before the whole damn neighborhood was covered with them.

Scowling, he got out of his car, slammed the door and climbed the porch stairs. He took a swipe at the crow. It fluttered into the air with a rustle of blue-black feathers, easily dodging his clumsy swing and lightly landing back on the railing. It cocked its head as if questioning his actions.

He gave up, knocked on the door and stepped back so anyone inside could see him. The curtain in the window beside the door twitched. The door flung open, banging against the wall.

"What the hell are you doing here?" a woman asked.

He peered at her. It was the woman he had been searching for all right. Her hair was a different color and she had gained weight, but he had no doubt it was Susan McAlister.

"Well," she said.

"I'm not who you think I am. But I've been told I look a lot like him."

She squinted at him and nodded. "You're younger."

"My name's Jack Jordan Jr. I'm your brother. Half-brother actually." The crow on the railing behind him cawed harshly. Susan jumped. She must not have noticed it yet. That was the signal. All the crows started cawing. Jack flinched and looked around. The area was covered with them, hundreds of them, perched in trees and on the other trailers. It seemed as if they did it on purpose and waited until they were all gathered for maximum effect. How he hated them. Someone cursed nearby. A door slammed. The noise was terrible.

She looked around the yard. "What the hell's with all these crows?"

Jack took a step toward her so he could be heard. "Look. I need to talk to you and it's too noisy out here. Can I come in for a minute?"

Hesitating, she bit her lower lip. "Yeah, I guess so."

He slipped past her. She shut the door, blocking out most of the racket.

"That's better," she said. "Would you like a drink? I got iced tea and beer."

"Tea would be great," he replied. She left for the kitchen.

He looked around the living room. It was small and clean and smelled faintly of raspberries and more strongly of cigarettes. Pictures covered walls. Bric-a-brac covered shelves. It was a maid's nightmare. A worn recliner sat in one corner. A crocheted blanket draped the couch.

"Have a seat," she said, indicating the couch and handing Jack a glass of iced tea.

He sat on the edge of the couch, nervous, his back stiff. He couldn't relax. He sipped the tea. It was good. A point in her favor.

"Now, tell me why you were looking for me." She sat on the recliner; one leg tucked underneath her, and popped the top on a can of beer.

He stared into his glass. Everything he had to say sounded crazy, but he had to do it. "About three years ago our father, Jack Jordan Sr. died."

She snorted. "He was never my father."

He ignored her. "I hadn't seen dad in a few weeks when he called me. He said crows were following him. I laughed at him. He tried to convince me it was true. Eventually I hung up on him. A few days later he was dead. Ever since the day we buried him I have been followed constantly by crows."

"That's weird. I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't seen them. What's it got to do with me?"

"I'm getting to it. One day I visited a friend in the hospital in downtown Birmingham. The only vacant parking deck was several blocks away so I had to walk. the crows followed me, even in the city. People stared and talked, but they didn't know it was my fault. On the way back to the parking deck it started to rain. I ducked into this little bookstore to wait it out. It was a strange little place, all dark and dusty." He placed his glass on the coffee table.

"Use a coaster please."

She was as bad as his wife. He did as asked. "A few seconds after I entered a voice said 'you're cursed.'" I turned around. I didn't see anybody at first. There was this old lady behind the counter. She was hard to see. Sort of blended into the background. I told her I didn't believe in any of that junk. 'Why are there so many crows outside' she said. I was shocked. I wanted to know how she knew about that. 'I already told you,' she said. 'It's a curse. It's all over you boy.' She got a kind of faraway look in her eye. 'It descended from your father and is born of blood you do not know.'"

Susan got a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. "And then you found me?"

"Not right away. None of us knew dad had a love child."

"He never said anything about me?" she asked, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Only to one person. Our uncle. Our father's brother. When I talked to him about relatives I didn't know he eventually told me about you. I think he only told me to get rid of all the crows crapping in his pool."

"And then you came here?"

"No. He didn't know your name. It took another year to find that out."

"You been working hard trying to find me. Why?"

"I believe you're the only person who could've done this to me."

"You're trying to say I had something to do with those crows?" She laughed, high-pitched and abrasive. It was almost a cackle and as annoying as the cawing barely muffled by the trailer's thin walls. "That man," she sputtered. "Your father. He was never there for me. He denied my existence. He didn't show in court when mama tried to get child support. He didn't even tell anyone about me except his brother. I guess confession is good for the soul and he had to tell someone."

"He wasn't there for his other children either," Jack countered. "You know he traveled for a living and was gone most of the time, but even when he was at home he didn't stick around. He would leave without a word and stay gone all day, not coming home until supper was ready. Many times he went on vacation all by himself. He didn't seem to want any of us around."

"But he"--

"But nothing. He wasn't there for you. So what. You didn't miss out on anything. His comfort and his pleasure were the only things he cared about. And there are worse things about him I won't tell you."

"Such as?"

"That's all I'll say about that. You don't seem to realize this, but you were better off without him.'

Susan put out her cigarette, aggressively grinding it into the ashtray. "You think I 'cursed' you," she said mockingly, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers. "Look, Jack." She made the word Jack sound like an insult. "There is no such thing as magic. No such things as curses and I've had all I can stand for one night. It's time for you to leave." She stood and opened the door.

Jack went to the door. Turning back, he pointed a finger accusingly. "You don't understand. I've lost my job because of those damn crows. My wife left me and took the kids. I haven't seen them in nearly a year. You're the only one who could have done it. My wife and kids won't come near me because of the crows. Because of you."

"Get out."

He lunged for her. Clutching her throat, he squeezed. "You will fix this." He shoved her hard against the wall. She flinched, her face contorted in pain.

"I can't take anymore," he whispered harshly. Spittled dribbled down his chin. "I can hear them all the time even in my sleep. They're always there." He squeezed harder. "I want my life back."

Her face turned purple. Her eyes bulged. Jack blinked. What was he doing? He relaxed his grip. Sharp pain erupted on the side of his head. He blacked out.

*****

"Wake up, Jordan," someone growled. "You got a visitor."

Jack opened his eyes. His vision was blurry from sleep. Iron bars wavered a few feet away. Where was he? Oh yeah. Jail. A deputy sheriff stood on the other side of the bars. Susan stood just behind him.

The deputy went to the door. "You just give a holler, missy, if that loser tries anything." He left.

Jack sat up on the lumpy cot and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, accidentally brushing against the bruise on his temple. "Ouch."

"Does it hurt much?"

"Hmph."

"Look, I'm sorry, but you didn't give me much choice."

"Whatever. Why are you here?"

She clutched a tissue in her hands and gave it a nervous twist. "I'm leaving town."

He looked up. "Why?"

"Because of you. I'm not pressing charges, but I can't trust you. They'll let you out once I'm gone."

"Why would you do this?"

She turned away. "Because you're right," she whispered.

"About what?"

"You know about what." Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her. "The curse. It's true. It was me. I did it."

He leapt off the cot and clutched the cold bars with both hands. "Then stop it," he begged.

"It's not that simple. Forgiveness is the answer." She grabbed the doorknow, gave it a twist and looked back. "I truly am sorry, but I will never forgive Jack Jordan Sr."

She fled. The door closed slowly and Jack Jordan Jr. noticed, for the first time that day, the crows cawing.