Lucky

Driving Jacob to school was terrifying but necessary. He has to go to school otherwise he’ll fall behind in his classes or even worse, they might think I’m an unfit parent. This was something I had been afraid of ever since his mother died. She was always the one to go to the school meetings and such since I was usually at work. I still didn’t feel comfortable there after she passed, so I avoided it. I felt like they were all just waiting to find a reason to call social services on me. School was unavoidable, but work could be postponed. I walked to the front door and pulled the deadbolt.

I wasted my day checking mortality rates due to car accidents and trying to distract myself with daytime TV. Before I knew it, three o’clock and Jacob’s school was letting out.

After a quick breathing exercise, I grabbed my keys, walked to my car, and started driving. I ignored the honking horns and angry drivers as I slowly made my way towards the school. But it didn’t matter how safely I drove. I knew that it only took one second of somebody else not paying attention to ruin everything. And that’s exactly what happened.

I was a mile away from the school, waiting at a red light with the radio off. It turned green and I released my brake and started driving. To my left, a car entered the intersection in an attempt to squeeze in a quick left turn before traffic started through the green light. My brakes locked up and his tires squealed as we narrowly avoided each other. A middle finger flew in my direction and I finally released my breath as the other cars filled the intersection.

I pulled over once I made it to the other side and turned off my car. My hands were shaking and little white dots filled my vision. I unclipped my seatbelt and abandoned the car as the other lunatics zoomed past me. I started running down the sidewalk. I didn’t want to be late to the school and risk Jacob thinking I forgot about him or worse, an abduction. In my mind, there was a line of unmarked, windowless vans in front of the school just waiting for the next parentless child to wander onto the sidewalk. I couldn’t let that happen. So I ran.

It was only a mile but I’ve never been known for my physical prowess. I found Jacob standing next to the flag pole when I finally arrived, wheezing and sweating. Mr. Parson, his homeroom teacher, stood next to him.

“Dad?” he said.

“Jacob. Hey. Don’t, don’t be afraid.” I put my hands on my knees and tried to catch my breath. “I’m here. You’re safe.” I put my arm around his shoulder and scanned the yard around us. “Let’s go home, son.”

“Jim. Are you okay?” asked Mr. Parson.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

He was looking at me like I had an extra eye in my forehead. I knew he was filled with nothing but terrible thoughts. We had to get home, with a locked door, as soon as possible. But I didn’t have my car and it wouldn’t be any safer in a cab so we were forced to walk.

“Where’s your car?”

I turned Jacob away from his teacher and looked Parson in the face. “It’s somewhere else. Anything else you want to ask? Preferably something that is remotely your business?”

The teacher put his hands up and took a step backwards. But he didn’t turn around. And he didn’t apologize.

It took us about a half hour but we eventually walked into our apartment and I locked the door behind us. I told Jacob the car had been stolen and that we wouldn’t be seeing it again. I thought that if I was forced to leave my apartment, I could just buy a tank. As long as we were home, we were okay. Excluding natural disasters. And stray bullets. And poisonous spiders.

Two weeks passed. My employers did me the favor of firing me after the first week of not calling in and not showing up. And after two weeks of Jacob showing up late to school, if I was able to get him there at all, they seemed to be reaching a tipping point as well. This is why it shouldn’t have been a surprise when there was a knock at my door while we were eating dinner.

I looked through the peephole for about ten seconds before I said, “Who is it?”

“Damon Ball. Social Services. Could you open the door, Mr. Thorn?”

I hesitated with the lock. He didn’t have a search warrant so I could just tell him to get lost. Plus, how do I know this wasn’t a ruse to murder both me and Jacob with a hacksaw?

“Identification?” I said. I watched as he dug in his pocket and pulled out what looked to be a card. It was impossible to read it through the peephole. But the man looked somewhat small and if it came to blows, I thought I’d be able to take him. I unlatched the lock and cracked the door open.

“Let me see that,” I said. He held the laminate closer to my face and I saw it was legit.

“Mr. Thorn, I’m just following up on some questions we’ve been receiving about the welfare of your child.”

“Questions? By who?” I didn’t need to ask. The look Mr. Parson gave me outside of the school was burned into my memory.

“It seems Jacob has been missing a lot of school lately.”

“We’ve been busy.”

“And his teachers were troubled by your appearance. I’m just here to make sure their worries are unfounded so we can put all of this behind us. May I come in?”

I looked behind me at Jacob sitting at the table.

“I can’t let you in here.”

“Sir, I have to say that your behavior is aligning pretty well with their concerns. If you allow me to disprove them, we can forget about all of this. But if you insist on blocking my inquiry, I’ll be forced to come back with the police.”

“Well then go get your backup,” I said as I started closing the door.

He stuck his foot in the crack, leaving the door open a few inches. “Listen, Jim is it? I gotta tell you, this looks bad. I know you’re wife is gone and I don’t want you to lose your son, too. He hasn’t been coming to school, your behavior has been erratic and unpredictable, and people are raising concerns about the welfare of your child. You can’t go on like this if you want to keep Jacob around. We only want what’s best for him, but at the same time, we want what’s best for you too. I don’t want this to get nasty, but if you force me, I’ll have no choice. Now please, let’s just put this to rest.”

I stayed silent. Could I trust him? Anybody can print up a little card. But if he’s telling the truth, I was in danger of losing my child. I couldn’t figure out how I should be thinking. I didn’t know which right was the most right.

“Wait here,” I said. “But let me close the door, please.” He withdrew his foot and I locked the door. “Be right back,” I said into the peephole.

Jacob sat at the table, silent through the whole exchange. I glanced at him as I walked past and managed a smile while I held up a finger to him as if saying, “Just a second.” I walked into my bedroom, opened the drawer with the lottery ticket, and pulled out my wife’s ring. I clasped it between my hands and kneeled at the bed.