Into the Wild Dark

CHAPTER 4 - JACK

Ch. 4: Jack's Ghost

August 9 | Night

As the party invitation had promised, Friday morning my new cellphone came alive with instructions for me to prepare for a VIP experience. A tuxedo arrived at noon. By eleven p.m., I discovered a Rolls Royce waiting for me in the parking lot. I hadn't known what to expect from a billionaire philanthropist, but riding in style felt like a proper start. I wondered what that busy-body Denise would think if she peeked out her window at me climbing into this.

I smiled as I adjusted my cufflinks and stepped out. The aroma of baked chicken and kapustnica, a sausage and sauerkraut soup, trailed me from the apartment. I prayed the scent hadn't leached into my clothes.

From the door, Mom gave a small wave with her fork. "Enjoy your night, hun."

Dad had a dinner roll in hand, chewing slowly behind her. He eyeballed the ash black luxury car, unmoved. I couldn't fight a glance at his dilapidated truck. There was an obvious contrast between the haves and the have nots, even if Dad was content with what he had. I thought about the threat of eviction constantly hanging over our heads with Mom and Dad trying to scrape together the rent in time every month. Me, I could survive a homeless shelter, but not my folks.

No way Cyprian, whoever he was, worked harder than them. I wished I could give them the lifestyle they deserved.

Dad nodded at the driver but spoke to me. "Lepši chlebik v pokojí ako koláč v rozbroji."

"Pomalší. Slower, please." I sighed, rusty at speaking his native tongue.

"I said is better to eat bread in peace than cake in turmoil. Be careful. Okay? Call if you need."

Our eyes locked over the shrill chitter of cicadas. "I'll be fine, Dad," I said.

"Either way." He rolled a shoulder to scratch his ear. "Bad luck runs after people. Call."

Squaring my jaw, I tromped to the car. The liveried driver opened the backdoor without a word. I was ready to survey the interior sans anyone to witness my car aficionado fanboy behavior, but I was stopped in my tracks by the picture of perfection in the backseat.

"Mal Ashivant, attorney at law," she introduced herself.

My dazed stare traced her from manicured toes to voluptuous calves and thighs to cinched waist and lush decolletage. She was in a short red dress that made her tawny skin appear golden. Upturned eyes kohled in black and fringed with long, thick lashes peered back at me. An aquiline nose curved over bow-shaped lips that parted to reveal brilliant white teeth. I sat next to her in mute amazement.

She laughed as she tossed a mane of lustrous espresso hair. "And you're Jack Slobodnik, correct? It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'll be escorting you tonight."

"I, uh... Sorry, I smell like dinner."

She lifted an eyebrow. "You smell delicious."

"Oh, no." I hurriedly punched the button to let down the window.