LOTF: Before and After

Phase 3: Chapter 36

It wasn't enough; it would never be enough; there was no such thing as enough. It was an unattainable state, a universe where the laws of time and space needn't apply the way they unfortunately did in the world of Ralph Langley. What he couldn't get enough of was Jack Merridew. Since they'd been caught by Ralph's parents, they were able to be together far more often. Avoiding detection where Ralph's family was concerned was no longer a concern at all. Jack's family, on the other hand, was where the secrecy remained alive. Luckily for him (depending on how you look at it), Jack's father rarely payed mind to how he spent his time so long as Evan didn't have to take off work to pick him up from the Whitfield County Jail. Again.

Paige would often cover for her little brother when he'd gallivant off to Ralph's house for a night, or a weekend. She'd tell her father Jack was out with friends from school, meeting up with some girl, or playing games in the downtown arcade. Evan concluded that his son was avoiding him, rather than seeking out someone else, and this he simply shrugged off. Most of the time.

The fortunate thing about Evan Merridew was that he liked Ralph; probably more than he liked his own son. Ralph had been polite that first night he stayed over at the Merridew house, and Evan mentioned to Jack that he could stand to be a little more like Ralph; to show respect the way Ralph did.

"He's a guest, he was being polite because this isn't his house" Jack argued, but as usual, Evan dismissed him with a laughter that intended to humiliate Jack, but instead it only angered him.

When Jack was home, he could be found in the basement that consisted of Evan's fitness room, an additonal gaming room containing both video game consoles and arcade games, and an undeveloped additional bedroom that nobody ever used. When his father wasn't home, Jack would take a bunch of glass plates from one of the dozens of boxes in the attic all the way down to that extra room. It was a large room, of course, but all that was stored in it was an unmade mattress on a dusty frame and a broken mirror in the corner. There was a double-door closet on the wall adjacent to the door. The largest wall of the room was empty; a blank canvas. Although if you looked close enough, you could see a series of dents and scratches all across the wall.

This was how Jack released his pent up anger, usually towards his father. He'd stand with his back against the wall beside the door and throw glass plates at it as hard as he possibly could. He'd bring his speaker from his bedroom and blast the music of one of those heavy metal bands he had postered on his bedroom wall four floors up. Jack played the music so loud, he risked bursting his eardrums. But the noise made it easier to drown out his thoughts as he watched glass collide with drywall, shattering into an unprecedented amount of little pieces. Nothing was more satisfying. Jack would throw plates until his arms cramped up, screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice drowned out by the thrashing music, as little shards of white crystal glass combusted around him. There were occasions when the glass hit the wall so hard, it bounced off it and pieces wound up in the skin of Jack's arms or face. He yanked the slivers of the broken plate out of his skin, the assisting hand bleeding too as he pinched at the sharp edges.

Then when it was all over, every plate he'd brought down shattered to bits and pieces, Jack would drag the vacuum cleaner down from the floor above and vacuum it all up; like it never happened. There were never pieces big enough left behind to be picked up by hand. If there had been, Jack would retrieve these pieces and hurl them against the wall again and again until all the pieces were small as crumbs.

This was one of many things he didn't tell Ralph. He knew that Ralph did love him, and would likely continue to accept him regardless of the ways he chose to release the rage from his body. But Jack knew that there was power in secrets, in keeping things to one's self. Telling Ralph everything would make Jack unsafely vulnerable to him, and his stability depended on keeping some of his vulnerability to himself.