A guy named Jack!

By Chanuga Rollins

I don’t make friends real easily, it’s not because I can’t, but the truth is I don’t like to. I hang out with the guys I grew up with, and we’re very clicky, outsiders are rarely welcomed.

I started working for this shitty private security company as a guard. I worked the 3p to 11p shift, security guards are often frowned upon by the employees of these companies who choose to bring in security guards, but the people where I worked were really friendly, I even dated a couple of the girls that worked there.

One day I was complaining to another guard about my car. It was a 1971 Chrisler Newport, I think my carburetor was shot, I barely made it to work that day. A guy named Jack heard my conversation in the lobby, since he was on his break he offered to have a look at my car which was parked out front.

For the few months that I worked at this company, this guy Jack and I would shoot the shit as they say, he’d go on his break or come down to have a smoke and he would hang out at the security desk. I really didn’t know him, I never even knew his last name.

But we went outside I started up my car and he had a look under the hood. I’m not a mechanic, but Jack obviously knew his shit with cars. With a screwdriver and a few twists and turns here and there the car sounded better, he said that there were a few issues but that I should be ok until the weekend, he volunteered to work on my car for free I just had to buy the parts which I thought was really nice of him.

Saturday morning true to his word Jack showed up at my house with his tools, we ran over to the auto parts store, and he worked on my car for most of that morning. Jack wouldn’t take any money, so after he washed up in my bathroom I asked him what he was doing tonight. Nothing really probably just watching some TV, he said. Yeah fuck that I said, why don’t you come back around eight I’m going to a friends house he’s having a party. Jack was excited, ok I’ll be back at eight. I kind of got the feeling that this guy Jack didn’t have a lot of friends in his life, he did however know how to fix cars, mine never ran so good.

Ron, a longtime friend, was the one having the party tonight, to be honest, Ron had parties every Saturday night. He supplemented his income by charging three bucks a head and he supplied the keg of beer, Ron also spun records wherever he could get a gig, and sold pot, that’s what he did for a living. Ron, maybe because was a disk jockey knew a lot of people, some of his parties were legendary.

Jack again was right on time, I asked him to drive, the party was only two blocks away, but I figured if I met a girl Jack wouldn’t get stuck for a ride. We got there and the party was in full swing, girls were everywhere. I introduced Jack to a few of my friends and told him to go mingle, I noticed that he got into a few conversations with people, so I let him be. A girl who I hoped would be there was, so we took a walk.

It became kind of a ritual, stop at Ron’s party get a little buzzed, and go to one of the several night spots around the city afterward, in the wee hours of the morning most of this crowd would meet up again at one of the all-night diners.

After our walk she wanted to go elsewhere else, I told her about Jack and said that I had to at least tell him I was leaving. So, I ran upstairs and to my surprise Jack was talking to some girl, I told him that I was leaving with someone, and he reassured me that he was having a blast and that he would be fine, I’ll see you Monday at work.

On Monday, there was no Jack, I asked one of his co-workers where he was, and they said that he called off. Of course, to me that meant a hangover, I thought nothing of it, but then it was Tuesday, and still, no Jack, where the fuck is this guy, his co-workers didn’t know either, apparently, he didn’t either bother calling off that day.

Wednesday just a few hours before I had to go to work Ron called me, hey man that guy that you brought to the party is still here. I was flabbergasted, what! Jack never left the party, instead, he’s been sleeping on Ron’s couch and sitting in his living room most of the time in the fucking dark, freaking Ron out.

I got dressed and ran over to Ron’s apartment… The apartment was in an old 1800s Victorian, and his place was on the back side, so it didn’t get a lot of sunlight, Ron let me in and there sitting in a dark room was Jack. What the fuck is up dude, I asked him? Just relaxing man, how’s your car running Jack asked. Fuck the car, Jack you have to leave, you're freaking Ron out and he didn’t inherit you.

I never got any real answers from Jack about his behavior or what made him think he could stay at Ron’s. I don’t know if he had some sort of breakdown or what, this is why I rarely mingle with outsiders.

After this incident I never saw Jack again, his co-workers said that he never called his job and that they would have to terminate him. A few months later the security company lost that contract and I wound up unemployed, my car, however, was still running great!

The end

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