A Sad Man
By; Jessica Singleton
A Fictional Story that will never happen anywhere.
Jacq walked into the Union Bank. He walked up to the teller with the light brown curly hair. He smiled at her. Her name tag said her name was Susan Miller. Susan was tired of Jacq bothering her. He had come into the bank everyday for the last week.
Jacq ask to talk with Susan when her shift was over. He had on a pair of wrinkled pants and his hair was thinning. Jacq was 30 years older then Susan. She rolled her eyes and she interrupted Jacq before he had a chance to try again.
"I told you yesterday sir. And I will say it again. I do not want to talk to you. Do not come in here unless you have an account and when you do come in.... I would like it if you would find another teller to wait on you. Now leave me alone. "
Susan Whispered so that no one would hear her, but people tend to notice an older man talking to a young girl.
The man looked like his heart broke. The man went over to a waiting area and he waited to see a person to help him. Jacq did open a bank account that day. When he came in, he would always go to the teller closest to Susan. Only so he could smile at her.
Some days Jacq would sit outside the bank and he would wait on Susan to get off work. Only so he could smile at her.
Finally, one day Susan had enough of it. Her coworkers had started to ask about the older man who sat outside the bank. Only because his last name was Miller too.
So one day Susan ask him what he wanted to say.
Jacq said,
"Could you come to my meeting? It would mean a lot. I have a sponsor and he says that it shows that I am making progress if the victims of my crimes see me trying to amend my ways. That is all. I need this Suzzie and I do love you. Your mother kept you from me. I did send you a card. Every year that I was out of prison. I swear it. She just did not tell you my side."
"Do you have a side dad? I mean you were a drunk.... Does it really matter? Besides you are the reason... that Timmy died. I don't think that drunks have back stories, except that they are selfish."
"Well, could you at least come once. And you're right I was a drunk. I was selfish. but Timmy was dying of Cancer."
"Was dying but he was alive when you had a wreck.... Dad... I don't need this."
"Please just one meeting."
"Okay, fine where and when. You got five minutes."
"The old brick tower by City Hall. And Suzie thanks. Suit 21, 4th floor. The elevator is busted half the time, take the stairs."
"Don't call me that. Call me Susan. Suzzie is a child's name. See you tomorrow night. What time?"
"7:30 PM"
"Okay..."
The next night Susan walked into a room with folding chairs in it. There was a table in the back of the room with juice and cookies. Most of the A A members looked like old truckers and washed up hookers.
A man took the mic and he said that Jacq was finally going to take the microphone and he wanted to share. Everyone clapped. Susan sat in the back row. She folded her hands in her lap.
Jacq got to the mic and he looked around the crowd, when he saw Susan, he looked at his feet. Then he spoke into the mic;
"Hi, my name is Jacq. I have been an alcoholic for 25 years. I never noticed how much I drank around the holidays. I had a good life. I never had to worry about anything. It was always a social drink... Never anything like in the beer ads about cabs. I was not like those people. Anyway I used to work for a big company. I was the boss. I lived in a small town. So everyone knew everyone. When the head ups at the place wanted to have lay offs, I had to give out the blue slips. Only thing was.... I personally knew everyone. Their kids were on the same soccer team as my kids. That is what started it. I started having a few nips at work. It helped to look people in the eye. Then my son got sick. It was not the flu. We took him to a doctor up state. He had cancer. My boy was dying in front of me. There was nothing that I could do. I drove him all over to specialist. They had no news except that we wasted more precious time, making him go on long car trips. I should have taken my boy to Disney Land. Not a clinic up state. Little good they could do. I had to be strong. My wife cried herself to sleep. I wanted to be the perfect husband. I did not want Tim to know he was dying. I wanted the house to be as normal as possible. I guess I was drinking a lot in those days. My wife just thought that I did not care. She thought that I was smiling when I should have been crying. One night, I was in the den. My wife was yelling. She came in and said, oh do I need to go to the store. Hell, I would not want to interrupt your glass of wine. I ask what she was talking about? She went off about me not getting milk from the store. How the kids have to have milk for just about everything. I said, no I have not had any yet. I lied. I just wanted to fix it.. Ya know... I did not want her to see me fall apart. The kids wanted to go with me. I could not say no. I drove us to the store fine. I got the damn milk.... Then.... on the way home... Some guy ran a stop sign. I woke up in a hospital bed. I did not remember it. They told me a story of that night and I did not know.... I fell asleep at the wheel. I was boozed up bad. I ran the sign. I hit another car. The other driver only suffered minor injuries. My daughter in the back seat was okay because she had on a seat belt. But my son Tim was in the front seat. He went through the windshield. I was not there when my boy died. I went to jail for a year. I got out and I drank hard. I lost my job. Alcohol was against the law for me. My probation officer said so. He was always on me. My wife divorced me. She kept my daughter from me. At the point when I needed a drank the most, I could not have it. I lost my job. I had to start over. It took me a year to get my daughter to talk to me. The man that I hit, the one in the other car, he forgave me. He said he found Jesus. He said we all deserve forgiveness. I know. I keep telling myself that. But it is hard. I cannot let it go...But I have been sober for 10 years now. "
Susan was crying in the back row. When her father was done talking, she got up and she left. The next day when he came into the bank, she got up and she walked over to him. She ask him if he would show up at five when she got off work.
Then she took her dad out for coffee. She formed a relationship with him.
The End
Art from online;
VAN GOGH is the artist of the pic below.
Story above by me.
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