The 5000 Fingers of Bob, pt II

Glenn seemed satisfied with himself and leaned back in his chair. We sat in silence for the next half-hour or so until the sun made its bed, then one by one, everyone drifted off in their separate directions. Jack was the last to go, still holding on to his last bottle of beer, empty now, his eyes turned to the red horizon.

"So what's it all about, Jack?" I asked after a minute or two.

His gaze slowly migrated to where I sat. I could tell something was bothering him, but Jack would say he didn't believe in a man having feelings. Maybe that was his price of survival from the war, maybe they had all been burned out of him after his wife died, maybe it was a combination of both, but I couldn't have said. I didn't know him back then. The way he drooped in his chair I could hardly see his face. The moon set at his back and I saw his broad shoulders rise and fall with a deep sigh.

"My little girl's pregnant," he said suddenly, turning his profile to me.

My mouth hung open in surprise. Jack was so strict in her raising, I couldn't imagine where or how or --

"Some boy from up in New York," he answered without my asking. Jack was the oldest of the five of us, but he looked the youngest. Tonight he looked all of his forty-two years. He paused a moment before continuing. "She told me just last week, tears in her eyes just as big as the day Cad passed. I was all set to throw her out when I saw those tears and I thought to myself 'This is my baby'. I held her in my arms the same minute she was born. Been raisin' her by m'self over ten years- how could I think such a thing?'

"I sat down and talked with her and you know what? The girl's off and gotten a life without me. She said that boy is gonna do right by her, gonna take her right up to New York City with him."

We sat in silence another moment.

"And I want her to go with him. I want her to go and never look back."

"Why, Jack?"

"That boy," he said and stopped, turning towards me and exhaling sharply through his nose. I knew he wasn't talking about the one from New York City, his finger stuck out as if Bob were standing a few yards away from the porch and he was pointing him out. "That boy," he began more carefully, "was in my house night before last. He was standing over my Jenny while she was sleepin', just… lookin' at her, his eyes all thirsty-lookin'."

"How'd he get in?" I said, distracted by even more stunning news and betraying more excitement than I intended. Jack didn't take notice, but plowed through his tale.

"Don't know. My door stays locked nowadays like everyone else's. I just about killed him throwin' him out. If Jenny hadn't been there…"

"Tell the truth, I don't know if I couldda been a better man, myself," I said. A couple more beers were stirring around in the bucket and I fished one out. "Whatchoo do after that?"

"That's the thing. No sooner was I throwin' him offa my porch, than the door slams in my face when I turn to go back in. And I swear I saw that boy's face in the doorway the instant before it shut."

"Say what?"

"Yeah," Jack said, nodding. "I was shocked as all get-out, m'self. I did a double take and there he was still, picking hisself off m'lawn.