Copyright 1999"He's just no damn good! Look at him, Ida!" An angry finger pointed. "He ain't got no job, ain't going to school, ain't got no respect for anybody, least of all me! All this little bastard cares about is himself!" These hard, painful words kept running through Jimmy"s head that night, as he walked the shadowed streets. The screams, the images plagued him, tormented him, inescapably replaying within his mind and he was helpless against it. Every bit as helpless as the woman who loomed in the alley."He's still your son, John!" Ida cried at her husband. "How can you stand there and say such things about your own son?"
John scowled. "You know damn well why! I can say it because it's all true! This little bastard has broken my heart time after time! It's the only thing he can do! He's just no damn good!"
Again, Jimmy fought against the images in his mind. Yet, there was nothing he could do. He still saw his fathers huge, bearded face, sweat filled, furious . . .disappointed. Then, there was his mother, old before her time, sun wrinkled skin, hair tied in the most practical fashion. Jimmy grimaced, redoubling his efforts, even as did the woman in the alley. Both were in pain, although the woman's was more physical, but both struggled to be free of their torment.
"He'll do better, John!" Ida cried, falling to her knees when she saw her husband putting on his leather gloves. She knew he only did that when he wanted to protect his knuckles from something. "He'll be a good boy from now on!"
"He can't be good! It ain't in him to be anything but what he is, a dirty little bastard! He's sixteen now, and he's only gotten more worthless every year! I'm telling you, he's just no damn good!"
Ida's pleading became quieter, hoping to be more persuasive. He clutched John's huge hand in her own. "He'll get back into school! Please, just give him another chance! My God! He's your son!"
"How the Hell do I know that?" John was a large man, a working man, and when the back of his hand connected with Ida's small face, there was an explosion of blood striking the walls, the furniture and Jimmy. "You little tramp! Don't ever tell me what's what in my own house! He probably ain't even mine! Probably belongs to some mailman! You ain't no damned good either!"
Ida looked up at Jimmy. Her eyes were full of resignation, of defeat. Her ruined little face screamed wordlessly to her son to get out, to run! Jimmy obeyed this plea, and entered the night, once again, as much for himself as for her. He had refused to see his mother get beaten again. Instead, he ran from his house, running with the fuel of anger and fear. He sought comfort in the darkness, which, he realized had been his only true father. At least here, a beating had some sense of equity, at least here, your own family wasn't your tormenter. Then, he wondered if the woman in the alley would agree with his sentiment.
The screaming and his mothers face continued to plague Jimmy. Why? He wondered. Why did she always take my side? Why was she always willing to take those beatings for me? Can't she see that he's right? Can't she see that I am no damn good?
Jimmy's pain was a mirror to that of the woman. His muscles tightened in effort, his expression now turned into a sort of tortured grin. The woman in the alley screamed again, pleading for someone to help her, but there was no one there to hear, only Jimmy.
Jimmy heard the screams all too loudly. A recording of his mothers own, so often played for him. His chest began to heave in anticipation, tears flowing down his dirty face. He strained with every bit of his strength, every bit of energy, every sinew taught. Finally, climactically, Jimmy's shoulder struck flush against the back of the rapist. The one who had attacked the woman in the alley! Both Jimmy and the rapist hit hard against the asphalt. They looked at each, peering over the frightened body of the woman. Suddenly, the rapist rose and ran away.
Relieved, Jimmy rose to his feet. He knew that, had the rapist remained, he could not have fought him. He was exhausted, barely able to stand. He smiled.
Jimmy looked down at the woman, and offered his hand. "Are you alright, lady?"
"I think so." She gasped. "Thank God you came by!"
He helped her to her feet. Jimmy wiped his face, and softly laughed.
"Are you alright?" Asked the woman in the alley.
"I think so. I don't hear the screaming anymore."