The Jack of All Spades

People can be hard to figure out; they have more layers than an onion, and can leave even more tears. Running the streets of New York City was a 26-year- old girl by the name of Jacqueline, Jack for short. Jack was accustomed to running, running from anything good, from her family, and from her problems. One day Jack saw a flyer at the gas station near a bench where she finds her dream. It was advertising for a caregiver with a history of working with children, twenty dollars an hour.

At the ripe age of six, Jack became a felon. Her parents had left the picture, and maturity betrothed the child. For the sake of her twin sister, Jack rose to the occasion; her reflection mirrored the image of a child dressed with adulthood. However, reflections only show the surface a person has to offer, a mold that Jack grew quite talented at manipulating.

On the inside, Jack was a scared kid with no direction, no plans for dinner, let alone tomorrow. Four days into sleeping on the streets, after straying from her deconstructed fame of a home, Jack’s sister could not handle the massive changes being dumped on her life. She was throwing a tantrum, while taking a different route to school than usual, when she began to run. Her live hands thrashed away from Jack for the last time, swayed as running into the road, and laid limp as they collided with a yellow taxi and hit the pavement. There are defining moments during the course of a lifetime; one comparable to that moment of clarity experienced by death row inmates, as the potassium chloride approaches their helpless arm.

This was that moment for Jack, not only did she feel responsible; she was also

found guilty of murder, sentenced to 25 years in a federal penitentiary. Jack did surprisingly well in New York’s Juvenile Detention Center; she was a model inmate, completed her high school education, and even went to study a few early childhood development classes. Jack found great comfort in the predictability of days, and the order of life within her cage walls, being that disarray was a major factor in her love’s untimely death. However, she was never truly able to grieve for her sister throughout the 12 years of this chaos. She was not prepared, mentally or physically, for the wrath of prison; being the smart girl that she was, Jack made a malicious plan before her eighteenth birthday.

As everyone was a “child,” the cells only had one inhabitant and were childproof; this opened plenty of prospects to break and create sharp objects. Jack fashioned a shovel from a once rounded bed corner with a steel spoon stolen from the lunchroom. She then dug a tunnel using this in the shower room, as nobody was allowed to watch the children shower. Though others were aware of this occurrence, they were also mindful of the consequences and chose to neither participate nor discuss. It was three months before the pathway was ready; Jack stowed away into the night, without a single friend, through the juvie sewers, into the public sewer system, and exited through a gray-water depository.

Jack emerged a wet and wanted felon, but also a new girl, one unleashed from, in theory, her past. However, she could not fully escape from it. She broke into a house; in addition to the fecal matter, she hoped a shower would wash off the feeling of pure disgust. Jack then put on a dress; after looking in the mirror, she was still discontented about the reflection; she saw Deborah, not only her soulless sister but Her own new identity, since a prison escapee could not walk the streets of New York City. Deborah hitchhiked her way to a library where she printed a resume and began to inquire for employment. She placed dozens of hooks in the water, but

nobody took the bait, which brings us to the day Deborah saw that flyer that changed her life.

Deborah took the flyer, went to the library, and called the number to ask a Mrs. Sherrie Jackson about this opportunity. To her disappointment, she found that the job had already been taken, and the girl started the following day at eight. Deborah was desperate; through a combination of hustling and quick wit, she knew how to get everything that she had ever wanted. Deborah hitchhiked to Mrs. Jackson’s house in the early morning the next day and awaited Jay, the girl who did get hired. Deborah introduced herself as Mrs. Jackson upon meeting Jay, explained that she chose to hire another candidate, but would take her resume to send to friends. Within the hour, with the help of makeup and hair dye, Deborah became Jay Richardson.

The day was Monday; the time was 7:50; Jay thought to herself, “let this day not be a disaster; Oh lord let this day not be a disaster for my dear little Debbie; I owe this to her!” She walked up to the door and knocked exactly three times as she prayed to herself. As Jay opened the door she blurted, “Hello Mrs. Jackson it is nice to see you again; here is the updated copy of my resume, and I cannot wait to meet everyone.” Mrs. Jackson exclaimed, “Oh Jay that will not be necessary, we are so excited to have you; all of your references had superb performance comments. Besides the fact, I received a promotion at the firm and simply cannot devote as

much time to Mary as I used to. Also, as you are very familiar, she starts at Athens Academy in two weeks, and we believe she will need a full-time companion to succeed mentally and socially. We will want you to spend as much time with her as possible until that day, so that she will respond to you more readily.” Jay smiled, took a deep breath, and entered the house of horror behind Mrs. Jackson. The first time Jay met Mary was when the true horror unleashed itself upon

Mary’s soul. Mary screamed as if seeing a murderer when Jay approached her. Mrs. Jackson apologized and encouraged Jay to sing the alphabet song: “It calms her down,” commented Mrs. Jackson. As Jay sang, Mary began to settle down, until Z was reached, at which point Mary raced toward Jay and pinched the fleshy part of her arm. Jay yelled at Mary like a puppy having ruined new shoes. However, much like the puppy, neither knew they were doing anything wrong.

Jay commented, “What is wrong with Mary?” “She suffers from Autism; Mary is not rain man, but we are incredibly gifted to have her.” They continued to spend the day watching the television together; another outrage occurred when Jay failed to consider Mary’s sensitive ears when increasing the volume. Later that night, Jay turned the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Jackson the wrong way when punishing Mary for eating without silverware. They claimed, “it is just easier to give her what she wants if we plan on eating tonight, let alone have a conversation at the table.” Jay went on to explain that her purpose was to prepare Mary for society and consequently that type of behavior would not be accepted. Strides longer than the first on the moon were made that night; Jay and Mary stayed up long past the bedtime of Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, until Mary had eaten everything on her dinner plate, with a fork. Mrs. Jackson smiled for seemingly the first time in ages after seeing her daughter eat cereal with a spoon, in one sitting, and continue to put her dishes away. At that point Mary asked Mrs. Jackson what the schedule was for the next day; Mrs. Jackson replied, “It is Sherrie to you.” The three started off by heading to Mary’s current school; at which point Jay was discouraged by the low level at which Mary could function. Only realization that Jay was over her head surfaced when the remainder of the day was conquered by visits to a speech therapist, physical therapist, and occupational therapist, followed by more flashcards filled with letters, numbers, and shapes. Then, when Mary ate dinner that night without having to be asked to use silverware, it occurred to her.

Actually, it occurred to me. I realized that I, not Deborah or Jack, had one purpose… to be everything that this child, Mary, needed. To feed Mary’s spirit in the way that it should be nurtured. Mary deserved to get the life that Deborah never got the chance to live; I ensured that she did; together we achieved greatness and I was lucky to have her. She became a Rain Man of her own sorts. One of the proudest moments in my life was teaching her to play the piano, a skill that brought her many places, playing her favorite song, the alphabet. I owe that to every version of myself. Jack, a temporary person, was trying to be something that she was not, or is that exactly who Jack is? I am Jay, and I can tell you that Jack was a person of many trades, much like a spade, only looking out for herself. She was a scared, scarred child who only knew how to

run, Deborah only knew how to fall, and I only know how to catch. I thank God for these three people, and the tragedy that was my sister, which brought me to myself today, happy. I am currently living the truest lie that I have ever told.