Jack's Dilemma | S&S Monthly Invitational: October

As Jimmy grew, so did Jack. For a while, things were good until the others arrived. One by one, Jack moved closer to the rear. For ten years, Jack watched. He schemed, forging battle lines. The wait was fruitful. Jack peered from the oversized chest with a keen eye. Tomorrow, Jimmy would no longer be able to provide his favored protection. Ironically, it was Jimmy's father who provided incentive as he reiterated, "revenge is best served cold." If there ever was a time to serve up a plateful, the day had come for Jack!

"You're such a good boy to take care of this before you leave." Smiling, Jimmy's mother watched with pride as her son sorted the items he'd cherished. Finished, she grabbed three boxes and set them on his bed. Humming cheerfully, she labeled each.

Jack hovered near the chest. He covered his mouth, stifling a scream, unable to believe his eyes.

One by one Jimmy chose the items that would accompany him. Next, he placed in the second box items he would donate. Finally, he tossed others into the trash box.

Jack fell to the carpeted floor. "This can't be. No new adventure?" Clutching the chest handle, he pulled himself up, squinting as Jimmy raised the comforter to check under his bed.

Jack knew that Jimmy was searching for that dumb Dozz, the stuffed, long-armed weasel who always hid. A few moments later, Dozz joined items headed to college.

Sweating, Jack's pulse quickened.

He stiffened watching Jimmy turn to leave. Unspoken rejection covered his face as he shrunk down inside his tinker box. He sobbed; his suit wet with regret. "I didn't mean it Jimmy, he repeated. I was just upset that you left me to Grover."

Distraught, Jack wrung his hands. But his agony had no time to wallow.

He watched as Jimmy's mother strolled toward the chest and grasped additional items. Before he could move from within reach, she grabbed his head and threw him across the room, landing inside the box labeled "TRASH". She set the box on Jimmy's desk near the window, then left.

Jack violently tossed in confusion. Wiping away angry tears, he listened to the commotion outside. His eyes deepened to a dark gray. He reared up and peeked over the box.

From the windowsill he stared.

"We'll miss you terribly, Jimmy. Remember the holidays." The soppy sentiment was dripping with motherly overindulgence. Dad shook hands, then embraced him warmly as though his extensive traveling sales career kept them close.

Anxious to begin life's next phase, Jimmy disentangled their hands, eased into the front seat, then drove away, waving slightly.

A lump lingered in his throat before it disappeared. Rolling his eyes, he sneered at the nauseating display of affection as neighbors watched.

It was bad enough watching Jimmy choose his traveling companions, but the sight of that weasel, Dozz, hanging from the dashboard mirror on a lanyard swaying back and forth with a happy smile, crushed him.

He turned away. Jumping from the Trash Box, he ran from the room.

It wasn't five minutes later Jack returned.

With hands behind his back, he inched closer to the bed. Instantly, he wielded a large kitchen knife, then slashed the pillow repeatedly until feathers floated high. He swung around. Shaking, in a rage-filled voice, his tinker box turned black, pulsating with a ghastly tune. He brandished the knife.

Without warning, he staggered toward the toy chest as if intoxicated.

Bezzer, the aviator, and the gang shrunk back. They were accustomed to Jack's tantrums. But Jimmy's leaving for college evoked a new sense of dread. A full assault loomed near, so they scurried trembling to their usual alcoves.

An uneasy night stretched to an eerie daybreak. Absent was the commotion Jimmy stirred each morning rushing to avoid being tardy.

Bezzer peeked from behind the desk. The sun poured through the bedroom window. Searching for Jack, his eyes settled upon a blade larger than its holder. Both lay on the shredded pillow, the knife laying across Jack's chest.

Assuming he was asleep, Beezer signaled to the gang to dash toward the open door.

Exhausted, they ran. Hearing a familiar voice, they crept inside. Amelia, Jack's sister, sat at her vanity, reminiscing over the loss of her older brother's company.

Lisella, her purple-haired doll, sat next to the mirror. She loved Jimmy too, but knew to avoid his room less she end up losing the remaining hair Jack left her. She spotted the gang enter and flee under Amelia's bed. She would join them once Amelia left for school.

Theodore and Tobias filled her in on the night's horror.

Jack woke to an empty room. Remembering his life with Jimmy, he admitted that he loved him. He was a happy child who, like him, became an even happier teen.

But that friendship ended the day Grover grabbed Jack's head and gnawed the box. By the time that savage was ordered to exit the kitchen door, Jack's eye was torn; his head, ripped; and his smile, twisted. But Jimmy refused to see that, although Jack continued to tinker, hurt spread rapidly through his heart.

Things were about to change.

Scouring for the gang, years of cultivating tenuous alliances and barters surfaced. "Uncover yourselves. I'm in control now," Jack yelled. He jumped high into the air before landing on Jimmy's bed.

But no one responded. Jack climbed down and eased from Jimmy's room. All household members had left for their duties. He crept into Amelia's room.

"Run!" Lisella shouted, as Jack grabbed her hair and jerked her from under the vanity, cutting off the remaining strands. She managed to slip from his grasp and flee, catching up with the gang.

They hid until the family returned. Later that night while the family slept, Jack unleashed his fury.

Jack stood over father as he slept, ready to stake the knife in his head. A thunderous crash startled them, narrowly escaping the ceiling fan. Rushing to investigate, Jack knocked Amelia back. She fell unconscious down the stairs. The fire alarm screeched. Not waiting to see whether one actually ignited, they gathered Amelia and fled from the house.

In the weakening flames, Jack stood swinging the blade. "I'll destroy you all for ruining my happiness. Trashed by Mother. Ignored by Father. Backstabbed by Amelia."

Frowning, he cursed, hoping fire trucks were delayed while the gang frantically attempted to extinguish the flames.

That was the last straw. If they didn't retaliate, they'd forever live in fear. Arming themselves, all stood aiming weapons at the arsonist.

Jack cocked his head and spat in Lisella's direction as she stood with her cast iron skillet. Her shrill voice tore through his heart.

"Your vengeful scheme to vanquish us failed. How does it feel to know no one wants you. You're trash. You weren't even a good tinker box. Barely worked. That's why Jimmy discarded you."

His eyes caved. Steam escaped. What he liked about her, he couldn't recall. She wasn't even a real blonde. And the others, he knew secrets.

Jack braced himself against the front door. Trembling, his tinker box shuddered. Frightening lyrics rushed forth as the box turned bloodstained. Filled with rage, he realized the foes he once manipulated were now bonded against a common threat. He surveyed each, remembering their oaths not to rebel against him.

His voice squeaked. "Traitors! Promises made. Gifts exchanged. Is there no loyalty in this world?"

Staring down the barrel of Beezer's pistol, Jack broke off, his eyes shifting, gauging the threat. Voices from his past swirled as he glared at the gang but did not see. The words:

"He's grown past his usefulness. No one will pay. And the upkeep is best spent elsewhere,"
cemented themselves in his mind as the evening light faded. A loud thud. Then, hands crushed his small body until he could no longer breath. The lid shut on the receptacle and his life. He reached for a Jack-in-the-Box nearby before drifting to sleep.

Jack's hands flailed amidst his stand-off, desperately pleading, "You don't know what it's like to be dumped into the trash behind your home and left to die. I never wanted to be a child another person could hurt. Was that too much to thirst for love?" Jack screamed as he pushed the stop button on his tinker.

"It's too late. We knew the trash bin was your future. Even Grover abandoned you. Now, time to leave, or else!" Bezzer hissed.

Tobias' rope twirled as he stood atop his steed. Bezzer activated his laser. Theodore opened his tank's hatch. All inched forward.

In an excruciating scream, flames of green, putrid slimy mold formed. Jack dissolved. Lying in a heap, the tinker played, slowly, then choking. His face contorted as eye sockets burst. Blood gorged his skeleton head.

Jack rose slowly to a full teen stance, turned, then bolted from the house. Running down the street, he repeatedly sobbed, "I'm coming, Jimmy."