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zombocomme · 13 days ago

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Between The Lines, Episode 5: I’ve got my ticket, and I’m a -goin’ home

Enjoy

SFW:PG/PG13: *mentions death, cancer, strained relationships, a father’s love, hardships implied/coming out trans, and some good ol’ fashioned crying

“But I'm a better man ,For having gone through it, Yes, I'm a better man, For having gone through” - Tear Down the House, by the Avett Brothers

🛤🏫🌾🚬🦇🕰✨️🫲🙂‍↕️🫱✨️🕰🦇🍻🌾🏫🛣

James Defroque and his son Jim sat together many miles away from the ministry, matching rocking chairs creaking softly on the wood planks of the manor’s veranda. Another warm sultry day in the south, the cicadas buzzing around them as Jim cracked open another cold beer, handing it to his father, both men content to watch the setting sun kiss the horizon goodbye, the light fading, going softly into the night. The day had been eventful, it had been one of James' good days, which were often enough to pretend everything was fine and he was just tired the other days. They had gone that afternoon joy riding in the golf carts through the peach orchards, Jimmy wearing his sunglasses spinning the wheels on the turns, nearly tipping the damn thing, both of them whooping and hollering like young men in the country enjoying the life they had created together, having only each other for a long time…

And yet time marched on, seeming to slip through their fingers all too soon.

James looked his age, and older somehow, despite his still youthful face. James had not chosen eternity when he became a full blooded vampire. Not many had the stamina to live forever, and many chose not to live that long. James had resigned himself a long time ago to the finiteness of a mortal life, albeit what would have been a long one… had it not been for the cancer in his body, slowly taking more than his healing factor could replenish. And he was losing this battle.

Jim looked a little older though not by much, with a gentlemanly streak of grey at his temples and dashing line of salt and pepper down his neatly trimmed beard.

He, like his father, had chosen to give up his eternity years ago, the exchange meant to bring his “Little Lottie”, Charlotte, one of his twins, from the other side, from the ferryman’s plane beyond the grave to this one. A choice he never regretted despite the knowledge that Copia and Millie were going to live forever, and he wouldn't, a real consequence he was reminded of daily as he spent his time treasuring his children and what time left he had with his father James.

James looked across the the little table beside him at his own son whom he had been finding every moment he could to bond with, and gave him a gentle smile, the long orange light surrounding the purple shadows of the oncoming night, “You look well son.” he said his voice a little more raspy than before, “The years have been kind to you”. Jim chuckled, “You’re not looking too bad yourself, considering,” he teased, lifting his beer.

James had become more pensive and sentimental as he loved on this borrowed time. He had a year left, maybe two. Without the healing factor of his vampirism, the cancer would have claimed him some years ago. But he could feel it in his bones, the way the sickness wormed its way into the warm dark places in his body, corrupting it cell by cell… he could count on one hand how many times he had regretted his decision to live the life of a mortal vampire.

Seeing his son now, looking much like he did at that age, stronger, younger, living a more fulfilled life in comparison, James ached with the realization that he didn’t have much longer to see where his son would go in life.

Where that life would lead. He wouldn’t see his grandchildren graduate and grow into the amazing people that they were inside. He wouldn’t see his greats come into the world either. No triple generation family photo would grace the walls of his beautiful home…

James had made the decision of mortality when he was a young man thinking it wise, banking on a long life that easily would have spanned a hundred and fifty years, but he never counted on the time he thought he had, being cut short. And now he was actively watching precious moments pass by… moments that he knew would end. It made them all the more precious…and also, all the more painful, that even on a good day like this one that he had enjoyed, it was sinking with the sun, a setting thing that he knew his eyes only had so long to watch happen again and again.

The insidious disease, its tendrils slowly spreading making his body more tired, and more achy, crying out with the need to rest, but rest be damned! He wouldn't sleep his life away, not what was left of it. Time once abundant now seemed cruelly limited. And he was determined to make the most of it.

His smile was bittersweet behind his glasses and mustache, the long sleeved button up and cozy sweater vest a shield against the sensations of chill that seemed to plague him these days, despite the warm June weather. He took a deep breath and sighed, savoring the scent of dusk, knowing it would be one of a numbered few left that he would experience, and in his ponderings, he reflected on what it meant. To live. To die. To go on the journey that follows the great sleep…

*Nihil was gone, as was Sister Imperator. And despite the ability of their ghosts to cling and humorously haunt the ministry, he knew he was the last of the old trio left really. And “the after” held no true promise that he too could return… or where he would even go… and it saddened him to know it, to know his son would someday make that journey also… Like looking in a mirror, Jim sat much like his father did on that porch, nursing a beer and rocking gently on his toes, a mirrored pose enjoying the summertime haze that the fading light left behind, thinking of better days, as night came in.*

James took a deep drag on his cigarette and spoke, the plume of smoke whisking away on the welcomed breeze, his voice low and rough, “You look a lot like me at your age,” he mused, studying his son’s face. “But you're stronger to be livin’ the life I could only ever dream of, a happy one hmm?” he chuckled, another plume of smoke rising into the warm night air. “Time is a curious thing isn’t it? It runs out so quickly, even when you think you have so much of it left.” He ashed the cigarette and put out the burning cherry in the clay ashtray he had kept around from when Jimmy had made it in art class once upon a time.

“Mm.” was all Jim could muster, the ring in his throat growing tighter at his father’s words. He knew his old man was going through it, and he didn’t want to tell him to stop. Stop hurting him, stop reminding Jim that he was about to lose the man he had always wanted to make proud and failed many times. The man who he looked up to, even if they hadn’t been close in his youth.

They had, only yesterday, it seemed, reconnected and seen life more fully for what it was, a gift, a thing to love that could transcend time and death. And yet, he felt his chest squeezing. He took another long gulp of his beer, finishing the dregs and reaching out to grab another. “It be that way don’t it” Jim said, a breath he knew he was holding refused to let go.

“True that,” James agreed, taking a sip of his own beer, smacking his lips. Everything tasted different now. He had his regrets. His failings. Things that had strained their relationship in the past. But like god knows the sparrow in the field, he knew his son. He had watched over him his whole life as best he could. He knew Jim was struggling to come to terms with the inevitability of it all, and he knew Jim had his own thoughts about his own mortality stewing in the background.

“Life doesn’t always play out the way we expect it to, does it?” James said with an air of finality. He glanced at his son, seeing the pain behind the forced smile. It hurt to see his son like this. Hurt him more than words could say…

He reached out and patted Jim on the shoulder, then gave him a firm squeeze as his eyes watered, his voice tight with emotion, cracked ever so slightly, “I’m proud of you, you know. You've raised a good family, and you’ve done well for yourself. And you found happiness. That’s all a father can hope for for his son.”

“Dammit Dad, if you make me cry again, I swear to god, I’m gonna eat that last brisket sandwich, ya hear?”

James chuckled, a smile breaking through his usually stern exterior. A welcome sight after all these years and one Jim knew he would only see so often before he wouldn’t anymore.

Jim sighed after a moment of their shared sniggering, James sighed with him, a triumphant air in his drinking the last of his beer, “Ya know, I’m gonna miss these nights”.

“Oh don’t you threaten me with that sammich, boy.” he said, his voice teasing, “Dyin’ or not I can still whip you!” Jim snorted on his beer and laughed, wiping the gathered tears that had been floating in his eye, his dad laughing heartily beside him.

They were even closer now, now that they shared the experience of parenthood, and found a measure of equality in their once strained relationship. But it was moments of levity like this that they realized they had always been close, belonging to the same silliness that so easily could connect between them.

“Yeah”, Jim said, “Me too.”

“Settin’ us down a spell, enjoying the purdy view, passing the beer, shootin’ the shit, ramblin’ on about life and things.” James said, sounding like his own late father who had painted the porch white and who planted the pretty flowers that edged along the veranda.

Jim’s throat tightened once more as the lingering light all too soon gave up its glamor to pale and fade, making room for the velvet cloak of night. The symphony of frogs and crickets humming together in the night life filled the air with song. He had so much to say and so little time to say it. Where his mind flooded with things to ask and talk about with his dad, words faltered in his throat, the fleeting nature of time weighing on them both.

Lantanas, bursting with color and light, hardy things that just seemed to grow and grow no matter how hands or weather abused them. This year they had come out more orange and pink, a color so sweet like a rainbow sorbet, so vivid like the horizon where red and orange light had given way to the pink and purple hues as the set sun had passed the horizon line, though its glowing light lingered to welcome the night in, warmly.

James finished his own beer, the can making a soft tining noise as he tossed it into the little paper bag in an empty planter where they had been keeping their empties in.

He let out a deep sigh, his gaze going out to the silhouettes of the sprawling Defroque peach orchard and the land beyond it. “There’s so much I still need to tell you, “ he said. “So much I want you to know.”

“So much…” Jim echoed, his voice thickening with emotion as he tried to hold back the tears that were spilling over now, trying in vain to keep them at bay.

James reached out and patted his son on the back, a gentle gesture of comfort he felt he had not done enough over the years, “It’s okay, son,” he said quietly. “Let it out. There’s no shame in tears.”

“Ain’t no shame, daddy I just hate cryin’ so much.” Jim sniffed, grunting as he tried to harrumph the pain away.

“I know. I know, "James said reassuringly, his hand still resting on Jim’s back. “It’s hard to show that kinda vulnerability. But son, crying is a natural thing. It doesn't make you weak. Not in the slightest.” He chuckled softly, “Hell, I’ve cried many-a-times in my day, even if you ain't seen it” he assured.

Jim leaned forward, feeling torn and raw.

*He should be comforting his dad, but it seemed to be going the other way around.*

The realization that there wasn’t much time left where he would have that luxury, of being comforted by his father’s hands, setting in. “No daddy I…I did.. I saw it a few times… damn near broke my heart…Matter of fact, it did… broke my heart as a boy even if I wasn't appreciative of how good I had it, how good you made it…”

*Knowing I done it. Knowing it was my fault you cried at night when you thought I was sleeping. Knowing I was the trouble...*

James looked at his son, his heart breaking a bit at the roughness in Jim’s voice. It killed him inside that they only had so many moments left like this one. But he wasn’t going to let this one slip by.

He reached up a hand, his grip firm yet gently, “Son, you have no idea how much you been a blessing to me. Even if you weren't always the most appreciative, you’ve grown into such an admirable man, and a wonderful father yourself despite the failings of me and mine… you broke the cycle of things that had a purpose but weren’t what you needed most, and now you’re being’ such a good daddy to Charlotte. To Ari/a. I couldn’t be more proud, If anything, that's my gift from you to me. Makin’ up for everything, I get to see that you made it in the end. Your babies have grown into fine young folks, and you're closer to them, more involved than I ever was to ya, and that's a testament to you appreciating your life enough to make it work. To make it better for them now. That’s what fathers do, mhm” he nodded.

Jim huffed a rueful laugh, “Oh bless your heart daddy…” Jim Rubbed his forehead, hating to tell his dad the truth about his life. “Lottie and I, well yeah, we’re like peas in a pod but Ari/a… we just don’t understand each other… Jesus Christ I wish I knew how to fix this…” Jim groaned defeatedly.

*The blowout he and his child, now “son”, both had earlier that summer had resulted in the kids being packed up and sent to their other dad’s place back in ministry valley for the rest of their summer… and now with the recent revelation how long James really had, Jim felt serious regret for letting his temper get the better of him, for sending them away, for not being the kind of person who could naturally understand and bond with his son the way he had with his other daughter… *

*It had felt easier when Ari/a was younger, when he just seemed a quirky, curious kid. But as he grew older and now with puberty starting, Ari/a felt more isolated and confused, prone to harsher moods and breakdowns that even Jim couldn’t handle. He felt like he was just another father failing his “son”. His son, who should be here with him and Little Lottie to spend what may be the last summer with him and their grandfather.*

James, who could see the signs of this certain hurt, who had seen the same struggle in his day between him and his Jimmy boy, pleaded urgently with his son, “No Jimmy. No. You’re not failing him, son.” he said, trying to keep his voice gentle, “You’re struggling, and that's okay! No parent is perfect, and no matter what you do, kids are always gonna need what you couldn’t give 'em. It’s a tale, old as time, ‘ain’t nothin’ happen here that didn’t happen there’, you ain’t the first and won’t be the last, and that’s sayin’ somethin’." James continued.

"We all make mistakes, boy, but the important thing is that you’re trying your best to be there for him now, accepting him for who he is even if it’s hard, loving him enough to try and protect him from even yourself. You love that boy with all your heart too, and that’s more than a lot of kids get. You may be closer to Charlotte, hell, that girl is like her momma, sunshine and cookies with cream, who doesn’t adore that little blonde angel." James began to choke up.

"But you and Ari/a, you have a new chance to get to know him... As father and a ‘son’ now, and that's priceless. You have a new chance to find love with each other, so that you get to have moments like we have now, sooner rather than later, when it's too late. You got time, son, don’t waste it settin’ on what you can’t change…” Except, Ari/a was so much like Jim. the same need, the same hurt, the same disappointment, and the same struggle bounced around that boy's head, just like it had for Jim when he was Ari/a's age...

Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, sniffing. He had been pushing the reality of the situation out of the way for a sense of fleeting sanity. The news about his father’s cancer had been shocking, to say the least. And his son trying to find himself, his sister on his side, it had felt like no one was on Jim's side. He felt a similar feeling of isolation and loneliness that had more in common with his son than he thought. And this time, James was right about that. He and Ari/a had something important in common. And now he felt guilty for sending the kids away when he should have let them stay, and tried to find another way to make life work with his dad’s growing needs in his frailty from his illness.

But he had been at his wits end a long time. He and Ari/a had said things to each other they shouldn’t have, and while he didn’t want to admit it out loud, he had been in the wrong. All he wanted right now was to pull his son into his arms and kiss those dark long curls on his head, and hold him close the way he wanted to hold his own dad right now. To say sorry. To comfort him. To make amends before life got too short or too complicated to do it in time… The feeling of a father slipping away in their lives was something he and his son had in common now. But more than anything, he wanted to see his son, happy; Jim wanted to Ari/a to know he was safe. He was loved. more than anything in the whole wide world...

*It was like trying to live with a hole in his shoe…something he walked with that made him feel raw and worn out. But despite how hard it would be to deal with it all, he wished now more than ever he had his own family gathered round him so he could hold on to them tight and never let go. James watched the emotions play out on his son’s face. Even with this pain of loss and grief looming, Jim was growing… his Jimmy boy was appreciating his life because of him. Jim was realizing how fleeting time it could be because, well, James was dying…and in a way, that comforted the older man, that at least his own ending was a reason for his son to find a new beginning, that it would bring the family closer, that his final lessons to Jim were going to be the ones about life that really mattered, “To live like you’re dyin’;” as an old song once put it…*

“I just feel like I blew it and now… now I’m praying the kids *want to come down for Christmas.” Jim winced as he felt the possibility of his son choosing to stay away punching him in the gut, knowing this may be the last one the whole family could get, and this time next year, his own daddy would be gone, or at the very least, on his way out… Christmas might be the last time James would have enough “good days” to enjoy with his family.

“You didn’t blow anything away, Jimmy boy,” James said sternly, “Life’s full of mistakes, hmm? ‘Wish-a-could-a done it different’, ain't no shortage of that when you're looking back… it’s what we do to mend them afterwards that matters.” He paused, his voice cracking slightly, “And your beautiful family is lead by your example more than you realize. They are loving, they are kind, they are forgiving, something I didn’t teach as much of and that *I wish-a could-a given more of to you… even if tensions are high, I got no doubt they'll come down, and we’ll have a gorgeous Christmas. Y'all need each other. I need ‘em too… and whos gonna tell a dyin’ man no.” he said, chuckling hopefully, trying to rouse Jim from the heartache he was carrying.

Jim reached up, holding his dad’s hand warm on his shoulder, feeling every vein and wrinkle, trying to memorize it, his emotions spilling over at the beautiful and painful truth of his father’s words, that felt like a blessing over his heart. His eyes squeezed and he felt his breath huff and hitch. James had seen this look many times… and he moved to hug his son…

*Because no matter how old he was, the young man across from him… that would always be his little Jimmy boy…a boy who needed his Daddy now more than ever. Even if he didn’t want to need him, James knew what Jim needed… And who could tell this dying man no…*

James wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him into a tight embrace. He held him close, as if trying to hold back the hands of time with all his might.

This was his son, a little boy who’d grown into a young man, a brother to the other people in Milagro’s life, a husband who cherished Copia with all his heart the way James should have cherished his own late wife. Jim, who had become a wonderful father, playful, wise, and while strict, emanated love for his children in every way, in every moment he could. Something James hadn’t taught him, but that he was proud Jim had figured out before it was too late to *see him do it.

The little boy, who had become quite a man, yet no matter the years, the bond between father and son would always remain, because they both had watered and cared for that seed. And Like the lantanas, no matter what life had thrown at them, or what mistakes they had made, that love was stubborn and hard to kill, and he was grateful for that, as he kissed his son’s head.

“It’s okay Jimmy my boy,” his voice a whisper choked with motion, “ It’s okay my boy. My sweet boy… Daddy’s here, I’m here, I ain't gone nowhere yet!” he cried, feeling Jim cling to him even tighter, soft sobs escaping to muffle in James' fleece vest, staining it with tears that had been needing to come out for a long, long time.

James held his son tightly, rubbing small circles on his back, “Shhh, it’s okay, “ He murmured his own tears falling on the soft dark hair at his lips, the way it had felt when he held Jim so small once… his mind wandered to that time, his baby boy so small and in need of his undying love. But the salt of those tears reminded him that he was here and now, in this moment, with his son, the way he had been all his life, even if he hadn’t been perfect at it, he had always been ready to be by Jim’s side through it all.

“You’ll never walk alone, Jimmy. Maybe it feels like it does, but you’re not. Life hasn’t left you alone, ya hear me? You got a whole family that loves you… And I’ll always be here, my boy, if only in spirit when I leave this tired body. Love don’t die, Jim. And that will never change, ya hear me, won’t never change.” James said, cupping Jim's' saddened face to look at him. Both men crying, broke each other's hearts, and yet there was comfort in their shared grief.

James pulled Jim in again, hushing him quietly, rocking him gently in the tranquil night, letting Jim lean on him…

“I’m here Jimmy boy. I’m still here. And I ain’t going anywhere, not in the ways that count.”

They sat together as the night sounds seemed to hold space for them, the quiet settling in, like a protective blanket as James looked up at the winking stars. James was there to offer his son the gift of a steady presence in the face of what was probably his greatest pain, in the face of the unknown dark that would take him from his boy, and eventually, take Jim from Ari/a too. “I’m here for you Jim… no matter what happens or how one story ends to beget another. No matter the squalls and storms. No matter what comes our way… I’m here. And I love you.”

“I love you too daddy,” Jim's breath shuddered. He wished his dad’s arms would never leave from being around him.

“I love you more than you know,” James murmured as he continued rocking Jim softly in his arms, “You’ve always been my boy. My little boy. My everything. I’ve never stopped loving you, son. Not for a second. And I never will. Not even if I'm not here physically. My love for you is forever.” James pulled back slightly, holding Jim out to look him over, and take in every detail in that face that mirrored him in all the ways that mattered and more, “You understand that, right? I’m here for you. Even when I’m gone, My love, my spirit, will always be with you, winking at you like them stars.”

Jim nodded, feeling like his heart was both healing and breaking at the same time.

James put a hand to Jim’s cheek, his touch soft and gentle in the way he wished he had been more often in his time, “You're going to be okay Jimmy” he smiled softly, a thumb brushing a rivulets of tears away, “Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But one day, you’ll look back and realize you were stronger than you thought, and you’ll live long enough to see the fruit of that labor. I have confidence in you, son. More than you could ever imagine.”

Jim’s eyes gazed up at his dad, framed against a crown of starlight. It felt like a familiar moment back in time when he had been a boy. In tears like this, his daddy had cupped his son's face and smoothed out his hair, wiping away his tears the way he was doing now.

Daddy had been a super-hero then. A person who could make everything better when he was little. Even when he and his dad fought, even when he ran away from home, he always came back, his dad welcoming him home like a prodigal son every time. Some called it enabling. James called it ‘love unconditional’.

Jim was suddenly also seeing himself from Ari/a’s eyes, his dad a glimpse into what he would look like later in life. Ari/a had once looked up at him this way. And the little boy in Jim watched as before his eyes his dad had gotten older, frailer, but despite the grey in his hair, the wrinkles in his face, the smile lines of a life well loved and lived, the frowny ones of grief where love was left persevering, there was a timelessness that looked at him from those old eyes, that comforted him with their familiarity, And for a moment, it felt like maybe… just…maybe… everything *would be okay.

James looked down at his son, his eyes filled with the same hope of timeless love. Age may have brought its tell-tale signs with it, but his affection was no shallower for it. Holding his son like this, it was as if no time had passed at all.

“Everything will be okay Jimmy…I promise you that.”

Later, as they closed up the house for the night, Jim’s phone rang, and he answered it. Ari/a was in trouble and needed him. But James needed him to. But James was immediately ready to go with Jim back to the valley, to do all he could to save his son, and his son’s son…

When Jim hung up the phone, he looked at his dad and the house the Defroque family had held stewardship over for generations. A monument full of memories and strength. He saw his father as part of it, a man who was as much a part of the place as the land it stood on.

“Daddy, we may not be back here for… a long time.”

*If you come with me, you may never see this palace again.*

James' eyes were steady and unwavering as he looked back at his son, a resolute fire flickering in their depths, “I know, and it breaks my heart. And I’m a-commin’, by and by, I’m a-commin’ with you, whether you like it or not” he smiled.

His expression faltered a bit as his gaze swept over the house, over the walls and rooms that held lifetimes of memory that had become such a comfort to him in his last days. This house had seen their family through its ups and downs, providing shelter and strength during the hardest of times. To leave it behind, to potentially never return… It was a painful bittersweet realization. His gaze fell to Jim’s who wore a pained expression knowing what his father was giving up to come support him in fighting for his own family. But James wouldn’t have it, no sorrow for earthly things lost.

“In the end Jimbo, you come in this world and leave it the same…naked as ya came, none of this, none of this goes with you” James said, gesturing around them, “ Defroque house and its legacy was only ever meant to leave you, the next generation with every opportunity I could give. You're doing the same for you and your children now. This house was never what the Defroque name stood for. It stood for unity in the darkest of times. It stood for getting our hands in the work for love and family. The house that Defroque built ain't in all this stuff and things, boy. It’s in the work for the love of our family that built it. Home ain't a house son. It’s where your love belongs. It’s where you set your roots, it’s where your heart builds a “you” shape in the lives of those you love. We’re goin’. Together. And that’s that. You've been building that legacy since you stepped up to be the man I taught you to be and more, something far beyond me, and I’ll be with you to see it through. Even unto to the end.”

Jim’s heart ached as he listened to his father’s words but he knew the truth in them. The Defroque house was more than a structure, more than the symbol of their family’s heritage and legacy. “House Defroque” was anywhere one lived, the name a symbol of his father’s father’s blood on trails broken and lives known. Something He would share with his children, somehow…somehow…

Jim smiled gratefully, appreciating the sacrifice his dad was making for him. One he gladly accepted despite the circumstances. One more joy ride out to the valley. One more adventure with his old man, to get his family back. In that moment, he saw life in his father’s eyes, his eyes twinkling like stars, standing tall and proud as the house, no, as the *home he had built in his love. “I couldn’t do this without you, “he said quietly. “You’ve always been my rock, dad. Our rock” he said, his eyes glancing at the family pictures where his own family photos were among them.

*One in particular, of Jim during the first few months of his babies’ lives, looking at the camera, clearly sleep deprived but smiling, the happiest man on earth in that moment, in nothing but a white t-shirt and boxer shorts; Jim held a swaddled Charlotte in one arm and Ari/a in his lap, his free hand holding a bottle to his baby’s lips. Charlotte was fast asleep in his embrace, and Ari, his eyes ever wide and observing, was blinking up at his dad, the camera flash highlighting the way, that even back then, Jim’s babies, the way Ari/a loved, both their daddy. Felt loved and safe in his arms, as they should. It was a picture centered proudly next to a similar one of James cradling a baby Jimmy in his lap. The moment captured the patriarch as he cooed over his only son.

The warmth of that moment leading to his own as a father, made Jim realize that his dad was right. James would always be there with him, in him, in all the ways that mattered.. And now, he was going to go make things right, he was going to be there for his own son in a way that a good father should. James' chest swelled with pride as he took his place behind his son, Jim clutching the phone with a fire burning in his chest, and a determined look on his face, a smile playing on his features as he felt the strength of every generation in his blood. “All right Daddy. Let’s go, let’s go get the kids back.”

At that moment, house Defroque had never stood taller…

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