Chapter 47

Jackson

“Sam,” I called from the window of my pickup.

“Jackson?”

“It’s me again, buddy. Your mom’s at the hospital, otherwise she’d have been here.”

As Sam got closer to the truck I could see that there was some blood on his lip. It was bruised and swollen. His eyes were red too, like he’d been crying.

I didn’t say anything as he climbed into the cab next to me. It was obvious he’d been in a fight but I didn’t know enough about it to know how to broach the subject.

As we pulled out of the school parking lot I saw a group of four boys, bigger and older than Sam, pointing at him and laughing. Sam looked down at the ground.

“Is that them?” I said.

Sam looked up at me. “What?”

“Are those the cocksuckers that gave you the fat lip?”

He looked shocked at my language, but I needed him to know that I wasn’t the type of adult he was used to. He could talk straight with me. I wasn’t gong to judge him for anything. I was his friend. If he needed to get something off his chest, he was welcome to. Hell, I knew all too well what it was like not to have anyone to talk to.

He shrugged.

I didn’t push it.

I drove toward Main Street and put some distance between us and the school.

“You hungry?” I said.

He shrugged. He was upset. It broke my heart to see him like that. He’d been so full of joy when I dropped him off in the morning.

“I’m starving,” I said, even though I wasn’t. “I’m just going to go through this drive-thru up here and grab something, if that’s all right with you.”

He nodded. The drive-thru would give me some time to talk to him. I knew there was some advice I could give him to get this issue taken care of. I’d been in my share of fights. I knew what it was like to be an outsider. Whatever he was going through, it could be fixed.

We pulled up to the order window and looked over the menu.

“I’ll take a root beer, large fries, burger.”

“Anything else?”

“Lots of ketchup. Throw a few extra packets in there. I can’t eat fries without it.”

I looked at Sam. “You’re up, buddy.”

He sighed, but leaned over me to see the menu.

“Chicken snackers,” he said.

“He’ll have the chicken snackers,” I repeated, “a large box, with fries.” I turned to Sam. “You want a root beer or something to wash that down?”

He shrugged.

“A root beer too,” I said.

When we got our food I didn’t take Sam straight home. I needed to get to the bottom of what had happened at school and I knew if I took him home he’d disappear into his room or something.

There was a lookout point above the town where I used to take girls when I was in high school. I drove up there and parked at a spot overlooking the entire valley. You could see for fifty miles from up there, clear to the ocean.

“You see down there, where the river splits?” I said.

He was opening his food but looked up to see. “Yes.”

“That’s my daddy’s vineyard.”

“All of it?”

“All those slopes leading down to the river. The cliffs there. All of it.”

“I thought your dad died,” he said.

“He did. I guess it’s mine now.”

Sam nodded.

The sun was beginning to set and it was bathing the valley in pink-tinged light. The river looked like a ribbon of light. It was beautiful.

Something came over me, an overwhelming sense of love, and I said probably more than I should have. I should have spoken to Faith first, but Sam was my son, I was his father, and I had to take the reins at some point.

“And after me, it will be yours.”

Sam looked up at me, his bright eyes like jewels made by angels, and he smiled. He knew. Somehow, without anyone ever telling him, he knew everything. It all made sense to him. It was a miracle. How’d he know? I was sure Faith hadn’t told him anything about me being his daddy.

“I know,” he said.

I put my hand on his arm softly.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I understand,” he said, and he spoke so certainly I knew he understood everything. “I’m your son.”

I couldn’t help it. A single tear rolled over my cheek.

“I’m your dad,” I said.

And then we gripped each other like two people trying to survive a shipwreck in the sea. I don’t know if I was hugging him or he was hugging me. It seemed to last forever.

It was Sam who broke the silence.

“Can we go there?” he said.

“The vineyard?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think your mother would let us?”

He nodded. “I know she would. She’s nuts about you.”

I laughed. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” he said. “She thinks I don’t notice things. But I notice.”

“That’s a good skill,” I said.

Sam nodded.

“We’ll go down into the valley,” I said, “but I’ll warn you now, if my brothers are around, they’re tough guys. They might shock you. They’re not civilized like you and me.” I winked.

Sam laughed. “You mean, Grant, Forrester and Grady. I know them.”

“So you do,” I said. “I forgot about that.”

“They’re my godfathers.”

“Are they?”

“Yes, and I wish I was tough like they are.”

“You’re plenty tough,” I said.

He shook his head. “Not tough enough.”

“No one’s tough enough to stand up to a group of guys,” I said. “I saw those guys making faces back in the parking lot. There must have been at least four of them.”

Sam nodded.

“They give you a hard time?”

“Yeah.”

“How come?”

He shrugged.

“Well, let me tell you a few things,” I said. “First off, it doesn’t matter why they’re picking on you. Jerks like that will always find a reason. Hell, guys like that, they don’t even need a reason. You wear red sneakers, they’ll pick on you for that. You wear a Lakers hat, they’ll use that. You switch your sneakers to white, take off your hat, they’ll pick on you for that too.”

“So there’s no solution?”

“Oh, there’s a solution, it’s just not what you think it might be.”

“I have to beat them up,” he said, “don’t I?”

I laughed. “Hold on cowboy. If I remember correctly, there were four of them?”

“Yes.”

“And they looked a little older than you.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“So how in the hell would you be able to beat them up? This isn’t Karate Kid. Trying to use force will just get you in trouble.”

“But it would solve the issue.”

“It might, for a while,” I said. “But trust me, you don’t want to go down that road.”

“Did you go down that road?”

“Yes I did,” I admitted. “I’ve gotten into fights that took me years to settle. Sometimes you can’t help it.”

“And what happened?”

“Well, sometimes I won. Sometimes, the other guy won. That’s how fighting is.”

“So what should I do?”

“You finished with those fries?” I said.

He nodded. I grabbed them in my fist and ate them. Then I took all his trash and got out of the car and walked over to the trash can. He got out of the truck and followed me.

We were alone in the parking lot. No one else was up there. It was a really beautiful evening.

“Okay, Sam,” I said, facing him. “I’m going to show you how to look after yourself.”

“All right,” he said, raising his dukes as if we were about to start a boxing lesson.

I smiled. “There’s a secret language that exists, and if you can speak that language, no man will ever give you trouble.”

“No one?”

“Well, way less people. If you know how to speak this language, you’ll be able to avoid ninety-nine percent of issues you might get into with other men.”

“Am I a man?” he said.

I nodded. “You’re a man, Sam. And you want to set yourself up so that other men know who you are, know what you stand for, and respect you. If you can do that, you won’t have any trouble from them.”

“I won’t have trouble with anyone?”

I laughed. “Oh, you’ll have trouble, but it will mostly come from women. And let me tell you, that sort of trouble is far more dangerous than what any man can do to you. But you don’t have to worry about that for a few years, yet. Right now, your trouble is with these punks in your school, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“So the first thing you have to do, is hold yourself tall.”

I stood up straight to show him. “See me. Shoulders back, head straight up, chest forward.”

He stood up straight. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” I said. “Now take in a deep breath.”

He took in a deep breath.

“You see how that makes you feel? Like you’re taller, stronger, ready for action?”

He nodded.

“The way you feel is crucial. If you feel strong, people will notice. If you feel weak, people will pick up on that too.”

“So feel strong?”

“Exactly. Believe in yourself. Believe that no one can hurt you. Because, the truth is, Sam, no one can hurt you. The only person who can hurt you is yourself. Other kids might hit you, but you’re the one who decides if that’s a problem or not.”

“It’s a problem,” he said.

I laughed. “Only if you think it is, buddy.”

He looked confused.

“Look,” I said. “All your life, people are going to do shit to you that you don’t like. Your boss is going to ride your ass. The government is going to charge you taxes. The cops are going to pull you over. Your old lady is going to break your balls.”

He nodded.

“You can’t stop all of them from doing what they’re going to do. That’s beyond your control. The only thing you control is your reaction to it. Strength, courage, a steady hand. All those things come from within yourself. They come from your mind, not your environment.”

He nodded.

“So once you’re centered, once you know who you are, where you stand, and how you feel about all the shit that’s going on in the world, you’re already there. You’re already safe.”

“Really?”

“Basically. The only thing left is to make sure the other guys around you know it.”

“Know what?”

“Know that you’re steady. Know that you’re centered, strong, sure of yourself.”

“How do I make them know that?”

“One word, Sammy boy.”

“What is it?”

“Attitude. It’s all in the attitude. You get the attitude right, and you’ll never have to get in another fight in your life.”

He nodded. He was taking it all in. I knew he was. It was basic stuff, stuff he’d learn on his own given time, but it was also stuff I wished someone had told me when I was his age. I’d spent my entire life getting into fights, and they’d cost me dearly. They’d cost me twelve years. It was only with years of experience that I realized if I played the attitude card right, I wouldn’t have to get into all the fights.

“And what if it doesn’t work?” he said.

I nodded. “You’re right, Sam. Sometimes it won’t work.”

“So what then?”

I shrugged. “That’s when you’ve got to kick someone’s ass.”

He laughed.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you down to that vineyard. I’ll show you around.”

We got back in the truck and made our way out of the expensive neighborhood he lived in, down into the valley. As we pulled down the driveway of my daddy’s farm, I felt as if my life had come full circle. I was back where I’d started, only this time, I had my boy with me.

I showed him around. Showed him the vines, how they grew. Told him their history, how our forefathers had taken them over on boats from the old country. I showed him the house. He said he’d help me fix it up and I made him promise not to tell his mother about it. I wanted to surprise her with it.

The brothers weren’t around so it was just the two of us.

Afterwards, I took him home.

I pulled into a gas station on the way. “Go wash your face,” I said. “We don’t want your mom seeing that blood. She’ll never let me pick you up again.”

He touched his face. There was a little dried blood from where the bullies had hit him.

“You’ll remember what I told you?”

“It’s all about attitude,” he said. “The tougher I act, the less I’ll have to fight.”

“That’s my boy,” I said.