Jake Laments that James was the One He Could Not Save

      My Stepfather took it upon himself to have my Brother’s body shipped from Fiji to Norristown, Pennsylvania for the funeral and the wake to be performed there as well.

      I was sitting with my Stepfather in his study the day before the funeral.

      We talked about the various reasons why James had given up on building his own business and instead started to work for another steel fabrication company and was actually making a decent living for the first time since he left the Alaskan pipelines.

      I mentioned that I thought it was sad that James had never come up with the funds to build his own company – I did not mention to Jake that I had loaned James $5,000.00.

      Jake sighed, “Well it is sad that he never made it. I don’t know why… I had lent him $10,000.00 so that he could get licensed and bonded.

      Hearing this from Jake rocked me back in my seat.

      “When did you give him the money?”

      Evidently, from what Jake told me, James had borrowed the money roughly after he hit me up for funds. I sighed heavily, sadly, for I knew the shame and injury to his pride that if cost James to go to Jake for the funds… especially after being turned down by his own Father.

      Jake smiles a sad wry smile, “I guess that’s money down the tubes.”

      He sighed again and lamented over the fact that James was the one the he couldn’t save.

      This assertion both surprised me and angered me; because of he had the tone of a self-important savior who had come into an unfortunate woman’s life and had done everything in his power to mentor and rescue her children from the evils that life often brings.

      The truth was that compared to our biological Father Jake was a far sight better in that he never failed to provide food, clothing and shelter for my Mother and us – her three kids; but the fact that every half-assed penitentiary in most third world countries did the same for the convicts that they incarcerated.

      Aside from my Mother and Stepfather providing us with staples, and clothing and a house for us to live, Jake was woefully negligent regarding the necessity of attending to mentoring needs of the young human primates entrusted into his care.

      Whenever Lynn or James or I wanted any information as to how to invest our money or how to make our way in the world as he had learned to do – Jake was as closed mouthed as any Mafia Don. Jake rarely, if ever provided us with any insights with much of anything in life. Looking back I know this was due to a few realities – such as that he worked so much he was not often around and when he was he was not comfortable with interacting with us. Also, the fact was that he had no such interest. The only thing Jake provided for his wife first three kids was a good example that people should work hard long hours and live frugally – aside from that, we had to learn anything else on our own. 

      I was angered by his assertion because he actually believed this. I was galled by the fact that he actually made more attempts to be more of a mentor to his biological Son Geraldo and of course he was generous financially with his Son in many situations that he was not with us – his Stepchildren.   

      Although Jake did give more mentoring to his Son than he did us, he still lacked greatly in what Father’s should do with their children regarding mentoring and parental guidance.

      Jake lamented that the chain of events that had lead James into a life of alcohol and drug use was due to the fact that the desertion from our Father really fucked James up. I mentioned to Jake that James had always tried to win my Dad’s affection by emulating my Father’s partying lifestyle.

      Jake smugly asserted that James had acted as a teenager while he lived with him but he was at a loss as to when James started using drugs.

      “He couldn’t have been taking drugs I would have known. I would have been able to do something about it.”

      It was then I shared with Jake that James had been experimenting with drugs since the age of twelve. Jake sputtered in outrage, “Bullshit! I would have known!”

      I could not help but remember back when I was in high school when both Jake and his brother was convinced that I was abusing drugs because of my hyperactivity.

      It was then that I laid on him that he was not the attentive Stepfather that he imagined himself to be; but in fact he was inattentive due to his long hours away on business and his preoccupation with staying holed up in his room as he studied the art of becoming wealthy.

      I suppose in an attempt to hammer the truth of his lack of involvement with us as children, I reminded him that both he and his brother were wrong about my alleged drug abuse and so therefore it was not inconceivable that he was certainly wrong about James.

      As I took Jake through each of my observations he became increasingly agitated.

      Evidently he did not want to face the fact that he was in some ways as negligent as my own Father and as unaware of what had actually happened on his watch.

      He abruptly cut off this aspect of our conversation telling me that he had contacted a few of my Father’s relatives so that they could send word to him about the death of James. He also let them know that if my Father wanted, he could pay his respects to his Son. They only stipulation was that my Father was not invited to come to the main service, but would in fact were only allowed to pay his respects to James afterwards.

      I was amazed and more than a little touched that Jake would put aside his long-standing rancor towards my Father for even this occasion.

      Once again Jake sighed and wished that the money he had lent James would had helped to situate my Brother in a business life that would have alleviated most of his stress.

      Suddenly, at that second, it occurred to me that the money that my Brother had given to my Father to bail him out of his alleged tax debt had been loaned to him from both my Stepfather and a third of it from me.

      This realization rocked me mute and I could not help but remember all the times that our Father had refused to give mentoring or financial aid to me or my siblings. I could not help but remember that my Father had told us on more than a few occasions that he expected us to make it on our own and that relatives simply should not loan or give money to relatives, because it simply was not right and he love to empathically say that they’re were many reasons that it was not right.

      The thought that my Brother James handed over almost ten-grand to bail my Father out of a problem of his own creation and the expense of his and his families financial health made me sick to the core.

      The fact that my Father had not blinked or hesitated to drop hints to us for money (Like a fucking ton of bricks) and this made my head whirl and swim.

      I wanted to vomit.

      I didn’t say anything to Jake about where his or my hard earned money had actually gone.

      “Money I could have easily burned considering the likelihood of me recovering that money from my Father”, I thought.