Janie

By Emilie Holmes

Prison was the last place I thought Id end up. Sure, I had had my fair share of illegal actions. But hey, who hasnt? With the beginning and end of my story, I will say the same sentence: You never think you know a person.
The year was 1979. I was a young, ambitious, and the most determined son of a bitch Italian youd have ever met.

Until I met Janie Parks.

If Id known what I know now, I wouldve taken that .38 caliber from under my bed, and shot the life out of her myself. I dont know if I wouldve had the guts or if I could even go through with shooting Janie, after all weve been through. I sure as hell wouldve traded places with her though, I was in prison, and shes six feet under.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499039061

Emilie Holmes

Emilie Holmes is a recent high-school graduate with ambitions up to the sky, including her first novel, Janie. Her creativity is what powers her goals daily, ranging from composing music, to writing poems and short-stories. Janie is one of Emilie’s most proud accomplishments, as she had written this book during the young age of sixteen.

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Copyright © 2014 by Emilie Holmes.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014911020

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-4990-3907-8

Softcover   978-1-4990-3908-5

eBook   978-1-4990-3906-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 06/13/2014

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Prison was the last place I thought I’d end up. Sure, I had had my fair share of illegal actions. But hey, who hasn’t? With the beginning and end of my story, I will say the same sentence: You never think you know a person.

It all started when I was just 17 year’s old, living in Philadelphia. The year was 1979. I was a young, ambitious, and the most determined son of a bitch Italian you’d have ever met. I had everything to begin with: my old man’s sheet metal company -Marino Metals-, a Temple University acceptance letter, and all the tail I could handle. I was set, I was ready to go, and I was going to make sure my life had everything I ever wanted- and more.

Until I met Janie Parks.

I went back to the day I met Janie Parks every time I thought about where I was, and there in that godforsaken cell was every day. I had just arrived from my Brother Vincent’s fourth marriage ceremony. Yeah, the guy can get as many women as he wants, but he can never tie them down long enough for more than a couple of years at best. Me? I hated the idea of marriage, but I’ll get back to that later.

Anyway, my first stop from the shitty ceremony was the 7/11 on South Broad Street. I hadn’t had a single smoke through the whole goddamn thing, from what little respect I had for the bride. Or maybe it was pity. Either way, I was really jonesing for a pack.

The middle-aged Russian who ran the place had been a buddy of my old man’s, so it was always cool with him to let me buy cigarettes even though I was 17. The two of them had shared a cell together while doing time for various offenses; B&E, stealing, arson, etc. You know, petty shit basically. Although, I sure as hell had never wanted to get into jail time because I thought it would be the end of me. What nice girl would want to marry trash that’s been to prison? And then everyone’s mind drifts to the same, worldly thought: sodomy. Of course, that wasn’t always my initial thought because Eddie had always beaten the crap out of anyone who’d made the comment or suggestion. He’d always denied it, either being the doer or the done.

He never got time for it, but he often mixed with drugs. Whatever they were, I was never sure. I had been too young to actually realize what he was doing. Every mistake he made, everything that made him into who he is today, always made me want to do the exact opposite. So if I wanted a buzz I’d tap into his liquor cabinet or I would smoke, which was mostly menthol cigarettes but also included marijuana.

Eddie was 38 when he was sent away, and I was 6. He was only gone for around two years if I remember right, but those were the longest two years I had had when I reached the age 17. High-school years couldn’t fathom what my mother and I went through during that time.

Like the scum he is, he left her with nothing. Not a dime or drop of cash. She’d already worked one job, and then she had to work another just to get us by. I wanted to provide for her, because I couldn’t stand to see her in the misery she was in. But I was too young, and there was no way I could’ve slapped down more than a few dollars.

I always try to think of everything happening for a reason. I suppose part of that is because of my mother- she felt that way, too. I sure as hell couldn’t have seen the reason then, but now my life has expanded in such ways I never thought possible. So now, I tell myself that what happened then, prepared me for now.

It used to impress the ladies like hell when they saw me pull a smoke out, hold it between my lips and light it. All the while, trying my damndest to lock eye contact and not look like an idiot by lighting the air instead of the cigarette. I could never understand why my smoking a damn cancer stick hit them so hard, but I thought, O.K, I’ll never quit.

As I shoved the 7/11 door open with my shoulder, I held my cigarette up to my mouth, trying to get it to light. To my surprise, it had begun pouring rain while I’d been inside. I started to wonder to myself how I could not have possibly heard the rain from inside the store, since it’s built like a damn shed.

But my thoughts came to an abrupt halt.

I couldn’t help my instincts but to look up, as the long-legged, black-haired beauty stepped out of the common yellow taxi. Nothing was common about her though, she was definitely a looker. A one of a kind woman you only see in them photo-shopped magazines.

She was re-arranging her top, completely unaware of my eyeballing. Her long hair was drenched, and her body mouth watering. It made me want to see what she’d look like standing in the shower, with me behind her.

I almost felt my middle grow at the way her breasts contoured to create such a perfectly molded shape against the cotton of her shirt. If it hadn’t of been raining, I may not of even noticed she wasn’t wearing bra, but her nipples were standing at such full attention it was hard not to notice. I’d wished I were the one who had made them that way.

That’s when she finally took notice of me gaping at her. I must’ve looked like a goddamn idiot. Here I was, lighter up to my cigarette- hanging half out of my mouth- and my eyes bulging out of my head. She didn’t care though, the way some girls would’ve. If you didn’t want me to look, then why’d you put them on display? I always wanted to ask. I’d be earning myself a slap in the face though if I went through with it.

But I could tell this chick liked it, she liked the recognition. Although I was sure she was used to it. I have a way about the ladies, I can always tell when they’re attracted- and when they’re single. While I was trying to form the right words to say, she spoke first.

Do I know you? she furrowed her brow in confusion.

Oh, uh, no I don’t think so. Would you like to? I gave her my best phony eyebrow raise and opened my arms at my sides invitingly, hoping to break the ice. I did it in the most faux romantic way, too. It worked. She gave a soft laugh, and shook her head in amusement at me. I was glad I wasn’t coming across as a creep to her, but then again, I’ve always had a way with the ladies.

You do a good impression of that, you know.

That so?

She nodded her head, and gave me a jaw-dropping smile.

So here I was, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, at 10:30 P.M, outside a convenience store. It sounds like I’m describing one of my high-school nights with my buddies, except for one part: I was standing here with God’s sexiest creation, while the rain drizzled over us- especially her. I mean, I looked like a drowned rat, but she looked fantastic.

Normally I wouldn’t have been so comfortable with a woman I just saw coming out of a taxi, but there was an indescribable connection between us. I knew she wasn’t going to be like the other girls I had been with.

I motioned for her to come into the store with me so we could get out of the rain. Instead, she told me about this great bar/grill she knows that stays open late. She suggested we go for a drink, after she picked up what she needed from the store. I was all over the idea, but I made myself come off as casual. As if I always meet a stranger, have a great connection with them, then go for drinks at a place I’d never even heard of.

Women can make you do the craziest things. They just hold this certain kind of power over you, that when they ask you to do something, you just go to do it. But goddamn it, I was dying to hear more of her, to see more of her.

I whistled for the nearest cab, and I opened the backseat door for her, partly because I wanted to be a gentleman, but I also wanted a take on her ass. I hadn’t seen it yet, but I’ll be dammed if it wasn’t perfection.

Her ass did not fail me.

The ride to the restaurant- which for the life of me I cannot remember- wasn’t an easy one. Oh sure, the place was only a few blocks away, but I was sitting next to her. I could feel the heat radiating off her body we were so close; the electric fire that burst throughout my insides when our bodies would accidentally touch. I decided to break the tension by exchanging casualties, which we hadn’t even got to yet.

Her name was Janie. Janie Parks.

She told me she worked at The Greene Turtle as a waitress. She was older than me by two years, which I’ve always found irrevocably sexy. Even if it’s only a small age gap, older women were almost always better in the sack than girls my age. Plus, they weren’t like the whiny, neurotic chicks that my age group could have. I sat in awe of her when she described the time she’d gone white water rafting. I’d never seen a girl gush so much about something I actually wanted to do myself. I could tell she was a fan of adrenaline rushes, which made us a perfect match.

You like to take risks, huh? I asked.

Well, why else do you think I’m going out with you? she flashed a teasing smile.

Hmm, I pondered the thought. I don’t know. I thought it was because I’m just way too sexy to resist.

She thought about what I said for a few seconds, although I didn’t mean for her to take me seriously.

I’m not sure, really. I’d like to think the reason was more than your vast sexiness though, Janie grinned. I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t sure if I should take it as a compliment or what, so I just smiled back at her.

She finished her story after my little interruption, and by then we were heading into the place. The warm breeze of the night had me aching to touch and envelope her around me. I was starting to get nervous. Although we had a connection, at least that I felt, and we were making good conversation, I was afraid once we started talking more she wouldn’t be so interested in me. At that point in my life, I had been with my fair share of girls, but that’s the thing- they were girls. Janie was a full blown woman from just the way she carried herself.

The bar/grill was decent enough; not too many people were there. Only a few handfuls of parties were scattered around. Of course, that could’ve been because it was a Tuesday night. We found a secluded booth toward the back of the restaurant. I had suggested the open spots at the bar, but she wanted privacy. I wasn’t one to object.

Women often love to talk about themselves, which I never have a problem with, but I found Janie asking about me more than sharing about her. There wasn’t much to say about me then, but I wanted to keep the conversation going. So I thought of everything I possibly could; I started to tell her about my plans for the future.

Well in a couple months, I’ll be going to Temple University. I boasted. No one in my family had gone to college- that I knew of at least. Plus, I wanted to impress her. To show her that I wasn’t a lazy bum and I could make something of myself.

Really? She was definitely interested.

Nah, I just wanted to see what you’d say. I began to crack a smile when she looked at me dumbfounded, not really knowing how to respond.

She laughed and playfully slapped my arm, You’d better be joking! I thought you were being serious, Janie slightly rolled her eyes and sighed deeply. That’s great you’re going.

Her touch had made my heart race, and that moment alone made it hard for me to continue my usual easiness. Are you being sarcastic with me? I acted as if I were offended.

No! I really mean it. I guess I just don’t hear of a lot of people I know going to college, She took a sip from her drink. I could tell she was being sincere. So what are you going for anyway? she asked.

Well, I’m not entirely sure of what I wanna do yet, I hesitated. When I was a kid I wanted to be a dentist, no joke.

I wasn’t lying either. I really did want to do that back then, but the thought of it now sickened me. Most kids hate the dentist, but I used to love my weird doctor. He always said the corniest shit, but I never had to fake a laugh. Usually I’d be laughing because of how damn corny his jokes were though, and I’m not sure if he even knew the difference.

She shook her head dramatically. Oh God, I could never do that. I hate going to the dentist in general, and the last time I went was when I had braces back in middle school, She raised her eyebrows at the memory. I couldn’t imagine doing that for my job.

I tried to imagine her in braces, but I couldn’t. She was so damn perfect, and anything less than that was unimaginable on her. Yeah, I know. I don’t know how I ever wanted that, I thought about telling her the dentist story, but I was afraid I’d bore her. But I’m just applying as Undecided for now. You know, get my General Eds. outta the way.

Hm, she shook her head and took a drink. So you’ve no idea of what you want to be when you grow up? She gave me her head turning smile.

I never told her my age, but I knew I looked old enough to be 20. I was glad she thought I was at least 18 though, because of me having cigarettes. I knew she wasn’t in high school; it was just the way she seemed so independent and confident. I laughed, then answered, Well, I’ve always liked writing to be honest. I thought of doing something like that, but I never thought I’d actually make it somewhere, I thought I was getting too discouraging for her taste, so I had to switch the conversation on to her. What about you? You got any plans for college? I asked.

She sighed and slumped back into her seat, Never enough money. My families always been on the poor side, and, well, I don’t make much money more than to live on with my pay.

I felt the urge I had with my Mother when my Dad left her for prison- I wanted to provide. I could tell she was embarrassed of herself, so I attempted to cheer her up.

Well, you’re awfully gorgeous, you could be a model, I winked at her.

She grinned. She definitely loved compliments, which I was full of for her. She caught me off guard though, by saying this, I’ve heard that one before. And thanks for the compliment, and I’m sure I could do it, but I don’t want to make a living by something so superficial. You know what I mean?

I do. I think you’re more than that.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes.