I Met the Boy Named Jack

By Kristina Keith

In I Met the Boy Named Jack, Kristina recounts her childhood in Millington, Tennessee, during the 1980s, where she grappled with her brain-damaged uncle. Despite constant clashes, Granny's unwavering faith in their bond sparked hope. Jack, frozen in time since a tragic accident at 15, remained estranged from Gary, the driver blamed for

• Language: English
• Publisher: This is the day Publishing
• Release date: May 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798988887737

Kristina Keith

Kristina Keith is a proud native of Memphis, TN, where she has dedicated her life to nurturing her family and balancing the demands of a conventional 9 to 5 routine. Despite her busy schedule, Kristina has always held a deep-seated passion for writing, which she often set aside. However, at the age of 48, she decided to reclaim her dreams. Returning to her first love-poetry-Kristina has crafted her inaugural book, Dung Beetles and Butterflies, a reflection of her inner world. She continues to explore her creativity and love of family with I Met the Boy Named Jack. You can connect with Kristina at [e-mail].

Book preview

The Early Years with Granny and Bud

At home, where I lived with my Granny and my Uncle Bud (my mother’s brother), it was a chore trying to be nice and patient while waiting for my chance to watch Wonder Woman. As a kid, I fell for every aggravation trap set up by Bud, who was 18 years older than me but always got away with stuff I couldn’t. He looked like an adult, but hardly ever acted like one.

Granny, he is staring at me again!

Mama, the stupid brat is staring at me, dammit! Shut her up! said Bud.

"Kristina, if you were not looking at him, you would not know he was looking at you!

Now, if y’all would please let me hear the five o’clock news, y’all can take turns with the TV," yelled Granny.

Okay! Okay! Granny, I’m first, right!?

Yes! Kristina, only if you do not bother your Uncle Bud anymore during the news, so I can hear what’s going on in the world.

Ugh! Not bother Bud? That was the hardest thing for me when I was bored. Me and Bud would sit in the living room, which was three stairs down from the kitchen, where Granny sat overlooking us. I always had the itchy, brown and yellow plaid couch all to myself. Bud sat in his outdoor black metal chair, slowly rocking back and forth, with one side of his top lip higher than the other, one eye half shut because of all the smoke surrounding his face from his non-filtered cigarette. He would take the longest drag any man could take, in hopes of blowing out enough smoke to reach me from across the room, all the while staring at me as if he was plotting my death so he could have his mom, my Granny, all to himself. I figured he would be happier if I wasn’t around, since he often said it was too bad I couldn’t go live with my mom or dad.

We were all able to see the TV from where we sat. It was higher than usual because when the last one broke, Granny put a pretty tablecloth on top of it and placed the new one there. As I sat quietly on the couch so that I would not mess up my chance to be first to pick a TV show, Granny got up and went around the corner of the kitchen to the fridge to pour herself something to drink. Granny could not see us from the fridge, and Bud knew it. He thumped a booger at me and stuck his tongue out with his middle finger up.

That’s it! That’s all it took. GRANNY! GRANNY! GRANNY! He thumped a booger on me, I screamed. I turned to him. YOU NASTY IDIOT! YOU’RE SO STUPID! I ran towards him, knocked all his belongings off his side table, and took off running. I always outran him, since his left leg and left arm didn’t work the correct way, and sometimes if he went too fast, he would fall and need to be put in his wheelchair for the remainder of the day.

The third time around, us running a circle through the kitchen, living room, and dining room, Granny yelled. STOP IT! And sit down or no TV for you Kristina and no cigarettes for you, Bud!

Immediately, Bud sat down because he did not want to miss out on his cigarettes, which seemed to be his most favorite thing in the entire world. I went slowly to sit down so that I could whisper mean, aggravating things to him on my way to the couch. As I passed the window, I saw Ho-Ho (my grandfather) driving up, and I quickly ran out the door and straight to the barn, it being the first place Ho-Ho went, no matter why he came to the house.

Knowing what I was getting myself into, but deciding it was worth it, I approached him as he stepped out of his truck. I said Hey! Ho-Ho, can I ride a horse?

Letting out a groan, which could easily be mistaken as a growl, he put his hands on his hips and answered by starting with his orders. Yes, but first, get my sacks out of the truck. Take the trash out to the barrel, go up in the loft and push some hay bales down, then spread some hay around to each stall, fill the feed buckets up, let the horses loose, and scoop up all the horse crap from the stalls. Loudly, he said his last sentence in his aggravated way. Don’t get on my horses until they have a saddle on!"

Yes sir, yes sir, I yelled, while running off so I could get all that done before dark. I got busy. After I did everything he asked me to do, he brought Bubba to me. Bubba was the old yellow horse. Ho-Ho never let me ride the black shiny ones, but I didn’t mind riding Bubba because I knew it made Bud mad.

Once Bubba was saddled up, the first place I rode was to the living room window, where Bud was still sitting. I knew exactly when he saw me because he threw something at the window and yelled, Get that stupid fucking brat off my horse!

I just stuck out my tongue and rode off to the pasture. I loved riding horses, especially way out in the pasture where no one could bother me, going from one honeysuckle bush to the next, enjoying only the sounds of all the creatures. Sometimes I imagined they were singing for me. I felt untouchable and made lots of plans in my mind while riding alone. The pasture was the prettiest place, with all the beautiful colors worn by trees and bushes, and the best sounding place with all the natural music shared by the birds and insects roaming free in nature, and the best smelling place, with a slight lingering scent from fresh hay, honeysuckle bushes or an apple tree taking turns dancing in the wind. I felt safe, knowing I was among all the other living things that just wanted to exist and not be harmed. I was feeling my best in the pasture, until I heard Ho-Ho’s dreadfully loud whistle signaling me to come back to the barn.

When I would get back to the barn to put the horses up for the night, I would always brush each horse. Sometimes, if I saw Ho-Ho messing with their feet, I would kiss their nose and talk to them, since I knew it calmed them. Plus, it kept me out there longer around Ho-Ho. He never spoke a word or gave me a reaction, even when I would ramble on about what mean things Bud had done to me or Granny, what I learned in school, what craft Granny taught me, or how my mom and dad hadn’t been to see me. I always wanted to hang out and help Ho-Ho do things in the barn as much as I could, with the goal in mind to get him to talk more than two words, but every single time he was done coming up with chores for me, or if I asked him a question about life, he would say something like, It’s time for you to go back to the house with your Granny, now get on out of here. I never argued, just told him I loved him and received his usual response, from his deep grumbling voice. You too, now get.

Most of the time he told me to leave, I would act like I was running off and doing what I was told, then sneak around the corner of the barn, to watch what he would do alone. It was always the same thing. He would sit on the ledge of the big trough, facing out the back door of the barn to the empty pasture, take off his big cowboy hat to place it on his knee, pry the fat unlit cigar out of the corner of his mouth, take a big gulp of the bottle called Wild Turkey, and then let out a big breath, just sitting there with his head down. He always stayed that way for a long time. I never knew if he was praying or taking a nap. When I got bored staring at him, I’d