What you risk is only one side of the coin. The other is what you risk it for.
Wednesday, 3:15 PM
“He shoots! He scores! He wins the game! WOOOOO! Bow before Jessie the Intergalactic Foozball Champ-EEN!”
“Shoots nothing. There’s no shooting in Foozball! There’s kicking ans spinning knobs! Hey, HEY, stop dancing around and listen to me!”
Jessie, oblivious to all objections, continued dancing. “Served, you are. Strong with the Foozball Force am I!”
“Is that dancing supposed to make you look like a robot? Because it doesn’t.”
“Okay, how about THIS?”
“The Cabbage Patch doesn’t make you look like a robot either. Don’t you know any dance moves from the last ten years?”
“Not really.”
The door to the game room swung open and a black-haired girl with glasses tossed Jessie a hand held phone. “It’s for you, Jess.”
“Who is it? Jeff Cranston?”
“No, this guy knows more than three words.”
“Okay.” Jessie held up the phone. “This is Jessie Gordon’s Dental Clinic, your pain is our gain, how can I help you?”
“Hello Jessie.”
“…Dad?” Jessie walked over to the window, cradling the phone to his head and speaking in unusually non flamboyant tones, leaving his roommates perplexed. “Dad, what are you doing calling all of a sudden? I thought you disowned me, kicked me out of the house, sundered all family tree connections, excommunication, talk-to-the-hand stuff?”
“…Look, I know we’ve had some differences.”
“That’s an understatement. Last time I saw you was on the front lawn waving a shotg-”
“Jessie, Clara is dead.”
“WHAT?!”
The other to occupants of the room jumped out of the furniture they occupied at the moment, then settled back in after the surprise wore off.
“It was a car crash. Two days ago. She was lingering on for a while, but… it was too much for her. Doctors couldn’t do anything.”
“…I see.”
“The funeral is… it’s this Saturday. Family Plot.”
“I know the place.”
“Alright. Son… I-”
“Yes dad?”
“…she was always standing up for you. I think I see why now.”
“Yes. I understand. But you do not.”
“…you’ll be coming?”
“Yes. You rented out my old room to anybody?”
“No. It’s still here.”
“Alright. How’s Caleb?”
“He’s… taking it well.”
“Meaning he’s stopped talking to anyone else.”
“…see you at the funeral, Jessie.”
“Right.”
Jessie switched the phone off. “Reg, do we have anything important planned this week?”
The defeated Foozballer frowned and scratched the back of his head. “A milk run to Steve’s Pizza-Rama, and Novacaine’s offered us enough cash for six month’s rent if we back him up on Thursday.”
“… I’m going to have to cancel. And I’m going to have to borrow the car for the week.”
“Say what?”
“My mom’s dead. The funeral is this Saturday. The family burial plot is about four states away.”
“…oh. That makes sense now.”
Wednesday, 11:37 PM
“Up awfully late, aren’t you?”
Jessie looked up from his coffee cup. “Got a lot to think about.”
Reg sat down opposite his friend and crossed his arms. “You realize that if you take the car, it’ll be next to impossible for us to accomplish anything here.”
“Yeah.”
“So is there a way you can get over to… wherever… without the car?”
“I went online and checked the bus schedule. Takes too long. By the time I get there the grass on the grave will need trimming.”
“Then it’s settled. We’re all going.”
Jessie looked up sharply. “What?”
“Earwax building up in there? I said Liz and I are coming with you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re our friend.”
“…thanks.”
“And we’re bored.”
“I KNEW IT.”
“Hehehe. Get some sleep, Jess.”
Thursday, 6:03 PM
The car pulled up the drive and took its place at the end of the line of visiting vehicles. Liz clambered out of the back seat while Jess and Reg stretched.
“Damn. Your house is huge!”
“Technically it’s my dad’s, not mine. And speaking of which, here he comes. Remember, he can smell fear.”
A tall, red-headed man in a somber black suit strode slowly towards the trio with an unpleasant look on his face. Tina took off her glasses and attempted to clean them on her already dirty shirt, then put them on again. Yes, it was no illusion, they really did look identical except for the clothing.
And of course, the attitude.
Mr. Gordon stopped short of the trio and narrowed his eyes. “Who are THEY?”
Jessie stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “All these years and you can still make a pronoun carry all the symbolism of the word scum. Way to stay in shape.”
“This is a family gathering. I thought you knew that.”
“I did. And they ARE family.”
Mr. Gordon glared a few more seconds, then shrugged and turned away. “If you say so.”
Jessie shrugged and motioned for his friends to follow. “He didn’t even try to get his own back. This hit him hard.”
Thursday, 6:25 PM
“Jessie!” A ten year old red-headed youth in a rather ill-fitting small suit ran through the crowd of high society minglers and tackled Jessie’s legs. Jessie carefully pried him loose and picked him up.
“Hey little bro. How you holding up?”
“I’m okay.”
“Glad to hear it. What have I mi… uh, what have you been doing lately?”
“Reading stuff.”
“Figures.” Jessie winked at his friends. “Guy could read the encyclopedia at the age of three. Writing at five. What’s that say to you?”
Reg shrugged. “That he has way too much free time.”
“Close enough.” Jessie set Caleb down.
“What’ve you been doing Jessie?”
“All sorts of stuff, really. Nothing safe for your young ears, though.”
“Oh. Can we go running for a while Jessie? Like we used to?”
“Uh, sure. Just gotta get unpacked first-”
“No Jessie. Right now.”
Jessie looked at his brother shrewdly, then nodded. “Okay. Right now.” He turned to Reg and Liz. “My old room is up on the second floor. South end. Third from the window. Should be a total mess.”
“Where are you going?”
“Sorry Liz, your question must be phrased in the form of an answer.”
Thursday, 8:48 PM
The old pear tree still grew on the corner of the field, and Jessie felt better upon seeing it.
“I half thought that dad would have it cut down when I left home.”
Caleb, perched on his brother’s shoulders, shook his head. “He wanted to, but mom told him no way.”
“That was mom alright. Always looking out for us.”
“…yeah.”
“And I bet this is what this run was about.”
“Yeah…”
Jessie stopped by the tree and Caleb hopped into the branches. “You know, Caleb, mom dying in a car wreck doesn’t seem… likely.”
“I know.”
“And you also know she taught me everything she knew.”
“Yeah.”
“So… what do you think happened?”
“I don’t know. When she tried explaining it to me, it didn’t make any sense.”
Jessie nodded grimly. “Okay. Fair enough. What happened that day?”
“She asked me if I wanted to ride with her.”
“And you went with her?”
“Yeah. We went out on the freeway, and she held my hand, and said everything was going to be okay. Then she closed her eyes… and then…”
Caleb stopped talking and stared off into space. Jessie nodded and started pacing.
“Jessie… why did she do it? She never said anything in the hospital… except she asked if I was okay. And then she didn’t say anything. She just smiled.”
“I don’t know. Must have been something monumentally important.”
“…you’re going to bring her back, right?”
Jessie stopped pacing and looked at the ground. With a sigh, he reached into his jacket and pulled them revolver out of its hidden holster.
“No. We’re going to bring her back.”
Friday, 8:09 AM
“You sure about this?”
“My mind is made up, if that’s what you mean.”
“And your brother?”
“He wants to come along. He has to, to make it work.”
“Why not us? We’re more likely to survive if you crash.”
“Which is why you wouldn’t work. There has to be risk for me and Caleb both. Plus, we’re both blood relatives to the person we’re trying to bring back. The connection helps a bit.”
“What about your father?”
“He’d never go along with it, for one. Also, I don’t care about him much, so there’s not as much tension as there should be. Mom said the final step was to risk the life of someone you love in addition to your own. I think that’s what she did when she died.”
“…I didn’t understand a word you said, but I didn’t understand what you said when you explained how to make Johnny ‘Hot’ Pockette break out in hives that spelled ‘Dickweed’ either.”
“Hehehe. That was fun.” Jessie looked at his friends one last time. “Look, if this works, and I can rewrite history so that the better part of last week never happened, then none of this will have ever occured. So since I have nothing to lose, I’m going to take chance here, too. Liz, I’ve had a crush on you for a while, but I never said anything because I knew it would never work out. It’d be like playing Russian Roullette with all six chambers loaded.”
Liz blinked in surprise. “For how long?”
“About eight or nine months.”
“Long time to keep your mouth shut.”
Jessie shrugged and walked towards the car.
“Good luck, man. If that means anything with you involved.”
Friday, 9:25 AM
“Friday Night Morning Rush Hour on the Freeway. Excellent. Ready Caleb?”
“Yeah. For mom.”
“For mom.”
Jessie slammed his foot on the accellerator and the weak looking compact car roared into traffic.
“Are you going to close your eyes like mom did?”
“Nope. Got my own way of doing things. Seatbelt off?”
“Yep.”
“Alright. Hand me my revolver.”
Caleb held the gun carefully and Jessie reached out and grabbed it without looking. “Now grab the wheel while I check it.”
Caleb reached over and kept the car relatively stable, weaving between lanes as Jessie checked to see that one chamber and only one was loaded. The gun snapped shut and Jessie took the wheel with his free hand. Caleb leaned back in his own seat, breathing hard. Jessie grinned at him. “Isn’t it great?”
“Mom, Jessie. We gotta do this for mom.”
Jessie nodded. “I haven’t forgotten.” Letting the wheel go for a split second, he spun the cylinder and let it stop. “Round and round and round she goes. Where she stops… we’re about to find out.”
He pointed the gun under his jaw, facing up. ‘All those chances you took for me. For Caleb. For dad, even if he is a closeminded prick. And the chances you took ON us. Just once, let me repay the favor.’
He pulled the trigger.
Wednesday, 3:15 PM
“He shoots! He scores! He wins the game! WOOOOO! Bow before Jessie the Intergalactic Foozball Champ-EEN!”
“Shoots nothing. There’s no shooting in Foozball! There’s kicking ans spinning knobs! Hey, HEY, stop dancing around and listen to me!”
Jessie, oblivious to all objections, continued dancing. “Served, you are. Strong with the Foozball Force am I!”
“Is that dancing supposed to make you look like a robot? Because it doesn’t.”
“Okay, how about THIS?”
“The Cabbage Patch doesn’t make you look like a robot either. Don’t you know any dance moves from the last ten years?”
“Not really.”
The door to the game room swung open and a black-haired girl with glasses tossed Jessie a hand held phone. “It’s for you, Jess.”
“Who is it? Jeff Cranston?”
“No, it’s a lady. Plus she knows more than three words.”
“Okay.” Jessie held up the phone. “This is Jessie Gordon’s Dental Clinic, your pain is our gain, how can I help you?”
“Hello Jessie.”
“…Mom?” Jessie grinned. “Been a long time. How’s the old battle-axe?”
“Still angry at you for running off to become a ‘low life card shark’ as he put it. He didn’t understand, he can’t understand. You musn’t hold it against him forever.”
“I try, mom. I really do.”
“There’s… something important I need to talk to you about. Caleb’s sick.”
“Sick? How sick?”
“Leukemia sick.”
“WHAT?!”
Jessie’s roommates jumped out of the furniture they occupied, then relaxed as the adrenaline wore off.
“We just found out a few weeks ago. I wanted to call you, but you know how your father gets. Plus you’re pretty hard to find.”
“How long has he got?”
“The doctors say four months at best.”
“…crap.”
“I… well, I tried to do something to help, but something went wrong.”
“What do you mean, wrong?”
“We went out on the freeway and tried…”
“Oh. Yes. The final lesson.”
“But something happened. The car skidded off the road and both of us were miraculously unharmed. And I don’t know who or why, but somebody must have twisted probability so that we survived. Couldn’t gain anything from that situation.”
“Right…”
“I’m fine, Caleb’s fine… for the moment… and your father’s his usually angry self. We’re going to get in another yelling match tonight for me calling you, but it’s worth the risk.”
“A lot of things are, mom.”
“I know. You love your brother, don’t you?”
“Of course. You want me to try to retroactively cure him, like you tried to?”
“Yes.”
“…didn’t you tell me something about never asking someone else to take a risk you wouldn’t take?”
“I did. And I already took that risk. And now it’s up to you.”
“I won’t let you down. Or Caleb.”
“I knew you wouldn’t. ‘The one impossible-‘”
“‘-that makes all else possible.’ Right.”
“Love you Jessie.”
“Love you too mom.”
Jessie clicked the phone off. “Hey guys, we have that milk run to Steve’s this week, right?”
“Yeah. And Novacaine called. He wants some back up. Offered us enough cash to pay the rent for six months.”
“Sounds like a plan. Call him up and tell him it’s a deal if he can find us ten patsy’s, preferably people who will make society better off if they die. Telemarketers and their ilk, you know?”
“Something come up?”
“Like you wouldn’t beleive. Fortune favors the bold, and I need Fortune on my side in a big way.”
“This isn’t going to be like when we beat up Johnny Pockette, right? That was gross.”
“…maaaaybe.”