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 Copyright 2002 by DRD Pike

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   Fate's Cruel Jokes



   "You know, it's funny the curve balls life can throw you sometimes. 
When I first met Jeanette the last thing I wanted was to get wrapped up in
all the entanglements of a relationship.  Then she flashed me that smile,
you all know the one, and from that moment on I was hers.  Now granted, I
didn't realize it until much later, but it was true none the less.  I'll
remember Jeanette for that smile more then anything, the way it lit up her
face and danced through her eyes.  The way it would dig past any pain or
trouble you might have and let a little piece of her ever so bright soul
shine on you.  It didn't matter how dark your day had been or how hopeless
things seemed, you couldn't help but smile when she did, just like I can't
help but cry knowing I'll never see it again.  I know that's the last thing
she would want, but with the passing of her light I can find little other
comfort in these dark days.  I could stand before you all for hours upon
end reminding you of how gracious and selfless a person Jeanette was, but I
know she wouldn't want that either.  I beg you instead then to think of
her, to remember now and forever the kindness of her heart and the nobility
of her spirit.  Thank you."



   As Jim stepped down from the pulpit he allowed the control he had been
so tightly clinging to to slip.  He felt himself shudder as he slowly made
his way back to his pew.  'The hardest part is over now,' he reassured
himself, but even he did not believe it.  Taking his seat, Jim's mind was
once again claimed by the thought which had haunted his every waking hour
since the accident; why?  'Why did this have to happen?  Why did the
traffic have to force her to take a detour and get caught by that train? 
Why did that three time drunk driver still have his license?  Why did he
have to rear end her and push her car onto the tracks?  Why didn't I go to
pick up the invitations instead of her?  Why couldn't I have taken her
place?' All these questions and more ran through Jim's head as he half
listened to the Minister speak words of comfort, though Jim could find
little in them to give him strength.  She was gone, that was all that
concerned Jim.  His fiancé was gone, and his life was irreparably changed.



   The funeral had been hard, but sitting in his living room the following
week, nursing his third glass of whiskey, Jim knew the worst was yet to
come.  Even though it was at least a month distant, he dreaded the trial.
He knew it might bring him a peace that burying Jeanette had failed to
yield, but he could still hardly stomach the thought of it.  'Just to be in
the room with that, that, that thing that stole her from me,' Jim thought,
'it may well be more then I can bear.' Jim never bothered to learn the name
of the man who'd taken away from him the most precious thing in his life,
and truth be told he had no desire to ever know it.  So far as Jim was
concerned, to know the man's name was to give him more dignity then he
deserved.  In Jim's mind the man might just as well burn in hell for what
he had done, for stealing Jeanette's life and for stealing the hope of all
those who loved her.  Still, he owed it to Jeanette to be there, and no
matter how hard it might be, he needed to see justice done.  Well, as much
justice as could be done in such a case by any means.  He also knew there
was a chance he would be called to testify, 'appealing to the emotions of
the jury' the prosecutor had called it.  He didn't want anyone's pity, even
if it would see that swine put behind bars.  At the moment though Jim knew
he had more immediate concerns, namely his imminent return to work in the
morning.  Vacation time can only go so far, and between all the
preparations for Jeanette's funeral and all the time he spent apathetic
afterward, his had run out.



   It wasn't that Jim hated his job, quite the opposite actually.  For the
majority of his life Jim's work had nearly consumed him.  In the ten years
since he got his degree, this was only his second job.  Hired before he'd
had a chance to remove his cap and gown, within six months Jim found that
he didn't much care for the anonymity of being but another faceless blob in
the corporate world.  When an acquaintance from school offered him a
position heading up the IT department in his new business, Jim jumped at
the chance.  He didn't even give a second thought to the forty percent pay
cut he had taken.  'Stock options are a beautiful thing,' he often told
himself.  Never once had he regretted his decision to work for Ron, his
years at Tindell Manufacturing had been happy ones.



   For the first time though, Jim almost wished he was back in the land of
massive corporations.  That realm where no one neither knew nor
particularly cared who you were or where you'd been.  Life at Tindell was
far different though, and Jim knew that come morning he'd be surrounded by
people expressing condolences and trying to lift his spirits, not
realizing, no matter how good their intentions, that at the moment Jim
liked his spirits just as low as they were.  He knew that in the coming
weeks he'd be hard pressed to look in someone's eyes and not see sympathy
there...  he didn't want sympathy, he wanted Jeanette.  He'd have to settle
for what sleep he and his prescription might find though, firm in the hope
that it might ease the hangover which threatened to turn a terrible day
into a truly unbearable one.