My Little Jackie

By: Garrett Houser a.k.a. Cowboy Appledash

Our story begins down in Sweet Water, Alabama. A quaint little town where next to nothing happens save for the one stop light in the center of town changing from green to red. Days seemed to fade into each other almost unnoticed by the small community, this was especially true for Jackson Moody, who just as his name suggests can be ‘moody’ at times. In a one horse town like Sweet Water there was slim pickings for just about anything you could think of, nobody was what you could call rich, but none were poor thanks to the sense of family that radiated through all who were acquainted, once again Jackson was the exception to this rule.

I might as well tell you a little about Jackson so you can see where he’s coming from, you see, Jackson never met his mother since she died during child birth, coincidentally this also fostered a hatred from his father, the same man that created Jackson is the same one that blames Jackson for the death of his one and only love. None of which has ever helped his social situation being used to taking the blame from his father, Jackson has pretty much figured that everybody is out to get him, which is why he spends his time out in the woods hunting or by the lake fishing, it’s all he can do to provide for himself since his father refuses to feed a ‘murderer’. I guess you could say that Jackson got a lucky break when he found an old 12 gauge in the shed near his ‘home’, that combined with his extensive knowledge of the forest pretty much set him up for life, save for the moments when he has to walk into town to get ammunition, ammunition that was paid for by the unprotected wallet of his father on drunken Friday nights. You could call Jackson a ‘loner’ or a ‘hermit’, but it’s not his fault, he was raised wrong and although he usually has good intentions, nobody really gave a rats ass about him.

Now that you’re pretty fluent as to what Jackson’s life is… or rather WAS like, let me tell you the story of his ‘transformation’.

~

“Now Ms. Hewitt, you an Ah both know that no deer would ever do somethin’ stupid as that.” Jackson despite his appearance was very intelligent for is age, he got the best grades in class and his knowledge of the wilderness and the critters that run through it was nearly unparalleled in the region. “Ah mean really, ya’ll ‘spect me to believe that a doe would up and crash through a shop winda just fer shits an grins?”

“Jackson Buford Moody! I will not tolerate such language in my classroom. It is merely a lesson in forensics.”

“An this here’s a lesson in common sense lady, deer ain’t stupid, ya’ll must think yer high an mighty compared to everythang on four legs don’cha?”

“Jackson, I will not let you speak that way in front of me and the class, I deserve respect and you will respect me. You may not CARE about your education but I assure you the rest of the class does!” Jackson leaned back and swiveled his head surveying the room, taking note of the many students either asleep or ‘dicking’ around at their respective seats, evidence that justified his next comment.

“Yeah, we’re all just thrilled to hear you talk about retarded deer and fancy science mumbo-jumbo, listen here, it’s obvious we don’t care about this yankee hooey, so why don’t ya’ll try teachin’ somethin’ that’ll actually be useful in life?”

The student teacher debate lasted for another minute or so, eliciting giggles from the students paying attention. That is up until Jackson was kicked out of the classroom and told to talk to the principal, he didn’t really care though, it was his last class of the day so he took it upon himself to leave early and try to enjoy himself.

~

Somewhere around 2:40 in the afternoon Jackson arrived at the one spot he cherished more than anything, it was like a home away from home to him. A tiny shack built on the edge of the pond near his fathers house, sure it was small and not exactly a pretty sight, but he didn’t care, he felt comfortable there. Opening the door he commenced with his daily routine of grabbing a beer from his refrigerator and the fishing pole that lay propped up against the wall and set out toward the lake.

Smiling to himself he sat down, opened the bottle and took a sip, the cool bittersweet liquid danced around in his moth for a bit until he swallowed, satisfied with the quality he grabbed the hook on the end of his line and searched for a worm crawling through the moist dirt. His search didn’t last long however, soon he spotted an exceptionally plump wriggler and began threading it onto his hook. He let go of the worm letting it dangle freely in the air, brought his arm back and cast his line out into the water.

Five brews and 2 hours later Jackson returned to his shack with a mere three Bass, it wasn’t much but it would feed him for a little while. Wrapping each in tin foil he tossed them all in the freezer for later use and sat down on his bed to think.

Of course, like any normal human being, he thought about life, love and success. He didn’t think of petty things like the next big Football game, and he sure as hell didn’t think about politics. Yet the one thing he would never have thought of would soon become a big part of his life, he just didn’t know it yet.

~

Saturday morning, a day like every other, mundane, uneventful… Pointless. Another morning where Jackson would hold his Mossberg in his hands and contemplate the meaning of life and whether he should continue living it. Usually Jackson could hear the sound of a vehicle approaching his shanty home and the opening and closing of a car door, but being deep in thought he paid no heed to the noises. The loud rapping on his door broke him from his trance and he stood up to answer the door. Brandishing his 12 gauge, he unlocked the door, turned the handle and let the barrel of his gun do the rest.

There at the door stood Sherriff Grady, one of the two law enforcement officers in the area. Jackson took it upon himself to ‘greet’ Grady “What do you want?”

“Put that gun down Jackson, I ain’t here to arrest you.” The Sherriff then leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. “You got any idea why I’m here?”

Jackson propped his long-arm against the wall and looked back at the Sherriff “Cause I left school early yesterday?”

“No, I’m here because your dad is dead.” Jackson wasn’t phased by the comment so Grady continued. “Got killed drivin’ home last night, we searched the house looking for a will an he didn’t have one. Now since we don’t care for all the uppity judicial stuff like most other officers round these parts, we figure it’s best you get everything he owned, the house, his money… Everything.”

“So… I get everything…” Jackson cracked a small smile and chuckled a bit. “An here Ah thought he woulda written a will given’ everything to Miss LeDoux down the road. Oh well, thanks for lettin’ me know. Ya’ll have fun now ya’hear?” The Sherriff took this as a goodbye and went on his way, Jackson turned around and set to packing a few necessities and throwing them in his truck.

Although not under the best circumstances, Jacksons life was finally starting to look up and it could only get better from there, he would be bestowed a blessing unheard of in the world.

The next two weeks idled by like any other, just part of the bland cycle that was Jacksons life. Everything that used to be in his shack was now in the house, and everything deemed useless in the house was in a landfill. The house had been cleaned and the place almost resembled a nice place to live. Jackson had taken his fathers old position as a mechanic at the Sweet Water Garage and received the same hours and wages his father had been getting. I guess you could say that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

Jackson was content with life, the cash was flowing smoothly and everything he ever needed was now only a simple transaction away. Yet there was that one small feeling etching away at him, it felt almost as if there were a void in his life. Something felt like it was missing, it wasn’t the fact he had no siblings or parents because deep down he didn’t care about such things. He felt almost useless, sure he was decent when it came to turning a wrench but he felt it was all for naught, he didn’t have anybody to care for. Somebody to look out for, that was what he wanted, and soon enough his wish would be granted.

~

Just a regular Wednesday evening, a couple folks had come to the garage in need of minor repairs and tune-ups, nothing too complicated. Work had been easy so Jackson had taken the rest of the night to walk around town and explore a bit.

As he strolled by his old elementary school house he decided to meander about the playground and reminisce on his days as a small child, the times when he had friends and life was fun. He sat down on a bench and surveyed the place letting nostalgic feelings wash over him and for the first time in years, he smiled. Jackson hadn’t noticed the bundle of orange that sat under the bench when he had arrived, but as he stood up to leave he bumped it with his foot and heard what could only be described as a frightful yelp.

Kneeling down to inspect the whatever it was, he was surprised to find what resembled a horse, yet much smaller and oddly colored. It bore an orange coat with a blonde mane and tail and white freckles dotted both cheeks. The shivering mass looked back at him, emerald eyes glinted in the moonlight.

“What in gods name are you supposed to be?” Jackson reached out to touch the creature and confirm that he wasn’t just seeing things. As he made contact he noticed that not only was it real, it was also very cold. His next actions he could not rationalize, all he knew was this thing needed help and he was going to be the one to do it. Removing his coat and laying it on the ground, he picked up the tiny filly and placed it gently on his coat and wrapped it tightly inside warming the critter. As he lifted his bundle and bought it to his chest, his heart melted, for as he stood there holding his new ‘friend’ it nuzzled his chest and buried it’s muzzle in his arm. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

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Yep, the first chapter of a brand new fic but not very original idea. I hope this chapter has gotten you guys at least a little interested. Be sure to rate it and leave a comment if you like it or want to berate it. Any qualms, concerns, questions, ideas or random comments are greatly appreciated. Disclaimer: I don't own shit, only thing about this that isn't fake is the fact that Mossberg makes shotguns and Sweet Water is a town in Alabama. So yeah. Next Chapter: Apuh Jack Estimated time remaining: 13 Minutes