Number Fourteen

Growing up Jonah wasn't one to believe in fate, destiny, or any of that inevitability nonsense. He was a man who believed you were a product of not only circumstance, but also of choice. Actually, most importantly of choice. And as far as Jonah was concerned, he'd always tried his hardest to make the best choices possible. Truly he had.

He had given all his paper route money to his parents to get dinner on the table as a young boy.

He used his salary from his job at the bookstore to buy the family their first television set after his mother expressed her embarrassment at being the only house on the block that didn't have one of their own.

He had enrolled at the local Madison community college, the first one in his family to do so in fact, and graduated early with honors in late May of 1969.

Jonah had spent his every moment of his twenty three years of life thus far making good choices, and in the months following graduation he knew he was right in doing so. The summer of sixty- nine Jonah was undisputedly on cloud nine. He honestly had never been better. About two months following graduation he proceeded to take over as manager of the bookstore he had been working at, and three months following his promotion he married the woman of his dreams. He had done everything right and everything was and as far as Jonah was concerned, everything was going according to plan.

He had made good choices, the right choices-- and now? Well, now he was simply reaping the rewards of those choices.

Or at least that's what he thought until the night of December 1st, 1969.

The night began with Jonah going out with buddies after he finished closing up shop at the bookstore. On any normal night Jonah would be heading home to his lovely wife Eve, but this was no normal night. He and his friends were headed out to watch the draft at a local pub. This would be the first televised draft lottery in American history, and after talking with his friends they all came to the consensus that they might as well make an interesting evening of this bizarre event. With 365 other days against them, there was no fathomable way that they would be the poor bastards drafted. That happened to other people. Other people in other places- not to no name fellows here in Madison county. Jonah had always made the right choices in life and as such, he instinctively knew life would reward him with his birthday being called out 366. He felt it in his gut.

And hell, at the very least this night would make for a good laugh some time from now. Years and years from now when their children and their children's' children wanted to know where they were at this crazy moment in time, a night of victory out with the boys would be a far more entertaining story than one of unnecessary nail-biting at home with their respective girlfriends and wives.

So with that in mind their evening plans were set to go.

Out of the group only Nick had outright expressed any sort of nerves regarding the prospects of potentially being called up. But with a little teasing and shoving on Jonah and Al's part, Nick conceded and before they knew it the day was over and the whole group had corralled together, all eagerly headed towards Benny's on 16th Street to grab some drinks and watch the draft.

"Benny my man! Six beers this way if you please," Al shouted over the crowd as the men jostled their way in the front door of the busy pub.

"You got it brother!" Benny yelled from behind the bar with a quick wave in the group's direction, continuing to jostle around serving the crazy amount of patrons impatiently leaning over the countertop.

With a quick glance around, it was immediately clear their idea had been far from unique. While a normal Monday evening might see a mere handful of customers drowning away their beginning-of- week sorrows at the bar, tonight the place was packed wall to wall with near to no seating. Young men filled the pub left to right eagerly waiting to watch would happen over the next half hour. Despite the obsencnly large group packed into the small space, the pub was relatively quiet, the only sounds pervading the room being the steady tension filled murmur of conversation that flitted amongst groups of anxious looking men.

Still unfazed, Jonah gave Nick a hearty slap on the back and said "Man would you LOOSEN UP?! Look at these uptight guys!" he said while gesturing around towards the worried looking crowd.

"These uptight guys will have enough nerves and anxiety for you and their own damn asses! Stop worrying- there'll be plenty of that to go around those men. Let me tell you how it's gonna go Nick. We're gonna have a couple drinks, watch our numbers come out last and then head home to what will be our very relieved wives and go to sleep. Alrightttt??"

With a seemingly unconvinced smile and slight nod from Nick, Jonah gave him another friendly pat on the back and said " Lets squeeze through the crowd and find the others," looking around until he saw Artie standing on a chair waving them over.

Pushing through the packed crowds of men, Jonah and Nick made their way over to the table the group had snagged in the back corner. Sliding two beers across the table towards Nick and Jonah, Al asked how much time was left until the draft started.

Looking down at his watch Jonah said, "I'd say no more than five minutes. Looks like we made it just in time fellas."

"Great, because I am ready to get my ass home and have a good night's sleep," Artie chimed in.

"Well I'll say cheers to that my friend," said Bill in reply as he raised his beer towards the group.

"Cheers!" they all shouted in response, clinking their glasses against one another.

As they sipped their drinks a silence overtook the table, and for a brief moment as Jonah looked around he saw the worry in his friends eyes that nobody was willing to acknowledge. But before anyone could say anything a heavy hush came over the pub as everyone turned towards the little tv up on the wall.

It had begun.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programing-"

"Turn it up Benny!" someone shouted from the crowd. The rest remained silent, leaning forward, eyes fixated on the television.

"Alright, alright" Benny said, shrugging out from behind the bar and walking over to the television to fiddle with the volume.

The television went staticy for a moment before Benny then stepped away to look up at the screen just in time to hear a loud and clear September 14th be declared number one. A clear silence overtook the entire pub. Jonah and his friends cautiously looked around the pub as did the rest of the men there. Nobody seemed to react.

"See fellas! We're gonna be alright!!" some guy by the bar optimistically shouted breaking the silence as he raised his drink cheerfully towards the sky.

"Yeah!" plenty of men hollered in response, eager to join in on the man's optimism, no matter how unfounded it may be. "You know what," Bill said leaning forward towards the group, "Maybe that really is a good sign. We're in a pub filled to the brim with men and not a single one of them were born on the first date pulled? What are the actual odds of that?! I feel it, luck is on our side tonight".

Everyone nodded in eager agreement, latching onto Bill's hope while turning to listen to the next numbers called. As the next few were called there were a few abrupt departures from the pub and even some tears, but none of Jonah's friends nor he himself had been called. By the time they reached the tenth pick and none of them had been chosen, Jonah began to relax a bit and leaned back in his chair sipping his beer.

"I told you all that we'd be fine," Jonah laughed, "Now lets just use this as an excuse to go out and hang at Benny's on a Monday night. 'Cause lets be real, we never ever get to--" he froze mid-sentence as he heard the last date he ever expected to hear so early in the evening be spoken.

Clear as day, the man on the screen looked down at the slip pulled and said "April 11th. Number fourteen."

My God thought Jonah- Fourteen. Number fourteen?

They hadn't even gotten through twenty and yet a luck he didn't know he was betting on had already run out. Is this what being sucker punched feels like, he thought to himself.

Actually, it felt like he had been summoned by his own personal Grim Reaper.

Jonah could feel his friends eyes on him, but he couldn't pull his eyes from the television where he watched the man walk up to the board and place his birthday- a birthday he had been given by two damn minutes, be placed beside the number fourteen slot. Absorbing the utter shock, he finally looked back at his friends around the table, who were all looking at him with emotions mirroring his own. Fear, anger, pity, they all swept across the table like a wave, washing away whatever naïveté the group of boys had childishly been holding onto.

Jonah couldn't deal with his racing thoughts forget his friends thoughts as well. Without another word he abruptly stood, grabbed his coat, and began for the door with purposeful strides.

"Jonah!" Nick called out after him, "JONAH!!"

But Jonah didn't look back, tears forming in his eyes. Tears he refused to spill in front of his friends. Racing out the front door he heard the distant shout of his friends still calling for him to come back, but none followed- all still eagerly waiting and praying they could evade the hand Jonah had just been dealt.

With a final shout of agony from a stranger in the pub, the door slammed shut and Jonah was all alone. All alone.

This just didn't make any sense. Stuff like this didn't happen to men like Jonah. He made the right choices. Good choices. And yet it seemed that wasn't enough to spare him from this mess. A mess that had begun twenty-three years ago at 11:58pm on April the 11th. This story had been written since the moment he had been born. And no good choice could undo that.

And it was with that horrible thought in mind, that Jonah began to walk home, completely flabbergasted as to what he would tell his poor wife when he walked in the front door.

***

That was forty years ago now. Many lifetimes had existed in the space since that fateful night. But to Jonah, it still felt like yesterday.

Benny's was long gone, replaced with a fancy little bistro where customers paid twenty bucks for a piece of lettuce, but he could still recall the moment he heard the date April 11th pierce the space of the small pub as though it had just happened. Often times he still felt the vibrations of that moment still ringing in his ears. But it wasn't yesterday by any means, and with time came history. A history that Jonah adamantly fought to escape- both physically and emotionally.

The things he had done, the men he had killed, these were things he couldn't unburden himself from. Not that he wanted to. These were reminders of a life he could not undo-- a life that no good choice could fix, and for that he deserved to live with the constant reminder. Jonah was grateful to Eve who had stuck with him through it all, but he was no fool. He knew the ghosts of his past weighed just as heavily on her as they did him, if not more. They filled every room and made it impossible for the present to exist without suffocating. Dragging down everyone with them.

Make good choices they say. If not you may be haunted by past mistakes.

Ha.

What a load of crap.

Once upon a time Jonah made good choices, but today? Well today he was haunted by the men he killed. The men he couldn't save. And no good choices could change that fact.

With that thought in mind he reached forward in his recliner, grabbed a bottle off the coffee table and popped it open. As he brought the bottle towards his lips he paused for brief moment and glanced down at the three empty vodka bottles on the floor. With a sigh of resignation Jonah looked away, leaned back, closed his eyes, and began to drink while letting the memories come flooding back once more.