The Jar

Josh was a tortured young soul. When he was fifteen he was made an orphan. Both of his parents, his brother and two sisters died in a car crash. Josh was a sweet boy, but he was put into a group home which was rough. He got beaten up every day.

He finally got the message after about a month that if he didn’t fight back the bullies were going to end up killing him. Once Josh started to punch the main bully, he hit him so hard for so long that the boy ended up in hospital.

The social services put him into a Juvenal detention centre, where he spent the next two and a half years.

On his eighteenth birthday, Josh was released. He was handed a set of clothes and was on his way. He no longer had that scrawny look about him. When he was in the Juvenal detention centre, he worked out a lot and built up his muscles. He went in a boy and came out a man. He had blossomed into a well built short man with a very tight haircut. Inside he had a lot of people who looked up to him. He had respect and worked very hard to get it. He had no one and nothing on the outside.

Josh dreamed about his old house all the time. It was the house he grew up in, the house that was the source of all his happy memories. He loved his family and was devastated they had died but he had made peace with it and because it was an accident. The person who caused the accident died on the scene so there was no one to be angry at. In the detention centre Josh had taken some anger management classes and some counselling which helped him process the tragedy.

Josh had no money, no food, no accommodation, nothing. He used up all the money he was given to get him to his old house. It was exactly how he remembered it except the ivy on the front of it had spread and the driveway was no longer full of pebbles, it had a smooth concrete printed design on it instead.

Josh walked up the smooth driveway to the all too familiar big, red, wooden door. He touched it and chills went down his spine. He rang the doorbell a few times before he came to the conclusion that there was no one there. He looked into the new windows through cupped hands and could see his memories unfold even though the rooms were rearranged.

Josh decided to try to gain entry to the property. He remembered that his family always kept a spare key to the back door under the gnome with the red waistcoat and green hat that lived under the buxus tree out back. He walked to the side of the house and tried to open the gate but it was locked. He took a few steps backwards so he could have a go at climbing over it.

The garden was overgrown and unkempt which brought a tear to Josh’s eye. That was where he played football with his family, and had the neighbours over for barbeques. To his delight, the gnome was still there, even though the colours on his hat and waistcoat had faded. He lifted him up and taped underneath was a key. In his family someone always forgot their keys at one stage or another. He himself used the gnome more times than he could possibly remember. ‘Please work for me one last time’ he whispered to it. Of course the new owners could have changed the locks but Josh had to give getting in a chance.

As he was peeling the tape off the key, the gnome fell and shattered. ‘Shit,’ he mumbled. He was nervous when he picked up the brass key. He looked at it for a minute before he placed it inside the opening under the handle. It went in ok so Josh closed his eyes and turned the key. He heard a click and tried to open the door with the handle. To his amazement it opened.

Josh went in the back door to the house and had a look around. All of the furniture was different, but the kitchen was the same. He closed his eyes and saw his mother prepare all of the fabulous meals she made for the family of six. He noticed a knife missing from the knife stand on the island. ‘It must be in the dishwasher!’ he whispered to himself.

He went into the hall and up the wooden steps of the stairs, and heard the fourth step squeak. It was exactly as he remembered. He bounced up and down the squeaky step, fond memories flashing through his mind. He ascended the remaining steps and made his way into his old bedroom. He sat on the bed with the paw patrol dressing and looked around. He remembered when it was his room and the star wars bedding he had.

In the place of his desk was a shelving unit with pull out boxes. He got off the bed and opened a couple of the boxes. They both had toys in them. He thought it was funny that the kid who now occupied his old room had no toys on the floor, the complete opposite to Josh.

Josh saw a piggy bank that belonged to the kid on the windowsill and he opened the bottom of it to obtain a coin of any description. He was going to give it back, he just needed it for a few minutes. He walked over to the air vent that was situated on the wall that shared the bed head and sat down. He crossed his legs as he undid the screws with the coin. If he was right, and he most often was, his life savings should be still in that vent. Sure enough, when the last screw came loose and he removed the air vent he could see the big jar.

He hid it there so his older siblings couldn’t rob his money. He took a close look at the full jar. It was nearly bursting with cash and oh boy did he earn every penny of it. He mowed lawns, washed cars, and did other kids homework for the money. He got what he came for.

He closed up the vent and returned the coin to the piggy bank. He had no idea how much money was in the jar. Taking one last look at his bedroom a tear ran down his stubbly face. He turned, unable to look in any other bedroom. The memories were too painful. He hurried downstairs to the kitchen. He carefully placed the bowl of stale, half eaten cornflakes, from the table to the island. Once clear he opened the jar onto the table.

He counted the money and made it out to be over €2,000. He had put all of his confirmation money into it and yet he was astonished. He looked in the drawers of the kitchen for a large freezer bag; the jar was too bulky to be carrying around. When he found one he placed each and every coin and note into it and put it into his pocket. At least he had some money to keep him alive until he found himself a job.

He looked around the kitchen making sure nothing looked out of place. Then he locked up as he left, replacing the key under the tape of the broken gnome. He jumped over the gate again and looked for the last time at his childhood home before he was on his way, tears cascading down his face.