Memory Lane By Madonna Tweety VeraFloyd1@aol.com *Damn*, Big Bud Dean thrust open the bathroom door and proceeded to rip through the medicine cabinet. *Where the fuck are they?*. Head whirling, he continued his search, now charging into his room and attacking the contents of his bedside table. His aging face was contorted with fury, but those dark eyes softened at the site of the tiny orange vial peeking out of a drawer. With trembling fingers he seized and uncapped it. Throwing his head back, he allowed the tiny pills to fall onto his tongue. The violent trembling ceased, and as he slowly stood up, smoothing back his hair, a high-pitched giggle escaped his throat. Jason had annoyed the hell out of him today. "Dad" had invited his newest girlfriend over, then had the fucking audacity to bring her up. Jason's bitter words still hung in his head "...Last time I saw my Mom, she was waving from a library window in Texas. Right Dad?", as if some how, he, Bud Dean, were to blame. Hell, he was just doing his job, the bitch had walked into that building by means of her own two feet. He had to give it to Jason, though, the little shit actually stunned him pretty bad. It had been two years since he'd last mentioned his mother, and never in front of anyone else. The two of them were living in Kansas then. A sudden unexplainable urge forced Bud to venture into his son's room. It was dark and the stink of chemicals along with cigarette smoke filled the sodden air. Wires littered his desk. Bud sighed, assuring himself that his son knew what he was doing, Jason took care of himself- at least he hoped. He sat down heavily on Jason's bed, slowly massaging his temples. He longed for another dosage, longed for the sweet endless void the pills transformed his mind into. They were his saviors- send in all the protesting old bitches and smart-ass sons you wanted to, Big Bud Dean would retain a cool demeanor. Bud thought again about his son's words. She had wanted Texas to be different...it was her last try. Bud was suddenly roused from his reverie by the sound of the front door opening. He quickly rose from the bed and returned to his own room. He looked at the clock *damn* 2:00 a.m and he had the battle over the motel to deal with tomorrow. Jason's soft footsteps sounded as he apparently went into his room. Bud opened his door extremely slowly, and walked lightly down the hallway, even in the most treacherous situations tiptoeing was not his style. He went down into the basement and looked around until he at last found in the box marked "JD's Baby Toys", what he was searching for. It was modest leather-bound photo album, prepared meticulously by Jason's mother. Bud settled onto the cold granite floor and leafed through it. Memories had never meant much to Bud, a great fan of discarding the past in exchange for the future, yet as he looked through the album, the first photo caught his eye. Marilyn's memory overtook him. They'd met in Weed, Mississippi. He was in town, working with a demolition company, working to someday own his own. *A real lady killer* Bud grinned. He could see Jason took after him in this respect. She was young and vivacious, her delicately boned face framed by strawberry blonde tresses- Jason had her dark, brooding eyes. *'Great lay too*, Bud chuckled, allowing that slow smile to capture his face. He'd had to leave immediately after they'd spent a night together. Four weeks later, she'd tracked him down, claiming she was pregnant with his child. Knowing no other option would work, they'd tied the knot. Bud gritted his teeth in reflection *that little bitch told me she was on fucking birth control, just wanted to find some way to escape that sad little country existence. He continued to look through the album, pausing at a picture of Jason's first birthday. He was being held by Marilyn who smiled shyly at the camera. Jason wore a party hat on his tiny head, his eyes were closed and that darling rosebud mouth hung linear. *He was always so easily sedated by his mother* Bud thought. The next picture featured a two year old Jason, mouse-eared sunglasses perched on his forehead, aiming his little toy gun at the television screen, where James Dean flickered. Part of the reason, Marilyn would joke, that she married Bud was his last name. An avid James Dean fan, she'd begged him to name their baby after him. He'd declined and she'd settled for Jason, working around it by calling him "JD". Even to this day Bud refused to use the name- some little punkass rebel was something he didn't need. Don't things turn out so ironically sometimes? Bud aptly noticed that a slice of Marilyn's arm had been caught in the photo. Bandaged and bruised, this was the first time she'd really learnt of his temper. Bud smirked *Stupid bitch, didn't even learn from it*. Bud checked his watch, *Damn*, it was almost 3 a.m. He flipped through the photos quickly now, pictures of Jason's evolution. A shot of him at four playing with a turtle and grinning. Bud smiled in remembrance * It nipped Jason and he threw the damn thing at a car.* A shot of him at six, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. A shot of him at eight, tousled brown hair being whipped by the wind. A shot of him at nine playing with a puppy. Bud shuddered * We found pieces of that poor little thing around the house for weeks*. A shot of him on his eleventh birthday looking sourly away from the camera. *We'd just moved to Illinois, he didn't have any friends*. The last shot was Jason at thirteen, hair dyed blonde and sectioned into spikes, laughing with his mother. *She'd forced me to take the picture, knew exactly what was coming* Big Bud Dean took one last look and slammed the album shut. On second thought, he reopened the book, took out the last photo and went upstairs. Leaning over the lit stove, he lit his cigar, and took a deep drag. Nimbly, he placed the photo over the burner...*Who the hell needs fucking memories?* "Son?" Bud looked up and snatched the picture away from the stove, a squinting Jason had entered the room, hair mussed and almost as spiky as when he was thirteen. Bud's voice was barely beyond a whisper "Yea Dad?" Jason smiled "What the hell are you doing?" Bud took another long drag "Nothing."