BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL

HISGOODGIRL

That Which Shapes A Man 4/13
Monday, January 8, 2007

Jayne returns to his home world for the funeral of his beloved younger brother. The solemn occasion forces him to confront early events that have shaped his life, in an effort to understand the true meaning of family and loyalty.


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 2283    RATING: 9    SERIES: FIREFLY

Title: That Which Shapes A Man Chapter Four: A Rough Road to Follow Author: hisgoodgirl

Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss. Just one woman’s take on the story. No money exchanged and all that. Rating: PG-15 for strong language Characters: Jayne, Kaylee, Crew, ofc, omc Pairing: Jayne/Kaylee in some chapters Setting: Just prior to "Those Left behind"; also, twenty-six years previously. Word Count: 2,374; chapter four of thirteen

A/N: From the first time I watched Firefly, I wondered what circumstances might have shaped the character of Jayne Cobb, an exceptionally complex man. The given name "Jayne" was a common variant of "John" in Victorian England. This story emerged from the questions I asked.

Thanks to my excellent beta ArtemisPrime for making me dig deep and to my dear friend Kristy Bartley, Ph.D., psychologist and therapist, who introduced me to the amazing work on intergenerational family dynamics done by Dr. Terrance Real and gave me insights into the forces that might have created the character we see.

Italics indicate internal dialogue, emphasis or Chinese.

To read previous chapters, click on my name above.

Questions, thoughts and comments are sincerely appreciated. Thanks!

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That Which Shapes A Man Chapter Four: A Rough Road to Follow

Jared Corrigan is the middle son of Annalee’s younger brother, Graham. Out on his own for several years, he and a couple of buddies share a cabin in the hills above Ironton. He’s led his family to believe that he makes his living at spare jobs, and in fact, he does. Had Annalee known the true nature of her nephew’s inclinations, chances are good she’d have sent Jayne somewhere else.

Late that night, Jayne shows up, cold and tired. Jared’s initially hesitant to let him stay. Things are sometimes tight and the last thing they need is some dead-weight kid, cousin or no. “You’ll have to pull yer own weight,” Jared tells him, “but that don’t look to be a problem. How old are you now, anyways?”

Jayne tries to deepen his voice, stands up a little straighter. “I’ll be sixteen next month.” The others, grown men in their early twenties, snicker.

“Got yer Pa’s height, that’s fer sure. Look sturdy enough. If yer willin’ to work, we’ll take you on. Toss yer gear in there,” Jared thumbs over his shoulder, “and come warm up by the fire. That there’s Les,” he points at a slender fair fellow, “and the other guy’s Amos. We all grew up together.” His buddies make amiable noises and shuffle around to make room near the fire.

Jayne settles his lanky frame into a rickety old chair by the fireside, and Jared asks him, “So, what prompted yer mama to send you up here? Last I’d heard, you was learnin’ weldin’ down at the plant.”

“Well, I was.” Jayne looks around at the other men. “But me an Pa kept getting’ into it and I think she was a’feared one of us might kill the other’un.”

Les and Amos lock eyes and Amos grins skeptically. He takes a sip from a bottle and passes it on to Jared.

“You a bad ass, Miss Jayne?” he goads sarcastically, testing the youth.

“Look, Amos,” Jared interrupts, “cut him some slack. His old man’s a real gan ni niang. Besides, who wants to be workin’ in some ruttin’ factory day after day?” At this, all three laugh in agreement and Jayne joins in. For now, he figured his best bet is to do all he can to fit with the others.

* * *

For the first couple of days, Jayne chops firewood and hauls water as the others come and go. All have horses, and he’s put to work caring for the animals and maintaining tack. They’re a pretty tight-lipped bunch, all in all, and the youth can’t get a clear sense of what anyone does. Still, he’s got a cot and is fed, after a fashion.

After a month or so, Jayne has figured out that the jobs that Jared and his buddies are doing aren’t necessary of the law-abiding sort, and while he has misgivings, staying put seems the best option. He enjoys the freedom of being out on his own and the sense of manhood that comes with that freedom. While he misses his family, he doesn’t miss the repetitious routine at the ironworks or the escalating confrontations with his father. He gets along well enough with his cousin and Les, but Amos continues to find ways to provoke him, most frequently when Jared is gone. “How come yer folks gave ya a girl’s name, kid?” Amos jibes one day while Jayne is splitting firewood.

This crap’s getting’ old, Jayne thinks as he swings the ax forcefully into a big block of hickory, watching as the fragrant wood splits crisply beneath his blow.

Whack. “It’s ‘Jayne’ with a ‘y’. Ain’t a girl’s name.”

Whack. “Was my grandsire’s name and he sure weren’t no girl…”

Whack! “…so fuck off, an’ quit buggin’ me!” Jayne’s bigger and heavier than the older man and when he chokes up on the ax handle and faces the bully, Amos backs up fast. Guess there is somethin’ to bein’ intimidatin’, Jayne decides.

When Jared and Les ride in that evening, they’re in high spirits. Jayne feeds and grooms their horses, then heads back into the cabin. On the plank table in front of Jared sits a bottle of whisky, a wad of cash, a revolver and a box of ammo. Les and Amos are laughing uproariously and taking turns swigging on another bottle before the fire. It’s apparent that something significant has happened.

Pointing at the chair across from him, Jared tells his cousin to have a seat. He nods toward the pistol and asks, “You know how to handle one a them?”

Jayne gives him a look like he’s got shit for brains. “O’course. Been huntin’ with Pa and yer dad since I was eight or ten.”

Jared picks up the weapon, opens the breach and spins the cylinder, checked to be sure it’s not loaded, then hands it to Jayne. He hefts it, savoring the weight and feel of the gun in his hand. A little smile creeps across his face.

“Can you hit anything with it?”

“’Magine I can.” Jayne’s blue eyes sparkle.

“Then,” Jared smiles, “she’s your’n.”

* * *

From time to time, most often during thaws, Jayne hikes down out of the snowy hills, back into Ironton. He always comes during the afternoon when Jedd is at the plant, comes to visit with his Ma and see his sibs when they come in from school.

Annalee’s begun teaching Mattie at home. While his health is fragile and he’s small, he’s bright like Rachel, and makes good progress. Jayne’s infrequent visits are brief, but always an occasion of much happiness, especially for Mattie.

Annalee sits on the settee, knitting a pair of dark mittens. It bothers Jayne that he’s not been able to earn the money he promised his mother, but she never mentions the omission. From what he can gather, it sounds like his father is less abusive but drinking more than ever.

He’s matured quite a bit, more of a man each time she sees him, even begun to grow a mustache. She shakes her head, clucks under her breath, then finally scolds him. “Jayne Cobb, I do wish you’d keep yourself clean-shaven. I cannot abide a man with facial hair.”

Jayne chuckles. This is puzzling. He points at the faded print of Jesus on the wall. “Then what about Him?”

His mother sputters, “Well, that’s, that’s… different. After all, son, Our Lord lived so very long ago, and besides…” Her son snickers and she quickly changes the subject. “So what are you doing for your cousin?”

“Most anythin’ he and his buddies don’t wanna have to do. I’m makin’ out okay, ‘though.”

The woman studies him, her face wistful and etched with regret. “I wish you could come home, son, but I’m just not sure it would be a good idea yet…” She finishes off the second mitten and it’s then Jayne realizes they’re a match to his scarf. “Here.“ Annalee hands the pair to him. “I know you ain’t got no gloves and it gits cold up there.”

He smiles sheepishly. “Thanks, Ma. Best git goin’ if’n I’m gonna make it back before dark. I’ll be back when I can.”

And next time I’ll bring some money.

* * *

“I say he’s too green, Jared. Boy ain’t ready for a job yet.” Amos bangs his fist, rattling the whisky bottle on the table between them.

“Yer full a shit, Amos. Kid’s sharp. He’s got the skill with a cuttin’ torch and this is as good an opportunity as any for us to bring him in. I say we’re takin’ him.” He takes a swallow from the bottle as the door creaks closed behind him.

“Bring me in on what?” Jayne stomps the snow off his boots and shrugs out of his coat. “It’s colder’n forty hells out there, but the snow seems to have stopped for now.” He hangs his coat on a nail, then pours himself a cup of steaming coffee from the pot near the fire. “Still ain’t got no sugar, huh?”

“Nope," Jared replies. “Sit down, Jayne. We got a job comin’ and it’s time you helped us out.”

The big youth slides into a chair at the table with Amos and his cousin and wraps his cold fingers around the warm mug. “Long as it don’t involve shovelin’ no more gorram snow, I’m game. What gives?”

“There’s a little mining town called Owdsley up Bitterroot Gap a ways. End of the month, the safe in the mine office is always fattened up for payday. This month, pay goes out on Monday, but they’ll stock the safe on Friday. Gives us two days to clean ‘er out before they realize the money’s gone.”

Jayne scowls and shakes his head. He blows on his coffee to cool it, looking uneasily from Jared to Amos and back. “What’s robbin’ a pay office gotta do with me?”

“We need a way to get into that safe, Jayne, and ain’t none of us knows how to crack the lock. There’s like to be over ten grand in there. You can use a cuttin’ torch, right?”

“Well, yeah.” Jayne’s stomach tightens up. Cutting into a safe is serious business. Hard time kinda business. But wuo de ma, that’s one helluva a lot of loot.

Jared looks intently at his younger cousin and continues, “Les has checked it out and there’s torches in with the mine equipment. We all been lookin’ out for ya, cuz, but it’s time you was pullin’ yer weight. I’m asking ya to open up this safe for us.” His eyes challenge Jayne’s. “Here’s what it comes down to. If you ain’t willin’, you might just as well toddle on back home.”

Cuttin’ open a safe… damn, that’s a big step… Jayne takes a big gulp of his coffee, welcoming the heat that sears his tongue and fills his gullet. He struggles, thinking about what his Ma would say, thinking ten grand is more than his Pa earns in a whole ruttin’ year.

Jared and Amos just sit, looking at him, giving him time to digest the invitation.

“What’s my share?” he finally asks.

Jared grins and slaps him on the shoulder, then nods at Amos. “Pour the man a drink.”

The amber whisky swirl into Jayne’s coffee.

Pour the man a drink. Yeah, ‘man’ sounds good.

* * *

That’s how it starts for him. A break-in here, a hold-up there - most along the mountain roads and in the settlements up in the hills and mining towns above Ironton. The heavy snows make travel hard but quickly cover the gang’s tracks. Somewhere along the way Jayne acquires a horse and a gun belt and stops being the “kid” in the gang.

In late April, there is a strong early thaw. The bright sunlight makes fast work of the snow and soon the mountain creeks and streams are splashing with icy snowmelt. The wet, fecund smell of the soil reminds Jayne of his mama’s tiny garden and makes him homesick. It’s been nearly ten weeks since he last made it into town, and in that time, he’s accumulated a goodly roll of cash, much of it from that first job. He’s spent a little on gear for himself, and chipped in on food and supplies, but he often lies awake at night, picturing how proud his Ma will be when he lays the money in her hand.

With no jobs planned for the coming week, Jayne decides it’s time for a visit home. He knows better than to let his Ma see him on a horse, carrying a weapon. That would open up a whole ‘verse of questions he has no desire to answer, so he leaves his pistol at the cabin and his horse at the livery stable before walking the final few blocks to his childhood home on Weaver Street.

* * *

From where he sits at the kitchen table in his parents’ home, Jayne hears Mattie coughing heavily in the children’s bedroom. His brother’s been quite ill for over a week. Annalee finishes rubbing his chest with camphor to help his breathing and lays a hot poultice over the pungent, waxy unguent. She brushes the frail boy’s dark hair back from his face. “You rest now, dumplin’. I’m just gonna be in the kitchen talkin’ with Jayne.” Mattie nods and then his eyes sag closed and he sleeps.

Satisfied her youngest is breathing easier, Annalee pulls his door nearly to and takes a seat at the table across from her eldest. She shakes her head. “He’s been real bad off this time, Jayne. Don’t help none the house stays so cold and not bein’ able to git fresh foods fer ‘im. Ain’t had money to bring the doc, neither, so I go on doin’ the best I can.”

It hurts Jayne to see his mother so thin and pinched with worry. “Ain’t Pa workin’?” This was dangerous ground and he hesitates to even mention his father, lest Annalee burst into tears.

The woman sighs heavily, resting her forehead in her hands for a moment before answering. “When he’s sober enough to go in. Much as I hate to admit it, son, things are awful hard fer us.”

“Sounds like you could use this about now.” The tall young man stands and digs into his pants pocket, then hands her the money he’s brought. “There’s near on a thousand there, Ma, an’ I want ya ta have it. You can get better medicine for Mattie, decent food for the rest of ya.” He smiles proudly at her. “Just don’t let Pa take it an’ drink it up. Please?”

“Sweet heaven, son, where did you git all this money?” Annalee is flabbergasted.

Jayne looks at his hands and twiddles his thumbs. “Workin’.”

“But doin’ what, Jayne? This is an awful lot of cash for a boy your age to be carryin’. T’ain’t like we can’t use it, nor that I ain’t grateful, son. I just can’t imagin’ how you come by such.” She studies him pointedly, her sharp sapphire eyes probing for the truth of the thing.

“Weldin’ skills come pretty handy round the mines.”

*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*

Chapter four of thirteen

COMMENTS

Monday, January 8, 2007 2:54 PM

QWERTY


Wonderful as usual...but I'm beginning to get paranoid that my praise is keeping others away. I can't believe you haven't had more readership for this story. :o(

Monday, January 8, 2007 7:48 PM

BLUEEYEDBRIGADIER


I certainly haven't been scared off;)

Definitely still loving what you're doing with this series, HGG! Especially how you are showing the slow and completely understandable path Jayne is taking to his current state of being as crass, self-centred and completely dangerous:D

Though I am wondering if Annalee Cobb's gonna be having a palaver with her eldest soon about his source of income...

BEB

Tuesday, January 9, 2007 3:45 AM

HISGOODGIRL


Thanks, Querty and BEB, I do appreciate your comments and would love to hear from others.

I see young Jayne as making bad choices out of his own desire to prove himself as a man and provide for his family as his father has failed to do. He's driven by good intentions but naieve about the slippery slope he's on.

Annalee's over a barrel, too. She desperately needs the cashy help, but suspects things aren't right. Mom's know....

Sunday, August 21, 2011 7:09 AM

BARDOFSHADOW


All I can say:
Love it!
And I learned something new. Had no idea that Jayne was a variation of John.
Shiny, thanks!


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