Epilogue: Jack's Farewell
Message to Jennifer and Abigail.

NOTICE: THIS WAS NEVER AIRED. IT WAS TAPED, BUT INSTEAD, THE DAY FOLLOWING JACK's LEAVING, AUSTIN READ JACK'S GOOD BYE NOTE TO JENNIFER. THE WORDS WERE NOT JACK'S. THIS *IS* JACK'S. IT WAS MATTHEW'S CREATION, AND WHO BETTER TO PUT INTO JACK'S WORDS AND FEELINGS THAN HE. IT WAS TO BE A VIDEO GOODBYE, AND FROM WHAT I GATHER JENNIFER WOULD PLAY IT THE NEXT DAY. FOR ME WHAT AIRED WAS THE APOCRYPHA GOOD BYE, AND THIS WAS JACK'S *REAL* GOODBYE.

 

JACKS LOOKS AT PHOTO OF HIMSELF, JENNIFER AND ABIGAIL ON THE TABLE. HE PUTS IT DOWN, THEN MOVES TO PICK UP A PAD AND TRIES A TO WRITE NOTE.

(Jack Crumples up the paper) Damn! You've written what you thought under The Spectator headline for the last four years.... and now you.... ( he spots the video camera - same business, he sits) Jennifer.... 'Miss Horton' — you know I remember the first time I saw you in The Spectator office — filing — I don't know, something to get you college credit.... and aspiring 'cub' reporter and me, an aspiring 'cub' publisher. You stole my heart. From the moment I say your face, you stole my heart. It's been quite an adventure hasn't it? I set out to teach you, and yet you taught me — you taught me so much more that I could ever hope to learn; about being human, caring, feelings — and yet with those feelings there comes a price — feeling the fear of losing you — of losing our child.... our Abigail. You know I could never say her name out loud for fear of getting too close and losing her . . .like.... and now I'm losing her anyway, I am — and you too. "The sins of the Father are visited upon the son or daughter" — I don't know, that keeps running through my head. Four years ago, before I met you, I owned many companies. In one of them I knowingly allowed toxic waste to be dumped into an area that affected a school full of children, I remember shrugging it off saying, "Kids get hot flashes and break out with red dots on their face, it's called adolescence." Still, I was caught. I cleaned it up and did my "mea culpa,", the children recovered and I went on with my life — as if it were that simple. In meeting you I began to believe that it was that simple — I could put this Harper/Duke madness behind me — "my two dad" — they were the sick ones who did horrible things, not me . I really came to think that I was above it — above them. I was blinded by my ego and pride — and by you.... by seeing only you. (Pauses, regains his train of thought). Actually I have Victor to thank for showing me the light today. I'm sure he'll be glad to fill you in later on the details — but suffice it to say that Tract 5 was my responsibility. It belonged to me through one of Harper's companies which he let me head up while I was in college. I didn't know what I was signing, and more importantly I didn't really care to know — but I am the one who authorized the dumping. I am the one who's ultimately responsible for my own child's illness. I think now that subconsciously I was afraid to go out and help you look — I could research from home or the office, but looking out for sites.... I think that deep down I might have known I was connected — still I was blind and I didn't connect, till it all came tumbling down. I want you to be happy Jennifer, (somehow, after all of this - hah!) I suppose if this was three, four years ago I could push you away to and Emillio or a Francoise — but that was before I came to truly know you.... hold you.... love you. I can't find it in myself to push you to anyone now — still I cannot have you myself. I feel that if Duke would have left earlier — Steve Adrienne and myself.... we might have been a family. If Harper had left early on, I might have been totally different — maybe I could've really taught you something. That's why I'm leaving.... to see — to give you and Abigail that chance — we'll see together. — Perhaps someday I'll come back.... someday. — This is the most painful thing I've ever had to do. Just know that I'll be watching you.... feeling you. I'll see you and Abigail in everything — everything. I love you.... love.... no one will ever love you the way I love you.... "