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Authors: Walter G. Meyer

Rounding Third (21 page)

BOOK: Rounding Third
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Rob had only driven only about a hundred feet when he stopped
the car again.

Rob could see
the fear on Josh’s face. “I haven’t changed my mind,” Rob said. “I almost
forgot my parents’ rules. My mom and dad are okay about you staying and all,
but just still a bit weirded out--dad especially--that you and I are, well, you
know. So he said there was to be no touching. So we have to really play it cool
around them. We managed to not let anyone know for this long we just have to
keep acting like there is nothing going on between us. You’ll be sleeping in my
grandmother’s room downstairs, okay?”

Josh nodded.

“We’re expected
to do all the usual stuff--make our own beds, take out our trash, and stuff.
Till you’re well enough, I’ll take care of that stuff for you, but let me know
if you need anything so my parents don’t have to do much. I don’t want dad to
have the slightest reason to want you out.”

“I want to be
the perfect guest.”

“I’m sure you
will be. I love you. They love you. Meg really loves you.” Rob hoped this last
would get a laugh, and as distraught as Josh was it did bring a partial
smile. 

“Does Meg know
about us?”

     “Yeah,
so teasing her won’t be quite as much fun.”
  

 

 

 

 

                       

 

 

                                                           
27

By the way his mom
casually noticed their arrival, Rob knew she had been watching and waiting. She
had said she was only going to work a half-day. She came swinging into the
living room to welcome Josh, but flinched when she saw him. Tears immediately
formed and she looked away. She forced composure back before she said, “Josh,
it’s so good to have you here. Welcome.”

Rob was surprised to see the daybed newly arranged on the
sun-porch-turned-bedroom and that some of the figurines, porcelain flowers and
other grandmotherly items had been removed. They still referred to it as the
sun porch although it had been enclosed as a bedroom for his grandmother more
than ten years ago, and they still referred to the furnishings in the room as
his grandmother’s, although she had been dead for over five.

There was a
stack of gift-wrapped boxes on the bed and fresh flowers from the garden on the
window ledge. 

“Is it someone’s
birthday?” Josh asked.

“Those are for
you,” Rob said. “Meg’s idea, so she wants to be here when you open them. We
wanted you to feel at home.” He reached out to hug Josh, but his friend stopped
him with a look.

“Right, sorry,”
Rob smiled.

They went back
into the kitchen where the table was nicely set complete with more fresh
flowers.

“Thanks. This is
all...” Josh broke down again. 

Mrs. Wardell
grabbed him and held him in a motherly hug and cooed, “It’ll be okay. You’re
safe now. It’s okay. Let it out.”

When Josh could
compose himself enough he said, “Excuse me,” and left for the bathroom.

“I think there’s
going to be a lot of that for a while,” Rob said.

“I think you’re
right,” his mother nodded.

Rob wondered if
Josh would realize why they had taken down the mirrors in the sun porch and
living room and taken the door off the medicine cabinet in the powder room.

Meg burst onto
the sun porch as soon as she got home from school. Rob and Josh sat in front of
a video game. Rob had brought his TV, DVD and Xbox down from his room so that
Josh would have a better set to watch. Josh protested but Rob said, truthfully,
he rarely watched TV in his room anyway.

“Mom said
you’d...” upon seeing the mess that was Josh’s face, Meg lost her words in
instant tears. She swallowed a few times to try to find her voice. All of Rob’s
and his mother’s attempts to prepare her had apparently failed.

When Meg could
speak she said, “Are you ready to open your presents?”

“You shouldn’t
have,” he protested.

“Yes, we
should,” she said. “And we wanted to.”

“We went
shopping yesterday,” Rob said. “It was her idea. C’mon.”

“Open mine first,”
Meg commanded, handing Josh a box.

“Get mom,” Rob
suggested and Meg disappeared then returned in a moment with their mother.

Josh was still
staring at the first package. “I can’t, I mean, you shouldn’t...” the tears
were starting again.

It took a major
force of will for Rob not to reach out and hold Josh. When Rob could stand it
no longer, he grabbed Meg and thrust her at his friend so she would have no
choice but to hug him until he calmed down. “You, okay?” she asked tenderly.
Josh sniffled and nodded. “Here,” Meg said again handing him a box.

His hands were
shaking so badly she sat next to him on the bed to help him open it. Inside
were a pair a jeans and a shirt. “We figured you’d need a few things.” 

“This is so nice
of you.” He gave Meg a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“She thinks of
you a lot,” Rob joked. “She said she thinks you’ll look sexy in the shirt.”

“If those aren’t
the right size, we saved the receipt” their mother said to change the subject.

“I know his
size,” Rob said with more sureness than was prudent.

Josh looked at
the label to confirm that the jeans would fit. Meg handed Josh the next box.
“From my mom and dad,” she said.

He had relaxed
to the point that he could open this box without help. Inside were briefs and
undershirts and socks. 

“Just like a
mother to give you underwear,” Rob joked.

“He’ll need it,”
she said.

“Yes, I will,
thank you. They gave me these scrubs at the hospital. They cut away my clothes
when they took me in.”

“I knew you’d
need a bunch of stuff, so I went for quantity, not quality,” Rob said handing
Josh the final box from the bed. As Josh opened it, Rob continued, “So it’s not
Abercrombie and Fitch.” As Josh opened the box, he went on, “I got the
three-for-ten-dollar T-shirts, the two-for-fifteen shorts, the cheap sweat
pants...”

“These are
great. Thanks,” he again hugged Meg.

“You’re closer
to Bobby’s father’s size than his, so I’ll get him to go through his closet
with you and see what you might be able to use that he doesn’t wear
anymore.” 

Once again the
emotion rushed over him and he excused himself and fled for the bathroom. Meg
followed, but Rob caught her in the living room. “Let him go,” he said. 
“He’s going to be like this for a while. It’ll just take time.”

“He seems so
broken,” she said.

“Wouldn’t you be
if mom and dad threw you out and told you that you could never come home again?
He’s going to need lots of hugs, and I know you won’t mind this favor a bit.
Since I’m not allowed to do it, will you?” 

Meg smiled. “You
always stick me with the rotten jobs!”

“I knew you’d
hate it.”

“That was really
sweet of you to think of all that stuff. For a stupid little sister you can be
kinda smart sometimes.”

Meg slugged him
in the stomach. “Well, he’ll need clothes to go back to school.”

Josh was coming
out of the bathroom as she said it and answered, “I’m not going back to school.
I can’t. They’d kill me.”

Rob hadn’t
thought about that. Nor apparently had anyone else. 

“Well, you’re no
condition to go anywhere for a while anyway,” Mrs. Wardell said. “So we can
wait until you’re feeling better to figure it out.”

*                     
*                     
*                     
*                     
*
   

After Mrs. Wardell had helped Rob get Josh
settled in for the night, they rejoined Meg and her father in the living room.
The uncomfortable silence only lasted a few minutes before Meg suggested a
movie and pulled a comedy from their selection of DVDs.

The movie was nearing the happily-ever-after ending
that no one was really buying when there was the sound of glass shattering,
followed by a voice screaming “Fucking faggots!” and the sound of a car
speeding off. There was the squeal of tires and the sound of car tires racing
back toward them.

“Get down!” Mr. Wardell yelled as he shoved
Meg off the couch from where she had been sitting next to him. He darted to the
gun cabinet and fumbled to get his keys out as the sound of several more glass
explosions on the porch joined with more shouted obscenities. By the time he
had his pistol in hand, the car had sped off.

Rob started to get up from the floor where he
had dropped next to his mother.

“Stay down,” his father ordered and Rob
stayed on his knees. “All of you, just stay put.” He headed into the kitchen
and a moment later they heard the kitchen door open.

Rob looked into the frightened eyes of his
mother then the angry eyes of his sister.

His father returned, his gun still in his
hand. “They’re gone. No real damage, just some broken beer bottles.”

Rob suddenly jumped up. “Josh!” He ran into
the sun porch. By the time he returned to the sun porch door his family was
behind him. “He’s still asleep.”

“Good,” Mrs. Wardell said. “The drugs must
have kicked in. He doesn’t need to be any more frightened than he has been.”

They breathed a sigh in unison.

“Bobby,” Mr. Wardell said, “What about school
tomorrow?”

“What about it?”

“Are you going?”

“Don’t I have to?”

“I’m not sure I want you to. Not after what
happened to Josh. And what just happened tonight.”

“What am I supposed to do? Drop out?”

“You could get hurt. Very hurt. You saw what
they did to Josh.”

“I have to go back to school sometime.”

“I’m not sure about tomorrow...”

“Then when? Just hide for a year or two?” Rob
was surprised to hear himself arguing to go to school rather than be allowed to
skip.

    
The next morning, Mr. Wardell insisted on taking his children to school. Rob
felt like he was entering a maximum security prison. With each step he felt his
legs get a little shakier. He could feel his father’s eyes on him and he didn’t
dare turn back.

    
Rob and Meg parted at the front door and she headed down the hall toward the
sophomore homerooms. She looked back, smiled and winked.

    
The school looked no different, but the insidious creepiness he had always felt
in these halls had crystallized into an ominous presence. He heard several
mumbled comments as he walked the halls all day, but the only words he heard
distinctly and often were
queer
and
fag
.

    
Rob ran home after school to find Josh still asleep. Rob went outside to do a
little yard work and his heart sank when he saw FAGGITS painted across the
garage door. He didn’t know when that had happened; he hadn’t seen it when he
left for school.

As his first chore of the day, he got out the
white paint with the intention of just painting over the graffiti, but when he
did, the blotch was still noticeable so painting the entire garage door was
pretty much all he got done all afternoon. He didn’t want his father to see it
and be more upset or have any reason to throw Josh out. When he went back in
the house he found Josh laying on the day bed, just staring at the ceiling.

    
“Hey,” Rob said, but the reunion was quickly quashed by Meg’s bolting in the
front door and coming directly to Josh’s room. Her chipper smile faded fast
when she saw Josh’s sad condition again and she had to work hard to re-implant
her happy face.

    
After trying to cheer Josh up for a few minutes, an attempt which made as much
headway as a cup of water poured on a blistering hot sidewalk would have at
cooling the concrete, Meg left to start dinner.

    
“Soft stuff, okay?” Rob suggested.

    
“Gotcha. How about mashed potatoes and I’ll make pudding for dessert?”

    
It was a sad dinner with every attempt at livening the mood evaporating before
it could take hold. Meg again was ready with a fun movie, this time insisting
Josh join them. The movie was half-over when the sound of a speeding car caused
the family to tense and Josh to look at them in surprise. A bottle shattered
against the front porch and the cry of “Goddamn queers!” echoed in its wake.
Rob ran to the front window and, standing off to the side, peered out.

    
“Get down!” his father ordered.

    
“I want to see whose car it is.”

    
The car did a return pass as it had the night before and several more beer
bottles again splintered as someone shouted, “You should’ve died, fag!” 

    
“It’s Brickman’s car,” Rob said.

    
“I’m calling the police. We should’ve last night,” his father said. Rob noticed
his father had the .22 in his hand, but was holding it down at his side away
from Josh and the family.

    
Mrs. Wardell grabbed the phone and dialed. After she hung up she said, “I used
to think this was a nice little town.”

“I’m sure that is what Matthew Shepard
thought about Laramie,” her husband said.

“Who?” Meg asked.

“A student at the University of Wyoming
who...”

“Oh Christ, Bob, don’t even think that!” his
wife cut him off.

“I’m not sure it’s safe with him here,” Mr.
Wardell said.

“I’m not sure it would make any difference.
We’re in this now,” his wife protested.

“I should go.” Josh said and all eyes turned
to him.

“Go where?” Mrs. Wardell asked.

With a firm look, she implored her husband to
say something and he said, “You’re not going anywhere tonight. Marilyn, why
don’t you help Josh get to bed.”

    
The police took a report, but seemed relieved that Rob didn’t have a license
number for Brickman’s car, which gave them an excuse to do nothing. Mr. Wardell
demanded, “How many ’67 Camaros are there in this town that have flames painted
on the hood?”

    
Rob didn’t sleep well, and apparently neither did the rest of the family,
because he heard lots of walking in the halls as he performed his nocturnal work
out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                           
28

Rob was staring
out the window when Edward DeLallo, the office nerd, came into his homeroom. Rob’s
thoughts had taken him so far away that it took Mr. Hacker’s calling his name a
third time to rouse him. When he did look up, Hacker beckoned him to his desk,
handed him a hall pass and said, “Mr. Hudson wants to see you in his homeroom.
Now.”

    
Rob glanced at the pass that granted him permission to go to room 110. Edward
gave Rob a curious looking over and then flipped his hair back out of his face
and, with his usual flourish, exited the room. 

    
Rob had no idea what Coach Hudson could want this long from baseball season,
but Rob wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. He was no sooner in the hall than
the bell sounded sealing the rest of the students in their rooms. As Rob walked
the empty halls they rang with echoes of the Pledge of Allegiance rasping from
tinny speakers in every room. The morning announcements were underway when he
reached 110 in the freshman wing. He hesitated for a moment outside the door
unsure if he should knock or just enter. While he was considering this, Coach
Hudson looked up from his desk and saw Rob through the wire-mesh window. The
coach rose and came out into the hall, letting the door close behind him. The
teacher looked solemnly at the student. Rob had seen many of the coach’s moods
and looks, but couldn’t place this one.

           
The older man almost pinned the boy to
the wall with his body, so close Rob could smell his shaving cream and coffee.
“I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

    
“Coach?” Rob asked, surprised and a little scared. 

    
“I’ve been hearing stories. Schlagel hasn’t come back to school yet and you
missed Tuesday. I saw Taylor in the hall yesterday and when I asked him what
was up, you’d have thought I’d caught him raiding the chicken coop. Now you’re
going to tell me what’s up.” The coach leaned even closer. His nose was almost
touching Rob’s. “Homeroom is almost over. When it is, you and I are going to my
office and we’re going to talk.”

    
“I have European History first period.”

    
“History will wait. I’ll give you a pass. Wait here. Don’t move.”

    
The coach didn’t seem to be angry with Rob, but there was a firmness in his
tone Rob had only heard once before, when the opposing pitcher had thrown a
bean-ball at Josh. Hudson returned to his room, and Rob’s back which had been
held rigidly to the wall, now slumped. Homeroom ended in a nanosecond and Rob
hadn’t had time to think of what to tell Hudson. The halls flooded with
students walking past where Rob tried to fuse into the wall. 

BOOK: Rounding Third
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