Omorphi (34 page)

Christy shook his head and looked away.

“That’s okay. Is your locker near your art class?”

Christy nodded.

Michael withdrew a red pen from his backpack. “Here’s your art class.” Michael drew a small red arrow indicating the direction of the chalkboard in the room. “This arrow tells you which way you’re facing if you’re looking at the chalkboard. Here are the doors. When you leave the room, where’s your locker?”

Christy took the pen from Michael’s hand and wrote a C near the north door.

“It’s right outside the art room?”

Christy nodded.

“Okay, Jake, make a note on your map.” He handed the pen to Jake. “Let’s see if this works.” Michael retrieved the pen. “I’m going to put an arrow on each one of your rooms pointing to the chalkboard so all you have to do is face the chalkboard with the map in front of you and the arrow facing the chalkboard.” Michael took a moment to put red arrows over each room. “Okay, pretend you’re sitting in your art class and you want to know where Jake is. Put the map on your desk with the arrow pointing to the chalkboard like this.” Michael held the map flat in front of him. “Art is your first period class here. If you want to know where we are, find our number ones. See Jake’s blue number one there? And my green number one here?”

Christy nodded.

“That shows you that Jake is closer to you than I am, and you want to go straight ahead when you leave your art room if you want to get to Jake fast. In fact, for today, Jake, why don’t we rendezvous with Christy between each class? At least until lunch, so we have an idea of what we’re dealing with?”

Jake studied the map. “That’ll work. Christy, I can get you after art and drop you at physics on my way to political science. Michael, you grab him from physics and drop him at astronomy…. You’re taking astronomy?”

Christy nodded.

Michael studied the map. “All right, I’ll pick you back up from astronomy and drop you at public speaking. It still cracks me up that you’re taking public speaking.”

Christy mimed scribbling with his hand.

“You write speeches but don’t deliver them,” Michael guessed.

Christy nodded.

“Okay. Jake, looks like you’re closest to him in your college prep class, so you get him from public speaking and take him to phys ed. I’ll pick him up from there, and we’ll meet at our usual lunch table at lunch. How does that sound?”

“Works for me. Christy?”

Christy cleared his throat and croaked, “Wait for you after each class?”

Michael and Jake exchanged looks. “I think it’s a good idea, and if anyone gives you the slightest hassle, hit five on your phone.”

Christy mouthed, “Okay.”

“Okay, babe. Have a great day. See you after physics.” Michael kissed the tip of his finger and dotted it to Christy’s lips.

Christy smiled, his beautiful eyes glistening in the morning sun, and did the same to Michael. With a wave to Jake, he jogged away.

They watched Christy go, and Jake turned to Michael. “Can’t read a map?”

“Doesn’t drive? Held captive? Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Poor kid.”

“Don’t pity him, Jake. It’s the last thing he wants.”

“Got it. You did good with the map, bro. I like the programmed text message too. It’s smart.”

“Let’s hope no one hassles him.”

“You too.”

“Us too,” Michael corrected.

They arrived at Michael’s locker to find “homo” spray-painted in neon orange across it. They exchanged looks before going to Jake’s locker and finding it painted with “fag lover.”

“You’d think they could be more imaginative,” Jake bit off as he kicked the lower locker.

Michael sent a text message to Christy and received nothing in return. They waited in the hallway as the first bell rang. Then both their phones chirped with
HELP
.

Michael dodged students and scaled trashcans like hurdles. Jake made double-time around students and, at one point, climbed up and over an art sculpture, leaping from it without missing a step. They made it to the art bungalow as the first punch connected with Christy’s face. Michael went insane.

“M
ICHAEL
!”
Jake pulled Michael off the guy he was beating to a near pulp.

Michael jumped up and shoved Jake away, and his eyes darted the crowd. The crowd that should have protected tiny Christy. The crowd that didn’t give a shit about Christy.

Michael shouted at the top of his lungs. “What the fuck is the matter with you people? If you ever let this happen again, I’ll hold every one of you responsible! Do you hear me? Write it fucking down! You’re responsible for stopping this kind of shit!” Michael shook Jake’s hand off his shoulder again. “Any of you fuck with Christy, you fuck with me! Spread the word!”

He bent and carefully lifted Christy’s catatonic form. He lay like a limp ragdoll in his arms, his sightless eyes staring blindly at the heavens.

“You’re a bunch of chickenshit bastards!”

Michael carried Christy away, wiping blood from his own cheek with a swipe of his shoulder. “Close his eyes, Jake.”

Jake brushed a palm over Christy’s lids and closed them to small slits. “Where are you going?”

“The nurse’s office. Call my dad’s office.”

No one noticed the wild-eyed, unkempt man who broke from the crowd and walked away in silence.

M
ICHAEL
fought back fury and bled as he sat on the cot in the nurse’s office and held Christy. Christy wouldn’t respond. Christy hadn’t moved a muscle. Christy was alive but dead. “He won’t wake up, Jake.”

“I know. Let’s see what your dad says when he gets here.”

“I swear to God, if Christy doesn’t wake up, I’m going to—”

“Hang tight, bro. Hang in there until your dad gets here.” Jake rubbed his shoulder.

Michael handed Jake the cloth soaked with Christy’s blood. “His mouth is still bleeding.”

“Yeah, he took a good punch, but he’ll be okay. How many punches have you taken and been okay?”

Michael nodded and swallowed back his anguished fury. “How could anyone hit someone so small?”

“I don’t know, man. I don’t know.”

Bobbie burst through the door first, followed by Mac. Nero followed seconds later.

“Oh, for the love of God!” Bobbie released a string of swearwords Michael didn’t even know she knew. She knelt in front of them and began wiping blood from their faces. She turned to Jake and wiped his split lip. “Jesus, Jacob, you too?”

“Couldn’t be helped, Mrs. S. There were four of them. It was ugly.”

“Where the hell was security?” Bobbie demanded angrily.

“They didn’t get there in time.” Jake gave his dad a pointed look.

“Dad, he won’t wake up.” Michael’s words were a plea.

Mac examined Christy’s head carefully and checked each eye with a penlight. “Not to worry, we’ll bring him around in no time.”

“Do you think his jaw is broken?”

Mac examined Christy’s jaw carefully. “No. He’ll have a good bruise. You’ll be twins.”

“What happened, Jacob?” Nero’s question was grave.

Jake gave his dad a condensed version of events. “By the time we got there, three guys surrounded Christy, and one had him on the ground and was hitting him in the face. The crowd stood around and did nothing.”

Nero’s litany of swearwords matched Bobbie’s, save they were in Italian.

Rob came through the door and handed a piece of paper to Mac. “The telephone number of his neurologist is also there.”

“This is easy enough to work with. Any allergies?”

“Not to medication.”

“Nero, get the EMT.”

Nero leaned through the doorway and motioned an EMT over. Mac gave a quiet order, and the EMT injected Christy. He went utterly limp in Michael’s arms. Michael had thought he was limp before, but now he was nothing more than a wet rag. “Dad?”

“He’s all right. Give the sedative a minute to work,” Mac said as he held a stethoscope to Christy’s chest.

“Will you be taking care of the other four boys, Dr. Sattler?” the EMT asked.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Are we free to leave these three with you?”

“Yes. Give me your chart.”

The EMT handed his clipboard over, and Mac looked at the pages quickly and scribbled his signature on each of them. “Nero, sign Jake’s release. Rob, please sign Christy’s release. I might also suggest that you speak to the school’s liaison officer as soon as possible to ensure that the report to Detective Davis is accurate.”

Nero and Rob left the small room, their expressions more unhappy than ever.

“Michael, your diaphragm?”

Michael shook his head. “Didn’t get hit in the stomach.”

“Thank goodness for small favors. Jake, hop up on the exam table, would you?”

Halfway through Mac applying skin glue to Jake’s cuts, Christy came out of it swinging. After a solid hit to Michael’s chest, Michael caught his wrists. “Christy! Christy! It’s all right! You’re okay!”

Christy looked around frantically. “Where is he?”

“He’s gone. You’re okay. Look at me. Look at me.” Christy focused on Michael but still looked terrified. “You with me, babe?” Christy nodded. “You’re safe now.” Michael tucked him slowly against his chest.

Christy took a deep, shuddering breath. “I waited too long to push the five.” Christy coughed, and his words were raw and broken, and Michael could only imagine how much his throat hurt.

“You pressed it. You didn’t freeze up. That’s the important part.”

Christy looked up at Michael with something resembling awe in his eyes. “I did press it.”

Michael smiled down at him. “Yeah, you did.”

Christy suddenly gasped and transformed before Michael’s very eyes from a calming human into a nearly crazed hysteric. He pulled at his shirt frantically. “Off! Off! It must come off! Get the blood off!” Christy lapsed into Greek as his hysteria rose.

What the hell?
“Okay, wait! Let me help you! Mom, help me! Pull his shirt off!”

Michael caught Christy’s wrists, and Bobbie pulled Christy’s shirt up and over his head. In an odd ballet of exchanged movements, Bobbie managed to get the shirt over Michael’s hands while he maintained control of Christy’s flailing arms.

“Okay, Christy, the shirt’s off! It’s gone!”

“It isn’t!”

Christy grabbed at his chest frantically, and Michael saw that the blood had seeped through the shirt and dried on his skin.

“They will make me clean it! It must come off!”

“Hold on, Christy, hold on!” Bobbie slapped a wet paper towel to his chest and wiped at the dried blood vigorously.

“It’s off! It’s gone, Christy! It’s gone!” Michael fought Christy’s frantic limbs and thought, not for the first time, that Christy’s inexplicable fears were enormous. “It’s gone, Christy! It’s gone!”

Christy looked down at his chest and stomach. A strangled whimper escaped him, and he fell against Michael’s chest and labored to breathe. Michael released his wrists and held him again.
Jesus, Christy is full of surprises.
He looked over Christy’s head to find Bobbie staring blankly at Christy’s back. “Mom?”

Her eyes met his, and she shook her head and put a finger to her lips.

“Is he okay?”

She nodded.

Michael looked at Jake and his dad. They also stared at Christy’s back.

“What’s wrong?”

Mac shook his head and mimicked Bobbie with a finger to his lips. “Christy?”

Christy remained silent.

“Christy, will you allow me to examine you?” Mac put a gentle hand on Christy’s arm.

Christy jumped and twisted away. It took both Michael and Bobbie to keep him from falling off Michael’s lap. “It’s all right, it’s all right. It’s only my dad.”

“I only want to examine you, Christy,” Mac reassured.

Christy buried his face against Michael’s chest.

“Can I take a look at your face?”

Christy abruptly sat up and nodded jerkily.

Michael didn’t like the expressions on his mom and Jake’s faces.
What the heck is wrong with Christy’s back?
He’d seen Christy’s back, and it looked okay to him. Or had he? He’d stroked Christy’s back, but it had always been through clothing. When they were in the shower, Christy’s long hair covered his back entirely. He searched his memory and recalled Christy walking into the bathroom, pulling the towel from his waist. Again, Christy’s long, thick hair had covered his back. When he’d dressed Christy, he’d been squatted in front of him. When he’d helped Christy dry his hair or tried to help wrap it in a towel, he’d always been standing in front of Christy. Had he never truly seen or touched Christy’s back?

“I’ll just put this to your chest, Christy, nothing more.” Mac raised the stethoscope, and Christy flinched and pressed it away with a palm.

“Turn around and lean back against me,” Michael encouraged.

Christy collected his hair and put it over his shoulders so it cascaded down his back, then slowly turned and leaned back against Michael. Michael brought him close so he sat squarely in his lap.

Mac examined Christy quickly, checking his head and neck carefully. “You’ll have a wonderful fat lip for a day or two, otherwise I think you’re fine. Nothing a little skin glue won’t fix. Would you like me to take care of Michael’s wounds first as I did with Jake?”

Michael looked over at Jake.

“He hit you?” Christy asked.

Jake looked from Christy to Michael and back again. “The truth is, we hit them.”

“Them?”

“Yeah, them. See, when Michael pulled the guy off you, his friends jumped Michael, and I jumped them, and, well, it turned into a bit of a brawl, and it didn’t stop until they were pretty much laid out.”

Christy half turned and looked at Michael.

“I, ah, I kinda lost it.”

“Michael went crazy. They’ll look bad tomorrow. Few black eyes, couple of split lips and eyebrows, maybe a sore crotch or four. Pretty sure they’ll leave you alone from now on.”

“You fought them because of me?”

Jake glanced at Michael’s parents. “Probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but yeah, we beat the crap out of ’em.”