Omorphi (27 page)

Feet stomped the floor, and people cheered.

This was far too much flattery for Michael. He wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table but knew he had to say something. He stood. “Thanks, Coach. For four years, you have given us your all. You’ve been there for us, through thick and thin, our doubts, our injuries, and our triumphs. I know I’m not alone when I say we couldn’t have done it without a great coach like you. I will treasure these memories forever, and I’m going to miss you.” The room erupted again, and Michael waited until the noise died down. “As our old friend Aristotle said, we are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit. You can’t teach a person to run. You can’t teach a person courage. These are things we came with and built upon. All of you are phenomenal athletes who consistently put 110 percent into everything you do. Today, you ran like the wind and never let them get the best of you. None of you can know what glorious feels like until you lead a team like ours. I’ve loved being your captain, and you’ve made my life incredible over the past four years. I can only hope that I’ve given back half as much as all of you have given me. I’m going to miss all of you, but this isn’t an end for us. This is our time. This is a new beginning.
Tempus fugit! Carpe diem!
” Michael threw his fist into the air, and the room erupted again.

The music resumed, and Michael retook his seat and blew a long breath. Jake reached across the table and ruffled his hair. “Excellent, bro!”

Michael wanted to hug Jake, partly out of camaraderie and a whole lot out of relief that his speech was over.

“Aw, man, you can’t look at me like that!” Jake stood, reached across the table, knocking the salt and pepper shakers over, and hugged Michael. “You did good, Michael. Real good.”

Michael hugged Jake tighter. Their school years were coming to an end, and he couldn’t imagine not having Jake in his life every day. “Thanks, Jake,” he said into his ear.

“Don’t emo, man.”

Michael squeezed Jake hard before forcing himself to let go.

Coach O’Malley came over and put his hand out. Michael shook it. “I’m going to miss you,” they said in unison and burst into laughter.

“Good luck in everything you do, Michael.”

“Back at you, Coach. Thanks for a great four years.”

He smiled warmly, then turned to shake Jake’s hand. “Good luck, Jake. I know you’ll make a fine lawyer.”

“Thanks, Coach. It really has been a great four years. Thanks for everything.”

“You have a couple of real terrific sons here. I know they’ll go far. Don’t hesitate to let me know if I can do anything for them.”

“Thank you, Coach O’Malley,” Mac said as he shook his hand.

“Thank you for being good to our boys. You’re a fine coach,” Nero said as he shook his hand.

“You’re more than welcome, Nero. Mrs. Santini, Mrs. Sattler, thank you for being there as well.” He made a gesture as if to tip his hat before walking away.

Michael retook his seat, still a little nervous. When he felt Christy’s hand on his thigh, he covered it with his own and felt whole once again.

“He is the nicest man,” Bobbie complimented.

“Our boys are very lucky,” Anna agreed. “
Tempus fugit, carpe diem
? My, you do have a way with Latin, Michael.” Anna always pronounced his name the Italian way, MEE-ke-le.

“Thanks, Mrs. Santini. Those were Jake’s and my favorite words when we used to sword fight in the backyard with broomsticks. I thought they worked for the moment.” He turned to Christy. “How do you say it in Greek?”

Christy quickly scribbled a bunch of Greek letters on his pad and held it up.

“Oh right, like I can read that.”

“Let me see,” Sophia said taking the pad from Christy. “Ah, yes, he has it correct.”

Jake looked at the pad. “Yeah, but how do you say it?”

“
O chrónos kylá, adráxei tin iméra.
”

She said it so fast their heads spun. Michael and Jake exchanged looks and burst into laughter.

“How do you say ‘you’re beautiful’ in Greek?” Jake asked, making little effort to hide his amusement.

“
Eisai ómorfi.
”

Jake repeated her words, pronouncing them perfectly.

“
Efharistó!
Thank you!”

Michael leaned in to Christy.
“Eisai ómorfi
.”

Christy blushed, quickly putting the back of his hand to his lips to hide a monumental smile.

Sophia giggled. “This is not what you say to a man! You say
eisai ómorfos!
”

Christy frowned, all humor lost, as if unhappy she’d changed the compliment to the masculine form.

She giggled again. “Perhaps for Christy you can say
ómorfi agóri
.”

Christy gave her a token nod, his smile somewhat restored.

“What’s the difference between the three?” Michael asked.

“The first is the feminine form. ‘You are pretty.’ The second is the masculine form. ‘You are handsome.’ For Christy we might use the masculine boy with the feminine pretty. In English, you could say ‘pretty boy.’”

“I can definitely go with that,” Michael said. Christy smiled up at him.

“
Splendido!
” Anna added.

Jake chuckled at her sudden and rare outburst. “Easy, Mama. You might break something.”

Everyone laughed.

“Goddamned faggot!” someone shrieked.

The music came to an abrupt halt, and the room quieted. Michael looked up and found the source of the pejorative and guttural tone. There stood Jason, no more than ten feet away, with a gun aimed at Michael’s head.

T
ERROR
filled Michael’s veins, he struggled for calm as hysteria welled within, and he fought the innate urge to duck beneath the table. If he moved one way, he’d lose his mom. If he moved the other, he’d lose Christy. The only thing he could think to do was to stand so Jason’s aim was above them. “Jason,” he breathed as he slowly rose to his feet. “What are you doing, man?”

“I’m ridding this world of another fucking queer! That’s right, you fuckin’ fairy! You had the balls to lecture me about not embarrassing the team and the school, and look at you! Look at you! You’re a fucking butt pirate! You disgraced us! You shamed us! You shamed me! You’re sick! You’re diseased! You’re a pox on the earth! God will send you to hell, Michael!” Jason’s voice had risen to an ear-splitting shriek. He moved frenetically, his body disjointed from his words, his eyes unsteady, flicking about the room, frantically looking for others to persecute. “How could you? How could you be queeeeeer?”

Jason’s hysterical shrieks filled the room and sent an ice-cold chill down Michael’s spine. He could only envision Jason opening fire and killing him and everyone he loved.
Where the hell was security?

“Jason, how about we go in the back and talk about this?”

“Talk? You want to talk? I don’t want to fucking talk to you! You’re a sick fuck! I want to get rid of all of you sick fucking ass fuckers! Stand your little faggot boyfriend up! Christy, stand up and join your fudge-packing boyfriend!”

When he felt Christy rise next to him, he put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. “Keep Christy down, Mom,” Michael said softly.

Jason laughed, a sickly, shrieking thing that seemed to cling to the walls like a pus-filled canker. “You think your mom can protect your little fag boyfriend? How about I shoot her first?”

Michael moved, deliberately squashing his mom between him and the wall. “You don’t want to do that, Jason.”

Jason looked at Michael now, a deep, rotting pain in his eyes. “You so fucking sure about that? You’re always so fucking sure about everything!”

“Jason, put the gun down.”

“Fuck you, you goddamned freak!”

“Jason, you can’t give up your whole life because you’re pissed off at your mom.”

“I have to get rid of all of you! I’ll get rid of all of you if it’s the last thing I do!”

“Please don’t, Jason.”

Someone nudged Michael’s calf from beneath the table. He glanced down surreptitiously to see one of the security guards urging his mom beneath the table.

“You fucking faggots have screwed up the whole world! My mom’s a fucking lesbian! Why’d you guys do that to her!”

Michael felt his mom slide down next to his legs. A second later Christy slid beneath the table on the other side of him. He moved left and away from the table, away from everyone precious to him. “Jason, listen to me. Gays don’t make lesbians, and lesbians don’t make gays. You have it all wrong, bro.”

Jason smashed a fist first to an eye, then to his forehead in agitation, his movements becoming increasingly frenetic. The gun began to dip and aim toward the floor. “No! You made her do it!”

“No, man.”

“You’re a faggot!”

“Jason, listen to me. Your mom loves you. Your dad loves you. Your brother, Matt, loves you, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.”

“Nooooo!” Jason shrieked and raised the gun to aim at Michael’s head again.

Michael froze and balled his hands into fists in a futile effort to stop them from shaking. He’d never been so scared in his life. Jason could shoot him at any moment. His life would be gone, winked out in a split second, a mere flame snuffed in the wind. He’d only begun to live. He had so many more years ahead of him. So many things he had yet to discover. So many things he had yet to understand. He breathed in courage as terror tangled his rational thought.
Basics. Stick to basics.
It was his rule when he tried to inspire the team. “Have you eaten, Jason? I know how hungry you get after we run.”

“What the fuck do you care? You want to feed me your dick?”

Michael let the remark roll off his back and crept forward.

“I bet you haven’t slept either, right? You look tired.”

“Don’t! Don’t do this! Don’t do your fucking captain bullshit!” Jason shrieked.

Michael halted. “Can’t help it, man. It’s what I do. And you’re my four-hundred-meter man. Don’t forget that. The team can’t survive without you. Gotta have you on the team.”

“Nooooo!” The word came out in an anguished sob.

“You’re our best four-hundred-meter man, Jason. The best on the team.”

“On the team,” Jason whimpered.

“That’s right.” Michael took another step forward.

“The best four-hundred-meter man.”

“That’s right. There’s nobody better than you.” Michael took another step.

“Nobody better than me.”

“That’s right.” Michael placed his hand carefully over Jason’s and guided the gun to point at the floor as he encircled Jason’s neck with his free arm and hugged him. “That’s right, Jason, you’re the best,” he said softly.

The gun fell from Jason’s hand, and security tackled him from behind. A frenzied fight ensued, and guttural shouts filled the air. Somehow, some way, Jason managed to break free from four security guards, streak down the back hall, and out the back door.

Michael stood stock-still, drowning in shocked disbelief and unmitigated fear.

“G
ET
away from me!” Michael insisted for the thousandth time to the EMTs as he held Christy while he vomited into a toilet. Christy had started vomiting while hiding under the table and hadn’t stopped. He stroked Christy’s rogue hair back and kissed his clammy forehead. “It’s all right, babe. Everything’s okay, now.”

Bobbie was as pale as a ghost, and Mac, steadily checking Christy’s vital signs, looked considerably more aged. Jake simply held Sophia in his arms, her lively self seemingly gone to another planet. Anna helped Bobbie rinse cloths for Christy while simultaneously handing cool cloths to Jake for Sophia’s forehead.

“She going to be okay?” Michael asked.

“In shock,” Jake said softly.

Michael shook his head in abject disgust. Bobbie handed him another cloth as Christy retched again, only bile left in his stomach.

“Dr. Sattler? We need to transport them to the hospital,” the EMT said.

“I’ll assume responsibility for them. Please give Christy twenty milligrams of Phenergan to stop his vomiting.”

“We need a statement from him before you knock him out,” a police officer said.

Mac turned to the officer, his anger plain on his face. “Neither Christy nor Sophia are in any condition to give a statement. As the attending physician, I must insist that you wait at least a day to speak with them.”

“And who are you?”

“Dr. Macarthur Sattler.”

“I don’t know—”

“It isn’t a request.” Mac’s tone was uncharacteristically harsh. An injection hit Christy’s thigh, and he was asleep in Michael’s arms within moments.

“Let’s get out of here,” Michael griped.

M
ICHAEL
carried Christy into the cabin. Rob had shoved the living room furniture aside and moved three more beds into the vast room. Michael guessed that had occurred at the request of his dad. It would make it easier for him to watch them through the night if they were all in one place. He gently laid Christy in bed, and Mac checked his vital signs again.

Jake laid Sophia in the bed next to Christy’s, and Bobbie checked her vital signs. “She’ll sleep for the remainder of the night,” she assured Jake.

“She okay?” Jake asked, worried.

“She’ll be fine by morning. Don’t let her move around too quickly when she wakes. She may be dizzy, and make sure she drinks plenty of fluids.”

Michael began to remove Christy’s putrid clothing. Though relieved to find that Christy wore boxer shorts and he didn’t have to explain lace panties to anyone, sadness tinged his heart. He wanted Christy to be whoever he wanted to be whenever he wanted. “Where are you guys going to be, Dad?”

“Rob gave us the cabin just across the lawn,” Mac answered quietly.

“We’ll check on you through the night,” Bobbie added.

Michael glanced at Rob. “Are we going to have security for the night?”

“Indefinitely,” he answered solemnly.

“Jacob, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll send someone over with clothes for you in the morning,” Nero said softly, uncharacteristically tender for the big, boisterous man.