Shooting Matt Ch. 12

I turn around. I feel a smile working its way toward my face. I'm anxious to see how my little pest has turned out.

"Nena, I'm sor..." The rest of the sentence dies in my throat, where it begins to swell and choke off my breath. Leon is standing behind her.

"Hello, Randy," he says.

Glenna turns her head to look at him, surprised.

Liam turns as well. "You know my dad?"

Leon nods.

"Leon?" I manage to croak.

"Leon? No, pop, this is Lee." Liam's eyes open slightly. He turns to Leon again. "Wait a minute. You're Leon? Leon from college?"

Leon nods. "I shortened it to Lee after college," he explains.

"You knew Liam's dad in college?" Glenna demands. "The kid's the spittin' image of his father. You had to know. Why didn't you say something?"

"I intended to but then the situation yesterday and, well, I didn't get a chance."

"Bullshit," she snaps. "You had plenty of time the first night."

"That's true," he admits in a soft voice. "But, Glenna, can't you see how it might take me some time to figure out exactly what to say?"

She doesn't say anything but the razor-sharp lines around her mouth soften a little.

"Leon? Is that really you?" I whisper. He nods. I turn to Glenna, the woman who grew out of the little girl I knew as 'Nena'. "Nena? Oh, my God, you're all grown up." She smiles. "I was expecting a little string bean of a girl. I mean, that's dumb I know but it doesn't seem like you should be grown up and so damn beautiful. Christ a'mighty." I look past her at Leon. "And you married this guy? My old friend from college? Unbelievable. I mean, talk about fucking crazy. Damn."

"Well, you weren't having me so I settled for Lee." She turns to him and puts an arm around his waist. "I should say he settled for me, I suppose." She pats his chest with her free hand.

Matt is standing in the doorway of the bathroom, eyes going from one face to another. The one he stops on is Liam's. He smiles at my son. When he opens his arms, Liam walks toward him. He hugs him, gingerly, afraid of hurting his back. We all turn away when they kiss, not from embarrassment but to give them a smidge of privacy. My heart twinges a little but not as much as I had feared.

You're never too old, or too young, for a crush, I tell myself. I have Matt to thank for knocking me off the fat comfortable stool I'd plopped myself on and called a life. If he makes my son happy, so much the better.

"Hold on to your shorts," Matt tells the others, breaking the kiss. "Look at this shit."

He turns. Glenna's hand goes to her mouth. Leon's eyes narrow.

"It's a beauty, huh?" Matt gushes, or pretends to.

"Honey, are you okay?

"I'm sore but that's about it."

"It is, is it?"

We all turn to look past Leon, searching for the deep, and somewhat irritated voice.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd like to see my patient now," the voice rumbles.

Leon and Glenna shuffle into the room and move toward the window. Liam is still standing beside Matt, one arm around his waist. The look on his face practically begs the doctor to ask him to move.

"You must be the Oracle of God," Matt beams.

Behind the doctor I see Kent give Matt a look of exaggerated horror.

"I'm Dr. Price," the voice rumbles. "If you want a humble doctor, go find one with something to be humble about."

"Really? Wow, good one, doc," Matt chuckles, as unperturbed as ever.

"Would you mind having a seat on the bed?" Dr. Price requests.

"Sure thing," Matt chirps.

"You need help?" Liam asks.

"Nope, but thanks," Matt says as he walks to the bed, turns and sits down, still swathed in the bath towel.

"Mr –",Dr. Price looks down at the chart in his hand. "Mr. Synder..."

"Matt," Matt tells him. "You know like: what do you call a quadriplegic on the floor? Matt. Matt, not Mr. Synder."

Price stares at Matt over the top of his glasses, as if he's an exotic species of bug he's never seen before.

"Matt," he says with a sigh. "May I see you stand up please?"

Matt stands, there's a hitch as his hips leave the bed, but he stands.

"Very good. Can you walk toward me please?"

He does.

"Good, very good. Can you walk on your toes? Excellent. How about on your heels? Excellent. Very good, please have a seat."

Matt sits down. Liam stands at the head of the bed.

"Young man would you mind..."

"Liam. His name is Liam," Matt tells Dr. Price. "He's my friend, Liam. That's his dad, also a friend, Randy and that's Glenna and Leon, also good friends."

Price is clearly befuddled. I see Kent's face turning red, whether from embarrassment, anger or fear is impossible to tell. Finally, Price nods his head. "Pleasure meeting you." We nod back in unison, at least the three of us by the window.

"Liam, would you mind pushing that button," Price says, pointing. Liam pushes the button. The bed rises.

"Okay, that's fine," Price tells him. Liam takes his finger off the button and the bed stops moving.

Price proceeds to roll a pin wheel gizmo over Matt's feet and legs, touch them with a wisp of cotton, test his strength and his reflexes, periodically muttering, "Good, very good, and excellent," at intervals.

He walks around to our side of the bed. Against my will, I feel myself cower back toward the window.

"Well, young man, you're right about one thing. That is a beauty," he says looking at the bruise on Matt's back.

"What happened?"

I feel, more than see, Leon stiffen.

"I was screwing around on some rocks, slipped, landed on top of one with my back."

Price nods his head, as if expecting nothing less than such cavalier foolishness.

"Well, as I believe the ER physician told you the spinal canal is intact and the MRI showed no evidence of bruising or injury to the spinal cord itself. I do think a short course of steroids, to reduce the risk of late swelling, is prudent. You did fracture the spinous process of L4, one of the lower vertebrae in your back. That is often quite painful."

"Yup," Matt interrupts. "You got that right."

"Are you in school? Working? What type of work?"

"In school. I swim for State."

"Indeed? Excellent. My sport was lacrosse."

"Not polo?" Matt chirps.

I don't know if anyone else sees it but Dr. Price's mouth desperately tries to not twitch into a smile.

"No," Dr. Price replies. "They closed the stables years earlier, back when father was a student." His Beacon Hill accent is so perfect I'm sure he must be from Boston.

Matt starts to laugh and stops with a wince. "No fair, doc. Save the good ones for when I can enjoy them."

"Sorry, Matt." Dr. Price sounds human. I shake my head. The fucking kid could charm Putin into giving Crimea back. Jesus. "Lay back in the bed, please."

Matt lies back.

"Raise your right leg."

Matt does, and a huge smile lights up his face. He knows he's flashing those of us sitting along the window. I glance over. Leon glances away quickly. Glenna is frankly staring and tips Matt a wink.

"Hold it up," Price instructs and then presses down with one hand. Matt's smile fades. He grimaces as the doctor slowly pushes his leg down. "I'm sorry if that hurt, Matt. Strength'so bad, though." He has Matt go through the same maneuver with his left leg. The left leg starts to drift toward the bed even before Dr. Price presses on it.

"Don't worry about that too much, Matt. Your legs aren't weak due to an injury to the cord but from the pain when you tighten the paraspinous muscles to stabilize your back. When do you start serious training?"

"Yesterday," Matt replies.

Price nods. "Of course, let me re-phrase. When do you report back to school?"

"August 1^st."

"Hmm," Price murmurs, rubbing his chin. "Here's what I'm struggling with, Matt. One option would be to let you train. Have the rehab guys give you some exercises for strengthening your back muscles and let you start swimming as soon as the pain allows. My concern is that the strain could prevent the fracture from healing. If that's the case you could require surgery to wire it together, to help it mend. The other option is to simply do that now. That'll delay you getting back into the water for a least two weeks, maybe longer, depending on how you heal. That's cutting it close for getting you back in shape. But if we wait and you end up needing surgery in a few weeks, I don't think you'll be ready to swim this season."

"I have to swim," Matt says. For the first time since I've known him there is not a trace of a joke in his face or his voice. "I'm on a scholarship. Swimming isn't optional. Can we do the surgery tomorrow?"

"Hold up, Matt," a voice says from behind me. I turn my head. Leon moves from the bench to the foot of Matt's bed. "Don't rush into such a big decision so quickly. This is my fault." I see Liam nod his head. What's that all about? "You don't have to rush this, any of this. If you can't swim by the start of the meet season, I can spot you the money for college. Don't let money make the decision for you."

"I don't want your money, Lee. I want to swim."

"I know that," Leon answers in the same mild tone I found so infuriating in my youth. "I want you to swim too and I'm not anxious to part with money if I don't need to. All I'm saying is you can take the doctor's first option, try getting your back in shape without surgery. If that doesn't work, it doesn't mean you have to give up on school."

"Matt, that's something to think about," Dr. Price agrees. "If the spine can heal without surgery that would be best. Anytime we start cutting, we're creating new areas of weakness. If that's what we must do, I can make it work but the best surgery is always going to be the one you don't need. The spinal cord is safe. It's mostly a matter of how much pain there is and how long it takes to improve."

"Okay," Matt says with a nod. "Can I get outta here then?"

"This unit, yes. But I would like you to spend a couple of days on the inpatient rehab floor downstairs to get you started on the correct exercise for you back."

"Just two days?"

"Two or three," Price counters.

"A couple usually means two, right?"

"Now I know why tigers eat their young," Price mutters.

Four voices, mine, Liam's, Leon's and Matt's intone, "Easy Money." I add, "Rodney Dangerfield and Joe Pesci".

Dr. Price looks at us and shakes his head. He looks at Kent. "Come on, Kent, let's keep moving, shall we?"

"Yes, Dr. Price."

"Don't you mean 'Oracle of God'?" Price glares but his lips twitch. This time Kent sees it as well.

"No, sir. I've never heard that one before, doc."

"Uh-huh."

They leave the room. As they do, Kent turns and gives Matt the evil eye.

I stand up and my knee pops. Getting old fucking sucks.

"Liam, I'm heading back. I got the house half torn apart. I don't trust that old rust heap of yours to make it back and forth from the resort to here. I'm in the motel down the block. I'll pay for three more nights, so you can stay close by. I'm assuming you want to stay close by?"

"That's sick, pop. Baller. Thanks"

"I don't know what the fuck that actually means but you're welcome."

"Do you have to go back, Randy," Glenna asks, putting her hand on my arm. "Want don't you come back with us? Spend a couple days in the boys' cabin. No point in letting it go to waste."

"That's a great idea, Glenna," Matt offers, swinging his legs off the bed and sitting up. "You should do it, Randy. See if you can still water ski."

Liam nods.

I have the house to put back together. I don't have time for this.

"Why not?" I hear myself say.

***

I follow Leon's Impala back to the resort. I don't need to. I remember the way. I pull up beside them. Glenna rolls down the window and points toward the cabin. I nod. She tells me to come down and have supper with them. The boys hadn't had time to buy any supplies. I thank her and ask her where the closest store is. She directs me to the Kroger's.

I have nothing, almost literally, to drop off at the cabin. I turn the truck around and find myself at Kroger's. I sit there, trying to recall something of the drive. Nothing. It is entirely possible I have somehow been teleported from the resort to this parking space.

I wander up and down the aisles, filling my cart - milk, coffee, veggie tray, watermelon, swim trunks, water shoes, chips, beer, soda, lunch meat – doing so as mindlessly as I had driven here. And, unlike the last few days, my mind is not occupied with Matt. It's Leon I'm thinking about. And Glenna. I drag a large wheeler cooler behind me to the checkout line and fill it with 20 pounds of ice and beer and soda.

I'm slightly more aware of the lake off to my right as I drive back. I park and unload. The small fridge will barely close. I give myself credit for having the foresight to buy the ice and cooler. I brush my teeth. Look at the clock. Debate. Stall by fishing out 12 cans of the still lukewarm Rolling Rock and dropping them back in the flimsy green cardboard case I'd saved. I tuck it under my arm and head down the hill.

***

"Dude, can you see if they have a brush, or a comb, at the desk," Matt mutters, trying to pull his fingers through his hair. He swings his legs over the side of the bed. His face tightens for a moment.

"There's a gift shop in the lobby," Liam replies, stepping closer. He leans over, cups Matt's face in his hands and bends his face to his lover. "Dude, you had me shitting bricks yesterday. Don't fucking do it again, asshole."

"I'd listen to him if were you," Kent says as he walks into the room carrying a small paper cup. "Dr. Price was just filling me in on some prime ER gossip about your friend here," he says, nodding at Liam.

Matt looks at Liam's rapidly reddening face and raises one eyebrow. Liam just blushes a deeper red. "Give it up, brah," Liam tells him.

Before he can speak Kent pipes up. "He laid out one of the local yokel EMTs that brought you in, that's what."

"You what?" Matt asks, looking as surprised as if Kent had just told him he was pregnant with twins. "You did what?"

"He was being a total dick," Liam says, shrugging his shoulders and looking defensive. "I'm not sorry. I'm sick of fucking assholes."

"Amen, brother," Kent chuckles. He hands Matt the small paper cup and reaches for the water pitcher. "Here, ibuprofen, a nice hefty dose, a PPI so that nice hefty dose doesn't give you an ulcer and, best of all, a muscle relaxant. Bottoms up, Matt."

"What's a PPI?" Liam asks.

"Sorry, a Proton Pump Inhibitor, shuts off the acid in your stomach."

"Do I need all of this shit?" Matt asks, jiggling the pills around in the cup.

"Yup. The better the pain is controlled the more rehab you can do. 'No pain no gain' is bullshit."

Matt shrugs and tips the pills into his mouth and chases them down with a gulp of water.

"So, what did the EMT do to piss you off?" Kent asks as Matt swallows the pills.

"He was giving me, us," Liam nods toward Matt, "a hard time because I was holding his hand."

"And you decked him for that?"

Liam glares at Kent. "Yeah, I decked him for that. I told you I'm sick of assholes."

"Yeah, me too," Kent agrees. "I get it; I do. And I'm sure being worried about your friend was a big part of it. And I'm not totally opposed to kicking some homophobic asshole's ass on occasion, but pick your battles carefully, Liam. Sorry to say but even if you devote your life to it, you'll never be able to deck every asshole in the state, much less the world, more important, you don't want to devote your life to it. Trust me."

Liam starts to say something. Matt touches his arm.

"Hey, sit down beside me, huh?"

"I'm afraid visitors aren't allow to sit on the bed."

The tension in Liam's face, which had been easing, sprang back to life.

Kent started laughing. "And everyone here follows the rules. Relax. I'll close the door." He looks at Matt. "Should I put the 'don't enter before checking with the nurse' sign on the door?"

Matt grins. Liam blushes. Kent nods.

***

By the time supper is finished we have finished off half the beer I'd brought down from the cabin. I offer to go back for the rest. I'm not sure four beers a piece will provide adequate lubrication for the discussion that has bubbled below our supper conservation. I feel as if I've been watching a mental tennis match, my head turning first to Glenna, then to Leon, trying to read their expressions, the way they hold their forks, how vigorously they sawed at the pork chop on their plates. I bounce from an almost giddy joy at seeing two people from my past to near terror. It's easier with Glenna.

Memories of Glenna aren't contaminated by memories of Mary Beth. I had been a kid when I knew Glenna. In those days, I had the vague idea that I was destined to be 'somebody'. That notion had still been intact when the skinny girl who would grow into Glenna seemed to be constantly under foot.

Leon is a different matter. He's hopelessly trapped in the saga of my early years with Mary Beth. To say nothing of my early experience with men. I can't look at Leon and see only warm sun, laughing friends, and splashing water. When I look at Leon, I see the hurt in his eyes at Mary Beth's words. The hilarious bit, and by hilarious, I mean the exact opposite of funny, is I had never let myself see that hurt at the time it was happening. It's only now, in memory, that I can see it for what it was. I look at him and remember how nervous he looked, how nervous I felt, how good he looked, how much I had loved what we did to each other. But other memories, parasites, ticks bloated with regret and shame, cling to those memories. Layered over all that, as if that isn't enough, is the strange dreams, I won't let myself think of them as visions, I've been having.

Glenna insists on doing the dishes and on doing them alone.

"Tell me how you two knew each other in college?" Her attention, or at least her gaze, remains on the sudsy water that hides her hands.

"I sucked his dick in the bathroom," Leon offers, turning the green beer can around and around in his fingers.

"You don't say," Glenna offers, dipping a plate in the rinse water and setting it in the drainer.

"It wasn't like that," I hear myself object. "Or only at the beginning," I continue. "It might have been different if I'd meet Leon first." I realize the truth of what I'm saying as I say it. The implications take my breath away.

"You were involved with someone else?"

"Sort of. Yes. Not really. I was seeing a girl. We were having sex but I don't know if we considered ourselves a 'couple' yet." I stop and shake my head. I look at Glenna's back. I'd prefer to look at her face but this is the best I can do. "That's bullshit. We may not have said the words but neither of us would have been okay if we knew the other was seeing someone else on the side."

"No, that's bullshit," Leon interjects in that maddening mild tone of his. "Mary Beth loved the fact you were seeing me. Or she loved the power that gave her over you. Mary Beth was a borderline psychopath and you know it. For all you know she was fucking the football team behind your back."

"No," I instinctively leap to my ex-wife's defense. "She was a lot of things, including a borderline personality but she didn't cheat on me."

"You sure? Did you know she came on to me? Behind your back?"

I shake my head.

"Your shaking your head. Does that mean, 'no, I didn't know' or 'no, I don't believe you'?"

"Stop it, Leon." Glenna's voice is sharp. "For one thing, Randy isn't on a witness stand, so knock of the interrogation. And for another, he's a friend. And if that isn't enough he's a guest."

"It's okay, Glenna. He's right." I look at my old, what? Friend? Lover? Both, I suppose. "No, I didn't know she hit on you behind my back. Why would she? We both thought you were gay, no bi."

"To hurt you, to have something to hold over me, as a challenge, to see if I'd take the bait and she could laugh and walk away, because she was bored. I don't know." Leon pauses. "And I am gay, not bi."