by Xavier Mayne
“I’ve been with some guys. Not one of them meant anything like what you did to me. It took a few years before I could even think about being with anyone else, because I kept hoping I’d be able to get to you. I finally….” He fell silent.
“Finally what?” Trevor asked.
“I finally had to convince myself you were dead so that I could go on living. It just about destroyed me to know that I was driving that night, that I was the one who—”
“Shhh,” Trevor interrupted. “It wasn’t your fault. I never blamed you.”
“I blamed myself. Every single day. I tried to forget that night and to find someone else who might take your place in my heart. But there was no one who could do that, ever. So I was alone, a lot.”
“Yeah, me too,” Trevor said with a grim laugh. “Well, fuck all that. Let’s pick up where we left off, back when we were horny high schoolers.”
“I’m going to show you some new tricks, mister,” Sandler said, standing and tugging at Trevor’s sweats, sliding them down his slender legs. He repeated the motion with Trevor’s underwear. “There he is,” he cried, elated to see that lovely penis—the first one he’d ever touched besides his own—spring into view. “Make yourself comfortable, sir, and I will treat you to the blow job of your dreams.” He fluffed a few pillows into place and helped Trevor scoot back onto them until he was in recline, naked from the waist down.
“That’s a pretty tall order, given how much I’ve dreamed of getting a blow job from you.”
“I’m willing to work as long and as hard as it takes to get it right,” Sandler said, saluting smartly before leaning down and taking Trevor into his mouth.
It was just like old times.
Chapter Eighteen
Friday
Geneva
THE GROUP gathered for breakfast, as they had the morning before, and spoke in hushed tones about the upcoming hearing. The debut of Trevor in his new suit was the highlight of the morning, and it was with a spirit of great expectations that they left the suite for the hearing. Sandler tried to stay calm as he pushed Trevor’s wheelchair into the courtroom and sat next to him, holding his hand tightly, bracing for the moment when the Hendrickses would enter. He knew Trevor and his team had done everything they could to prepare for this moment, but the stakes were so high. It was all he could do to keep his smile pasted in place and try not to let Trevor see how nervous he was. Trevor, for his part, seemed to Sandler to be almost preternaturally calm, as if the outcome were in no way doubtful to him. He tried to breathe in some of Trevor’s confidence.
When the Hendrickses arrived, with two attorneys and Dr. Rauthmann, Trevor did exactly what he had said he would do: he looked straight ahead and ignored them completely. For their part, his parents shot dagger-filled glances at each and every person in Trevor’s entourage, reserving particularly venomous squinting for that turncoat Randy Filkins.
The tone of the hearing itself, as Imre had predicted, was set by the procession of the attorneys he’d hired. There were five of them, and the arrival of each one elicited the same expression of bleak recognition among the Hendrickses’ attorneys. Sandler could see them exchanging funereal glances and shaking their heads hopelessly. The attorneys were followed by the trio of physicians who had examined Trevor, at the sight of whom Rauthmann’s eyebrows jumped skyward. He clearly recognized what he too was up against.
The judge, having read the briefs filed by the attorneys for both sides, asked for a private audience with Trevor before formally opening the hearing.
“I want Sandler to come with me,” Trevor said in a clear, steady voice.
The Hendrickses’ attorneys made instant and strenuous objections that his parents should be, as his guardians, the ones to accompany him into chambers, but they were put down quickly when Trevor’s attorneys reminded the judge that Trevor had the right to choose his advocate.
Sandler escorted him to the judge’s chambers, and stayed with him while he was questioned gently for less than a quarter hour. The conversation, however, contained none of the drama Sandler had feared; it was, in fact, rather anticlimactic, especially after the flurry of preparation they’d all gone through the day before. The judge seemed most interested in Trevor’s ability to make decisions consistent with his own welfare. He was quickly satisfied by Trevor’s answers, and in the end seemed somewhat bemused that his courtroom had become the site of senseless domestic drama.
Back in the courtroom, the judge had only one question for the doctors who had examined Trevor. They all answered in the affirmative when asked if they believed him to be of sound mind and capable of directing his own affairs. Each took pains to point out that Trevor’s ability to care for himself was well established by his surreptitiously weaning himself off the psychotropic drugs and fighting to maintain his own health. The judge seemed more than satisfied, and without having asked the many attorneys present a single question, he declared that the Swiss constitution left no doubt that Trevor Hendricks should be freed from any limitation on his self-determination.
Mr. and Mrs. Hendricks sat for a long moment, Mr. Hendricks looking hatefully upon the attorneys who had raised only a single objection during the brief hearing while Mrs. Hendricks glared ferociously at her son and the man whose arms were wrapped around him. They rose slowly, and walked out of the courtroom without a word.
Dr. Rauthmann gathered his papers and followed the Hendrickses up the aisle. Sandler glanced up and noted, with no small measure of satisfaction, that Dr. Schwegler had appeared at the back of the room. The expression on his face as Rauthmann approached was… severe.
Trevor could hardly stop grinning, laughing, and repeating “Oh my God, it’s finally over” all the way back to the hotel. Once there, everyone gathered up their belongings and headed for the train station.
When Brandt got to the ticket counter, the agent asked to inspect everyone’s passport. Brandt made the rounds collecting them, but then he got to Trevor.
“It’s not in here,” he said, frantically pawing through the duffel bag that represented all his worldly possessions. “Oh fuck.”
“What is it?” Sandler asked.
“My parents still have it. They kept them in the safe in the hotel room.”
“Do you think we have time to go get it before the train leaves?” Sandler asked Brandt.
“The last train leaves in a half hour,” Brandt answered.
“You guys go on ahead,” Trevor said. “We’ll get the passport and follow you tomorrow.”
“No,” Donnelly said flatly. “We’re not leaving anyone behind.”
“But it’s your wedding,” Sandler cried.
“Yes, but we don’t know if you’ll be able to convince your parents to give up Trevor’s passport,” Brandt replied.
“And if they don’t, it would be Monday before you could get the court to force them to release it to you,” Imre warned.
“I don’t think your victory at the hearing today changed their minds one bit,” Donnelly added. “I saw the way they looked at you—at all of us. You may have won, but if they get the chance to cause you trouble I think they will. I’m going to hail a couple of taxis to take us to their hotel.” He headed out to the curb.
Trevor was distraught. “You guys have done so much already—I can’t make you miss your wedding.”
“It’s not until tomorrow afternoon,” Brandt said. “We’ll get there.”
“ARE YOU sure you want to go up alone?” Sandler asked as Trevor rolled toward the elevators.
“For the thousandth time, yes. I need to do this myself, or they will never believe it’s what I want. If you go with me, they’ll think that I’m under your control, just like I was under theirs. I need to do this myself.”
Sandler nodded reluctantly.
“But if I’m not back in an hour, I want you to break down the door and rescue me, okay?”
“It’s a deal.” Sandler smiled widely, then grew serious again. “You’re the bravest person I kno
w.”
“I think you’re the brave one, taking on someone with a family like mine.”
“I don’t have a choice. The heart wants what it wants.” He shrugged helplessly.
“Such a man, always thinking with his… heart.”
The elevator doors slid open.
“One hour. Then I’m coming in, and I’m bringing Gabriel and Ethan with me. Muscles will be flexed.” Sandler kept his tone light, but he was dead serious.
“I may stall a bit just to see that,” said Trevor slyly as he rolled into the elevator. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Sandler replied as the doors slid closed.
TREVOR KNOCKED at the door of his parents’ hotel room. He listened to his heart pounding, trying to slow its panicked rhythm while he waited for them to answer. It seemed an eternity to him.
Finally he heard shuffling, and then the light coming through the peephole flickered as someone looked through. As quickly as the shadow had come, it disappeared, and he imagined his father telling his mother that their wayward son had rolled unexpectedly back into their lives to gloat over his victory. He was sure they would simply decide not to open the door.
The door bolt slid back, starting his heart pounding even more frenetically than before. Then his father stepped through the small opening he had created by opening it only slightly, and the two Hendricks men were alone in the hallway.
“Dad.” Trevor tried to keep his voice even and calm.
His father simply stared imperiously down. Trevor saw only hate in his eyes.
“I came to get my pass—”
“You came to make sure you’ve destroyed her. It’s not enough that she’s given her entire life to you—you want to see the wreckage your perversion has wrought.” Mr. Hendricks looked ready to spit at his son. “I won’t let you do that. It’s over my dead body that you’ll ever see her again.”
Though Trevor had expected this reaction, he was still shocked by it. He swallowed hard. “That’s not why I came.”
His father leaned down until his enraged face was nearly touching Trevor’s. “I don’t care why you came. Leave. Now.”
“Not without my passport.” Trevor surprised himself with the force of his own voice. Having Sandler back in his life had shown him strength he didn’t know he possessed. “Just give it to me and I’ll leave.”
Mr. Hendricks looked him straight in the eye, not even blinking. “Now you listen to me, you ungrateful punk,” he snarled. “You made your choice. You decided that perversion and fleshly indulgence was more important to you than the life your mother and I have given our entire lives to provide for you. You are on your own, and that’s a choice you made. You don’t get to come crying to me when it turns out life isn’t as easy as you thought it was.”
Trevor looked at the man who had picked him up when he fell off his bike, who had helped him with his algebra homework even when he was tired from a long day at work. The man who always smiled upon his only son. What he saw now was a mask of bitter hate, of betrayal, of empty loathing. It was like watching his father die in front of him.
“Dad—”
“Don’t call me that. I am not your father. Not anymore.” He stood upright. “That’s a choice you made. Live with it.” He turned and opened the hotel room door.
A wave of frigid nausea blasted into Trevor’s chest as the door slammed shut. He had expected anger, even fury. He hadn’t expected to be disowned. He hadn’t expected to be orphaned. What had he done to deserve this?
He heard the answer in Sandler’s voice. Nothing.
He didn’t deserve this. His sexuality, his identity—everything essential about him—was far more a part of him than who his parents were. He loved them still, but he was not going to accept their version of him. He didn’t need a court order to prove his own humanity.
He knocked, hard. “Open this door.” His voice was loud—not yet a shout, but on its way. “I will come back with the police if I have to.”
No answer.
Trevor rolled closer to the door, and pounded on it. “You have no right to do this,” he shouted.
The door swung open without warning. “Stop that,” his father hissed angrily, looking up and down the corridor. “You will not cause a scene!”
“I will do whatever it takes to get what’s mine,” Trevor replied, his voice deadly. He looked past his father. “Mom? Mom, are you there?”
The slap came before he even registered his father’s hand coming toward him. It nearly sent him sprawling out of his chair. From within the hotel room he heard a gasp.
Mr. Hendricks’s lip curled in disgust. “You stay away from us, you degenerate.”
“Let him in,” his mother’s voice said quietly.
“No,” his father replied without taking his eyes off Trevor’s throbbing cheek.
“Mom, I just want my passport. That’s all.” He struggled his way back into his chair, ashamed as he did so to feel a pang that his father, who should be proud of him for being able to do so, would only see it as further proof of his disobedience.
“Leave. Now,” his father growled. He pushed the hotel door, and it would have slammed shut had it not been for Trevor’s foot being in the way.
Without thinking about it, Trevor kicked out his right foot—the one that he hadn’t even been able to move reliably since stopping physical therapy. His father looked down at it in surprise, as did Trevor. Their eyes met, just for an instant, and Trevor saw a flash of his father in the face of the bitter man who stood before him. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared, but it gave Trevor the confidence he needed. He pushed as hard as he could against the door, rolling his chair with every ounce of strength in his arms. It jolted back, striking Mr. Hendricks in the forehead and causing him to stagger back into the room. Trevor rolled in, and the door swung softly to a close behind him.
“Did you see that?” his father demanded. “He hit me with the door!” He raised his hand up to his forehead to feel the red welt that was already forming.
“After you slapped him,” Mrs. Hendricks replied quietly.
Trevor turned toward the sound. His mother stood near the window, tissues in both hands, shaking her head slowly at the scene playing out between father and son.
“Let’s not compound tragedy with melodrama,” she continued.
Hope sprang into Trevor’s chest at hearing his mother’s calm voice. He rolled toward her.
“Stay away from me, you ungrateful obscenity.”
Trevor’s arms fell limply to his side as his mouth dropped open in shock. He shook his head, unable to form words.
“Mom, why…?”
Mrs. Hendricks looked at him for a long moment, dabbing at her eyes every few seconds. “My conduct is not under question here, Trevor.” She daubed and continued. “I devoted every hour of every day to bringing you back to life. Even when everyone else had given up on you ever having a normal life, I stayed by your side. And this is how you repay me.”
“This isn’t about you, Mom. This is about me.”
“It’s always been about you,” she replied. “Everything I’ve done has been for you.”
“You tried to make me what you thought I should be.”
“I tried to restore you. I built you back up from nothing. I gave birth to you twice—once when you came into this world, and once when that horrid Birkin boy tried to take you out of it.”
“The accident was not his fault.”
“There are no accidents,” she replied, turning to look out the window. “When you took up with him, you left the right path. You lied to me and your father for that entire year, sneaking around, rolling in filth with that boy. That wasn’t an accident. It was God setting you back on the right path.”
Trevor’s mouth dropped open. “Are you actually telling me you think the accident was a good thing? That being in a coma for a year and stuck in a wheelchair ever since was a gift from God?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. God brought y
ou back to us. And once we had you back, we restored you to health, body and spirit.” She took a moment to daub at her eyes again. “But the demon that has you is stronger than I am.”
“You drugged me into thinking I was sick. How was that supposed to help me?”
A steely glint sparked back into her eye. “You are sick. You have made that abundantly clear. Look what you did the first chance you got to slip away from us. You went right back into that perversion.”
“I am not sick, and I am not perverted. I was born this way.”
“Don’t you dare come in here and parrot that crap to me. We are all born imperfect, but you are sick, and all you’ve accomplished this week is to refuse treatment for your illness. The judge says that’s your choice to make. I won’t be a part of it.”
“I’m not asking you to be a part of it. All I want is for you to accept me for who I am.”
“Accept what? You don’t even know who you are. You’ve somehow convinced yourself that your happiness depends on sodomy. You’re like a dog that keeps running into traffic, no matter how much its master tries to keep it safe. Eventually it’s going to get hit by a car.”
Trevor sat, stunned. “Did you just blame me for the car accident?”
“If you hadn’t been with him, you wouldn’t have been in danger.”
“I was with him because I love him. That’s why I’m with him now. If you can’t understand that, I don’t think there’s anything I can say that will help. Just give me my passport and I’ll get out of here.”
His mother sighed deeply. “You are choosing death. I gave you life—twice—but I can’t do any more. I fought so hard to make you better, and you are throwing all that away.”
“What I’m throwing away is a suitcase full of drugs that you used to keep me under your control for years. I had three doctors look at what you were giving me, and they were honestly surprised I’d even survived. Don’t talk to me about choosing death. You did that for me for years.”