Elpida

by C. Kennedy

  Michael’s brows shot up. “That’s not like him.”

  “No, but it’ll take care of anything those guys have planned.”

  “Let’s head to the locker room,” Coach O’Malley suggested.

  They packed their gear and headed off the field.

  As promised, by the time they’d showered and changed, the press was in the parking lot and the bikers had disappeared.

  “I’m sorry to hear matters concerning Jason aren’t resolved,” Coach O’Malley said as they left the locker room.

  Jake only nodded.

  “Have you seen Tony or Rich?” Michael asked.

  Coach O’Malley shook his head. “Not since the day Rich confronted you on the field.”

  “Weird,” Jake said.

  “See you tomorrow at eight,” Coach O’Malley said with a wave as he headed off toward his car.

  “Laters, Coach!”

  “Thanks again, Coach!” Jake said as they headed in the opposite direction.

  The reporters immediately began shouting questions. “Michael! Jacob! Is it true—?”

  “No comment!” Jake shouted.

  Security shielded them from the reporters as they got into the car.

  “I want to head over to Christy’s.” Michael dialed Christy, but the call went to voice mail. “Hey, babe, it’s me. I’m done with practice and heading over to your place. Call me.” He terminated the call. “Guess I won’t. Call your dad and ask if it’s okay if we go get my car.”

  Jake started the car, waited for his phone to connect to the guidance system, and hit the speed dial for his dad’s office. “Myra, sorry to bother you again. Ask Dad if it’s okay to go get Michael’s car.”

  Myra returned to the line a moment later. “He says to tell you the Sattlers went home today.”

  “Thanks, Myra.” Jake disconnected the call. “Well, bro, it’s been real.”

  “Very. What are you going to do?”

  Jake dialed Sophia, and her voice filled the car’s sound system. “Ciao, bello.”

  “Ciao, cuore mio. What are you up to?”

  “I am reading by your pool. I must return to the city tomorrow, but I’ll be back this weekend.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. I must speak with my agent about contracts, consider the wardrobes, and speak with Ariel.”

  Jake exchanged a worried glance with Michael. “Are you going to try to talk to her about the sister-brother thing again?”

  “Yes. There is no reason she cannot discuss this with us.”

  “I agree. Okay, do you want some company?”

  “Absolutely.”

  AT SIX o’clock, Michael still hadn’t heard from Christy. He called again, and it went straight to voice mail. He went to dial Rob, but before his finger hit the button, his mom called.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, honey. Will you take the meatloaf out of the refrigerator and put it in the oven on 350 degrees?”

  “I’m still at Jake’s, but yeah, I’ll head home.”

  “Thank you. We’ll see you between seven and seven thirty.”

  “Bye, Mom.”

  He dialed Wellington Ranch.

  “Hi, Michael.”

  “Hey, Rob. I haven’t been able to reach Christy all day. Is everything okay?”

  “He was up all night with Thimi and slept all day. I’ll ask him to call you when he wakes.”

  “Thanks, Rob.” Michael terminated the call.

  “Not good?” Jake asked.

  Michael stood and pulled his shirt on. “He was up all night with Thimi and he’s still asleep. Drive me home?”

  “Sure.”

  “See you on Saturday, Sophia.”

  “See you then, Michael.”

  Michael didn’t miss the concern in her voice as she offered a brief wave.

  CHRISTY SMILED when he woke to find Thimi peering at him from beneath the duvet. “Good morning, Thimi.”

  “It is night,” he whispered.

  Christy’s eyes went wide, and he looked around the cabin to find their only illumination from a small kitchen light. He reached for his phone and looked at it. It was after 8:00 p.m. He sighed and set the phone back on the bedside table. “Did you sleep?”

  Thimi nodded. “The dreams do not come if I wait until I can no longer stay awake.”

  Christy recalled well how often he’d avoided nightmares by refusing to sleep until exhaustion overcame him, and his heart went out to Thimi. He pushed the duvet back and petted Thimi’s hair. “You do not have to do this now. Ask for more medicine.”

  “You do not have the dreams now?”

  Christy fought the urge to say no as he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I did not until Yosef came for me. Now I have them again.”

  “Do you have medicine?”

  Christy turned to him and smiled, surprised that it didn’t bother him to nod. “It helps.”

  They lay there in companionable silence for an indeterminate time before Thimi sat up and reached for the bottle of water. He missed, knocked it off the nightstand, and panic filled his eyes. He began to scramble off the bed, and Christy sat up quickly and stopped him by reaching for his hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “It is okay.”

  Tears filled Thimi’s eyes. “I will be punished!”

  “No! No punishments! It is okay!” Christy climbed off the bed and picked the bottle up. Looking into Thimi’s golden eyes, he said very succinctly, “There are no more punishments, Thimi. Ever.”

  Christy watched as relief flooded Thimi’s face and he burst into tears.

  “It is safe here.” He petted his hair again. “I will get you another.”

  He plodded to the kitchen and returned a moment later, laid a dishtowel over the puddle of water, and held a cold bottle out to Thimi. Thimi wouldn’t take it from him. Christy sat on the edge of the bed, reached for Thimi’s hand, and set the cold bottle in it. “It is okay to make mistakes. It is what normal people do. I did not know this until I came here.”

  Thimi still hadn’t taken a drink, and Christy encouraged him. “Drink.”

  Thimi struggled with the bottle cap, and Christy twisted it open for him. “Do not use the bad wrist. I will help you.”

  A knock sounded at the cabin door, and Christy went to it. Standing on tiptoe to check the peephole, he saw Rob, Gwen, and Darien. When he opened the door, Darien launched at him and hugged him tightly around the waist. “Christy!”

  “Darien, no!” Gwen shot forward in an effort to stop him and missed.

  Christy stumbled backward, barely able to stay on his feet. “Hello, Darien.”

  “Darien, you can’t do that. You’ll knock Christy over,” Rob said sternly.

  “Christy’s okay! Hi, Christy! Where’s Thimi?”

  “Use your inside voice,” Gwen reminded him.

  Christy couldn’t help but smile at Darien’s enthusiasm. “He is there in the bed. You must lower your voice, or you will scare him.”

  Darien made a beeline for the bed and began to climb onto it.

  Thimi shrank back in fright, and Christy couldn’t prevent the sharp “No!” that escaped him as he half hobbled and half ran to Thimi.

  Thimi scrambled backward and fell off the far side of the bed, a dull thud sounding as he hit the floor.

  “Thimi!” Christy’s foot gave way before he reached the bed, and he fell in the living area.

  “Darien!” Gwen reached the bed and scooped Darien into her arms, and he began to cry.

  Rob helped Christy to his feet, and Christy hobbled as fast as he could to the far side of the bed. “Thimi, are you okay?”

  Thimi sat on the floor in tears, cradling his wrist in his lap and trying to hide his wet pants. “Are you hurt? Are you hurt?”

  Thimi shook his head, overt fear on his face.

  Christy slowly pressed himself between the bed and the wall, carefully sat next to Thimi, and put an arm around him. “Let me see the wrist.” Thimi turned his face
against Christy’s chest.

  “I’ll get Dr. Jordanou,” Rob said quickly. “Gwen, take Darien back to the main house.”

  “No,” Christy said. “It is only the mistake.”

  Rob relented. “Darien, you need to apologize to Christy and Thimi. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  Darien only cried harder, and Christy motioned for Gwen to set him on his feet. She did so grudgingly but didn’t release his hand.

  “It is okay. Come, Darien. Come slow and quiet. Do not scare Thimi.” Darien sniveled, and Christy patted the floor in front of them. “Sit. Do not cry.”

  Darien cried as he dropped to his knees, squeezed into the already cramped space, and buried his face against Christy’s shoulder.

  Thimi quickly leaned away, and Christy brought him back, his arm tightly around Thimi.

  Gwen reached for Darien. “Don’t—”

  “It is okay,” Christy interrupted. He switched to speaking in Greek. “Darien is like us. He is harmless. He has a lot of energy and forgets his manners. I’m sorry he scared you.”

  Thimi stared at Darien, who only continued to cry against Christy’s shoulder, and Christy patted Darien’s back before speaking in English again. “Darien? Sit and say hi to Thimi. Come. Say hi.”

  “Hi,” Darien said into Christy’s shoulder.

  “Come. Sit.” Christy tried to move Darien away, but Darien wouldn’t have it. “Darien, you must sit here for me.”

  Gwen sat on the floor at the end of the bed, reached into the cramped space, and gently pulled Darien into her lap. Simultaneously, Darien refused to release his hold on Christy, and Thimi vomited down the front of Christy’s shirt. Frustrated, Christy closed his eyes for a moment, unsure what to deal with first. “Adelfáki, I’m sorry.”

  Gwen set Darien on the floor next to her. “Can you sit here for a minute? I need to get a towel for Thimi.”

  “I will get it,” Darien said as he wiped his nose on his arm.

  Gwen got to her feet and held a hand out to him. “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry, Christophoros,” Thimi said softly.

  Christy held him close but away from the mess on his shirt. “It is me who is sorry. I should have warned you before I opened the door. He is like this with me. Rob is trying to teach him not to do this.”

  Gwen returned, guiding a now-calm Darien, who walked very slowly to them and held a washcloth out to Thimi. “I didn’t mean to.”

  Christy smiled, accepted the washcloth, and handed it to Thimi.

  Thimi wiped his face and did his best to clean the front of Christy’s shirt but only succeeded in making a bigger mess.

  “Leave it. We will wash it.”

  Thimi looked up at Christy, uncertainty large in his eyes.

  “It is okay, adelfáki mou.” Christy turned to Darien. “What are the rules for my cabin?”

  “No running and use the inside voice.”

  “Next time you will remember?”

  Darien sniffed and nodded.

  “Do you remember when you first came here? You were very afraid?”

  Darien nodded again.

  “This is like Thimi is now. He is very afraid.”

  Darien held a hand out to Thimi. “I’m sorry.”

  Thimi glanced at Christy.

  “It is okay to touch him.”

  Thimi tentatively held a hand out, and Darien set his small hand in Thimi’s palm. Thimi gave it a quick squeeze before withdrawing his hand.

  Darien sniffed again. “He can use my new pj’s.”

  Christy smiled. “Thank you for the generous offer. It is not necessary. We have pajama for Thimi.”

  Rob returned with Dr. Jordanou. “How are we doing?”

  “It is good now. I remind Darien of the rule for my cabin, Darien meets Thimi, and Darien offers his new pajama for Thimi.”

  Rob shook his head as he chuckled. “That’s very nice of you, Darien. Go on back to the house now. Dr. Jordanou needs to look at Thimi’s wrist.”

  Darien’s face clouded over. “I’m sorry.”

  Christy reached and squeezed Darien’s hand. “It is okay. Next time you will remember. Paint another picture for me?”

  “Okay.”

  Gwen picked Darien up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Bye, Christy!”

  Gwen put a finger to her lips. “Quietly.”

  “Bye, Christy!” Darien repeated in a fierce whisper.

  Christy waved. “Bye, Darien.”

  “Can you stand?” Dr. Jordanou asked as he held a hand out to Thimi.

  Christy took the washcloth from him. “Yes?”

  Fear filled Thimi’s eyes again, but he reached for Dr. Jordanou’s hand, got to his feet unsteadily, and Dr. Jordanou helped him onto the bed.

  Pressed between the bed and the wall, and with his foot and ribs now in pain, Christy struggled to stand and failed.

  “Christy?” Rob asked.

  “I need the help. The foot is the problem.”

  Rob frowned. “How bad is it?”

  “It is not good.”

  “Can we remove your shirt before we attempt to get you to your feet?”

  Christy withdrew his arms from the shirt and Rob pulled it over his head, careful to keep the soiled part away from his face. He set it aside. “How do you want to do this?” Christy held a hand out to Rob, and Rob grasped it. “Ready?”

  Christy nodded, and Rob attempted to pull him to his feet. Simultaneous pain seared Christy’s side and foot. He blanched and cried out.

  Rob released him gently back to the floor. “Ribs too?”

  Christy held his side, breathed rapidly through the pain, and nodded.

  Gwen had returned and now made a suggestion. “I’m going to put the duvet on the floor. Sit on it, and we’ll pull you out from behind the bed, okay?”

  Christy held his side tightly as he worked his way onto the duvet, and Gwen and Rob gripped it. “Here we go. Slow, now.”

  Once they had Christy out from behind the bed, Dr. Jordanou squatted next to him. “Can you lie back for me?”

  Christy began to lie back, his ribs hurt more, and he quickly reached for Dr. Jordanou’s hand. “I cannot.”

  Dr. Jordanou gripped his hand and supported his back as he righted himself.

  “I believe the warm bath will help.”

  “Take a look at his foot,” Rob said.

  Christy extended his leg, and saw that his foot was more purple and raspberry-colored than ever.

  “I thought you were supposed to keep that wrapped,” Rob said, discouraged.

  “Not when I sleep.”

  Rob sighed and rubbed his forehead. “You need to have your ribs and foot X-rayed.”

  “I will have the bath. If it is not better tomorrow, I will have the picture.”

  Rob pursed his lips and shook his head. “They should be X-rayed now, Christy.”

  “Do not make the argument. I wish to have the hot bath and sleep before the decision for the picture,” Christy insisted.

  MICHAEL’S PHONE buzzed with a text message in the middle of the night. He rolled over and reached for the phone. In his half-sleep state he read Moro mou, the night is very bad for Thimi. I will call tomorrow.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  AS PROMISED, Coach O’Malley worked with Michael and Jake on sprints, and their times were great. They made plans for Michael to run hurdles and for Jake to run distance the following day and finished practice to identical text messages from Lisa asking them to meet her at Smitty’s.

  “Think Smitty found out what Tony was doing down in the city?” Jake asked as they walked to their cars.

  “That would be my guess. I’ll follow you.”

  Michael called Christy as he left the parking lot and was pleasantly surprised when Christy answered the phone. “Hey, babe!”

  “Kaliméra, filos.”

  Christy sounded the flattest Michael had ever heard him. “Are you all right?”

  Pregnant pause.

&
nbsp; “I am tired. Thimi cannot go one hour in sleep without the nightmare.”

  “Why doesn’t the doc knock him out?”

  “They try the new medication so they do not have to do this.”

  Frustration pricked Michael’s spine. “Babe, you sound exhausted. You need sleep. Talk to the doc about this.”

  “I believe I will do this.”

  Michael looked at the time. It was a little after noon. “Take a nap, and I’ll come see you around three o’clock. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Christy’s okay sounded small and frail, and Michael worried for him. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I am okay. I will see you around three.”

  Michael glanced at the guidance system to see if the call had dropped, but Christy had hung up. He couldn’t prevent the worry that filled him. Christy didn’t only sound physically exhausted, he sounded emotionally drained.

  He pulled into Whitey’s after Jake, careful to ease his way around the many motorcycles parked at the front of the place. Jake found two spaces in the far corner of the lot, and they parked their cars.

  “I can’t believe this place is packed in the middle of the day,” Jake said as they headed to the front door.

  “I get the impression it’s packed 24-7,” Michael said as they crossed the lot.

  “You sure we can go in there? We’re not twenty-one.”

  “We’re going to the back office,” Michael said as he swung the heavy wooden door open, and they entered the dimly lit bar.

  The patrons in the bar quieted as all eyes turned to them in the smoky haze. Some of the bar patrons rose from their seats in challenge, and Smitty stepped through the kitchen door. All it took was a look from him and everyone sat down. He held the swinging door open in a silent command to follow him into the back.

  Michael and Jake entered Smitty’s office, and Lisa greeted them with a cuff to Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, Mike, Jake.”

  “Hey, Lisa,” Michael and Jake said in tandem.

  The first time Michael had been in Smitty’s office, he’d been bleary-eyed from his injuries after the kidnapping and looking for Christy. Now, as he took stock of the wall above Smitty’s desk covered in television and computer screens, he felt as if he’d entered CENTCOM, the headquarters of the US Department of Defense. Squawks and bleeps filled the room, and one speaker spewed information from a police scanner. Each screen above the desk showed footage of a motorcycle from various angles as it traveled at high speed down the highway into New York City.