We just stood there for a few minutes, looking at each other without saying anything, the storm raging around us. For some reason, I was reminded of what Cher had said to me about my not really seeing someone when I looked at them. So I tried. I looked into Pat’s eyes and I really tried to see him.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I asked him.
He looked confused, like this was the strangest question in the world. “Because you’re a fucking faggot!” he laughed nervously. “Why do you have to be such a faggot and flash your shit around in front of everyone?”
“You don’t even know why you hate me, do you?”
He looked even more confused. And then I saw it. Fear. Cher had been right all along. Pat was no different than anyone else in that cafeteria. He was afraid of himself. He was afraid of whatever it was he saw in me that mirrored him.
“Oh my God, you’re afraid of me?” I almost laughed.
Pat shook his head, and stood up straight. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not afraid of you. I’ll beat the shit out of you!” He reached for me, but I stepped back carefully, feeling the diving board against the back of my legs.
“Maybe you’re afraid you see something about yourself in me?”
“I’m not a fucking faggot,” he spat.
“I didn’t say you were.” I slowly reached down to grab the keys. “But whatever it is you hate about me, scares the shit out of you because you see it in yourself.” I reached for the keys, watching Pat process what I had just said. He looked scared, like I just tapped into something he wasn’t willing to recognize. I curled my fingers around the keys and stood up, just as the look on his face changed from fear to absolute anger. “Maybe its weakness, or a lack of confidence. Or maybe it’s just plain fear.”
I couldn’t move, so I just stood there as the words I had heard all of my life, ripped from his throat. “You fucking faggot! I’m gonna beat your fucking queer ass! Do you hear me?” He went on and on and on, calling me every name I had ever heard since I was in the first grade. None of them were new, but they didn’t hurt any less. I had given those words so much power over the years and I was tired of giving them power.
“THEN BEAT MY FUCKING QUEER ASS!” I screamed, only inches from his face. “Quit talking about it and do something!” I was so tired of all of the insults and all of the threats. The look on Pat’s face was one of complete surprise. He didn’t know what to say. “That’s what I thought,” I said and turned away, but just as I did, Pat grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back to him., I fell a little bit into his arms and it felt more like he was embracing me. I looked up into his face, unsure whether or not he was going to pick me up or let me fall to the ground.
For a split second, there was something in his eyes I recognized, but then it was gone. Pat pulled me up and pushed me back in the direction of the diving board.
“Fucking faggot.” he whispered under his breath.
I spun around and my legs hit the diving board. I stopped and got my grounding. I wasn’t sure what had just happened. We just stood there and looked at each other. He shook his head in disgust at me, and let me go. I hadn’t even been worth fighting and there was something in the simplicity of that knowledge that hurt so much more than any of the names I had ever been called. I wasn’t even worth it.
And suddenly, like all of the times before, my eyes started to flicker and I started to feel lightheaded. This time, I knew I was going to faint. As my legs began to buckle, I reached out to grab Pat for safety, but he just stepped away, letting me fall into the darkness inside my head.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I woke up in the hospital, with Mom and Dad asleep in chairs at the end of the bed. They were holding hands. Through the window, I could see that it was night outside, but the sky was clear and remnants of the full moon shone onto my bed. I yawned, and immediately felt a weird sensation, like I was going to pass out. My mouth was dry but it tasted like chlorine. I looked at the table to the side of my bed and saw a plastic cup of water with a straw. I reached for the cup, but found it difficult to pick up because of the IV’s hooked into my arm. I strategically maneuvered the cords and slowly picked up the cup, trying to aim the straw at my mouth. When I set the cup back down, I saw the band of Sam’s watch hiding underneath a washcloth on the table. I reached out and grabbed the washcloth only to find Sam’s watch torn apart in pieces. It was completely destroyed.
I could feel my heart begin to race as I thought back on what had happened. How had I ended up in the hospital? Just as I thought this, Dad woke up, stretching his arms over his head. He noticed me sitting up in bed and rushed over to my side. “Hey buddy. How’re you feeling?”
Mom woke up and came over and sat at the end of the bed, her hand on top of my blanketed legs. Her eyes were puffy and I could tell she had been crying. “We were so worried.”
“What happened?” I asked.
Dad smiled, but underneath his smile was fear. “Maybe we should be asking you that question. We’ve only been able to put bits and pieces together so far.”
I tried to think about what had happened, but when I did, my head started to hurt. In fact, it really hurt. I reached up and touched my head and found a massive bandage where my hair should have been. I started to panic and looked at Mom and Dad.
Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. They just had to sew you up buddy.”
I wondered what Pat had done to me that would result in my being in the hospital. “I was driving home from my appointment with Neil,” I said, thinking back to the appointment, but even that was a little fuzzy. “And then I noticed Pat was following me.” I looked at my mom, “I called you but you didn’t answer. Then I called Rusty, but he wouldn’t talk to me.”
Mom and Dad looked at each other as if they were a little confused. “Rusty was the first one to the house,” Mom said. “We just assumed he was the one who…” And then she stopped.
I looked back and forth between Mom and Dad. “What?” I said. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Dad took a deep breath. “None of this is making any sense,” he said, shaking his head. “Rusty said you left him a message saying that Pat was following you. He said you sounded scared. He tried to call you several times, but you never answered so he drove over to your mom’s house.” Dad started to cry and he grabbed my hand. “There was so much blood, Danny. You must have hit the side of the pool when you fainted. You almost drowned.” He took a breath. “Rusty said your watch was hooked to the pool sweep and its’ hose kept pulling you down.” I turned and looked at the tattered watch lying on the table.
Rusty had saved my life.
And just as I thought that, he appeared in the doorway. He was standing there, as real as he had always been.
“Hey,” he said, sheepishly hiding behind the door.
“Hey,” I said. Mom and Dad turned around and told Rusty to come in and sit with us.
“I don’t want to bother you guys,” he said, hanging by the door.
“You aren’t bothering us,” Mom said, putting her arm around his waist as he walked over to the bed. In the light, I could tell he had been crying. “You saved our son’s life. That probably earns you some privileges.” She looked up and smiled at him.
Rusty didn’t say anything, but I knew him well enough by now to know he was uncomfortable. Even though he had rescued me, or whatever had happened, the fact still remained that we had broken up.
I smiled at him and noticed that he wouldn’t stop looking at me. He just kept staring.
“What happened?” I asked.
Rusty shrugged, “I’m not really sure.”
Dad patted Rusty’s back. “We really haven’t had much time to talk much about what happened,” Dad said. “When they brought you in, they were so worried about your head injury that they started working on you right away. If Rusty hadn’t gotten you out of that pool and called 911, who knows what would have happened.”
The room w
ent silent. I looked up at Rusty, but he looked away.
“Rusty, we owe you so much,” Mom said. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost another…” She started crying again.
Rusty turned and started to walk out of the room, but he stopped right before he got to the door.
“I didn’t save his life,” he whispered. He said it so low, that I could hardly hear it, but I was sure I had made out the words correctly.
“What did you say?” Dad said.
And then it was Rusty’s turn to start crying. “I said I didn’t save his life.” He was louder now, almost too loud for a hospital. He turned around and looked at me. Tears flooded his cheeks. “I should have,” he said. “I should have been the one to have saved your life, but I wasn’t. I got your message and drove straight over to your house. I was going to beat Pat Jones’ ass good this time and finish this ridiculous fight once and for all. But when I got there, I heard him screaming and I ran around to the backyard. He was trying to get you out of the pool, but your watch was connected to the pool sweep and he couldn’t get you untangled so he just ripped the watch off.” Rusty stopped and looked right at me, sobbing. “He looked at me. He screamed at me to call 911 but I just stood there. I couldn’t move. I just watched the whole thing happen in front of me. He pulled you out of the pool and set you down on the grass. He told me to give him my phone and I did. He kept yelling at me to help him but I just stood there so he called 911. And then...” Rusty paused and looked away from me.
“What?” I asked.
“He told me to help him do CPR. He was yelling at me, but I couldn’t move. I was so afraid. You were both soaking wet from the pool and the storm and you were turning blue and you looked so cold. The rain was beating on your face and you were turning blue.” He shook his head. “He started breathing into your mouth and pushing on your chest and finally after a few seconds, you spit out water and turned on your side. You were bleeding everywhere and Pat took off his shirt and wrapped it around your head.” He looked away like the memory was too painful. “Then he stood up and told me not to leave you alone. He made me promise that I wouldn’t leave you alone. And then he ran up to your house and drove away.” Rusty was looking out of the window now, and I felt like he was reliving it in his mind. “He just drove away,” he said, looking back at me. “When the police got there, they found me standing over you and just assumed I had done everything. Maybe I was still in shock.” He turned to my parents. “I didn’t mean for you guys to think that I saved his life. I was trying to tell you, but I just couldn’t.”
Mom grabbed his hand. “You stayed with him. That means a lot.”
I shook my head and the pain increased. “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “Why would Pat save my life if he was trying to hurt me?” I remembered him pulling me back by my shirt, twisting me around, falling into his arms, seeing the wary look on his face and then he just let me fall. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“We’re just happy you’re safe,” Dad said. He looked over at Mom. “Maybe we should give these two a few minutes alone.” She nodded and they walked out of the room.
Rusty sat down on the end of the bed. He was still crying.
“Why are you crying?” I asked.
“Because it should have been me,” he said. “You called me and I wasn’t there for you. I almost lost you.”
I laughed. “You had already lost me, or did you forget?”
“I meant for good.”
“Oh,” I said sarcastically. “Does that mean I still have a chance?”
Rusty nodded and bit his lip. “I’d say you still have a very good chance.”
“Does that mean we’re not over?”
“Not yet. Not today,” he paused. “Unless you want us to be over?” he said nervously.
I shook my head. “I never wanted us to be over,” I said. “But why did this change anything. You might still move away.”
“I know,” he said. “But something changed in me watching you out there by the pool. It’s like, I don’t know. I really thought I had lost you. And then when you were OK, I realized I didn’t care if I only got to spend five more days or five more minutes with you, I’d do anything just to have that time.”
“Time,” I said, holding up the broken watch.
“You know what I mean,” Rusty said.
I nodded, “Sometimes, I think I would give anything to just have Sam back for one day, but I know it would be just as hard when he was gone again.” I looked down at Rusty. “But I didn’t die. And I’m not going anywhere. All we have is time.”
And then we laughed. “We’re starting to sound like we’re in some cheesy romance drama.”
“Well, if you hadn’t noticed. I am in the hospital with my head cut open,” I said.
“And your nose is broken and you have two black eyes,” he pointed out. “But that’s not the worst part.”
He grabbed a hand mirror that was hanging on the end of the bed and handed it to me. I looked and found two blazing black eyes, a bandaged nose and a tightly wrapped head looking back at me. It was pretty bad.
“What else?” I asked. Rusty started to pull up part of my bandage and revealed my head, which had been sheered down to at least a half an inch of hair. “Oh, no,” I said, laughing. “Is it all gone?”
Rusty nodded. “Yeah, all that cool hair is gone.” He walked to the chair and picked up his backpack, bringing it to the edge of the bed. “But I have something that might make you deal with it better.” He opened the bag and took out the pirate eye patch and hat and handed them to me.
“Cute. I always wanted to look like a sexy, wounded pirate.”
“You’re my sexy wounded pirate,” he said. “And I have one more thing that might cheer you up.” He reached into the bag and brought out Boo Radley. “I thought you might want to see our son.”
“Our son? Like we’re both his dads, not just me?”
“Yeah, I like the sound of it.”
I held Boo up for him to check out my wounded face and thought about the story Dad had told me about Sam sneaking Griffin into school in his backpack. I smiled, thinking that Sam would have liked Rusty. They were both alike in so many ways.
Rusty sat in the chair next to the bed and put his head on my lap. I ran my fingers through his thick, crazy hair. “I’m gonna miss my hair.”
“Aww, It’ll grow back in no time,” he said.
After about a half an hour, Mom and Dad came back. They were shocked, but not entirely pleased, to find Boo huddled under the sheets, although I noticed a small smirk on Dad’s face. They all insisted on staying, including Rusty, but the nurse told them I needed my rest, so she ushered them out and I was left alone.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My face hurt but there was something appealing about the black eyes and the bandages over my nose. I felt tough and I liked it, knowing I wasn’t really that tough at all. It was all just a costume.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The next day, Cher was the first one to visit. She was wearing a cocktail dress and heels and had on makeup and jewelry. I started laughing as soon as she walked into the room, especially because it was 7:30 on a school day. “Why are you dressed like that?”
She sat down on the end of the bed, with one long stemmed rose in her hand. She spread out the skirt of her dress. “Don’t you think I look pretty, beautiful boy?”
I laughed, “Yeah, you look pretty, but it’s in the morning on a school day.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re so silly,” she said in an affected accent. “I have no intention of going to school today. I have more important issues at hand.” She said all of this extremely loud and aimed in the direction of the door as if she hoped someone in the hall would hear her. She stood up and walked over to the door and closed it behind her, rushing back to the bed, laughing childishly. “Oh my God, I have the greatest plan,” she said. “I’m totally going to walk around like some important bitch and totally score a doctor hu
sband. I know I’m pregnant and everything, but I’m not showing yet so maybe I can still snatch a good one and make him think it’s his.” She laughed to herself and fell onto the bed, staring back at me, the rose at her nose.
“I hate roses.” I laughed.
She sat up. “It’s not for you anyway, you turd! I just want some fantastic doctor to think someone gave it to me and then they’ll get jealous.” She stood up and sat in one of the chairs, her legs wide open, no longer looking like the sophisticated lady. “But really, are you ok? I was so worried about you.”
I nodded my head. “My head still hurts a lot, but I’m going to be OK.”
“Thank God!” She said emphatically. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost my best friend.” She stood up and walked to the edge of the bed. “I gotta go, but I’ll call you later.” She reached down and kissed me, and then she danced out of the room, waving the rose like a fairy wand.
Cher was gone less than a minute, when there was a slight knock on the door. I looked up, and expected to find Rusty or my parents, but instead saw Pat Jones, standing just inside the door. For some reason, he didn’t look so frightening anymore. “Can I come in?” he asked.
I nodded and he walked in. Pat stood over my bed and just looked me up and down, but he didn’t say anything. Finally, he looked me in the eye. “Are you going to be OK?”
“That seems to be the question of the day,” I said. “Yes. I’m going to be OK. They sewed me up and I’ll have a scar on my head, but I’m good.”
Pat nodded, like he was relieved. “Good. I’m glad.” He didn’t move. He just stood there and kept on staring at me.
“Was there a certain reason you came by?” I asked. I knew I should probably thank him for saving my life, but there was still a huge part of me that was angry and maybe even a little bit scared. After all, I was in the hospital because of him.
He looked at the ceiling and then back at me. “I guess I just wanted you to know what happened. And to let you know I’m sorry.”
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