Sander's Courage

by Cade Jay Hathaway

  steep staircases that are found in many Danish homes.

  They carefully moved him to the ground floor and

  rolled the gurney to the front door. There they waited for

  the van to slowly back into an alignment that would afford

  a short, straight movement from the entry to the back of

  the vehicle.

  While they were waiting, Jannik dashed outside to

  the greenhouse and quickly returned with a handful of

  Hyacinth. He asked the attendant if she would place it

  with Torben. She raised the sheet, quickly unsnapped and

  zipped the carrier bag a few centimeters, and laid the

  flowers on Torben's chest. Magda and her children then

  moved onto the cobblestone drive outside the front door to

  stay clear of the workers loading Torben's gurney into the

  ambulance. Soon they were off.

  Watching the van pull away hit Jannik much

  harder than he expected. He kept his eyes focused on the

  small motorcade as it made its way down the drive, turned

  onto the town road, and eventually left his sight. Then he

  faced his mom, hugged her tightly, and cried into her

  bosom like a baby.

  Chapter 34

  knock at Room 222 of the Nyhavn 71 Hotel brought

  me to the door. We had just finished episode three

  A of the Happy Endings Sleepover reenactment, and I

  was grateful that whoever was at the door hadn't come by

  ten minutes earlier. Sander was in the shower, and I was

  looking on my phone for any cool restaurants we might

  want to try tonight.

  "Hi. What's up?" I said to the young bellhop.

  "This came for you. Your phone was off."

  He gave me the note and tipped his little hat, then

  headed down the hall.

  It was a message from the front desk. Mama

  needed me to call her right away. Geeze! Can't a guy suck

  your boy's dick without having you interrupt all the fun? I

  smiled.

  "Hey, Mama, it's Johnnie... Oh... That's too bad... I'll

  ask him what he wants to do... He's in the shower; do you

  want me to have him call you? ... Okay, I'll tell him, bye."

  "Tell me what?" Sander asked, standing buck naked

  in the room and drying off his hair and shoulders. I could

  see his gunshot wound scar was smaller, and the coloring

  of it blended in more with the rest of his skin.

  "Uh, that was Mama. Torben passed away this

  morning, Pokey. I'm sorry."

  Sander sat beside me on the bed, the shock from

  the inevitable day that it would happen setting in. His nose

  flared a little, and his chin quivered. I noticed his eyes

  filling with water.

  "Can I hold you?" I asked him. He nodded, and

  then turned to me and hugged me. His cries were silent

  ones, but I felt his tears against my face. We sat there for

  about an hour while he released four years of pain on my

  shoulder.

  "Why does everything happen like this?" Sander

  sobbed. "I'm so tired of everything! I'm tired of people, and

  their selfish bullshit!"

  "Torben wasn't being selfish, Pokey. He was gonna

  go soon, we knew that." I tried to console him.

  "I'm not talking about him! I mean me! I'm so sick

  of me being the reason shit happens, and I miss Torben,

  Johnnie! I miss him, and that's not fair to you! And why

  should I even miss him, anyway! He was awful to me, and

  I think I'm just a stupid coward!"

  "You're not a coward, damn! Pokey, come on! You?

  A coward? What the fuck!" I exclaimed, totally

  shocked at the whole, stupid thought.

  "Oh yeah?! You want me to remind you? First,

  when Torben got the whole school against me I didn't do

  anything. I was running home! Then, I fix it by throwing a

  belt and a jump rope around my cowardly neck!"

  "Stop!"

  "No! After that, I'm such a coward that it takes me a

  fucking year to tell you my feelings for you! And when I

  do, and you take me as your boyfriend, I lied to you and

  didn't tell you about my fun with the rope!" he cried.

  "Pokey, come on! You..."

  "And then my brother gets kidnapped by the

  fucking Russian asshole, and I just fell apart! You and me

  both know that I was a useless rock on that whole fucking

  trip! It was you and Marge that got him back, while I sat in

  my wet diaper like a fucking loser!"

  "Okay, I'm gonna ask you to please stop this talk

  right now!" I declared. "I mean it!"

  "...And look at me! I'm here crying on our fucking

  honeymoon about that piece of shit Torben Petersen, who

  wouldn't have cared one shitty bit if I'd succeeded with

  that rope, and you know it! I'm such a fucking coward,

  Johnnie, and I'm sick of it! Just fucking sick of it!" he cried.

  I held him in my arms for another half hour;

  enough time passed that I felt I could talk with him, and it

  might be heard.

  "Oh, Sander Lars Hansen," I began, "if I tell you

  something, will you promise me that you'll listen to what I

  have to say, and not say anything until I'm done?"

  "If I do, it'll be a coward's promise. So I can't

  guarantee anything," he replied.

  "Even for me? Your ol' ever lovin' man with yellow

  hair?" I tickled him a little. He half cried, half laughed.

  That got his attention.

  "Okay, for you I do."

  "Do you value my opinion at all?" I asked him.

  "Seriously. Does what I have to say to you carry any worth

  at all?"

  "Stupid question."

  "I'll take that as a yes," I said, rising from the bed

  and sitting on a chair so I could look him straight in those

  beautiful—if a bit wet—blue eyes.

  "Yes," he agreed.

  "Then listen to every word I'm going to say. Deal?"

  "Yes, yes..."

  "You are the most courageous person I have ever

  known in my life. You are strong, Sander. You are the one

  who makes me want to get up and face the day, every

  day," I told him.

  "See? Now you're sounding like my mother..."

  "I asked you to keep quiet, didn't I?"

  "Yes, but that's the kind of thing people say when

  they just want you to feel good. But I know the truth about

  me," he said.

  "It's clear to me that you don't. So I'm gonna crush

  that idiotic theory right here, right now," I told him. "Let's

  go back nine months and there's a knock at the door. On

  the other side of that door is the man who treated you the

  worst of any human being on this planet. Worse than the

  guy who stole Jannik! I'm telling you that if it was me, I

  would have smashed in his fucking face and thrown him

  into the cow pond!"

  "You wouldn't," he said.

  "The fuck I wouldn't! But guess what? A

  courageous man I know not only took him in, but made

  him feel like he was part of our family. That's how you

  sent him off from this world. You were courageous

  enough to not only forgive him, but to actually do what

  fuckers like my mom only talk about!"

  I wasn't finished with him. Not by a long shot.


  "And how about that trip to hell we took to

  Belgium? Ring a bell? Who never lost faith that we could

  do it? Who's the one who overheard the whole damned

  plot and kept me from delivering that asshole into the

  waiting arms of those fuckers who wanted to hurt my

  country?" I reminded him. "Courage? Or not?"

  He shrugged his shoulders like a middle-schooler

  in the headmaster's office being questioned about who

  spiked the punch at the dance.

  "Continuing, who had the courage to deal with—

  and forgive—that rascal brother of yours when he invaded

  our personal space in the worst way? What brother in all

  mankind would have dealt with it like you did?" I asked

  him. "That's why it makes me fucking angry when you say

  this about yourself."

  "I don't know, Johnnie. Maybe you're right, but you

  can't see what's inside of me!" Sander said. He wasn't

  giving it up easily.

  "And finally who, in this very room that we're in

  right now, had the courage to declare his love for

  someone? Who had the courage to say 'Fuck it, it's now or

  never?'"

  "Yeah, I know..."

  "Yeah, so do I. And it wasn't me. If it wasn't for

  your courage, Pokey Hansen, you and I would not be

  sitting here together, and we sure as hell wouldn't be

  married. So this is what I'll say, and then it's up to you

  from here..."

  "Okay, tell me." He said.

  "If you are a coward, then where do I sign up?

  Because if the whole world was as cowardly as you are,

  it'd be a fucking paradise. And I'm not being cute here,

  Pokey. I fucking mean it! I wanna be a coward, just like

  you!"

  That brought a smile to his face. Maybe I'd gotten

  through after all.

  "Now call your mother!"

  TORBEN'S MEMORIAL SERVICE took place at the

  hospital conference room. He'd known many of the nurses

  and doctors there, and more importantly, they

  remembered him.

  The only family that came was Torben's mother, his

  sister from Greenland, and the mother's current boyfriend.

  To their credit they had done their best to dress as well as

  they could. The portly man wore an ill-fitting suit, and the

  mom dressed in a black skirt and blouse.

  The sister was a little clueless, but she'd dressed

  well and it was clear that she was upset about the loss of

  her brother. She'd never really grown up with Torben, as

  she had a different father. And when he and Torben's

  mom broke up, she went with him, eventually winding up

  in Greenland.

  But she loved her brother very much, that much

  was clear.

  The service was conducted by the hospital

  chaplain, and he did a good job. Sander was at peace with

  it all, and Jannik seemed interested in what a dead guy

  looked like all dressed up and ready to go. He told us that

  Torben definitely looked better than the last time he'd seen

  him.

  "Hi, Sander. Do you remember me?" Torben's mom

  asked him after the service. She smelled of beer and

  cigarettes, but at least she wasn't drunk.

  "Yes, of course I do, Lena. How could you ask

  that?" Sander smiled. "I'm very sorry about Torben," he

  said.

  "Yes, he really was a good boy, you know. He was

  always very thoughtful and kind to everyone," she told

  him. Oh, really, lady? Are we talking about the same guy?

  I thought. Of course Sander, courage-a-plenty, said

  nothing to contradict her. He just smiled, and offered his

  hand in condolence.

  "That young boy said that Torben was staying with

  you. Is that true?" she asked.

  "Yes it is. That's my brother, Jan. He held Torben's

  hand when he passed," Sander said. "He just went to sleep

  as he smiled, and Jan held his hand until my mother and

  sister got there."

  That's the moment that the tears began for her.

  Until then she had tried to play the part of cheerful hostess

  at a going away party for her son. But that tender picture

  that Sander had painted let her know that her boy wasn't

  alone, and that he was loved.

  "Thank you for everything that you did for Torben.

  It means everything to me. It really does," she told him.

  DRIVING HOME WAS QUIETER than is usual for us.

  Jannik went home with Mama, and we'd already

  continued our honeymoon when we got in from

  Copenhagen last week. We figured that we could dream

  up someplace to go together anytime we wished for the

  usual honeymoon experience. For now, home just seemed

  the best place to be. And to me, every day spent with

  Sander was a honeymoon, anyway.

  Chapter 35

  eeks passed. It was autumn again and the weather

  was turning, right along with the leaves.

  W Jannik was getting ready to start back to

  school, and he had really taken to music. He never acted

  very excited about sports—a cardinal sin in Denmark. He

  tried sports more to please his dad. But he'd discovered

  that music was his passion. So practically every class that

  he signed up for that term had something to do with

  music.

  The next wedding looming on the horizon would

  be for Ingrid. So Mama was already dusting off her bridal

  books and pulling together the fabric samples. Uncle Ole

  and Aunt Bertha Moon sent us a whopper of a check for

  our wedding gift—they were on a beach in Spain over the

  holidays. Jannik told us that we'd better run it to the bank

  before Ole got up to something.

  Anders Nielsen sent us a very nice (and long!)

  email telling us how much it meant for him to come to the

  wedding. He attached a couple of photos of his wife and

  their baby. He'd grown up and had started his own good

  life. Sander was very happy for him, and we made the

  kind of long distance plans to get together that, likely as

  not, will never happen. We all just get too damned busy,

  and as it is there aren't enough hours in the day for Sander

  and me. He had a good idea, though. How about renting a

  cabin for a week on Bornholm? That might be a good

  second honeymoon, he suggested. Hey, whatever Sander

  wants, Sander gets, as far as I'm concerned. So I'll leave it

  with him.

  The therapy visits for both Sander and Jannik were

  reduced to once every three months, more as a check-up

  and progress report for them. A way just to touch base

  with the doctor so she could be satisfied that all was well.

  She did have one request that—the way she kept pressing

  it—was more than a request.

  "I want you to write down your story. What led

  you here? You really need to do this, Sander, so you can

  look at your life objectively. So you'll see what you have,

  and you'll start to be less hard on yourself," she had told

  him—numerous times!

  Of course he always offered a non-committal

  promise that he'd do it for sure. Yeah, he'd say, I'm

  working on i
t. To which she'd reply, When, when, when?

  It got to be a private joke between Pokey and me.

  As for Jannik the Peeping Tom; well, I was more

  than shocked when I learned of it. Sander asked me to join

  him and Jannik at the table, where a very upset little

  brother did his best to hold it together as he confessed his

  misdeeds outside our bedroom door.

  It wasn't good. It wasn't healthy for him. I told him

  as much, but I admit that it was hard to keep from

  laughing at the thought of the little dude pounding his

  pud to live Johnnie and Sander Porn. Kids are stupid

  sometimes, and he was sorry. Promised he wouldn't do it

  again. Faced the embarrassment like a man. So I'm not as

  upset as perhaps I should be.

  My work assignments were coming more

  frequently. Turns out I'd become very good at my job. I'd

  even gotten a letter from President Obama thanking me for

  my role in Operation Mango. Which is hilarious to me

  because I just knew I'd be fired after the first-class mess I'd

  made of it.

  Married life was treating us well. We quickly fell

  into that wonderful pattern where we know what the other

  one needs. We'd already been finishing one another's

  sentences for almost a year, but there was something about

  the commitment of marriage that just makes us bring out

  our best game. It's wonderful, I'll tell ya.

  "I know something you don't know!" Sander teased

  as he plopped down beside me on the romper couch. "Bet

  you wanna know, don't you?"

  "Nope. Ignorance is bliss." I said

  "Sure you do! Ask me!"

  "Ask you what?"

  "About the thing I know that you don't know!" he

  laughed.

  "No."

  "Do it!"

  "What do I get if I do?" I smiled suggestively.

  "Not that! Come on! Ask me!"

  "Okay. what do you know that I don't know?" I

  chuckled. "Tell me."

  "I bought something at the store today," he said.

  "And you'll never in a million centuries guess what it is!"

  "A new hat?"

  "Don't be dumb. You're not even trying! Guess for

  real!" he demanded with a grin.

  "I don't know. Ice cream?"

  "No! Better than that!"

  "Better than Ice Cream? Damn, this is serious!" I

  said. He nodded at me with a Cheshire cat smile plastered

  across his cute mug.

  "Try again, Johnnie Rocket!"

  "Give me a hint!" Hey, this might be shaping up

  into something."

  "Okay! First, it's a wedding present," he said.