Hybrid (Brier Hospital Series Book 7)

by Lawrence Gold

  Six months later, Denise asked, “When are we going to meet Adam? You two have become close friends.”

  Zack’s eyes widened. “May I invite him for dinner Sunday? We’ll barbecue.”

  “Why don’t you ask Ella to join us as well,” Denise asked.

  “Cool,” Zack said. He paused. “Should I invite Kenny?”

  “That’s strictly up to you,” Denise said. “You know him better than anyone.”

  Zack rushed from the room. “I’ll call them now.”

  Zack was sitting with Ella and Kenny on the patio. They were sharing nachos and drinking lemonade when Adam walked into the backyard.

  “Sorry,” Adam said. “I knocked, but nobody answered.”

  “That was a hint,” Zack said with a smile.

  Just then, Denise and Gabe came out from the back door.

  “Adam, this is my mother, Denise, my father, Gabe, my best friend, Ella, and her brother, Kenny.”

  Adam stared at Kenny for a moment, and then he shook hands with Ella, Denise, and Gabe. Kenny turned away when Adam offered his hand. Adam looked at Zack, and shook his head.

  “Kenny has Asperger syndrome,” Zack said. “He’s not into touching. Don’t take it personally, Adam.”

  “Whatever,” Adam said.

  Ella was staring at Adam. “You look like you might be brothers.”

  “Amazing resemblance,” Denise said.

  “Tell us a little about yourself, Adam,” Gabe asked.

  “I only give my name, rank, and serial number,” Adam said, and then paused. “Except for different parents, I suspect that my life will sound familiar to you. I grew up in Boise, Idaho. My parents both have Basque ancestry and were politically conservative until we moved to San Francisco Bay Area when the progressives got to them. I was seven at the time and went from a weirdo in Boise to a gifted child here. I’ll take gifted over weird, any time.”

  “I was different, too,” Zack said, “but the kids admired and liked me. Frankly, after a while, it became a burden…that is keeping up with expectations that grew larger each year.”

  “You’re describing something that I never saw,” Ella said. “I just remember you trying to be normal…not to stand out…to be one of the kids.”

  “In retrospect,” Denise said, “that was doomed to fail.”

  “I’m feeling really sorry for you guys,” Gabe said. “Perhaps it's time for a GLF, the Gifted Liberation Front.”

  Suddenly four pairs of eyes were staring daggers at him. Gabe raised his hands in surrender. “I should punctuate my comments with LOL, so you know when I’m kidding.”

  Denise turned to Adam. “Would you mind if I picked your brain a bit?”

  “Pick away, just leave me enough to find my way home.”

  “Zack said that you’ve been with the program for about three years,” Denise said. “What’s your overall impression?” She paused. “Trust me, I won’t quote you.”

  “I can speak only for myself,” Adam said, “although I know many students would agree with me.” He paused. “You’re the parents of a gifted child and I’m betting that you’ve read just about everything about your challenges and responsibilities, but you also know that each child is unique and there’s no one-fits-all program.”

  “If you’re an example of the benefits of this program,” Gabe said, “we feel encouraged. If you have misgivings or advise, please share them with us.”

  Adam looked at Zack. “Oppressed people, like the Basques, go one of two ways: they submit to their situation or struggle against it. You won’t find a hair of acquiescence at the Denisovan School where we strive to be the best we can for ourselves,” he hesitated, “and for our race.”

  “I don’t have that kind of identity,” Zack said, “and I’m not sure that I want to.”

  “There’s one thing for sure,” Adam said, “your participation in Basque culture and identity is strictly up to you. Nobody will suggest that you do anything contrary to your beliefs or principles. That’s my approach, and thus far, it's worked.”

  “Have you thought ahead to college?” Ella asked.

  “Of course. I had an interview at Cal and they all but guaranteed me admission to their computer science program. They even took me for lunch at the International House Café. Have you been there?”

  “Yes. I love that place,” Gabe said. “It’s one of the perks of being at Cal.”

  Adam looked from Gabe to Denise. “Despite this opportunity, if I have the opportunity to travel to Basque Country independently or as part of a college course, I don’t believe that I can resist. There’s always time for school.”

  As nightfall approached, Adam said, “What’s with Kenny…something about him isn’t right.”

  “Very perceptive,” Zack said. “I told you that he has Asperger syndrome.”

  “What a waste.”

  Zack stared at Adam. “Don’t talk that way. He has a disability, but he’s a sweet and loving boy. Don’t be so dismissive.”

  “Give me a break,” Adam said.

  “Cold, Adam,” Zack said. “Very cold.”

  “Whatever,” Adam said. “I’ll call my Dad to pick me up.”

  “Not necessary,” Gabe said. “C’mon Zack, let’s give Adam a ride home.”

  Ella and Denise hugged Adam. “We enjoyed having you,” Denise said. “Now I understand why Zack likes you so much. You must come again.”

  Adam smiled. “Count on it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  (2009)

  A week later, when Gabe arrived home late, he apologized to Denise. “Sorry, got delayed.”

  “What held you up?”

  Gabe took a deep breath. “I had a meeting with Zack’s basketball coach.”

  Denise’s eyes widened. “You did what?”

  “Oh, give me a break, Denise.”

  “How could you do that without first discussing it with me?”

  “He called this afternoon, and asked if I could stop by to talk about Zack. What was I supposed to do, tell him that I need a note from my wife first?”

  “What’s wrong with that? You know how I feel about the effect that others might have on Zack.”

  “If I knew that you were going to go postal about it, I might have reconsidered.” Gabe paused. “In addition, I don’t like to feel that I’m on a leash and I particularly resent the fact that your reaction says that you have reason not to trust me.”

  “I do trust you, but if you recall, we don’t agree on everything…sports being one of them.”

  “Although you’re a psychiatrist, I think it's time for you to sit with Lola, your therapist, and review what’s going on. From my perspective, what you’re doing is unhelpful.”

  Denise took two steps back, and then sank slowly into the sofa. Her eyes filled, and she lowered her head.

  “Now you’re making me feel like a shit,” Gabe said. “Don’t you want to hear about our conversation?”

  Denise crossed her arms. “Only if you really want to discuss it with me.”

  Gabe laughed, and Denise followed.

  “The saving grace in our marriage,” Gabe said, “is your transparency.”

  “You’d prefer that I be opaque.”

  Gabe laughed again. “Right. You’d be the world’s worst poker player.”

  Gabe slid beside Denise on the sofa and took her hand.

  She looked into Gabe’s eyes. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “Let me have my say before you chime in. We’re going to agree on most things, so let me get it all out. Moreover, you already know how Coach feels about Zack.”

  “No more intros, or provisos, Gabe. Just get on with it.”

  “Coach feels that while Zack has talent galore, he’s not really applying himself to the game. He thinks that while Zack’s upside potential is phenomenal, he’ll never realize his abilities unless he tries harder.”

  “Tell me more…”

  Gabe laughed. “You just can’t help yourself with that typ
ical shrink’s line.” Gabe paused and took another deep breath. “Coach is a good guy, and I know he really cares about Zack, but I’m not discounting the fact that Zack’s a key player, a team-changing player who could make any coach look good.”

  “Can we really trust Coach, or is he more like the East Bay Gymnastic guys?”

  “I’m not sure, Denise.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t take any chances,” Denise replied.

  “Do you think that a coach, even an aggressive one, can change Zack into a street thug or a serial killer?”

  “Not on your life. Zack’s personality is already formed. Nobody can change that.”

  “Let’s say we talk this over with Zack,” he said. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he had his own thoughts on the subject.”

  Denise and Gabe were sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee when Zack arrived home.

  “Come in for a minute,” Gabe said, “we want a word with you.”

  “Nuh-uh, what did I do now?”

  “You didn’t do anything,” Denise said. “We just want to talk.”

  Zack smiled. “I already know about the birds and the bees.”

  “Very funny,” Gabe said. “I had a talk with Coach today.”

  “I wish you hadn’t,” Zack responded. “He’s a good guy, but we come from different planets. I think that basketball’s a game. He takes it as a metaphor for life.”

  Gabe looked at Denise, and then back to Zack. “He thinks that you’re not playing up to your potential.”

  “He’s right. I’m not, and I don’t want to. Anyway, like all coaches, he lives to win.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Gabe asked. “Striving, working hard for success teaches discipline, and the value of hard work. For some, it's the path to higher education.”

  “Do I need a basketball scholarship to go to a university?”

  “Of course not,” Denise said grasping his hand. “We’ve already taken care of that.” She paused. “I think you’re not telling us something.”

  Zack thought for a moment. “Evolution got us this far, but for me, aggression and winning at all cost is coarse and embarrassing—it makes us less than we should be.”

  “So you’d dismiss as meaningless the preoccupation of the majority of the people,” Gabe said.

  Zack sat and held his head down.

  “He’s not dismissing anything,” Denise said. “He’s just saying that it's not for him.”

  Gabe shook his head in disappointment. He turned to his son. “You have no bigger fan than I, Zack. If that sounds elitist, too bad.” He turned to Denise. “Call me shallow, but I do take pride in Zack’s accomplishments of all types, and moreover, I trust in his character and judgment.”

  “I do, too.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Gabe said. “We’ve been naïve to think we’d be successful in hiding Zack’s talents, yes, and protecting him from the world, but we can’t do it; it's dishonest for us, and for Zack, too.”

  Zack managed a loud “Ahem,” and then he looked up at his parents, and smiled. “I have a good idea. Why don’t we ask the kid?”

  Chapter Thirty

  As Zack was lacing up his basketball sneakers, Gabe came into the room. “Who are the Titans taking on tonight?”

  “The Wildcats of Piedmont Middle School. We beat them once already this year, but it was ugly.”

  “Why ugly?” Gabe asked.

  “Their coach teaches the ‘take-no-enemies’ philosophy. He pushes his players too hard, and it shows. They have the highest foul rate, and it's common to see two or three Wildcats foul out. We try our best to avoid fouls, but the Wildcats, they rejoice in them.”

  “Doesn’t sound smart to me. Besides what kind of character building is that?”

  “You remember the last time we played? I wound up with an elbow-meets-eye shiner.”

  “Aggression is part of the game, but not the best part. But,” he paused, “if you let them push you around, they’ll just continue those tactics.”

  “It's not worth my aggravation,” Zack said. “If I want to, I can score at will. After all, it's just a game.”

  “For a genius, that’s a remarkably obtuse answer. You understand these kids, and what winning means to them, not to speak of what it means for their fathers.”

  “Frankly, Dad, I just don’t care that much.”

  The school bus dropped them off at the Piedmont gym, a Sixties-era facility with wood pull-out stands. The place was jammed with kids, faculty, and parents. As the MLK Titans walked the floor heading for the locker room, Wildcat fans booed, jeered, and made obscene gestures.

  Zack scanned the crowd as he walked with Coach at his side. “Not too friendly, Coach. No pitchforks and torches yet.”

  Coach looked at Zack and smiled. “Pitchforks and torches. You’re older than you look.”

  “It's classical horror movies. My family loves them.”

  “Anyway,” Coach said, “This place is a hell-hole. Just keep your head in the game.”

  Within five minutes after tap-off, Zack knew that things were going to get bad. The Titans, living up to their name, towered over their opponents, but what the Wildcats lacked in height, they made up with unrestrained violence.

  After a time out, Coach approached the referee. “You must be blind to all those fouls. Get control of this game or somebody’s going to get hurt.”

  The referee, a short man with thin grey hair, pushed his finger into Coach’s chest. “Don’t tell me how to do my job. Get your players on the floor, or it's a technical foul.”

  “Technical foul,” Coach cried. “What, are you nuts?”

  The referee blew his whistle, made a ‘T’ with his hands, and walked up to the scorekeeper. “Technical foul on the Titans.”

  After the Wildcats missed the free throw, Coach huddled with his team. “I’m sorry guys, but this is hometown officiating. Don’t react. Just play your game.”

  “This is unfair,” Zack said.

  “Tell me something I don’t know, kiddo, and I promise, this won’t be the last time you have to deal with it,” Coach said.

  Zack looked into the stand. When his gaze met Denise and Gabe’s, he shrugged his shoulders.

  They smiled back and gave two thumbs up.

  The Titans got off to an early lead with Zack hitting shot after shot from beyond the three point line. Even as they double-teamed Zack, he was able to take advantage of the coverage mismatch to get to the free player for an easy layup.

  Zack’s reflexes made him difficult to beat on defense as he easily blocked shot after shot.

  During a Wildcat time out, several of their players glowered and then pointed at Zack.

  When the Wildcats took the floor, Zack knew that something was wrong, but he ignored the feeling as he concentrated on defense. As one of the top Wildcats crossed the floor diagonally, he turned suddenly and headed directly toward the basket ramming right into Zack and knocking him to the floor.

  When the whistle blew, Zack prepared to go to the foul line.

  The referee pointed a finger at Zack and placed both hands on his hips. “Blocking.”

  Zack stared at the referee. “He ran directly into me. I couldn’t have gotten away from him if I tried.”

  The referee stared at Zack, and then approached, and leaned over. In a whisper, he said, “You shut the fuck up, or you’re out of here.”

  When Coach approached the two, he said, “What’s going on here? That was an offensive foul if I ever saw one.”

  “If you’re not off the floor in two seconds,” the referee said, “that will be another technical.”

  “You’re out of your goddamn mind. We have this on tape, and when I’m finished with you, you won’t be refereeing for the Brownies.”

  When Coach moved closer, the ref made the gesture for another technical foul, and said, “One more, and I’ll eject you. Now get the hell off the floor.”

  In the fourth quarter, the referee had managed to charge Zack with f
our fouls, none legitimate.

  Zack was fuming.

  In the stands, Denise turned to Gabe. “What do you think?”

  “I think that our son is about to encounter one of life’s unpleasant experiences.” He paused. “And, I don’t think it's going to be that easy for him.”

  As the clock ran down to five minutes, the referee called the fifth foul on Zack, and sent him to the bench for good. The score showed the Titans up by three points, 53 to 50.

  Zack was devastated as he watched his team lose by five points. 53 to 58. He sat on the bench trying to hide his tears. As the Wildcats left the floor, several gave Zack the finger.

  He lunged for the boys, but Coach held him back. “Don’t Zack.”

  After Coach congratulated the team for its effort, he walked up to Zack. “I’m really proud of the team, especially you. You did the best you could under the circumstances. I’ll be lodging a protest over the officiating.”

  Zack shook his head in disgust. “Won’t do too much good, now.”

  Zack was headed for the bus when Gabe signaled for him to come home with them. On the drive, Zack sat in the back with his arms across his chest. He remained silent.

  Denise turned to face Zack. “I’m so sorry, honey. Life isn’t always fair.”

  “That referee…he didn’t know me at all, yet he hated me. How could he hate someone he doesn’t know?”

  “He didn’t hate you,” Gabe said. “He was just a hometown ref trying to curry favor with his team.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad, but you just don’t know. He hated us, but mostly, he hated me.”

  Denise stared at her son. “He didn’t…”

  Zack raised his palm. “Trust me. I know.”

  “How do you know?” Gabe asked.

  “I just know.”

  Tears filled Zack’s eyes, as he turned away, embarrassed.

  Denise reached into the backseat and grasped Zack’s hand. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset. Sports brings out the worst in some. You can’t let them get to you.”

  Gabe glanced into the rearview mirror at Zack, and he smiled. “Maybe I should go back and kick the crap out of that ref?”