A simple story II part 3
#3 of A simple story II
The old and beige Lincoln gently travelled the last streets of the estate before arriving at its destination. Behind the wheel, Daisy tried vainly to curb a yawn by turning into the alley of her house. She mentally noted the height of the grass to determine whether or not she would ask Fred or John to mow the garden. Now that Fred was no longer a child, she was pleased to be able to rely on her supplementary help for the maintenance of the house. Like his husband, Fred was trained to obey her injunctions without much debate. As long as he stays under her roof, the boy should obey. This participated in his training to become a responsible and respectable adult after all.
Leaving the steering wheel after cutting the engine, Daisy smooth down her green skirt with a quick hand and opened the trunk, taking the two heavy paper bags containing the purchases of the day. A soft leg helped her to close the tailgate without dropping the bags that occupied her two arms. But she had to put them ashore to open the entrance door. The walls of the house were shaking somewhat under the basses, effect of Fred's music. Daisy bowed her head. Despite her warnings, Fred insisted on putting the sound of his radio too loud.
She could imagine dancing alone in his room, following the syncope and repetitive rhythms of dubstep he was listening to often. The young woman put the bags on the kitchen table and began to withdraw the food. Once the table was crowded with boxes, bags and sachets, she opened a drawer and released some knives. Quickly, bowls, cups, plates covered the countertop opposite the window that gave up on the street. The music wasn't stopping. Dumbstep. Daisy thought that this name would stick to reality. Stupid walk. At her age, she listened when she could at least to real music. Funk and Disco. That, at least, had remained in popular culture on the contrary to so many other ephemeral genres of which she hoped to see dubstep to belong.
After completing the preparations, Daisy climbed into her room to remove her work clothes and pass a more comfortable and convenient trousers and shirt. She came out of the room and was tempted to knock at the door of Fred. But the music would definitely cover her calls. Without departing, Daisy regained the kitchen, opened the door of a closet and quickly looked at the electric counter. She placed her finger on the third fuse in the top row and disconnected it.
Immediately, the music stopped. The teenager's voice pushed a
« Hey ! »
highly reprobing and short. It was not the first time that it happened, and Fred immediately understood the message.
« It's okay, I'm coming ! »
Daisy didn't need to see her son to guess the grimace on his face. With fun, she remembered that she herself had suffered such an energy embargo in her teen ages. And it was his turn to engage in such expedients. Fred went down the stairs, his steps betraying his slight anger. Believing that he had the presence of mind to cut off his radio before descending, Daisy snapped the fuse. No sound. She was right again.
Fred's voice was tinted with disapproval.
« Why didn't you just called me ?
- Because I knew you weren't hear anything. Or you'd do as if you hadn't heard anything. »
Fred ranted a little bit. His mother wasn't wrong. As usual. Like his mother, Fred had been comfortable returning from high school, swapping shirt and trousers against shorts and a T-shirt.
« You made me come for what ?
- I've had a good day, thank you for asking. How about your ? »
Fred had a little look, sorry to have missed the social ritual. Daisy noted the implicit excuse.
« As usual for a school re-entry. I found some friends, I met other people.
- Now that we're done with all those move-ons, you will finally be able to make real relationships. »
Fred wasn't against the idea.
« This is the kind of thing that counts in life. One of the most important. We often need the others, and when we have no family close to ourself, we are always happy to find a friendly shoulder. »
Fred agreed, even if he didn't know if this sermon had a connection with his required presence. He saw the groceries spread on the table. Automatically, he approached to start storing them in the closets, but Daisy had a sign of stopping.
« You will do this later. For the time being, we're going to make food. I've been planning pork chops and a carrot and potato gratin for tonight. As well as pastas. »
Fred shrugged an eyebrow.
« We ? »
Daisy noded.
« I know the risks of letting you have a spoon. But I have to ignore your culinary handicap, it's time for you learn to cook properly ! »
Fred looked at the elements that covered the table and the workplan. The alignment of vegetables, meat, utensils made him the effect of being on the verge of learning Chinese, to absolutely have to do so when he had no desire and that he did not see it useful.
« But...
- There's no but ! »
Daisy's tone was unequivocal. This would not prevent Fred from attempting the impossible to escape.
« But I don't know anything about cooking ! I wouldn't even know where to start !
- That's the reason I'm staying here. We've been working too hard for your father and I have this roof to let you put it in fire by making tea ! »
Fred winced. The image would be insulting if there was no part of truth. Daisy smiled.
« How do you do your homework ? »
Fred looked at his mother, aback.
« Like everyone else, I imagine.
- What do you do ? »
Fred still looked at his mother. He didn't understand the relationship between his homework and the kitchen. Daisy obviously waited for his answer, Fred tried to be as precise as possible.
« Well... I Take my books, look at the exercise, I do it. »
Daisy shook her head, smiling a little.
« It's not all you do, right ? »
Fred didn't always see or she wanted to come. Daisy helped him.
« Imagine you doing a math exercise for the first time. How do you do it ? »
Fred imagined such a case.
« I... I'm taking my books, I look at the statement. I'm trying to figure it out, see what formulas I have to use, and I'm doing it. »
This time, Daisy nodded.
« Cooking is so to say the same. You look at the recipe, you determine what ingredients you need, and what utensils you have to use. »
Daisy opened a drawer and pulled out a peeler.
« It's the base of everything. Then it's a matter of experience. A formula that you use the first time seems more complicated than the one you used for six months, right ? »
Fred was beginning to understand. It was obvious now that the right connections were made.
« I suppose so. Trigonometry is painful at the beginning but forceful exercises are done without thinking ! But I don't always see why I should do all this ! »
Fred considered the oil, butter, fresh vegetables, the meat always packed as well as the onions. Daisy replied, waving the short knife beneath his boy's nose, gestures illustrating her words, making sure to impress him without touching him.
« Because you're not a child anymore, Fred ! You will soon be in age to plot your own path and if there are two things I absolutely refuse you to be, it is to be a pasha who never puts your shoulder in the wheel and leaves everything to his maid by staying the ass on the couch, or one of those no-life who spend their time butts on the chair in front of a computer feeded by delivered pizzas and lukewarm coke ! »
The short blade drew arabesques just beneath Fred's nose, which feared each movement that the blade would touch it. That forced him to be attentive.
« You still have to know that I will never have a maid ! »
Fred was still trying to get out of it. But even he knew the part was lost. His mother was right, and he knew it.
« Fred, whether you're with a man or a woman, it's the same ! Each element of the couple must be able to take care of his home ! The division of household chores is paramount. It's a question of morality and respect for the other. Your homosexuality doesn't change anything. You must even consider yourself lucky to be because if you were straight, I would have been much tougher with you ! »
Fred wondered what changes could bring about loving men instead of a woman. He renounced to think when his mother seized a carrot, put the knife and took back the peeler.
« I'm going to show you. You'll do the rest then. »
The boy forced himself to be attentive. Daisy faced the sink and a quick gesture, she began to peel the carrot. The skin slats felt into a basket present in the stainless steel sink at a fast pace.
« No need to rush when it's your turn. It's better to lose a little vegetable than a finger ! »
Fred fully agreed.
« You know, we can buy it already peeled. And also cut. »
Daisy shook her head.
« I know. But it costs more expensively, and besides, they always put preservatives in addition. As much avoid loading the stomach with chemicals !
It doesn't even cost as expensive as that, right ?
You're mistaken ! It's easy to save a dozen bucks a week when buying a fresh, then preparing it. Over one year, do the math ! »
The young woman was looking at Fred, smiling. She was pleased to see him a little attentive. Once the carrot were peeled, she put it on a wooden kitchen plank and she cut it in regular thickness slices. Carrot rings ended up in a bowl prepared for this attention. Then Daisy tended the peeler to his son.
« One made. Seven to go ! »
Fred eventually realized that the seven were for him. Unable to flee, he resigned and took another carrot and the peeler and began to settle the vegetable's skin as he had seen it done. His gestures were less precise than his mother's, but he was doing his best to take only minimal skin. After a few minutes of effort, the first carrot was peeled. He put it on the board and began to cut it. He was still a little distracted by the math. A hundred bucks a year, at best. The economy didn't seem very big.
« Be careful to make pieces of identical size or almost ! »
Fred looked at his mother.
« It's important ?
- Oh, yes ! Identical pieces will be cooked at the same time. Chopped vegetables no matter how either will be too cooked or will not be enough ! »
Fred looked at the carrot rings already cut. Indeed, it made sense. He was careful to cut pieces of identical thickness and made it quite easily.
« Six to go ! »
Fred didn't waste time and took another carrot. The more he peeled, and more his gestures were fast and mastered. His rhythm was better once he realized all the music he had been able to buy with the money saved. The amount was not huge, but it represented about ten albums a year roughly. Fred was beginning to see the importance of controlling a budget, and the advantages that it made.
His mother was right. And the exercise repeated several times more and more easily also.
Seeing her son able to fend for himself, Daisy wore her attention to the cooking appliances.
The boy wore his hands to his nose and sniffed them. The acre smell of the raw vegetable impregnated his fingers, as well as the residual moisture. A good cleaning would not be too much.
Everything was ready or almost. The vegetables were in chunks, Daisy began preparing the cooking sauces and then she would cook the meat. The kitchen itself required more experience than Fred had. Knowing the talent of her son to be dangerous in the room, Daisy felt it was best to go step by step.
« You can go wash your hands, i'il take care of the rest.
Really ?
Yes. You've done well for a first time. »
Fred couldn't prevent a smile on his face.
« You still have a lot to learn. But it will be for another time !
- Because there will be other times ??? »
Daisy nodded, amused.
« Of course ! Don't imagine I'm going to let you go before you can live alone ! This time will arrive faster than you think... »
Daisy had adopted a slightly darker tone for this last sentence. It was inevitable, and she knew it. Fred would be able to live alone on his side. The prospect wasn't enchanting at all. Fred knew it too.
He also realized that he would have to leave someday. He didn't feel the envy or the need. But he'd do like everybody else, he'd go away.
For where and when, he didn't knew himself, and he didn't even know how he would know.
The kitchen began being filled by the smells of vegetables in full cooking. The sweet note of carrots impregnated the nostrils more than the neutral potato starch.
« Mmmmm... carrots gratin incoming ! »
John's strong voice surprised a bit of the two Kaplan already in the house. Concentrated on their preparations, they had not noticed the opening of the door.
John was closing the eyes to better appreciate the wet smells of the prepared vegetables. He closed the door behind him, looking at the contents of the kitchen. He was in playful mood despite the large traces of sweat that flowed his forehead, tinting his blue shirt with darker traces beneath the armpits and on the torso.
« Still no AC ? »
Daisy noticed on a exasperated tone. Another shirt to wash. John shook his head.
« This is no longer urgent, the big heats have passed. It will wait well January.
- And why not now ? »
Daisy was trying to lower the laundry note by all means. Fred had begun to go out of the kitchen to regain his room but the exchange between his parents could prove interesting. So he stayed.
« Come on, darling, you know it as well as I do ! Craftsmen are always cheaper in winter. Except the heating engineers. There they are cheaper in summer. »
Even for Fred it was logical.
« I know, but I'm doing more and more laundries for you to have something to put on your backs ! »
Daisy turned her gaze to Fred, who hadn't the time to run before she ended her sentence.
« By the way, I must also to teach you how to deal with the ironing ! »
John smiled, observing his son's unspiteful mine. He was pleased to see him as somewhat prone to domestic chores as a matter of nature. He seemed like a real guy after all.
« How this first day was, my boy ? »
Fred kept a sigh of exasperation. He started talking about his day with his mother. He wasn't reluctant to that, but to repeat himself.
« As a first day. We ran like freaks to find our halls and then we got bored to death. »
John looked at him, with a satisfied eye. He kept his gaze straight on his son. Fred quickly understood why.
« And I also found a club. Krav-Maga. »
John didn't know what it was.
« What is it?
- A Jewish martial art. Finally, Israeli. I think it's taught by IDF to all his soldiers. »
Daisy, who chopped pieces of meat, disapproved. It was on his face.
« You're really going to fight then ? »
The tone used by the latter was unpleasant. That surprised John.
« Not necessarily. Martial arts are above all made for defense. I mean, almost all. »
Fred nodded, agreeing with his father.
« I thought about getting into judo, but a girl took me the last spot. »
Daisy kept for her a sigh of resignation. The men were all the same.
« A girl ?
She wrote her name right under my nose. A pretty nice girl anyway.
Pretty ? »
John was a little surprised by the remark.
« Pretty, yes. You know daddy, even if I'm not straight, I'm still able to say if a girl is pretty or not. In any case, Lorette has just reregistered. She comes from Utah. She and her parents left because of the local desertification.
- You know a lot of things about her. »
Daisy's voice was amused. Almost snide. Fred tried to ignore the tone.
« We spent the lunch time talking together. Besides, I wouldn't be here next Saturday, she and I are going to the local museum.
- You have a date with a girl ??? »
John was surprised. Even amused ! Fred didn't seem to know why.
« I don't have a date, she and I are just going to go out together an afternoon ! »
Daisy had put her knife down. She wore a firm hand to her face to avoid exploding laughing. Fred noticed when his father did the same move.
If Fred had been near a wall, he would undoubtedly have hit his forehead repeating against, realising what was happening.
The midday meal took place very quickly according to the viewpoint of the two teenagers. And without realize, Fred had picked up a date. With a girl !
He didn't know what was most humiliating for him. This, or the fact of not getting noticed sooner ! Nevertheless, he hid his eyes with his hand.
« I have a date... With a girl... »
John was really amused, just like his wife.
« Come on, it's just... surprising. You're not the first boy to come out with a girl !
But I'm not dating ! It's... Just came as this in conversation !
Did you told her ? »
Fred turned his eyes on his mother.
« About ? »
Daisy wore on his son a heavy glance of the implied. That Fred eventually decrypts.
« No.
- And why that? »
The question, serious, deserved a time of reflection.
Why didn't Fred told her ?
A finger interrogative beneath the nose, looking down, Fred asked to himself the question.
« I don't actually know. I think...
- You think what ? »
Fred looked up. The question posed by his mother was sufficiently serious for making her leaving her stoves. John, he kept his gaze at him, while heading towards the fridge.
« I think it's one thing that only concerns me in the end. I'm not ashamed or afraid of being gay, but it's my business. »
Daisy shook her head in a slow gesture of denial.
« I'm afraid not, Fred. She must know. At one time or another, but she must be informed !
- And why that ? »
Daisy shrugged her shoulders. Fred was intelligent, but he was still lacking of experience about the respect of social relations.
« Fred, if what I think is right, this girl has put her vested on you ! Considering what you said to us, she doesn't seem to be a whore who throws herself on the first coming boy ! If she agrees to quickly tie up with you, there's a great chance for it to be for more than just friendship ! That's why you need to tell her. Not to hurt her. Give her false hopes. That would be the worst thing to do. »
Fred listened attentively to his mother. In the kitchen, the father was back from the fridge, a beer in his hands. He agreed with his head to show his agreement with his wife's words.
This was putting things more in perspective for Fred. His former feminine friendships began to be old, and more of the order of childhood than anything else.
Having become a teenager, he understood the evolution of the relationships that existed between the different sexes. Innocent games left slowly behind the deeper and more intimate feelings. One thing that he was not very conscious of, his attraction had always been worn to the male.
But by paralleling this evolution with his own memories, his friendships which sometimes had changed by attraction, in passion, he understood the viewpoint of his mother.
« I think I'm beginning to understand. But I'm not sure Lorette really wants to make me her boyfriend ! I don't really want to make my coming-out for nothing ! »
John was attentive to the conversation, despite his eyes closed and the beer bottle most often in his mouth.
« Being not gay, it's something that I completely ignore. You know my franchise about this, son. You are my child and as I will always be behind you, also to kick your ass ! »
Fred's attention was on his father.
« Even if I do not know if I will be totally comfortable one day in this matter, it does not exempt me from my role as a father. Your mother's right. This girl deserves you to be honest about this, don't you think so ? »
The mention of his father's slight discomfort did not affect Fred. He knew it and he was used to it. And then, seeing his father's gaze upon him, he knew that he would never have anything to fear of him. Daisy was also conscious, that was why she didn't resume her husband, believing that he was equally right about it.
« No doubt. But I don't want to do it for anything.
- Are you scared ? »
Fred looked at his father more intensely.
« Yes. I think we can say that. Greg did it under the best possible conditions and he almost got beaten ! I am no one there, I dare not imagine how much I will be able to trample on this subject ! We're in the middle of the Bible belt here after all ! »
Daisy closed her eyes and shook her head in a sign of complacency. John was looking at his right son in the eye.
« No Fred, things are different. Greg is the captain of the football team. So sad to say, but it's the truth, he somehow betrayed his fellow students. From their point of view. You're not part of any team. You're a perfect anonymous. You've just arrived, and no one here will feel disappointed to know you gay. Except for Lorette, if she really has a crush on you. »
Daisy stayed silent. As hard as her husband's words were, she found nothing to complain about. It did not give it to feel strengthened in its conviction to know truly stupid men by nature sometimes. One thing seems inherent in their sex.
« Do you really think he betrayed them ? »
John nodded, sadly.
« I'm practically certain. The sporting world is merciless, Fred. It exacerbates masculine values. Even sporting women are no exception. You have to remember a little about Tonya Harding, don't you ? »
Fred closed his eyes to think about a short moment, reopening quickly.
« The skater ?
- Yes. They say men more violent than women. But I think it's not true. Women have just another form of violence, more subtle, but also destructive. »
It was not good to admit it, but Daisy also agreed. She had enough experience in life to know that women could be as violent as men. It was different, however. If the men came to the fists, her sisters were more worn on the poison slowly instilled.
« The captain is supposed to be an example, a model, a goal. I sincerely doubt that about fifteen heterosexual boys are overwhelmingly agreeing to follow him without a certain rejection. I don't know how the year is going to happen for him, but I'm sure the worst is coming ! »
Fred stayed silent, the face worried. He knew the story of the Prom night and Greg and Francis always spoke on a cheerful tone in spite of the knotted drama.
Was it a way to conjure the spell ? Unconsciousness ? Fred had no way of knowing it. Not to counter the course of events.
« I don't know if you're right, Daddy. It must still make you understand why I am not in a hurry to say it ! »
Daisy wanted to intervene but seeing John advancing in front of his boy and put a firm and warm hand on his cheek, she stayed in place. She had confidence in her husband, and she knew that it was part of the renewal of the ties between Fred and his father.
« I can only imagine. Not to say anything. But I'm not going to do my father's work if I don't care about it. I can't force you to do it, even if I think that's what you need to do. So imagine you for a moment in this girl's place, maybe in love with you. Try to imagine what she might feel when she's going to find out the truth while her feelings for you will be grown up. Put yourself in her place for a moment. Then you'll know what you need to do. »
Fred felt the hot hand as a gift. He had seen this gesture so often in his early childhood, to console himself to almost never see his severely ill mother. It was engraved in him. And once his father left in Central America, he had attempted to find that sensation. But neither his mother's hand nor his as a substitute had been able to provide an acceptable palliative.
His trust in his father was total. He also indulged in a few moments with this introspection. John knew what his boy was doing. So he withdrew his hand gently. Passed only a few seconds before Fred delivered his verdict.
« I think I would not like that, indeed.
- You see ? »
Fred didn't really like to realize it. He didn't really like being wrong, just as a teenager was picked up by his parents. The souvenir of Mark's blower was perennial and even revived. But the fact is they were right. Once again.
« I don't want to do it for nothing. But I don't want to humiliate her either. That would be unfair. I'm going to go to the date and I'll see. If she doesn't ask me anything, I won't say anything. But if she wants a second date, I'll tell her. It's the most honest thing to do. »
Back to her baking dishes, Daisy smiled. The thing was acceptable. John was also satisfied.
« Well spoken ! »
Fred smiled, relieved. His proposal was accepted. Smiling, he resumed the way to his room by the stairs. It seemed to him that he had no reason to stay down and no one would hold him.
John returned to his wife, gently squeezing her out of the back, his hands on the thighs of the woman still as desirable according to him.
« I knew we talked about having four on five kids, but I think with only him, it's pretty enough finally ! »
Daisy smiled, dropping a moment her spoon that felt into the pot full of baking juices.
« Mmmm yeah, he gives us enough worries like that ! »
John's smile grows, sniffing the slightly sweaty neck of his wife, who could not hold a giggle of desire.
« What a story... A gay son dating a girl... I come to doubt his homosexuality... »
Daisy attempted to curb a yelp of surprise, John continuing to feel the body of his wife.
« I will not be able to say, even if I doubt he is lying about it. What interest would he have ? »
John's thoughts were shared between a rise in his lubricity and questioning about the sexual orientation of his only child. This did not seem to slow down the movements of his hands that rubbed his wife's belly, alternately tempting to go higher, then lower, his wife's hands lightly and amicably contrite movements judged too eager.
« I have no idea. We will really know only the day or he'll have a boyfriend. Or not. I don't even know if he... If he's still... If he hasn't already... »
John's hands slowed, somewhat paralyzed by the impropriety of his thoughts on the possible debut of his son's sexual life. Daisy was also trying not to think about this taboo issue.
Their thoughts and movements were froze when from the staircase came the answer.
The voice of John wore away and Fred, from the top of the stairs, had not missed a piece of the conversation. Put somewhat angry at this intolerable intrusion of his private life, he descended and it was a voice full of pride that he broke his father's mood of a obnoxious
« Yea, and it was great ! »
Before he ascended, satisfied. Knowing that he would have cut all lust to his parents for a while.
--
« Greg ! »
The powerful voice of the math's teacher had been strong enough to startle the whole class. By reflex, all eyes turned to the wrongdoer. Sitting in the fourth row, near the center, Greg looked at the angry tiger's eyes.
« Yes Sir ?
Put this cell off before an hammer falls accidentally on !
But I don't look at my cell, mister ! »
Sitting on his chair, Greg was trying to quietly close the device and put it back in his pocket. The fabric of his tight pants however prevented him to put the phone back in the pocket where it had been took shortly before. The class, filled with a few light whispers, was now completely silent. No one, not even the mad Professor, missed the sound of the plastic plates to stick against the other. Greg wore a smile of circumstance, trying to do whatever it was not. A slight movement of the hips pulled away his pocket and he could put his cell phone in place, feigning innocence.
« Thinking than I'm so stupid ? »
The teacher raised his head and saw, a little chagrined, that time was approaching to release his students.
« I don't have the time for a lecture in good and due form, but for the next class, you'll review the first three lessons of the last two days. There will be a test, you can thank your friend for that ! »
A wave of resentment and protest went up, the tiger gave a cold and determined look at the class who understood that they would not succeed. Eyes then turned to Greg who somewhat lowered his head, muttering a "sorry" to his fellow students. The words of protests remained in the throats of the high school students, the ringtone releasing students from their daily servitude. Greg sighed, putting his books, trying not to look at his friends who slowly left the class and preparing to return to their homes. In turn, leaving the room, Greg had no effort to avoid the gaze of the teacher who was busy to store his papers by talking with another student come ask him for some advice.
The bag placed casually on his right shoulder, Greg get in the corridor without haste, reaching the exit, following the stream of students satisfied to have to leave for the rest of the day. In his usual, Greg drew the flow once out and put his butt on the railing of the wide staircase, waiting for Francis to return with his friend. For the time, Greg took his cell and reread the message that had caused the collective punishment. It was from Francis.
« I'll see him again ! »
Greg knew what was the matter. On second thought, he doubted a bit. Francis had not had a boyfriend before him, so that couldn't be it. And who was the male person that Francis knew and could not see for a long time ?
Not Fred. Francis was friendly with him, but there were moments or his eyes betrayed his resentment.
Dave ? He now lived on the West Coast, in the middle of humid forests infested by mosquitoes, and according to some by immature werewolves and vampires so effeminate than even their girlfriends looked manlier than themselves.
Only Francis senior remained in the list. The father of his friend. Locked up for months and not ready to come out of prison someday.
Coincidence. It was at the moment or that name came to his head that his slightly obese and gay son appeared at his side. Greg's face bore a warm smile that the donkey returned him sincerely.
« You know that because of you the whole class is mad at me ? »
Francis did not understood what it was about. The tone used by Greg carried no real complaint, also Francis wasn't really mad at him.
« What do you mean ?
- I was still in class when I got your message. I wanted to take a look at it but the teacher saw me. So, test the next day and a popularity rating down fast ! »
Francis swept the argument with one hand.
« They will forget in a week.
Maybe. But it doesn't make me happy.
I can well imagine. But you were also not obliged to jump on your cell phone upon receipt of the message. »
Greg stood up and the two boys began coming down the stairs slowly.
« I know. It's just that sometimes, I miss you. »
Francis smiled broadly.
« You too, you know. But it's sometimes better be patient. I was, and I am rewarded.
You'll see him, then? I thought that no visit was possible before the judgment.
In theory, Yes, but I am his minor son, and such ban seems to contravene the laws on the protection of children.
It's nice.
Yes. I miss him too, you know. I know what shit he made, and I think I know why. But I miss him still.
Why he did that, then?
For me. Finally, I think. »
Francis bowed his head, speaking more slowly, more gently, with more sadness, however.
« He failed at everything. He tried to rebuild his life. And offered me a fresh start. I didn't told you, but he asked me if it was interested to leave the state to live elsewhere.
He wanted to go ? Really ?
Yes. I can still hear him. »
Francis made the sign of the quotation.
« I quit, I cancel the lease and leave ! »
Greg looked at his friend with a curious, fearful eye somewhat.
« He told me I could think about it. I just told him that I was not very excited by the idea. Of course, I did not said why.
I understand better. You also know why he did not wanted you to see him earlier ?
No. But I guess he needed time to deal with his actions. Dad was always easily ashamed. Except when he was drank. »
Greg stopped walking, looking at Francis with an anxious eye.
« I don't like the idea of knowing that I almost lost you... »
Francis smiled.
« I told him I would think about it, but inside of me, I knew that I didn't wanted. »
Outside of the walls of the school, the boys felt more relaxed, less spied upon. Francis the first. Greg did not protest when the donkey took his hand into his, causing only a broad smile on the face of Greg.
« Do you think that your father has a chance ? To go out without too much damage, I mean. »
Francis shook his head.
"Not with a flagrante delicto. Neither his confession. He pleads guilty to what his lawyer told me. Perhaps this should make him win a few years, but not much.
- And his lawyer ? He can't do anything else ? »
Francis released the hand of Greg, laugthing.
« You're kidding ? He is a public defender. He had to spend half an hour on this issue before focusing on something more lucrative. But I must admit that he did so that I can see him. He is perhaps not so bad as that. »
Greg returned his smile to Francis.
« I am glad at least you could see him again. Even once. »
Greg was trying to keep a playful tone, but it sounded wrong in his words. Francis had no trouble to find out why.
« I know. Maybe for you, this will work out one day. At least with your pa... Finally, you know who I'm talking about. »
Francis was almost out the taboo word about the wrong person. In the eyes of Greg, Rusty was nothing.
« This is nothing. But there is no chance, no.
Mustn't say that. You never know.
They are gone. »
Greg quickly gave that last sentence. As if it burned him for weeks. Francis looked at him, puzzled.
« What do you mean?
They are gone. I don't know where.
How do you know ? »
Greg kinda ducked his head. He knew that he had done nothing wrong, but he felt guilty for betraying Mark.
« I knew soon after the judge changed my parentage. I was happy to have real parents. People able to understand me, accept me really. But I wasn't satisfied. It was the day before your arrival. I went back to my old house. I didn't told to dad because I knew he would not appreciate. I don't know what I was looking for. Real answers, perhaps. A confirmation, to clear my recent regrets. I don't know. I knocked at the door and a stranger opened. I did not paid attention to the new name on the mailbox. They went a bit after kicking me out. The house was sold quickly and they gave no address. »
Francis paid more attention to the sparse crowd that flowed slowly toward the exit. His only thought was made of compassion. Greg forced himself to smile anyway.
« At least, this has answered some of my questions. It clarified a lot of things in my head. I have parent, Francis. Mark and Ed. They are the only ones I call that way now. »
Greg continued his walk and his journey led him on the side of the establishment. He saw off the training grounds, without more attention than that. Pass it along to the sports Board allowed the boy to shorten its path to house a few hundred meters. Greg was careful to keep an attractive smile to the donkey, who suffered even more than usual.
« It took some days to recover. Your arrival at the house delayed a little the things because I was more worried about you than to me. »
Francis returned his smile to Greg. A smile a little forced, but sincere.
« We had a lot of stuff in the end. Normal that we have stones on the stomach. »
Greg agreed. He looked at Francis right in his eyes and his smile froze a bit, replaced by a question mark. The donkey was aware, but he did not knew why. Francis found that Greg was watching something behind him. He turned and saw nothing special. On the football field, the team, uniformed bustled warming up. Why Greg was watching his...
Francis began to understand the incongruity of the thing.
« It's a day of training ? You... You didn't knew ? »
Greg did not answered. He began to walk to the stadium, the restless mind. Had he missed the message indicating the date and time of the training ?
No. He had checked his mail three times that day. He had not received anything.
Had a technical problem deprived him of the message ?
Possible. It happened to him to receive emails well after they were issued. Computer servers could have problems sometimes.
But no one warned him. Not one of his classmates. Not even the coach who stood at the edge of the field, watching the players do their warm-up, wearing already their footballers outfits, with the exception of the helmet.
Greg traveled the last few metres running. The deep sound of his breathing, heaviness of his steps warned Leonid of his arrival. The coach turned, a sad look in his eyes.
In a voice deep, firm, and shameful, he said. A single sentence. Leonid had not the courage to look him in his eyes.
« I'm sorry, Greg... »
--
He was not fooled. Releasing the door handle, Leonid knew that he had only a reprieve. Raising his head, he peered to look the empty office. Facing the door, against the back wall, was his desk. The place of the Dean. To his left stood two tables aligned. Empty, with the exception of a few papers. Nothing that more normal, after all, sports teachers spent more time on the field or in the gym than on their seats. The right wall was pierced by a large window overlooking the football field. The day was beginning to wane and the green rectangle was now empty of all presence after having been walked the last three hours by a crowd of regulars and suitors. The lion looked at the sheets in his hand, covered by an entry fast and intense, defaced. He should spend the evening to assess fairly the suitors and announce in the coming days the happy applicants and their positions on the team.
Leonid closed his eyes, chagrined. He had no desire to do so, despite his ten years of experience.
For the first time, the lion had only one desire. Sit at his desk, take his phone book and say to each member of the team that they could go to hell.
What upset it, besides the fact that he had no more to say, was to see the school management abound in their direction.
Without a word or a groan, Leonid sat behind his desk, disappointed, humiliated.
His points had remained a dead letter. Nothing of what he had been able to say had weighed in the decision. He had thought to resign, but he felt that to balance his resignation wouldn't have helped anything, if not to lose his job.
Leonid flaunted the sheets on the desk, looking at them with a vague look. His decision in regard to the applicants was actually taken. His experience allowed him to say who was on the team and who would not. Two or three exceptions remained.
Somewhat taken aback, he estimated yet that the newbies would be a valuable contribution.
But losing Greg, especially this was a blow to his probity.
The hands under the chin, Leonid could not yet see that his fears were that confirmed, nothing else.
He had a shock, it's true. Greg taking the boy's hand before kissing him on his mouth in front of everyone... A kiss filled with affection, sincerity. Shared with another boy of his age. It wasn't something that he had considered. Not for one moment. And seeing him, he had thought of one thing. The problems this would cause.
Leonid raised his head. The sun fully illuminated the room faces West and forced him to blink a bit. He could see that a vague and massive form through his field of vision, on the ground. No need for him to seek to learn more, the form, the speed, the speed not referred the visitor who was soon to enter the room.
The only surprise in this regard was not seen Mark sooner. He had no doubt stayed to calm Greg for a moment.
Practically deserted, the school offered no sound, if not a sound of steps approaching more and more. Quickly, the door handle turned and the door opened. Mark made his entry slowly, calmly. His eyes almost closed, expressionless, but solid, face the rott turned his body to accompany the movement of closing the door close gently, quietly almost found herself.
« This is going to hurt. »
Leonid had closed his eyes on this simple mental observation. When he opened them, Mark was always near the door, eyes planted on the lion who felt a huge ball formed in his stomach.
His breathing was still quiet and slow. There was no indication that the rott was about to explode but yet, Leonid was certain this would happen. Walking, slow and quiet towards him made that accentuate this feeling of fear and impending danger. Leonid didn't move however.
On the one hand, this would have been nothing, and on the other hand, he deserved it.
Standing in front of the office of his colleague, Mark, always calm and quiet, laid his hand on the right side of the desk and stalled his fingers under the edge before lifting the furniture with a quick sharp, throwing it violently against the left wall. Everything there was on top, sheets, folders, a lamp, pens and a laptop, hit the wall with a loud crash before falling back on the ground.
The gesture was so abrupt that Leonid did not have time to react. He began to protest when a broad and firm hand seized him by the throat, tore to his chair, ruled out a violent kick on the right, until the lion felt his body literally lifted off the ground and pressed against the back wall. Hand enclosed his throat strongly and gravity posed all his weight on his windpipe. Surprised and feeling in danger, Leonid tried to break away from the embrace, using his hands remained free, trying in vain to keep the fingers away in order to be able to breathe again.
« Argh...»
The pain felt by the lion was strong, augmented by his inability to breathe. Opening eyes again and with a frantic look, Leonid discovered with intense fear that Mark's face had not changed, the latter being always neutral.
His gaze, on the other hand, showed his determination. Leonid realized with horror that Mark wasn't kidding. He knew he was choking him for good, and he didn't release his grasp.
« Nooo... »
A breath. There wasn't more than a breath of air in the lungs of the lion unable to speak, the trachea compressed. He felt that the rott had just more than a slight effort to break his throat and kill him. Leonid, too busy to find a way out, had no time to fear for his life. The lion felt so taking relax completely and he felt to the ground, sitting on his butt, back to the wall. Instinctively, he rubbed his throat to make sure to have recovered his ability to breathe. Mark was still standing in front of him, a dry and determined look in his eyes brought on the lion.
Leonid had sometimes seen Mark upset, but this was beyond everything. For the first time he saw him really angry. And this terrified him now that he could breathe and think normally.
« Why did you removed Greg's name ? »
Finally a question. A chance to talk in a civilized fashion. The tone was dry, cold. Leonid, who could move normally, preferred to sit, out of caution.
« I'm sorry, Mark, I could not do otherwise. »
Mark ignored the answer.
« Get him back on the list. »
Leonid bowed his head. He spoke gently, massaging his throat still somewhat sore, this making more and more realize that Mark was really tight. For him to hurt, voluntarily. The lion then realized that he discovered a side of his friend he did not like at all. Mark did not usually use strength for personal profit. But he was obviously capable. A small voice in his mind told him that Mark would be able to kill if the need be. Leonid saw that he could not deceive Mark. He had no intention, but this allowed him to be more frank with his colleague.
« I already tried, Mark. The School Board opposes. There is nothing I can do, you have to believe me ! »
Mark tried to keep his dark gaze on the lion but he did not succeed. His eyes get wet and he felt to his knees in the face of the wounded man, hands on his shoulders, unable longer to contain himself, Mark felt into tears, face buried in the lion's chest.
His long sobs surprised Leonid who found nothing else to do but to embrace the rott with his arms. His intense fear was evacuated by his sadness.
« I'm sorry, Leonid... I'm so sorry... »
The sobs of Mark redoubled. Leonid felt more now that pity for the repenting giant.
« I know you are... »
Leonid closed his arms even more, unable also to contain his tears.
« I know you are. »
--
Sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, facing the desk back in place, Mark stared at the floor, elbows on knees, hands clasped in a silent prayer for himself. Before him, Leonid finished picking up his things on the ground and to distribute the best he could on his now wobbly desk, looking from time to time the compassionate way at the rott.
« To resign would be useless, don't think about it. »
Mark raised his head, the interrogative gaze.
« To be honest, I understand some of the pleas of the direction. I'm not saying I approve, but I understand them.
- What do you mean ? »
The voice of Mark was interrogative, without any sign of aggressiveness in him. Leonid revised his judgment. Mark would be able to seriously injure someone, Yes. To kill him, Yes. But then he would not to stand it. He wasn't a cold monster and calculator being. Just a strong man, able to make serious mistakes. In response, Leonid took a sheet and gave it to Mark who examined it. It was the commitment list for the recruitment of volunteers. Mark pouted.
« Where is the real one ? »
Leonid smiled. Mark was far from being a fool.
« The school board took care of it. Tearing it up.
They are stupid. The names are written with the same pen and same handwriting. Nobody will be fooled.
I know. I guess they're going to think about and make a more suitable one. Officially, Greg is not excluded. He didn't enlist again, that's all. »
Mark put a hand to his eyes to wipe the remnants of his tears.
« Why ? »
Leonid shook his head. Mark was a man smart but sometimes naïve.
« You were too optimistic. Did you really thought that a bunch of young teens virilized at the highest point by their families would accept an openly gay player among them like this ? Being their captain ? »
Inadvertently, Leonid had spoken with a tone full of reproach. Mark didn't took the offense, rising just his eyes.
« I was concerned that something like this could happen. I thought, I was hoping you would have taken into account and that you've warned Greg. »
Mark lowered his head.
« I... I didn't thought about that.
Or you didn't wanted to think about it.
Perhaps. »
Leonid showed a tired and sad smile.
« It's my fault too. I should had warn Greg. But I understood that too late. Just as I learned at the last moment the team's blackmail. »
Mark clenched his teeth.
« Those dirty little assholes... »
Leonid agreed.
« They have the best hand. If Greg is on the team, they'll leave in a massive way, and I won't have enough players to form a team. You know what will happen then. »
Mark nodded.
« They will be forced to forfeit the season. And the football team is the only one to make money in high school. It would put other teams at risk. »
Leonid had nothing further to add on this plan.
« Their vote was almost unanimous. Greg can not stay in the team, there is no support or almost. The school board has no choice. »
Mark remained silent, trying to collect his thoughts.
« To put my resignation on the scale would have changed nothing, I believe, even if I wanted to do so. »
Mark shook his head.
« No, Leonid. I can't ask you this.
- This is great, I did not intend to do. The battle is lost in advance, better then to keep our strength for the next round. »
Mark agreed.
« There's still hope, you think ? »
Leonid shook his head.
« It is the worst in this story. I contacted the other high schools in the area. Their teams are complete. »
Mark remained in his chair, a bitter smile on his lips.
« I bet that even if they are missing 10 players, their teams will be always full for Greg. »
Leonid could not agree more, opening his laptop. To his great satisfaction, the laptop was intact and turned on easily.
« I believe also. But that's not all. »
Mark knew that the flood of bad news was not dried up yet. His spirit was so broken that nothing could change this. It did not mattered. For the moment, Mark thought only to his son, whom he had left in tears, collapsed on his bed. Even Francis could not comfort him.
« When Greg joined the team last year, I immediately saw his potential and I put him in the Fullback position. He has more than met my expectations. I did then what did each worthy coach would do, I opened to him a profile on the universities' recruitment websites. In a few weeks, he has attracted the attention of more than a dozen recruiters all around the country. »
Leonid had opened its browser and connected it. He turned the computer so that Mark could see the screen.
« Returning from vacation, I checked the mails. On the 27 recruiters interested initially, 24 have cancelled their follow-up, without explanation. »
Mark closed his eyes with vexation. He understood why there had been so many withdrawals.
« And I am sure that the last three will do it soon. »