[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Chapter 14: Lance

I put the phone down: no answer, again. I glanced at the clock, noting that Kevin was over an hour late. I knew it only took twenty minutes, tops, to get to my house, and that figured in heavy holiday traffic. If I’d had a car, I would have tried to find him. As it was, I had to play the waiting game.

His phone call had surprised me, but I was glad that he wanted to come over and chill for the day. Truth is, while I didn’t want to go with Stacy and company, I also didn’t relish the idea of being alone. He’d sounded a bit lonely on the phone… I understood that one for sure. It’d be good to catch up, at the very least. We had been on the same baseball team in high school for two years, until he graduated; we saw each other over at Harry’s, occasionally, but that was it. Yeah, it would be good to see him for more than a few minutes at a time.

I hoped he didn’t mind a couple of frozen turkey dinners; until he called, I’d planned on nothing more than peanut butter and jelly for dinner. He was pretty easygoing; I just hoped he wasn’t disappointed with my humble offering. He was probably used to real fancy stuff, and we did the Hamburger Helper thing like twice a week. One thing I will say about Kevin, though… he has money, but he’s no snob.

I peered out the window once again, but there was still no sign. I put on my jacket and decided to wait outside; I left the window open so I could hear the phone if it rang, then went to sit on the steps. It was a fairly nice day; maybe, after dinner, he’d want to toss a ball around for a while. I bet he was still in great shape; he’d been one of the best pitchers I’d ever seen. I was sure I had both my gloves somewhere in my closet.

I sat down on the steps, noting that they were due for a new coat of paint. The entire house could use some work, but if I brought it up, guess who would be elected to do the job. Mouth closed, Lance, you’ve got enough on your plate.

I’d been outside for maybe ten minutes, trying to keep myself distracted from worrying, when I heard a car coming down the street. It caught my attention because, unlike most of the traffic in the neighborhood, it was approaching very slowly. I stood up the second I saw the dark green color of the car through the neighbor’s fence… it had to be Kevin. I realized he must have been going slowly because he was unsure of the house number. With a grin, I recognized his car; sure enough, he turned into the drive.

But something was wrong. I could tell it right away, because he only got halfway up the driveway before the car lurched to a halt. When the car continued to run, I sprang off the step, every alarm going off in my head. I ran the short distance, but froze when I got close enough to see inside.

It was Kevin, all right, but he was ghostly white… except for the crimson that covered the left side of his face, and the nasty purple bruises that decorated the rest. My heart caught in my throat as I watched his glazed eyes lose their focus just before he fell back. I tried the door, but it was locked. I banged on the window, close to panic; somehow he came around enough to hit the auto locks. I yanked open the door and, to my shock, Kevin tumbled out onto the gravel before I could catch him.

I was afraid to touch him, but I didn’t have a choice. I swallowed my fear and helped him to sit up; he nearly passed out on me, but I kept calling his name every time his eyes shut. He managed to stay awake, and I knew I had to get him inside, and fast.

He probably didn’t understand a word I said, but he did finally get to his feet, leaning heavily on me. He’s a big guy, over six foot tall, probably outweighs me by forty pounds. But that didn’t matter… nothing mattered but getting him inside where I could figure out how bad he was hurt and what to do about it.

I nearly lost him halfway to the door; he swayed wildly, and if I hadn’t been gripping him so damned hard, he would have ended up on the ground. Again. And the last thing he needed was one more injury.

We made it to the steps, and I think I ended up dragging him inside the house. He sure wasn’t helping any, and I could only hope that I could get him to the couch before he went all the way out. He seemed steady for a second, and I turned to shut the door, one hand still on his arm. When I turned back, his emerald green eyes were looking at me from a terrible distance. He spoke, which surprised me.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Lance,” he said, right before his knees went out from under him. He was completely out of it by the time he made it to the floor.

I had to drag him to the couch, but then I realized that there was no way to get him up there. Instead, I ran to my bedroom and brought back a couple of pillows and a blanket. I propped up his head and tried to calm my thoughts.

My God, there was such a horrendous amount of damage… and that was just from what I could see outside of his clothes. I knew there was more. My mind blanked at the enormity of the pain he must have suffered… and I dared not speculate the source. I needed to tend to his injuries first, then think about the other stuff later.

I nearly cried when I saw the bruises that, literally, covered his body. I guess I went on automatic mode, because that was the only way to deal with the situation. From the looks of it, he had at least one broken rib… it moved wrongly under my touch, but since he was breathing okay, I knew it wasn’t life threatening.

It took me a long time to clean up the cuts and assess the damage. Whoever had done this to him… and it was an obvious beating… had been very, very angry. There was an actual shoe mark below his ribcage, a nasty crescent shaped purple imprint. I was just finishing bandaging his ribs when he began to stir.

I would have preferred him to be unconscious than awake, looking at me through all that pain. I put a hand on his shoulder… one of the few places that didn’t show damage… and waited.

“Lance,” he breathed at last.

“Kev, what happened?” I said, trying to keep the anguish out of my voice. “Who did this? Was it one of the Alley Cats?” I knew that, as Harry and Brian’s cousin, it would have been enough of an excuse for that bunch of trouble.

He looked up at me and I wondered if he understood the question, because he smiled. Not his usual easygoing smile, though… this one was cold and humorless.

“A little… closer to home,” he said, wincing at the pain.

The words shocked me; then, I understood. “Your… father?”

“He’s not my f-father any more,” he said in a voice I could barely hear. Then, just that fast, he was out again.

I sat there, stunned. His father? Brian and Harry’s uncle? How could a father do that to his son? To his own flesh and blood? I swallowed against the lump in my throat. My parents had loved me when they were still alive… they’d never even given us spankings as kids. I couldn’t imagine how he felt.

I called a neighbor a couple of houses down who was a paramedic; luckily he was home, and offered to come right away. I’d done some babysitting for his kids in the past, free of charge when they’d gone through some tough times. He was more than glad to repay some favors.

Marty didn’t stay long. He saw that I’d done the usual stuff, then re-wrapped the ribs. He advised me to get Kevin in for some x-rays to be sure, and to have him call the cops to press assault charges once he was in his right mind. He told me to watch for signs of concussion, since that head wound was kind of nasty, and tried to convince me to take him to the hospital. I thanked him, said I’d monitor Kevin closely, and sent him back to his Thanksgiving celebration. I knew there was no way I could get Kevin to the hospital… and it’s not something I thought he would want, anyway. As long as nothing got worse, he’d be better off where he was.

I also knew that the assault charges would never get filed. I’d seen similar things way too many times. But damn… Kevin. I still couldn’t believe it. I’d always envied him, his easy life and nice home. But that had all changed now. I might not have had the material things he was used to… but at least I was loved by my family. I realized that I was the wealthier of the two of us.

He slept most of the afternoon, finally getting up around four. This time, he was much more coherent, and he roughly narrated the events that had brought him to my door. I helped him to my room, settled him down, then went to get some Tylenol and a bit of leftover soup. He didn’t eat much, but was grateful for the pain relievers. I spent a little time reassuring him that he was safe, he was welcome, and that I would be there when he woke up. He fell asleep fairly fast, and once he was out, I went to his car and retrieved his things. It didn’t seem like much, but it was all I could do for him.

I spent the rest of the day in my room, watching over him and thinking. He woke a few times, disoriented, but always glad I was there. It made me feel good that I could help, at least that much.

When Stacey and company arrived home that night, I greeted her with a huge hug. Her husband and the boys, too. I didn’t care about their surprised reactions.

Stacey agreed to let Kevin stay for however long it took; I promised her that I’d take care of everything. That night, I kept vigil over Kevin’s battered body, wondering how much had changed for him. I’d get the full story in the morning, or whenever he was able to tell it… I wouldn’t press. I would just be there in whatever way I could.