Date: Sun, 03 Jul 2005 13:52:24 -0400
From: Sequoyah <sequoyah@charter.net>
Subject: Moon Watching 18 and 19

MOON WATCHING

Chapter XVIII

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Chapter XVII

Joe stepped to one side to let the nurse by, then walked over to my
bed. The other officer stepped just inside the door and stopped.

"How ya' doin', Sport?" Joe asked as he tousled my hair.

"Ok, I guess, Joe. Actually, I don't know. Mom and Dad said I'd probably be
released this afternoon and the nurse said the same thing. No one will tell
me anything about Derrick. Well, the nurse said he was in intensive care,
but that's all. Do you know anything?"

"Care if I sit down?" Joe asked.

"Sorry, forgot my manners. Officer, you grab the other chair. Take a load
off your feet." I said when I noticed the other officer was still standing
just inside the door.

"Guess I have forgotten mine as well," Joe said. "Tom, this is Officer
Hightower."

"Officer," I said extending my hand, "what brings you to my sickbed?"

"Officer Hightower is a special investigator for the department. We had a
deck collapse over on Conley this week and several people were hurt. A
building inspector got a royal ass chewing because an investigation
revealed the deck was not up to code."

"Everyone assumed the same was probably true in your case as well since the
steps and landing are new. As soon as the EMS reported the accident, the
chief inspector rushed to the scene and started a very close inspection of
the stairs and landing. He called an Atlanta inspector to go over his work
and both reached the same conclusion.  They were surprised, but everything
was as it should be. Of course, it would have been good if the railing had
been stronger, but it was strong enough to meet code and withstand ordinary
use. Both inspectors felt Derrick was thrown against with considerable
force."

"Further, there was absolutely not reason for your fall that anyone could
see. Someone suggested you and Derrick were fighting and pushed each other
causing your falls. Sounded reasonable, but I told the chief I know you two
well enough to bet my pension on that not being true. I thought you might
have been doing something else and fallen off the landing"--Joe looked at
me and winked--"but in that case, both would have fallen the same way."

"Since I know you two, the Chief loaned me to Officer Hightower and we went
over first thing this morning and looked over the scene of the accident
again. Officer Hightower, tell Tom what we found."

"Tom, are you sure you can remember nothing?"

"I remember Derrick and I going up the steps. We were saying good night
when the porch light came on blinding me, and that's it. I remember nothing
after that."

"I wish you remembered more," Officer Hightower said. "I looked at the
stairs and landing and I don't see how the accident happened. Something is
missing, but I don't know what." While Officer Hightower was speaking, he
was paged and took off his shoulder mike and said, "Hightower. I'm at the
hospital. Give me a minute," he said as he stepped in the hall.

"Tom, you and Derrick were saying goodnight when the porch light came on?"

"Yes."

"Exactly HOW were you saying goodnight? As if I didn't know."

"Probably exactly as you would think. He was leaning against the landing
rail and I was kinda leaning on him, Derrick had just said something and I
started kissing him and the light came on, then nothing."

Officer Hightower stepped back in the room and said, "Tom, you sure you're
not holding back something?"

"Yes, sir, I'm sure." I replied.

"That was the Chief, Joe. Someone called the station and said we should
take a real serious look into the accident in which those two boys were
hurt. Seems the caller said it was not an accident and a stepfather was
involved. Tom, help us out here."

"Guys, believe me, I wish I could. If a stepfather is involved, it has to
be the Major. I know he is in town--he was at the opening game
yesterday. He asked about taking me and Derrick out to dinner, but we told
him we'd take a rain check since we were tired after a hard game. He said
he'd see us tomorrow and left. Well, before he left, he told Derrick they
were staying at the downtown Marriott and asked him to call about when they
could get together with him today. 'It's Saturday,' he said, and 'Your mom
and I want to take you shopping.' That's all I know."

"Well, we can check on that. I just can't believe you and Derrick were
carrying on hot enough to knock each other off the landing."

"Joe," I practically yelled. I knew I was turning bright red and also knew
Joe was not the only officer in the room.

"Never mind Hightower," Joe laughed. "He's straight, but gay friendly Trey
says."

"Yeah," Officer Hightower said, "I'm not gay, but I know enough to know you
guys would have killed each other had your making out done the damage to
that landing. And from what Joe tells me, I don't think Derrick shoved you
down the stairs."

When Officer Hightower said that, I saw an image flash across my mind--like
a movie clip behind my eyes. "I don't know who or what or how," I said,
"but I was shoved. Someone shoved me and it wasn't Derrick."

"Maybe you're beginning to remember," Joe said. "I sure hope so. Well,
we've got to go. I'll give you a call at home tonight to see how you are
doing and if you remember more."

After the two were gone I could kick myself. I had asked about Derrick and
neither had answered my question. Not only that, but they gave no
indication they were going to or had questioned him.

A doctor came in right after lunch, introduced himself and after checking a
few things said, "I see no reason you can't go on home. If you get to
feeling dizzy, faint, start seeing double, anything really weird, give the
hospital a call. You had a pretty severe knock on the head, but you seem
ok. Your scalp wound was not serious, oh, it bled like mad, they always do,
but a few stitches took care of that. You'll need to come back in a week to
get it checked and the stitches out or go to your family doctor. Any
questions?"

"Not about me," I answered, "but no one will tell me anything about Derrick
who was hurt in the same accident."

"You are friends?"

"Best friends. Very best friends."

"Son, all I can tell you is that he is in ICU in very critical
condition. You both were unconscious when you came in and Dr. Ellis took
care of him. You might walk up and see him before you leave."

"Thanks, Doctor."

Mom and Dad came as the doctor was leaving and he told them the same things
he had told me. "I'll have the nurse bring instructions for his care. One
of you can help him get dressed and the other might want to go downstairs
and get him checked out."

Dad went downstairs and Mom said she'd help me get dressed. I told her I
didn't need any help, but found out I might not have needed help, but it
was welcomed. I was so sore having someone help get me dressed saved a lot
of pain.

When I was dressed I said, "Mom, I want to see Derrick."

"I hope you can," she replied. "His mother and stepfather were most
unpleasant when your dad and I asked about him."

We left the room and headed to the elevators. I looked at the directory and
saw ICU was on floor seven. When we reached the ICU, Derrick's mother and
stepfather were sitting in the waiting room. I walked in and asked, "How is
Derrick?"

Derrick's mother started crying and the Major jumped up, got right in my
face and said, "You god damn honkie faggot, he would have been all right if
you had kept your hands off him. How he is is none of your fucking business
and you better not show up here again. Now get your faggot ass out of
here!"

I looked around the Major at Derrick's mother and asked, "Ms. Culpepper,
how's..."

"Can't you hear, boy? Nobody has anything to say to you and nobody wants
you around. Now leave!" Derrick's mom said through clinched teeth.

Mom put her arm around my shoulders and led me away.

When I got home, I dialed Gram's number, hoping she was alone. She was.

"Grams, it's Tom," I said after bracing myself for another tirade.

Grams started crying softly, then said, "I'm sorry, Tom. I'm having a hard
time keeping it together."

"Me to," I said. "Grams, I tried to see Derrick or at least find out
something. The Major and Derrick's mom were ready to throw me out of the
hospital. They were very nasty to Mom and Dad."

"I know. I guess it's up to me to tell you what we know, what we have been
told. When Derrick fell, he landed on the back of his neck. Tom, his neck
snapped. There is very little hope that he will live..."

I dropped the phone and shouted, "NO! NO! Not Derrick!"

Mom and Dad came running into the room, Mom grabbing me and Dad picking up
the phone.

I was screaming, crying, flailing about. Mom finally got me calmed down a
bit and by the time she had, my head was pounding, I was seeing flashes of
light before my eyes and then everything went black.

When I regained consciousness, I was in my bed. Mom was placing cool cloths
on my forehead. As soon as she was sure I was awake, she said, "Tom, your
dad talked with Grams. Honey, she is really hurting. Tom, Derrick may live
as a vegetable, that's the best that can be hoped for, if that's good. His
mother and stepfather are barring anyone from seeing him, having anything
to do with him. They won't even let Grams see him. I know you'd like to see
him, say goodbye if that's to be, but I don't see how.

"Mom, Derrick is strong, tough. He'll pull through, wait and see."

Mom didn't argue with me and as soon as the words were out of my mouth I
remembered what she had said, "At best, he will live as a vegetable."

I started weeping silent tears, tears for what might have been, for my
beautiful Derrick, for Grams and for myself. I reached out to Mom and she
held me close, my head on her shoulder, until I had cried myself to
sleep--escaping what I could not face.

When I woke up, I imagined I heard Grams' voice. I got up, put on my robe
and walked downstairs to the living room. When I got there I saw Grams
sitting, talking with Mom and Dad. Dad looked up and said, "Tom, good. You
need to be in on this."

When I was seated, Dad said, "Tom, Grams has just been told Derrick is
brain dead. Since she is his legal guardian and has power of attorney for
his medical care, she has the final say in what is done. The Major and
Mrs. Culpepper are challenging her on the matter, but she wanted to talk
with people who loved Derrick as she did and not as a way to massage their
own ego."

"The situation is this. Derrick is brain dead. That will not change. He is,
presently, on life support. He is an organ donor and the longer he is on
life support, the less chance his organs can be used. He has to be checked
three times, twelve hours apart by three doctors--at least that's what the
doctor told Grams he would do--then the machines can be turned off. Grams
wants you to have a say in what's done. Now I'm calling a lawyer for
Grams," Dad concluded.

"Then there is no hope, none at all?"

"None," Grams said. "I was worried about his living as a vegetable. I hoped
and prayed that would not happen. Even if it has to be this way, better he
die than to live like that."

I nodded agreement. "Grams, I do want to say goodbye. I have to say
goodbye. I have to see him one last time."

"Me too," Grams said.

"You haven't seen him?" I asked, surprised.

"No, when I tried, that bitch my son married and her tin horn soldier had
me thrown out of the hospital. He was shouting, 'If you had been worth a
damn, you'd kept him away from that honkie faggot.' Tom, I didn't want to
cause a scene so I came home and called the hospital and reminded them I
was Derrick's guardian and all reports were to be made to me. I decided I
would save my bullets for one great battle and that battle would include
making sure you saw my baby before we let him go."

"Thanks, Grams," I said.

She hugged me and said, "Tom, I didn't understand your love for each
other. I guess it was unnatural, but you loved him with all your heart and
he loved you the same. Don't see how that can be bad." Clearly she had
known the true nature of our relationship.

While we were talking, Dad had been on the phone. At one point I hear our
fax machine start up. Grams and I had nothing else to say, I guess, so we
just sat quietly, lost in our own thoughts.

It was fifteen or twenty minutes before Dad came back. When he did, he
said, "Grams, Barry Smith is our lawyer and I asked him about the
situation. I faxed him the agreement giving your guardianship and power of
attorney in regard to Derrick's medical treatment. He is of the opinion
that if the matter gets into court, the agreement will be declared
invalid. However, he does think he can get an injunction to, in effect,
recognize your guardianship until it can be tried in court."

"We know that Derrick will be declared dead"--I couldn't completely choke
back a sob, neither could Grams--"in twelve to eighteen hours. Since you
and Tom just want to say goodbye to Derrick, right?--" we both nodded--
"then why not ask Barry to hold off filing until in the morning? That way,
you will get to say your goodbye's before a challenge can be lodged against
the injunction."

"Dad, there's a problem. I think the Major will physically block my seeing
Derrick. I'm sure he will."

"Derrick talked a lot about a police officer. Joe? Yeah, Joe. I think he
might handle the Major for us," Grams said. "I need to talk with him
anyway."

Dad called Mr. Smith back and told him to go ahead as they had
discussed. Grams asked him to take her home after asking if he could pick
her up when we were going to see Derrick. Dad assured her he would.

Grams hugged me and said, "It's hard to lose someone you love. I know."

I wasn't feeling very well, I mean, I wasn't sick, just tired, confused and
all I wanted to do was sleep. I knew it was my way of avoiding
unpleasantness--I had done it since I was very young--but why should I stay
awake when all I could do was suffer?

Mom finally said it was ok for me to go to sleep so I went upstairs and
crawled in bed. Derrick had stayed with me two nights ago and we had to
change the sheets in the middle of the night. That happened often enough
until a part of my closet became a linen closet. Mom said since I was using
them, I could wash them and keep them myself.

When I crawled into bed, I was overcome with sorrow. The scent of Derrick,
my love, my life, was still in the sheets. I started weeping again and
cried until I thought I'd run out of tears, then cried some more. I finally
cried myself to sleep.

I don't know how long I had been asleep when I woke up. Joe was sitting by
my bed and he asked, "Tom, can't you remember some more of what happened?
It's all very strange, somethings not right, but that's all I can say about
it."

I closed my eyes, trying to force myself to remember. Suddenly I did
remember something. "Yes, I do remember," I answered. "I was leaning on
Derrick, kissing him and the porch light came on. Someone shouted or
screamed and the next thing I know, I was falling down the stairs and I
heard something break, I guess the landing rail. Then there was blackness."

When I opened my eyes, Joe was gone. "He's going to do something about
Derrick being hurt," I told myself. I could remember no more and went back
to sleep.

When I woke up again, it was 7:30 and beginning to get dark. I went
downstairs and found Mom and Dad sitting in the den, watching the news.

"Have a good nap?" Mom asked.

"Yes. And it helped me remember. I was glad I could help Joe out."

"Help Joe?" Dad asked, puzzled.

"Yeah. I told him some more. I remembered some more."

"You told him when?" Dad asked.

"Couple, three hours ago. You know, when he was here."

"Tom, Joe hasn't been here since this morning. You must have been
dreaming."

"He was here sitting by my bed. I saw him."

"Son, you were dreaming. Your mom and I have been right here and Joe hasn't
been around. Sorry. But you did remember something else?"

"Yeah. You sure Joe wasn't here?"

"We're sure," Mom said. "But if you think you have remembered more, give
him a call."

I called Joe and when I asked him if he had been at our house, he said he
hadn't. "But I had a strong feeling that I needed to come by," he said. "I
thought you had more to tell me."

"I do, can you come over?"

"Sure. I'm in the middle of a solitary supper. As soon as I finish, I'll be
right over.

I felt exhausted again and went on upstairs and crawled back in bed.

I was about half asleep when I heard Joe downstairs. I was so slow, I heard
Joe bounding up the stairs as I got my robe on.

"We can talk here if you like," Joe said, and I nodded. I sat in my desk
chair and gave Joe the overstuffed chair I loved and Mom hated.

"Joe, I think I remembered something more," I said and then told him about
what I had dreamed.

"You sure you weren't just dreaming," he asked.

"I'm sure I was dreaming," I answered. "But not JUST dreaming; I know
that's what happened. I can't seem to remember the voice, just the
shouting. I never saw whoever it was who came out on that porch, but
whoever it was, was responsible for my falling down the steps and for
Derrick's crashing thorough that rail. I know it."

"Makes sense," Joe said. "You know who it was too, don't you?"

"I am sure it was the Major. I am positive, but could I swear to that? No,
I couldn't. I never saw him and I can't remember the voice. But who else
could it have been?"

"Was he even at Ms. Murphy's? You said earlier he was staying at the
Marriott downtown."

"That's what he had told Derrick, but who else would have been at Grams?
Who else knew about Derrick and me? Who else would have screamed and called
me a honkie faggot?"

"Someone called you a honkie faggot?" Joe asked.

"Did I say that?" I asked and Joe nodded. "Hate to say it Joe, but that's
what the Major called me today when I went up to ICU. I may well have
gotten that confused with whatever was said last night. I don't know."

"No way to check that, I can think of," Joe said. "But I can check to see
if the Major was at Grams' place."

I was sure if the Major had been at Grams, he was responsible for his
stepson's death. I was sure of it.

While we were talking, Dad came to my room and when we finished, he told
Joe about the injunction Grams was seeking and asked about him being
present when she and I went to say goodbye to Derrick.

"I'll be there and I'll make sure at least one other officer is there. Even
if the Major had nothing to do with Derrick's death, he is perfectly
capable of causing real trouble from what I have heard."

Joe talked awhile longer and left, saying he was going to see Grams.

Mom brought me something to eat and gave me a sleeping pill to take, which
I did, and was soon asleep.







MOON WATCHING

Chapter XIX

I slept without dreaming, I guess because of the drug I had taken.  When I
was but half awake, I smiled as I recognized Derrick's scent and reached
out for him. He wasn't beside me and for a few seconds I was confused, then
reality came crashing in. Derrick was brain dead and I would never again
feel his hard, warm body against mine. Suddenly I was overcome by grief.

It took several minutes for me to get myself together. When I had, almost,
I got up and did the bathroom things--including showering and shaving--and
got dressed.

When I got downstairs, Mom and Dad were sitting at the dining room table
with Joe. "Morning," I said, sounding as groggy as I felt, I'm sure. I went
to the kitchen and fixed a cup of tea and came back and sat down beside
Joe. "Anything new?" I asked him.

"Not really," Joe replied. "Grams is sure she knows what happened, but as
she says, no way to prove anything. She knows the Major heard you and
Derrick on the landing. She's not sure whether the Major turned on the
light before opening the door or whether he opened the door, saw the two of
you and then switched on the light."

"Anyway, he opened the door and turned on the light in some sequence.
Grams says she does know this, when he opened the door, he lost it and
started shouting. The next thing she knew, she heard the railing break and
Derrick scream. She said the Major stuck his head back in the door and
said, 'Call 911. He has pushed Derrick through the railing--meaning you of
course.' So you see, there's the Major's word against hers and most of what
she knows proves nothing since she didn't see what went on outside. In
fact, the only things she can actually testify to pretty much confirms what
the Major has said. She says she knows you didn't shove Derrick, but can't
testify that you absolutely did not."

"Ms. Culpepper?"

"She backs everything the Major says including things she couldn't know
since she, like Grams, was inside."

We were still sitting at the table talking when the phone rang. Dad
answered it and when he came back said, "That was Barry Smith. He got the
restraining order, but said he was sure the it wouldn't hold up if
tested. He suggested you get to the hospital and say your goodbyes before
the Culpeppers can challenge it. He sent someone to take Grams over
already."

"Grams has given permission for the machines to be turned off immediately
after you have seen Derrick. Barry said he understood Ms. Culpepper had
agreed, but she and the Major were fit to be tied about your seeing Derrick
and threatened to keep him "alive" so he can tell how you caused his
death. Of course, that's nonsense, but it has upset Grams no end. She
understands it's in retaliation for her absolute insistence you have a
chance to say goodbye to Derrick before he is taken off life support."

"Tom, in case you haven't noticed, the Culpeppers, male and female, are
very nasty people," Joe said. "I'll put nothing past them."

I was silent, knowing I didn't have to respond to what we all knew. "I'm
ready as I'm going to be," I said and stood.

"Tom, your dad and I will go with you," Mom said.

"Mom, I rather you didn't. I want to say goodbye to Derrick and then go to
the river."

"You sure that's wise?" Dad asked.

"No, I'm not sure of anything right now, but that's what I want to do."

"Very well," Dad said, "but Joe will be there and if he thinks it is unsafe
for you to be driving, you will listen to him. Promise?"

"Promise."

"He won't drive if I think he shouldn't," Joe said. "Officer Hightower will
also join us at the hospital to make sure the Culpeppers don't start
something."

Joe rode with me to the hospital. I was so glad he understood and didn't
try to make conversation. When we arrived outside the ICU we were joined by
Officer Hightower.

"Mrs. Murphy is with Derrick now," he said. "I escorted her past the Major
and Mrs. Culpepper who accosted her in the downstairs lobby. They were
demanding she leave instructions that Tom was not to be admitted. She told
them where they could go, called the Major a murderer and swore she'd see
him in jail if there was any way."

"Tom, Officer Hightower and I will wait here," Joe said.  We'll drive you
home or take you wherever you want to go afterwards."

"Thanks, but when I leave I am going to a place where Derrick and I spent
some wonderful times together. I'll be all right. Just keep the Culpeppers
off my back.

"That I promise," Joe said.

It was two or three minutes before Grams came out of the ICU. She didn't
speak, just embraced and held me for a long time, then kissed me on the
cheek and walked away.

I took a deep breath and pushed the ICU bell. A nurse opened the door and I
said, "I'm Tom McCarter. I'm here to say goodbye to Derrick."

The nurse took my hand and led me to Derrick's bedside. She clasped my
shoulder then turned, I thought to leave, but she only took a few steps and
stopped. I guess she wanted to make sure I didn't pass out or something.

I gave her a weak smile and turned to look at Derrick. I wasn't prepared,
I'll admit, for what I saw, but even as he was, Derrick was beautiful: skin
the color of warm chocolate, long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, his
well-developed, well-defined chest rising and falling as the respirator
pumped air into his lungs. But his beautiful body was violated by wires and
tubes attaching him to life support machines and monitors.

I looked at him and realized my time to tell Derrick goodbye was
limited. It had, after all, taken an act of the court--literally--to get
permission for me to see Derrick one last time. Joe told me Barry Smith
said the judge had given me only fifteen minutes, but that was more than
enough.

I stood, choking back tears and when I could stand it no longer, leaned
over and kissed Derrick on the forehead, turned and walked away, not
looking back.

"As beautiful as the shell is. It is not Derrick. Derrick is gone. He was
gone seconds after he fell," I told myself. I think I might have almost
convinced myself it wasn't true, but when I saw that empty shell which had
been Derrick I knew my love, my life was no more.

When I reached the lobby of the hospital, I saw Joe and Officer Hightower
standing with the Culpeppers. I avoided them, but still the Major managed
to call out, "Honkie faggot," before Joe grabbed his arm and twisted it
behind him.

I heard Joe say in a loud whisper, "You shut up or you'll end up in jail
with a broken arm! You are disturbing the peace--in a hospital--and it
seems to me you are resisting arrest!"

Outside, the day was bright and beautiful, though unusually cool and
windy. Thank God, it was bright, otherwise I'm not sure I could have stood
it.

I took my time driving to the river. At times tears would start and there
would be so many I could hardly see. Twice, I just pulled over and stopped
until I got control enough to not be driving blind.

I drove to the end of the river road, got out and, as I did, I took a
blanket and my jacket from the back seat. I pulled on the jacket and
started the hike along the river to the sand spit behind the bamboo. When
reached it, I spread the blanket on the sand and sat down, my mind a
blank. As I watched the river flow by, my thoughts drifted backward further
and further as I remembered events which brought me to this moment.

I must have watched the river for over an hour before I finally was
conscious enough to know I was cold and stiff. I looked at my watch and
realized that Derrick was, now, finally, at peace. Of course I was
devastated by what had happened, but only relieved that his body was
finally allowed to die and, I knew, give the possibility of life to several
other people who would be receiving his organs.

As I walked back to the car, I wondered what would happen next. Grams knew
what had happened, but she couldn't testify to what she had not seen. There
was no doubt in my mind that Derrick's mother would deny anything Grams
said. I guess I sort of resigned myself to knowing Derrick had been killed
and his murderer would go scot free.

When I got back to the house, Mom said Grams had called.  She had withstood
the Culpeppers and Derrick would be cremated.  A memorial service was
scheduled by the high school and that would be the only service. "She said
she suspected you would like to scatter his ashes and where and when was up
to you."

I called Grams and we talked for a long time. She told me she knew Derrick
and I were lovers. I was surprised she was so open about it. She told me
she had asked Derrick right after we had gotten back from North Carolina
last summer and he didn't deny or confirm it. "He loved you very, very
much, Tom. Some of us never know the love you two had in our long
lifetime."

Derrick had told me Grams gotten pregnant when she was fourteen by a white
man who, of course, denied it. She had raised Derrick's father by herself,
often barely getting food on the table. She never liked the woman he had
married, but never let that show. Then Derrick's dad was killed and she was
left all alone. Derrick saw her seldom after that, only when his mom wanted
him taken care of for one reason or another. "The last year has been
wonderful for me too," she said. I knew what she meant for Derrick
worshiped his grandmother.

I asked her what she knew about the accident. She said it was an accident,
but the Major had intended to hurt me, not Derrick, "I'm sure of that."
Joe had talked with her as had Barry Smith. Both said she could file
charges if she wanted to, but they thought nothing would come of them. She
said she had agreed, "I thought it would accomplish nothing. I just want
them back in Baltimore, away from me and people I love," she said.

The memorial service at the high school was scheduled for Monday at 1:00. I
had been given sleeping pills so I could sleep and the doctor had given Mom
tranquilizers for me to take before the service, but I refused. So far as I
was concerned, that would only put off grieving I needed to do. The service
was very nice and school was dismissed after it was over.

Keith and I had talked about where to scatter Derrick's ashes and had a
hard time deciding between North Carolina and the river. We finally decided
on the river and asked Joe and Trey to go with us. We asked Grams, but she
said she thought it should be the young ones who did it.

Thank God Monday was a beautiful day and after the service, the four of us
went to the river immediately afterward and scattered Derrick's ashes on
the water. It would be the last time I went to the river.

The next few weeks went very well, all things considered. I was even
surprised at myself, then mid-April, I fell apart. All I did was cry and
sleep. Needless to say, Mom and Dad were very concerned and I was hauled to
a couple different doctors, both of whom gave me drugs--which meant I slept
more and was dizzy when I cried.

I felt like I was in a deep, dark hole and there was no way out. When I
slept, I was tormented by dreams. When I wasn't asleep, I cried and felt
helpless. Forget school, forget baseball. I did.

After two weeks of the nightmare, I had decided I couldn't really handle
being alive when Derrick was dead, but I put on a cheerful face and
convinced my parents I was ok.

The beginning of the third week I was in the pits, I went to school after
checking the calendar and seeing both parents would be late getting home. I
left school at lunch and went home. I spent an hour writing a note telling
my parents how much I loved them and how my life was utterly meaningless
and painful beyond belief now that Derrick was gone. That done, I went to
the bathroom, emptied the bottle of sleeping pills into my hand, washed
them down and went to my room. I took Derrick's picture from my desk, lay
down on my bed and clutched the picture to my chest and slowly drifted into
sleep.

I woke up with Keith holding me over the john, jamming his finger down my
throat. I tried to fight him, but I was drugged and Keith was strong. After
the finger bit, he forced warm salt water down my throat and when I fought
him, he pried my mouth open and poured it in. I finally had to breathe and
when I did, ended up with salt water spraying from my nose and Keith was at
it again. When he had poured all the salt water in and on me, he jammed his
finger down my throat again.

He got the results he was after when I started heaving. The contents of my
stomach, which now included a great deal of salt water, came up with such a
rush that they coming out my nose as well as my mouth. Keith was forcing
more saltwater down my throat when paramedics came thundering up the
stairs.

"He's all yours," Keith said.

"Looks like you have things under control," one of them said, "but a good
stomach washing won't hurt. How'd you happen to find him?

"He's been in pretty bad shape for awhile--his best friend was
killed--three-four weeks ago--and when I discovered he had left school, I
was worried and came to check on him. I found him in his bed, obviously
drugged, then I found the empty pill bottle."

No need to go into the next two weeks. I was hospitalized and had daily
counseling. At the end of the first week, Keith brought my school
assignments so when I got out of the hospital at the end of the next, I
would not behind.

While I was in the hospital, Grams died of a heart attack. She had managed
to get to the phone and call 911, but was dead when the EMS team
arrived. My counselor told me a couple days before I was released. I knew
what had happened. "She died of a broken heart," I told the counselor.

Keith stuck to me like a leech and when I complained, he reminded me that
he was just paying me back for saving his life. "Tom, no one will ever
replace Derrick. No one has ever replaced LaTasha. No one can. But if you
hadn't find that gun, there would be no Janice in my life and Tom, I
wouldn't have missed Janice for the world. Somewhere, there is someone just
waiting for you as Janice was waiting for me."

Gradually I got back into baseball and school--not doing as well as before,
but not doing bad--badly.

It took Mom and Dad awhile to begin to relax and let me have some
slack. School was driving both of them batty and they both talked more and
more about retiring. They finally said they had in their years in and could
retire anytime, but would stick it out until I graduated.

The week following the end of school they had both attended a principals
meeting and came back discouraged, disheartened and disgusted. The long and
the short of it was there would be increased Mickey Mouse for the coming
year.

They had said for some time that when they retired, they would sell the
College Park house since it had too many stairs and get something smaller
and on one level for their retirement house. They talked more and more
about that and even went to check out houses Sunday afternoons if they had
seen something promising in the ads and they had nothing better to do.

One Sunday, when Keith and I came back from Stone Mountain, they asked me
what I had planned and I told them nothing. "Keith is going home to get
ready to go to Albany for a few days, so I'm free."

"Good, we'd like to talk a bit about your and our future," Dad said.

"Sounds serious," I said, sitting down in the den with them.

"Tom, your mother and I have had it with the increasing work load for
teachers and principals which has nothing to do with students. We spend
more time on disruptive students and their irresponsible parents, on PR and
testing than we do helping students achieve. We have been talking and we
are ready to hang it up. We could retire now, but hanging in there for six
more months will make a big difference in our pension, so we plan to retire
at the end of the first semester," Dad said.

"You know we need to get another house for our retirement," Mom
said. "You'll be with us one more year, then likely you will be away at
college and, as much as I hate to admit it, you'll probably not be at home
again. Still, and all, we'd like to hear what you think about where we
should start looking for a house. There's no rush, but if we know where, we
can be on the lookout for what we really want."

"I'm sure you'd like to stay in the metro area, near your friends," Dad
said.

"Dad, we are talking one semester, right? After that my friend--and Keith
is the only one who counts--will be headed off to college as well."

"But I'm sure you'd not like to change schools with only a semester to go,"
Mom said.

"Why not? What have I to hold me here? Mom, the only thing school, the
baseball team, this town holds for me are reminders of what I no longer
have."

"Then what are your thoughts?" she asked.

"What's wrong with the cabin in North Carolina--I mean other than what work
between now and next December can't fix?"

Both were surprised that I suggested North Carolina since they thought I
needed city life and had some attachment to East River and College Park. I
finally convinced them I did not and we started serious planning for a move
to the mountain cabin.

When Keith got back from Albany, we talked about the rest of the
summer. "I'm really not interested in baseball camp or any other camp this
year," I said. "I guess it's because I'm not interested in a whole lot of
anything after Derrick's death."

"I'm sure that's a part of it," Keith agreed, "but I'm not terrible
interested in such myself. Josh asked about my taking a job at the resort
where he's interning this summer--in Montana. I gave it some thought, but I
just couldn't get excited about it. Janice took an internship at a spa in
the Arizona mountains. Neither of us saw spending the money for me to fly
out, so I'm sitting here in College Park, with nothing to do and can think
of nothing I'd like to do."

"We're already talking like bored kids at the end of summer," I said.

"Yeah, well, there has to be something for us to do."

Keith arrived while I was fixing things for lunch. The past two summers,
Mom and Dad came home for lunch if I got it ready so they had time to get
home, eat and get back. I had lunch ready to set out when they arrived,
then poured two tall glasses of ice tea and Keith and I took them to our
screened porch where we flopped down on loungers.

Mom and Dad had both been to another principals meeting all morning and
when they came in, they were both really pissed about another meeting which
accomplished nothing except waste time. They had calmed down by the time I
got lunch for the four of us set out.

"So your morning was pretty bad," Keith said as he set ice before Mom and
Dad.

"We had a miserable morning," Mom said. "What about you guys?"

"Bored, I guess," Keith said. "I don't regret not going to some camp this
summer, but I wish I had something to do."

"Janice in Mississippi?" Dad asked.

"Arizona, at a fat farm," Keith replied.

"If you are willing to tough it out in the wilds of North Carolina, think I
might have a job for you. We have decided we'd make the mountain cabin our
retirement place and there's a lot of work to do.  I'd pay you starvation
wages to help get it ready for year round use."

"I hadn't thought about the cabin," I said. "Think Keith and I can get
started by ourselves?"

"Sure. Remember we looked over the place thinking we might winterize it? I
made a list and there a lot of work to be done before we get started with
that. Things cleaned out, taken out, etc. You two can go on ahead and get
started."

"Sounds good to me," Keith said. "North Carolina sounds real good to me."

"You don't expect us to work all the time do you, Dad?" I asked to make
sure.

"Of course not. Just keep track of your time and work as much or as little
as you like."

"You and Mom coming up next weekend?"

"I thought we would. Some things we'll need to get the professionals to do
and you guys being there would let that get started as well. We could do a
complete survey next weekend and get moving on some of the larger projects
the professionals will be doing."

After lunch, Keith and I started getting things together--clothes, CDs and
player, that sort of stuff. There was no TV and reception would be poor to
nil anyway, but we did take Keith's TV and DVD player. He had a collection
of movies--including some old classics--we packed. When we finished packing
his things, we did the same with mine.

We decided we might need his truck for supplies and debated taking it and
my car, but finally he said, "Tom, there is no reason to take both
vehicles," and he was right. We thought about going ahead and loading, but
decided his parents might have other plans for him and were waiting for
them to get home. Finally, he said, "I don't know what we are waiting
on. Both Mom and Dad talked about my getting bored and being underfoot. I
think they'll be delighted to get me out of the way."

"Why not call and ask?" That seemed very reasonable to me.

"I guess I could," Keith answered. "They have always been adamant about not
being called at work, but I guess one time won't matter."

Keith decided he'd call his mom rather than his dad. "Dad has a short
fuse--as you well know--and Mom may not like it, but she'll not go
ballistic."

I had always found Keith's relationship with his parents a bit strange, but
over the years had come to realize it was my relationship with my parents
which was more outside the usual.

Keith called his mom and she said she thought his going to North Carolina
was fine, but she'd check with his father and call him back.

It was a hour before she called back. She gave him all kinds of
instructions, warnings, cautions and stuff, but said she thought his
working was a good idea.

Since we had everything together, it didn't take long to get Keith's things
loaded and then we loaded mine. It was mid-afternoon by the time we had
everything on the truck and covered by a tarp. A last check was made to be
sure all was securely fastened down and we left College Park.

We stopped in Gainsville and used the money Mom had given me for
groceries. We got a block of dry ice for the cooler and piled in the frozen
stuff. We were back on the road by 4:00. We had the stereo cranked up and
were singing at the top of our lungs. Keith had gotten a heavy foot and
when I looked over and saw the speedometer sitting on ninety, suggested he
come in for a landing.

"This machine is so smooth running I didn't even notice my speed creeping
up," he said as he slowed down.

Less than five minutes later I said, "Guess you're glad you got this beast
under control."

Keith chuckled and said, "Indeed I do, my brother," when he, too, spied the
State Trooper parked on the side of the highway.

It was 6:30 when we reached the cabin and, of course, still light. We set
to work getting the house in operation--starting the water system, opening
windows to air out the place, that sort of thing.

That took less than half an hour and we thought about going for a swim, but
the temperature was already falling as evening approached.

Keith got the grill going while I made hamburger patties and then he
grilled the meat and I fixed a salad. I got the condiments, eating utensils
salad and all together. When the burgers were ready, Keith we sat at the
table on the porch and ate as we watched the sun sink behind a mountain.

We had used paper plates and cups so we only had the silver to wash and
things to put away after we had eaten. That done, we again sat on the
porch, listening to the night sounds.

I was thinking about the times I had been here at the cabin with Derrick
and was surprised that I was enjoying good memories without becoming too
sad. "Keith, do you ever think about LaTasha?" I asked.

"Less and less often these days," he answered. "Before the trip to
Mississippi, she was about all I ever thought about, but after that when I
do it's some nice memory. I guess when I was at her grave and she told me
to get on with my life, I did. I guess--I know--having Janice is another
reason, although I'm sure I am not as deeply in love with Janice as I was
LaTasha."

"But you are in love with Janice, right?"

"Not sure. I don't think so. I love Janice, but I don't think I am in love
with her. She's a great and good friend and I think we may fall in love,
but right now, both of us are not willing to take the next step."

"Keith, I think about Derrick all the time. These days I think good
memories outweigh the sad ones, but I do have those as well."

"Yeah, I'm sure, but, Tom, time helps. I know it does and will."

We talked for a hour or more, talking about all sorts of things. At one
point, Keith remarked that we hadn't really talked in a long time, which
was true.

When we decided to go to bed, we both naturally walked upstairs and after
we had brushed our teeth, Keith said, "I guess I wasn't thinking, Tom. I'll
go downstairs to sleep."

"No need. I promise I won't do evil things to you."

Keith smiled and we crawled into bed. Without thinking, I wrapped him in my
arms. He didn't say anything or do anything and for the first time in
months, I drifted into peaceful sleep and slept without waking up until
morning. When I did, Keith had wrapped his arms around me and spooned
himself in to my back. I knew it meant nothing beyond our friendship, but
that meant a lot and it felt so right.

****

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