At noon most of the newspaper and television reporters who had covered the earlier meeting reassembled in the same room for the second press conference. Connie had not yet returned, so Tom Spence and the other five members of their group took their seats around the podium, and then Tom rose and started with his prepared remarks.
He made the same case as he and the others had made to the TV5 management over the past several months. He emphasized that they were not advocating censorship, but responsibility. “The government has granted the Network and TV5 the right to broadcast into our homes, and every right also carries responsibilities,” he said. “We feel that ‘911 Live’ violates those responsibilities on several counts.” And he listed them for the reporters.
As a result of the previous conference, Tom added to his text that each of them had made an individual decision, not aided or coerced by the other. He quickly reviewed their previous frustrations with changing Network policies and called for a public response to both TV5 and to Network to cancel or to reposition the show.
Once he finished his remarks, the reporters started asking questions.
“Is it true that you are all Christian fundamentalists?”
“It happens that we are all Christian believers—I'm not sure how to define a fundamentalist,” Tom answered. “But this issue is far broader than any one faith. It has to do with families and simple decency and government licenses. Those are the issues we should be focused on.”
“Aren't you calling for internal censorship, which has been a plank of the Christian right wing for years?”
“Again, I'm glad that I'm a Christian, but that's not the issue today. If internal censorship means the decision makers at Network decide not to show a particular show because it is inappropriate or in poor taste, then I guess the answer is yes.”
The questions continued on this line for several more minutes, and the conference was becoming a religious debate, when the back door of the room opened and Connie walked in, holding Eddie Barnes’ hand. Eddie's father pushed his wheelchair. They came right to the dais, and Eddie, who still had bandages on his neck and the back of his head, smiled and waved to the reporters. Several waved back.
Tom spoke. “We could debate this show all day on theoretical grounds, with little result. Instead, let me introduce you to a very brave and very lucky young man and to his father. We met them in that awful interstate wreck you may have seen ‘featured’ in the ‘911 Live’ promotions. Ladies and gentlemen, the truth is that but for the grace of God and for two firefighters arriving just when they did, we all would have watched Eddie burned alive, right before our eyes, during that evening's dessert.”
There was a gasp from the reporters. Tom continued, “While we of course cannot provide you with the video, since it is not ours, we have obtained these color pictures, taken of the crash and of Eddie, by a motorist who happened to have a camera in his car. We have twenty copies of the set of ten prints. And we ask you to imagine these views live and in color in your home, with your children watching.”
The pictures were passed out, and the reporters started directing questions to Eddie, his father, and Connie. The last-minute decision to invite Eddie had the anticipated effect, even on a hardened press corps looking for reasons to shoot holes in their story. After thirty more minutes, Tom was sure that the reporters’ stories would at least be balanced and questioning, not just repeating Network's viewpoint. His only regret was to be creating so much publicity for the show, but they had prayed and decided that they had no other choice.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6 – “Don't forget that this Friday night I'm going out to dinner with Bruce, David, and their investor,” Richard reminded Janet over their breakfast the next morning.
“Hmmm?…Oh, yes, thanks…Richard, I remember.” Janet looked up from the morning newspaper. She had been reading the lead article in the local news section about their dual press conferences. The article had a color picture of Eddie Barnes in his father's car, and the headline read, “’911 Live’: Are We Ready For It?”
She held the paper up for Richard to see. “Whatever else happens, you have to admit this has turned into a marketing bonanza for us. Why, I bet most televisions in the city will be tuned in to that first show. Bill can ask almost anything he wants for a sixty-second spot. And maybe we really will get the show cleaned up after a few months—or else killed. It looks like a win-win to me. I wish Tom and the others hadn't quit. So senseless.”
Richard listened and gave a yes in agreement. He was interested, but for the moment he was more interested in protecting his $66,000 fee from McKinney and Smith, not to mention his $500,000 loan guarantee.
13
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8 – Richard met Bruce McKinney and David Smith in the foyer at Bruce's downtown club at 6:15. They discussed together the fact that the Fairchild stock price had stayed below 20 all week, hovering between 17 and 19 until that afternoon, when there had been an up-tick to 19.5 at the end of the day.
“Marty Tsongas and I have worked through all of the documents,” Richard said, “and they're ready to go. Frankly, we could close any time now, contingent on what happens this evening.”
They did not have long to wait. Patrick Tomlinson and Marty Tsongas came through the front door right at 6:30. There were greetings and handshakes all around before they adjourned to the small private dining room Bruce had reserved for their dinner meeting.
During the excellent meal, the talk was about the McKinney and Smith expansion plans on the one hand and about the freefall of the Fairchild Textile stock on the other. Patrick Tomlinson, in his early thirties, was trying to fill his father's shoes, with the help of old and trusted advisors like Marty Tsongas. Bruce McKinney had begun the relationship with Patrick's father over ten years ago, when he cold-called him on one day and was given the opportunity to invest 10 percent of Mr. Tomlinson's portfolio for twelve months. Bruce did so well with that assignment that their relationship expanded every year, and Patrick grew up in the business hearing his father's praises for the good work of McKinney and Smith.
So it had been a natural for Bruce to approach Mr. Tomlinson to become an investor in their company, and his son had carried on the negotiations after the unexpected death of his father.
As they sipped their coffee at the end of the meal, Bruce McKinney finally brought them to the crucial purpose of the meeting.
“It goes without saying, Patrick, that with the Fairchild stock price now below 20, you have the opportunity to cancel your investment in our company. Obviously we hope that you won't, because we have made plans and are looking forward to having your input on our board. We assume you've followed the Fairchild stock price as closely as we have, and so we're interested in what you intend to do.”
Patrick Tomlinson looked up from his coffee and glanced at Marty Tsongas, then proceeded. “Bruce, I know that none of us expected the Fairchild stock price to fall so precipitously, and it would not have except for the recent foreign acquisitions of its competitors. Unfortunately, as you know better than almost anyone, a major portion of our portfolio is still held in Fairchild stock, so there simply is not as much liquidity as we had all expected when these negotiations began.
“Marty and I and others whom I trust have talked about this situation at length, and we would like to propose to you that you consider doing the same transaction, where we purchase the same amount of McKinney and Smith stock, but that the purchase price will have to be reduced from $1,000,000 to $900,000. If you can live with that change, then we are prepared to go ahead with the closing.”
Richard held his breath. Although it would be difficult for Bruce and David, the infusion of $900,000 into their company was certainly much better than no infusion of capital at all.
Bruce and David looked at each other. David asked, “Is the change in the price the only modification we have to make?”
“Yes,” said Patrick, “there just isn't enough cash in the till. But otherwise we still think very highly of your
firm and want to join you in ownership.”
“Well, if David says yes, then I certainly do,” said Bruce. David smiled and nodded his head. Richard exhaled a great sigh of relief—he could almost see the $66,000 moving back to his side of the table. There were smiles all around.
Bruce reached across and shook Patrick's hand. “Then that's settled, and Richard and Marty can finish up the paperwork. I'd say that this calls for some celebration and relaxation. What do you say we adjourn to the Platinum Club?”
As Richard was finishing his main course downtown, Tommy was headed out the back door to get on his bike to ride over to Brent's house, his overnight bag strapped to the rack. “Zane's going to take us out for hamburgers, Mom, and then we'll probably rent a movie or two and watch them at Brent's house. His mom and dad will be back around eleven.”
“Fine, dear,” Janet replied. “If you need anything, just call me here. I guess your father will be in about the same time from his business meeting. And Susan and Drew are at the football game tonight. By the way, why aren't you going to the game?”
“Didn't want to,” was his only reply. Tommy sped over to Brent's house, where the Holcombes were backing out of the driveway. He pulled up on his bike and waved to them. Zane was already on the phone to his friends, letting them know that his parents had just left. Ten minutes later, Paul and Derrick arrived with Roger. The six boys piled into Zane's car. Their plan was to eat a simple dinner at the Rathskeller and then head downtown to the adult book store, where the high school seniors would rent videos for their evening together.
Parking was always a problem in the area of the city around the Platinum Club, almost every night of the week. In addition to the huge club itself, there were several bars, restaurants, and adult book stores in the surrounding blocks. Richard, Bruce, and their guests found a space about two blocks from the club, and they began walking along the sidewalk toward the gaudily lighted former warehouse which now paraded naked women for men to watch seven nights a week.
“You won't believe the girls in this place, Patrick,” Bruce said. “They are so wholesome looking—and so naked! We should be able to get a table and have one or two dance just for us. Which do you guys like, blondes or brunettes?”
“How about a matched pair?” Patrick volunteered. Everyone laughed. “This place is almost on the national register,” Patrick added. “Every conventioneer—well, every male conventioneer—who has ever come to your city, it seems like, has been here. I can't wait. But, hey, Marty, let's not mention this part of our visit to Kate. I don't think she'd understand why I want to see hundreds of naked young women…”
“My lips are sealed,” Marty smiled, and everyone laughed again.
Just then, as they came to the corner of the building across the street from the Platinum Club, they ran into a group of teenage boys who had been walking up the cross street and whose leader had been turned around, talking to his friends, not watching where he was going. Their paths had been shielded from each other by the building itself, and the two groups literally ran into each other at the corner.
The teenager in the lead was carrying a bag, and in the collision with Bruce McKinney, he dropped it. Three video tapes bounced out onto the sidewalk. “Hey, watch it,” the teenager said, swearing loudly. Richard, who had been in the middle of their group and had his shoe stepped on, looked up and saw his son Tommy, with Brent and Zane and three boys whom he did not recognize.
Richard looked at Tommy, who had not spoken, but instead stared back at him. Then he looked at the videos on the sidewalk, at the earrings in Derrick's ear, at the hippie clothes on Paul, again at the titles of the videos, and at the wild look in Roger's eyes. In that one instant he completely understood the last six months of Tommy's life. It was as if a knife pierced his heart, and he lost his breath at the same time.
Tommy, looking in his father's eyes, saw the revelation, the understanding, and the disappointment. It was as if a knife pierced his heart as well, and he lost his breath at the same time. He wanted to cry out to his father that he hadn't wanted to come and that it was all a mistake. Please, Daddy, take me home, and let's be happy again like we used to be when you and Mom didn't fight.… were the first thoughts in Tommy's mind.
The men sensed the recognition, just as Richard was finally able to speak. “Tommy…Brent…Zane…what are you doing here? Who are these guys? And what are these videos? Look at these.” Roger was quickly putting the videos back into the bag, but the subject matter of at least two of them had been obvious to all five men.
“Hi, Mr. Sullivan,” Brent spoke up. “Uh, we were just down renting some videos.” He stood still and smiled.
Inside Tommy, the bleeding in his heart turned quickly to venom. A voice told him that here was a real chance to hurt his father, the same way he had so often been hurt. He regained his composure and almost leered at his father, “And what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at a ‘business meeting’? That's what Mom told me. Does she know you're here?”
This was not the sort of conversation Richard's compatriots had come to the Platinum Club to hear, and they moved a few paces away, toward the club, both fascinated and horrified by Richard's plight. Tommy's friends were uneasy as well, and they moved in the direction of Zane's parked car. Tommy and Richard were left on the sidewalk, facing each other.
“Tommy, I'm here on business, but I probably need to take you home,” Richard said quietly.
Tommy laughed and said, “Yeah, right. Exactly what business do they do in the Platinum Club, Dad?”
“Tommy, why are you so angry?” was all Richard could think to say.
“You figure it out. Have a great time, Dad.” Tommy turned to join his friends. “First one home tell Mom not to wait up!” And he ran off.
Richard, drained and in shock, rejoined his group. “Weren't those the Holcombe boys?” Bruce asked, trying to make conversation.
“Yes. I vaguely remember Janet saying that Tommy was going to be over at their house tonight. I wonder how long he's been doing this?”
“How old is he?” Marty asked.
“Fourteen.”
“Mmmm,” was all that Marty could say.
Richard, realizing that his family encounter was throwing a damper on an important night, smiled, put his hand on Patrick's shoulder, and said, “Well, boys will be boys. Heaven only knows what I did at that age. Come on—let's go have some fun.” And they went inside the Platinum Club. But all night, as the girls danced lewdly on his table, Richard thought about Tommy, the three older boys, and the pictures on the covers of those videos.
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9 – On Saturday morning, Richard rose early, despite the previous night's late hour, and went to the office, as was his custom. Only this Saturday morning he had a hard time focusing on cleaning up the files from that week. Instead, a thousand thoughts of Tommy, from when he was a little boy until last night, pulsed in his head. He felt terrible about all the hours and days that were gone forever—the hours and days he could have spent with Tommy, but didn't, because other demands seemed more important at the time. What exactly had Tommy been doing? Was he really a homosex…Richard couldn't bring himself to think the word. What about that Caroline Batten in Vermont? What was going on? And how could he not know? How could he be so blind to his own son?
Richard managed to do about a half hour's worth of work in the two hours he sat at his desk. Finally he gave up and drove home, hoping to find Tommy and take him to lunch so they could talk.
But Tommy had already left for Brent's house, Janet told Richard. She acted as if nothing had happened, so Richard presumed he and Tommy had a common secret, at least for now. Well, in a strange way, maybe that's a start to a relationship, he thought.
Tommy did not come home until almost dark, and he was careful to stay near Janet until his parents left for his grade's parent support group meeting, scheduled long ago for that same night. So Richard was unable to talk to Tommy one-on-one that day.
Mea
nwhile, Amy and Bobbie went on a double date. Thomas brought a friend from his high school, Ben Forbes, who shared his faith, as a blind date for Amy. Much to the anger of Zloy and Nepravel, Amy liked Ben and was soon trying to talk him into coming to their youth group the next morning.
But the good news for the demons was that Drew convinced Susan to lie again to her parents and to spend the evening together in another motel room. By the end of that evening, Susan was still dreaming about how they would go to college together, but Drew was simply focusing on the next Saturday night at another motel.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 10 – On Sunday morning, Richard remained in their breakfast room until Tommy finally came down, late in the morning. “After you get something to eat, Tommy, let's you and me take a walk to the park.” Tommy said nothing, which meant a grudging OK.
It was a beautiful morning, still summer, really, with just a first hint of fall in the lower angle of the sun. As they walked along Devon Drive thirty minutes later, Richard, who had rehearsed this moment in his head fifty times in the past twenty-four hours, said, “Tommy I'm not here to throw stones or to be judgmental. I just want to understand. Do you mind telling me who those boys were you were with on Friday night, and what you were doing?”
Tommy had also rehearsed. One voice told him to hurt his father by telling him the truth. Another voice told him to hurt his father by telling him nothing. I win, either way, it occurred to him. No voice could be heard telling him to seek help or love from his father. He decided to give his father pieces of the truth, but he saw no reason to tell his father everything. It was his own business, after all.
So Tommy coyly answered that they were just friends from high school. There followed a thirty-minute cross-examination, as they walked around the park, during which Richard finally pieced together that Tommy had been “doing videos” with his friends for some months, when he and Janet had thought they were elsewhere. “Doing videos” apparently involved some sort of mutual stimulation, and Tommy had enjoyed both “girl” and “boy” videos. In fact, Tommy told his father, he liked both girls and boys, which, as Tommy hoped it would, turned his father's stomach.
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