When I Found You

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When I Found You Page 30

by Hyde, Catherine Ryan


  “That’s nice. Do you know what it’s going to be yet?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “OK. I’ll leave you to think.”

  “Thank you,” Nat said.

  Ten minutes may have gone by, or it may have been half an hour. It was hard for Nat to judge. But in time he reached for the phone. Pulled the receiver off its cradle on the bedside table without getting up. Without moving much.

  He dialed a number he still knew by heart.

  “Hello?” An old woman’s voice. Startlingly old. Did it even sound familiar to him?

  “Gamma?”

  A long, weighted silence. She couldn’t very well ask who was calling. She had to know. That one word said it all. Maybe she was just too taken aback to answer.

  “Gamma, it’s me. Nat.”

  8 March 1990

  Mad

  Nat stepped into the gym around eight o’clock in the evening. Everybody had gone home except Danny. Which was hardly a surprise. Nat had planned it that way quite purposely.

  Danny was pounding a heavy bag, his back to Nat. Nat knew Danny must have heard the door swing shut. But he did not turn around. Man, he was one big kid. Working out with just his trunks on, he looked close to a heavyweight already. And probably no more than fourteen. Not much more, anyway.

  “Danny.”

  “What you want, Nat?” Still without turning around. Without missing a punch. No wonder Little Manny kept saying Danny reminded him of Nat.

  “My name is Nathan, actually.”

  Danny stopped punching. Held the bag a moment and looked over his shoulder. “Well, I know that,” he said. “But you go by Nat.”

  “Not any more. Now I go by Nathan.”

  “Oh, so now I lose points because I didn’t know that, when how could I know?”

  “I’m not upset. I’m just telling you.”

  “Doesn’t that make it more confusing with the older Nathan?”

  “The older Nathan is gone now. He died.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry, Nat. I mean, Nathan. That’s too bad.”

  “Yeah,” Nat said. “I’m sorry, too. Come on, get in the ring with me. I want to see what you can do.”

  Nat walked over to the equipment shelves and took down a pair of mitts. When he turned back, Danny hadn’t moved. He just stood there next to the bag, gloved fists hanging at his sides. Staring at Nat.

  “What?” Nat asked.

  “I been hanging around here the better part of two years and you ain’t wanted to see what I can do.”

  “Well, tonight I do.” Nat stepped through the ropes and into the ring.

  Danny seemed to chew that over for another few seconds. Then he shrugged and ducked through the ropes. He waited patiently while Nat put the mitts on, raised them to position and gave the word.

  “OK. Hit me.”

  Danny began sparring gently. Too gently. Technically, his punches looked good. But they felt too easy on Nat’s mitts. As if Danny were treating him like fine bone china.

  “Know what your problem is?” Nat asked.

  Danny stopped punching. Stood still in the ring, hands frozen in position. As though someone had punched him. His face soft. Too nice, Nat thought. Too sweet a kid. At least, for this business.

  “As a fighter?”

  “Yeah. As a fighter.”

  “Didn’t think I had a problem. Little Manny thinks I’m good.”

  “You want to hear my opinion or not?”

  Danny’s arms fell to his sides. “OK. What’s my problem?”

  “Passion.”

  ‘Passion?”

  “Yes. Passion. As in, where’s yours?”

  “I thought passion was like … a thing between a guy and his girlfriend.”

  “That’s just one kind of passion and it’s not the kind I’m talking about. I’m talking about emotion. Fire. Anger. That’s it!” Nat shouted, and Danny jumped as if someone had fired off a gun next to his ear. “That’s what’s missing. Anger.”

  “Who’m I supposed to be mad at?”

  “Has to be somebody. What about me? I refused to train you.”

  “That’s up to you. You don’t gotta work for free.”

  “It didn’t make you mad?”

  “No. I just don’t like you much.”

  “OK, let’s try this another way. Who would you be mad at if you were the kind of guy to get mad?”

  Danny tried to scratch his nose with one glove, but gave up quickly. “My dad, I guess. For taking off before I was born. And my mom. ‘Cause when she left me at my grandma’s she said she’d be back in just a few weeks, and we’d live together again. But she only came back one summer and a couple weekends, and we ain’t lived together since.”

  “Ha. You call that a sad story? My mother could have dumped me at my grandmother’s house, but instead she left me in the woods under a pile of leaves. To die. In October.”

  Danny rocked his head back in disbelief. “Why you standing here, then?”

  “Just luck. Nathan was out hunting with his dog, and the dog sniffed me out before I could freeze all the way to death.”

  “You feeding me shit?”

  Nat raised his right mitt as if in a court of law. “God’s honest truth. I’ve got the newspaper clipping to prove it.”

  Danny stared down at the mat for a beat or two. Then he looked Nat right in the eye. “OK. So your story sadder’n mine. OK. But my story still my story. I mean … even if somebody else got it worse. What I got was bad enough. You know?”

  Nat took two steps in. Stood almost nose to nose with the boy. Raised his mitts again. “Then why don’t you … get …” He geared up every ounce of volume he had in him. “Mad!”

  Danny hit him with a powerful shot to the right mitt. Nat, who still wasn’t a hundred per cent steady on his feet, ended up on his back, his head thumping hard on the mat.

  He looked up into Danny’s terrified face.

  “Nat! You OK? Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m fine, kid. I’m not a raw egg.”

  “Little Manny said you gotta be careful with your head.”

  “That’s just the right side here. Back of my head is just as hard as anybody’s. Harder than most. You want to back off a little so I can get up?”

  Danny took a step back and held out an arm to Nat. “I know how to get up on my own,” Nat said. He rolled over and rose to his feet.

  “You sure you’re OK? I’m sorry, Nat. I mean, Nathan.”

  “Do not be sorry. Never be sorry for your anger in the ring. Now, that was good just then. Show me some more of that.”

  31 December 1999

  Epilogue

  The minute Nat stepped out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, he spotted Danny in the crowd. It wasn’t difficult. First of all, he was a good head taller than anybody around him. Secondly, he had sighted Nat and was hopping up and down like a little kid, waving his arms wildly.

  “I want to go with you, Nathan,” Danny said the minute Nat caught up to him. He stood in a pack of trainers and managers and promoters, all of whom turned their eyes on Nat when Danny spoke.

  “What? We’re not all going in one limo?”

  Vick, one of Danny’s two managers, said, “They sent two limos. There’re nine of us, so they sent two. I thought we could’ve squeezed in …”

  “Or we could have gotten reservations at the Mandalay,” Nat said, “and not bothered with limos at all.”

  “Yeah, yeah, sure,” Vick said. “And if things were different they wouldn’t be the same.”

  He herded them through the front doors of the hotel, held open for them by uniformed doormen. Out on to the pavement, where two black stretches waited at the valet curb, their doors also held open by uniformed employees.

  Mike, one of the trainers, said, “So we’ll split into four and five. And Nathan can go in Danny’s limo.”

  “No,” Danny said. All eyes turned to him. “I want to go in a limo with Nathan. Just Nathan.”

  Vick rolle
d his eyes.

  Nat said, “You should go with your trainers, Danny.”

  Danny put a hand on Nat’s chest and pushed him back a few steps, away from the ears of the crowd.

  “Thing is,” he said quietly, his face close to Nat’s, “I still sort of think of you as my trainer.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t make me laugh. You’re in such a different league now. We’re not even orbiting the same planets.”

  “I don’t mean it like that. Just that we go way back.”

  Nat sighed. Walked around Danny and up to where Vick was waiting, tapping his foot on the curb.

  “He’s just nervous,” Nat said.

  “Fine. Whatever. Who cares? Both cars go to the same place.” Then, more loudly, to Danny, “We’ll see you there, kid.”

  “I’m not a kid!” Danny shouted back. “I’m twenty-four years old.”

  “Twenty-four years old is a kid,” Vick said, and ducked inside the first limo.

  • • •

  “I want to sit on this backwards side,” Danny said, settling on the seat facing the rear of the limo, his back to the driver. “I like to watch the world go by backwards.”

  “Now why is that?”

  “I dunno. Just do. How often do you get to see the world go by backwards?”

  Nat shifted from his forward-facing seat and sat beside Danny, watching the Las Vegas strip flash by in reverse. “Yeah. I guess I see what you mean,” he said.

  “This sure is one lit-up town.”

  “Never been to Vegas before?”

  “Now how would I’ve ever been to Vegas?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe your grandmother was a gambler.”

  “My grandma wasn’t no gambler.”

  “No offense intended.”

  “No offense taken. But she wasn’t.” He leaned his head back and watched the lights stream by. Looking nearly hypnotized. Then he said, “Wish she was still here to see this.”

  “Yeah. I know what you mean. I wish Nathan were still here.”

  “And Little Manny.”

  “Yeah. And Little Manny.”

  “Is Carol gonna watch from home?”

  “Are you kidding? She wouldn’t miss it. She’s watching and taping.”

  “If my grandma and your Nathan and Little Manny had lived to see this, even if they was too old and sick to come, they coulda watched it on the TV.”

  “If they had cable, yeah.”

  “If my grandma was alive, she’d get cable. She’d buy her some HBO to see this.”

  “Maybe she’ll still see,” Nat said. “Even so.”

  “Think so?”

  “I don’t know. Truthfully, I got no idea. But why not think the best in a situation? Since we don’t know.”

  “Yeah. Maybe. I hope so. Speaking of which. Speaking of what we don’t know. What you think gonna happen come midnight tonight? Think planes’ll fall out of the sky, and shit? And there won’t be no lights, and no water, and all the nuclear plants’ll melt down or something? Think the whole world’ll fall apart over that computer Y2K shit?”

  Nat smiled inwardly to himself. He knew this was a month’s worth of words for Danny. And he also knew it meant Danny was nervous.

  “No,” he said. “I don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t. I just don’t think it’ll be that big a deal.”

  “You don’t think people’ll go to their ATM money machines and find ’em all screwed up and shut down? You be willing to bet that won’t happen?”

  “I’m not a betting man, Danny.”

  “What? You don’t have some dollars on me to win tonight?”

  “Well. Yeah. Sure I do. Of course I do. But that’s not the same. That’s not really gambling. That’s a sure thing.”

  Danny grinned widely.

  Then something caught his eye out the window, and he pitched forward, his fingers marking the glass with his nervous perspiration.

  “Look at that, Nathan! Look!”

  Nat leaned over and tried to see around him. Just before the driver turned into the circular hotel driveway, Nat caught a glimpse of what Danny had seen.

  Danny had his name up in neon on the hotel sign. It said:

  MANDALAY BAY RESORT AND CASINO PRESENTS

  LIVE TONIGHT

  DIEGO GARCIA vs DANIEL LATHROP

  There was another line underneath, but the limo was circling the fountain now, and the sign spun out of Nat’s view.

  “Holy shit,” Danny said. Sounding truly scared. “That makes my legs feel all gooey inside. You believe what we just saw?”

  “What? You didn’t think they’d put it on the sign?”

  “No. I knew they would. But do you believe it?”

  “Yup. This is the big time, Danny. You’re going to the show.”

  • • •

  “You got any last words for me, Nathan?”

  “You’re not dying, Danny. But, yeah. I do.”

  He took Danny by the elbow and pulled him off into the corner of the huge dressing room. Away from the entourage crowd.

  “First of all, I’m so freaking jealous of you I could die right here on the spot. And also I’m so happy for you I could die all over again. That’s twice in one night. But not necessarily in that order. But the main thing I want to tell you is that I’m proud of you tonight.”

  Danny furrowed his brow, frowning. “What if I don’t win?”

  “It’s not contingent on your winning.”

  “I don’t know what that word means.”

  “Contingent? It just means it doesn’t depend on it. That’s why I’m telling you now. Because I’m proud of you now. I’m proud of you for getting this far. And for who you are. And how you did this.”

  A rapping on the door.

  A voice on the other side called, “Two minutes.”

  They both stared at the door for another moment. As if expecting it to do something.

  Then Danny said, “Thanks, Nathan. Wish you could be in that corner with me.”

  “But you know I can’t. But I’ll be right behind you. The whole time. But I don’t want you to think about that. Just know I’m back there, but give all your attention to Mike. In-between rounds, when you’re in your corner, there’s nobody else in the world except Mike. When the bell rings again, there’s nobody else in the world except Garcia. I’m right behind you. But don’t split your focus.”

  “OK, Nathan. I won’t. Nathan? Is it OK if I’m really scared?”

  “If you weren’t, I’d figure you didn’t know the half of what was going on here. But you’ll be good. I’m going out there now. And I’m going to watch you walk out. You walk into that place like you own it. You hear me?”

  Nat reached out his fists and Danny bumped them lightly with his own, like fighters in the middle of the ring.

  “Thanks, Nathan. I still don’t got no idea why you did everything you did for me. But thanks.”

  • • •

  Even Danny’s back looked scared, Nat thought.

  He watched from behind as Danny opened up to accept his mouth guard from Mike.

  Then he watched as Danny nodded. And nodded. And nodded.

  What could Mike possibly have to say to him that hadn’t been said a hundred times before?

  A few seconds later, Danny broke the rules. He glanced over his shoulder and made eye contact with Nat.

  Nat winked at him, and smiled. Then he pointed back to Mike. To say, “Back to your focus.”

  Danny’s head and eyes shifted forward again.

  Nat pulled his wallet out of his front pocket. He always kept it in his front pocket at any sort of boxing event. Not the most dependable crowd in the world. If he lost a few bucks, that wouldn’t have been the end of the world. And he didn’t have a driver’s license anyway.

  But the good-luck charm. That was one of a kind. And it was not about to go anywhere, if he could help it.

  He pulled the photo out of the wallet. He’d had it l
aminated, so he could run his thumb over the face in the picture without fading or smearing it. Even if his hands were sweating just a little bit.

  Like they were tonight.

  He felt a presence behind him and whipped his head around. Vick was looking over his shoulder.

  “Who’s that, your grandfather?”

  “Something like that, yeah.” When Vick didn’t comment further, Nat said, “It’s my good-luck charm. I’ve had it with me at every single match Danny ever fought. Amateur and pro both.”

  “Yeah? Well, generally speaking I don’t put much stock in luck. But if it got the kid this far, I say have at it.”

  He moved away again. Which was good.

  It allowed Nat to say what he always said before one of Danny’s fights. Quietly. Under his breath. But always out loud.

  “If you’ve got any kind of influence where you are, Nathan, this would be a good moment to use it.”

  He slid the photo back into his pocket when the bell rang.

  THE END

  Second Hand Heart

  by Catherine Ryan Hyde

  “A fascinating premise and a lovely book. Highly recommended.” – Chicklittings

  “Heartwarming and Heartbreaking…Plan to read Second Hand Heart when you’re ready to stay awake all night (with a box of Kleenex) – you’ll want to read it straight through to the end.” – Catherine Gallegos, reader review

  “A compelling, thoughtful read.” – Choice Magazine

  “A first-rate read!…Second Hand Heart is a great book about surviving despite the odds” – Leah Graham, Chick Lit Reviews and News

  Can a heart remember the people it once loved?

  By Catherine Ryan Hyde, the bestselling author of PAY IT FORWARD and 18 published and forthcoming books, SECOND HAND HEART is a warm and wonderful novel of love, unexpected chances, and inconceivable loss—of learning to live for the first time, and learning to live all over again.

  Vida is 19 and has a life-threatening heart condition. Richard is 36 and has just lost his beloved wife in a car accident. When Richard is invited to the hospital to meet the young woman who received his wife’s donor heart, Vida takes one look at him and feels she’s loved him all her life. Is Vida just a sheltered and confused young woman? Or is there truth behind the theory of cellular memory? Can a heart remember, at least for a time, on its own?

 

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