Fairplay, Denver Cereal Volume 6

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Fairplay, Denver Cereal Volume 6 Page 12

by Claudia Hall Christian


  “Who knows?” Sandy shrugged. “The weirdest thing about it was that she was pissed about it for months. Every time I talked to her, every time I saw her, she went on and on about it. Then like a switch, she stopped talking about it. It was so weird I asked her about not talking about it. You know what she said?”

  “What?”

  “She said she didn’t know what I was talking about,” Sandy said. “’Why would I care about manufacturing standards?’ That’s what she said. She acted like I made the whole thing up. I was surprised, but Dad was sick and…”

  “Huh,” Seth said. “Where do you think she kept her computers?”

  “Jill asked Agent Angie about another room,” Sandy said. “She asked a couple of times. But the FBI said there wasn’t another room, blah, blah.”

  “Another room?”

  “Here,” Sandy said. “Connected to this room.”

  “Where?” Seth asked.

  “Let’s ask Jill,” Sandy said.

  “Jill?”

  “She’s got some powers…” Sandy gestured to her head. “…you know, those kind of powers, since she’s pregnant with the boys.”

  “Oh good Lord,” Seth said. “More Marlowe boys.”

  “Poor Jill,” Sandy smiled. “She says it’s like a curse or madness. She doesn’t know how to use the skills or what to do with them. Jacob and Katy tease her all the time.”

  “You think she can find this room?”

  “I do.”

  “We need your help, Sandy,” Seth said. “We can’t do it without you. I know it’s a horrible imposition, but…”

  “No,” Sandy said. “We have to stop this thing. For me and every other girl and boy they’ve used.”

  “That’s my girl,” Seth said.

  “Thanks for coming to help,” Sandy hugged him.

  “I didn’t come to help,” Seth said. “I came to drop off…”

  “Yes, yes,” Sandy said.

  She undid her side window screen but left the windshield screen up.

  “Just stay there and I’ll…” She started to say when the passenger door opened and Maresol’s fury marked face appeared. Maresol directed a stream of angry Spanish at Seth. But when Sandy was getting out of the car, she heard Maresol ask Seth if he’d gotten it. She watched as the two old friends whispered back and forth. When Maresol stood up, she was back to her charade of being angry with Seth. Unable to stop herself, Sandy ran around the car and hugged Maresol tight.

  “Your idea?” Sandy whispered in the woman’s ear. She felt more than saw Maresol nod.

  “He was so frantic, so worried,” Ava’s voice came from behind them. “I don’t think Maresol had a choice.”

  “You see what I have to deal with Sandra,” Seth said. “Women telling me what to do.”

  Sandy laughed.

  “Come on, old man,” Maresol said. “Let’s go catch this bitch.”

  “Bitch?” Sandy’s eyes went round. “Did you just say ‘bitch’?”

  Maresol laughed. Their laughter brought Jill, Heather and Tanesha over.

  “Can you find the room?” Seth asked Jill.

  “I can try,” Jill said. “I’m not very good and I don’t really know what I’m doing but…”

  “Sounds perfect,” Seth said.

  “Would you like me to take you home now?” Dale asked.

  “And miss this?” Seth shook his head. “Not a chance.”

  Dale followed Ava and the girlfriends toward the storage locker.

  “But I’ll need help,” Seth said under his breath.

  “Come on old man,” Sandy said. She put her shoulder under his arm. Maresol took the other side. “Let’s catch the bitch.”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Wednesday afternoon – 4:25 P.M.

  “Hi Rubén,” Blane said.

  Walking into his doctor’s office, Blane found the phlebotomist who took his weekly blood draw waiting for him.

  “Hola Blane?” Rubén, the phlebotomist asked. “You can come back.”

  Blane followed the young man back through the maze of hallways to what he called the ‘blood letting’ area. Since his liver crash a few months ago, he came in once a week to see how he was doing. So far, with Heather’s help, intensive Chinese herbs and acupuncture, his liver had been able to battle back.

  So far.

  Every week was another test, another mystery. Rubén tapped a chair and Blane sat down.

  “Where’s Heather today?” Rubén asked.

  “She’s helping her friend Sandy with her mother’s storage locker,” Blane said. “It’s a long story. Sam and Jake are picking up Mack. We’re going to have a boy’s evening.”

  “Beer and pizza?” Rubén smiled.

  “Playground and ice cream,” Blane said. “Or something like that. Boy’s night has a very different meaning than it used to. Sam has some plan.”

  “Never stop a man with a plan,” Rubén said.

  “That’s for sure,” Blane said. He rolled up his sleeve for Rubén.

  “You know,” Rubén said. He put the rubber strap around Blane’s arm. “I’ve always wanted to ask you…”

  “Okay,” Blane said.

  “I don’t want to be rude,” Rubén said. “Make a fist for me.”

  “Okay.”

  “But I always wondered…” Rubén tapped his vein.

  “I’m kind of stuck here,” Blane said. “Ask away.”

  “How did you get AIDS?” Rubén asked. His head was down and he stabbed the needle into Blane’s vein.

  “I prostituted myself in Cheesman,” Blane said.

  Rubén didn’t move from his head down position.

  “Why?”

  “Does Heather know?” Rubén asked. When he looked up, his face was horror stricken. “You guys seem so happy and…”

  “Of course, Heather knows,” Blane said.

  “I mean about you being gay,” Rubén said.

  “Of course, Heather knows.”

  “But…” Rubén said.

  “There you are,” Jacob said. “Dad and Mack are playing in the fountain out front. I thought I’d let you know.”

  Jacob flashed Rubén a bright smile.

  “I’m not ashamed of my life,” Blane’s voice rose defensively. “I was living on the streets and addicted to drugs. I didn’t have a family until Jake’s Mom found me in Cheesman. Sam took me in and Jake saved my life. I’m gay. That’s the truth. I would never lie to Heather. Ever. I don’t know what you’re implying.”

  “Nothing,” Rubén said. “I didn’t mean anything. Really.”

  Pulling off the last tube, Ruben released the band.

  “Sorry,” Rubén said. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Or…”

  “Great,” Jacob said. “We’d better go rescue Sam and Mack before they get arrested.”

  Blane nodded to Rubén and followed Jacob out of the office.

  “What was that?” Blane whispered to Jacob when they got to the waiting area.

  “I think he’s interested in you,” Jacob pushed open the door to the office.

  “Interested?” Blane’s eyebrows went up.

  “Interested in dating you?” Jacob laughed at Blane’s puzzled look.

  “He is?” Blane turned to look back in the office. “In me?”

  “Yes, genius,” Jacob said. “He’s your type and is interested in you. If I hadn’t saved you, you would have blown it.”

  “Blown what?” Blane glanced back at Rubén who was standing behind the counter and followed Jacob into the hall.

  “I guess you’ll find out,” Jacob said.

  For a moment, Rubén stared at the closed office door.

  “What’s wrong?” Blane’s doctor asked when he saw Rubén.

  “Blane just told me he’s gay,” Rubén said. “He says Heather knows about him being gay. She’s in love with him. She’s his wife. He’s going to destroy her.”

  “He is?”

  “Of course, he is,” Rubén said. “Gayness isn’t a dis
ease that even the most wonderful, beautiful woman can cure.”

  Laughing, the doctor patted Rubén’s shoulder and turned to go.

  “Why did you laugh?” Rubén asked.

  “Heather is Blane’s wife, right?” the doctor asked.

  Rubén nodded.

  “She’s not his lover,” the doctor said. “He hasn’t had a lover since he got burned by a guy he was committed to five or six years ago.”

  “So he went straight?”

  “You’re so conservative,” the doctor laughed.

  “Me?” Rubén asked.

  “That’s why I laughed,” the doctor said. “Maybe you should ask Heather. I was concerned too. I asked her. She’ll tell you. They’re convinced they’re soul mates. You’ve seen them together. Don’t they seem like soul mates?”

  “But…”

  “Conservative,” the doctor laughed.

  Turning, the doctor walked down the hallway to his office. Rubén stood in behind the counter for a moment and ran after him. He tapped on the doctor’s door and went in. The doctor looked up from the chart note he was writing.

  “What are you saying?” Rubén asked.

  “I’m saying that there are lots of different kinds of soul mates,” the doctor said. “Blane and Heather are parents. They have Mack and are hoping to adopt from foster care. They’re partners in everyway except one – they aren’t in a sexual relationship.”

  “What if…?”

  “If she finds someone, Blane and the kids come with her. If he does, same thing. Or that’s what they say. We’ll see how it works out if and when it happens.”

  “So he’s available?” Rubén asked.

  “He comes with a child and a wife,” the doctor said. “That’s a tall bill for anyone to take on.”

  “So he’s available?” Rubén asked.

  “He was burned badly by this guy,” the doctor said. “He doesn’t associate in the gay community because he was thrown out, shamed, and his life destroyed. If you can get him past even considering a first date, then he’s available.”

  Rubén nodded and left the doctor’s office. He wandered back to his testing station, put together a package to send to the lab, cleaned up and got his stuff. He was almost to his car when he realized what the doctor had said.

  His dream man was available.

  Smiling, he started his car and drove home.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Wednesday evening – 6:25 P.M.

  Looking in the mirror, Schmidty tucked his dress shirt into his jeans. He couldn’t do anything about his thinning hair or his distance runner’s thin body.

  “Lizzie knows you’re bald and skinny,” Schmidty said to his reflection.

  His reflection didn’t say what he wanted it to. It didn’t say how handsome he was. It didn’t shout great catch. He leaned closer. His image reflected what he was sure it always did – that he was a complete and total loser.

  “Just pizza,” Schmidty said. “It’s just pizza.”

  He tugged on his shirt to give him more bulk.

  “You can get through pizza, can’t you?”

  It wasn’t like Lizzie was the first girl Schmidty had taken out. He’d dated a lot in high school and college. She wasn’t even his first shickza.

  He smiled at the word. She’d heard the word somewhere, probably from one of Seth’s music friends. He didn’t know what she meant. They were playing in his parent’s backyard when she snottily told him she wouldn’t be his shickza. He’d nodded and ran inside to ask his Dad. His Dad has looked over his reading glasses at him for a moment before saying: “A shicksa is a gentile woman a Jewish man uses for sex.” Without saying another word, his father had gone back to read Variety.

  Blushing head to toe, he’d stood there. “I don’t need to tell you how bad it would be if you burned O’Malley’s daughter.” His father’s voice came from behind the newspaper. He’d swallowed hard and ran away. At ten years old, he was mortified to think she knew he thought of her in ‘that way.’ His cheeks in his reflection flushed red at the memory.

  He still thought of her in ‘that way.’

  “It’s just pizza, Jammy,” Schmidty called himself by his childhood nickname. “She likes pizza. You like pizza.”

  He swallowed hard.

  “Don’t screw this up.” He pointed at himself in the mirror.

  His reflection nodded to him. In the mirror, he caught the time on the clock on the wall behind him.

  “Crap.”

  Grabbing a jacket, he jammed his wallet and keys into his pants and jogged out of his Hilltop house. He took Alameda to Steele Street around the Cherry Creek Mall. As if it was fate, he caught every green light on Steele and turned on Clarkson Street. Turning on Seventeenth, he pulled into a parking space right in front of Sandy’s condo where Lizzie was living. He took the stairs two at a time until he was standing in front of Sandy’s door.

  He knocked.

  And waited.

  He looked up at the ceiling as waves of shame and remorse passed through him. She’d stood him up. He was about to leave when Lizzie yanked the door open.

  She was sucking sauce off her thumb.

  “Sorry,” Lizzie said. “I was setting the table.”

  “I thought we were going out,” Schmidty said.

  “Sandy reminded me that Pasquini’s is really loud,” Lizzie said. “I had the pizza delivered. Sandy still had Dad’s cards so he paid. I hope that’s okay.”

  Lizzie turned in place and went back to the dining room.

  “You still don’t eat pork,” Lizzie’s voice floated toward him. “Right?”

  Schmidty stood in the doorway for a moment then followed her in. Turning to close the door, he smiled to himself.

  Everything was perfect.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED & SIXTY-SEVEN

  Awaken

  One and a half days later

  Friday morning—4:20 A.M.

  When he turned off the shower, Aden heard Rachel fuss in her bassinette attached to Sandy’s side of the bed. Sandy was curled up on her side and sound asleep. Not wanting to wake Sandy and still dripping from the shower, Aden picked up Rachel and took her into their closet. He set her in her portable bassinette so that he could dress. He went through the quick proficient motions of changing her diaper. Hearing a noise, he watched Sandy’s black and white cat Cleo settle in next to Sandy’s belly. He was about to lay Rachel back into the bassinette by the bed when she cooed at him.

  Aden stared at the baby. Outside of the frantic kangarooing when Rachel was in the NICU and Sandy was on death’s door, Aden hadn’t spent any time with her alone. Rachel was tucked away in a sling on Sandy’s shoulder, pressed against one of Sandy’s bursting breasts, or carted around one of the kid’s hips. In a classic Sandy move, Rachel lowered her chin and smiled at him. When he tried to set her down, she reached her tiny arms out to him.

  He couldn’t let her go.

  He picked up her portable bassinette and carried her to the living room. The kids would be up in a half hour and their day would be a flurry of activity and noise. Aden usually used this small window of still quiet for meditation and working on his daily affirmations.

  “My sobriety depends on it,” Aden said in a soft voice to Rachel. Rachel bat her big eyes at him. “You know how important my sobriety is to everything.”

  Rachel reached her hand out to his face. He felt a flood of emotion that almost cracked him wide open. He leaned down to kiss her face. She’d started life looking more like a creature than a child. She’d fought back from near death over and over again. She’d struggled just to take each breath, to be his daughter, to live. For a moment, he felt the weight and beauty of all she’d done in her short life.

  She kicked her legs and moved her arms. No one would ever know all she’d been through. Sandy’s dedication to breast feeding had helped her grow to newborn size. Her doctor said there was no reason to expect she wouldn’t live a healthy life. Aden smiled at her and she smiled back at him.


  He lowered his face closer to hers just to look at her. In her eyes, he saw a tiny glimmer of Noelle. She closed her eyes like Nash did when he was thinking. Her smile was all Sandy. In the shadow, he saw the tiniest reflection of Seth and his parents.

  She was his daughter. She was Sandy’s daughter.

  In the way of infants, Rachel squinted and pursed her lips. Her face puzzled. She squirmed at the rumblings of her belly. Aden chuckled.

  “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Charlie’s voice jolted him out of his revelry. He looked at Charlie. Rumpled from sleep, he was standing in the doorway. “Every time I think about using, I think of Rachel. She wants to live so much. She doesn’t care if it hurts; she just wants to live. Who the hell am I to numb out?”

  Aden nodded at the young man. Rachel cooed again and he looked at her again.

  “I’ll make breakfast,” Charlie said. “Is there something special for Noelle’s birthday?”

  “Cinnamon rolls,” Aden said. “Sandy left the instructions on the pan.”

  “I’ll put them in,” Charlie said.

  Aden’s ear picked up the sound from the kitchen but his attention was on the baby in his lap. He laughed.

  “What’s funny?” Charlie asked.

  “I can’t believe this is my life,” Aden said.

  “Pretty great,” Charlie said. “I feel that sometimes.”

  “I better wake Sandy,” Aden kissed Rachel’s cheek.

  Charlie waved a spatula at him. With Rachel on his hip, Aden went toward their bedroom.

  “Hey, before you go,” Charlie said. “I wanted to ask you…”

  Aden turned to look at him.

  “Why isn’t life fair?” Charlie gave an embarrassed shrug. “Mrs. Anjelika assigned me to ask everyone.”

  “I could just tell you what they say at meetings…”

  “I have to find out what you think. That’s the assignment,” Charlie said.

  “I think life is life. It just is,” Aden said. “Like the mountains or the sun or the sky. These things aren’t good or bad, they just are. Life is like that.”

  “Why isn’t life fair?”

  “The mountains aren’t fair, they just are,” Aden said. “Life is the same way.”

 

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