Flesh and Blood

by Allison Hobbs

  While escorting her to my car, I was keenly aware of Sasha, Zoe, and the boys watching our every move. I helped Mrs. Westfield into the passenger’s side, and on the way to the hospital, I broke all sorts of traffic laws, trying to get there as quickly as possible.

  “I don’t understand why he would do something like this,” she cried. “It doesn’t make sense. Why? Why? Why?” she cried.

  “What doesn’t make sense? Baxter had an asthma attack, didn’t he?”

  “No, he tried to kill himself,” she sobbed. “He slit both his wrists, and I never saw so much blood in my life,” she said, gasping and crying hysterically.

  Jesus! A wave of guilt washed over me as I drove on. I couldn’t help thinking that if I had remembered to deliver Baxter’s message to Phoenix, Baxter wouldn’t be lying in the back of an ambulance.

  I’d never been much of a religious person, not as far as attending church, but I prayed hard for the duration of the drive, asking God to help Baxter pull through.

  I also prayed that whatever had caused Baxter to attempt suicide had nothing to do with my son. Perhaps Phoenix had been an inconsiderate friend, but he was only a kid and had no way of knowing that neglecting Baxter would result in such dire consequences.

  CHAPTER 16

  Baxter survived his self-inflicted wounds.

  After he was out of the woods, I called Sasha and filled her in.

  “What’s the next step for him?” she asked.

  “A mental health evaluation. I know from dealing with Phoenix’s suicide attempt that Baxter’s facing at least a seventy-two-hour hold, and possibly a thirty-day stay in a psychiatric facility. After he’s discharged, he’ll receive outpatient treatment with a therapist and possibly medication.”

  “Thank God he’s all right,” Sasha said.

  “Yeah, it was a close call. What is with these teens today? Why do so many of them think that ending their life is the answer to escaping the normal pressures of adolescent life?”

  “I wish I knew the answer.”

  “It’s becoming an epidemic, and I don’t get it.”

  “Are you worried that Phoenix might try it again?”

  “No, not at all. In Phoenix’s case, he wasn’t trying to escape anything, and intense therapy wasn’t recommended for him. His doctor recognized his experimentation with drugs was a cry for attention. He didn’t want to die. Messing around with heroin was a childish way to force his mother to reveal my identity. Baxter, on the other hand, apparently has serious issues that are so severe he doesn’t want to be here anymore.”

  “I feel so bad for him,” Sasha murmured.

  “Yeah, me too. Meanwhile, I might be home pretty late. I’m going to sit with Mrs. Westfield until her husband gets here.”

  “Okay. Love you, honey,” Sasha whispered.

  “Love you, too.”

  I hung up and rejoined Mrs. Westfield in Baxter’s room.

  I took a seat next to her. “What time is your husband arriving?”

  She stood up and motioned for me to follow her into the hallway.

  “I didn’t want to risk Baxter overhearing,” she said in a confidential tone. “His father can’t leave Scottsdale right now. He’s in the middle of an important project, but he’ll be here in the morning.”

  I was shocked. It was a life-and-death matter, but despite the severity of the situation, Mr. Westfield preferred to hang back at work and not check on his son until it was convenient for him. I couldn’t sit in the hospital room with Mrs. Westfield until morning, so I told her that I had to go. I told her not to hesitate to call me if she wanted to talk or needed anything.

  Driving home my mind wandered back to Mr. Westfield. His less than caring attitude toward his son was most likely the root of Baxter’s problem. The man was never around. He never put in any quality time with Baxter, and the boy was basically left on his own to navigate the road toward manhood.

  Baxter’s brush with death gave me a sense of urgency in making sure that my connection with Phoenix was secure. I decided that it would be a good time for some father-and-son bonding while we were looking at bikes tomorrow. I never wanted him to feel that I was emotionally unavailable. It was time to start telling him how much I loved him instead of assuming that he already knew. And it was time to start doling out more hugs instead of holding back for fear of making him uncomfortable.

  Eager to get home to my family, I pressed on the accelerator.

  As I hastily parked in the driveway, I frowned at the sight of Baxter’s flamboyant orange and green bike tossed carelessly on our front lawn. Hurrying inside the house, I made a mental note to speak to Phoenix about returning Baxter’s bicycle first thing tomorrow.

  I bounded up the stairs and found Sasha sitting up in bed reading. Zoe was stretched out on the bed beside her, sound asleep.

  “Zoe was so upset about Baxter, she stuck to me like glue all evening.”

  I glanced at Zoe who was wearing a pajama set that was adorned with pink dinosaurs. She looked so sweet and innocent, and it was my hope that her life would never seem so painful and hopeless that she would want to die.

  “Is Phoenix in his room?”

  “Yes, he was listening to music when I told him goodnight.”

  “How was his mood?”

  “He seemed okay. He was pensive, but didn’t seem overly sad.”

  I nodded as I gingerly lifted Zoe from our bed. “I’m going to put her to bed and then check on Phoenix. Be back in a few.”

  “Sure, babe,” Sasha said, sending a warm smile in my direction.

  After tucking Zoe in, I went to Phoenix’s room. As a courtesy, I didn’t barge in; I tapped softly on his door. When he didn’t answer, I cracked the door open and peeked in.

  In a teenage world, music was a dependable companion during good times and bad, and I expected to find him bobbing his head to music that poured through his headphones. But he was knocked out. Sleeping as hard as ever, his mouth hung open and he snored loudly. Rap music blasted from the headphones that covered his ears. It was so loud I could hear it from the doorway. It was a mystery how someone could fall asleep with that kind of racket blaring in their ears.

  I entered the room and moved softly across the floor, intending to remove the headphones. As I drew close to his bed, I noticed that he’d set his phone on the nightstand.

  Curious about what he and his friends had found so entertaining earlier in the day, I made a snap decision to snoop through his phone. As a parent, I had a right to know, even if my discovery was done in secret. Stealthily, I lifted his hand and used his thumb to unlock his phone. I tapped on the photo app and scrolled through his pictures and videos, but didn’t see anything unusual.

  Next I went through his text messages. There were about twenty texts between Phoenix and Baxter, stamped with today’s date. A feeling of apprehension settled over me as I wondered why there so many messages between them in the course of one day. As suspicion corkscrewed its way into my consciousness, my eyes began to zoom over their texts and I was deeply disturbed by what I read.

  Baxter: I thought we were best friends.

  Phoenix: I’m my own best friend.

  Baxter: If you want to be that way, then return my bike.

  Phoenix: Make me. I’ll return it when I’m finished riding with my friends. Get a life and stop bugging me.

  Baxter: I don’t understand why you’re being so mean. What did I do to you?

  Phoenix: Your existence bugs me. Besides, I don’t associate with pervs.

  Baxter: Don’t call me that. I’m not a pervert.

  Phoenix: Whatever, man. Just stop calling and texting me. If you don’t, you’ll be sorry. You won’t be able to show your ugly mug at school or anywhere else if I reveal your dirty secret.

  Baxter: I trusted you, Phoenix. Please don’t show the video.

  Phoenix: I’ll think about it, but I’m not making any promises.

  Baxter: Please, I’m begging you.

  Phoenix: Okay,
let’s make a deal. Let me have your bike and I won’t show the entire neighborhood your X-rated performance.

  Baxter: But I worked so hard on that bike. I can let you have another one.

  Phoenix: Nope, I want the one I chose.

  Baxter: Okay, it’s all yours. You can keep it.

  Phoenix: Cool. Now fuck off, loser, and leave me alone.

  After that exchange, there weren’t any more messages from Baxter.

  A great sense of sorrow and shame fell over me. I was absolutely horrified by Phoenix’s heartlessness. I thought about the way he and his two friends had laughed contemptuously while looking at their phones.

  It was now apparent that Phoenix hadn’t kept his promise to Baxter.

  Infuriated, I gripped his shoulder and shook it. “Phoenix! Phoenix!” I spoke in a harsh whisper, trying to quietly awaken him without alerting Sasha.

  His eyelids fluttered open, but he was in such a deep state of sleep, his eyes were bleary and unfocused.

  “I need to talk to you,” I said gruffly as I snatched his headphones off.

  He mumbled something incoherent, and I gave up trying to get him to respond in a lucid manner.

  Certain that whatever he’d sent to Matthew’s and Ryan’s phone was of a provocative nature and undoubtedly involved Baxter, I quickly scrolled to Matthew’s name and opened up his and Phoenix’s texts.

  My mouth fell open and my legs nearly gave out when I found myself staring at a still shot of a video that featured a bare-chested Baxter wearing a helpless expression.

  I wondered if the contents of the video were the reason he’d tried to kill himself.

  Deeply troubled, I took a deep breath and ran a shaky palm over my jawline. Before tapping on the arrow and bringing the video to life, I took a seat on Phoenix’s bed. Split-seconds later, I was viewing Baxter walking to the other side of what appeared to be his bedroom. I winced when he lowered himself to his knees.

  It was painfully clear that I was viewing a sexually explicit video of Baxter and another boy…or possibly an adult man, whose face wasn’t revealed. In fact, the only part of the unidentified person’s anatomy that was visible was his genital region.

  It had never entered my mind that Baxter was gay, not that it mattered. Someone had taken advantage of him, probably some immoral child predator he’d met online.

  Apparently, he had trusted Phoenix enough to share his secret with him, and Phoenix had cruelly used it against him. He’d even gone as far as blackmailing him into giving him one of his prized possessions.

  And even after he gave Phoenix his bike, Phoenix still betrayed him.

  He shared the video with his new friends, and together they had laughed derisively at Baxter. There was no telling how many other kids had viewed the video, but I would bet that most of Baxter’s schoolmates had seen it by now.

  I slumped forward with my elbows digging into my thighs, my hands cupping my face as I tried to figure out how to handle the dilemma. I needed to share the video with Baxter’s parents. Hell, I needed to alert the police, but before doing so, I had to figure out a way to keep Phoenix out of the equation.

  Desperate to protect Phoenix, I refused to provide anyone with information that would label my son as a bully, responsible for destroying another kid’s life.

  I concluded that it was best not to tell anyone about my discovery of the video. In protective parent mode, I deleted the texts between Baxter and Phoenix, and I also deleted the texts Phoenix had sent to Matthew and Ryan, containing the damning video. Then, with my middle finger poised to delete anything that contained sexual subject matter, I searched through his pictures and videos once again but found nothing.

  Satisfied that I’d gotten rid of any material that could possibly point to Phoenix having any involvement in Baxter’s suicide attempt, I walked stiffly back to my bedroom.

  “What’s the matter, Malik?” Sasha asked, putting her book down as she gazed at me.

  “Nothing’s wrong; I’m just tired.”

  “I bet you are. Take off your clothes and get in bed, honey. I’ll give you a relaxing massage to help you sleep.” She patted my side of the bed.

  I could tell by the sensual tone of her voice that she intended to give me much more than a massage, and for the first time in our marriage, I wasn’t in the mood for sex.

  I simply wanted to slip into a deep sleep and forget that Baxter’s innocence had been stolen.

  And I also wanted to forget that there was something terribly wrong with my son.

  He lacked empathy. He was a bully. And he was mean-spirited and unkind.

  But I still loved him with all my heart and soul, and I would do everything to protect him…even from himself.

  I couldn’t talk to Sasha about what I’d discovered because I didn’t want her to look at Phoenix differently. I didn’t want her to fear that he might be a bad influence on Zoe.

  My son was my problem, and I intended to get the problem fixed. First of all, I had to get him professional help. If I had to drag him kicking and screaming to a therapist’s office, then so be it. But the nature of his therapy sessions wouldn’t be anyone’s business except his and mine.

  Of course, I’d have to tell Elle to ensure that he continued with therapy when he returned to Philadelphia. Whether or not she shared the information with Everett was up to her. But if she felt remotely close to the way I felt, she’d keep the distasteful information about our son’s lack of character to herself.

  CHAPTER 17

  I woke up Sunday morning with a feeling of dread that I couldn’t identify. As the cobwebs cleared from my head, I remembered that Baxter was lying in the hospital with his wrists sutured and bandaged.

  I could hear the distant sounds of clanging pots and pans coming from the kitchen and the muffled voices of the family I loved. Yet those sounds gave me no joy. I was a troubled man and I felt utterly alone.

  And I felt scared.

  I rolled out of bed, threw on a robe, and then trotted downstairs.

  “Good morning, Daddy,” Zoe said when I entered the kitchen.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” I replied in as cheerful a voice as I could muster.

  “Mommy told us that Baxter’s going to be okay.”

  “Yeah, he’s going to be fine,” I said, cutting an eye at Phoenix, who was wolfing down milk and Cheerios.

  I made eye contact with Phoenix and said, “Let’s go look at bikes at the mall. You won’t have to borrow Baxter’s bike if you have one of your own.”

  “I wanna go, too,” Zoe squealed.

  “You can come along, Zoe,” Phoenix said good-naturedly.

  “No!” I quickly interjected. “Not today, Zoe. Some other time.”

  “Why not?” she asked, looking hurt.

  Sasha gazed at me questioningly, but I wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  With my eyes fixed on Zoe, I searched my mind for an explanation that would soften the blow of leaving her behind. “You know how you and your mother have girl-time, where you do girly things like getting your hair and nails done? Well, I want to spend some guy-time with Phoenix. Okay, Zo-Zo?”

  She nodded, but I could tell that she didn’t like being left out.

  I turned my attention back to Phoenix. “By the way, I want you to return Baxter’s bike while I’m upstairs getting dressed. If his parents aren’t home, then leave it outside their garage.”

  “Okay,” he answered nonchalantly. He turned the cereal bowl up to his lips and slurped down the remaining milk and then pushed away from the table.

  Seemingly without a care in the world, he sauntered to the living room. Whistling cheerfully, he went outside to retrieve the flashy bike that he’d blackmailed Baxter into giving him.

  I slowly climbed the stairs, confounded by his obvious lack of remorse regarding Baxter. Very much concerned about the moral character of the child who shared my DNA, I let out a sigh as I wondered if it was best to shorten the length of Phoenix’s visit and ship him back to Philad
elphia before he caused any more trouble.

  In the car on the way to the mall, Phoenix fiddled with the radio, searching for a hip-hop station. When he found a song he liked, he reclined his seat and relaxed.

  “I saw that video with Baxter,” I said solemnly.

  “I figured that,” he said tonelessly. “It was obvious that you went through my phone and deleted a lot of messages.”

  “Why, son? Why would you take advantage of such an easygoing and nonthreatening kid like Baxter? He practically worshipped you, yet you treated him horribly. Those texts you sent him were absolutely vicious, and resulted in him doing something unthinkable.”

  “I was only playing around with him. Honest.”

  “Playing around?” I scoffed.

  “Yeah.”

  “You exposed his sexuality to your friends and turned him into a laughingstock.”

  “He was already a laughingstock,” Phoenix said, defiantly justifying his actions.

  “Where’s your compassion? You taunted your friend about being gay and threatened to expose him. That’s wrong, Phoenix! And who’s the guy in the video with him?”

  “I don’t know. Some dude he met online.”

  “An adult?” I asked fearfully.

  “No, it was a boy his age…maybe a year or two older.”

  I was instantly relieved that Baxter wasn’t involved with an online predator. I reasoned that since his sex partner was a kid his own age, I didn’t have to concern myself with alerting the police. I definitely wanted to avoid saying anything that would result in Phoenix’s name being dragged through the mud.

  “Baxter thinks he’s in love with the video dude,” Phoenix confided with a chuckle.

  “There’s nothing funny about any of this. Your friend came close to bleeding out. Don’t you feel any sense of responsibility?”

  “Not really. It’s not my fault that he can’t take a joke.”

  “Yes, it is your fault. You taunted and bullied him and shared a sensitive video that he asked you to keep secret.”

  “Can we please change the subject? I don’t like thinking about that disgusting video.”