A Chance at a New Life

It took a number of sessions over as many days but with patient instruction from Scott, who not only drilled him on methods but explained the underlying concepts, Alex got through the section. When they had finished, Alex asked: "How come a cop knows so much about math?"

"It's kind of a hobby with me" Scott told him. "I'm fascinated that letters, numbers, and symbols can describe the physical world, even things that no one knew until they saw it in the mathematics."

"Really? Like what?"

"Well for instance, scientists always believed that time passes at the same rate everywhere. But Einstein said that according to his equations for the theory of relativity, time flows differently in things that are moving."

"What does that mean?"

"Let's say one of two identical twins leaves the Earth, travels around in space, and then comes back. According to Einstein's equations the twin who travelled will have aged less than the stationary one. It's called The Twin Paradox. The age difference would be undetectably small unless the travelling twin moved at nearly the speed of light, and humans can't go that fast yet, but it's possible to propel subatomic particles at those speeds and that's how Einstein was proved right."

"I would never understand stuff like relativity."

"So what? No one understands everything."

"What don'tyouunderstand?"

Scott considered the question. "Multi-dimensional geometry. Women."

Alex laughed. "You don't understand women?"

"No. Of course no man understands women; they're complicated and we're not smart enough."

=====

Alex needed help with some of the other GED sections, and Scott was happy to provide it.

When Scott had been tutoring him for several months, Alex stopped during a study session and said: "I want to do something in return for all your help. Would you like to ride me tonight?"

"You keep the house clean and you're studying for the GED test, that's all the return I asked for. And I thought I made it clear that I didn't bring you here for sex."

"I wouldn't tell anyone."

"The answer is still no."

Alex put his pencil down. "I can't figure you out. You're letting me live in your house, you're feeding me and teaching me and even giving me an allowance, and you don't make me have sex with you. You're gay and I see how you look at me but even when I offer, you say no. What is it you want from me? You must wantsomething!"

"I want you to get your GED certificate."

"That's all? What's in it for you?"

"The satisfaction of giving you a chance at a decent life."

"Just satisfaction? That doesn't make any sense."

"Well ... maybe someday it will."

Scott enjoyed tutoring Alex, and he was gratified to see the difference it made. Not only that, he liked having Alex around; he looked forward each day to seeing Alex there when he got home. He stopped seeking other accommodations for his young lodger; he had decided to keep Alex with him as long as the boy wanted to stay.

Then one morning when he arrived at the precinct the Desk Sergeant called him over. "I hate to tell you this, but Alexander Prentice was arrested last night. He's being booked for prostitution." The Desk Sergeant told Scott that this was not the first time Alex had been seen coming out of an alley in the middle of the night accepting money from a man. "We know he lives with you so the undercovers ignored it at first, but they couldn't keep arresting the other pros and letting him slide."

Alex had often seemed tired these past few weeks, which Scott had attributed to the strain of keeping up with both his GED study and his housework. And when Alex had not appeared for breakfast this morning, Scott had assumed he was sleeping late. 'Some detective I am' Scott thought to himself. 'I was even going to reduce his household chores.'

He asked where Alex was.

"He's in a holding cell. We didn't want to put him in the tank with the older men."

Scott found Alex's cell and stood looking through the bars.

Alex looked back at him. "You don't have to say it; everybody's been telling me what a dipshit I am."

"How long have you been slipping out on me?"

Alex mumbled an answer.

"SPEAK UP!"

"A couple weeks ... about three."

"You couldn't go even a year without violating the contract you signed."

"Scott I'm sorry."

Scott was silent.

"Are you just going to stand there and look at me?"

"You made a promise to me and you broke that promise."

"I had to, you were doing so much for me and you wouldn't let me do foryouthe one thing I know how to do, so I wanted to make enough money for a really good present, something I couldn't afford on my allowance."

"The only present I wanted was to see you get a GED certificate. I even had hopes you might go on to college. Now that's all shot to hell."

"I know. I don't blame you for being mad at me."

"Mad doesn't half describe it. I should have known better than to take you in, but I thought you were through with your old ways. I was wrong; you won't change. So if you're expecting me to give you any help with this, forget it. I give up, I'm cutting you loose. You'll be assigned some overworked public defender who'll try to concoct a defense for a client who was caught red-handed. Fat chance he'll have. And at nineteen you'll be prosecuted as an adult. That means jail, not juvie. Of course the up side is that while you're in jail you'll still have food and shelter."

"Scott, I wish I could undo―"

But Scott was walking away. Alex watched his back recede, unaware that Scott had left in order to hide the tear that was running down his cheek.

=====

Later that morning, Alex was told that his arraignment had been postponed due to a full court docket. He sat in his cell for the rest of the day and all that evening, awaiting further news, but there had still been no word when he crawled onto the cell's thin mattress and spent a night of fitful sleep.

By the afternoon of the following day, he had resigned himself to a protracted wait. Rather than sit idle, he began to compose a statement of remorse, hoping it would help him at sentencing.

Suddenly Scott was standing on the other side of the bars. "Now listen to me, and listen well. Against my better judgement I've let the other detectives talk me into giving you one more chance. I called in a favor with the District Attorney: in exchange for a guilty plea she'll recommend that you be given probation. I'm taking you back in, but if you pull anything like this again I'll toss you out so fast you won't know what happened until your gorgeous ass hits the pavement. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"Whatdid you say?"

Alex was momentarily confused. Then: "Oh. I mean yes."

"And you'll go through another cycle of tests for STDs."

"Ok. Yes."

Alex was determined not to waste his second chance: He kept Scott's house immaculate and put increased effort into the GED study. He watched no TV during the week and only one hour on weekends.

For the first month, Scott barely spoke to him. Then the tutoring sessions resumed, but Scott remained cool despite Alex's attempts to reestablish their former closeness. Alex had treasured that closeness; it was the first time he had ever felt a real bond with anyone, and now he had to face the fact that through his own actions that bond had been destroyed.

=====

After six more months of preparation, Alex took the GED test. The morning his results showed up in the mailbox his hands shook so badly that he had trouble opening the envelope to see if it contained a diploma or an application for another try.

"I passed!" he yelled. "Even the math!"

Scott was in the kitchen, finishing his breakfast. He walked into the living room holding his cup of coffee. "Congratulations!"

Alex waved the GED certificate at him. "Now I'll be able to get a good job and pay you back all the money I owe for food and rent! I've been keeping a record."

Scott took a sip of coffee. "That's admirable. Lose the record. Our agreement was that when you get a good job you'll start paying your way, not that you'll be in debt to me."

It was not the forgiven debt that most struck Alex: "I thought that when I got the GED I'd have to leave. You mean I can stay?"

Though Scott's affection for Alex had long since returned, he was pretending otherwise. He did his best to sound indifferent as he said: "Yes. I suppose I can tolerate some more of your company."

"Could I ... I mean may I ... hug you?"

Scott abandoned the deception: "Yeah, I mean yes" he answered with a mischievous wink, putting his cup down.

The hug went on for a long time, Alex wasn't letting go. Scott gently pulled away. "Alex I have to leave for work." He drained his cup of coffee and picked up his car keys. "This evening we'll celebrate your diploma. I'll make reservations at a restaurant I go to on special occasions. The food there is spectacular. See you at 6."

=====

But 6 o'clock came and went, as did 7 o'clock, and 8, and hours more.

Scott came home early the next morning. Entering the living room, he saw Alex sitting beside the phone.

Alex had been there all night. He looked up at Scott with red-rimmed eyes. "Where were you, are you ok?"

"Oh Alex I'm sorry. We were dealing with a hostage situation, I've been running around nonstop since yesterday afternoon, I didn't even have a chance to sit down. And I didn't think to call you, I'm so sorry."

Alex's eyes glistened with pent-up tears as he said: "I thought you were lying injured or dead somewhere."

"Why didn't you check with the precinct?"

"You never said who you would tell that I was staying here, I didn't want to cause you any trouble."

"I've told everyone! If anything had happened to me you're the first one they'd notify! But you didn't know that. I'm so sorry." He began shuffling slowly toward the master bedroom, taking off his suit jacket. "I'll tell you all about last night, but right now I can hardly stay on my feet. I've justgotto lie down."

As he shambled along, the hand that held the jacket sagged lower and lower, until the jacket was dragging on the carpet. He didn't seem to notice.

Five minutes later, Alex looked into the master bedroom. Scott's jacket was on the floor, where it had eventually fallen from his hand. Except for the jacket he was still fully dressed as he lay fast asleep face up across the bed with his legs hanging over the side.

Alex picked up the jacket, shook it and hung it in the closet. Then he turned and looked at the quiet figure that lay before him. Scott's face, placid in sleep, was handsome even with its one-day growth of stubble.

After unlacing Scott's shoes and sliding them off, Alex lifted his legs and rotated him until he lay lengthwise on the bed. Scott muttered a complaint at the disturbance, but quickly fell back to sleep.

Alex loosened Scott's tie and unbuttoned his collar, noting how well his muscular body filled out the shirt. Next, Alex unbuckled Scott's holster and drew it off with the pistol it contained, having first verified that the weapon's safety was engaged. Then he unfastened Scott's belt and opened his pants.

He left the room and came back with the blanket from his bed. As he covered Scott he gazed at the man whose dark grey eyes had bored into him so menacingly in the interrogation room a year earlier but who regarded him these days with manifest fondness. Giving quiet voice to the feelings that had been growing in him these past few months, he whispered: "I love you."

=====

It was midafternoon and Alex had dozed off sitting on the couch, when he was awakened by fingers running through his hair. He turned his head.

Scott was sitting beside him, a warm smile on that handsome face. "You opened my clothes."

"Yes, so they wouldn't bind."

"And you covered me with the blanket from your bed."

"I would have had to wake you to get you underneath your own blanket. You were so exhausted I would never have forgiven myself if I had disturbed your sleep."

"You could simply have folded the sides of my blanket over me."

"I didn't want to risk you getting tangled up if you moved around."

"I stay out the whole night, neglecting to phone, and you still show me all that consideration."

Alex longed to say aloud what he had whispered that morning. However he said only: "You shaved."

"And showered" Scott replied. "I also phoned the restaurant and explained why we weren't there last night. It was too late to get a reservation for tonight, I'll order from your favorite takeout place and we'll celebrate another time."

=====

Alex began an active search for employment. He was dismayed to find that in Tilmont's depressed economy his GED certificate was of little value; the best he could do was a job stocking shelves in a supermarket. The pay was low but he insisted on contributing most of it toward household expenses, brushing off Scott's objection that his contributions exceeded the cost of his upkeep. In addition, he continued to clean the house. He refused to let Scott help. "I can never repay you for all you've done, but I can at least keep your house clean and share my income. Have you ever done all this for anyone else?"

"No."

"Then why was Ispecial?"

"Because you had no one else and nowhere else and because, heaven help me, I like you more than I care to admit."

"What smells so good?" Scott called out as he walked through the living room early one evening on his way to lock up his weapon and change out of his business suit. Passing the kitchen, he saw Alex at the stove. "You're cooking?"

"Yes. We're always having takeout or a packaged combination from a convenience store. Feeding both of us that way is costing you a fortune. I figure if I bring fresh produce from the supermarket a few times a week and cook us dinner, it will help a little."

"You give me most of your pay and you clean the house, that's already alotof help. What are you making?"

"Something from your cookbook."

"I didn't know Ihada cookbook. My friend must have left it."

"I had to use some things that weren't in the recipe, to compensate for spices you don't have. I hope it'll be alright."

Alex had set the table earlier. He finished cooking while Scott changed clothes, and they sat down to dinner.

After taking his first mouthful, Scott said: "You thought this might be alright?"

Alex looked at him apprehensively.

"It's marvelous! Whatever substitutions you made wereinspired. You're a talented cook!"

Alex was exultant. He took on the task of preparing dinner every day. It was additional work but it was a welcome contrast to his menial job at the supermarket, and it gave him - he remembered a word Scott had once used: satisfaction. Now that word made sense to him.

He based the meals on recipes in Scott's cookbook, introducing his own variations. He timed everything to be ready when Scott got home.

The dinner schedule had been in effect for more than a year when one unusually snowy winter day, Scott did not appear at the expected time. Ever since the hostage night he had always phoned to report even a short delay, so as evening gave way to night Alex grew increasingly distraught, plagued by visions of cars skidding wildly on the slippery roads and colliding head-on with Scott. By eight o'clock he had made up his mind to call the precinct and was about to pick up the phone, when it rang. He grabbed it and in a voice loud with panic he said: "HELLO!"

"Alex?"

Alex was relieved - until he realized that the voice wasn't Scott's. "Yes" he said.

"This is Captain Davis at the Third Precinct. Scott has been wounded, he's in Tilmont Municipal Hospital. I've put you on the list of permitted visitors. Bring a photo ID."

"I don't have one."

"Ok, I'll fax them a mug shot from your arrest. Br careful driving."

"I don't drive. I'll call a cab."

"You wouldn't get a cab in this weather. Stay there, I'll send a squad car."

As a patrolman drove Alex to the hospital, he gave him a summary of what had happened: Scott, his partner and a backup team had been responding to a report of gunshots heard in an apartment. "When they walked in" the patrolman said, "the gunman opened up on them with a semiautomatic. Scott was in front. He was wearing a bulletproof vest but he got hit in some unprotected places before the backup team took the guy down."

When they reached the hospital entrance Alex did not wait for the car to come to a complete stop before jumping out and rushing inside. Ignoring the Receptionist who shouted after him that he must sign in, he searched frantically until he found a group of Scott's fellow detectives. "How is Scott?"

"We don't know. Their best surgeons are working on him."

It was an agonizing four hours before a surgeon came from the operating room and approached the group. He was bombarded with questions. He put up a hand. "Hold on, I'll tell you everything I can: Detective Henderson has made it through surgery. We were able to repair all the damaged organs except for his spleen, that one we had to remove. There were also compound fractures of his right arm and left leg; we put in plates and screws to hold the bones together and keep them aligned."

"So he'll be ok?" Alex asked.

"It's too soon to tell. He's young and healthy but his injuries were extensive and severe. At the moment it's touch and go."

"Can I see him?"

"When he's moved from Recovery to Intensive Care he can have one visitor, but the visit will have to be short. If he makes it through to morning we might ease those restrictions."

After a short discussion, the others agreed to let Alex be the one visitor that night.

An hour later, Alex was led to the Intensive Care Unit. There was a patrolman standing guard at the door, a standard precaution in that city for any law enforcement officer wounded in the line of duty. The guard reviewed his list and studied the faxed photo before allowing Alex to enter.

Alex's heart sank at the sight of all the wires and tubes connected to Scott, and the ventilator machine that was breathing for him. There was no chance of conversation even if Scott's throat had not been occupied by the ventilator tube, because he was heavily sedated.

Alex took Scott's hand and intertwined their fingers. Then he sat with him as liquids dripped into IV lines, a monitor on the wall beeped a slow heart rhythm, and the ventilator bellows rose and fell, until a nurse came in and said he would have to leave.

=====

In the days that followed, a succession of Scott's fellow detectives visited him in the ICU. They always found Alex there, holding Scott's hand and speaking softly to him regardless of the fact that he was still under heavy sedation.

At the end of what Alex would remember as the most anguished week of his life, he was elated to learn that the doctors now rated Scott's condition as Fair rather than Critical, a sign that Scott was no longer in imminent danger. A week after that, Alex was told upon arrival at the hospital that Scott's condition had been upgraded again and he had been moved to a private room.

When Alex got to Scott's floor, the attending physician was coming down the hall. The doctor was familiar with this young man who spent so many hours at Scott's side; Alex did not have to ask before the doctor gave him an update: "Detective Henderson is doing well enough that we've stopped the IV sedative. You can go in, but he'll sleep much of the time until the drug clears out of his system. That will take about a day."

Alex greeted the police guard and entered Scott's room. Scott was asleep, breathing quietly without the aid of a ventilator. Alex pulled up a chair and sat down. Worry had made sleep impossible most of every night for the past two weeks; now buoyed by Scott's improvement, he nodded off.