Shooting Matt Ch. 11

She looks at her husband. He can't work up a smile. He pats her cheek and then turns toward the board.

"Liam you take that side. I'll take this one. See the hand holds?"

Liam nods but refuses to look at Lee.

"Alright then, once you're ready, we'll lift, on three again. Lift with your knees. I only got one back board."

Matt is twenty pounds heavier than either of them but they get the board off the ground without too much trouble. Liam stumbles on a rock but recovers. They cover the rest of the ground without incident. Liam's arms are singing from the strain when they set the board down on the deck of the pontoon boat.

"Okay, babe. Head on back, real slow. I'll be right behind you," Lee tells his wife and then hops back on shore.

The trip back was slow but uneventful. Lucky for Matt, there was no wind to speak of and the lake was calm. Glenna listened to his story in disbelief. She couldn't see what would have set her husband off like that. The Lee in Matt's story was a stranger to her.

"I told him not to tell his parents," she tells the boys, after Matt finishes. "His dad will turn eighty in the fall. His mom just turned seventy-two. What on earth good could come of telling them? Lee brings it up from time to time. I tell him not to. He listens, or seemed to anyway."

"That's why he hit me," Matt says, talking to Liam, not her. "I'd have punched me in the mouth, too. I was giving him shit, hit a nerve, he cracked me one and I tripped. End of story. I'm not pissed at him. And if I'm not pissed at him, no one else should be."

"He hurt you," Liam offers as a defense.

"Yeah? Well I hurt him, too. It was an accident. Drop it. For me. Please?"

Liam nods.

The volunteer EMTs are waiting at the dock. All the guests have gathered, to helped, or on the off chance there's blood or a bone sticking out. They tell Matt they've checked with the local hospital and unless he's unstable they'll be taking him ninety miles or so into Pittsburg. He'll need an MRI of his spine and that can't be done here.

"Can you give him something for the pain, fellas?"

"Let me get an IV in 'em first, Lee."

"I'm going with him," Liam tells them. The head EMT, Fred, looks at Lee. Lee nods. Liam sees the nod and a bit of his anger drifts away.

"We'll follow," Glenna tells Matt.

"I'll stay here and keep an eye..." Lee starts.

"The hell you will," Glenna says, cutting him off. "I already called Marta. She'll cover the place. You're driving," she informs her husband. "And talking," she adds. Liam sees the look on Lee's face and another quantum of his anger dissipates.

"Poor fucker," he thinks to himself. "That's going to be a long fucking ninety miles."

***

It was, even though the first thirty or so miles passed in total silence.

"What was that all about?" Glenna asks finally, still staring out the window, unseeing. "We've talked about your parents. What good would it do? I always felt you were okay with that decision."

"It's not just that," Lee offers, eyes fixed on the road. "It suddenly dawned on me that I have stolen your life from you. I hated him for being the one to open my eyes to that fact." The world passes, unnoticed, beneath the tires of their Malibu. "I thought about picking up a rock, bashing his skull in, dropping the body in the lake and telling everyone he fell and drown, dove into shallow water and drown. The idea horrified me, in less time than it takes to tell it, but, still, it was there."

"What do you mean you 'stole my life'?"

"Just that. You wanted kids. I couldn't give them to you. You could have found someone who loved you, all of you."

"Don't you love all of me?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't," Glenna, insists.

"Loves having sex with you. Don't play dumb."

"Do you hate having sex with me that much? I've always known you dreamt of other things but it never seemed to me it was a chore for you. Was it?"

"Huh? No." The hum of the tires fills the silence between them. "It was," he hesitates, "surprisingly okay."

Glenna chuckles. There's no bitterness in the sound. "Wow, 'surprisingly okay'. Would it surprise you to know I've always thought of you as a wonderful lover? Caring. Gentle when I wanted gentle. Rough when I wanted rough and I never had to explain, to tell you what I wanted." She turns from the window and looks at her husband. "I knew, and accepted, I didn't have a cock for you to suck. I'm sorry about that but there's not much I can do about it."

"I love pleasing you. I owe you at least that much. I'm not saying I dread the idea of having sex with you. I don't. The idea of having sex with another woman has no appeal at all. But, you're not 'another woman'. I love you."

"So, then what you're saying isn't that you've stolen my life but that you've squander your own. Or do you feel like I've stolen it from you?"

"No! Not at all. Never! Nothing like that, Glen. Nothing. It's just; I can't imagine how you can be happy married to a gay man. How you can't imagine I'm hiding from the world, behind your skirts, if you will."

"Seriously?" There is an edge to her voice. "Do you have that little respect for me? Do you think I'm that pliant? That incapable of looking out for myself?"

"No. You're one of the strongest people I know," Lee whispers.

"Do you think I'm stupid then?"

"No. You know I don't."

"So, what's the problem then? If you're unhappy with your choice, fine. But don't make me complicit in it. We went around and around this before we married. You hid nothing from me, except maybe this wellspring of anger. Are you angry because you feel trapped? Responsible for me? Trapped out of fear of hurting me?"

"No."

"Are you lying to me? You said you were a coward. It's not a word I'd choose to describe you, but are you simply afraid to tell me you want out?"

"I am a coward, Glen. You're one of, what, four people who know I'm gay. You think hiding that makes me feel brave?"

"Hiding it? How? Unless you're trying to tell me that you only married me to hide the fact that you're gay. So, you haven't told anyone? Who the fuck cares? What do you imagine you need to do? Introduce yourself and then add, 'I'm married but gay'? How is that remotely anyone else's business?"

"It feels like I'm not being true to myself."

"How does being true to me make you untrue to yourself? If you were straight and had the hots for Marta but kept that desire to yourself, would that make you 'untrue' to yourself? You're gay. Fine, but you fell in love with me and I fell in love with you. Until today I thought that was enough. What are you saying, that you need some time to fuck men? What?"

"Glen, I'm don't know what the fuck I'm saying, babe."

The rest of the trip passes in silence.

***

Liam stares at the EMT, Roy, if he heard the other guy correctly. Roy is half-turned in the passenger seat, looking over his shoulder, in to the back of the rig, smirking. Liam is holding Matt's hand. The EMTs couldn't give him anything for his pain. Even Lee, licensed as a paramedic wasn't allowed to because he wouldn't be riding along in the rig. Glenna had run inside and given him four ibuprofens, which wasn't morphine but took the edge off. That, combined with exhaustion from stress, resulted in Matt drifting in and out of a hazy sleep.

"Can I help you, Roy?" Liam asks, finding it quite easy to turn his anger from Lee to the smirking ass wipe in the passenger seat.

"Not a thing you can do for me," Roy tells him; smirk widening. "I can pull the curtain if you two queer boys need a little privacy."

"Roy, shut the fuck up will ya? Just once try to act like you're not a total fucking asshole," the driver interjects.

"What are you going to do, Fred? Fire me? I'm a volunteer. Remember?"

"Just do the world a small favor and shut up."

"Relax. I'm just having a little fun." He turns back to Liam. "Right, queer boy?"

"Sure, Roy. How about a little fun when we get out of this ambulance, get my friend taken care of? Or are you too big a chicken shit, you fucking waste of space?"

"Oh, that sounds like the best idea I've heard in ages. Queer boy wants to fight."

"Roy, I swear to - "

"Shut it, Fred or I'll kick your ass after I kick his. Say, why don't you hit the lights? I'm kinda anxious to get where we're going."

Liam spends the rest of the ride holding Matt's hand. Inside, he's wrapping his anger up into a tight ball, a ball he can keep a handle on, control, use to his advantage. Roy's not the only one looking forward to getting out of the ambulance.

When they pull up to the hospital, Fred turns to Liam. "Son, just sit tight. Don't let this fool goad you. It's not worth it."

"Fred, for the last time. Shut the fuck up." He turns to Liam. "Fucking queers are overrunning the country. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy messing you up, you little cock sucker."

When they get out, Roy remains by the rig. He lets Fred wheel the gurney inside. They've called ahead so the ER doc is expecting them. It takes several minutes for Liam to get the paperwork straightened out. He gets a hold of Matt's dad, fills him in, making light of the situation. Mr. Anderson gets on the phone and answers the rest of the ER clerk's questions. Fred wanders over with a cop. The Pittsburgh PD keeps an officer in the ER. The hospital is not in a gentrified area.

"Son, I told the officer what's - "

Liam puts a hand on Fred's arm. Doing the whole process of getting Matt squared away, he's nursed his anger, groomed it, warmed it up. It's straining at the leash.

"Officer, would you mind helping me out for a couple minutes?" He asks the officer.

"Don't worry. I'll go out with you. Settle this clown down."

"Actually, I'm wondering, would you mind making sure I don't hurt him too bad? I don't want to go to jail over the piece of shit."

"Son," Fred protests. "Roy's bigger'n you and meaner. Let it go."

"I can't let you fight in public," the cop says, shaking his head.

"What about back in the ambulance bay? That's private," Liam asks.

"No. Come on. I don't have time for this."

Liam shrugs. He heads outside. Lee and Glenna are walking up the stairs that connect the ER with the parking lot.

Roy sees the cop behind Liam. "You got the law? You chicken shit faggot." He proceeds as Liam had hoped he would. He rushes him.

Liam doesn't hear the cop shout, or Lee. He sidesteps Roy's rush, and kicks him in the ass as he goes by. Roy, not the most intellectually gifted of men, had expected Liam to meet him head on, linebacker style. He turns and swings wildly. Liam ducks his head, almost casually. His jab connects with the point of Roy's chin; his head snaps back. He blinks, bewildered, swings. Liam leans back; the fist whistles past his face and spins Roy around, exposing his side.

Liam throws two, quick, hard jabs, the first over Roy's liver, the second further back over his kidney. Roy goes to one knee. Liam dances to stand in front of him. Roy lunges, tries to wrap his arms around the boy's knees, get him on the ground and crush him. Liam dances back and as Roy over balances and falls forward on his hands, Liam hops over the outstretch arms and kicks the man in the ass again, his toe landing right on the tip of his tailbone. He moves back, watching as the man lumbers to his feet.

Humiliation has not added to Roy's thinking skills; he rushes again. This time Liam doesn't step aside. He times it perfectly; throwing a roundhouse to the side of Roy's head that spins him around. The man flails and Liam plants three more jabs, two rights interspersed by a left to the man's chin, lips, then his nose. Blood sprays. And just like that, his anger is spent.

He steps back, looks at the sad buffoon swaying on his feet, turns and heads toward the ER doors.

"Arrest him," Roy squeals to the office; his voice nasal, congested with blood. "He attacked me."

"You attacked him," the officer corrects him. "The problem is you can't fight worth shit. Get your ass back in the rig and quit bleeding on my pavement."

Fred looks hard at his bleeding partner. "Here's what we'll do Roy," he says as he rummages in the back of the rig for a towel. "I'm not going to tell anyone about this. And you," he tosses the towel, "and you are going to realize that you're just too busy down at the Auto Mart to keep volunteering."

"Fuck you, Fred. I ain't doing shit."

"No Roy, Fred is right. Count your blessings and while you're at it, see if you can pull your head outta your ass." Glenna doesn't raise her voice. Roy opens his mouth, closes it when he sees Lee step to her side.

"Fred, you want to ride back with us?" Lee asks. "Roy can drive the rig back."

Fred shakes his head. "Naw, thanks for the offer. Roy and I'll be fine. I think it might be better if Roy takes a little nap on the way back." He turns away. "Roy, go inside and wash up. Here, take an ice pack for your nose."

"Fuck you," Roy snaps and heads toward the ambulance but he takes the ice pack.

"Bit of broken record, ain't he?" Roy sighs. "Drive safe you two. Best of luck to your friend."

***

"Dad, please, calm down and listen. I'm in the ER but I'm fine. Dad, shut up and I'll tell you!" he shouts.

Lee and Glenna give him room.

"Now, don't start yelling again. I'm fine. Matt fell and hurt his back. They sent him here to Pittsburgh to get an MRI. No, I don't know. He's still back there. Are you nuts? Just sit tight. I'll call you when I know something. There's no reason for you to jump in the truck and come racing down here. Yeah, fine, of course. Fine. I'll call you when I know something. Bye. Huh? Oh, yeah, I love you, too. Bye."

Lee and Glenna take a seat on one of the drab, worn plastic benches and watch Liam pace back and forth. When he joins them, he looks exhausted, though it's not even noon.

"Well, that went well," he tells no one in particular.

"Are his parents coming?" Glenna asks, as she puts one hand on his shoulder.

"No, I talked them out of it."

"Probably for the best. We're they real upset?"

"Yeah, no. I don't know. Calmer than my pop anyway."

"Well, sure. He's already blaming himself for suggesting you two come down here, you know."

"Yup. You got it." Liam leans his head into his hands. "He acts like every single thing in the world that goes wrong is his fault somehow. It drives me crazy. If Putin invades Poland, he'll figure it's because he didn't tip the waitress enough. Fuck."

"Was that me you were punching in the parking lot?" It's the first thing Lee has said to him.

Liam tilts his head to look at him. "Your nose broken?"

"No."

"Then, no, apparently, it wasn't you I was punching in the parking lot."

"What did Roy do?"

"Called me, called us, 'queer boy'."

"Sounds like Roy," Glenna says, softly. "He's cursed with just enough self-awareness to realize he's not that smart, not that nice and suspects this is as good as it gets for him. Too bad, really. He wasn't always like that."

"He wasn't always an asshole?" Liam snarls.

"No, he wasn't." Glenna's voice is low, sad. She continues to rub Liam's shoulder. "No. When we were kids he was a lot of fun. He loved to draw cartoons. The high school paper even ran a few of them. His folks couldn't afford to send him to college and with his grades, a scholarship was out of the question. He was a second-string athlete. He's worked as a glorified mechanic since we graduated. Of course, he hates you. You've got everything he's sure he'll never have, or thinks you do. No, hon, Roy wasn't always an asshole."

"You sound like you feel sorry for him?"

"I sound that way because I do feel sorry for him. The kid I knew would've never acted like that. How can I not feel sorry for the kid that used to like to draw cartoons, trapped inside that angry, frightened man?"

"Well, I don't."

"Anyone ever called you 'fag' or 'queer' before?" Lee asks.

"No," Liam shakes his head. After a moment, he adds, "but two days ago I wasn't out either."

"Hmm. You plan on beating up everyone who calls you one of those names in the future?"

"Maybe," Liam replies, eyes glued to a scuffmark on the floor.

"I have my doubts about that," Lee offers, mildly. "That's why I was wondering if you were throwing those punches at Roy, or at me."

"Maybe it was both of you. Is that what you want to hear? Yeah, I was still pissed at you. But that's not why I fought Roy. He's supposed to be there to help and he was gloating. He was enjoying the fact Matt was hurt. He thought I was some sort of pussy, so I kicked his ass. End of story."

"You said 'was', that mean you aren't still pissed at me?"

"No, it most fucking certainly does not. Why did you hit Matt?"

"He implied I was a coward. That hit a little too close to home. I was hitting myself as much as I was hitting him. It was stupid and I'm sorrier than I'll ever be able to express."

"Hmm," Liam mutters and resumes his examination of the floor.

It's another hour before they're allowed to go back and see Matt.

He tries to grin but it's clear he's stoned out of his mind.

"Are you family?" the doctor asks, glancing over one shoulder as he types at a computer station.

"Yeah, doc. They're family," Matt slurs from the bed.

"He's lucky," the doctor says, finally turning to talk to them. He says nothing when Liam crosses to the bed and takes Matt hand in his. "He has a hairline fracture of the spinous process of L4, that's the bony part that sticks up. The structures around the spinal canal are intact and the vertebrae aren't displaced. He mentioned having a 'pins and needles' sensation in his legs but his neuro exam is normal. The MRI doesn't show edema or contusion of the spinal cord. That's great, no that's terrific, news. I'm still going to put him on steroids to reduce the risk of swelling. I don't think he's going to need surgery or even a brace, unless it's to help with the pain. I want to keep him tonight, though. We'll check his neurologic function every couple of hours. If those are okay, he can probably go home in the morning."

"Can I stay with him," Liam asks.

"You can but I don't advise it. It's noisy. He'll be sleepy from the meds. You'll just be miserable. There's not room for a cot, so you'll be sitting in a chair. Do yourself, and him, a favor. Go home. Sleep. That's what he'll be doing. Come back in the morning and bring him pancakes or something."

"Can we wait until he gets settled?" Glenna asks.

"Of course," the doctor tells her, already making his way toward the curtain that closes off the bay they're in. "Shouldn't be long."

***

It was. Never go to the ER in the early morning. The day's discharged don't get out of the hospital until late morning. Then they need to clean the rooms. If you must have an emergency, make sure to have it late in the afternoon. But not too long after supper otherwise you'll find that all the recently emptied rooms will have been filled by the people who got to the ER in the early morning.

It was almost four in the afternoon when they got Matt upstairs. He was starting to wake up a little, which meant he was starting to hurt again. He was stuck in limbo. The ER didn't want to give him more pain meds and he wasn't on the floor yet, so the hospitalist covering the neuro floor didn't want to give him any pain medications either. Everyone involved, including the nurses and hospitalist, were tired and grumpy by the time he got to the neuro floor.

It wasn't a private room. The guy next to the window appeared to be missing half his head. He stared blankly. A thin tan-colored tube snaked from the bottom of a plastic jug of tan-color liquid and disappeared inside his left nostril. The nurse pulled the curtain, but not quickly enough. Liam wanted to stay, he did, but the sight of the man with the top and back of his head hollowed out in the next bed freaked him out. He didn't protest when Matt, Lee, and Glenna told him to leave. He felt shitty about it but he couldn't imagine sitting in a chair, trying to sleep, with the half-headed man lying on the other side of a curtain. He hoped Matt hadn't seen. If he had, would he be able to forgive him for abandoning him in this fucking freak show of a room?