This is a story about gay love. If reading such things is offensive to you or if it is not legal for you to read it at your age or where you live, then proceed at your own risk. This story is fiction and all people, places and events are purely a product of the author's imagination. The author retains all rights.
If you like, you may write to me at this address: sanansaattaja2003@yahoo.com I welcome your comments.
Sam, chapter 7
"Hello, I'm Dr. Jordan," the doctor said to them. "First of all, let me assure you that Jay will probably be alright again in a few days. Physically, anyway. He has received a pretty severe concussion, and as you know, he has a very nasty bruise on his face, and the one eye will be swollen shut for awhile. The eardrum on the side where he was hit has burst as well, from the force of the blow. We were afraid at first he might have some bleeding inside the skull on the side of his head where he was hit, putting pressure on his brain. But that doesn't seem to be the case. There is some swelling in the brain anyway, as a result of the blow to his head. But it should gradually go down, and he shouldn't have any lasting effects from it. Besides his head injury, he has a very nasty bruise on his right buttock and one on his left thigh. I'm suspecting he has suffered a pretty severe emotional trauma as well, which sometimes takes longer to recover from than physical injuries."
"Now," Dr. Jordan continued, "I need to ask you what happened to him, exactly?" He directed his question to Jay's mother.
Mrs. Evans began stammering, "Well, um, he, uh, he... he fell, you see. I don't just know how... what happened. I was in the kitchen getting supper on the table when it heard it, and when I ran into the entryway I saw him lying on the floor moaning." That last part came out almost in a breathless rush. She was looking very uncomfortable, and her tears started flowing again.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Evans," Dr. Jordan said, not unkindly, "but I have very good reason to disbelieve you. He was hit, wasn't he? I would venture to say someone hit him, very hard, on the side of the head, probably with the flat of his hand. There was great force behind the blow, indicating it was delivered by a person of considerable strength. His injuries are definitely not consistent with those one would suffer from a fall. I'm sorry. I would dare to suggest he was kicked also, causing the bruises on his buttock and thigh. Am I not right, Mrs. Evans?"
Irene was weeping hard by then, sobbing nearly. Sam stood with her arm around her, trying to give her some comfort, but she was weeping also.
"I must ask you if you know who did it?" Dr. Jordan said. "We are obligated to report injuries of this sort, especially when minors are involved, and also when it happens in the victim's own home. This is a very serious matter. There will definitely have to be further investigation. A repeat of this type of incident cannot be tolerated. Surely you understand that, don't you, Mrs. Evans? Please don't feel I am insensitive. I do feel for you in this situation, but I must confess that my sympathies lie even more strongly with Jay. I have no idea, really, what kind of a boy he is. I haven't had a chance to get to know him yet, to talk with him when he is awake and responsive. But no matter what kind of boy he is, no child deserves this kind of treatment."
Suddenly, Irene straightened up and looking directly at Dr. Jordan, she said, rather vehemently, "It was Jay's father who did it." And then, more softly, she added, "I swear, it's the first time he ever hit him. He has never been physically violent with any of us before."
"Thank you, Mrs. Evans," Dr. Jordan said, gently. "I appreciate how difficult this is for you, and how much it cost you to tell us the truth. Some people will be calling on you quite soon. You understand that, don't you?"
Irene nodded.
"Where is your husband now, Mrs. Evans?" he asked.
"I don't have any idea," she answered woodenly. "He left the house and drove away as soon as he had done it. I don't know if he may have returned home by now or not."
"Do you have reason to fear for your own safety, or that of any other family members?" he asked.
"No. Well, I don't think so. I... I don't know, sir," Irene sobbed, and then started weeping again.
"We will make sure that she and her daughter are all right, Dr. Jordan," Mack said, with steel in his voice.
"I'm glad to hear that, Mr..."
"McMillan is my name," Mack said, and added, "My daughter here is Jay's good friend."
"Like I said," Dr. Jordan continued, "there will be some investigation, and steps will have to be taken to assure that this doesn't happen again. Now, about Jay again. He has been admitted to the hospital, of course, and will be here for a few days, I would guess. He needs to be kept under close observation for awhile to make sure there are not any sudden and unexpected complications. Right now he is asleep. He's been medicated and I would venture to say he will be asleep for several hours, so there is little point in anyone visiting him tonight. You are welcome to come and see him in the morning, but preferably not before ten o'clock. Hopefully he will be more responsive tomorrow. You'll find him on the fifth floor in section C. I'm sorry I can't tell you the room number, but please check at the nurses' station as soon as you arrive. We have your telephone number, Mrs. Evans, and we will call you at once if there is any sudden change in his condition. Now thank you, and good night."
Dr. Jordan shook hands with the three of them and they each thanked him. Then without another word he turned and left the room.
As soon as the doctor had gone, Sam said, "Dad, I gotta call Lee right away."
"Yes, I'd say you must, Sam. I saw a payphone on the wall over by the admissions desk. Do you have any coins?" Mack offered.
"No, I don't, I'm afraid. I left my purse at home."
"Here, sweetheart, take these," he said, as he fished a few coins out of the pocket of his trousers and handed them to her.
"Thanks, Dad," Sam said, already running to the phone.
Sam quickly dialed the familiar number and after a couple rings someone picked it up on the other end.
"Wilson residence," Lee's mother said.
"Marge, it's Sam. Is Lee there?"
"Sam!" Marjorie exclaimed. "Lee's about gone out of his mind worrying about you. Where in the world are you? He's been calling your house every five minutes for the last hour or more."
"I'm at the hospital, Marge. I... we..." As she was saying that, she heard the sound of someone picking up an extension phone on the other end of the line.
"Sam!" Lee yelled so loudly that it almost made Sam's ear hurt. "Where... What's the matter? Why..."
"Lee, hon, please calm down. You'll break poor Sam's eardrum hollering into the phone like that," his mother admonished. "Give her a chance to explain."
"Like I said, I'm at the hospital," Sam said, "and..."
"Hospital!" Lee interrupted. "Sam, are you hurt? You're not sick are you?"
"No, I'm OK. Well, physically anyway. Oh, Lee, I wish you were here! I've wanted you here so bad this evening. Oh God, Lee, it's been awful! You can't believe how horrible it is."
"What in the world is the matter, Sam?" both Marjorie and Lee said at the same time.
"It's Jay..."
"JAY?" Lee cried out, sounding frantic.
"The doctor just said he'll be all right in a few days."
"Whatever happened to Jay?" Lee asked. "Did he get hurt? Is he sick? Oh God, he didn't get my bug, did he?"
"No, Lee, he was beaten. By his dad."
"Oh my God!" Lee began.
"Lee, hon, I hafta go now. My dad and Jay's mother are waiting for me and we're going to leave now. The doctor said we can see Jay tomorrow. He's sleepin' now. Oh Lee, I need to see you so bad. I'll come over as soon as I get home, OK?"
"OK." Lee said.
"We'll wait for you to tell us everything when you come then, Sam. Thanks for calling," Marjorie said.
As soon as Jenna had eaten all she wanted of her supper, Sharon led her back to the couch in the nearly dark living room and they sat down together like they had been earlier, Jenna leaning against Sharon with Sharon's arms around her, holding her close. Jenna started crying softly again, and Sharon did her best to comfort her, crooning to her and smoothing her hair with her hand and kissing her now and then on the forehead, rocking her gently in her arms. After a while, Jenna fell asleep, and Sharon continued to hold her, rocking her, wishing she could absorb all her hurt just by holding her in her arms, relieving her of it forever. "Oh God, please let Jay be all right again, and please comfort this precious girl," she prayed, again and again, silently, there in that dark room.
Sharon's mind turned repeatedly to those at the hospital, wondering how it was going for Jay, and how the others were managing, wondering how long it would be before she heard something, how long before they came back to the house again. She knew that hospital emergency rooms could be interminably slow sometimes, the waiting almost endless. All one could do was to exercise patience and just keep on waiting. All at once Sharon became aware, for the first time really, of the grandfather clock in the far corner of the living room and its relentless ticking, at its same unhurried, never-changing pace: Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock... There was something almost hypnotic about it and at the same time soothing. She just let it wash over her there in the darkness, rather like the endless waves rolling in over the sand on the beach. Suddenly, after a long time, she gave a little jump when the clock began to chime the hour. She counted. Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Eight o'clock! "Oh God," she thought to herself, "I wonder how much longer it will be? Please let them come soon." But again, the clock just kept repeating its monotonous tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, and she kept on waiting.
Suddenly, Sharon gave another jump, more pronounced this time, not from a sound she heard, but from a thought that intruded on her mind out of the darkness, unannounced. "Mr. Evans... Where was he? What if he came home all of a sudden, before the others come back? What is he like? What kind of a beast is he? What will he do? Oh God!" And she shivered with fear. Sharon was not a coward, not at all. But at that moment she shuddered in horror of Jay's dad returning home, the man who had beaten his son so badly and caused them all so much grief and heartache. "Please, Mack," she pleaded under her breath, "please hurry!"
Moments later, she heard the sound of a car stopping in front of the house...
Just minutes after the two cops had happened upon Gene Evans and his car and radioed in their report, several other police cars and an ambulance arrived on the scene, lights flashing, sirens wailing. But Gene was unaware of all the commotion. He was still unconscious, slumped over his steering wheel. While waiting for reinforcements to come, the first two policemen had checked him over enough to ascertain that he was alive and breathing and searched for his wallet in hopes of being able to establish his identity. The wallet, of course, was missing and they assumed that explained why he was unconscious and bleeding from a blow to the back of his head. He was the victim of a robbery. But they were nearly sure he was also the perpetrator of that hit-and-run. Since his wallet was missing, his driver's license was also gone, as well as other identification, like his social security card, and credit cards, etc. From the registration papers for his car which they found in the glove compartment, they learned his name, or at least the name of the car's owner, assuming that he was the owner. But the address given was out-of-state. Alabama. They then checked the license plates on the car, and sure enough, they too were Alabama plates. It might prove difficult to find out if the unconscious man there in the car actually was the Eugene William Evans listed as the car's owner. Until he woke up, that is. If he woke up.
In due course, Gene was taken by ambulance to the hospital. (Not, however, the same hospital where his son Jay was a patient.) There, after being examined, he was admitted and put in a private room with a policeman guarding the door, since he was, in effect, under arrest, and would be held for questioning regarding that hit-and-run incident. The authorities could only bide their time, hoping that he would regain consciousness by morning so they could begin questioning him. His car, of course, was towed away and impounded. It would need to be examined more thoroughly by crime technicians.
When Sharon heard a car pull up to the curb in front of the house, a feeling of relief flooded over her first, and then a wave of heart-pounding fear. Suppose it wasn't Mack and the others? What if it's Jay's dad? She held her breath, waiting, steeling herself for whomever might come walking in through the front door in the next moments. She heard voices, then, faintly, as whoever it was came up the walk. Voices. More than one. She couldn't hear them well enough to tell whose they were, but at least it wasn't one lone man out there. And then, the door opened and she heard her beloved Mack's somewhat worried voice calling into the dark house, "Sharon?"
Forgetting about the sleeping Jenna beside her, in her arms, she cried out, "Mack!" And then more calmly, "We're in here, Mack, in the living room."
Jenna stirred and tried to lift herself up, "What... Who..." And then her mother was there in front of her, pulling her up into her arms.
"Jenna, honey..." she started to say, and then began weeping.
By that time Mack and Sharon and Sam were also standing together, in a tight three-way hug.
"Mom, where's Jay?" Jenna started to ask, and then, loudly, almost hysterically, "Where's Jay? What's happened to Jay?" and began wailing.
"Relax, honey," Irene soothed through her tears, hugging her tight. "Jay's in the hospital, but the doctor said he'll be OK. Jenna, calm down."
Eventually, composure was restored, and the five of them were all sitting in the living room, with the lights on now, and the three who had been at the hospital were filling Sharon and Jenna in on all that had happened there.
Finally, Mack said to Irene, "Mrs. Evans, I don't want you and Jenna to be staying here alone tonight. We can't take the chance of anything happening to you when, if, your husband comes home."
Irene started to protest, but Mack cut her off. "Surely, hopefully, he would do nothing to harm the two of you. But you didn't sound altogether positive of that yourself when you spoke to Dr. Jordan, as I recall, and I promised him I would look after you, make sure you're safe."
Immediately Sharon added, "Yes, Mrs. Evans. You and Jenna must come home with us for the night. We have plenty of room."
Irene looked unhappy, but she sensed it was useless to protest. And if the truth were told, she did feel a nagging fear. She honestly didn't know what Gene might be like, how he might react, when he came home, if he came home, that night and found out they had taken Jay to the hospital, that they had gotten strangers involved. She knew he would not like that at all.
"Well, just for this one night then." she relented.
"Good!" both Sharon and Mack replied at once.
Sharon put away the Evans' uneaten supper that was still sitting on the kitchen table while Irene and Jenna gathered together the few things they would need for a night away from home, and then she also tidied up the kitchen a bit. Soon the five of them were on their way to the McMillan home.
No sooner were they sitting in the car when Irene suddenly let out a little gasp and exclaimed, "Oh no! What if they phone from the hospital during the night? They promised to call me if anything happened, you know, if Jay got worse or something. They only have our number and we won't be at home."
"Don't worry, Mrs. Evans. You can call the hospital as soon as we get home and give them our phone number," Mack assured her, and she relaxed again.
"Um, I think you should start calling me Irene," she said, suddenly. She had never had many friends. They had moved so often, for one thing, and being a rather timid soul besides, she had never found it easy to make friends in the many places they had lived — usually for no more than a year or two — before they pulled up and moved on again. So she was not used to being on a first-name basis with people outside her family. But somehow, it seemed like these McMillans, who were so warm and considerate and helpful, who had done so much, and were still doing so much, for her and her children, should be considered as friends. The thought of having friends suddenly gave her a thrill of happiness. She could enjoy spending time with Mrs. McMillan, she knew, and it would be so nice to have a friend to talk to, to confide in, to spend time with and do things together with. But then she felt the nagging old doubts and insecurities again. Maybe they wouldn't like her? Once they got to know her, maybe, probably, they would feel bored with her. Surely they had dozens of friends already, and they wouldn't need her. Indeed, they couldn't need her, not like she needed them. She would just be a nuisance to them. True, they had been very kind tonight. They had done so much for Jay and for her and Jenna. They were amazing. But no doubt that's just because they were such wonderful people. Selfless and caring. Not because they had any need or desire to be friends. Surely not with her.
"Yes, definitely, Irene!" Sharon exclaimed at once, warmly. "And I'm Sharon, and this is Mack. And of course you know Sam. Well, Sally Ann actually. But no use calling her that. She's been Sam for years! I hope you will consider us your friends, Irene. We would be delighted for you to be our friend."
Irene was so moved, she began to cry again, silently, there in the back seat of the car. She hadn't cried so much or so often for years as she did that night. But these were tears of happiness, for once. She had had so little cause for happiness for such a very long time. Well, her children, her beautiful, smart, well-behaved children always gave her happiness, she reminded herself. But, she thought, with shame, she had not really been the mother she should have been, and would like to have been, to them. She had always been in such bondage to Gene. Oh God, it had all been so complicated.
By then, they were pulling into the McMillans' driveway.
No sooner had the car come to a standstill when Sam said, "I'm runnin' over to Lee's," and without waiting for an answer, was on her way as fast as her legs would carry her.
Sharon showed Irene and Jenna to a spare bedroom with twin beds where they would sleep that night. It was, or had been, obviously a boys' room, judging from the décor and various mementos left behind on shelves and desk tops, but it was tidy and clean and comfortable. "Sam's room is right next door," Sharon explained, "and you can share the bathroom with her; it's just down the hall and on the right. Help yourselves to towels from the cupboard in the bathroom, and please make yourselves at home. As soon as you're settled, come to the kitchen and we'll have a hot drink and talk for a bit before going to bed." Sharon then gave both Irene and Jenna a hug and turned to go.
As soon as the door had closed behind Sharon, Jenna burst out, "Oh Mom, she's so nice." Irene just nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks, and she and Jenna hugged each other hard for long minutes, standing in the middle of the bedroom.
When Irene and Jenna finally made their way to the kitchen, Sharon was just finishing putting away and cleaning up after the McMillans' half-eaten supper some hours earlier and Mack was standing at the stove making hot chocolate.
"Please have a seat here," Sharon said, gesturing toward the kitchen table. "Mack's making hot chocolate. Is that all right?"
"Oh yes!" Jenna cried out enthusiastically, and Irene didn't want to be a nuisance, but she found courage to say, "I'm sorry, but I can't have milk products."
"Oh, no problem, Irene!" Sharon hastened to assure her. "I'll put on the kettle then and heat water as well. Would you like tea?"
"Oh yes, thank you. Tea would be fine."
"Herb tea or regular?"
"Maybe herb tea would be best, this late in the evening, thanks! You are too kind to us, Sharon."
"Nonsense, Irene. This is your home while you're here. Please remember that."
"Thank you," Irene murmured again, wiping a tear from her eye.
Mack suddenly remembered to ask, "Irene, did you want to call the hospital and give them our telephone number?"
No sooner had Sam reached the front door of the Wilson home when Lee threw it open and pulled her inside, hugging her tight. He had been watching for the McMillans' car to return home and was waiting for her. Since Sam had called him earlier from the hospital, he had died a thousand deaths thinking about his beloved Jay lying, injured and hurting, in the hospital. He longed painfully to be with him, to see him, to hold him in his arms again, assuring him of his love for him, and assuring himself that Jay was alive and that he would be OK again. It was utterly inconceivable to him that anyone could want to hurt Jay. Dear, sweet, wonderful Jay, who had never hurt a soul in his whole life. But his own dad? Impossible! Over and over, he asked himself, "Why? Why? Why?" But no answer would come. He just couldn't wait for Sam to come, to tell him all she knew. Also, he had wondered a hundred times at least how it happened that Sam had known about Jay being hurt, how she had ended up at the hospital with him. He had so many questions for her.
Marjorie was as anxious as Lee to hear what Sam had to say, and the three of them sat together in the family room while Sam poured out the whole story, beginning from the moment when Jenna's strange phone call had interrupted their supper clear through to the ride home again, bringing Jay's mother and sister along to spend the night at their house. A myriad of emotions washed over her rapt audience of two while she shared all the gruesome details, but they kept mostly quiet, letting her talk. Only their faces expressed their intense feelings and reactions to what they were hearing. Even after she had finally finished, both Lee and his mother sat silent for some minutes, seemingly unable to speak.
At last, Lee said, "Sam, I've told my mom."
"Told your mom?" Sam repeated, obviously not knowing what he meant.
"That I'm gay. And about me and Jay," Lee explained.
"Oh Lee!" Sam cried, and threw herself at her friend, hugging him hard.
"I'm so glad I did, Sam. You can't believe what a relief it was when I'd told her."
"And I'm glad you did too, sweetheart," Marjorie assured him.
Then all three of them were hugging each other, as tears streamed down their faces.
"Oh my God," Lee moaned. "Poor Jay! I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. Oh Sam, please tell me it's not true. Tell me this is just a nightmare. Ever since you called me from the hospital I've been wishing I was dreamin' and that my alarm would finally ring and I'd wake up and find I'm lyin' in my bed and it'd be tomorrow morning and none of this would really have happened."
And just then something did ring. But it wasn't an alarm clock, it was the phone.
Marjorie answered it, "Hello.
"Yes, Sharon. Well, let's see, what time is it now? Not yet nine thirty.
"Yes, that's right, tomorrow is Saturday so the kids don't have school.
"OK, hon, I, we would love to come over. I don't think we would be getting to sleep very quickly anyway, you're right.
"Yes. Yes, certainly...
"OK, Sharon, we'll see you in a couple minutes. Thank you!"
And then she hung up the phone and told Sam and Lee, "That was your mother, Sam, as you noticed. She would like us all to come over there for awhile. She felt it would be good to all be together right now, and also to meet Jay's mother and sister. No one over there feels like going to bed yet, she said. Everyone is in a daze."
"I'm so glad Mrs. Evans and Jenna will get to meet you, Marge, and you too Lee, since you have designs on Jay!" Sam said, giving Lee a slap on the arm, making him blush. "No, seriously, I have a feeling they really need some friends. Especially now, of course. But even in the future too."
And so they all went next door.