Omorphi (68 page)

Christy looked up at him, confusion plain on his face.

“Maybe I didn’t deserve to have things thrown at me, but I did deserve some crap for being nosy. C’mon. Let’s get to the arcade.”

C
HRISTY
burst into hoarse laughter as Jake won the third round of Foosball, and Sophia cheered.

Michael pointed at Jake with both index fingers. “You’re only pissed off because you went down hard on the air hockey, bro.”

“Aw, c’mon, you can’t blame me for trying to impress Sophia.”

She laughed and kissed his cheek. “No need! I am already impressed!”

Michael leaned down and kissed Christy’s cheek. “Are you doing okay?”

Christy nodded. “I have never seen such enthusiasm. It is as if you wish to win a war.”

“It’s an all-out war, and Michael just doesn’t know when to quit,” Jake teased.

Michael hooked an arm around Jake’s shoulders and kissed the side of his head. “You’re kidding yourself. I let you win.”

“Get off me, gay boy!”

Christy burst into hoarse laughter again.

“Okay, where do you want to go next?” Michael asked.

“I want to see Jerry and Lisa,” Christy answered.

“Where are they?”

Christy pointed to Jerry, who was shaking the life out of a pinball machine.

“Man, for a little dude, he’s got some serious action going on,” Jake admired.

“I want to see it!” Christy urged.

Michael wheeled Christy through the maze of excited people and wedged the chair between Jorge and George so Christy could see the machine.

“Hey, Jorge, how’s it going?”

Jorge shook his head at Michael. “If Jerry beats Lisa, we’re going to have a miserable night.” Lisa punched his arm hard, but he didn’t budge, immovable mountain that he was.

George laughed. “She’ll get over it. Can you see, Christy?”

Christy stretched up and could almost see the face of the machine. He nodded.

“Here, sit on my shoulders.” Jorge bent to lift Christy from the chair, and Michael caught the panic-stricken look on his face. Michael quickly stayed Jorge with a gentle hand, leaned in, and whispered. “Thanks, Jorge, but he’d rather not.”

Jorge abruptly straightened. “Oh, sorry.”

Michael stroked Christy’s curls, and Christy reached for his hand and held it in a vice grip. “Don’t take it personally, man. Give him time to get to know you.”

“Sorry, Christy. Didn’t mean to get in your personal space.”

“Thank you for the offer,” Christy said, surprisingly calm.

Jorge leaned close to Michael. “What happened to him?”

Michael met Jorge’s eyes. “Seriously bad shit that left him afraid of everything. He’s getting better every day, though. He even hugged Jake a week ago.”

“Like
serious,
serious shit?”

“The worst, but he’s working it in his own way.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Just give him time to get to know you.”

“I can dig that.”

The pinball machine went crazy, and Jerry shouted to the heavens. “I won, I won!”

Lisa growled. “This time, little man, this time. I call for a rematch,” she sneered.

“Ah, okay. I-I-I didn’t mean to make you mad,” Jerry stammered.

Lisa broke into her toothy grin. “Had you going there for a minute, didn’t I?”

“Well, y-y-yeah, you’re, like, giant-sized!”

Lisa cracked up. “You won fair and square, but we’re still on for a rematch.”

“Don’t forget, you owe me, Lisa,” George said in her soprano voice.

“I know, but today’s Christy and Jerry’s day. You and I’ll duke it out another time.”

Christy pulled Michael down and whispered into his ear, and he smiled. “Yeah, we can go do that now. Hey, who’s up for the Ferris wheel?”

Everyone cheered except Jorge, who seemed to turn a little green around the gills. “I’m not up for heights, if you know what I mean.”

“I will do the painted horses with you,” Christy offered.

“The carousel,” Michael clarified.

Jorge smiled. “You’re on, man.”

“W
E
NEED
one that’ll seat two,” Michael said as he walked Christy through the horses with an arm around his waist. Christy trembled with excitement like a kid seeing Disneyland for the first time.

“Here’s one,” Jorge called from a couple of horses ahead of them.

“Perfect. And it’s even a pinto.”

Christy did his odd, one-brow frown as Michael hoisted him into the saddle sideways and buckled the safety belt around him. “Now turn your upper body and hold onto the pole.”

Jorge climbed onto the large, white, rearing stallion right next to them, gave Christy a lazy salute, and hollered, “Hi-yo, Silver! Away!”

Michael climbed on behind Christy and shouted. “Git-um up, Scout!”

Christy looked over his shoulder at Michael. “What does this mean?”

“It’s from
The Lone Range
r, an old western TV show. The Lone Ranger rode a white horse named Silver.” He gestured to Jorge’s horse. “And his trusted friend, Tonto, rode a pinto horse named Scout.” He gestured to their white-and-brown spotted horse. “The Lone Ranger would yell ‘Hi-yo, Silver! Away!’ and Tonto would yell ‘Git-um up, Scout!’ and they’d go off riding across the range.”

“What is pinto?”

“It’s a spotted horse, or what they call a painted horse. It’s mostly white but has big patches of any other color, like the one we’re on.”

Christy studied the body of the horse and the horses around them. “What kind of horse is Lisa’s horse?”

Michael looked around and found Lisa sitting right behind them. “That’s an Appaloosa because it has small spots, like a leopard.”

“And Jerry’s?” Christy pressed.

Jerry sat on a plain black stallion. “I don’t know. Jerry, what kind of horse are you sitting on?”

Jerry shrugged. “Black.”

“It’s a quarter horse,” Jorge decided. “Good for racing.”

“And Stephen’s horse?” Christy continued to press.

“Um, his looks like buckskin.”

“And Sophia’s?”

“Palomino.”

“Ah, no, it is the same as Stephen’s horse,” Christy corrected.

“Uh-uh. It has a flaxen mane.”

“How do you know this crap?” Jake asked Michael as he climbed on behind Sophia.

“Same answer as last time, bro. It’s just where my brain goes.”

Christy studied the horses again before looking up at Michael. “Have you ever seen a horse?”

Michael had to think about that. “Mmm, I rode a pony once when I was a kid. That’s a small horse.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was okay. They’re kind of smelly.”

The carousel lurched and began to move, and a surprised gasp escaped Christy’s lips.

Michael hugged him tight. “Here we go!”

Christy and Michael rode the carousel four times before Christy would even consider getting off it. Only the allure of the Ferris wheel enticed him to move on.

“I wish to have one of these,” Christy announced as he gently seated himself in the wheelchair.

“What? A carousel?” Michael asked.

“Yes.”

Jerry cracked up. “Right. Where you going to put it? In your backyard?”

“Yes.”

“That must be some big yard you have there, Christy,” George said.

“I have one big enough.”

Michael began to worry Christy would inadvertently reveal too much about himself and changed the subject. “How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?”

“I am fine.”

“Answer the question.”

“A little pain.”

“Do you want Tylenol?”

“No. I want to ride the Ferris wheel.”

A
S
THE
Ferris wheel began to turn and they rose slowly into the air, Christy’s knuckles went white as he gripped the safety railing in front of them. Michael put an arm around him, and a tremor transcended his arm.

“You okay?”

“
Ne
,” Christy breathed.

“That means yes, right?”

Christy nodded as he scrutinized the wheel from top to bottom and looked out over the horizon as they rose higher and higher into the air. When they reached the pinnacle and began to descend, Christy reached for Michael’s hand.

Michael laughed softly. “It’s okay.”

“It is going faster.”

“Yeah, it’ll speed up.”

“How fast?”

“Not too fast.”

Christy’s hair trailed behind him in the afternoon breeze as they began to ascend again. The look on Christy’s face was one of utter rapture, and Michael thrilled at the prospect of having brought a little slice of happiness into Christy’s life.

When they rounded the apex for the tenth time, and the wheel began to slow, Christy was devastated. “It is over? This is it? Only ten times around?”

Michael chuckled. “Do you want to ride again?”

“Yes!”

Michael paid the man for two more rides, and they slowly ascended as people filled each car behind them. When the wheel came to a lurch at the top, Christy gripped Michael’s hand again. “It’s okay. They’re just loading the cars behind us. See?” Michael pointed downward.

Christy glanced down and then looked out over the horizon and up at the sky. “It’s like we are in heaven.”

Michael kissed his cheek. “Heaven for my angel.”

A shy smile flickered on Christy’s lips as he looked out from high above. “I feel so free. It is as if nothing can touch me when I am up here. I am safe forever.”

Michael didn’t like the way that sounded. “You are safe, babe. Now, and forever.” Christy turned to him, and Michael couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. “What?”

“You cannot say things like this, Michael. Something could happen.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

The wheel lurched forward, startling them both from their serious conversation.

“I
T
’
S
about time,” Lisa griped when Christy and Michael stepped off the Ferris wheel.

Michael chuckled as he helped Christy into the wheelchair. “Sorry, Lisa. He couldn’t get enough.”

“I love it!” Christy exclaimed, his voice hoarse.

“Well, I guess.”

“Christy!” Sophia trotted over. “Did you like it?”

Christy responded in excited Greek, and she smiled and leaned down and hugged him. “Good for you!”

“Who’s up for a roller coaster ride?” Jake asked.

“I am!” Jerry exclaimed.

“Did they let you on the Ferris wheel with your cast?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, Lisa talked to the guy and made it happen!”

“I don’t know if they’ll let you ride the roller coaster,” Stephen said.

Happiness left Jerry’s face. “Why not?”

“It’s called liability,” Jake explained.

“I’ll talk to ’em,” Lisa said.

“Why would that make a difference?” Michael asked.

“’Cause one of ours runs it just like the Ferris wheel.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, Mike. I’m telling you, you need to broaden your horizons. It’s fun to hang out with me.”

“Right? Where are Gav and Noah? I thought they were going to come.”

“They wanted some alone time. They both took the whole damn bashing thing pretty hard.”

“I get that,” Jerry said with emphasis.

“Gav still doesn’t believe they caught Jason. He’s running around like a scared pup, lookin’ over his shoulder every five seconds.”

“They caught Jason?” Stephen asked, astounded.

Michael, Jake, and Lisa exchanged conspiratorial looks.

“Yeah, they did. Last night,” Michael confirmed.

“Where?” Jerry asked.

“Down in the city.”

“Where?” Jerry repeated.

“Near Harlem.”

“That’s, like, four hours away. What was he doing down there?” Stephen asked.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Michael lied quickly.

“The newspaper said they were going to charge him with attempted murder for bombing your car. Did they?” Jorge asked.

“He didn’t make it, man,” Jake said pointedly meeting Jorge’s eyes.

Jorge’s forehead wrinkled momentarily and then smoothed. “What happened?”

“He was shot when he attempted to run from the police. He died later at the hospital.”

“Holy crap,” Jerry said.

“That’s a little extreme,” George added.

“Depends on what he was doing,” Jorge added.

“Enough Jason talk. We’re supposed to be having fun here! I say we ride a roller coaster!” Michael announced.

Christy looked up at him, the afternoon sunshine sparkling in his eyes. “What is this?”

Michael pointed. “That.”

C
HRISTY
nervously watched the cars streak by. “This does not make you sick in the stomach?”

“It does some people. We don’t have to go on it if you don’t want to.”

“It would not be fair to you.”

Michael squatted next to Christy’s chair and rested a forearm on a knee. Brushing a ringlet behind Christy’s ear, he said, “I can’t count the number of times I’ve been on this thing since I was a kid. Don’t worry about it. We’ll wait down here for them.”

“The people are screaming.”

Michael laughed softly. “Yeah, it’s a little scary for some people.”

“I don’t believe I want this.”

“We’ll hang out down here while they go on it.” Michael stood and turned toward the line. “Hey, Jake!” he shouted and waved. “We’re going to hang back!”

Jake gave him a thumbs-up as Sophia turned worried eyes to them. Michael gave her a thumbs-up in return, and she offered a small smile.

A balloon artist approached, his arms and neck ringed with tied and twisted balloons in every color of the rainbow. “Well, ain’t ye jes’ the prettiest little thing!”

Christy nearly leaped from his chair and leaned away from the man.

The African American man was ancient, wearing a threadbare tuxedo with tails and an equally antique top hat over his white hair. His kind manner and smile drew you in, and you knew he would warm any child’s heart in an instant. “What would ye like me to make for ye on this fine, sunshiny day, little miss?”

Christy flushed a pretty rose, thrilled that the old man had mistaken him for a girl, and shook his head quizzically as he looked up, not understanding the question.