Omorphi (72 page)

“Fuck!” Lisa yelled.

“Shit!” George yelled.

“Assholes,” Jorge added his two cents.

“Jake, you all right?”

“We’re okay.” He helped Stephen lift a drenched Jerry to his feet.

“I think that was Duncan,” Jerry eked out as he rubbed blood from his face with the hem of his T-shirt.

“I thought he was in juvie,” Stephen snapped.

“I don’t know if he still is. I haven’t been home since the night he beat me up, remember?”

“Are you all right?” John asked everyone as he trotted over.

“We’re okay, but you better call the police before we go hose off in the locker room. This stuff is blood,” Michael griped.

“Lord Almighty. All of you stay where you are so we can collect evidence.” John strode purposely back to the SUV and spoke with the second guard, then flipped the SUV’s back hatch open. They returned with four small boxes and a large, clear bag of what looked to be white towels. They quickly opened the boxes and withdrew four syringe-type Steripens. John went to where Michael stood and applied the tip of the syringe to the small puddle of fluid between Michael’s shoelaces. He gathered just enough blood to fill the tip of the syringe and went to Jake and did the same with a second Steripen. The second security guard duplicated the effort with Jerry and Lisa.

The guards returned to the boxes, docked each Steripen in a small, round stand, and set the timers on their watches. John made a call and spoke quietly into the phone.

“What are those?” Michael asked the second guard.

“Stat HIV tests. We’ll know in fifteen minutes whether the blood is HIV positive.”

“Slick. You guys are better than Boy Scouts.”

The guard gave Michael an odd look.

“I meant that you’re prepared.”

“We try to be.”

“What’s your name?” he asked the guard.

“Andrew Smith.”

Smith.
Right
. “Thanks for being here.”

“Just doing our jobs, sir.”

Sir?
“Michael. Just Michael.”

John terminated his call, walked back to the SUV, and picked up another box and returned to where they stood. This time he gathered a large blood sample from a puddle on the pavement.

“What’s that for?” Michael asked.

“To test whether it’s animal or human blood. This one has to go to the lab.”

“This much blood can’t be human.”

“Probably not, but we don’t want to take any chances.”

John reached into the large, clear bag and withdrew a camera. He took several photographs of them where they stood, the area around them, and the condition of the nearby vehicles. He returned the camera to the bag and withdrew Steri-Wipes, individually wrapped and sealed in clear plastic. “I’m going to give each one of you a towel. Please open the bag at the perforated edge, wipe your hands and faces off carefully, and return the towel to the plastic bag.

By the time each of them had wiped their faces and hands, John’s watch sounded, signaling the stat HIV tests were complete. He and Andrew checked each test, made notes, marked each syringe and dock with a number and name, bagged the tests, and returned them to the large clear bag. They collected each of their bagged towels, labeled the bags with an indelible marker, and added those to the big plastic bag and sealed it.

“Do we get to know the results?” Jake asked.

John gave Jake a long look. “All negative, but keep in mind that they’re stat tests.”

“Margin of error?” Michael asked.

“Very small.”

“We can’t go home like this. Can we go rinse off in the locker room?”

“We’re waiting for campus security and the school liaison officer.”

Jake suddenly cursed under his breath.

Michael turned to him. “What?”

Jake pointed to the media van headed down the street toward them.

“How the hell did they find out so fast?”

“Obviously somebody called them,” Jake said in disgust.

“Everyone, double-time to the locker room!” John announced.

T
HEY
made it to the gym just as the media van pulled into the lot. The gym doors were locked, and Michael sprinted around the side of the building and banged on the back door. “Coach! Coach! Open the door!”

After a few seconds, the door swung wide. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Open the gym door, Coach! Quick!”

Coach O’Malley strode through the locker room and crossed the gym floor, sorting through the keys in his hand as he went. “What happened?”

“Get everybody inside and I’ll tell you! Hurry! Hurry!”

Coach quickly unlocked and opened the double doors, and everyone scrambled inside.

“Lock the doors!” Michael shouted.

Coach quickly complied and then turned back to Michael and Jake. “What the hell is going on?”

They took a few moments to explain, and Coach only shook his head in disgust. “Didn’t campus security show up?”

“We were waiting for them and the school liaison officer when the media van showed up,” Michael explained.

Coach pulled his cell phone from his pocket and made a call. “They’re in the gym with me, and the press is outside.” He hung up. “They’re on their way.”

“Oh my God! I gotta do something about my cast! Dr. Sattler will be real mad if he has to redo it again!” Jerry blurted.

Michael looked at it and could tell that parts of it were already starting to get soft. “Is your arm okay? Are you in any pain?”

“Yeah. No. I mean, I’m fine, everything’s okay, but he’s gonna be so mad if he has to redo it again. I don’t want to be in trouble.”

“You won’t be in trouble. It has to be replaced. It isn’t clean anymore,” Michael said.

Jerry groaned. “Your dad is going to be real mad.”

“My dad will be happy we’re all okay.”

John’s phone vibrated in his hand, and he answered it and listened for a few moments. “Names…? Hold them until the police get there, and keep me apprised.” John hung up. “Does the name Duncan Ferguson mean anything to any of you?”

Everyone groaned, swore, and said very unkind things.

“He’s the kid who put Jerry in the hospital,” Michael explained.

“And Clarence Ferguson?”

“His older brother’s name is Clancy, and he’s in jail,” Jerry answered.

John looked at Jerry with one of those “are you sure” looks.

“Be easy, John. You’ll scare the little dude. If he says Duncan’s older brother’s name is Clancy, then it is, and maybe he got out of jail,” Michael defended.

John nodded and made a note in his small notebook.

Someone pounded on the door, and Coach O’Malley went to answer it with John close on his heels. It was campus security and a police liaison officer, who Michael hadn’t seen before. It took half an hour for everyone to give their statements, and by then they were seriously sticky and gross.

“Coach, we gotta shower,” Michael said.

Coach turned to the campus security guard. “Open the girls’ locker room.”

“Why?”

“For Lisa and George.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Coach stood very straight and towered over the security guard. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Do I look like I’m female? Unless you have a female to supervise them, I can’t open the girls’ locker room.”

“We’ll wait out here while Lisa and George shower,” Michael said quickly.

“I can’t do that, Michael. School policy.”

“Coach, we’re getting seriously ripe here, and we can’t go home like this.”

“I am not going to open the girls’ locker room,” the campus security guard insisted.

The glare Coach O’Malley shot at him would have dropped the sturdiest of marines at twenty paces. “Lisa, do you and George have clothes that you can change into?”

“I have sweats they can borrow,” Jorge volunteered.

“Go get ’em.”

Jorge jogged into the locker room and returned within moments with two pairs of sweats.

“We’ll be back in a flash, Coach O’Malley.”

“Thanks, Lisa.”

True to form, Lisa and George were back within minutes. “This’ll do for the ride home. We’ll have a redo when we get home.”

“Can I have your clothes, Lisa?” John asked.

“Everything but my boots. I need the boots to ride,” Lisa answered.

John held a clear plastic bag out, and Lisa dropped everything but her boots and socks in. George dropped her clothes into a bag held by Andrew. “Are we going to get them back?”

“After the police do their thing with them.”

“Get in there and get cleaned up, boys,” Coach ordered.

“John, can I have a plastic bag for Jerry’s cast?” He passed Michael a bag. “Thanks.”

“T
HIS
is just BS,” Michael said softly as he undressed and threw his sweats into a pile on the floor.”

“Seriously,” Jake agreed.

“I need to borrow a pair of sweats, man. I don’t have anything here after being gone for a week.”

“No problem.”

They headed to the showers, where Stephen struggled with the plastic bag for Jerry’s cast.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. My dad’s going to have to replace it.” Michael put the bag over Jerry’s cast and tied it around his arm.

“I want to try to save it,” Jerry pleaded.

“You can’t. It’s not sanitary. Do you want help with your hair?”

“I’ll get it, Michael,” Stephen said.

Michael gestured a “go for it” motion. They showered within minutes, leaving rivulets of pink-stained water to wend their way down the drains.

“I still don’t feel clean,” Stephen said as he and Jerry met Jake and Michael at their lockers.

“Neither do I but, like Lisa said, we can do a redo at home,” Jorge said as he joined them.

“Come on, little dude, let’s get you to my dad’s office so we can get you a new cast,” Michael said.

“Seriously? He’s going to be so mad after making a new one yesterday.”

“He’ll get over it when we tell him what happened,” Michael reassured as they walked back into the gym. “Thanks, Coach.”

“No problem. I’m glad I could help. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Yeah, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait until we make sure the media is gone,” John ordered as they headed to the door.

Michael held his hands up in mock surrender. “Go for it.”

John was back within moments and motioned them out the door. They trudged back out to the parking lot.

“Hey, Lisa?”

“Yeah, Mike?”

“Was Smitty upset when we left the restaurant last night?”

“No, Mike. Why do you ask?”

“You sure?”

She stopped when they reached her bike. “Yeah.” She rubbed her forehead and weighed her words carefully. “Years ago, before I was born, he lost one of his kids to a drowning accident in the lake. He owns most of the rides on the boardwalk and gets seriously anxious if something happens to a kid. He’s got a real thing about protecting kids, that’s all.”

“You weren’t in trouble or anything, were you?”

She smiled and shook her head. “He’s just seriously protective, Mike. You’ll see when you get to know him.”

Michael wasn’t sure he wanted to get to know a serious biker and semimafia type guy but gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks for everything, and thank him too.”

“Will do, Mike. See you and Christy tomorrow?”

Michael smiled. “Yeah.”

“H
E
KISSED
me!” Jerry bounced up and down in the backseat and held his glasses on his nose as Jake drove.

Michael chuckled as he looked into the backseat. “Chill, man. Do you have your seatbelt on?”

“Of course! Did you hear what I said?”

“We did.”

“Tell us all about it,” Jake encouraged.

“Well, see, you and Michael went to talk to Lisa, and George and Jorge left, and it was just, like, me and Stephen by Stephen’s car, and then he kissed me!”

“Was it like a little peck or a
kiss
kiss?” Jake asked.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Don’t encourage him.”

Jake winked at Michael. “Why not? He sounds like you did the first time Christy kissed you.”

Michael snorted. “Thanks, man. You always know how to make me feel good.”

“Always here for you, bro.”

Jerry wasn’t the least bit dissuaded by their exchange. “It was a real
kiss
kiss! With the tongue and everything!” he proclaimed.

“Excellent, dude, excellent,” Jake approved.

Jerry was suddenly unsure. “I hope I did okay. I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Michael and Jake shared an empathetic glance. “We’ve all been there, little dude. I’m sure you did fine,” Michael assured.

“How do I tell?”

“If he kisses you again, you did good.”

“He already did. I mean, he kissed me once, then I kissed him, and then he kissed me back. Like a third time!”

Michael chuckled. “Then it’s all good.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I think. Call Rob and tell him where you’re headed.”

“With what?”

“You don’t have a cell phone?”

Jerry just stared at him.

“Strike that. Evil science. I get it. I’ll call.”

“A
FISH
tank!” Jerry exclaimed.

“Standard ops in every pediatrician’s waiting room,” Michael assured. “Have a seat.”

“Where?”

“Purple chair. Matches your glasses.”

“I won’t fit in that.”

“You might tell my dad that.” Michael slid the glass panel that sealed the reception window off from the waiting room aside and met his mom’s eyes. “Hey, Mom.”

She squelched a small, concerned noise. “Hello, stranger. How are you?”

“Okay. Got a problem. Jerry needs another cast.”

“Why?”

“Some kids trashed us with blood after practice. His cast is ruined.”

“Blood?” She looked horrified. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine. It was probably some kind of animal blood. The security guards did the stat tests. No HIV or anything.”

Bobbie frowned. “Are you sure you’re all okay?”

Jake leaned around Michael’s shoulder. “We’re all fine, Mrs. S. Seriously. No one got hurt, and we showered at the gym at school.”