Safe Page 18

  “He’s dead,” Ashcroft said.

  Sodden glared at him. Ashcroft shut up.

  Miller said, “Yes, unfortunately, but his treatment and now this incident with Mr. Delahanty begin to show a pattern of discrimination against gay students, at least a part of which was brought to the attention of this administration which did not take action to keep that student safe. And now we have this teacher engaging in blatant discrimination.”

  Ashcroft burst out, “I knew nothing about what Delahanty threatened.” This time his lawyer just sat back in his chair. He looked defeated. My guess was he knew a losing case when he saw one.

  Miller brushed a hand over his mustache, smiled and took papers out of his briefcase and laid them on his lap. “I’m ready to begin an investigation of systemic discrimination against gay students in this school. If the results of the investigation warrant, and in this case there seems to be a preponderance of evidence in that direction, I am ready to bring charges and file suit. As you know, there have been suits filed in a number of cases around the country.” Sodden nodded. Miller added, “In which school boards keep losing and having to pay a great deal of money. Do you want me to site individual cases?”

  Sodden said, “No need. Why don’t we discuss this and see if we can’t find a more discreet way to solve all these problems?”

  Well, they did a whole lot of wrangling, and had something called sidebars, which was like separate meetings with different combinations: the lawyers met separately, then Sodden and Ashcroft, then Sodden, Ashcroft, and Templeton, then all four of the school people.

  Once while my parents were conferring with the ACLU guy, I got a chance to fill in Singleton about the weekend. I included everything, even the stuff about Boyer’s attempted rape.

  Singleton said, “I know some of that. I managed to get hold of the detectives. They were more forthcoming today, since I was right, and some of the bad guys were blabbing.”

  “They’re going to be convicted?”

  “It may come to the usual justice system plea bargaining, but my guess is all three of them will spend time in jail.”

  Miller and my parents rejoined us.

  I asked, “What’s going to happen?”

  Miller said, “With luck, they’ll be reasonable. Without luck, we’ll all be busy for quite some time.”

  “We don’t take them to court?”

  Miller shook his head. “If we can avoid that, we will. They might have to talk to the school board before we can finalize anything. It might hinge on how much sense they can talk into Delahanty. Their lawyer thinks he’s a loose cannon, which helps our side. They won’t want him on a witness stand. I’d love to put him on one for the same reason.”

  We all reconvened. Sodden, the board’s lawyer began. “Mr. Singleton, we need your word none of this will appear in the newspaper.”

  Singleton said, “That can be a part of a final agreement. Once we’ve seen what that is. I want Roger to play baseball this year.”

  “No way,” Delahanty snapped.

  Sodden, Templeton, and Ashcroft blanched.

  More sidebar conferencing between the two sides and various combinations therein. It was nearly six thirty. I was sore, tired, and hungry.

  When all of us met again, Sodden, the Board’s lawyer, talked. “Roger will play baseball.”

  “And Mr. Delahanty will not interfere with his being recruited?” Miller asked.

  “Mr. Delahanty will not be coaching baseball this season. Nor will he have any contact with any recruiters.”

  Delahanty hung his head, stared at the floor, and never looked up.

  “We’ll have to talk to the school board about Kyle Davis. We’d like to prevent a lawsuit if we can.”

  After that, they talked lawyer stuff which I followed pretty well. Everybody was going to be very careful to protect me in every way. Near the end, Delahanty stormed out. The other school people seemed relieved. Templeton got up and said, “I better see if I can talk to him one last time.”

  She left.

  They asked me to leave for a few minutes as well.

  I saw Mrs. Templeton talking to Delahanty at the far end of the hall. I heard him shout and swear and then saw him rush out of the building.

  Mrs. Templeton came back to me. She asked, “How are you doing?”

  I could have used another pain pill.

  I said I was fine then asked her, “Am I going to be okay with sports and stuff?”

  “Very definitely.” Her smile was broad and friendly. “If we’ve struck even a tiny blow against homophobic pigs today, I’m glad.”

  “He’s really not going to be the coach?”

  “Really. What he has to be most afraid of is if there is a whiff of discrimination on his part, he will lose his job. He’s not happy about that. I don’t care how happy or unhappy he is. The children of this school will be protected if I have anything to say about it. I couldn’t do much for Kyle then. I should have done more. This is the least I can do. The administration and the union will monitor this whole situation. You know our union’s been in the forefront of working for all kids, especially gay kids.”

  I hadn’t known.

  The most important thing I remembered after all that was a procedure was put in place and would be announced to all students that any antigay harassment was to be reported immediately and would be handled directly by one of the assistant principals. A zero-bullying policy was already in effect in the school. It would be enforced vigorously.

  At the slightest hint of a problem from Coach Delahanty, I was to report directly to the principal.

  In the hall, clots of adults in various combinations yapped forever. I called the hospital and found out that Steve might be released tomorrow. They were waiting for a doctor and the last few exam results.

  I called Darlene and Jack and filled them in. Darlene said that she’d love to write an article about the whole thing for the school paper, but she knew Trumble would never print it.

  Jack wanted to make sure I was okay and that I’d for sure be playing baseball this year. He was glad Delahanty was out.

  And all that was great, Delahanty out, protections for gay kids in, but Kyle was still dead, and his killer was still out there.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Monday 7:30 P.M.

  Finally, done, I mentioned to my parents that I’d liked to stop at the hospital and see Steve. They decided to go with.

  In the hallway outside the room, Reverend Koemer beamed happily. He was more than pleased to chat again with the parents of the hero who saved his son.

  While the adults talked, I went in to see Steve. I’d insisted we stop in the gift shop for flowers. They made Steve smile. That made me feel good. I liked his smile.

  He was using crutches to hobble around the room. We made an interesting pair with our casts, him with his crutches. He wore a gray sweatshirt and low slung, skinny leg black jeans, with one leg cut off below the knee. They looked good on him.

  We were the only ones in the room. We hugged. He held me like he needed me. I liked being needed. Holding him felt good.

  We sat next to each other on the bed. I’d never been so aware of a guy’s leg, knee, hip, and arm touching mine.

  He asked how my day had gone. I told him all that had happened with the lawyers and stuff. We talked quietly for a while then fell silent. I liked being this close to him.

  I reached out and took his hand. His fingers entwined with mine. He sighed and leaned his head against my shoulder. I listened to him breathe as I felt my chin against his soft hair. His head moved a little, and I found myself looking into his eyes. He shut his, and our heads moved a little, and our lips met, and I felt a guy’s tongue touch and swirl with mine for the first time. Our kiss lasted a moment. He sighed and muttered, “Someone might come in.”

  He was right so we pulled a little apart, and a few minutes later a nurse followed by some relatives came in.

  It was late so I didn’t stay long. Before I le
ft, I promised to visit him at home.

  He told me, “I want to go back to school as soon as I can.”

  “I’ll help you with that, if you want.”

  “That would be cool.”

  As I left I needed to bend over a bit to make it less obvious that I was still interested in kissing him and doing more.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Tuesday 8:00 A.M.

  School was a little odd again Tuesday. More idiot rumors flew, but I ignored them. Bert and his yellow Porsche roared into the parking lot as my walking cast and I clumped through the front doors of the school. Kids waved and smiled at him. His party had been a smash success, except for the gay guys who almost got killed. That seemed to add more cachet to the legend of Bert throwing the hottest, weirdest, never dull parties to go to.

  I still wanted to talk to the asshole about what the hell he’d been doing the night Kyle was killed. I was looking forward to that conversation.

  I worked out with Jack after school. I took it real slow, testing each muscle group where I’d been hit. The doctors had said I could do workouts, but to be careful with all the sore muscle groups and go easy on my ankle. If something hurt, I was to stop doing it.

  It took us a while, and it was late when we got done. I told Jack I’d drive him home, but that I wanted to stop in the newspaper office for a second and say good-night to Darlene and thank her for all her help.

  As we turned the corner to the building where the newspaper office was, we heard angry voices. It was a cool, clear afternoon, and the first gusts of predicted Santa Ana winds were blowing bits of tumbleweed and swirls of dust between the rows of classrooms.

  As we walked toward the office’s closed door, it was evident the voices were coming from within, and they were so loud, we could hear every word.

  We stopped three feet from the entrance. I held up a hand to Jack in a signal for him to wait.

  As we listened, I recognized Bert’s and Ian’s voices easily. The high tinny voice had to be Randy Cridge from the football team who’d threatened me in the cafeteria last week. Two other voices I sort of recognized.

  I opened my cell phone and pressed record. I’d only get a picture of the door, but I’d get all they said.

  Bert did most of the talking. At one point he said, “If we all just keep our mouths shut, nothing is going to happen. We all have to stay calm. I’ve got most of the school hating Roger Cook. He’s off the baseball team. He won’t be doing any more investigating. My dad’s money will protect us all.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Ian said.

  “You were there,” Bert reminded him. “You’re part of this just like the rest of us.”

  “We shouldn’t have killed him,” Ian said.

  “You wanted to that night,” Randy said.

  They’d killed him. Alarm bells rang in my head. First, be careful, second do I run now and bring this to the cops? Could these guys deny it was them on the recording? Would the voices be clear enough to convict them? I had to get it all on tape.

  Bert said, “No disputes or fighting. We all stick together.”

  Ian said, “Your news is out of date. Delahanty got fired as baseball coach. He wasn’t in school today. Rumor is he quit his job.”

  Bert said, “I don’t believe that.”

  “And Roger’s not off the team,” Cridge added. “That’s what I heard.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Bert said.

  Ian said, “Some of the kids today weren’t talking about him being gay. What with all that’s happened, most of them seemed kind of indifferent. Kind of like they’re moving on to the next thing.”

  Bert said, “I’ll fix that. I’ll find a way.”

  A voice called behind me, “What are you doing here?”

  Through the wind and tumbleweed, Ashcroft hurried toward us.

  The door to the office opened.

  Jack and I turned to it.

  Bert’s head appeared around the door. He couldn’t see Ashcroft who was beyond us the other way.

  “Why’d you guys kill Kyle?” I asked.

  Ian’s pale and frightened face appeared behind Bert. Randy Cridge, Earl Denton, and Dwight Alden, the three who’d confronted me in the lunchroom, eased up behind those two.

  Ashcroft arrived. Bert glared at the three of us.

  “What’s going on?” Mr. Ashcroft asked.

  I said, “These guys killed Kyle Davis.”

  Bert started screaming. Ian slumped against the building, his back hit the wall as he slowly slid to the ground. The football players turned very pale. Ashcroft looked aghast.

  I held up my cell phone, “I have what they were saying recorded.”

  “Give me that,” Bert screamed. He grabbed for the phone.

  Jack belted him one.

  Bert fell backwards and landed on his ass.

  Ashcroft took his phone out. He summoned a crowd of officials.

  It took a while and things got way complicated, but eventually cops arrived, accusations flew, parents showed up individually and in pairs.

  It was Ian who broke. He finally just started bawling in front of the whole crowd then gasped out, “We killed him.”

  If they’d have been alone with him, I think Bert and his buddies would have done Ian in right there.

  EPILOGUE – ON THE MURDER CASE

  Between idiot teenage rumors, school administration bull crap, and police obfuscation, it took a while for me to get the whole story. Singleton was a big help. Since he was right, the cops were a little less hostile to him than they had been. Singleton wrote articles about Kyle and prejudice. At my request, he left me out of it.

  What happened to Kyle was this.

  Ian said that he and Bert had been together that night. They’d hooked up with the other three around nine. Bert’s parents were having a sit down dinner for the governor and his wife and several dozen of their best friends, so Bert had no plans to be home. He and his friends stumbled on Kyle struggling with his bike, rope, and step stool.

  Kyle had, indeed, been planning to kill himself that night. Kyle told them they wouldn’t be able to hurt him anymore. With the tools at hand, Bert had guessed what Kyle intended to do. They’d teased about helping Kyle kill himself. They tried forcing Kyle to service them sexually. Kyle had vowed to himself, confirmed by what I’d read in his diary, never to be part of that kind of sex again. The refusal infuriated Bert, who had used Kyle’s services before.

  Then Kyle had threatened to tell everybody about what Bert let him do. Part of the plan for revenge I’d read in the diary had been to tell all. The other guys laughed at Bert, saying maybe he, Bert, actually was a faggot. Bert went crazy.

  Bert’s temper tantrum resulted in the bike being ruined and then pitched into the canal. Ian had thought they’d only been teasing about helping Kyle kill himself, but at that point, Bert began to push the others to kill him.

  So Bert believed the threat of Kyle’s ill-formed revenge plan. There’d been no secret list, but the threat of one was enough to get him killed.

  They’d already been drinking and events got out of control. Kyle had sobbed when his bike was ruined. Bert had only laughed all the harder. Kyle struggled some, but after his bike was wrecked, he lost any real will to resist. Ian had said that he got real quiet, and when they put the rope around his neck, he was almost completely passive. Kyle had kicked a little at the end, but it was far too late as he swung above the ground.

  Ian had claimed he was shocked by how cruel Bert had been. Not shocked enough to put a stop to murder. Not shocked enough to prick his conscience until it was too late.

  I’m not sure who I hated more, Bert or Ian or their three hefty partners in crime.

  I’d been attacked in the orange groves Tuesday by Earl, Randy, and Dwight. All five had been out there that night trying to retrieve the bike. Ian had become obsessed that it might be found and turned into some kind of evidence against them, with fingerprints or DNA or something. He had been panicke
d by my investigation and with Ian’s history of wild mood swings, Bert had been afraid that Ian might begin talking.

  To satisfy Ian, they’d gone out. Darlene and I hadn’t made a big secret out of the investigation, and Bert had overheard her telling Trumble some of the details. Ian didn’t know what they’d have done if they caught me that night. I tried not to think about what could have happened.

  With all Bert’s dad’s money and influence, I wasn’t sure how locked up he’d be. I hoped it would be for the rest of his life. Singleton heard that Bert’s high-priced lawyer early on began maneuvering to screw the other four. Ian was already blabbing, but the lawyer’s attempted manipulations were enough to get the other three to turn on Bert as well. The four confirmed that it was Bert who actually pushed the stool out from under Kyle’s feet.

  EPILOGUE – WITH STEVE

  I visited Steve at his house on Thursday night. He was scheduled to return to school the next day. His parents continued to lavish excessive praise on me.

  I’d picked up his assignments at school, and Darlene had texted him and asked if he wanted newspaper work. Steve had said yes, that it gave him something to do.

  In his room, he held back, kept a distance, shuffled papers at his desk.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He mumbled and muttered. I sat on his bed. He sat on his desk chair. The screensaver on his computer was a picture of Justin Verlander of the Detroit Tigers in midpitching stride, arms extended, crotch prominent. I thought it was a great choice.

  I said, “I’d like to look at your cartoons. You’re really clever to do those and keep it secret. You don’t have to or anything, just if you want.”

  “Sure.” I got a bit of a smile from him. He had a nice smile. For fifteen minutes I stood next to him as he showed me drawings on his computer plus some mockups for new cartoon strips. One had Ashcroft ass-over backwards being attacked by a blizzard of administrative paperwork. He also showed me some erotic drawings.

  “How do you hide these?”

  “I have them encoded with a password my parents would never guess.”