Blackbirds

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

​The man from yesterday hadn't shown up. But Dave did. Mike sat up slowly. He was taught how to flex his fingers and move his leg enough to walk and bend but that was it. He wouldn't be running anytime soon. Dave sat down on the edge of his bed as Mike tapped his metallic fingers on the bedrail.

​"Hey so you know how I'm taking you to my place now?"

​"Yea?"

​"Well....the doctors don't think it's a very good idea if you're just with a friend while you recover. They also don't think you'll ever be able to play again. It just doesn't bend to those capabilities. You'll be able to walk and everything like you do now but it's not made for sliding bases and the hand can't take the impact of swinging a bat like that. I'm sorry Mike."

​"Where am I going to live?"

​"Well.....since your parents are out of the country, the therapist from yesterday said he'd be glad to have you at his place," Dave said. Mike stared at him. He was going to move in with some guy he had met once and didn't even know.

​"Oh."

​"He's waiting outside to take you. Is he....ok?"

​"Yea."

​"Ok. Well, come on," Dave said before holding out a hand, "Oh and don't worry about the hospital bill either. He covered that as well."

​Mike couldn't believe this guy was paying for his medical issue. Dave helped him walk out of the room and down to the waiting room. His foot still didn't bend that well. He felt tears make his way into his eyes again. He was leaving the hospital but he would never run the bases again. And then they were in the waiting room and he saw the man from before. He sat in one of the chairs with a red flannel shirt on and baggy jeans. His glasses were balanced on his nose and he was reading a book. He closed the book and put it in his case as they walked up. He gave them a smile and Dave glanced over at Mike before letting go of him.

​"Don't worry about him. He'll be in good hands," the man said and Dave nodded.

​"Ok. See you around Mike."

​"See you Dave," he said quietly. And then there was a light arm around his waist.

​"You ready to go?"

​"Mhm," Mike said. He was surprised to find that the other man was actually about a half inch shorter than him. He looked so tall in his skinny clothing. They walked out to his car and he helped Mike into the backseat.

​"You don't gotta help me with everything," Mike said as he leaned back against the seat. The man grinned at him again.

​"Yea I do. You're the one damaged here."

​"Fuck you," the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. The man paused and glanced at him. He looked slightly upset. Great. First ten minutes with the guy and he was already screwing this up.

​"I guess so. Listen Mike, I'm not going to say that I'm the best person in the world but right now, I'm the one who is supporting your very large hospital bill and your suckish attitude. So just give me a break ok?"

​Mike sighed, "I'm sorry."

​It was quiet for a long time and then they pulled up to the house. His new friend climbed out of the car and walked over to where he was and opened the door. Mike slowly climbed out. His leg still didn't work right. They walked up the steps to his house and Mike realized that this man had a very nice house. And then all of a sudden, a neighbor came out of the house next to him. Mike glanced over and the teenager kid grinned.

​"Aw look. Finally found yourself a boyfriend gaywad?" the neighbor kid called. Mike stared at the teenager in shock but his therapist just shook his head and opened the door. Mike slowly walked inside. He heard the other man set down his stuff and then he was brushing past him.

​"Your room is through there and to the left," he said as he passed by, "Mine is right across from yours."

​"You have a small house."

​"Don't need a big one."

​"But you have all the money."

​"Don't have anyone to live with. Never needed the extra space," he replied shortly. Mike realized that this man didn't want him to know anything about him but he wanted to know everything about Mike. This wasn't a one way exchange. Mike would get information somehow.

​He walked into his new room and couldn't believe that he was really going to stay here. He sighed as he tossed his bag down on the floor and then laid down on the bed. It wasn't a bad room. He was just overcome by sadness. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong had. He looked down at the robotic limb that came after his knee. The car crash had taken away everything.

​"Hey Chester! You want to come baseball?"

​"Not really Mike. Not in the mood."

​Mike looked at the boy standing next to him. Beautiful flame tattoos covered his wrists now. He was leaning against the wall picking at his nail.

​"You sure?"

​"Yea. That's your thing. I'll watch if you want me to."

​"When did you become such a spoil sport? All you do is sit around now."

​"There was a time when I loved hanging out with you but now everything is baseball. Remember that Mike?"

​"Yea but this is important!"

​"No its not. I don't care. When was the last time you actually played a video game? Or talked about something other than the San Francisco Giants?"

​Mike stood there at a loss for words. Had he really been that bad? Chester sighed and then looked out at the playground. They were hanging out at their old elementary school. The boy next to him shuffled for a minute before bringing a lighter and a white and brown roll to his mouth. Mike stared at him as Chester lit the cigarette and clicked the lighter shut before breathing out slowly.

​"Since when do you smoke?"

​"Since a while," Chester replied softly, "I've been doing it in front of you for the past three weeks. Remember?"

​"No I don't," Mike said. Maybe he had been forgetting about other people. He looked back at the playground and then he heard Chester's footsteps. The other boy had a hood pulled over his head and his shoulders hunched. A trail of smoke followed him.

​"Where are you going?" Mike called after the form of his friend.

​"Home. Call me when you remember me," Chester shouted back without even turning around.

​The more he thought about, the more he realized that he hadn't done what he should've done for the his friend. Chester had been falling apart right in front of him and he'd done nothing to help until it was later. Maybe it had been because he was so caught up in everything else that didn't matter. He sighed softly and stared at the ceiling. It wasn't all Chester's fault. It was partly his as well.

​"Hey. You want something to eat?"

​Mike turned and stared at the man in the doorway. His black glasses were a bit crooked. His flannel shirt ran down his long arms. Mike shook his head slightly.

​"What are you even going to do for me?" he muttered. The other man stepped into his room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

​"Help you deal with this problem. And get you back on the diamond."

​Mike laughed bitterly, "Didn't you hear what they said? I can't play baseball anymore. The stuff won't allow it. It won't move how I need to."

​"If that's what you want to believe then fine," the other man said quietly, "You sure you don't want anything to eat?"

​"No. Just go away," Mike muttered. He watched him leave the room and shut the door before throwing a pillow against it. This guy was insane. He'd never play baseball again. He swallowed and then turned on the television to the sports channels. San Francisco was on.

​"When's the last time you talked about something other than the San Francisco Giants?"

​Mike clicked the television off. Not even watching baseball could cheer him up right now. Maybe he should try to get along with the man he was living with. It would only make things harder if he didn't. He slowly got up and walked to the door. It had been about fifteen minutes since the man had left. He walked out into the kitchen and saw the man sitting with his back to him. He was reading again. Mike cleared his throat.

​"Change your mind?"

​"Uh.....no. Can we just......talk?"

​"Be my guest," the other man said motioning for him to sit at the table. Mike walked slowly to the seat and sat down.

​"So....uh....," he began.

​"What do you want to talk about?"

​"Well.....uh....I don't know anything about you," Mike tried, "Like...your name."

​"And I told you it already. You've just forgotten. Sometimes it's hard to put the past behind you Mike. I understand that. But that doesn't mean you forget about it. Baseball for example. You're giving it up like it's a lost hope already. You give up on things too fast."

​"You don't care at all! I could die and you'd forget about me as soon as the Royals won their next game!"

​"Yea well sometimes I find that the past has really come back to bite me in the ass right now. I had this friend you know? He was my best friend. We never went anywhere without the other until ninth grade. We had a falling out. I don't know where he is or what he's doing. I keep telling myself I don't care but I do. And I can't stop thinking about him."

​"I'm sorry. Words are powerful. One argument can break a thousand friendships while three other words can join two people for life."

​"Why do you talk so strangely?"

​"I don't know.  Just happens."

​"Why would you even start something like this?"

​"I don't know. It just happens."

​Mike sighed and looked away. Maybe this guy was right. Maybe it wasn't right to forget about things in the past. Maybe he could move on and just not forget them. Chester's grinning face appeared in his head and he almost smiled as well. He'd missed seeing that smile. He looked up and saw the man giving him a small smile.

​"Trust me Mike, there are some things you won't want to forget," he said with a smile. Mike stared at him as he got up and walked to the sink. He washed his hands and then nodded at him.

​"I'll be in my room if you need something," he said. Mike nodded and watched him walk away. It hadn't even been a day and this guy was already making a big impact on him. He shivered and went to the living room. He slowly sat down on the couch before getting up again. He couldn't talk. He wanted to talk to the other man again. He walked towards the door that was now shut and knocked. He heard something thump. He frowned and tried the door handle. It was locked.

​"Hey! You ok?" Mike called.

​"Yea hang on one second Mike."

​Mike backed away from the door and leaned back against the wall. The door opened about a minute later and the man stood there looking at him.

​"Something up?"

​"I just wanted to know why you decided to be a therapist like this? You don't look like one," Mike said.

​"Because everyone's made bad mistakes in life. Sometimes, you just need some help or a push in the right direction and you're ok again. I wanted to help people," he replied.

​"I asked for you to help me but you didn't care! You ignored me like always!"