ODDS OF LOVE

Episode Thirty

   Spencer was alone once again.

DuBuis had left to go take care of Eddie. No. Luci. His brain was already transplanting the new name over young Eddie's innocent serious intelligent face in his mind. Eddie was now Luci to him.  He didn't know if he would make a good father. Probably not but DuBuis would. With DuBuis by his side he wouldn't screw up too bad. 

Faith had also left after getting a text message which made her smile. From his doorway he had watched her talking and smiling to the perky blonde executive director who had been blushing greatly. Then they had left together with Faith's hand lingering on Pammy's shoulder.  He smiled slightly and returned to his cell where he was suddenly enveloped with a sense of loneliness. He knew it was irrational but he felt abandoned by his family. This place was not home. He yearned to be home. He wanted to be in his and DuBuis's bedroom with its bed graced by the cheerful quilt Nessa had knitted them lovingly. He adored that quilt. He could so clearly see it in the compartment of his mind that he labeled DuBuis. He wanted to be in their  living room  with their overflowing bookcases that contained his first edition hardcover collectible books and his husband's cherished mysteries and well worn medical journals. He wanted to be reclining in bed with DuBuis watching an old movie on the TV. 

Home. He missed it. He wanted to go back home. 

" That ya man ? "

Spencer stiffened in his chair. The chair he hated so much. His hands fluttered against the armrests. His head tilted towards the direction of the gruff and harsh voice. Well. He was not quite all alone. 

Sitting up in the other single bed next to the big bay window was a big burly White man with thick salt and pepper hair and a mountain man looking full beard and mustache. The man was covered by a blanket that was beige and very bland. The TV set across from him flickered with some mindless family comedy show. On the nightstand near him sat a half filled glass of water and a gold framed picture of a laughing slim young blond man that leaned casually on a battered old pickup truck. At the foot of his bed sat an empty motorized wheelchair. 

" Excuse me ? , " he asked. 

" The man growled , " That. Your. Man. The big Black daddy ? I'm supposing he a daddy. He look like it.  Not a bear. Not hairy enough. That's more me. You more a twink. An aging twink. Nah. You not a twink. I'm not sure what you are. " 

Spencer wanted to laugh. Story of his life. He never had fit in anywhere. 

" Yes. He is my husband. He's a doctor. A very good doctor. We met long ago in college. He is my best friend. My only friend. His name is DuBuis. My name is ....... "

" I know who the fuck you are. I do watch news. What the hell else I got to do in this fucking paradise but watch the damn TV ? You Dr. Spencer Norland - Lane , the fancy pants math professor that got shot in some store robbery over in PG. Well , Fancy Pants , welcome to the one club nobody wants to join up in. Welcome to Club Never Ending Hell. " 

Spencer swallowed hard. He didn't want to discuss the accident. Ever. He reached for the schedule of daily events that was on his neatly made up bed. His only temporary bed. 

" I'm Hank. Hank Harmon. Born Henry Abbott Harmon Junior. Oldest of thirteen kids to a West Virginia coal miner and a teacher like you. Only my Ma taught high school English. She was one of only two people in my worthless life who made me see the beauty in poetry. As much as a punch drunk boxer could anyway. Ain't seen my family in years. Since I came out at sixteen. They kicked me out the house for good. Heard Ma died though. Lung cancer. She never smoked a day in her life. "

Spencer tried to focus and concentrate on the paper he held. He was thinking of DuBuis and Luci. And the cats. And his home. His body was there at the prison. His mind was elsewhere. 

" I heard what the daddy was saying about the kid. The nephew thinks he's a girl ? Kid's luckier than me. Least he or she or they or whatever got family to take them in. I just had me. I took off for New York , then New Jersey , bunch of places. I survived doing the only thing I knew how to do. "

" You said you were a boxer , Hank ? That is quite a dangerous occupation , isn't it ? " 

Hank snorted rudely , " Not when you know what you're doing , kid ! I knew what I was doing ! Numbers , they called me The Great Gay Hope. Nobody could lay a glove on me. I was gonna go pro too. Ask my man to buy a house with me. I was gonna take care of my own twink like he deserved. " 

His cool eyes drifted towards the picture with such bitterness that Spencer both felt sorry for him and wanted to run from him. Ok. Roll from him. His running days were long gone. Maybe he could roll fast. 

" I called him Angel because that's what he reminded me of. A pure saintly angel. His name was Austin. Austin Anderson. I loved him from the first moment I ever saw him. He was getting bashed by some college punks in New York. Three of them. I beat the shit out of all of them. I beat them. Told you I was that good. " Hank smiled as though he was proud of himself. " He called me his hero. I was lost in that one moment. All it takes is that one moment. One moment , Numbers , to change your whole life. " 

Oh , Spencer knew that very well.

( " Give me the ring ! " )

( " No ! " )

( " I want the ring , you skinny fag ! " )

( The gunshots. )

( " You'll never walk again. I'm so sorry. " )