Cleats in Clay (12 page)

Sharon smirked. “I think we could wait ’til hell freezes over and
this
shit
still
won’t make any sense.” She went to the chiller and grabbed one of the bottles of wine. She snagged two glasses on the way back.

Bobby got the corkscrew from the drawer and handed it to her. “Okay, spill.”
“He had some weird vision thing,” she said as she opened the wine. “Nate said he could see how things were connected and how they
might be
connected. He really didn’t tell me much more than that.”
“Why’d he keep it a secret from me?” he asked as she handed him a glass of wine.
“He was afraid it would screw with your relationship. That if you knew he saw things sometimes, you’d be tempted to ask, and he’d be tempted to tell you. Since your career was a game of chance, he worried about consequences. It was easier not telling you at all than having to tell you ‘no’ all the time.”
“But,” Bobby started to argue. Then he frowned. “The temptation
would
have been there, I guess. I would have respected him, though.”
“Most of the time, maybe, but the
tension
would have still been there. Even if you didn’t ask aloud, you’d wonder. You’d examine every little thing he said, looking for extra meanings. I know I did sometimes.”
“True. I guess.” He held up his glass to toast. “To Nate and his fucking secrets.”
Sharon clinked his glass. “He sure loved ’em.” She snickered. “Even his fricking name. Took me eight years before he told me what his middle name was.”
“Oh.” Bobby chuckled. “I only held out a year before I snooped in his papers and found his birth certificate.”

Sharon laughed. “Wish I’d had that option. I don’t know why he was so embarrassed about Ichabod.”
“Well, does bring to mind that silly Halloween story.”
Sharon swirled her wineglass. “Now your turn. Tell me about that artist.”
Bobby took a big swallow of wine and then sat back on the stool. “You might have met him, I think.”
“
What
?” Sharon leaned forward. “Who is he? When?”
“In Key West, do you remember meeting a sculptor?”

“Oh, the little midget guy, Opie or something.”
Bobby scowled. “Geez, Shar, could ya be any more offensive?” “Sorry.” She flinched back. “That’s the guy? The sculptor?” “Yeah. He’s not a midget, just, shorter. And his name’s Odis.

Named after a god or something.”
“Oh.” Sharon poured some more wine into her glass. “I remember
him, but I didn’t really talk to him. Nate did, though, spent a long time chatting him up.” Sharon swirled her glass with a puzzled look on her
face. “And he’s the guy Nate sent you to.”
“You say that like there’s something wrong with him.” “No. Like I said, I hardly talked to him.” Sharon waited a minute,
but Bobby just kept staring off thoughtfully. “So, tell me. What happened
in Texas?”
Bobby shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. We made out that
first day.”
Sharon smiled as she eyed him. “Mr. Lane,” she teased. “You just
walk in and start kissing a strange man?”
“No, we smoked some pot first.”
Sharon’s eyes popped open. “And what magic spell did he put on
you to make
that
happen?”
Bobby smiled sheepishly. “No spell. He didn’t know who I was, so
we started talking about Nate and everything. Then he gave me his pipe.” “Well, then, I won’t argue.”
“Argue?” Bobby puzzled aloud.
“With Nate. If it took sending you to Texas to pull you out of…
whatever, and get you talking, then I’m not going to argue with Nathan’s
methods.”
“I’m sure he’s happy to know he has your approval.” Bobby looked
over at the brass box. “So, did Nate get that box in Key West?” Sharon just shook her head, but her eyes widened when she caught
Bobby’s train of thought. “Oh no, we got it in Savannah, Georgia, where
we stopped for the night on the way back.”
Bobby nodded. “He got the box and gave it to you
right after
Key
West.” He smoothed out the enigmatic note and studied it again. “Then
this
must
have something to do with Odis.”
“Beats me.” Sharon looked down at the note.
“The timing of the box right after meeting him sure points to it.” “Maybe.” Sharon glanced at Bobby again. “Okay, after getting
stoned and making out the first day, what happened the second day?” “The piece Nate ordered was for my birthday, so Odis stayed up all
night finishing it while I was at the B and B. He showed it to me the next
day, then took a nap while I worked out. We sorta ended up in bed after
that.”
“Bobby Lane, you slut,” she teased with a silly grin. “What was the
sculpture?”
“A huge weeping willow tree, with hummingbirds and other stuff.” “Wow, sounds great. I can’t wait to see that.”
“Oh, it is great,” Bobby said, his face lighting up. “It’s all strong and
soft, both at the same time. And lots of personal stuff too, like he carved
n.i.p. plus r.p.l.
inside a heart on the trunk of the tree, you know, like a
lover’s stamp… lots of stuff.”
She peered at him over her wineglass. “And when did you fall in
love with him?” she asked very quietly and innocently.
“The second day was when—” Bobby suddenly jerked up and stared
at her. “Who said I fell in love?”
“
You
just did, dear,” she answered with a knowing smile. “Shit.” He scowled. “He… I don’t know, Shar. I keep trying to
convince myself I was just feeling weird shit from the weed, but it’s not
working.” He dropped his head. “I think I did.”
She topped off his glass with the last of the wine. “It’s all right,
Bobby. I’m sure Nathan’s trying to prove with all his theatrics that he
wants you to move on. You should.”
Bobby swirled his glass, watching the circular movement of the
wine.
“When are you going back?” Sharon asked.
“Once the commission stuff is done. Maybe Friday, if we close it up
fast. I’m meeting with some lawyers in the morning.”
“Then I shouldn’t keep you up late.” Sharon patted his hand. “I’ll
miss you, you know.”
“I’ll only be gone for the weekend.”
Sharon gave him a studied look. “If you say so. But if there
is
something there, you should pursue it. Nate might just crawl out of the
grave and drag you there himself if you don’t.”
Bobby scowled at the zombie movie image that formed in his head.
“From what I’ve been learning about him, he just might.”
“Then don’t piss him off.” Sharon stood up and took one last glance
at the note. “I’m off, then. Good luck with the lawyers.”
“Thanks.” Bobby escorted her to the door and locked it behind her.
He set the security alarm and cleaned up the kitchen. After putting the
cryptic note back into the brass box, he snatched it up and went upstairs, where he left it on the nightstand in the spare bedroom. He studied that
strange design as he stripped out of his clothes and got ready for bed. The thought of calling Odis did enter his mind as he crawled under
the covers, but drowsiness from the wine dragged him into sleep before he
could sit up again.

M
ORNING
sun rudely invaded his room again. Bobby had once again forgotten to close the blinds the previous night. He got up, dressed conservatively, then went to the early morning legal meeting, which turned into a long day of “hurry up and wait.”

After a brief greeting from a prim lady named Ms. Gentry when he first arrived at the legal office, Bobby was left sitting in the lobby for nearly twenty minutes until a young man, hardly more than a kid, pranced up to collect him. “We’re in conference room two,” he said over his shoulder as he quickly led Bobby down the hall.

Inside the conference room waited Ms. Gentry and another presumed lawyer, who jumped to his feet and introduced himself. “I’m Mike Horbath; we spoke on the phone yesterday. Please grab some coffee or snacks from the buffet and have a seat,” he said while motioning to the table of donuts and croissants near the corner.

After getting a croissant and sitting at the table, Bobby exhaled sharply. “I don’t want this to turn into another big thing. I’ve decided to just take their settlement.”

“If that’s what you want,” Mike said while trying to hide his disappointment. “We’ll respect your wishes not to chase it. Let’s start by you explaining what they’ve offered so far.”

Bobby described the previous phone calls from the commission and some of the ideas he’d spoken with Odis about. The lawyers got very excited when he mentioned the Monday-morning phone call he got while in Texas. Mike jotted down a few quick details and rushed from the room with Ms. Gentry, leaving Bobby feeling abandoned and a touch nervous.

“Don’t worry,” the kid said when he saw the concern on Bobby’s face. “You’re in good hands here.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Our firm is part of the Lambda Legal Group. We take LGBT issues
very
seriously.” When his phone buzzed, the kid glanced down at it briefly. “I need to step out for a minute. Anything you need or that I can get…?” he asked with a tiny hopeful glint in his eye.
“No, I’m fine,” Bobby told him.
The kid got up and nearly ran out of the room while fiddling with his phone, leaving Bobby to sit alone.
He was beginning to feel lost and forgotten until Ms. Gentry poked her head in the door. “Apologies for the wait. We’re still on the phone. I can send Kyle back in if you need anything?”
“No, I’m doing okay,” Bobby told her as he got up and returned to the buffet for another cup of coffee.
He started to get a bit aggravated after another hour passed. He glanced up when the door opened again. Kyle breezed in with a handful of bags and deftly yanked out containers of food. “I thought you might want some lunch.”
Bobby took one of the Styrofoam containers, smelling the bread and meat. He opened it to find a club sandwich fashioned from flatbread, with a helping of turkey and a container of mayo on the side.
“Wasn’t sure if you’re veggie, so had ’em put that stuff on the side.”
Bobby loaded the meat and mayo into the sandwich. “I’m not.” He took a big bite.
Kyle smiled as he took a bite from his own sandwich. “Seems like so many people are nowadays. Always have to think ahead.”
“Thank you for the lunch. What’s taking so long, do you know?”
“Oh, you know how these things are.” Kyle shrugged. “I’m sorry, maybe you don’t. This is the arguing-back-and-forth-until-somebodyblinks stage,” he said cheerfully.
Bobby glanced over at the twinky-looking Kyle. “How long have you worked here?”
“Oh, I’m still on internship. I hope I get to stay, though. I really like kicking ass for the cause, you know.”
Bobby chuckled. “I don’t know much about this legal stuff. Do you know why they got so excited when I mentioned that phone call Monday?”
“Dude,” Kyle said with a hand flourish. “That’s, like, so far into the gray side of ethical, trying to railroad you into a quickie meeting and all.” Kyle grinned. “I’m sure they’re making the most out of that leverage.”
“Humph,” Bobby said, then almost chuckled at himself. “If I’d been in town, though, I probably would have just gone to the meeting.”
“So glad you didn’t.” Kyle finished inhaling his sandwich. “I’m the one that’s been pestering them to get your case. I’m a big baseball fan, and I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”
Bobby glanced over at him again. “You play?”
“Shortstop. Started with T-ball way back forever ago and played all the way up through high school. Decided to focus on studies in college, so I didn’t play any ball at Harvard.”
Bobby thought about the kid’s quick reflexes and agility. “I bet you did well with that.”
“Passable. My batting always sucked, though, so didn’t consider getting serious.” Kyle gazed over at him. “I play for the Rainbow League now. You ever thought about joining us?”
Bobby shook his head. “It wouldn’t seem fair, being a pro and all.”
Kyle gazed at him with his cutest smile. “I’d love to have you… join the League, I mean.”
Bobby smiled back politely. He appreciated the flirting, but even without Odis in the picture, such a young kid didn’t arouse his interest. “I’m just too old for that now,” he said gently, trying not to squelch Kyle too forcefully.
“Damn shame.” Kyle sighed. “I bet you’ve got
plenty
of miles left in that gas tank of yours.”
“Well, even if I don’t play, it might be nice to go to some of the games.”
“That would be awesome. Just look us up on the Internet. You can find all the schedules and stuff there. It would mean a lot to the players if you
did
visit.”
“Then I’ll definitely look into it.”
Kyle started to say something else, but the door opening interrupted him. Mike and Ms. Gentry scurried back in, both wearing huge grins. “I think you’ll be happy,” Mike told Bobby.
“What happened?”
Mike tried to look more serious. “First off, if you accept this, then it’s a done deal. You just need to drop by here in the morning for some paperwork to officialize everything.”
“What was the offer?” Kyle cut in.
Ms. Gentry spoke up as she passed a sheet of paper to Bobby. “Besides the substantial cash settlement, we got a section of box seats in the stadium to be renamed the Nathan Price Box, in which you have the first row of eight seats permanently reserved. They have also agreed to add sensitivity seminars as part of spring training. For management too, not just the players.”
Bobby’s eyes bugged out when he saw all the zeros in the settlement number. “This…,” he said while shaking his head.
“Dude,” Kyle said, “I’m sure they could get more, but you said you didn’t want a big fight.”
“No. I mean, this is
too much
. I don’t need all of this.” Bobby shook his head. “What the hell am I gonna do with so much money?”
Kyle smiled. “Is there anything else you
do
want?”
“No. The box seats are a nice touch.”
“Thanks.” Mike beamed. “That was my idea.”
Kyle took the paper from Bobby. “If you don’t want anything else, then take the offer.”
Bobby glanced around at the expectant faces. “Okay,” he said while nodding slightly.
“Let’s get it set in stone, then,” Mike cheered as he and Ms. Gentry left the room again.
Kyle scooted his chair closer to Bobby. He smiled hesitantly. “I’m almost afraid to bring this up now. I don’t want you to think I’m just a shark smelling blood in the water.”
“What?” Bobby asked softly.
“If you don’t want this money, the idea of charity is bound to cross your mind. I’d like to give you something to think about in that regard.”
“Okay.”
“Let me tell you what the Rainbow League is
really
all about. Sure, we have lots of fun playing baseball with mostly gay and lesbian players, but everybody covers their own costs for uniforms and such. The real goal for the League is that all profits from the gate and concessions go to support the Rainbow Camp.”
“Rainbow Camp?”
“It’s kind of a summer camp social experiment. We aim for LGBT and urban kids to have two weeks at a facility together in the Appalachians. We try, especially for the urban kids, to get as many scholarships as we can, so they can come at no cost.”
“Queer and urban kids together? How do you keep it from turning ugly?”
Kyle smiled. “That’s where the experiment part comes in. Most of the LGBT kids are fourteen to eighteen, since they don’t usually come out sooner than that, but we try and get the urban kids as young as four or five. We’re hoping that by reaching out to them that young, the urban kids can see the greater opportunities and options they might not see otherwise. Those options could help keep them off that ugly road of drugs and gangs they’ll be confronted with later in life. And the LGBT kids get the selfesteem of being mentors for the younger ones.”
“Wow,” Bobby said with a grin. “And that really works?”
“This will be our sixth summer. And it’s going great so far. We had to turn away about twelve kids last year because the place we rented wasn’t big enough. I actually sponsored three of the kids out of my own pocket.”
“That’s definitely something to think about.”