And Paul needed his sealed. If his father found out, there would be HOLY HELL to pay.
“Okay, Dancing Rock.” The judge’s eyes were bug-like behind his bifocals. “According to the pleadings, your client’s father has relentlessly bullied, harassed, and stalked him, making everyone refer to him as R2-D2, which stands for—” the judge consulted the pleadings—“Retarded, Robot, Dick Diddler. If that’s true—about the father—your client might qualify to have this sealed.”
“But, judge,” Garland protested, pointing to Paul, “just look at the guy, he is kinda, um, the ‘R’-word. No offense.”
Paul stopped fidgeting. His shoulders slumped.
Matt realized, belatedly, what Garland was doing: out-peckerheading the judge, forcing the guy to be the grown-up in the room. Matt guessed that had something to do with what Garland had whispered to Paul. Still, it angered him that the judge had to be tricked into doing the right thing, that Paul had to hear these insults even one last time. Yeah, Paul had Asperger’s Syndrome,but he was absolutely the smartest guy Matt knew. Without Paul’s insights, Colton Langley would still pose a threat to the GM.
Matt stood and put an arm around his friend’s shoulder.
“See, Judge,” Garland said, pointing at Matt, “that other part about dick diddling is true, too. That’s my client’s boyfriend.”
There were scattered snickers from the gallery.
The judge angrily gaveled the room to silence.
“Young man,” the judge addressed Paul, “if I swear you in, will you testify truthfully about these allegations?”
Paul nodded.
Garland stepped forward and offered a small stack of papers to the Judge. “You might want to read these, too, Judge. These are notarized affidavits from schoolteachers, neighbors, and church members attesting that the father insisted that they only refer to his son as R2-D2. They thought it was a cute nickname. You know, because of theStar Warsrobot.”
Fifteen minutes later Paul Olsson, Junior ceased to exist.
In his place Paul Robert (Bobby) Fisher began—not, however, without the Judge’s asking whether he knew he had picked a Jewish name.
Chapter 42: Bella Does Leno
Friday, April 12, 1996
“Hap-py Birth-day to you…” Matt joined in the singing. They were in Nicholas’s and Bradley’s dining room. The newly christened Robert stood at the head of the table, a Happy Birthday banner taped to the wall behind him, a cake before him. The guests—Matt and the eight other members of the GM; Garland; and, of course, the hosts, were fanned out facing the birthday boy.
There were beverages and food galore because this party was going ‘til midnight—at least. At 10:30 they planned to watch Bella’s guest appearance on theTonight Showwith Jay Leno. There was a lot to celebrate.
“Hap-py Ze-ro-th Birth-day, Paul Ro-bert Fi-scher! Hap-py Ze-ro-th Birth-day to you!”
Clapping and cheering from the guests.
Tears of joy trickled down Robert’s cheeks. His eyes shone brightly. R2-D2 had been returned to theStar Warsfranchise, where it belonged.
Matt sipped merlot, absorbing the positive energy in the room. He had never seen Pa—Robert so happy. It went beyond that, he realized. He’d never seen the GM members so relaxed and happy either—giddy almost. It was as if all their interactions over the last year had been clouded by a malignant menace.
Colton Langley was gone.
Mike Huebsch? Officially off in search of greener pastures, but Matt knew the truth.
Only one member of the Unholy Trinity remained: Dean Smith.
It had been the dean, acting solely on Colton’s accusations, who had summoned Adam to his office last September and hurled the words SODOMITE and ABOMINATION against him.
And then, the dean had talked about how ashamed of their son Adam’s parents would be. The guy had practically handed Adam the razor blade and told him to do the “honorable thing.”
Yeah, his turn was next.
“To Bobby Fischer, chess master!”
Everyone clinked glasses, cups, or tumblers, and toasted Robert’s new name.
