Matt was on the verge of asking William where exactly he had been during the game when the answer crystallized in his mind. The absurdity of it made him smile.
“I hear that you volunteered to deliver the card and flowers to Adam personally,” William said. “Take Josh with you. He was Adam’s sponsor, you know.”
Matt barely heard William’s words. He could not clear his mind of the image of William bouncing around in that ridiculous chicken suit. “You’re Simon Sparrow,” Matt grinned.
“One of three,” William said. “We rotate around, sometimes changing during halftime just to keep the mystery alive. Not that it’s anyreal secret, mind you. Most everyone knows but doesn’t let on, sort of how older kids keep the Santa Claus myth going.”
“Why?” Matt asked. It was the obvious question.
“I’m a performer, dahling. Besides, I overhear the most salacious gossip.” William’s gaze flicked towards the parking lot. “I just saw a Subaru pull up, which probably means there are lesbians on the premises. Now listen, I contacted their leader to see if they could help with your girlfriend problem.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Matt said. “You know that.”
“Exactly, dahling. That’s the problem. You should have one after tonight.”
Matt saw the doors open. Two female figures entered, looked their way, and beelined towards the booth.
“Hi Screech!” said the taller one.
It was Molly.
Chapter 14: Road Trip
Friday, September 1, 1995
Matt sighed. The person staring back at him in the mirror was a fraud. Changing clothes a fourth time would only make it worse. It was 7:00 a.m. In two hours, he was supposed to meet Josh, who would ride with him to deliver a care package to Adam Maxwell.
Yesterday, Matt had haunted the aisles at TLC Nursery, hunting the perfect “Thinking of You” plant. Not cut flowers because those were dead things and that seemed the wrong message for someone like Adam who had so recently been almost dead himself.
Matt had finally settled for Coleus. It had beautiful foliage that should brighten Adam’s room.
Next had been hand wringing at Hallmark, parsing the words on the competing cards, overthinking how Adam might read them. In the end, he had picked a cheery, oversized one. Now he worried whether he’d collect enough signatures to decently fill the white space on that giant card.
It was the discarded clothes littering the floor that alerted him there was more involved here than just sympathy for Adam. He was primping. Somewhere between when he’d first heard about Adam’s fate and now, he’d developed a crush on this guy he’d never met, whose picture he had never even seen.
A stealth crush that took him by surprise. He’d heard of Stockholm Syndrome, where hostages develop sympathy for their captors. Was there a term for this condition besides “creepy?”
He finished dressing, avoiding further eye contact with himself in the mirror.
He went to the cafeteria, where he hoped to get kids to sign the card. Kids who didn’t have a crush on a suicide survivor.
Once inside, he grabbed a cup of coffee, and stood near the drink station, uncertain what to do next. Adam’s giant card was tucked under one arm.
The cafeteria air was humid, chockablock full of suspended molecules of fried pork, like it could start raining sausage at any moment.
“Hey Mustang!” Idabel beckoned from a table he shared with seven other teammates.
Matt approached the table tentatively. He wasn’t sure how to start this conversation.
Idabel saved him the trouble.
“Is that for Ruth?” Idabel pointed at the card, grinned wolfishly, then returned his attention to wrapping a pancake around a sausage link.
Matt shook his head. “It’s a card for that kid, Adam Maxwell. I’m collecting signatures.” He set his coffee on the table, fetched a pen from his back pocket, and held out the card.
There were no takers.
“Who?” Idabel smeared his pancake burrito through a pool of syrup on his plate, stuffed it in his mouth. It was not a pretty sight. Syrup squished out of his lips. Apparently, the goal was to eat the whole thing in one bite, like he was competing in a contest at the county fair.
