Itnever occurred to me to be nervous or not go to the hospital. All that mattered was seeing Darwin. If I had stopped to think, I probably would have expected the greeting we received. As it was, Mr. Michaels once again caught me unprepared, both in terms of his good looks and his anger.
He happened to glance up as Jed and I stepped through the door. The curtain was pulled, so I couldn’t see Darwin or the others crowded around his bed. It took Mr. Michaels a moment to place my face. I don’t think it registered until he noticed Maudra behind me. His eyes widened and his lip curled back into a snarl.
“What the hell do you think you are doing here?” The viciousness in his voice was startling, and Jed and I both paused where we were. “Get the fuck out of this room. How dare you show your face! This is all your fault!” He started toward me, his fists clenched at his side.
A shocked sounding voice came from behind the curtain. “Craig, your language! Who are you talking to? You’re going to scare Darwin!”
Mr. Michaels paused but didn’t take his eyes off me. I noticed the sand-colored curtain rustle as a pretty woman moved it out of her way. Her brown eyes looked at me in confusion. She glanced at Mr. Michaels and then back at me, this time certain of who I was. “Mr. Morrison.” Her eyes weren’t angry or accusing, only sad. “Please come in.”
Mr. Michaels took another step toward me. “Carrie, I won’t have them in here! I won’t.”
“Brooke?” Darwin’s voice was weak as it drifted from behind the curtain.
“Get out of here!” Mr. Michaels’s face was so contorted in rage that he no longer looked handsome, barely human.
“Brooke!” Darwin sounded both excited and desperate as he called my name.
The pretty woman walked over to Mr. Michaels and laid her hand on his chest. She was dwarfed by her husband and looked like a lovely mouse attempting to quail the stampeding of an elephant. “Craig! Get ahold of yourself.” She glanced over at Darwin. “We’ll be right back, darling.Allof us.” She turned and walked toward Jed and me. “Please come in the hallway with us.”
We followed her halfway down the hall to a waiting room. I hated turning my back on Mr. Michaels as he stormed along behind us, but I managed not to look over my shoulder.
“You can call me Carrie.” She motioned for her husband to sit next to her. To my surprise, he did. She extended her hand to Jed. “And you are…?”
He took her hand. “I’m Jed, Brooke’s husband.”
“Nice to meet you both.”
“You too, Mrs. Michaels.” Jed managed to smile. I continued to stare at Mr. Michaels.
“Thank you so much for coming to see Darwin. I’m sure it will help. We found him this morning—”
“Carrie!” Mr. Michaels sounded more under control but was on the verge of slipping into a rage. “We arenotdiscussing this with them. They are not welcome here. They are not going to see Darwin.”
It was Mrs. Michaels’s turn to raise her voice. However, hers didn’t shake with anger; it seeped with determination. “Craig! Enough! We’ve done it your way enough. For years. Now we’re doing it my way.” She held his gaze, her lips a thin hard line. “If you don’t like that, leave.”
I tried not to look at them. It felt wrong to be party to this conversation, but I couldn’t manage to tear my eyes off of them.
Mr. Michaels’s face twitched. For several seconds I thought he was going to hit her, or use her as a weapon to bash our brains in. After a few moments, he crossed his arms and sank back in his chair with a grunt. His eyes bored into me, seething.
Mrs. Michaels’s voice softened as she put her hand on the arm of his chair. “It’s going to be okay, dear. We’re not sending him away from God. We’re not keeping him from being a Christian. We’re allowing him to be who he is. We’re allowing him to live.” Tears formed in her eyes as she continued. “Do we really want to go through this again? It’s not right to ask of Darwin.”
She wiped her eyes and looked back at Jed and me. “Do you know why Darwin is here?”
I shook my head.
“This morning, around two or so, Craig went to check on Darwin. He’s been so upset ever since the last youth group; then when that horrible article came out and Donnie left the youth group, well, I think it was just too much for him. He was inconsolable last night. He finally cried himself to sleep.” She glanced at Mr. Michaels before returning to us. “Thankfully, Craig just had a feeling and went to check on him in his room. He was still in bed, but he wasn’t under the covers. When Craig gotcloser, he noticed a couple of empty aspirin bottles on the sheets and a note. Darwin had taken all of them.”
She paused for a moment to blow her nose. She fluttered her hands as if to say, “moving on.” “I’ve known Darwin was gay for years, probably before he did. Craig never could accept it. He kept trying to push him into sports and other activities that would help him have healthy interaction with other boys. Darwin was always miserable.” Her tears fell more rapidly down her face. “Then you showed up. Once he finally admitted what he was doing after that youth group, he looked so happy. I couldn’t believe he was actually telling us. I didn’t think he’d ever really be strong enough to admit it. Of course, we talked about God and how to overcome such temptations, and how to stay away from people who would lead him into the wrong lifestyle….” Her voice trailed off as she started crying harder.
Mr. Michaels’s eyes softened as his wife was overcome with her sorrow. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.
She looked at me with such intensity, I almost flinched. “I want you in Darwin’s life. I want him to have a good Christian role model. One who is like him. One who can show him that God loves him, that he can still live a good life as a gay man!”
It was the last thing I was expecting her to say. I looked at her stupidly for several seconds. “What about the article?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “I worked in a residential treatment facility when I lived in Montana, before I married Craig. I know how that story goes. I’ve heard enough good about you from Pastor Bron and the Durkes to know what the truth is.”
I’m sure there are people who would say I just heard what I wanted to hear, but with those words, every doubt I had been having vanished. It wasn’t Mrs. Michaels who spoke the words. It was God. He knew what the truth was. So did I.
