“Oh, I think we donated it to charity over the summer.”
I stared at her with wide, panicked eyes. My heart thudded wildly in my chest. The Hulk Hogan action figure had been the toy my brothers and I always cherished. It had been a huge staple in our lives. It had Christmas with us, went on vacation with us, sat at the table for meals, was in all of our first day of school pictures, swam with us. My mouth went dry as I heard my mother say she tossed out part of our lives so carelessly.
“Relax, Morgan. I’m just teasing. You think I could get rid of that thing? It’s like my fifth child. It’s on Chase’s bed.”
I swallowed hard and managed to smile.
“Thank God, woman. You scared me.” I turned and headed back to the second floor. “I need to send a picture to Hollis,” I called out over my shoulder.
I went into Chase’s old room and went straight to Hulk Hogan. I picked him up and planned my revenge picture as I carried him down to the kitchen. Dad was at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee and a plate of toast crumbs in front of him.
“Morning, Dad.” I glanced around for the perfect set up.
“Good morning, Morgan,” Dad replied and set the paper down. “I see Hulk Hogan is making his appearance.”
“He’s sending one of his funny picture texts to Hollis,” Mom explained while I put two slices of bread in the toaster. “Do you need any help with that, sweetie?” she asked as I pulled a small plate down from the new-smelling cabinets. I turned to look at her and smiled when I realized she was serious.
“It’s a toaster, Mom. I’m well acquainted with them,” I teased.
I set a coffee mug under the coffee machine and tossed a caramel flavored coffee pod into the slot. While the coffee brewed, I buttered and plated the toast, then carried it and Hulk to the table. After I collected my coffee, I set it beside the plate of toast and positioned Hulk so he leaned his back against the coffee mug and set his feet against the toast. I flipped opened my camera app and took a picture of Hulk and sent it to Hollis. As I ate and chatted with my folks, I decided to send it to Chase too. I was typing out a quick text to Chase when Hollis replied.
Hulk looks good! He’s maintained his weight for so long. Patrick said it looks like he’s aged well too.
I readhis text to Mom and Dad, and they were amused by how much joy this little action figure had been responsible for. As I ate my toast, Chase replied. His response hadn’t surprised me at all. It was so Chase.
You should pull his leg out to the side like he’s farting. Or put his hands and feet on the table so his butt is in the air and farting.
I readChase’s text to my parents, and they laughed. I started the reply to Chase, reminding him I was home and in town for a few weeks so we could get together.
“How is Chase doing?” I asked my parents. I talked to Chase every day via text and felt like I had a good grip on how he was doing, but my parents saw him more.
“He’s doing well. His advertising company is starting to take off,” Dad reported.
“And he’s still doing volunteer work for the support groups,” Mom added.
“He’s mentioned that in our texts. But how does he seem when you see him?” I asked again because they seemed to gloss over my question or just didn’t understand what I was asking.
Chase’s situation had been difficult for my parents. Actually, it had been a tough pill for the whole family to swallow. When Chase was a young teenager, he’d been desperate to latch on to something that he felt he could say he was good at. He fell into modeling, and an exceptionally dark side of it engulfed him. He’d been one of many whom a particular modeling firm had molested and exposed to the porn world. Drugs, alcohol, wild parties, and sex. The young models had been forced to perform under the threat that if they didn’t, pictures would be leaked, which would hurt the careers of their families. Coincidently, all of the young models selected had some connection to a bigger celebrity or a prominent public figure. Chase had been told that Hollis’ career would be damaged if he told anyone. So it went on and on for years until Chase was forced into sex with another model and got her pregnant. Chase had attempted suicide, and everything unraveled.
Our parents blamed themselves for years. Hollis, Patrick, and I had made Chase our priority. But the road to recovery and healing isn’t as easy as people think.
When I was in high school, we took in Hollis’ best friend who had only known a life of abuse in all forms. He struggled from time to time acclimating to a violence-free home. I often compared his situation with Chase’s. They were both victims of violence and abuse. But I didn’t think it was easier to go from only knowing abuse to suddenly not having it in your life, rather than to know nothing about it and then suddenly find yourself trapped in the middle of it.
“He’s doing well, Morgan. He comes over and helps us out. He talks and jokes like he used to,” Mom said.
“He still likes cheese pizza,” Dad added.
Dad took things particularly hard. Chase had been his little buddy. I didn’t want to pull up old stuff or upset my parents, so I left it at that. I’d see Chase soon enough and could tell for myself. I finished my text to Chase.
I’m working until seven tonight. Would you like to get dinner after that?
Yeah. Want to meet somewhere or want me to come by the house?
It’ll be late enough, so how about we meet? You pick the place and just text me the location. I’ll be meeting with clients off and on this afternoon, so my text responses might be delayed.
Okie dokie. No problem. I’ll see what my buds are in the mood for and will let you know.
Buds?Was he bringing people? I only wanted to spend time with him.
