“I pretended to be your brother. Thanked them profusely for looking out for you. Told them I’d take it from here.”
“And they just went along with it?”
“One of them started to argue, but I took out my cellphone, took a bunch of pictures and pretended I was putting them online right then and there as proof of how messy you were,” he stops talking abruptly, his throat working as he swallows repeatedly. Then he laughs, a harsh bark of sound cuts through the air, before saying, “It was an impulsive move, but thinking back about it now, I’m sure that’s what saved both of us.”
“You think they would’ve tried to get you, too?”
Ren gives me an incredulous look, his eyebrows raise, eyes wide. “For fucking sure, man. I was significantly outnumbered.They could’ve just yanked me inside and choked me out and no one would’ve been the wiser.”
The crowd is silent but for the occasional sniffle, a quiet sob. “But you got me out?”
“Yes,” he answers and then laughs quietly. “And it was no easy feat cause you’re a heavy fucker for sure.”
Relieved for the change in tone I chuckle, nod. “Yeah, started lifting weights as a teenager. Had to put on the muscle with my brother and his friends or else I’da had my ass handed to me on the regular.”
“I managed to rouse you enough to give me minimal effort,” he adds, his expression once again turning serious. “But once I got you in the room, it was lights out, but for the occasional rambling and ghost fighting.”
“Ghost fighting?”
He shrugs, his gaze flitting back to the crowd as he explains, “It’s difficult to explain, but it was almost like you were fighting yourself in your drugged up dreams. I learned to just stay back until it passed.”
I watch him for a moment, knowing full well this conversation cost him, even before I learned his own very personal experience with the topic. Leaning over, I put my hand over the top of his where it’s resting on the arm of the chair. He looks over at me and I say, quietly, “See, this is why I’ve always said I will never be able to repay you for stepping in. I truly believe if you had not been there, I would’ve vanished completely, sucked into the dark abyss of evil.”
He pats the back of my hand a few times with his free hand, nods then looks back out over the auditorium. With a final squeeze of his hand I also look back to the audience, all waiting in various stages of emotional upheaval. “I know many of you are wondering why I’m bringing this up.” I stand, walk the length of the stage, turn back and stop in the middle. “With everythinggoing on in this country, I think it’s difficult to remember that we’re not alone in so many of our trials and tribulations.
“I mean, this right here is a prime example of what I’m talking about. After all these years, I had no idea one of my closest friends lived a similar trauma. We discussed what happened to me at length, and still, I had no idea.” I turn back to Ren and ask, “Do you mind sharing why you never told me?”
He shrugs. “A few reasons, really,” he sighs, shakes his head then goes on, “First, I didn’t want to take away from what happened to you by interjecting my own story.”
“But you know that I would not have been upset if you had?”
“Of course I do now, but not in the moment. And then, as time went on, it just never really came up.”
I nod, “That makes sense.”
“Second, I was embarrassed that it even happened. Then questioned if it truly did happen. And then became embarrassed all over again when I had to accept that it did indeed happen.
“Because, unlike women who, sadly, constantly feel they have to look over their shoulder, men have this false sense of security that this shit doesn’t happen to them,” Ren explains, his expression and tone becoming increasingly angry. “We’re fed this false narrative that men can’t be assaulted, men can’t be raped, men can’t be abu—,” he cuts off his own words, looks away, nostrils flared, jaw clenched. He inhales audibly, the sound cutting through the auditorium like the silent scream it is.
He continues to look away, his jaw working as I interject, “And then men become less than because of what happened to them?”
He nods, swallows. Whispers, “Yes.”
I turn back to the audience, suddenly feeling incredibly heavy in that moment. They’re all looking on, some with anger, other with tears, and the silence extends. Then, a light pops up in themiddle of the audience. Then another and another, until, the auditorium is filled with tiny little beacons of solidarity.
Ren looks out of the crowd, also realizing what it symbolizes. I fall back into my chair, allowing the moment to wrap around me, the sheer emotion of it all enough to remind me that we truly are not alone.
After a while the lights go out, a hush falling over the room.
“Now that we’ve got that whole mess out of the way,” I begin, brushing nonexistent dirt from the front of my shirt. “We can end the night with a bit of hope.”
The tension in the air eases, the crowd shifts back into anticipatory electricity. Ren looks at me and asks, “Now what?” and I chuckle as I look to the crowd and say, “Did you hear that Ren retired from hockey?”
The crowd cheers and jeers, then falls silent again. “Well, it turns out he’s gonna retire from hockey the same way I retired from music.” I stand, walk to the edge of the stage, hands outstretched in front of me. “He’s gonna work harder than he ever has in his entire life to make money for someone other than himself,” I turn back to Ren and grin as I add, “Cause if you think this gig is a nice easy retirement, you are greatly mistaken.
“As you all know, we’ve spent the last year collecting funds for a variety of charities. We’ve done quite a bit to fight food insecurity, illiteracy, and gaps in adequate healthcare coverage. Programs that will enrich and educate American children, help American families get ahead, maybe feel less alone in their struggles.”
I fall silent, staring out at a crowd much like the countless crowds I’ve entertained throughout my career, but, for some reason, this one feel different.
