Friday, March 23rd
It was 0500 by the time Wes returned home with Troy. “I’m sorry, bro, you look exhausted. Let’s get you to bed,” he said to Troy.
“I’m good,” Troy insisted.
“And I’m blind. C’mon up to bed.” Wes held the elevator for him.
Troy sat heavily on the corner of the bed and rested his crutches against the wall. “You’re right. I’m done.”
“I’m worried.” He held up his hands. “I’m not here to rat you out to the doctors for overdoing things. What can I do?” Wes asked.
“I need to use the restroom, and you can help me with these damn braces. Could you hand me the blue bag in my suitcase and grab a clean tee and pajama bottoms?”
“Sure thing. Do you want to take a shower? We’re a little smoky,” Wes suggested.
“Yeah. We both reek,” Troy chuckled. “I need to get the braces off.”
Wes helped him remove the support devices. He could see the scars from his broken femur and knees. The shower had a built-in bench. “I’ll have maintenance put in a shower bar tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” Troy looked down.
“Am I the first to see?” Wes asked.
“Yeah, not since Jule saw me in the ER in Silverton.” Troy leaned on Wes to enter the large bathroom. “I need to sit on the toilet to cap the bag.” He reached for the blue bag. After unzipping it, he pulled out a pair of gloves, a small cap and a white bag, placing them on the sink. Slowly, he removed his t-shirt.
Wes kept his eyes steady. A deep pain ran through him seeing the scars bisecting his friend’s torso and the colostomy. The pain he survived had to be unimaginable. “Talk to me.”
“Pretty gross, huh?” Troy shrugged.
“The horrible boiled intestines they tried to serve us in Bosnia were gross; you, my friend, remain a handsome devil.” Wes winked.
“I’m used to it now.” He put on the gloves. “A turn and drop it into the white bag. A twist of the cap and I’m ready for the shower. If my next set of scans are good, they’ll try to reverse the colostomy.”
Wes helped Troy stand and step into the shower, then helped him set and adjust the spray. After handing Troy a washcloth, he stepped out. “Howareyou, though?” he asked, his words leaden with emotion.
“Some days are better than others. The nights can be tough. The dream is always the same. Jensen and Boyd drag me to the cell door and shove me inside. A chain is swinging from a pipe in the center of the room. They hang my hands by the cuffs to a hook. Boyd hits me in the gut with the handle of the flashlight, then the dream falls apart. I saw the medical reports. I know what was done to me, but the memory is out of reach.” He lifted his hand. “It’s haunting me.” Troy sighed.
He waited for his friend to finish and helped him step out. After Troy was wrapped in a towel, Wes helped him return to the bedroom. “What’s everyone telling you?”
“Give it time.” Troy clenched his jaw. “Damn it, I want to put it behind me.”
“Put it in front of you. Admit you’re pissed off you can’t remember. Admit that if Martin didn’t kill the bastard, all the things you’d like to do to him. You realize how much you pissed him off, don’t you?” Wes helped him step into pajama bottoms.
“I was a plant. He figured it out.” He bunched his hands into fists.
“No, you never gave in. You never showed weakness. That’s where Jenner’s rage came from. He couldn’t control you.” He held the t-shirt for Troy to slip his arms into.
Troy looked confused. “I never thought of that.”
Wes was pissed that no one suggested it. “That awful day in New York, I listened to that recording of what Nolan did to Saoirse as Ice hit the floor. That animal tells him she never submitted. You turned it around for them. You got through to Ice. You were there for Saoirse. Be there for yourself. Damn it, Troy, Jenner didn’t win.”
Troy’s breathing slowed, and he appeared less tense.
“I need to tell you something.” Wes looked at his friend. “I knew they pulled you out of that damn cell and were taking you to the hole. I couldn’t get to you in time. I should’ve pulled the alarm. Some friend I am. I’m so sorry. And yesterday and today, I realized how much I missed my friend being around.”
Wes didn’t give a damn and stepped to hug his friend. He felt Troy shudder. “Let it out.” At Wes’s urging, Troy let go of his emotions and the belief that real men don’t cry.
He waited for Troy to regain his control, then Troy showed him how the colostomy system worked. When one of his pajama bottom legs snagged, Wes noticed a reddened area on the back of Troy’s calf.
