Loving Jay Part 5

No one seemed willing to come to the aid of the outnumbered man, and it was three to one. The bullies were men-barely. Late teens, I judged. Local unemployed thugs who seemed to spend their time vandalizing buildings and cars from what the newspaper said. They pushed their victim between them, laughing loudly and having great fun. I suddenly saw a flash of hot pink and my head swung around, zeroing in on the blond head I could see between the shoulders of the bullies.

Jay.

He must've been on the train with me and I didn't see him in the crowd. He must've had to work late, like me. He must've run into trouble out here with the three stooges.

I registered these thoughts in a millisecond, and my heart froze as I watched Thug Number One swing him around and slam him face-first, hard, up against the brick wall. Jay's head snapped back as he crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain. I heard the yelp of pain and didn't even realize I was moving until Thug Number One was within arm's reach. Thug Number Two had moved in and landed a kick in Jay's side and I saw red. But I was already running on my bung leg, yelling at the top of my voice. Number One turned at my yell as I barreled into him, dropping my shoulder into his side, pushing him into Thug Number Two and sending them both sprawling on the concrete.

"You leave him the f.u.c.k alone!" I realized it was my voice shouting and the violence in it scared me.

Thug Number Three turned and eyed me up and down. "Who the f.u.c.k do you think you are, motherf.u.c.ker?" he growled at me.

All I heard was Jay whimpering in pain. Number Three took a swing at me, which I dodged, so he brought his foot around to kick out at me. The useless idiot was wearing white sneakers so I saw the foot coming at me from a mile away. Four brothers and roughhousing with them for twenty-four years stood me in good stead, and I jumped to the side to avoid the upward thrust of his shoe, followed through with my arm, chopped upward, pushed his leg up beyond its normal flexibility, and sent him completely off balance.

He smashed into the ground with a large thud. I heard the crack of his skull with great pleasure.

I turned to defend myself from Number One and Number Two, only to find that not all humankind had lost their humanity. A middle-age woman was thumping Number One over the head with her handbag, while a white-haired old-timer in a business suit had Number Two's arm twisted up behind his back and was kneeing him to the ground.

I registered the flashing lights approaching with relief, but my focus turned to Jay. Beautiful, lively Jay who was still curled in a ball on the ground. I dropped to my knees beside him, ignoring the blast of pain from my leg, and slowly turned him toward me, terrified of what I would see.

It was better and worse than I expected. Half his face was covered in blood, but I quickly noted that it was just a gash under his eye-the blood dripping down to his chin. I could see grazes on his cheek where he had hit the wall, and his eye was swelling, turning purple already. But his eyes were thankfully open, and he blinked rapidly as he struggled to focus on me.

"Jay? Jay? s.h.i.t, dude! Are you okay?"

He turned toward me, confused and scared. "Liam?"

"Yeah, man. It's me. It's okay, dude. I've got you. They won't hurt you again. I won't let them get you again." He buried his b.l.o.o.d.y face in my shirt and I hugged him tight, rocking him slightly back and forth. "They won't get you. I'll take care of you. It'll be okay." I felt him burst into tears against my chest and I stroked his back in comfort. "I've got you. I've got you."

I was aware of people shouting and yelling behind me, but I just crouched over Jay, protecting him from any further harm. Someone touched my shoulder and said, "Is he okay?"

I continued my rocking as Jay sobbed. "I don't know," I answered the stranger. "I think so. Shh, Jay! It's okay. I've got you."

"Okay," the stranger answered. "The ambulance is on its way."

Ambulance? With shock I comprehended what had just happened. Jay had been attacked by three men and I had fought them. Was I in trouble? Was I going to be arrested? s.h.i.t! Maybe I would need to call Dale for that favor before the night was through. I looked around and there were a heck of a lot of cars with flashing lights on them and men in uniform. And, of course, the gawkers. I could see two cops cars and a rail transit guard car, all stopped at odd angles with their doors open, as if the men inside had rushed out, too hurried to even close the doors. The stranger who talked to me turned out to be a rail guard, and he just stood next to me, waiting in silence. There were cops talking to commuters, their notebooks and pens out, taking notes.

"Liam?" Jay's feeble voice reached me and I looked down at him. His good eye looked unfocused and that worried me. His left eye was swollen so only a small slit remained. The bit I could see was blood filled.

"Yeah, dude?"

"Liam, my head hurts." He sounded confused and dazed.

"I know, man. Can you hang on just a bit longer? Help is coming." Reaction had set in and he was beginning to shiver. I rubbed his arm up and down.

"Don't leave me, Liam."

The ambulance people finally arrived and made their way toward us. One was a woman and she gently touched me. "Hi. I'm Mandy. I'm a paramedic. Can I have a look at your friend?"

"He's hurt." That sounded dumb, even to me. But the flashing lights were beginning to give me a headache. I wasn't thinking properly.

Mandy smiled. "I know, love. So just let him go and I can have a look at him. We can take him to the hospital and make him all better, hmm?"

I loosened my arms around him and she gently took him from me, laying him on the ground and asking him questions. He looked terrible covered in blood.

The paramedics asked me to step back and give them some room and I was ashamed to admit to them I couldn't move. "I've done something to my leg. It's all cramped up and killing me. Can you give me a hand to stand?"

The transit guard helped me to my feet-make that foot. I couldn't straighten my bad leg so he sat me back down on the curb where I could watch Jay. They checked him out, shining lights in his eyes, placing white squares of gauze on his face to stop the bleeding, checking his blood pressure and all. Then they brought the gurney over and loaded him on. Mandy turned to me while her workmate tucked him in a white blanket and tightened the straps around him. She squatted in front of me.

"Are you Liam?"

I nodded. "Is he going to be alright?"

She smiled gently. "He'll need some st.i.tches under his eye and he has some bruising to his abdomen. Our biggest worry at the moment is concussion. They'll run tests on him at the hospital and he'll probably have to stay overnight, but I'm sure he'll be fine. He was asking for you, you know."

"Can I go with him?"

"Well, I was coming over here to check you out. Are you hurt?"

"Old injury. I have two plates and nine screws in my thigh. I've just reinjured the muscle around it, I think."

Mandy nodded. "Okay, then. How about we help you up and you can take a ride with us and you can get it checked out?"

So they helped me into the van and I rode with Jay. We rushed toward the city and regretfully reversed the journey we had just endured on the crowded train. Jay seemed really out of it, rambling on about nothing, before he recognized me and profusely apologized for leaving me with the bill at lunch. He seemed to think it had just happened.

At the hospital we were separated, much to my dismay. Jay was whisked straight inside for tests, and I had to wait in the ER for my turn with my less-urgent injury. I sat next to a woman with a three-day migraine and a man who'd managed to poke a knife through his hand while separating frozen hamburgers. I ma.s.saged my thigh and applauded at how joyful my life was turning out to be. Here I was, about six blocks away from my office-back in the city, when all I really wanted was my bed and a good beer.

The police showed up and I gave them my version of events. They seemed on the up-and-up so I asked them if I was in trouble.

The older man gave me a hard stare and asked, "Why do you think you would be in trouble, son?"

"For a.s.sault. I heard that third guy's skull crack on the ground. Is he going to be okay?"

The police shared a glance before the younger guy clapped me on the shoulder. "He's fine. He needs some st.i.tches to the back of his head, but no cracks to the bone. You're not in any trouble; you were defending your friend from a gay bashing. The offenders will probably be charged with a hate crime over their actions."

"Gay bashing?" Stupidly I had never thought of Jay being targeted because he was gay. "I thought it was just a random thing?"

"No, son," the older policeman answered. "There are several witnesses who overheard the offenders saying some h.o.m.ophobic things. It will be charged as a hate crime." They left me alone then, alone with my pain and alone with my thoughts.

I was floored. In the back of my mind I was scared-if I announced to the world I was gay, was this what I had to look forward to? Potential bashings as I got off the train? Is this what Jay had to put up with all the time?

They called my name and I suffered through the embarra.s.sment of having a wheelchair brought out for me. Then I submitted myself to an examination while explaining over and over about my old injuries and how I had come to reinjure my leg. The hands of the clock ticked around slowly as I waited for X-rays and asked about Jay. One of the nurses patted the calf on my good leg and told me they couldn't tell me anything because I wasn't family.

"But I'm his friend. We came together in the ambulance," I protested.

She gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I know he's already been admitted and moved to a ward. His family is with him now. You'll have to ask them."

My X-rays came back clear and I was diagnosed with torn muscles. They strapped my thigh, dosed me with a strong painkiller, and told me to call a family member for a lift home. Then I was given a pair of crutches and dismissed.

It was like deja vu-bad deja vu-being on crutches again. I had spent nearly a whole year on them and never wanted to again. I hobbled on my crutches to the bench outside the ER and fished out my phone. s.h.i.t! Ten o'clock! It had been a f.u.c.ked-up day and I was exhausted. For a millisecond I considered calling a taxi, but in the end the comfort of family was calling louder. I opted to call Dale. He was the closest to the hospital and he owed me.

"Liam? What's wrong?" How comforting that my brother knew there was something wrong the second I called him after nine o'clock at night.

I sighed loudly into the phone. "Can you come and get me? I'm at Royal Perth Hospital in the city. I've f.u.c.ked up my leg. I just need a ride."

I love family. There was no mucking around. All he said was "I'll be there in ten." He hung up and I sighed in relief. I looked at my phone for a second and sighed again before bringing up Jay's number. I typed in a message and pressed "send."

Let me know how you are, please? The hosp won't tell me coz I'm not family. Text me when you can, even if it is the middle of the night.

DALE WAS true to his word and twelve minutes after he hung up, he pulled his car to a stop in the "No Standing Zone" in front of the ER where I waited. I struggled to my feet-foot!-with the crutches, and limped over to him. He jumped out to open the door for me, and surveyed my appearance.

"s.h.i.t, Liam! What the h.e.l.l happened to you?"

Unsure, I looked down at myself and realized my once pristine light blue shirt was absolutely covered in blood. Jay's blood.

"It's not from me," I muttered as I heaved myself inside the car. Dale stowed my crutches in the back-I hadn't had to use them for a long time, but my brothers obviously knew the routine well. He started the car and drove off, winding his way through the empty city streets to the freeway.

"What happened, mate?"

I leaned tiredly back against the headrest and closed my eyes. "I stopped a fight. Three f.u.c.kheads were messing with a friend of mine. It's his blood. They smashed him into a wall, the f.u.c.kers."

"Is he okay?"

"I dunno." I felt like crying. I could feel the p.r.i.c.ks of sensation behind my eyelids as I fought the tears. I was so tired and on top of that, I didn't know a f.u.c.k about Jay's condition. "They won't tell me a f.u.c.king thing at the hospital. Because I'm not family. The ambulance lady said he needed st.i.tches and had concussion."

"Ambulance?"

I opened my eyes to grin at him. "Yeah. I got another swell ride in an ambulance. You missed it this time!" It was Dale who had been driving the car when I was hurt. He'd ridden in the ambulance with me-not that I remembered. I had been unconscious.

Dale shook his head at me in disgust. "So you took on three attackers by yourself?"

"Straight up!" I chuckled, closing my eyes again. "It sounds good, doesn't it? But it wasn't that cool. I simply pushed one guy over, who fell and pushed the second guy over. Then I tripped the third guy and it was finished. They were punks who had no idea how to throw a punch. They never even touched me. I f.u.c.ked my leg up by running to Jay's aid."

"Jay?"

"My friend. We catch the train together in the morning."

I must've fallen asleep then, because next thing I knew Dale was standing beside me with the door open and crutches ready, shaking me awake. "Come on, mate. Let's get you inside and to bed."

We stumbled together to the lift and into my apartment. Dale helped me off with my pants and shirt and I tumbled face-first onto the pillows with a groan.

"Thanks, Dale." He pulled the covers up over me.

"Call me tomorrow when you wake up, okay? I'll be waiting."

"Mm-hmm." I was more than half-asleep when a sudden thought occurred to me. "Dale?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell the others, okay?"

"Why not?"

"I just don't want them to know. They'll fuss. I don't like that."

Dale was silent for a moment and I thought he had left. But finally he sighed, "Okay, mate. Your call. Just make sure you ring me tomorrow."

I didn't hear him close my front door behind him. I was already asleep.

Chapter 7.

A TEXT woke me the next morning. I fumbled for my alarm, bashing it a couple of times before I realized the sound was my phone. I rolled over and yelled in agony as my leg protested. I froze in mid-roll, breathing hard through the pain as I slowly woke. Thoughts of the night before returned to me and my eyes flew open in alarm. Jay!

Ignoring my throbbing leg, I peered over the side of the bed at my clothes strewn across the floor. My mobile was somewhere in that pile. I reached out with my arm and managed to snag the cuff of my pants and pulled them toward me. The phone chimed again from the depths of the clothing as if to tell me to hurry up.

"I'm coming. I'm coming," I muttered as I fished for my pants pocket. At last I pulled the phone free and with a groan I flopped back on the pillow. Praying it was Jay on the other end of the message, I swiped at the screen. There were three new messages-all from Jay. Bleary-eyed, I glanced at the time at the top of the screen-it was 7:48 a.m. and Jay's first message had come through sixteen minutes ago.

OMG! R u okay? I think I remember you in the ambulance but the stupid nurses here don't know anything about what happened! What happened???

Then two minutes later: I'm okay. My good looks are totally f.u.c.ked, though! LOL! I have three st.i.tches in my face and I look like I've gone three rounds with Muhammad Ali. I need to wait for the dr to do her rounds this morn.

Then nine minutes after that: R U OK? If you can, make sure you listen to the radio this morning at 10:00 a.m. I am starting to panic about you. R U OK?

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It seemed as if the old Jay was back, and he was bruised but fine. Nutty and firmly in his panicky banana tree, but fine. I pulled up the text screen and hesitated over what to say. There was too much to say in a text, so I kept it simple.

I'm fine. Stuffed my leg up more. Can I come and see you?

I managed to limp to the bathroom and take care of my pressing needs before Jay replied. Of course! I have to stay until after lunch. I'm in room 314.

I MADE the required call to Dale, who told me to take the day off work, but I didn't want to, so I showered and ate before swallowing some strong painkillers and limped into work on my crutches. One good thing about the crutches was that I got a seat on the crowded train.

I was at my desk by 9:30 a.m. and weathered my concerned colleagues' questions by simply saying I had aggravated an old injury. It was just before ten o'clock when I streamed Jay's radio program on my computer. Jay didn't say what radio station to listen to, but I a.s.sumed he meant 95.2 FM.

I listened to the hourly news, shushing Chan as he arrived and asked about the crutches propped up next to my desk. I wondered what Jay wanted me to listen to, but I didn't have long to wait before I found out. After the news bulletin and two ads, Harry Green introduced the interview part of the program.

Welcome back. You are listening to ninety-five-point-two with Harry Green on this chilly Thursday. In just a minute we will be joined by Police Commissioner Charlie Adamson, but first I wish to send warmest greetings to two particular young men this morning. Many of my faithful listeners will have heard me mention my extraordinary a.s.sistant, James, who works extremely hard behind the scenes to bring us all the information we need to hear. Many will have spoken to him on the phone when they ring in to the program. He is a hard-working, brilliant young man who I would be lost without.

It therefore pains me to tell you all that this extraordinary young man is in hospital this morning, recovering from a vicious and unprovoked attack that happened last night. It is deeply disturbing that a person cannot be safe simply traveling home from their workplace. I am appalled to think that some of the people out there, in our society today, think that being different is an excuse to attack and hurt another.

You see, James is just like you and me-he works hard, he pays his taxes, he obeys the law, he votes, he loves his family. But James is also proudly and unapologetically gay. And last night three vicious men decided that he should have to pay for that with blood and pain. I therefore send the warmest wishes of this entire radio station to James. We hope you get better soon.

I also extend the warmest grat.i.tude to his rescuer, Liam. James tells me that while others who witnessed the attack were too afraid to take on these young men, Liam took them all on single-handed and protected James from further harm until the authorities arrived. So we thank Liam for his bravery and his disregard for his own safety, in order to protect another. We all need more people like Liam in this world.