Ryans Odyssey

Here are Chapters 11 and 12 of Ryan's Odyssey.

I will be posting two chapters at time from now on, to give my readers a little more to read each time. I appreciated all the comments, please keep them coming.

RYAN'S ODYSSEY

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I had been sitting in the waitingroom, leafing through an outdated Sports Illustrated, waiting for Ryan to come back out, and let me know what was going on, when to my surprise I saw my father walk through the door. How did he know I was here, and how did he know that Ryan had got hurt. I got up and walked over towards him. As I got closer I could see what looked to be tears streaming down his eyes. He grabbed me and pulled me closer to his chest, letting his tears fall on the back of my neck.

I pulled away from him and said, "Dad, he's gonna be okay, it's just a hyperextended knee." I couldn't figure out why he was so upset about it.

"What are you talking about, Kyle," he asked, holding me at arms length.

"Ryan," I replied, "isn't that why your here?"

"You don't know do you," he said, taking my hand and leading me back to the couch, "Kyle, last night I didn't go home. I figured your mother needed sometime to think about what is happening to us, and I didn't want to pressure the situation, so I stayed at your Uncle Pete's. I went to work like I always do, thinking by the time I got home this afternoon, she would realize she loved you still the same, but when I got there your mother was laying in bed unconscious, an empty bottle of Jack Daniels and a bottle of bills on the pillow beside her..."

Before he could finish, I was in a fit of rage, crying as hard as I had ever cried before. Why did I have to be gay. My mother was gonna die because of my sins. I had never asked for this, I would have rather been straight, fell in love with some girl, got married, and gave my mother grandkids, to spoil rotten. I got up to walk out of the room, when my father caught me in a big bear hug.

"It's all my fault," I screamed, "I hate being gay."

"Listen," my father shouted, "You didn't ask or do anything to make yourself gay. It's just the way thinks are. You blame yourself, and your mother blames herself. Like maybe she gave you a bad gene that causes homosexuality. Nobody is to blame. Things are just the way they are, because that's the way they are, and blame isn't gonna help anything. Know we have to be strong for your mother and let her know that we both still love her."

"Kyle," I heard shouting come from down the corridor. I turned and saw Ryan walking towards the waitingroom, on a new pair of crutches, a brace around his knee."

At that moment right there, I realized that I wasn't to blame, cause even in crutches, Ryan was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

• • • • • • • I could see Kyle's dad sitting next to Kyle and thought that the school had called him and told him what had happened, but I was not prepared for what happened next. Kyle ran up to him and I could see he was crying.

"What's a matter?" I asked, "I'm gonna be okay, I can't play Friday, but I'll live."

Mr. Thomas walked up to us and helped us both to sit down. "Ryan, Kyle's mom tried to committ suicide..."

"Oh, shit," I said, "I am so sorry...I...I..." I didnt' know what to say, instead I just turned around, dropped the crutches and ran out of the waitingroom and out into the street. I leaned against a tall tree in front of the hospital, when I felt a pair of arms turn me around. I looked Kyle straight into the eyes and knew he knew the truth.

"Okay, Ryan," he said, not even trying to hide the anger in his voice, "what gives, nobody with an injury like you supposedly have, can run like that."

"I...I...I..."

"Don't lie to me," he said, "I can handle anything, but I can't deal with being lied with. Why did you fake an injury."

"Jarod knows, " I said, "He has a photo of us kissing on the road, and is threatening to expose it to everyone if I don't do as he says. He wants the glory back that I supposedly stole from him, so I had to fake the injury to let him start the game on Friday."

"I understand why you are doing what your doing," he said, "but what I don't understand is why you couldn't tell me. I love you more then life itself and would stand beside you through anything." He took a quick look around to make sure nobody was watching, then leaned in and gave me a quick kiss, but it was enough to send chills down my spin. "Don't do anything you feel is wrong just to protect me. I figure soon or later it's gonna get out, and when it does we will deal with it together, and hold our heads up high."

All this time I had been afraid of Kyle's strength, when in reality he was the stronger one of the two of us. He helped me walk back into the hospital and into the waitingroom, where we saw his father talking to the doctor. Kyle's mom had fallen into a deep coma, and the doctor said that until she came out of it, there was no way of telling the extent of the injuries. He said he wasn't gonna lie to us, and tell us he thought she was gonna be okay. He was straight with us, when he said, in most cases like this the patient rarely if ever regained consciousness, and those who did, usually never lived the kinds of lives they lived before. We thanked him, and then Kyle's dad suggested that we both go on home, since there was nothing that could be done, and he would call us if anything happened that we should know about. I grabbed the crutches even though I knew I didn't need them, and walked towards my truck.

When I got to my house, I saw a strange car, I had never seen before parked in the space where I usually parked my truck.

"Did mom buy a new car or something?" Kyle asked.

"She didn't say anything to me," I replied, as we walked up the front walk to the door. When I walked into the kitchen, my mother and some man I had never seen before were sitting at the table drinking coffee. "Hi, honey," my mom said, " sit down, we need to talk, you to Kyle,"

We both sat down, I refused to take my eyes off this stranger sitting at the table. There was something familiar about him, something I just couldn't put my finger on, when all of a sudden it hit me hard, knocking me back out of my chair...I got up ran out the backdoor of the house and kept running until I reached the park. I sat down in the swing and started yelling at the top of my voice, the tears streaming down my face. Kyle's mom was hanging on for her life, and here the last person I had ever expected to see in mine was sitting in my kitchen.

Nobody had to tell me. I knew that man was my father

I had came home from work early, got on the internet and tried to find all the information I could about homosexuality. I read everything I could for over three hours. Learning the experts believed it wasn't a choice that most people made, but an extra gene that some people are born with which determines our sexual preference before we are even aware of having a sexual prefrence. I had read almost everything I could find, when I heard a knock on the door. I got up to open it, and to say I was shocked at seeing the person standing on the otherside would have been an understatement. I hadn't seen him in over fourteen years, but I would never forget his face. I wanted to slam the door shut in his face, but instead I just sat there dumbfounded.

"What do you want, Wayne?" I asked.

"Can we talk Tricia," he said.

"Fourteen years and now you wanna talk," I said, "I don't know what I have to say to you...oh, yes I do, but after fourteen years I don't think it matters much do you?"

"I deserved that," he said, "please give me just a few minutes of your time and let me explain what happened..."

"How can you explain walking out on your wife and baby son," she said, "Oh, and by the way if you were gonna ask, yes your son is fine, in fact, he is better then fine. He's one of the most beautiful boys around and everyone loves him."

"I didn't think anything less," he said, "please let me talk to you."

I let him into the house, made a fresh pot of coffee, and sat down, when Ryan and Kyle walked in. The first thing I noticed was Ryan's crutches. I was about to ask what happened, when I saw the look in Ryan's eyes and he bolted out the door.

"Ryan," I screamed to his back, the crutches laying on the floor, and knew what he was doing.

"Stay here," I said to Kyle, and took off out the backdoor chasing down Ryan. I knew where he was going. I ran around the corner and saw him sitting on the swing in the park. I walked towards him, grabbed him and held him to my chest.

He looked up at me and said, "that man is my father, isn't he mom?"

"Yes, honey," I said, "He just showed up without warning." I held his face out at arms length and said, "It's up to you if you wanna talk to him...if you don't then I will understand, but I think we should at least give him a chance, to explain himself if nothing else."

I helped him up and we walked back towards the house.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Jarod," John Titan yelled, "You've got to hit the hole faster. A split second can be the difference between a hugh gain or a substantial loss. Ryan would have gained at least ten yards on that play, and you get stopped at the line. Get your head in the game, or were gonna see if one of those freshmen on JV can do the job better then you. Lightning struck once, and who says it can't again."

I hated him almost as much as Ryan. The way he always acted like he was better then anyone else. Nobody crossed Jarod Mitchell without paying for it, and believe you me, everybody who had crossed my path would fill my rath. I was lined up behind John waiting for the play, when I saw the little faggot walk into the stadium. This morons actually thought I liked him, but in reality the only reason I had suggested him for team manager was so I could have the best of both worlds. I would start at runningback and lead the team to the state championship, and maybe him and Ryan would slip up and out themselves, then life would be just perfect.

"Jarod," I heard a voice calling, "Practice is over here."

"Hey, he's got the hot's for Kyle," Carl Vandenburg said, "not only his he trying to take Ryan's position, but also Ryan's man."

"Yeah," Raul Martinez, our starting tight end, said, "that's why he suggested Kyle as team manager so he could stare at his ass."

"Okay, boys," John said, "We are here to practice. Like coach said, we can't succome to the hype that's being written about us. Sternville has most of their starters returning this year, and has I recall we had a pretty tough time with them last year, and with Ryan out, we're gonna have to work a little harder, so Jarod doesn't screw things up...Okay boys, were gonna run J-14-black36."

The play was designed for me to take the pitchout from John, and hit the hole between the left tackle and the guard. Instead I cut right and tried to hit the whole between the right tackle and the right guard only to be met head-on by Javier Gomez, and dropped for a loss. Before I could shake the cobwebs out of my head, John was standing over me.

"J-14-black36," he yelled, "J is the hole between the left tackle and left guard. 14 is the blocking assignment number, and black 36 is a pitch out to the tailback to the left side. Like I said, if you can't get this fucking shit right, then get the hell off my football field, and well bring up a JV player. This is your final warning. I am a senior this year, and lazy sonofabitches like you are not gonna keep me from getting my state championship."

I wanted to hit him so bad, just jump on him and pound on his prettyboy face, until he begged me to stop. I smiled as I thought of the fact.

I was about to jump up and follow Ryan out the door, when mom told me to wait there. Here my own real mother was laying in a hospital bed and I was more concerned about Ryan then I was about her. I still loved her, there was no question to that, but she had hurt me real bad and I was still having diffuculty coming to terms with that. I sat across the table from this man, who I had never seen before, but there was something in his eyes of familiarity I knew I had seen before. And then it hit me, and I knew why Ryan had run out of the house like he had. I had seen those same eyes this morning when I woke up, they were the same eyes that belonged to Ryan.

"Are you Ryan's father?" I asked.

He looked straight at me and said, "Yes. My name is Peter Wayne Stuttermill, but most folks just call me Wayne." He extended his hand across the table and I took it .

"Are you a school friend of my boy's?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, "Ryan is my best friend." I really wanted to say that Ryan was my boyfriend, and if he hurt him in any way I would hunt him down and hurt him.

We were sitting in the kitchen, when I saw the front door open and Ryan and his mother walk back in. I felt a need to stand up and go and wrap my arms around him and protect him from whatever was about to happen. But for some reason I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Hello father," Ryan said, as he walked into the kitchen.

"Hello, son," his father replied, "how have you been getting along."

"What are you doing here?" Ryan asked, no pretense, no beating around the bush.

"I wanted to see how you were doing." his father replied.

Ryan walked to the sink, poured himself a glass of water, sollowed it all in one gulp and then turned back towards his father, You could feel and hear the venom in his voice. "Fourteen years, I hear nothing from you. Little League all the other's kids father's are there, The time I fell off my bike and had to get stiches in my head, you weren't there. I may have only been two when you left, but I can still remember crying myself to sleep, thinking I had been a bad boy and you left because of me. But I realized with time that I had done nothing wrong. Me, mom and Robin, oh yeah, just in case you didn't know I have a little sister we both love dearly, have done just fine all these years without you. So if you came here hoping I would accept you and tell you how much I missed you, and act like fourteen years hadn't passed by, then you are sadly mistaken. Now tell me again what are you doing here.?"

"It's not easy for me to say this," he said, "But I think you need to hear me out before you go and judge me." * * * * * * * *

I had promised my mother that I would hear him out. Give him a chance to explain the reasoning behind abandoning his wife and child without so much as a word. What reason's could he possible have for abandoning his family.

"I have no excuse for what I did," he said, "The only thing I can say was I was scared, but I know that isn't a reason to run out, but I did what I did, and before I knew it it was too late to turn back. You don't know how many times I wanted to come back home, but my selfish pride, yes thats all it was, kept me from turning that corner and running back here, coupled with the fact that I was almost sure Tricia would never take me back. Years passed, and before I realized it fourteen years had come and gone, and I just had to see you once again. I saw you, but if you never want to see me again, then I will understand."

I didn't know what to say. Part of me wanted to get to know the man that was my father, but a bigger part of me just wanted to throw him out on the street and tell him to leave my sight and never show his face around me again. I walked behind Kyle placed my hands on his shoulders, and I could feel in his body movements that it was okay for me to tell my father about us.

"If you want to become part of my life again," I said, unable to control the tears at this point, "then you will have to accept me for who I am, and that means knowing everything about me. Father I am gay and in love with this boy here. If you can't accept that then we have nothing further to discuss."

I watched him pick up his coffee cup, take a slow drink, trying to think through his next move, "I'm so sorry son," he said, "I don't fault you for turning into a homosexual. I quess if I had been around, then you would have had a male influence to help you grow into a man."

I laughed, "It wouldn't have made a difference," I said, "I was born this way, and regardless if you had been here through all my life, I would still be gay, regardless if I ever came out of the closet. Maybe I wouldn't have met Kyle, maybe I wouldn't have done a lot of things I have done in my life, but I'm not gonna harp on the what could have beens, but just try to enjoy the reality of my life."

I knew he was about to say something, when the ringing of the telephone cut through the air. My mother got up and answered it. He sat there silently waiting for her to hang up and tell us who it was. She hung up and turned towards Kyle and me, "Kyle that was your father, he wants you at the hospital. Let me get my keys and I'll drive you."

"I'm going too," I said

We all three walked out, leaving the strange man who was my father sitting in the kitchen all by himself.