King had disappeared at some point after giving a brief statement, which I grateful for both because I didn’t really want him mixed up with the police and because he would want to comfort me, I would want to accept that comfort and it was not the time or place for that to go down.
The police interviewed Carson but there were no legal consequences to his actions. This enraged me. How could my brother have been sent to jail for protecting me, and Carson didn’t even get a ticket when he’d nearly killed an innocent?
I was so angry that when Carson had the gall to walk up to the Bonanno’s to ask for an update on Benny, I took him aside myself.
We walked down the yellow-lit halls, our shoes clacking on the chipped linoleum floors. I wanted to get control over my anger before I opened my mouth but only mildly succeeded. We stopped at a vending machine and stared at it as if we would get something, as if it held the profound answers to all life’s important questions and we only had to press the right combinations of buttons to own them for ourselves.
“I didn’t know you were gay,” I started and somehow my voice was smooth, pretty casing over the hollow words. “I wish you’d felt comfortable talking to someone about it.”
“Dad’s a homophobe,” he muttered.
“That’s hard. Not a reason to treat the boy you like the way you have been, sneaking around with him like you’re ashamed of him, and it’s certainly not an excuse to give him drugs. Honestly, I can’t even imagine what you were thinking.”
Carson’s jaw ticked, his eyes laminated with tears. “I take it when I have sex with girls, makes it, uh, easier for me. I figured if I did it with Benny who I’m actually into, it would be amazing. Plus, I told him about doing it with girls and he got really jealous, wanted to give me the same thing even though I said I didn’t need it.”
“Shouldn’t have made him feel that way in the first place, Carson,” I said softly because he’d started to cry, silent tears of shame. “Shouldn’t have given into him either.”
“Yeah,” he croaked. “I know.”
“I think this is a wakeup call, buddy. You need to step up and be there for Benny while he gets better and you need to be open with everyone about who you got those drugs from.”
“I already told the police that it wasn’t one of The Fallen dealers,” he said quickly, his darting to me for the first time. “I know you’re dating Zeus Garro.”
I put my hand on his shoulder because I didn’t want him to be afraid of me because of that. “You’re not in trouble with them, Carson. It’s Benny you need to focus on. If you still can’t do right by him than you need to be man enough to tell him, okay?”
“I’ll do right by him,” he mumbled, looking to the floor for guidance.
“Your parents coming?” I asked because I knew his parents often worked and stayed down in Vancouver.
“Yeah,” he tipped his head with his eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking out from under them. “He’s gonna kill me.”
I didn’t want think of the kind of father who would make his son feel that way but it made it easier to empathize with Carson and I knew that he needed someone in his corner to prop him up while he got his feet beneath him again so he could move forward on the right path.
“You call me if you need me. I’ll come pick you,” I offered. “I’ll get you a hotel room or something, okay?”
He looked at me then, turned right into my face and stared right into my eyes. I let him search them with his frantic spotlight stare until he found what he needed to find and then, because I knew it was coming and even though I hated him for what he’d done to Benny, he was just a kid and he needed the comfort, I opened my arms to accept his hug when he drooped forward onto my shoulder and burst into tears.
His mother came into the hospital to pick him up and I spoke quietly to her about the events of the evening. She looked sick to her stomach about Carson’s fears because she knew her husband would freak out. I pretended not to notice the bruising she wore around both wrists like shackles and she promised me that she would take care of her son, even if it meant leaving her husband. From the frantic determination hardening her face, I knew she meant it.
After, I went back to sit with the two elderly Italian immigrants again and took up Anna Lucia’s hand.
Benny woke up at three in the morning and his grandparents let me see him. His throat was too sore to speak but I sat on the edge of his bed, stroking back his dark floppy hair and reading to him from the copy of Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance that I’d stuffed in my bag that morning. He fell asleep again shortly and, soon after, I followed, my head cocked uncomfortably against the orange plastic chair.