Damaged Souls (Broken Man)

chapter Five


Greg saw Delaney’s name flash up on the screen and let her call go to voice mail for the second time. I can’t talk to her yet, he tried to gather his thoughts as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. I acted like such a jerk. I won’t let that happen again.

“Mitch Caldwell,” he muttered his name out loud and again felt the shot to his heart. “Why would she go out with him,” he questioned the room and remembered his long history with Mitch, one he had never shared with Delaney.

They met even before they started school. Their fathers had business together, and as is usually the case, business spilled over into their personal lives as their wives became friends and their sons started to play together. Pretty soon, the clans were inseparable, and Greg and Mitch promised to stay best friends forever as little boys will do.

They remained best friends all through elementary school. They did every thing together, and could almost complete each other’s sentences. They competed in basketball, tennis, golf, video games, even girls at that young age. Greg was also Mitch’s favorite target on the football field, catching both his passes and his insults with equal aplomb.

“You run like a girl, I have no idea why I ever throw it to you,” Greg’s mind flashed back to grade school as he remembered Mitch trying to bring him down with another of his insults.

“Probably because I am the only one who can catch that shitty half spiral you call a pass,” Greg always came right back at him. “If you could throw it half decent, we might be able to win a game.”

“You’re an a*shole,” Mitch came up with his best response, knowing he wasn’t going to win this war of words. “You ready for Saturday.”

“Of course I’m ready,” Greg responded and thought of their next game. “Just get me the ball, we’ll get it done.”

They made a great team as kids, and they both could really play football. Mitch had a cannon for an arm, and Greg possessed great speed and even better hands despite his small size. They loved the game and plotted their future together as they approached middle school.

“What do you think of Peyton Manning,” Greg’s mind again flashed back to another one of their conversations as he heard Mitch’s voice clear as a bell.

“I think he’s pretty good,” Greg remembered how he responded. “But, he wouldn’t be shit if he didn’t have Reggie Wayne to throw it to.”

“I think he would be great throwing to anyone,” Mitch shot back as Greg tried to figure out if he was insulting him or Reggie Wayne. “I’m going to be that good one day.”

“Sure you are,” Greg remembered laughing. “I just hope you can start for the middle school team.”

“Go screw yourself,” Mitch replied as Greg recalled the obscenity laced banter of their youth, two fifth graders trying to appear older, tougher, and better than they were.

But, Mitch was good, and both of them knew it. Even at that young age, Coaches from all around town in football crazy South Florida were coming to watch practices and the young phenom destined to be the next Dan Marino. Nearly six foot tall before the age of twelve with the arm and stats to back up his size, Mitch received the kind of adulation usually reserved for stars, and Greg caught the leftover attention and any ball thrown his way.

They were going somewhere, and as the school year approached, Mitch and Greg looked forward to football camp, the only two sixth graders invited to try out for the middle school varsity. Their future looked bright, but on a hot summer day, everything changed, at least for Greg.

* * *

Greg gave up trying to sleep, abandoning his bed and walking to the kitchen thinking of his dad. Everything would be different now, he thought to himself as he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. I don’t even think I would be the same person, Greg understood the consequences of his father’s death as he sat down at the table and revisited the past.

Life couldn’t have been any better than when he was growing up. His mother and father were happy and they lived comfortably if not luxuriously as the real estate market boomed and his father’s law practice reaped the rewards. They spent their time going to parties, swimming and golfing at the country club, and living the care free life of wealth and success. Yes, they were the perfect picture of family happiness, the charismatic attorney armed with beautiful wife and athletic son, destined for greatness in the courtroom and on the gridiron.

His father’s biggest client was J. Mitchell Caldwell, third generation owner of Caldwell Development, one of the largest developers of luxury real estate in South Florida and Greg’s best friend’s father. They did everything with the Caldwell’s, Father/Son golf tournaments, deep sea fishing in the keys, even film study for football. It seemed Greg’s family had earned their ticket and was destined for the upper echelons of South Florida society.

It all changed on that hot summer day in August. Greg remembered coming home from football practice and being surprised to find an empty house. Concerned but not too worried, he called his Mom to find out what was going on.

“Greg, is that you, honey,” his mother answered and Greg knew immediately something was wrong.

“Mom, what’s wrong.”

“Your father has been taken to the hospital. I’m on my way there now. I will call you when I find out anything more.”

“Mom, what happened,” Greg immediately had panicked.

“I don’t know yet honey, but I promise to call you as soon as I find out. Greg, I have to go, but I’ll talk to you soon. I love you okay, and try not to worry, he’s going to be fine.”

“Okay, Mom,” Greg remembered the feeling of shock. “I love you too.”

Greg took a sip of beer as he returned to the present and cooly remembered his father’s premature death. The funeral, his mother’s breakdown, their abandonment by their so called friends once the body was buried. The feeling of emotional detachment he had never shaken.

He had never been allowed to react or show weakness, his mother took care of that for both of them. No, Jack immediately became the man of the house, forgetting about trivial pursuits like football and golf and instead focusing on making sure his mother survived. Fortunately, the life insurance paid off their mortgage and living expenses, at least for a couple years, because his mom was in no shape to help.

No, his mom absolutely fell apart. Greg remembered the many dark days and darker nights of his mother alternating drinking with crying, no real friends to help her through the tragedy. Where had they all disappeared to, Greg wondered, once the status and money were gone.

So, it was left to him, and he did the best he could, hoping to find help as he didn’t really know what to do. But, he made his way through it, and on a cloudy December day as Christmas approached, Greg thought he finally found the help he had been seeking.

Greg left school early that day, having written a fake note from his mother excusing him from the last two periods. As he arrived home, he saw a Mercedes in the driveway and was hopeful that help had finally arrived. He recognized that car, it belonged to Mitch’s father.

He called out to his mom as he opened the door and was surprised not to see her. He checked the screen room, still no Mom. Maybe they went out, Greg remembered being pleased with the thought that his mother had finally left the house.

Then, he heard noises coming from the bedroom, Greg immediately returned to the present and cringed as he took a gulp of beer and remembered that moment like it was yesterday. No, he didn’t want to believe what he was seeing as he again opened that door.

His mother even drunker than usual, naked in bed with Mr. Caldwell.

* * *

Maybe it was unfair, but that day forever changed the way he looked at Mitch, although in reality, their relationship had already changed.

Mitch didn’t understand Greg not playing football, not bouncing back like a warrior, not being the teammate he always had been. And like all the other kids, he didn’t know how to deal with Greg’s father’s death. So, Mitch had essentially just ignored him, not knowing what to say.

And, that probably would have been fine with Greg. He had basically withdrawn anyway, and he didn’t need Mitch or anyone else for that matter. Anyone else except Delaney.

Yes, he needed her, Greg realized as he stood up and retrieved another beer. She had been the only one who had been there for him, the only one who cared. And now, he had treated her so badly he wouldn’t blame her if she never talked to him again. That can’t happen, Greg realized as he pulled out his phone and thought about what to say.

Maybe Mitch isn’t so bad, Greg forgave his arrogance and his seeming to remember all of his press clippings from the last several years. Naturally, I’m biased against him after all I have seen. Maybe the sins of the father don’t carry forward to the son, Greg gave Mitch the benefit of doubt as he typed out a text.

Delaney, sorry about what I said earlier and for not answering my phone. I hope u forgive me and I want u to have a nice time at the prom. Talk to u soon.