“Do you feel as ashamed of that as I do?”
Micah was glad to hear somebody else voice that. “I think so, yeah. But I think I’m more ashamed of the fact that I feel like it could just as easily be me, but I’m so glad it isn’t.”
“Yes,” Emma said. “That’s it, exactly. I hate thinking like that. But I guess anybody would think it, right?”
“I think they’d be lying if they said they didn’t.”
The door flew open, and they both jumped. A man who appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties stared at them. “Can I help you?” He looked back into the room, then closed the door behind himself so they wouldn’t be heard.
“Are you Will’s father?” Emma asked, before Micah could stop her. He had met Mr. Deanes; this was most definitely not him. He looked like he had a soul, for one thing.
The guy scowled at the comparison. “No. I’m Will’s uncle.”
“Oh good, I’m glad he’s got family here,” Micah said, offering his hand to shake.
Will’s uncle did so, and then turned to Emma to do the same. “The only one, I’m afraid. I’m Henry.”
“Will’s dad still hasn’t come?” Emma asked, even though it was obvious.
Henry shook his head.
“Does he know?”
“Of course he knows!” Henry winced apologetically at his own tone. “Sorry. He’s just an arsehole. I wish Will’s mother was still with us; maybe she could have made him come to his senses. My sister was much more progressive. I guess she had to be, having me as a brother. Pat probably blames me for Will being gay, thinking it’s genetics from our side of the family or some shit.” He was ranting like Simon in full mode; his brain probably wasn’t even alert enough to register it.
Micah was gradually putting the pieces together. Will’s gay uncle was his only support once he came out. And Will probably thought he was lucky even just to have him, seeing his father gave up so easily.
Emma introduced herself properly, and Micah realised they hadn’t even thought of doing so until now.
“And I’m Micah Johnson.”
“Oh, you’re Micah?” Henry looked surprised. “Wow, it’s really good of you to come. You and Will had all that trouble last year, didn’t you?”
Micah flushed. He hadn’t even thought it was a possibility Henry could have been told all of that. “It was a bunch of misunderstandings and miscommunications.”
Henry snorted. “Will’s told me the whole story. You’re being nice about it. He bullied you and knocked you out.”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Micah said, feeling the spotlight burning upon his skin.
“Believe me, I gave him plenty of shit at the time. Until he told me he was gay too.” Henry sighed. “But no wonder, with his dad being the way he was.”
Micah was eager to get past this part of the story. “Well, it’s all history now.”
Impatient, Emma broke in. “Can we see him, rather than experience The Micah Johnson Story all over again?”
It was the perfect tension breaker. It gave them the opportunity to laugh, and Henry took in a deep breath. “Fuck it feels good to do that. I don’t think I’ve done anything but cry all week. And Will? Let’s just say he’s in denial. In his mind he thinks the doctors are wrong and he’ll be playing for the Roos by the end of the year.”
“I can believe that,” Emma said, while Micah blanched and said, “The Roos? Really?”
Emma glared at him. “I don’t think that’s the relevant part of that sentence.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Anyway,” Henry said, a smile still playing on his lips. “I’ll go and have a coffee and some breakfast and give you guys some privacy.”
They thanked him, and were left alone at the door. Once again, it took on the visage of an unforgiving monolith.
“Let’s do this,” Emma said, sounding more confident than she looked.
“You first,” Micah said.
Emma rolled her eyes. “You’d be the guy in the horror film who sends the girl into the basement alone.”
“Survival is the goal. But you’re not alone. I’m right behind you.”
Micah couldn’t even look at the bed when they first entered the room. He was immediately assaulted by the sound of machines beeping as they kept watch over Will, monitoring his every rhythm and maintaining his oxygen. They looked steady, or at least how “steady” was depicted on TV shows. Finally Micah looked at the boy in the bed.
It barely even looked like Will. Micah had last seen him on the field at a GetOut training session, and there was such a difference in him now. The tall, lithe boy Will Deanes had been now looked shrunken, supported in a medical sling to keep the weight off his back. Bandages still covered half his face from injuries caused by the accident. In fact, there was very little of his body that wasn’t bandaged or trussed up in some way. They served to make him look smaller than he was. Whereas Micah had grown and filled out since last December, Will seemed lost within the paraphernalia engulfing him.
“I think he’s asleep,” Micah whispered, even though he really couldn’t be sure.
Although his eyes wouldn’t open, Will asked in a raspy voice, “Who’s there?”
Emma looked at Micah, biting her lip, before moving around the side of the bed so he could hear her more easily. “Will, it’s Emma.”
“Emma?”
“Yep. I’m here with Micah.”
“Micah?”
“I think there’s an echo in the room, Emma,” Micah said, and immediately winced at his inability to be serious even when the situation demanded it. It was rote behaviour, and it was something else he had to work on. Add it to the list.
Will released a deep breath, which Micah thought was meant to be a laugh considering what he said next. “Oh yeah, that’s definitely Micah Johnson.”
“Mate, how are you?” Micah asked.
“Great starter question, Micah, seriously,” Emma huffed. She glared at him from the opposite side of the bed. “Why don’t you ask to take him for a walk next?”