“You don’t get it!” he roared, rising out of his chair, and our eyes locked.
He was furious. I’d never seen him this mad, ever.
He took a moment and with a visible effort, composed himself, then sat back down and looked at me.
“You are going to sit there and listen to me. That means you’re not going to interrupt; you’re not going to dissemble; and you’re not going crack some of your unbelievably stupid jokes. Instead, you are going to listen to me tell you some things I should have told you long ago. Get it?”
I wanted to be anywhere but there, but I nodded. This was my dad.
“As soon as he saw the videos, Fritz downloaded them and forwarded copies to Ms. Dixon, who reviewed them. She’s advised us to send all the recordings from the other feeds but reserve the one regarding drug use. If the sheriff demands it, we may have to go to court to fight him. Right now, he’s happy with what he has.
“Ms. Dixon has advised Sheriff Cochran that there is other video, but that it’s irrelevant to his investigation. He has requested to view the additional recording to make sure there isn’t anything on there he needs. But he’s agreed not to make a formal request unless they think it’s necessary.
“As of right now, the evidence on the videos Fritz sent is enough. The two men arrested will more than likely accept a deal on these charges, so the other recording that includes the conversation may never be needed. Sheriff Cochran told Ms. Dixon that the other charges they face are more serious. His state’s attorney wants to kick the whole mess to Chicago and let them deal with it.
“You may have to be re-interviewed to make sure it all gets on the record. Sheriff Cochran wants to see how this plays out before he decides if that’s warranted.”
Warming to his subject, Dad continued.
“There are two reasons Sheriff Cochran agreed to this besides the men’s issues up north. First, Ms. Dixon hinted that if the sheriff did agree to Fritz’s arrangement, it would affect how we acted. We wouldn’t start wondering out loud about his department’s lackadaisical response when they got a call about men with guns stalking a lone female. Nor would we be asking publicly about their failure to warn Tracy’s family that Bill had been released.
“Second, it turns out one of the investigators is the father of the pitcher you showed up Saturday. Apparently, he’s been bragging his son would wind up in the majors. He was heard to mutter that it couldn’t have been so clear-cut, and you should’ve been arrested too.”
“By the way, Fritz spoke with Ms. Dixon and asked if, hypothetically, that portion of the video turned out to be ‘unrecoverable,’ would that be a problem. She said we are at this time not required to provide or preserve any video recordings. If that portion were to turn out to be ‘unrecoverable,’ that’s just the way it is.”
Dad paused and looked over at me.
“Do you care to think about what might well have happened if all the videos had been leaked to the press, despite Sheriff Cochran’s assurances that it wouldn’t happen?” Dad asked.
“Well, the press would’ve had to also show the part where I said I didn’t know I was taking it,” I started. But I was immediately confronted by my father erupting out of his chair again.
“God damn it!” he shouted, his chest heaving. He pointed a shaking finger at me, and I sank back as he slowly sat back down again. I got very still, thinking heart attack.
“I realize the girls call you a ‘stupid boy,’ but up to this point, I hadn’t considered that you actually could be so stupid it might kill you. If that conversation had leaked, which it would have, the press would’ve only played what Paul said. Yes, it would have been out of context, but they’d never let the full truth get in the way of a juicy story. The focus would’ve shifted from Tracy being saved to your doing drugs.”
“Now, what else would follow if this got out in an uncontrolled manner? First and foremost, Chubby would have dropped you from the Bond movie like a hot potato. The press would have a field day lumping you together with Lindsay Lohan when she had her drug and alcohol problems. And with Robert Downey Jr. when he was untouchable because of his drug addiction.
“Yes, Chubby may be your friend. But if he chose to support you, it could easily lead to the movie tanking and him losing both his investors and his reputation. Or, he could drop you and keep all that. What choice do you think he’d be compelled to make? You’d likely be dumped from the Star Academy movies as well.
“Care to think what that would do to your income stream?” Dad asked.
I’d already spent some of my signing bonuses. They would sue me at the very least.
“Next, we get to football and baseball. Oklahoma might keep you; they might drop you. But even if they kept you, you would be on paper-thin ice with them. It would take only one more stunt like your visit to the topless bar for them to drop you for ‘violating team rules.’”
At my look, he nodded.
“Yes, I know about that particular stunt. Yet another case of terminal dumbness to go with your incredibly long list of the same. You have become a poster child for screwing up by the numbers.
“The point here is it’s not just about you anymore. You have companies whose reputations are affected by what you do. You have employees whose financial stability depends to at least a small extent on you,” Dad reminded me.
Dad gave a big sigh, looking defeated.
“And you have five children, five toddlers, who depend on you.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he glared at me again, and I sat back.
“I have to go check on your mom; she needs me right now. But before I do, I want to leave you with two additional thoughts, and I hope you stew over them.
“First, I’ve had a couple of conversations with Brook’s grandmother Grace. We talk more than you think. After all, we’re heavily invested in some of her businesses now.
“Grace is quite taken with you, but she also has expressed some reservations about your maturity. I know you had some long discussions with her, and I suspect she’s given you some quite excellent advice. But now, I want to know something. Have you actually followed any of the advice she’s given you? Or did you just nod your head, say ‘That’s great,’ and then completely ignore the wisdom she shared with you?” Dad asked, his eyes boring into me.
I just pulled a Dawson and clammed up. It didn’t faze my dad.
“If you continue on this way, I will guarantee you she will never let you near her family—especially her granddaughter—again, let alone take you into her confidence. Her support is far more valuable than you know. You seem to be trying to do everything in your power to lose it,” he said and paused to let that sink in.
“One last thought. I know you don’t want the responsibility, that you want to still be a kid in high school, if only for a few more weeks. Well, it’s about time for you to suck it up. You have that responsibility; you took it on as soon as you got those three girls pregnant. It’s about time you grew up, accepted it, and acted like a man instead of a punk, entitled child. At some point, you need to be a better man.”
He stood, and his voice softened as he patted me gently on the shoulder.
“I have to go take care of your mom now, Son. She needs me, and I won’t shirk my responsibility to her, just like I won’t shirk my responsibility to you, to try to bring you up right.”
He walked out the door as I sat there, mute, left alone to my own thoughts. My aches were no longer merely physical.
◊◊◊
As I walked to my apartment, I noticed the cloud cover from the storm had burned away, leaving the night air crisp and clear. I said a little prayer in the hope that this was a metaphor for what I was going through right now. The storm had passed, and the moon sifted through the leaves to give everything an unearthly glow. The rain had left a damp, clean scent in the air. Soon everything would come alive as the temperature warmed up.