Authors: Etienne
“Goodnight, kiddo,” I said. “We’ll be right next door.”
“Goodnight, Dad,” he said.
Mike told him goodnight and got a “Goodnight, Daddy” in return.
We turned the light off, closed the door behind us, and went to our bedroom.
Saturday morning, July fourth, we had a very light breakfast downstairs at six thirty, and Charles and Philip appeared just as we finished. Charles said, “We’ll grab a quick bite, change, and be ready to go in a few minutes.”
We went to our room, pausing only to check on Robbie, who was sound asleep. We donned our running gear, fastened our official race numbers on our running shorts, made a final pit stop, and headed back downstairs. Steve and Roger were finishing their breakfast when we got to the dining room.
“Uncle Philip said they’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” Steve said.
Charles and Philip showed up clad in their running gear, with Lydia right behind them. “Robbie’s still asleep,” I said, “but he’ll probably wake up most anytime.”
“I’ll handle it,” she said. “Go knock yourselves out.”
We followed Steve out of the house and got into Philip’s BMW. In almost no time, Steve dropped us off a block from our assigned location, saying, “This is as close as I can get.”
“No problem, kiddo,” Philip said. “We’re good to go.”
We got out of the car, and Charles led us to our assigned places and explained that in the past, the starting point had been dictated by our numbers, which were dictated by the numbers we had been given when we’d registered for the race. “We’re about two blocks from the starting line,” Charles said. “Remember, we have to finish the race in a certain time in order to collect our T-shirts, but the good news is that the official countdown doesn’t start until everyone has crossed the starting line.”
“With more than 50,000 runners,” Philip said, “it takes more than a half hour for all of them to cross the starting line.”
We stood around talking and watching the huge crowd of humanity around us. Finally, I heard a shot, and Charles said, “That’s the starting gun. Now we wait until our group is allowed to move forward.”
I had to hand it to the race organizers, as they were experts in managing the mass of runners. Two or three people stood behind a tape, holding signs that said either “stop” or “walk,” and they maneuvered our group forward until the tape was dropped and we were allowed to run freely. When we finally crossed the starting line, I noticed that the clock had been running for twenty-four minutes.
The actual race wasn’t too bad compared to the River Run, which was one-third longer. The problem was the heat and humidity—on the Fourth of July in Atlanta, Georgia, it was fairly warm by eight o’clock in the morning and very humid.
There were people handing out bottles of water at various spots along the way. Of considerably more importance were the fire hydrants that had a series of spray nozzles attached to them. They were spraying a cloud of water across the runners, which provided a welcome, if somewhat brief, respite from the heat.
At one point, when the street started up a long hill, Charles said between breaths, “This section is called Cardiac Hill because there have been more than a couple of heart attacks here during the long history of the race.”
“Thanks for telling me that… just kidding.”
Charles and Philip, knowing that we were totally unfamiliar with the streets and landmarks, kept us abreast of our progress. Finally, Charles said, “This is the home stretch. We’ll be in Piedmont Park in no time.”
We crossed the finish line, collected our T-shirts, and headed to the MARTA station a few blocks away. At the station, Charles produced a set of keys and some subway tokens from a pouch attached to his shoe by the laces, and we went through the turnstiles. It was a short subway ride to the Lenox Square Station, and at the car, he retrieved a bunch of towels, handed them to us, and we dried ourselves as best we could before we got in the car. We were back at the house in less than thirty minutes and went straight to the pool to cool off. In the pool, I said, “That was quite an experience. I can’t wait for next year.”
“Me too,” Mike said.
“I forgot to look at the clock when we crossed the finish line,” I said. “How did we do?”
“We did it at an eight-minute pace,” Charles said, “which is more than respectable.”
We exited the pool and went to the showers. We had left clothes in the locker room the night before, so when we emerged from the pool house, we were ready for the day. Back at the house, we settled down in the sunroom for a hearty breakfast served by Mrs. Goodman with an assist from her husband, whom we had not previously met, and Robbie ran into the room, followed by Lydia.
“We saw you on TV,” he said.
“You did?” I said.
“There were news cameras stationed along the route,” Lydia said, “and Robbie spotted you at least twice during the course of the race.”
“Good for you, kiddo,” I said. “Come here and give me a hug.”
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surprise, he jumped into my arms, gave me a hug and a kiss, and proceeded to do the same thing with Mike. We relaxed for the rest of the morning, visiting with our new friends and enjoying ourselves. Steve and Roger had gone out to the suburbs to install another sprinkler system, taking Mr. Goodman with them. They were back in time for lunch, and we were joined by Mason and Angela Cartwright, Roger’s parents. They were an interesting couple, and, looking at Angela, it was obvious from whom Roger had gotten his blond good looks—at forty or thereabouts, she was stunning. After lunch, we all spent some time in the sunroom.
I could tell that the number of new people added to the mix was getting to be a bit much for Robbie, so I took him up to the playroom for a while. Mark and Steven were there, and the three of them spent some time together. Granted, two three-year-olds didn’t have that much in common with an almost-six-year-old, but they seemed to enjoy each other’s company. When Robbie began to yawn, I took him to his room and got him settled down with Andy.
“Are you having a good time, big guy?” I said.
“Yes, Sir,” he said. “I’ve had fun.”
“Good,” I said, and I kissed him on the forehead and told him to get some sleep.
I went downstairs and headed toward the sunroom just as Roger was walking his parents to the door. We exchanged goodbyes in the foyer, and I continued on to where the others were sitting. Charles asked us what our plans were for the rest of the weekend.
“We don’t really have a schedule,” Mike said. “Why?”
“I was thinking about Robbie,” Charles said. “Why don’t you take him out to Six Flags in the morning?”
“Won’t it be crowded on a holiday weekend?” I said.
“If you’re waiting in line at the entrance when they open,” he said, “you can usually sample the most popular rides without too much of a wait.”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “The later in the day it gets, the longer the lines are.”
“The longer what lines are?” Roger asked, walking into the room and the middle of the conversation.
“Where do we go that has long lines in the afternoon?” Steve said.
“Six Flags?”
“Bingo,” Steve said.
“Why?” Roger said. “Are we going?”
“George and Mike are thinking about taking Robbie in the morning,” Steve said.
“Can we go along?” Roger said. “We haven’t been out there this year.”
“Sure,” I said, “the more the merrier.”
“If you won’t think us poor hosts,” Charles said, “Philip and I will beg off. He’s had a steady stream of visiting siblings, nieces, and nephews through here this year, and I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve gone there.”
“Charles,” Mrs. Barnett said rather sharply, “that’s not polite.”
“What good are friends,” I said, “if they can’t be honest with each other?”
“Right,” Mike said. “Besides, we didn’t come here expecting to be relentlessly entertained twenty-four/seven.”
“Steve and I will show you how to get to the best stuff the quickest,” Roger said.
“In that case,” I said, “the trip will be our treat.”
“That’s nice,” Roger said, “but do you have any idea how much those tickets cost?”
“I doubt they’re any worse than Disney World,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“We’ve never been there,” Steve said.
“What?” Mike said. “Never been to Disney World? We’ll have to correct that one of these days soon.”
“Yeah,” I said, “it’s only an hour or so from us.”
“George,” Mike said. “It’s more like two and a half hours. You may have gotten there in an hour or so that time you drove a cruiser all the way to Orlando at ninety plus, but the rest of us have to follow the speed limits.”
“Jacksonville to Orlando at ninety plus?” Charles said. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”
I laughed and said, “It turned out to be a major story. We had a murder in Jacksonville and learned there was a possibility that the perpetrator was headed for Orlando. I sent a detective down there to follow up on that lead, and he and another detective knocked on a door and found two bodies. My boss had an almost-new Crown Vic delivered to my house, and I was in Orlando almost before the local cops arrived.”
“Was it fun, driving that far that fast?” Roger said.
“Maybe for the first five minutes after I was out of city traffic,” I said, “but mostly it was extremely tense. At those speeds, even sporting flashing lights in the left-hand lane with people getting out of your way, there are a lot of things that can go wrong. Plus, you really have very little control over your vehicle at those speeds. That was the first time I’d ever had to do such a thing, and I hope it will be the last.”
“You may have read about the case,” Mike said, “as it led to the uncovering of a number of murders and a pornography ring.”
“Now that you mention it,” Charles said, “we saw your press conference.”
Steve and Roger excused themselves, saying they had to go out in the ’burbs to call on some prospective customers who’d asked for estimates. Lydia asked Mike and me to come up to the study so we could work out a schedule for Robbie’s sessions with her, so I retrieved my laptop from our room and set it up on the desk in the study. She used Charles and Philip’s desktop machine to access her office computer, and we worked on setting dates for the next six months. It took a while, but we finally had a timetable that accommodated both her schedule and ours.
“I do have one question,” I said.
“Ask,” she said.
“Do you think Robbie is likely to have a problem with his classmates when they find out he has two dads and no mother?”
“That’s impossible to predict,” she said, “but it’s certainly much less likely to happen in an Episcopal school than in the public schools, given the well-known tolerance and inclusiveness of that denomination.”
“Should we give his teacher your card and tell her that she is free to talk to you if it becomes necessary?” Mike said.
“By all means,” she said.
“Okay,” I said, “that’s what we’ll do. We want to get that little guy up to speed as quickly and painlessly as we can.”
“Speaking of little guys,” Mike said, pointing at the entrance to the study.
“Hi,” I said to Robbie, who was standing there rubbing his eyes. “Have a nice nap?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Why don’t you come over here and give me a hug?” Lydia said. “I’ve got to go home in a few minutes.”
He walked over to where she sat and complied. “That’s nice,” she said. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”
“Are you coming to Jacksonville?”
“No,” she said, “George and Mike are going to fly you up here just to see me.”
“Okay.”
“Then I’ll leave it at that,” she said.
We shook hands and she went downstairs. We followed a few minutes later with Robbie in tow and found Charles and Philip were still sitting, talking quietly with Mrs. Barnett.
“Charles,” I said, “would either you or Philip be kind enough to give us a lift to the nearest mall? We need to buy this little guy some clothes, but we’ve been in such a whirlwind since we got back from the mountains that we really haven’t had time to shop for him.”
“We can do better than that,” Philip said. He pulled some keys from his pocket and handed them to me. “You can take my car.”
“Are you sure?” I said.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s just a piece of machinery.”
“Can you find Lenox Square?” Charles said.
“Where the race began?” I said.
“The same.”
“I think so,” I said, “once I find my way to Peachtree Street.”
“Let me show you the GPS system,” Philip said. “It won’t take a minute to program the directions.”
“Will you take a word of advice?” Mrs. Barnett said.
“From you?” I said. “Absolutely.”
“Remember that whatever clothes you buy,” she said, “will be outgrown long before they’re worn out, so don’t get carried away.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Mike has a tendency to do just that.”
“Who, me?” Mike said.
We followed Philip to the car, and he put the device through its paces. “That’s a neat toy,” I said.
“Charles loves toys,” Philip said, “and he insisted on buying this one for me. There are a couple of kiddie seats in the trunk.”
He retrieved a booster seat from the trunk and gave me the combination to the gate.
As we drove to the mall, I said, “How much do you think this car cost?”
“At least double what your truck cost,” Mike said.
We found the mall, parked in the covered parking section, took Robbie by the hand, and led him down the concourse to Macy’s. He was a little overwhelmed by the number of people, and clung tightly to our hands. They were having a huge sale of fall apparel in the boy’s section and, with the advice of a matronly saleslady, we found several pairs of long pants that we felt he would be unlikely to outgrow before spring. We made a few more purchases and wandered around the mall for a while.
“Have you noticed what I’ve noticed?” Mike said.
“You mean all the cruising that’s going on in this place?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not surprising,” I said. “Atlanta has been a Mecca for gays for many years.”