Flipping the Coin
CHAPTER 4
MUGGED
On the Saturday evening after Thanksgiving, Roshan and I decided to ride our bikes to the little strip mall. We did that quite often as the stores were only about a mile and half away. We both had front and rear lights on our bicycles and the street was not a busy one. First, we went into the Mini Mart to pick up a couple of things for my mother. After that we went into the Dollar Store to buy some cheap candy. Although there was a little daylight when we went in, it was dark when we came out.
We unlocked our bicycles and then Roshan looked at me for a moment before saying, “Follow me.” I wondered what he wanted but he wouldn’t tell me. We walked our bikes behind the store and leaned them on the back wall. Then Roshan said quietly, “Come here.” I could detect tension in his voice as I walked to him. He took me by the shoulders and gently pushed me so that my back was to the wall. I could barely see him, but I could detect his scent combining sweat and a little bit of boy musk.
Slowly and without saying anything, he leaned towards me and kissed me on the lips. I was startled but overjoyed because I had wanted to kiss him since I had first seen him. He dampened his lips a little with his tongue. Then I felt his tongue exploring my lips. A tingle of excitement traveled down my spine. I opened my mouth and his tongue met mine. I immediately popped a boner. I wanted to rub up against him, but I was afraid that would be rushing him. Our tongues explored each other and felt about in each other’s mouths. This was heaven!
Suddenly, a flashlight shined in my eyes. Roshan pulled back, but he wasn’t quick enough. An older boy’s voice said, “Well, it looks like we’ve caught a couple of fucking faggots! What do you think we should do with them?”
We were immediately surrounded as three other boys joined him. Two of them grabbed Roshan, turned him around and punched him in the stomach. I heard the air go out of him and saw him bend over. That was all I saw as the other two boys had grabbed me. One punched me in the face yelling, “Take that, queer!” while the other twisted my arms behind me. I yelped with pain. I was punched twice more in the face. My arms were pushed up behind me so far I was afraid my shoulders would dislocate. Then, as there came a volley of homophobic words, I was slammed to the ground and kicked and stomped. I screamed and yelled, and I could hear Roshan doing the same, but it didn’t help either of us.
Finally, the boys decided they’d had enough fun. They walked off with our bicycles, laughing and pounding each other’s backs.
When they were gone, I called quietly, “Roshan? Roshan?” He didn’t answer. Silence had settled around us and we were alone in our pain and misery. I didn’t know whether Roshan was even conscious—or alive.
It took me some time and a lot of pain to reach into my pocket for my cell phone, which fortunately the boys hadn’t thought to take. I speed-dialed my mother and when she answered I tried to tell her what had happened. It took a few tries because I was crying and my face hurt when I tried to talk. She finally understood and asked where I was. She said she would call the police and would come as quickly as she could.
A few moments later, I heard a siren and then I saw the reflection of a blue flashing light. A car pulled up, doors slammed, and two policemen came around the corner of the store with flashlights. One knelt beside me and asked what had happened, but I hurt too much to tell him. The other one knelt by Roshan and then said, “This one’s unconscious.”
As the policeman conferred quietly, another car pulled to the curb, and my mother and Carl came running around the corner. My mother knelt down and tried to hug me but then realized it would hurt me, so she just knelt there and we both cried. I think Carl went over to check on Roshan. Very soon after that, I heard another siren and this time saw a red flashing light as an ambulance drew up. Soon the EMTs came behind the stores wheeling a gurney.
One of the EMTs returned to the ambulance and brought back a board. Very carefully they put a collar on Roshan’s neck, strapped him onto the board, and lifted him onto the gurney before wheeling him out to the ambulance. As the ambulance was pulling away another pulled up and soon I was also strapped to a board, lifted onto a gurney, and loaded into the ambulance.
When my ambulance arrived at the Emergency Room, I was wheeled into a curtained cubicle and gently placed on the hospital gurney. Almost immediately, the doctor came in and decided that I needed x-rays. I was wheeled to the x-ray corridor but had to wait in the hall for a time. Soon, I heard another gurney being wheeled in and, thinking it might be Roshan, I called to him but got no answer.
The technicians took several x-rays and said that I might need an MRI of my head, but for the present I was wheeled back to the ER. Mom and Carl were permitted to come in for a few minutes, but it really hurt me too much to talk. I knew my lips were swollen and were broken open in a couple of places, and I thought my nose was probably broken also. My right arm was killing me, and it really hurt to breathe. Carl informed me that I was going to have a couple of beautiful shiners.
The doctor returned and asked Mom and Carl to go with him. They stood with him out in the ER talking for a few moments and then he came back in. He told me my right arm was broken in two places and I had some broken ribs on my right side. My legs were just bruised as were the ribs and my arm on my left side. He said that fortunately my neck was okay, but they were going to have to do an MRI of my head. They would have to wait a while for that as the machine was presently in use.
When the doctor left, a nurse came in and gave me a shot which she said would help with the pain although it wouldn’t knock me out. Then, while I was waiting for the MRI, another doctor came in, looked at the x-rays, and put a cast on my arm. He apologized for hurting me when he was doing that, but he said that they didn’t want to knock me out until they knew more about my head. My clothes had been cut away, and I was simply covered with a sheet, so he rolled me over a bit on my left side, which also hurt like hell, and taped my ribs.
Soon, I was wheeled out of the ER and down a long corridor for my MRI. Moving me onto the table for the test hurt a lot but by then I think the shot the nurse had given me had taken effect, so I didn’t cry out.
Back in the ER, I waited a long time before another doctor came in. He told me he was a neurologist. He said the MRI showed no fractures or bleeding but, if I had neurological problems like dizziness or blurred vision or a bad headache, I would have to return to the hospital right away and have another one. Before he left, he checked my vision, looked at the pupils in my eyes, and told me that I most likely had a concussion. He said that I was going to be admitted to the hospital, where they could watch me through the night and a neurologist would check on me in the morning.
Then he left me, and soon a couple of orderlies arrived, pushed my gurney out of the ER and down a hallway to some elevators. We rode an elevator up to another floor where we got off and I was wheeled into a private room. With a nurse’s help, the orderlies moved me from the gurney and onto my bed. A nurse asked me some questions including whether I was hungry. I suddenly realized that I was! She arranged to get me a little snack, saying that I shouldn’t eat a lot until they saw whether I could keep food down.
A little while later, after I finished my snack of crackers and orange juice, my mother and Carl came in. Of course, my mother asked how I was feeling, and between cracked lips I told her that I hurt a lot, but I thought I would be okay. I asked if she had any idea how Roshan was. She said she didn’t, but she knew his mother and father were with him.
By then I realized that I really needed to pee, so when Mother left, I pushed the call button for the nurse. She came and I told her my problem, so she got a bedpan and put me on it, to my everlasting embarrassment. But it did the trick, and in a few moments, I was done.
I don’t remember much of that night. I dozed from time to time. When the pain woke me up, I called the nurse and she gave me a medication. I do remember that every time I woke up, I was crying. In the morning, I had some cold cereal, orange juice, and a piece of toast for breakfast. Fortunately, the food stayed down.
In the late morning, the neurologist came. He asked the nurse to help me sit up. When I groaned sitting up, he smiled a little and said, “Sorry, but you’re going to have to get used to that for a while.” They swung my feet around and then helped me stand beside my bed. I just stood there for a few moments before they asked me to walk. I walked about five steps. Then he stopped me and asked if I felt dizzy or if my vision was blurry. I told him no. He asked if I had a headache. I told him I had a little one, but it wasn’t like last night.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to send you home with some medications. There are directions on the medications and your mother should help you take them exactly as prescribed. Sometimes, she’ll have to wake you up to do that but let her. An orderly came with a wheelchair and I sat in it until my mother came in with a bunch of discharge papers and prescriptions. The orderly wheeled me out as she followed us to an elevator. We went down to the lobby of the hospital. The orderly and I waited until my mother came with the car; he wheeled me out to the car and the two of them helped me to get in.
When we got home, my mother took a cane from the backseat of the car and helped me out. Then she helped me up the steps and into the house. As soon as I got into the house, Orion came bounding out of the kitchen. I barely had time to brace myself against the doorjamb before he leaped up with his forelegs on me. I yelled with pain, and Orion got back down, staring at me quizzically.
My mother had arranged a bed for me on the living room couch, which opened into a futon. Before I got into bed, I hobbled to the bathroom. Somehow, I managed to pull my pants down and use the toilet, but then I realized I needed help to get off the toilet and pull my pants up. I called my mother. When she came, I was thoroughly embarrassed, but she never batted an eye. She helped me up and helped me pull up my pants and get back to the futon.
When my father came home, he looked at me and growled, “Get off the couch.”
“Where do you want me to go?”
“Up to your room of course!”
Painfully, I got off the couch and went towards the stairs. My mother stayed in the background, afraid to say anything. My father followed me into the hall and grouched, “What the hell were you doin’ behind the Dollar Store anyhow?”
“Make a guess,” I snarled back.
He started up the stairs after me, but I guess he thought better of it. I swear, I would have kicked him back down if he’d gotten to me. “Probably either smoking or drinking!” he yelled. “If I catch you doin’ either of those, I’ll kick your ass into next week!”
I wondered what he would do if he ever found out what I was really doing. I was worried I would fall and I’m sure my mother was too, but I made it to the top of the stairs and into my room. I sat on my bed for a while and then lay down. Again, I was crying, but this time it wasn’t from pain. I was just feeling very, very sad. Orion got up on the bed beside me. He knew I was unhappy, so he leaned in gently and licked my face. I hugged him, but I kept crying until I fell asleep.
In the next few days, the homophobic emails continued on my old site. I’m not even sure why I looked at them, but I did, getting more and more depressed. Every day I wrote to Roshan, but it was five days before I heard back from him. He said he was okay, but with the damage to his lips and the resulting scar tissue, he would probably never be able to play the flute again. He, too, sounded depressed, but there was nothing I could say to make him feel better.