The Tennis Player

Chapter 10

The more I worked on my idea, the more information I found, the more optimistic I felt. Then Mr. Skinner came through with an idea. Teenagers often come up with ludicrous, impractical ideas; his was very much of that variety, but he said it could work, and I guessed that was true. I was able to include it in my plan.

His idea worked best as a threat, but then, mine did, too. A threat would only work if it were dire enough to get the threatened person to do something they didn’t want to do. That would be difficult, so I kept working. The more I had to back up my threat, the better chances of it working.

I was missing the time I’d had alone with Clark. I was making up for it by doing research, lots and lots of research. Clark told me at lunch he was getting a lot done on our joint project. I didn’t tell him, but I was getting a lot done, too. We were both writing reports. It would be interesting to see whose was longer.

I had no doubt whose would have a greater impact.

I was well along with my work, even if it was slow going. It was hard to get some of my research supported. Newspapers and published media always wanted facts verified. I wanted that, too, and that was what took me the majority of my time. It was a good thing I wasn’t shy. Asking questions of strangers who didn’t want to talk to me wouldn’t have worked at all if I were shy and backed off at the first sign of resistance.

When my father asked me why I was always on my computer or on the phone, I told him what I was doing and why these days. He wasn’t about to spill the beans to anyone. And when I told him about fact verification and the problem that was giving me, how I’d stuck with it and argued my way into getting what I wanted, he told me I should be a lawyer. I said that was a good idea, but that was only to appease him. I now knew what I wanted to do, but he wouldn’t like it so I kept that to myself.

I was keeping a lot to myself these days.

I’d thought I’d have more time to work on what I was doing, but Clark told me something at lunch one day that changed all that. Something I wasn’t ready for. Something that meant ready-or-not, here-I’d-have-to-come. Very soon. Too soon.

“I’ve got some bad news for you,” Clark said, digging into the school’s version of beef stew. I think they made it with fish and chicken waste the school board could get free by taking on the disposal of it. Beef waste was too expensive. He took a bite, then pushed the plate away.

“What?”

“Grandmother got all upset when she couldn’t convince Mr. Skinner to let me work alone, or even reassign me to work with a girl. She went to the principal and then to someone on the school board. Even suggested there might be money involved, like money for the school’s general fund. She had no bites.”

He stopped and shook his head. “So she’s withdrawing me from school.”

“But that means a boarding school!” I couldn’t believe it. “Everything I read says they’re a hotbed of gay shenanigans. Sounds like fun, but I can’t believe she’d do that.”

“She isn’t. She’s going to keep me home and hire tutors. My dad will go along with it. I’ve been ‘socialized’ long enough now that he won’t have that argument any longer. And Grandmother is a force of nature when she gets really mad after being thwarted. This is my last week here.”

“NO! I need more time!”

As I hadn’t told him what I was working on, he had no idea what I was fussing about. He simply gave me a funny look and said, “It is what it is, Ronnie. Friday is my last day here, and so probably the last day I’ll ever see you.”

This was awful. I couldn’t stand even the thought of it. “I need more time!”

“How much more?”

Now that was a good question. I had all sorts of information. But I had to put it together. See what it looked like that way. Figure out the best way to present it.

Maybe I did have enough. Putting it together would be a time-consuming task. Well, there was the possibility of losing Clark on the one hand and a lot of work on the other. That wasn’t much of a choice.

I needed to be sure of what I was doing before jumping into the fire. Clark had to agree to something.

“You told me once that you didn’t want the future your grandmother has planned for you. Is that still true? Totally and unwaveringly, resolutely true?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Ronnie, I know one thing I want more than any other, and I’ll never have it with Grandmother running my life. That’s you. But too, I don’t want what my grandmother has planned for me, either. So, yes, it’s still true, and it always will be. I think I’ll be a good enough tennis player after college to get on the pro circuit. I’ll be out from under her by then. I don’t have the courage now to tell her that, but when the time comes, I will.”

“This is hard, Clark. Really hard. But, I can’t wait that long. Who knows how long before you’ll feel able to do that, but I will lose you after Friday if we wait for that. So, I have figured out how to get you free from her control, but you have to be willing to trust me that I can do this.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay? You’re going to let me possibly ruin your life and no questions, no dissent, just . . . okay?”

“It’ll ruin my life if I can’t be with you, and I don’t want to wait. So, I’ll trust you, and if you say soon, then soon.”

“Saturday,” I said. “It’ll have to be Saturday.”

“Saturday? That is soon. What happens Saturday?”

“Saturday, I confront your grandmother.”

I worked my ass off during the four days I had. Even then, I wasn’t ready till Saturday afternoon. I did so much so fast that I hadn’t even had a chance to think about facing Mrs. Tellison. If I had, I’d have been much more nervous going over to her house that day. I was nervous, of course, but not scared out of my wits as I should have been.

What I’d just seen from Clark had an effect, of course. I’d just seen him outsmart power. Mind over matter. Now I was trying to do the same thing. No doubt Mrs. Tellison was much more powerful than I was. Could I overcome that? I was going to try. Try my best. All I could do.

I’d never liked confrontations. Now I was volunteering for the largest, most important one of my life. The one where I had the most to lose. I was sure most people would think that I was being overly dramatic. What was so critical to a boy of 14? What could be?

Those people didn’t understand the love I felt for Clark.

I rang the doorbell and Clark answered it. “I need to speak to your grandmother,” I said, speaking very formally. I wasn’t sure if anyone could hear. “And I need you to come with me.”

He didn’t say a word, just beckoned me to follow and walked into the house. I thought this would go better in the living room or family room, but she was in her office, her own domain, her power base, and that’s where Clark took me.

I hadn’t often seen Clark with his grandmother, but on those very few occasions, he’d seemed smaller, less substantial, less alive. Now, in her presence, I saw the same transition. When he spoke, even his voice was more subdued. There was less of him there with me now, more of someone I didn’t know.

“Grandmother, this is Ronnie Murray. He is the partner who was originally assigned to work with me on our school project. He would like to speak to you.”

She didn’t look at me. She looked at and spoke to Clark. “I have no time to waste with a little boy. Show him out, and please don’t interrupt me again. You know better.”

From the look on Clark’s face, it was now my turn. As I knew it was going to be.

She’d turned back to the paper she was reading, probably expecting me to leave. I didn’t.

I stood before her desk and said, “Mrs. Tellison, I need to talk to you. It’s in your best interest to hear me out. Mine too, and Clark’s, but especially yours. If you decide not to listen, you’ll always remember that I did give you an opportunity which you rejected out of hand. If this is to show how much you outrank me, how much more important you are than I am, fine. But whatever the reasons, they’re ill-imagined. There will be repercussions, ones you won’t like, if you send me away unheard. This, right now, is your chance, your only chance to prevent those repercussions from occurring.

“Your choices are, give me a few moments of your time now or pay a steep price later.”

She gave me what undoubtedly was a stare that was well-practiced and often used, then slid it over toward Clark. “Why is he still here? Why haven’t you shown him out?” Her voice couldn’t have been sharper if she had razor blades in her throat.

I wasn’t going to be stopped, nor was I going to let her have her way with Clark, either. “You should listen to what I have to say. It’s for your own good. Your future depends on it. Yes, I’m a boy. Not so little, but a boy. I’m also a boy who has the power to sink you. Aren’t you smart enough to take a couple of minutes to listen, if for no other reason than to know what vulnerabilities you need to shore up, to defend? Are you letting pride go before the fall?”

She dropped the paper she’d been holding and glared at me, and the full force of the woman was there for me to see; it was very real.

“Who do you think you are, threatening me?”

“I’m Ronnie Murray. That’s who I am. I’ve spent time gathering information, doing research on you; I know who you are, too. I have written a report. It’s like the report Clark and I have been working on, but instead of Eisenhower, it’s about you. All you have to decide right now is whether to read it now, or let other people read it first.”

Later, Clark would tell me that I said that in a calm, rational voice. A voice that got softer every time hers got louder. I didn’t realize I was doing that! I did know I hadn’t felt intimidated by the force of her presence. I don’t know why not. Should have been. Wasn’t. Perhaps having Clark there with me made the difference. My personal resolve was involved, too.

“What research?” she growled.

“You’re not going to like it. It’s comprehensive. It shows who you are. What you’ve done. It isn’t complimentary. It is factual. But as of now, you’ll be the only one who has read it.

“Before showing it to you, though, I need to tell you what I want. The report I wrote is why you’ll give this to me. What I want from you is an agreement that Clark is now and forevermore free to live his life on his own terms. You will no longer have any control over him. He will live here as he has been, continue to go to school as he has been, and then he’ll go to college. That’ll probably be on a scholarship, but if not, you’ll pay for it. He’ll be free to choose the college and the degree he’ll pursue.”

I paused to take a breath. Also, throughout, I’d been standing in front of her desk. Now I sat down. Clark did, too, moving his chair next to mine. She opened her mouth to protest, but I said, “Wait. I’m far from done, and you don’t know what I have to say.” She was glaring at me, but I could see she was smart enough to listen. Perhaps my composure had something to do with that.

“This is the part that you’re not going to like. But you need to know. I’m gay, and so is Clark, and we’re in love with each other. Furthermore, Clark does not want the job you have in mind for him. He wants what I just stated, to be free of your control, to go to college, get a degree, and do whatever he wants in life without your oversight. Your domination. I’ve figured out how to make that happen. Whether you decide to fight us or not, it will still happen.”

She wasn’t looking at me now. Her focus was on Clark. “Is this nonsense true? It had better not be! You know what’ll happen if what he says is true!”

Her voice rose throughout that short speech into one loud enough that it would fill an auditorium.

This was the hard part: Clark. He had to stand up to her after a lifetime of caving. I was confident in what research I’d done and in myself, in my ability to talk to her without flinching. I was confident in Clark when he was with me alone. But facing her? The person who’d been brainwashing and browbeating him his entire life?

This was the moment when he had to choose. Defy her or crumble to her will. Defy her, and he could live his own life.

His reaction was silence. He didn’t answer but did drop his eyes from hers. Then, slowly but determinedly, he reached out and put his hand on mine that was resting on the arm of the chair where I was sitting. With his eyes on me, not her, he said, “Yes, it’s true. I love Ronnie and we’re together.”

“Nonsense!” she screeched. “You’re just a boy. You know nothing!” Then she turned back to me and abruptly stood up from her chair. “You! You get out of my house. Never come back. You do, I’ll have you arrested. Get out. Out. Out. And you’ll never see Clark again, that’s for goddamn sure!”

“Okay,” I said. I didn’t stand; I spoke from my chair. “As a gesture of good will, I’ll leave this with you.” I had a briefcase with me, one I’d borrowed from my father, and I took the report I’d written from it and laid it on her desk. “It’s the research I did. I don’t have to give you a copy. I could let you be blindsided when the information in it becomes public. There’s a saying about that, and what’ll happen then. You’ve heard it: the shit will hit the fan. It’ll splatter all over you, and there will be nothing you’ll be able to do to prevent it. The only chance you have to stop this is to sit down, read the report, and then agree to the terms I’ve drawn up.

“It’s in your court now. Something you’ve had lots of experience with. Your choice. I leave, and you get destroyed. Or I stay, you read the report, and we talk. What’ll it be?”

She was disinclined to pay any attention to what I was saying. She wanted to steamroll over me, which was how she was accustomed to dealing with problems. She didn’t do that, though. I think the reason she didn’t was what Clark told me later. I’d just spoken in a soft, controlled voice with no sign of intimidation or fear brought on by her standing up or shouting. I was calm and rational and she could see that. It had an effect.

She didn’t want to do what I suggested. She wanted me to leave right then. I stared at her, my eyes undoubtedly easy to read, showing my determination. She glared back, but after a moment of hesitation, she opened my report and began to read.

The report had been gathered from press clippings, school newspapers, college newspapers, and from verbal communication I’d had with people mentioned in the media reports. It was a complete history of Kelly Tellison.

She’s been a tennis phenom when young, much like her grandson was now. She never lost a set in high school. She’d matriculated at Stanford, which had a top-tier women’s tennis program, and after graduating with a business degree, she turned pro and joined the pro circuit.

That wasn’t what it is today. It was before Billy Jean King, Margaret Court, Chris Evert, Martina Navratilova or the great players who came after them. It didn’t provide the players with the big money available to today’s women pros. So when her father offered her a prominent position in his company with a commensurate salary, she accepted and left the tour.

The part of her history that I’d discovered had only been hinted at in the press she’d gotten. Times were different back then. But I’d followed up on the hints.

Kelly had been a very pretty girl, and then a pretty teen and pro tennis player. She’d also had affairs with girls in school, and then with fellow pros. She was a practicing lesbian then, and she still was. The coaches she’d provided for Clark had all slept with Kelly. Mrs. Tellison. Few people called her Kelly now. The ones who did had shared her bed.

The report made it clear. She’d had sex with those on the tour that had the same sexuality that she had. But to her, it was just sex. Several of the women she’d taken to bed had wanted more from her. They’d wanted love. Some wanted monogamy. Kelly only wanted sex and power. She got the sex from women without any emotional tie-ups and found the power she wanted when she left the tour and took her father’s offer.

Some of those women she’d jilted without remorse had talked to me. They felt vindicated by telling how she’d treated them.

She read the report. She paled as she neared the end. I saw her eyes stop moving and knew she’d finished. She hadn’t looked up.

“Should I go?” I asked.

“Who’s seen this?”

“You and I. That’s it. If I leave now, it’ll go to the press, specifically to the man who interviewed Clark. I’ve had other ideas as well. I could go to a shareholder meeting and speak there. I could contact members of the board who’d like to replace you and give them the ammunition they’d need to accomplish that. I do know who those people are.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“I talked to a lot of people. One was your son. He’s aware of what happens on the board, and who would like to see you replaced. Your hold over him isn’t as solid as you think. He’s built some support if you try to fire or demote him. He has more friends on the board than you do.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. While she was thinking, I gave another copy of the report to Clark. His eyes questioned me, and I nodded. He began reading.

She didn’t know what to say. Probably the first time in years for her to be dumbfounded.

I used her silence to speak. “I have signed statements to all the facts in that report. You left a lot of women angry by simply walking away from them. They obliged my request for statements. I knew I’d need them for the press. Mr. Skinner taught us about verifying facts.

“They’ll be interested in how you treated Clark. You lied to him all those years. He’s never been a ward. He’s always been your grandson by blood.”

She remained silent. She could visualize what would happen should this report end up on the boardroom table.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said. “I only want Clark to be free to be whoever he wants to be and to accomplish what he can accomplish. For that to happen, you have to allow it. If you don’t, copies of that report will go to the press, go to your board of directors, and will be mentioned the next time Clark has an interview after winning another tournament.

“Public interest in stories that include sex and human bondage of a young boy by a lesbian will generate enough press interest that there’s no need to talk to shareholders. They’ll already know, and probably will have already sold their shares while there was still a market for them. Or perhaps they’ll commit to a fight to remove you from the board. While this is going on, I’d guess your own shares would be dropping in value and be worth a lot less than they are now, too.

“But none of that needs to happen. It’s up to you now. I do need to know what you plan to do. Not later after you’ve taken steps to shield yourself. I need to know now.

“I want your promise, and I want your signature, that Clark is now free to make his own decisions, you will no longer hold him hostage to your desires, that at school he’s free to join the society of other students that he’s been denied, that he can associate with whomever he pleases, that you’ll support his college choice whatever it is, and that you’re doing this to cover up the fact that you were and are an active lesbian. Live up to that promise and no one will ever see that signed statement but me. Sign that statement and I’ll know I can trust you. Don’t sign it and live with the consequences.”

She looked like she was in shock. Not the force she’d been. More human now.

“What’s your decision?”

She hated this! It was apparent. But she had to realize that it was an easy decision to make. Her secret was out but only to Clark and me. If it went farther than us, her company and her position in the company, along with the value of all the stock she owned, would be jeopardized, perhaps—probably—forfeited.

“Who knows about this?” she asked, not sure she believed what I’d already said.

“You and Clark. Me, too. But that’s it. The women I spoke to don’t know why I was asking about you. And in any case, they won’t say a word as they all have reputations to protect, and they only know that you had trysts with them. They don’t know about each other. They don‘t even know what you’re doing now. You’re safe—if you sign a statement.”

She was an astute businesswoman. She didn’t dither. “Do you have the letter to sign? I’ll bet you do.”

“I do. It says what I told you needed to be agreed to, and it declares that you’re signing of your free will. There’s room for your signature, and one for a witness.”

“We don’t have a witness,” she said.

“Sure we do.” It was the first thing Clark had said for a long time, and the first independent speech that he’d uttered in her presence probably forever.

Clark slept at my house that night. Before he came, I told my mother I was gay. I was expecting drama, and I got some, but nothing I couldn’t handle. If I could handle Clark’s grandmother, my mother was a piece of cake. What helped, of course, was that she loved me. I certainly couldn’t say that of Mrs. Tellison.

Mom fussed and fumed some, but I told her we were a couple, I’d invited him for a sleepover, and now I was wondering if it should be dinner as well.

She decided that was best as it would give her a chance to meet him. She did, and as expected, she warmed to him almost immediately. He was easier to love than I was because I was her son, and she thought it was her duty to straighten me out. Well, not sexually, but in all other ways. I’d been straightening her out on that matter for some time now. This dinner and sleepover were just more of the same.

Dad liked him, too. He gave me a thumbs up when Clark was speaking to Mom.

I closed the door when we went to bed. I knew my mother would want it open, and that my dad would forestall her. I did know my parents.

In bed, afterwards—no point in describing the ‘before’, is there?—Clark was in an extremely happy mood. He asked me what I saw as our future. I loved that ‘our.’

“We finish high school,” I said. “You’re no longer isolated. Everyone will see you for who you are, and you’ll be inundated, mostly by girls. I think we should come out as a couple and blame it on Mr. Skinner. He’ll accept that; he’ll enjoy it.

“You’ll be the star of the tennis team, and you’ll get college offers with full-ride scholarships from major schools. You’ll insist I get accepted there, too, and they’ll agree. So we’ll go to school together, you’ll major in tennis and whatever else you’re interested in. I’ll get a business degree.

“Then you’ll turn pro, and as we spoke about jokingly earlier, I’ll be your manager. I’ve looked into this a little. I think you’ll be a top pro, and as your manager, I have to look at all the opportunities that’ll come with that. Making a living is our priority. You make it big, that’s easy and all I have to worry about is investments. But if you don’t, I have to look at how to do the best we can financially. I’ve found there are ways to do that just off your name. One way, just one as an example: many companies have retreats with their top employees, and they like to have people like you there to play tennis with their employees. Playing with a big-name pro gives them a real thrill and something to brag to people about. The companies pay good money for that.

“There are other possibilities, like endorsements and profiting otherwise on your reputation and name. Once you turn pro, if I’m anything near as good as I think I’ll be while following along on your coattails, we’ll live pretty well, no matter how you do in the circuit.”

“There’re two things wrong with that,” he said.

“What?”

“You’ll never be on my coattails. You freed me, and I’d never have been able to do that by myself. So we’re equal partners forever. And secondly, what do you mean, I might not be a star?”

And with that, he attacked me, and I defended myself the best I could—he was incredibly strong—and we fought like tigers who didn’t have claws and didn’t want to hurt each other, and we were more than successful. It was a very, very good sleepover.

Though my mom did give me an acid glance in the morning. I was too happy to be bothered by it. I think she saw that. Too, she saw how Clark and I were together. My dad was already smiling, and soon, she joined him. I’d known she would eventually. Love does conquer all.

THE END