Nerve Damage: Chapter 4

Echoes from the Past Part 2

Nate pulled away from his happy teammates and looked toward the sideline. Judy was there, applauding his efforts as always, but she was also alone. In soccer, Nate had finally found something he excelled at, scoring goals for fun and taking to the sport like a fish to water. As happy as it made him, he still wished his father would show up for one game. It wasn’t a need to feel some sort of paternal bond, as he knew that would never happen, but to show his old man that he wasn’t a total fuck up.

The scoreboard registered the goal Nate had just scored and also showed that there was now just ten minutes left in the game. Ten minutes left in the entire season and for Lester Givens to haul his ass out of the recliner and onto the sidelines to cheer on his son. The minutes may as well have been seconds, because Nate knew his father was never going to show.

As Nate jogged back to his own half, a large boy on the opposing team stepped into his path and nudged him with a meaty shoulder. It was an intentional move, but one that likely looked like an accident. “I’m going to get you before this game is over,” the kid said, glaring at Nate from under a jutting Neanderthal brow.

Pointing at the scoreboard, Nate said, “Better make it quick, shithead.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Nate felt the blood rush to his face in embarrassment. He would never think to talk to anyone like that, but playing soccer filled him with a level of confidence that left as soon as he stepped off the field. He turned his back on the kid and continued jogging back to his position, feeling those dark eyes burning a hole in his back.

The final minutes ticked away without incident, with Nate doing his best to avoid the larger boy, who seemed intent on stalking him around the field. He was so focused on keeping an eye on the brute that he almost didn’t see the ball coming his way. he spied it just in time, controlling it perfectly and heading to the corner to kill time and protect the lead. He was almost there when he heard the footsteps coming his way like the sound of a charging rhino.

Nate turned quickly, nimbly moving away from the approaching opponent, but the cleats, the ones that he and his mother had snuck past Lester, on his right foot caught in the turf. The larger boy charged in, studs up, and smashed into Nate’s trailing leg. The snap echoed around the field, followed by a gasp from the parents in attendance.

The boy leered down at Nate and said, “Told you I’d get you.”

The world began to swim, the playing field twisting and turning in shades of green. The pain came quickly, and when Nate look down at his leg, which was twisted at an impossible angle, he screamed when he saw a piece of bone poking out from a tear in his sock.

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE.”

His mother’s scream was the last thing he heard before the spinning stopped and the world turned dark.

***

Nate squinted as his mother wheeled him out of hospital, the bright sunlight hurting his eyes after weeks essentially locked up in a windowless hospital room. “I can walk, Mom,” he complained, feeling as though everyone was looking at him wondering why a kid needed to be pushed around in a wheelchair.

“You will do no such thing, young man,” Judy said. “You heard what the doctor said. Plenty of rest and relaxation.”

The idea of spending what little remained of the summer sitting at home depressed Nate, especially since it would mean being around Lester more than usual. His dad had not visited once in the three weeks that Nate had been confined to bed. Not after the injury, not after the surgery, and not during the rehab sessions after the fact. Lester Givens had always been something of an absent parent, but this was a new low, even for him.

They drove home in silence, Nate occasionally glancing at his mom, who looked more tired and stressed than ever. When he was home, Nate deflected some of the abuse she took at the hands of Lester, but a few weeks of taking a hammering alone appeared to be taking a toll.

“What do you want for your first dinner at home?” Judy asked wearily, a thin smile on her face.

“Hot dogs would be cool.”

“I think we can swing that.”

The silence returned as the car tuned onto their street, the Givens residence sticking out like a sore thumb. The overgrown front lawn, the chipped paint on the plastic siding, and the leaning mailbox were in stark contrast to the rest of the neighborhood. Much like he was with his family, Lester Givens seemed content in watching his home fall to rot. It was an easier option than showing any level of TLC.

Judy pulled into the driveway and rushed out of the car, sprinting around the help Nate out of his seat. His cheeks flushed as she took his arm while he fiddled with the cane the hospital had given him, but while he felt some level of shame, Nate was also thankful for his mother’s help. The walk from the car to the front door was little more than a handful of steps, but he wasn’t sure it was a journey he could make on his own.

When they stepped inside, Judy removed her arm, letting Nate walk on his own, understanding that not doing so would result in some form of verbal abuse from her husband. “Look who’s home,” she called out, trying to sound jolly but the tremor in her voice giving away her true feelings.

Lester barely pulled his eyes away from The Jerry Springer Show on TV. “Who gives a fuck? You’ve got twenty minutes to make my dinner. I’m fucking ravenous.”

Removing her jacket and placing it on a hook by the door, Judy scurried off the kitchen while Nate followed close behind, moving slowly with the aid of his cane.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Lester said, rolling his eyes. “Would you look at the state of this. I’d better not be paying any extra to look after the cripple.”

“Good to see you too, Dad,” Nate mumbled under his breath as he passed the recliner.

Lester shifted in his seat, moving his leg out in the path of his son, who tripped over it and wend down hard, the cane flying out of his hands. He screamed in pain as he made contact with the floor, feeling as though the rods and pins in his leg shifted under the weight of the collision.

“What happened?” Judy asked as she leaned down to help her son.

“He trip…”

“The boy has always been clumsy, Judy. I’m sure that big fucking cast isn’t helping with his balance.” Lester stared at his son, eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that right, boy?”

Helping Nate to his feet, Judy retrieved the cane and handed it to her son. “You go rest while I make dinner.” She watched him hobble down the hallway and disappear into his room, closing the door behind him.

“Maybe if you stopped babying him, he wouldn’t be such a fucking pussy.”

Fists clenched, Judy turned slowly and glared at her husband. She knew he’d tripped Nate, knew he had crossed a line she could not abide. She took a slow, steady breath, and said, “Hot dogs okay with you?”