Fearless by Chris O'Guinn Page B

still for you to have with you.” She reached into a bag at her feet and brought out a small box.
    “Mom, we can’t afford that,” I told her, eying the cell phone covetously. I hadn’t had one since the divorce.
    “It’s cheaper than the hospital fees for me when you worry me sick,” she told me. “It’s a prepaid phone, kiddo, so it’s just for emergencies.”
    “Mom….”
    “I wish I could get you one of the fancy ones, hon, but your father couldn’t send his check this month, so….”
    I took a moment to hate my father a little more. He knew how to push my mom around. He’d done it all through their marriage, always getting his way. Now he was still doing it, depriving her of money she needed just to spite her. I wanted her to take him to court, but she wouldn’t do it because of course we couldn’t afford a lawyer.
    “What would I do with a fancy phone, mom?” I told her, making myself smile. “I barely use the phone we do have. And I’d just lose it anyway. So this is perfect.”
    I couldn’t tell if she believed me. It wasn’t likely. She’s a smart woman. But she seemed to accept it, like all the other fibs I told her.
    “Could you sign something for me?” I asked.
    She looked puzzled. “Sure, hon, what is it?”
    I took the packet out of my backpack. “I sort of joined the swim team.”
    For the first time in way too long, I saw her eyes light up. “Really?”
    “Yeah, I was kind of drafted. Anyway, I just need you to sign the form. It’s the third page.”
    I regretted not having separated out the permission slip as I saw her stop on the list of equipment I had to get. I could tell what she was thinking as she looked it over: We can’t afford this. How can I tell him?
    “I still have that birthday money from Aunt Judy,” I told her. “Don’t worry about it.”
    The joy at my having joined a team evaporated, replaced now with the faintest glimmer of tears. “No, that’s your money, kiddo. I’ll talk to your father. We’ll figure something out.”
    Like you skipping lunches for a few days? I knew that was her go-to when pennies needed to be pinched, but I didn’t think she knew I knew.
    “Fuck him.”
    “Justin!”
    I was too angry to flinch from her shock. “I don’t want anything from him.”
    “Justin, he’s still your father.”
    “You divorced him, why can’t I?”
    She looked down at her folded hands. “I don’t want you to hate him.”
    One of us has to . “Mom, please, just let me take care of this. I want to.”
    “Justin….” She looked at me with something I guessed was pride. “Okay, hon. But I’ll pay you back when I can.” She shook her head when I started to object. “Nope, that’s the deal, kiddo.”
    “Okay,” I said with a smile.
    The number for the clinic that Lancaster had recommended was in the packet. I called them and asked how much the physical would cost. It wasn’t as bad as I feared, but it still made me hope the Speedos were priced on a per ounce basis. The clinic had an opening that afternoon, but I was going to have to rush to make it.
    “Mom! Can you give me a ride?” I asked as I dashed into the shower.
    “Of course, hon.”
    In minutes, I was wandering through the hospital grounds, looking for the clinic amid the wide and varied assortment of buildings that surrounded Mercy Medical. They all seemed to be dedicated to various “ologies,” none of which meant anything to me. I wouldn’t have been able to say, for instance, what the difference between radiology and hematology were. But since none of them said, “sports medicine-ology” I guessed they weren’t my goal.
    I was five minutes late when I finally got there, but I still had to wait twenty minutes to see the doctor. It was all kinds of embarrassing, being poked and prodded and examined by some lady who some kid probably called grandma. But that wasn’t as bad as when she asked me questions about my non-existent sex life.
    I was only too happy to escape the