Page 7 of Forever Focused

“Michael?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I love you, kiddo… just breathe. You’re scaring me. You’re my only son, and if this is the next step, we’ll take it together.” Michael broke down, clutching the phone and stammering uncontrollably for the first time in his life.

“I l-love y-you, t-too.”

* * *

Two days later, Michael walked into the house and couldn’t even look at his mother’s shocked face or his sister’s. Instead, he ran up the stairs of the house to hide, slamming his door shut and started crying again.

He was mortified, embarrassed, devastated, and ashamed. Yonder was a tiny town, and word was bound to get around, and then he heard the voices from below.

“What happened to my baby, Hunter?”

“Glory, lower your voice…”

“Don’t tell me to lower my voice! My son looks terrified…”

“Daddy, is Michael okay?”

“Madison, just leave him alone and don’t ask any questions…”

“Hunter, what happened?”

“Misconduct – and that is all this family is saying. Do you understand me? That young man upstairs has to be able to hold his head high, and they’ve already broken him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s stuttering Glory… he’s traumatized.”

“WHAT?!” Michael heard his mother’s horrified voice and flinched.

“Madison, go to your room while I talk to your mother. Do not antagonize your brother. No more name calling, no more fighting, no more of everything – you got me? Home is a place you can always go, and this is Michael’s home and always will be.”

“Daddy, I’m not going to make things worse. He’s my twin…”

“Go upstairs, sweetie…”

Michael heard the footsteps coming up the stairs and tensed, already aware of what was coming next. Sure enough, not two moments later, he heard his bedroom door open. Madison didn’t say a word. His twin sister just laid down beside him and wrapped an arm around his stomach, holding him as he wept bitterly.

* * *

Five days later, hiding in his room and only coming out to eat, he heard a voice downstairs, followed by his father shushing his mom. Heavy footsteps were on the stairs from multiple people, causing Michael to look over his shoulder where he was lying there still in his pajamas at four in the afternoon.

His bedroom door opened, and he skittered backward on his bed, horrified to see Poppy’s father standing there with a T-shirt in his hand and his Uncle Jackson right behind him. The two men walked inside and shut the door behind them, looking at him.

“Put that on,” Houdini said firmly and tossed a Flyboys T-shirt at him. “Put it on right now. Get some jeans and a baseball cap to cover your hair since you look like you haven’t showered in a week.”

“W-What’s g-going on?”

“Look, Michael,” his uncle began, sitting on the edge of the bed. “We’ve both been through trauma we never imagined – and this isn’t healthy.”

“G-Go away…”

“No,” Houdini said bluntly, staring at him. “You once told me that when you returned we’d have a different conversation and that you’d man up. Do it. Be a man and get up, get dressed, and let’s go.”

“Wh-Where?”

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