Page 41 of The Battery
By the pool, he dropped his glove, popped off his cap, shallow dove into the deep end, and glided through the water to the shallow end. I pulled off my shorts, momentarily embarrassedthat I wore only boxer briefs before remembering our history together. I dropped into the deep end like a pencil, pushed off from the wall, and skirted the bottom of the pool before surfacing next to Leo by the stairs.
“He’s great,” I said as I used my hands to brush back my hair. “Had me cracking up there for a bit.”
Leo just nodded. He sank lower and kneeled so only his head remained above the water. I instantly knew I wouldn’t get any more out of him.
“You’re burning,” he said.
Wanna lube me up with sunscreen?Alas. “Should probably get in the shade soon. With a name like Leonidas Papadopoulos, I’m gonna assume you’ve got those awesome Mediterranean genes that means you just tan and don’t burn.”
“I guess, yeah,” he said. He raked his fingers through his hair and adjusted the wet strands. The image of him reminded me of the artsy commercials he had been in, oiled up and brooding. “You good on drinks?”
“Sure, if we eat soon.” I only drank lite beer in the offseason. The two shots of vodka hit me hard, but I managed to stay afloat. “I gotta drive later.”
“It’s only noon, Hill. We got plenty of time.” No smirk, but those greens of his sure as hell conveyed it.
A scream crashed through the moment. Leo was on his feet in a flash and sprinting out of the pool toward his uncle. Andy flailed in his spot beneath the umbrella. He cried out in a terrified scream and clawed at the air. Leo was by his side in seconds, cooing the man and shushing as he restrained Andy’s arms. After a moment, Andy relaxed into Leo’s embrace.
My eyes welled up. For a few heartbeats, Leo, this hulking mass of muscles and tattoos, gently held his frail and dying uncle as if he could save the man from the deep.
I looked away. It felt too invasive.
When I turned around, Andy ambled slowly with his walker, Leo stuck to his side. Again, I turned away. The shame was clear to see on Andy’s face and I allowed them privacy as Leo escorted him back inside.
I climbed out of the pool and sought one of the lounging chairs along the edge. I opened the umbrella and stretched out, running through my next steps. Leo would close off. That much was obvious. My head swam from the vodka and I wasn’t comfortable driving. I could wait an hour outside or I could call a cab.
The screen door slammed and Leo descended back into the yard. He carried the bottle of vodka with him and only a single stainless steel tumbler. For himself.
He poured a measure as he crashed into the chair beside me. I wasn’t going to pry. Not a word of question would leave my lips. I didn’t know what I witnessed, but it wasn’t my place to ask.
Leo spoke first after knocking back a shot. “He has nightmares,” Leo said in a quiet voice. “About pain.”
He stayed silent. Was it an invitation for me to make conversation?
It felt right. Leo’s hand was trembling. His entire body tight as a knot.
“Is he actually in pain?” I asked carefully.
Leo shook his head. “No. He’s just afraid of it. He’s not scared of death itself, just the pain of it. I’ve told him a hundred times. So has the nurse. He won’t feel any pain. But it still scares him.” He sipped at his vodka. “Sometimes he has nightmares where he feels pain. Self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess.”
I had… so many questions. I wanted to know more, if only so I could help Leo talk through it. Clearly his uncle’s fear of pain transferred to Leo as the fear of loss.
“It was lung cancer,” Leo said, as if reading my thoughts. He offered me a sip from his cup and I took it. Steeled myself againstthe flavor. “Five years ago. Beat it. Came back a year ago with a vengeance. They gave him a year to live. He’s been on hospice with me ever since.”
“Does he have any other family?”
I didn’t regret the question. It was one that struck at the heart of Leo. Something he kept guarded, though I still didn’t know why. If he was angry at me for the question, I would accept it.
But he was not and I was rewarded for my boldness. “Just me. He’s my only family, too.” After that, he drained his cup. He went to refill, and I stayed his hand. This wasn’t the answer.
“Just sit with me,” I said as quietly and pleadingly as I could. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t need to drink. I’m here. Let’s just sit.”
He didn’t reject me or deny my sentiments. He released his grip on the vodka and leaned back in his chair.
We sat in the silence of a July heatwave.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Leo
