The Gus Diaries

Part 98

Remembering II
 

I know the name Hobbs isn’t one that my dads like to think about, but this wasn’t the same guy who hurt Pop. I didn’t think it would matter, but from the moment I opened my mouth and mentioned Mark Hobbs, Dad and Pop have been acting really weird.

Dad actually insisted on calling Jeff and warning him to stay away from the guy. I was in his office with him when he made the call.

“Jeff, this is Brian Kinney.”

...

“I’m glad you can recognize my voice.”

...

“Yes, I’m fine and I hope you are too, but I didn’t call to chitchat.”

Dad snorted. I had a feeling Jeff mentioned he wouldn’t expect Dad to chitchat.

“Don’t question what I’m about to ask of you, just do it -- don’t go near that guy Hobbs unless you’re with at least one other person... and never go out alone.”

I sat up straighter in my chair. Dad’s voice sounded almost panicked.

...

“No, I’m not joking. I’m fucking serious, and I want you to promise that you’ll do as I’m asking.”

...

“Good. You can talk to Gus later. Just make sure you keep your word.”

...

“You’ll know soon enough.”

I couldn’t help feeling incredibly uncomfortable. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Dad so stressed out about something in this way. I know he can be protective with all of us, but somehow this was different and it scared me.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 

Later that afternoon, after my homework and school newspaper responsibilities were completed, I headed for the media room to listen to some music while I talked online with Marci.

Just before I bolted in, I heard Pop.

“Brian, I don’t know what the fuck to think.”

“There’s nothing to think about. I told you what the P.I. found out.”

He hired a P.I. -- what the fuck for?

“Do you think he really could have such a big impact on the kid? After all, they didn’t move in with Chris and his wife until he was already in his early teens.”

“Yeah, well you heard what Gus said. Besides, they moved in because the kid’s father left them flat. I’d imagine dear Uncle Chris would have suddenly become quite the mentor.”

“But his values would have already been established. Gus’ were by the time he moved in with us.”

“Don’t forget all the shit with his mother. He’s changed since he moved in with us, and it’s only been a little over two years.”

“Yeah, I guess seeing his mother’s underlying bullshit, followed by Mel and Lindz’s divorce, didn’t help solidify all the lessons they taught.”

“No, it didn’t. He’s learned a shit load more since he’s been with us.”

“Does this mean you’re finally admitting what a great father you really are?”

“Don’t try to distract me. This is too fucking important to brush aside with a wait-and-see attitude.” I peeked into the room and saw my Dad scrub his hand over his face. “I did that once before, but I won’t do it again.”

Dad continued as he paced in front of the sofa where Pop was seated. “The Hobbs family have no goddamn values. I don’t think for one minute any of them would admit that gays have a right to live, let alone be tolerated as a fellow member of the human race.”

“Shit!” Pop brought his hands to his head and pressed on his temples.

Suddenly, Dad lowered his voice and sat next to Pop, rubbing his back. “Sunshine, are you okay? Does your head hurt?”

“Calm down, Brian. This bullshit is giving me a headache.” He curled into Dad’s touch. “It’s been fifteen fucking years, and it’s still haunting us. When is it going to end?”

Pop sounded like he was desperate for an answer to a rhetorical question. I felt my stomach turn, thinking about the pain he must be in knowing there were more Hobbs men out there who are homophobes.

I decided to make my presence known and walked into the room. “Dad, Pop, is Jeff safe?”

Both of them hesitated to respond -- that was enough of an answer to set me up to start panicking. Jeff wasn’t safe, and it wasn’t just me becoming an alarmist.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 

The next morning I heard Dad and Pop in the kitchen. I woke up earlier than usual, having had a shitty night’s sleep. They were talking to someone on the phone and had it on speaker.

Dad spoke first. “We need to meet. It’s important for both our families.”

“What the hell for? You want to finish off my other knee so I’ll need to replace that one too?”

“Look, you fucking asshole--”

Pop squeezed Dad’s arm. “Brian, stop.”

“Chris, we have to discuss a situation at CMU.”

“What are you talking about, Taylor. Mark is doing fine. Are you one of his professors or something? I thought you turned out to be some kind of famous artist.”

Pop’s eyes widened and he mouthed to Dad, “He knows?”

“No, although I know someone who is a professor there. This has nothing to do with academics. It has to do with a chance meeting he had with a young man in his dorm.”

“So your faggot boyfriend has a kid there or something? Is he a little shit like you were in high school or an insane murderer like you grew into?”

I saw Dad glare at Pop, wondering how that bat-wielding asshole could call my Pop a murderer. I remained silent, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

“Chris, you can call me anything you want. I don’t give a shit, but meet with Brian and me -- anywhere you want.”

“How do I know I can trust you? Last time you came near me, you tried to kill me.”

Dad snorted. “Who the fuck are you to call Justin a killer?” I wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but I’m glad Dad finally defended Pop.

“Brian, shhh. Please let me handle this.” Dad started pacing and brushing his hand through his hair.

I was startled when Chris Hobbs spoke again. “Fine. I’ll meet you two fags at the mall food court tomorrow at five. Then we can see what the problem is with my nephew. As far as I’m concerned, he’s just fine, especially since I’ve been raising him for the last few years.”

Holy shit! He’d been raising Mark Hobbs, and he still sounded like a jerk.

I remembered all the stories I’d read online when I moved in with Dad and Pop about the bashing. It was a fucked-up mess and Pop nearly died before he had a chance to really live.

I can’t imagine my life without him. Pop is everything to me... and that surgery last year. Another fucking aftereffect of the beating -- it was all too much.

If that Mark guy ever tried to hurt Jeff... damn, I had to call Jeff. There was no fucking way I wasn’t going to that meeting at the mall the next day, and if Jeff could be there too, it wouldn’t hurt.

I called him and filled him in on his new dorm mate’s complete identity. He agreed to take the afternoon off from work and he didn’t have a required practice. He’d run his laps, shower, and meet me at the mall a half hour earlier than the designated time.

After disconnecting, I called Michael quickly and told him I couldn’t work; then I contacted my coach, letting him know something came up. He was cool with me taking a day off, especially since he’d be focusing on the new members of the team.

It wasn’t as if I hadn’t done this before, but somehow I was obsessed with seeing the article the paper ran all those years ago when I was just under a year old. I went online and typed in Pop’s name. I grinned seeing all the art connections that showed up on my screen. Pop really was an artistic genius.

I typed in Christopher Hobbs. The first link was his family’s construction business. The second was about his arrest so I clicked on the link that read, News Article.

There it was... “Christopher Mark Hobbs Assaults Fellow Student, Justin Taylor”. Then I read the slightly smaller print. “In alleged hate crime, Hobbs assaulted Taylor, 18, with a baseball bat. It is not known whether Taylor will survive the head injury.”

I sat back in my chair, staring at the screen, imagining how Grandma Jen must have felt, and Grandma Debbie and Dad. He was there -- he saw it happen and then walloped Hobbs in the knee with the same bat. I’m impressed with Dad’s restraint -- I would have killed him.

And what about that bullshit about Pop growing into a killer. He’s the most fucking peaceful person I know. I’d have to find out about that as soon as I was sure Jeff would be safe.
 

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