Long chapter here. Hope you like it. Let me know with a review.
If you've read the previous chapters this is small potatoes, but there's a little sexual harassment in this one.
Y Me?
Richie enjoyed the first few minutes of the motorcycle ride in quiet excitement. Not being able to see made it a little scarier in some ways, but less so in others. The excitement finally settled in the pit of his stomach and he relaxed a little. He rested his head on Fonzie's shoulder and readjusted his hold. It didn't seem like long after that before Fonzie cut the engine and they coasted to a stop.
Fonzie steadied Richie as he got off the bike; then he put the kickstand down.
"Where are we?" Richie asked. "Are the guys here yet?"
"I don't see them yet; let's go inside and wait." Fonzie offered Richie his arm.
Go inside? Richie wondered. I thought the whole point was to get fresh air. He held on to Fonzie's elbow and followed him up a sidewalk; then they paused and went through a door. Sounds and smells started giving Richie clues. He didn't like the way they made him feel. All at once, he realized where they were. "You took me to the Y?"
"Sure."
"But... why?"
"Why the Y? Well, see, I have this principle. If I have a close shave or an accident on my bike, I make it a point to ride over that spot again—you know, make sure I don't start worrying about that spot and avoiding it."
"Not a bad idea... but it's your principle, not mine. Let's go somewhere else."
"I know you're nervous, but I'm gonna be right here with you the whole time."
"I'm not nervous," Richie protested. "I just... don't feel like being here."
"I won't let you disappoint the guys. Potsie even said he'd stay in the shallow end with you the whole time. What a friend, huh?" (Again, they did not know at that point that Potsie could not swim.)
"What? I'm not going in the water. The doctor said absolutely no sports," Richie said firmly.
"You're not going to be racing anyone or playin' water polo," Fonzie said, laughing at his own suggestion. "You're just gonna walk nice and slow to the pool, hang around the shallow end a while, get out, dry off, go home for dinner. It'll be relaxing."
Relaxing? Richie thought anxiously. Sure, like mussed hair relaxes him.
He could tell when they got into the locker room—there was the drone of male voices and the constant patter of showers in the background.
"Fonzie, I really don't want to do this," Richie said, knowing how pitiful he sounded, but deciding it was worth it.
"You think I wanna do this?" Fonzie countered. "I've never gone swimming someplace that didn't have chicks. Never. I'm doing this for you, and you gotta do it for yourself."
"I can't."
"You can't? Why not?"
"I... I didn't bring a towel."
"Ralph and Potsie are bringing the towels."
"Oh." Richie tried to look relieved. "Well, I guess that's fine, then." He let go of Fonzie's elbow and grabbed his arm higher up. "Don't make me do it."
Fonzie felt like a leather-covered statue. "Cunningham..."
Richie let go of his arm. "Sorry, Fonz. I just..."
"I know you're scared. We're here so you can face your fear and move on."
"I know..."
"Oh, hey, the guys are here."
Richie heard Potsie's voice.
"Hey Fonzie, hey Richie. We brought the extra towels for you guys."
"See," said Fonzie, "I told you. Let's hit the showers."
"I don't know if I can shower in a strange place when I can't see," Richie tried again.
"Don't worry about it. I'll walk you over to the shower, I'll take your clothes and put them in a safe place, and I'll walk you out to the pool. No problem."
"That's right, Rich," said Ralph. "We'll all help."
Seeing there was no way out, Richie let Fonzie lead him to the showers. He handed his clothes out to Fonzie and turned on the water.
A few minutes later, Fonzie called, "You almost done in there, Red? You're gonna get all wrinkled before we get to the pool."
Reluctantly, Richie turned off the water. "Got my towel?"
He felt the towel being pressed into his hand. "There you go."
"Thanks." Richie wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower onto the cold, damp floor. Fonzie's arm was there to steady him.
"All right, everyone ready? Let's go." Fonzie led Richie forward slowly, warning him of wet spots on the floor and opening the door for him. "Almost there. We're coming up on the first step."
Richie held onto Fonzie's arm with both hands. He'd never done that before without a leather jacket between them. Fonzie's arm felt smooth and solid.
"It's okay, kid. Just relax."
It was also the first time Fonzie hadn't yelled at him for suddenly clinging.
"Here you go. Step down on the step."
Richie felt in front of him for the first step and gingerly set his foot down in two inches of water.
"That's great. First step's the toughest. Next one will be easier."
"Atta boy, Rich," Ralph said encouragingly.
Richie felt a little embarrassed at all the attention he was getting. He wondered how many strangers were in the pool, and what they thought of the commotion. He took another step and the water was at his ankles. Then he heard the lifeguard blow his whistle.
"Something wrong?" Fonzie asked.
The lifeguard's voice grew louder as he approached. "You guys can't take your towels in the pool."
"We know that. The towels aren't going to touch the water. Malph. Weber."
Richie felt someone's hand on his waist.
"Take another step."
Richie did; the water was at his knees; any further and the towel would get wet.
"Okay, Red. We're gonna take two steps at once. Ready?"
"No."
"Here we go."
Richie felt himself led forward, and at the same time, his towel was yanked away. Then they were on the floor of the shallow end, water up to their waists.
"Neat trick," the lifeguard said dryly.
"Hey, I can't let just anyone see what was under that towel," Fonzie told him. "There are some things a girl should never learn secondhand."
The lifeguard was apparently too flustered to think of a reply for that.
"Hang on a minute. Are you the guy who was on duty when my friend here cracked his head on the edge of the pool?"
"No, that was Gabe."
"Gabe. Thanks."
"Don't do anything, Fonz," Richie warned. "It was my own fault."
"What makes you think I'd do anything?"
Two splashes nearby announced the presence of Ralph and Potsie in the water.
"I'll stand on the edge of the deep end," said Ralph. "I'll warn you if you get close to it."
"Thanks," said Potsie. Then he added, "Isn't that nice of him, Richie?"
"Sure. Real nice," Richie answered glumly.
"Hey, let's play a game."
"We could play Marco Polo," said Ralph. "Whoever's it can't see anyway."
"Richie don't wanna be it all the time," said Fonzie. "Besides, swimming around trying to find us, he could run into a wall. We don't want that."
"I've got an idea," said Potsie.
"Or we could just swim a little, tread water a little..."
"I said I have an idea."
"No one cares, Weber."
"No, this is a good one."
"Give him a chance, Fonzie," said Richie.
The others fell silent.
"Well, I thought we could get one of those inflated balls and pass it around."
"Richie can't see to catch," Fonzie pointed out.
"He doesn't need to see if he knows it's coming. We signal who we're tossing it to. See, each of us will have a sound. When you pass the ball, you make the sound of the person you're passing it to. When you catch it, you make your own sound and then the sound of the next person, see?"
"Hey, that might actually work," said Ralph. "Richie could hear where the ball is coming from... he'd have to remember where everyone is to pass it to other people, but you could do it, couldn't you?"
"I could try it, I guess," Richie said.
"Great. I'll grab a ball."
"Everyone pick a sound," said Potsie. "Mine will be Laaa..." he sang.
"Weber," Fonzie said, "I am not singing. The Fonz don't sing."
"La," Potsie said meekly.
"Why don't we just use our names?" asked Richie.
"Well, we could, but this'll make it more challenging."
"My sound will be ding!" Ralph declared, coming back into the pool.
"Very apt," said Fonzie. "What's your sound, Rich?"
"Uh... bang."
"You're 'bang' and I'm 'whoa.'"
"Okay, I've got the ball," Ralph announced. "Ding! La."
Richie heard Potsie catch the ball. "La. Bang."
Richie put out his hands. The ball bounced off his fingertips and into the water. He felt around for it and picked it up. "Bang. Whoa." He tossed the ball in the direction Fonzie's voice had last come from.
"Whoa. La."
As the game progressed, Richie started to get the hang of catching blind and throwing toward the sound of his friends' voices. The other swimmers started to gather around, watching. After a while, they started asking to join the game.
"This is really catching on," Fonzie observed with satisfaction. "Weber, you had an original idea for once."
"Thanks, Fonz," Potsie answered, not in the least offended.
"What you think, Red? You having fun?"
"Yeah... this is pretty fun," Richie admitted.
"Okay, we've got six; think we can add another sound to the circle?"
The boys around them started yammering in competition, calling things like "I've got one!" and "Can I play?"
Suddenly, Richie felt someone's hand slip over his rump and down his thigh. He gasped and turned around in the water, almost losing his balance.
"Whoa, careful," Fonzie's voice said. "You okay?"
"Uh..."
"What's the matter?"
Richie hesitated. "I... someone touched me."
"They're packed around like sardines—I'm not surprised. It's like that time in the Bible when Jesus was like, 'someone touched me' and his disciples were all, 'dude, there's a million people around...'"
"Fonzie," said Potsie, "let's let Joe play. He wants his sound to be a belch."
"Nooooo," Fonzie dragged the word out. "Let's try to keep some level of maturity, right?" He turned back to Richie. "Hey, you're really bothered by this, huh?"
Richie opened his mouth to answer, but he couldn't think of anything to say.
"All right, conference time. Potsie, Rich and I are gonna sit this one out; you can pick someone to join, but no belches, understand?" Fonzie led Richie to the other side of the shallow end, away from everyone else. "Okay, we got a little space here. What happened?"
Richie's mind raced over what had happened, trying to determine whether it could have been an accident. No... no way. But why would someone do that?! "I... I don't know why... but someone..." Richie could feel a blush coming on.
"Easy, kid. Your face matches your hair. That bad?"
"Pretty bad, Fonz."
"Like someone stole second base on you."
"Kind of... yeah."
Fonzie huffed out a breath and put his arm around Richie's shoulders. "I hate it when this kind of thing happens. It ruins my whole day."
"You've dealt with this kind of thing before?"
"A couple times."
"What happened?"
"Let's just say they didn't play ball again for a long, long time..." Fonzie started to move back toward the group.
"Wait a minute, Fonz. I don't want the other guys to know about this."
"They won't know any details. I'll be discreet. Trust me?"
"Yeah..."
"All right. Come on."
They rejoined the rowdy group of boys and the noise died away.
"Listen up," Fonzie said authoritatively. "I take no pleasure in announcing this, but someone in our group has played a dirty trick on my friend here—a guy who can't even see. Whoever you are, you should not only be ashamed of your childish act, but you should be scared. Because I'm gonna find out who did it. And when I find out who it was, I'm gonna find him. And when I find him, I'm gonna make him very, very sorry."
A hush fell over the pool. No one so much as coughed.
"Okay, start up the game again, Malph."
"Ding!" Ralph exclaimed.
The game went on, but Fonzie and Richie didn't join in again.
"When you find him, you're not gonna hurt him, are you?" Richie asked.
"Nah. But he can think so. Come on, let's go hang around in that corner some more."
Richie was glad Fonzie hadn't tried to get him back into the game. He'd lost his enthusiasm for it.
"You know," Fonzie said, as they glided across the pool, "You were doing really well there, going by your hearing and your sense of direction..."
"So, this trick," said a voice from behind them. "What kind of trick was it?"
Fonzie and Richie turned to face the newcomer.
"Eh, what kind isn't important," Fonzie answered. "Whoever did it—they know what they did wrong."
"Any ideas about who it was?"
"Sure. I got a sixth sense about these things."
"What are you going to do to him when you find him?"
"I have a few ideas about that, too. It'll be hard to make up my mind."
Richie wanted to ask some questions too, but he waited, following Fonzie's lead.
"Who's your prime suspect?" the other guy asked.
"What's your name?" asked Fonzie.
There was a pause. Then the other voice said, "You know, maybe this guy didn't mean any harm... you shouldn't be too hard on him."
Fonzie made a sound of frustration. "Cunningham, my fingers don't snap when they're wet." Then he said to the other boy, "Your name."
"Adam Milton," the voice said quietly.
"Adam. Do you know my friend Richie?"
"Sort of... he's in some of my classes at Jefferson."
"You like him?"
"Sure. He's a nice guy."
There was another long silence. Richie wished he could see the others' faces. When Adam spoke again, his voice was low and strained.
"You know, don't you?"
"From the second you came over here," Fonzie replied. "The one who's scardest of being blamed comes along to see how the hunt is going. And the one the scardest is scared 'cause he knows it's him."
As he had been many times before, Richie was impressed with Fonzie's judgment of human behavior.
"So... I guess you're gonna beat me up now."
"What, in the pool? Way too many witnesses. Besides, diving's no fun in red water. You can't see the bottom."
"I didn't mean to do it," Adam said pitifully.
"Oh, right. You were just trying tread water or something..."
"No. I... I guess I did mean to do it. But I didn't mean to hurt anything."
"Come here. Come'ere!"
Apparently, Adam came closer, because there wasn't anything further on that subject.
"Now, I just wanna know one thing. Why'd you do it?"
That was what Richie wanted to know, too. He listened intently.
"I... I can't tell you."
"Why not? At this point, I don't think telling us your reason can be any worse than what our imaginations will come up with."
"You'll be mad."
"Like I'll be more mad than I am already," Fonzie said with a snort. "Trust me, it won't make things any worse."
"Well... see, I have this problem. It's kind of hard to explain."
"You don't like girls," Fonzie guessed.
"No! No, I do. But I like you, too. I've always liked you, Fonzie... you're so cool and strong and you know everything about bikes and cars..."
"That's true," Fonzie agreed.
"I had this little dream that I could be friends with you, but you were never really friends with anyone until Cunningham. I got really jealous of him."
"So, it was payback for stealing your dream?"
"No. I'm happy for him, that he gets to be your friend. He's probably a much better friend for you than I would be. But when I saw you here today... I've never seen you at the Y. I was really excited about it. I wanted to hang out with you, swim with you..."
"You wanted to touch me."
"Yeah. But I figured you'd kill me. And... I know it's stupid, but I guess I thought if I couldn't be close to you, the next best thing would be to get close to Richie. I lost my head. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"There ain't nothin' wrong with you. You just let your hero-worship run away with you and momentarily suffered insanity."
"Right." Adam sighed. "I know I can't fix it. Just don't pulverize me too bad, huh?"
"You're right, you can't fix it. But there are a couple things you can do. First, you can apologize to my friend."
After a thick swallow, Adam said, "Cunningham... I'm sorry. I never should have done it. I don't know what else to say."
Richie didn't know what to say either. "Well... thanks for admitting it. Apology accepted."
"Good," said Fonzie. "Now, you know where I work, Milton?"
"Bronko's Garage."
"I forgot I was speaking to an obsessed fan. Yeah, Bronko's. I want you to go there tomorrow morning."
"But it's closed on the weekend."
"Yeah, but I'll be there."
"You going to beat me up there?"
Richie heard knuckles cracking. Then Fonzie's voice again.
"Nah, I'm not gonna beat you up. I'm gonna let you watch me work on cars, we're gonna talk some more, you're gonna see that I'm just an ordinary... well, that I'm almost an ordinary guy, and then when you respect yourself as a worth-while person a little bit, you'll forget all about this whole thing and live a normal, healthy life."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"That's really cool of you, Fonzie."
"That's right. Just one more thing: if you have something you want to say to me, be a man about it. Don't make my friends suffer because you don't got the guts to face me yourself."
"I won't. Not anymore."
"All right."
"Guess I should go..."
"No, we'll go. You stay. If you're the first to leave, everyone will know it was you. Hang around a while and relax."
"Okay."
The three of them made their way back over to the group.
"Another game, Fonzie?" Ralph asked.
"Nah, I told Mrs. C I'd have Richie home for dinner," Fonzie answered. "We'd better get dried off."
"I'll get your towels," Potsie offered.
A little later, Fonzie and Richie were back at the motorcycle, putting Richie's helmet in place.
"I'm glad you didn't hit him," Richie said.
"Yeah... when he shows up for our chat at the garage tomorrow, he won't be expecting it."
"What?!"
"Kidding, kidding. A chat is just talking. A discussion is hitting."
"Oh. Do you really think this... thing of his will just go away after a while?"
"I don't know. I know I sounded sure, but the truth is... sometimes it goes away; sometimes it doesn't."
"What happens if it doesn't?"
"Then he's in for a rough trip, Red. I'm sorry you had to get in the middle of this. I want you to do your best to forget about it and trust that I'll handle it."
"I'll try. Might take a while." He tipped his face up. "Sure is a bright day."
"Sun feels good, doesn't it?"
"Yeah... I can see the light a lot more outside, too. Still no shapes, though."
"Could we tell your folks about it tonight?"
"I guess. But try not to make a big deal out of it. It hasn't gotten much better in the last week, and I don't want to get their hopes too high."
Life's tough, but it's better with Fonzie to get you through it. ^^