Chapter 10
Ryan's face was red with exertion as he started his tenth pull up. His arms bulged and the veins stood out prominently. His chin hovered above the bar as his eyes followed Seth walking by the infinity pool toward him until he was peering directly down at him.
Seth stared up at Ryan with his eyes open wide in mock wonder. "Gather around, kids. Exhibit A: how muscles are built."
Ryan dropped to the ground and put on a tee shirt by his feet. He raised his eyebrows to ask Seth what he wanted.
"Hey." Seth waved waist high to Ryan. "Where'd you get that new contraption?" Seth pointed to the chin up bar braced in the door frame to the poolhouse.
Ryan shrugged.
"I like it. Between that and everything you've done to the poolhouse, I hardly recognize the old place."
"It's not like I can work out at Harbor anymore. I don't have a job. Marissa and I are taking a break ... gotta do something."
"Yeah, avoiding Harbor, I know about that. I can lend you my Talmud or," in a Rocky Balboa voice he said, "Well, ya see, sir. I understan you're looking for sparrin' partners for Apollo, and I jus want ta let ya know I'm very available." Dropping the voice Seth asked, "What do you say, brudda? Can you teach me some moves so I can be a contenda?"
"Sparring? Contender? Boxing movies ...you want to box with me? I've never been in a ring before in my life. My workouts are your sailing. Go sailing." It was mid morning on a hot, breezy Sunday. But Seth wasn't dressed in his usual sailing outfit; he had on a track suit in muted red with white piping down the arms.
"My almost-grandmother in her glorious hotness once advised: gotta change it up, buddy." He kicked at the ground and mumbled, "Whatever it takes to keep Summer."
"And you called me whipped?" Ryan walked to the grass and lay on his back. He began doing sit-ups, cupping his hands to his ears with his elbows splayed out. He exhaled audibly with each sit-up.
"Yeah, okay. But this is Summer." Seth stressed her name as if she were a shrine to behold.
Ryan shot him a dirty look but didn't say anything.
Seth gripped the chin up bar. "So how many of these do you have to do to get your body?" Seth grunted as he struggled to pull himself up. He kicked his feet wildly in the air as if it would propel him up.
"I thought Norland got tired of us," Ryan said ignoring Seth's question. In fact, Norland had noticeably backed off since Holly's party a week ago, but the others had taken his lead with lesser diligence and enthusiasm.
Seth didn't try another chin up. He walked over the Ryan. "The beasties are strangely quieter. But I trained at Camp Tocanhoe where our famous motto is: Be prepared. They caught me off guard the other day but never again."
Ryan paused in his sit-ups. "That's the Boy Scouts."
"Whatever. I'm thinking just a few Ali moves but I'm probably more in Sugar Ray's weight class." Seth paced back and forth in front of Ryan gesturing broadly with his hands. "If it's a gang of them, I can't be blamed for taking a fall, right? But if it's mano a mano, I have to put up a good show for a few seconds. You're right; it's more street fighting than boxing that I'm looking for."
"How about we just transfer schools?"
"If I'm not there, Summer will wander into winter. I need a one-two." Seth took a boxer's crouch and attempted a version of shadow boxing. "If they try any shit in front of Summer..." He flopped on the lawn beside Ryan and fiddled with his shoelace, not looking at Ryan. "Look. I'm not like you. The Anna/Summer/me triangle was a fluke. If I were a scientist, I would throw out those data points as aberrations. I won't lose her!"
"You can trust her," Ryan said. "She's really into you, man."
"Yeah...maybe."
Ryan frowned at him and said, "If it wasn't for me and this Chester mess, you wouldn't be getting all this flack."
Seth sighed, "What you mean is I wouldn't have ever not gotten all this flack. Ryan, are you not like my brother?"
Ryan stared at him for a moment then said, "Why do I feel like you're setting me up?"
"Hear me out. I have skills that I graciously impart to you – appreciation of fine dining, knowledge of graphic novels, awesome musical taste, sailing. I could list ad infinitum. In exchange you teach me the art of non-verbal communication, finding the crazy honeys, and a few fighting moves. Isn't this what brothers do, share?"
"I'm not fighting with you. Your mom would kill me. Remember our fight on the beach?"
"I remember the fight was in a beer induced fog. But without the fog, I go a little ... spastic. It was embarrassing and I'm just lucky there weren't witnesses. I've been getting soft with you around. I hate those guys and I'm not putting up with that shit again." It was the first time Ryan knew of that Seth didn't laugh off his tormentors.
Ryan paused considering Seth's words. "When did this happen – this week? Is it Brad? I'll take care of him."
Seth's reply was both joking and heated. "God, Ryan. You emasculate me with your help. Am I that pitiful that you don't think I can help myself? That's it, isn't it?" Seth shook his head aggravated. "It's not all about Summer either. Since you've come to live here, I've begun to feel better about myself – deluded into thinking I can stand up to them. I never would have even thought I might defend myself last summer. Now you're telling me I was right?"
Ryan interrupted, angry at Seth's accusation. He said loudly in frustration, "No! It's not that. I wouldn't have any idea what to show you. It just happens which is part of my problem."
Seth begged, "Ryan, you've got to understand."
"No, you have to understand. I won't and I can't hit you - even in practice. Your parents are paying so I can be in an anger management class and you want me to teach you to fight. I don't think they'd understand and I owe them." Ryan ran his hand through his hair. "I'm good at fighting because I'm not scared. I'm not scared because I'm used to being hurt and don't have anything to lose – or didn't have anything before I got to know you guys. I don't want you like me, comfortable with being hit. Do you get this?" Ryan stared hard at Seth to make him realize how serious he was.
Seth looked miserable and flopped on the ground beside Ryan. "We'd just be training reflexes. We don't have to have hard contact." Despite the new arguments, Ryan knew from Seth's tone that he understood.
"We can workout together," Ryan offered begrudgingly. He added, "You know good for your heart and muscles kind of stuff. Your mom wouldn't mind that."
"Like what?" Seth asked suspiciously.
"We could run?"
"Rocky did do road work."
"Come on." Ryan got up and headed toward a running path down to the beach.
"Running now - in the heat of the day? Outdoors - exposed to the elements so far from home?"
Ryan stopped at Seth's comment. "We're standing in your yard. How far away is that?" He sighed. "Then I'll call Luke; he's got a whole gym set up in his basement with all kinds of equipment, free weights."
"Luke may have a big, gay, dad, but he still shaves his chest," Seth said petulantly.
Ryan glowered at Seth.
"I understand he's a nice guy now and all but," Seth lowered his voice, "I don't want to do this kind of stuff with him. He'll laugh or be all jockey. Can't we just do this without him?" Seth seemed genuinely distressed and not putting on the pitiful act he used to get his way.
Ryan nodded. "Sure, whatever," he said. Ryan didn't think Luke would say anything insensitive on purpose, but Ryan knew there was history between them. He had probably only seen a minor fraction of Seth's abuse from Luke. Seth had already shown himself to be a good sport about befriending his former nemesis.
Seth's suddenly brightened up. "Wait a minute! Come with me to a land of abandoned Chanukah presents." He headed over to the garage with Ryan following behind him.
Seth stopped by a blue tarp in the back of the garage. "Ahhh...Aaaaah." He lifted the tarp and gestured dramatically at a wide assortment of free weights and equipment. "Dad's short lived fitness phase."
Ryan got down and inspected the goods. He looked up at Seth with a huge smile.
They began to set up on the patio near the poolhouse. They carried parts of an adjustable bench and a lifting bar around to the back. With a wheelbarrow, they loaded up some plates of different weights and pushed it to the back, too.
After a few trips Seth said, "My people respect and know how to deal with hot, desert heat." He stopped unloading the weights and took off his jacket and sweatpants. He had on shorts underneath and a black tee shirt that read "Gleason's Gym" in bold letters across the front of a boxing glove.
Ryan said, "I can't believe you had over a thousand dollars worth of stuff under a tarp in your garage." Ryan was constantly amazed at the Cohens' capacity for casual spending.
"You never said you were interested in weight lifting or we would have."
Ryan began to put together the bench. He had to go back to the garage to look for tools.
When he returned, the wheelbarrow still had a few plates in it and Seth was doing cannonballs into the pool. "What do you think of this one?" Seth asked. He had one knee lifted to his chest as he landed in the water and made a splash over much of the deck.
Ryan ignored him and worked on the bench.
When he was done, he turned to Seth who had gotten tired of cannonballs without an audience and was floating in the pool. "Ready?"
"Oh, yeah." Seth flipped over the side of the float and got out of the pool.
Dripping wet Seth said, "Okay, let's bulk up!" He eagerly approached the bench.
"Hey watch the new bench! Go get changed; you're all wet."
"I can't drip through the house. Mom will kill me." He turned to his pile of clothes by the pool. "Damn, my new Gleason shirt got all wet. That's true vintage from the 1970s before they sold out to the yuppies."
Ryan glared at Seth for a moment, then turned and went into the poolhouse for a few minutes. He returned with a towel and a tee shirt. He threw them to Seth.
Seth dried off with the towel and held a wife beater out in front of him at arms' length.
"Ya think I can pull it off?"
Ryan glared even harder.
Seth tried the same glare at the wife beater. "It's not answering me either." Seth looked up at Ryan.
"I don't have anything else that's clean. It's either that, a dress shirt, or put a towel on the bench."
"And risk sun damage to my sensitive torso? Doesn't Rosa do your laundry?" Seth put on the wife beater. "Hey, not bad. I may take up this look."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "The first thing about a lifting weights is that it's all about form. Bad form and you'll get hurt bad."
"I mean I never thought about laundry. It's like magic; clothes appear out of nowhere clean again."
Ryan sighed and said, "I don't like anyone going through my stuff."
"Whatever, man. Just don't give Mom any ideas for more chores." Seth lay on his back on the bench. He looked up to Ryan his face beaming like a kid in a nervous on the first day of school.
"This is a bench press. Keep your back flat against the bench and hold your stomach tight."
Seth took the bar with 25 pound weights on each side. He brought it to his chest and pushed it up easily a couple of times.
"Slow down. Count to three on the way up. Hold for one. Three on the way down."
Seth tried it again. He looked at Ryan.
Ryan nodded. "Not bad. Exhale up, inhale down."
Seth's grin grew. "Hey, I'm not so bad." He did two sets of twelve reps with a short break between them.
"Now, spot me," Ryan requested. He placed more plates on the bar, secured it with a pin, and set it on the lift. "I should be okay, but if I get in trouble just stop it from smashing my throat."
"Ahh, the student becomes the spotter."
Before he sat down, Ryan pointed to the bench wet with Seth's sweat. "Basic etiquette – wipe off."
Seth scowled. "Tough guys don't care about a little sweat when they're pumping iron," Seth complained. But under Ryan's glare, he wiped off the bench with his towel.
Ryan finished his sets without mishap. "Man that was great. Thanks, I missed weight training more than I knew."
"Ryan, did you pump iron with your brother or with friends?"
Ryan looked into the sea and didn't answer immediately. "Mostly my brother. He set up something in our yard and we all hung out there with his friends. Good times."
"That's nice, Ryan. I wish I could have met him, umm, before you know... We could have worked out together, done guy stuff, fixed a broken car, maybe he'd like to go sailing, ..."
Ryan smiled pensively because he couldn't imagine his two worlds getting along so seamlessly.
Seth said too cheerfully, "We'll have some good times until he can join us, 'kay? What do you say we get ripped?"
Ryan nodded agreeably, glad Seth always knew when not to push a trip down memory lane. They continued working out; Ryan demonstrated and talked Seth through squats, curls, wrist work with dumbbells, and a few other exercises. Seth seemed to lose his self-consciousness; they rambled on about everything and nothing.
After an hour or so Seth said, "Man, my pecs are quivering." Seth felt his arms. "That's good, right?"
"Those are your biceps."
"Well, they're wiped out, too, but it was great. I could use a cold beer."
Sandy approached the guys as they lounged by the equipment. He had on his work suit, but his tie was loose.
"Hey, you found my gear!" He paused at Seth's new wife beater look but didn't comment.
"Yeah, Dad. Some pieces were still in its box, never touch by a certain human's flabby muscles."
"Well, that's because you would never agree to spot me."
"I'll spot ya," Ryan offered.
"Maybe tomorrow. You guys look like your done."
"Yeah. Ready to kick back with ice cold brewskies."
"Your mom would kill me." He paused and looked at them considering. "She's out late night with the Newpsies." Sandy left them.
A few minutes later, Sandy returned in board shorts and a tee shirt. In his hand were three Coronas and a towel.
"Dad! All right." Seth's head bobbed up and down in approval. He took two and handed one to Ryan.
Ryan looked uncertainly at Sandy before he took a sip.
Sandy smiled at him. "Just one. And don't tell The Kirsten."
Ryan nodded his head toward the weights.
Sandy said, "Sure. It's been a while, let's start with 100."
Ryan adjusted the weights and unobtrusively spotted Sandy for two sets of 10 reps. He hadn't needed any help.
"Not bad for an old guy," Ryan commented.
"Not bad period. A'nold would have had some competition if a hot chick hadn't turned my head and we didn't have a beautiful baby boy the next year."
Seth scoffed, "Yeah, mom found you on Venice Beach not Berkeley Law. And don't talk about mom like that, or me in the third person or we're kicking you out of the boys' club."
Sandy didn't reply but posed stiff armed with an exaggerated shake like muscle builders in competition. They all laughed.
Sandy found his beer, then his towel and wiped down the bench.
Ryan gave Seth an 'I told you so' look. Seth just smirked.
As Ryan took a nice long drink from his beer, he noticed Kirsten out of the corner of his eye. He choked and quickly hid the bottle behind his back.
"Hi guys." She paused and took in the scene of dumbbells and weights scattered around her patio. She frowned for a moment at Seth who had a beer in his hand. "Sandy, can I talk to you?"
As Sandy left, Seth silently laughed holding his belly. "So busted," he whispered. Sandy turned around and frowned at him to cut it out.
The couple walked over by the door to the house and whispered quietly. At first the boys couldn't hear what they were saying but as Kirsten and Sandy forgot about them their voices grew.
"It's not about the beer... but make sure they know it's not okay to get drunk at parties... and never drive with even a single drop."
"They know, but I'll tell them again. What is this about then?"
"I'm not sure, but it's important." There was a pause.
"Why don't you come join us?"
"Uggh, and sweat on upholstered vinyl? No. I want to know why is Seth suddenly interested in lifting weights? He wouldn't touch them with you just last year. And he's been quiet this last week. I think he's being bullied again."
"What? No, honey. He's fine... You think? Well in either case, remember the last time we talked to Dr. Kim about this Seth wouldn't talk to us for a month. Ryan enjoys lifting so he's just being friendly."
"Are you sure? No one touches my boys," Kirsten said fiercely. "And what about Ryan? How is he doing? Does it seem like he's talking more or is it my wishful thinking?"
"What do you think? Ryan, a talker? Not so much. And he takes on guilt like a natural born Jew... Kirsten, he's fine. They're both fine. We've smoothed over legal with the Moores, and he's taking therapy seriously, what more can we ask? Let's give everyone some space."
"But keep an eye out on them, okay? Talk to them tonight."
"Okay."
As Kirsten and Sandy returned, the boys started to act busy, straightening weights and whistling, as if they hadn't overheard anything.
Sandy said, "Kirsten's a regular Joseph Campbell acolyte so we're on our own tonight, men."
"Ryan, don't ask who he is. It's a parental ploy to get you to look up references." He scratched his chin. "Do you think that's spelled with a 'p'?"
"How do you think you got so well rounded?" Sandy asked.
"Umm. Nickelodeon? The newspapers? Random people I meet?"
"George Lucas used his archetypes in Star Wars, didn't he?" Ryan asked.
Kirsten interrupted their conversation. "You three boys have a good time but be good. I'm going out with friends." She looked directly at Ryan. "You're off the hook for this week, but we worked it out so Dolly won't go to the club weekends, and we won't go on weekdays. You and I start up yogalates again at Ed's Saturday session."
Seth started laughing, loudly this time.
Kirsten glared at Seth. "Care to join us?" In a puzzled tone she added, "And do you need more underwear?"
Seth stopped his laugh cold. "From my own mother. Harsh," he muttered.
"Bye." Kirsten turned and walked toward the back door. Sandy followed her out.
Seth turned to Ryan. "This is precedent setting we need to play it right. Maybe if we go along with the Dr. Phil act we can get another beer out of Dad. "
"Your mom notices everything. It's amazing."
"Not a moment of privacy here. Dad can be just as bad. Annoying, isn't it?"
Ryan finished his beer. "No. It's kinda nice. No one cared much before."