He stands, shivering in the night air. Every inch of skin is exposed, save the silver chain around his neck and the small white patch at his side. He has been denied even the pleasure of shoes for this little jaunt.
It is cold in Ohio in November. The hairs on his arms and legs stand at attention like soldiers.
The moonlight reflects off the white scars that freckle his abdomen. It glances off the sliver-pink of newly healing skin, and highlights the shadow of a black and blue mark on his hip.
These are the marks of his disease.
He thinks to how he got here. His father campused him. The official word was that John Smyth was concerned his son's B- in Latin showed a lack of focus. The unofficial word was that an A1c of 10.8 was punishable by a loss of freedom.
He joined Jeff, Nick and David for their weekly movie night. Thad tagged along as well. They were planning to watch a super hero movie. It satisfies all the qualifications the boys have: explosions, beautiful cars, beautiful men and beautiful women. Unfortunately, the debate over Batman vs. Ironman had grown so violent the two movies could not be found.
Instead, they played cards.
"What do you mean, you don't know Euchre?" David had demanded when he and Thad admitted ignorance. "It's like, un-American. Or at least, un Midwestern."
David tried to tutor his fellow Warblers while team 36 sorted the deck. "It's a game of tricks. Ace is high, unless if the jack of the trump suit, or suit of the same color."
Trent and his partner try to follow the rules.
"There is one other thing." Jeff says, a devious grin on this face. "If you can't score a single point, you have to streak. House rules."
"House Rules." David and Nick echoed.
Now, he and Trent are standing sky clad in the moonlight. He takes a deep breath of the brisk air and begins jogging across the dewy lawn. Trent is at his heels.
"I can't believe that hand!" Nick exclaims, not for the first time. If David wasn't the one shuffling and dealing, there might have been acusations of cheating. The cards came perfect for Team 36. They played them well, stealing the last trick of five from Trent, and then each managing to take the entire hand on their own, ultimately scoring the ten points needed to win.
Trent had spewed wine, all over the cards, table, and his partner's white shirt, when Jeff layed the last card and revealed the left bauer.
A camera flash blinds him as he sprints across the lawn. A minute later, he is sitting on his ass in the dewy grass. His knee is scraped and his ankle is sore. He glares at the rabbit warren.
He damns his lack of control.
R&R, P&TY!