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Sitting on the plastic chair, his eyes half-closed, trying to ignore his pain, Greg was basing his sore wrist in his right hand. He did not pay attention to agitation that was unfolding around him. Or the nurse, who carried on the teenager a professional smile, nor the radiologist, now behind his shield of leaded glass, seemed important to him.

« Greg, put your hand properly. Try to keep the fingers elongated. »

The boy turned his head toward the third person present near the radiologist. Although he knew that his life was not in danger, Ed looked at his son with anxiety in his eyes.

Greg thought that anyway, he didn't bend his fingers. The pain was too strong despite the swallowed tranquilizer an hour earlier. Grimacing, he laid his hand with fingers swollen on the glass plate. A movement easily executed despite the heavy protective gear which isolated him x-ray gun that issued his salvos noisily, filling the room with its dry and metallic sounds.

Ed looked at the radiologist. The bay horse nodded his head, satisfied.

« It's good. You can return to the waiting room. He'll have to wait 10 minutes and then the doctor will examine him again ! »

Greg rose, satisfied, his face neutral, grimacing slightly when he realized that his broken fingers might hit the lead protection which it emerged from. Ed had approached him, delivering a warm smile. But despite the affection that bound him to the bear, Greg couldn't warm up his painful soul. It is in silence that the boy returned to the waiting room, paying more attention to the faded walls or ten years old magazines were stacked on the coffee table. Ed sat down next to him, on his right. The relatively late hour was that there was almost no one left in the radiology service. Sometimes, looking up, Ed recognized a doctor, a nurse with whom he had worked during his previous service. He addressed them always a smile and a nod of greeting.

Greg watched his painful hand, trying once again to touch his wounds from his fingers intact, grimacing, realizing that they were well and truly broken.

« I am such a failure ! »

Ed looked at the teenager, shaking his head.

« You're not the first guy to break something.

• I know it well. But this isn't a reason. I am worthless. »

Ed kept to himself a sigh of resignation. Greg needed a strong adult at his side.

« Nothing is over, Greg. I won't lie to you. I don't know what to do to get out of there you are immersed. But I've lived long enough to know that nothing in life is totally finished. »

Greg sighed, keeping his head down. Without his broken fingers, he would had took his head with his both hands. His voice betrayed his mixture of exasperation and sadness.

« This isn't your fault, Daddy. I probably should not have listened to Mark. If I'm there, it's because I did ! »

Ed was silent. He dreaded the coming of that time. The moment or Greg would search for a culprit to his situation. He knew Mark was going to be his first target. The worst was that he was largely right. Even Mark recognized it.

« You're young, Greg. You don't get everything yet. There are moments, or one must admit that we can't choose. We can't separate what we please of what afflicts us. You are right on this point. Listen to Mark put you in this situation. It's true. But listening to him also had made you finally stopped lying to yourself and suffer continually of these lies. This isn't his fault if your friends have proved to be perfect assholes. »

Greg listened to Ed with one ear, stroking the border between his normal skin and the purple tint that hurt him. Worse even than his ravaged mind.

« Think how long you that your love for Francis would have remained a secret. A week ? A month ?

• This would have allowed me to believe during this time that I still had a future. »

Ed kept his heads down, not wanting to listen to the cutting remark.

« I have also hoped that it might never happen to you. Coming out allowed you to fully reconcile with yourself. I should have to show more cautious too. I let Mark to talk to because I agreed with him. I don't told you, Greg, but I'm as responsible as your father. Neither he nor I have want to see you throwed to the media. Or end up in a minor league.

• Or even worse, to the Montreal Alouettes. »

Ed sketched a smile.

« I think that in this respect, they are already vaccinated ! »

Greg couldn't stop smiling in turn, keeping an intense sadness at the bottom of his heart.

« Even this solution is prohibited to me now. I suck. I know that I will not even get my high school graduation. No college will want me. Football was my only chance to not finishing as an attendant. And I have even no more this chance ! »

Greg used his hand to rub the tears coming into his eyes. He tried to repress his sadness. He didn't cry. Not here in any case. But he couldn't. He couldn't anymore. Feeling himself go, Greg laid his head on the shoulder of the bear and finally exploded.

He needed it for so long. But his pride prevented. But he couldn't keep. All was ganging up against him. He had no future than a gloomy and mundane life. More importantly, he felt marked by red iron for not being heterosexual.

And that, he couldn't handle anymore. Hiccupping, Greg was crying bitter tears, face down in Ed's torso who could do anything other than to put his large, warm hand on the neck of the boy. He was trying to keep a warm and neutral tone, but he couldn't hide his emotion either.

« Mark would say to completely empty yourself and I must say he's right. Let it go. Evacuate all this shit that you have. I can't promise to succeed, Greg. But I can swear than your father and me, will do us everything possible to get you out of here. »

A scratchy throat attracted the attention of Ed and the boy who was trying to dry his tears. Facing them, smiling, the young black panther watched the duo with curiosity.

« Come with me, Greg. I'll finish your exam. »

The two men were surprised, Ed even more to what it seemed.

« What do you do here, doctor Pessoa ? Where is Dr. Phillips ?

• He was paged to the emergency room. I am in charge to cover his consultations while he is busy.

• Oh... »

Ed stood up, looking at the boss of his usual service.

« Greg can come alone. I think you still have papers to complete.

• Indeed. Can I leave you alone ? »

Greg nodded, a little absent again, entering the cabinet which the panther closed the door before taking an envelope and opening it, pulling two x-rays that she placed on the drive before turning on the neon. She was running her fingers over the images of the white bones as Greg took place on the seat assigned to patients.

« You won't be surprised to learn that it is the wall who won. »

Evora smiled warmly at the boy to try to cheer him up a bit. Greg was unable to resist the message and showed a short smile that offsetting the ever-present sadness in his voice.

« I can't deny my defeat, no. Is it serious ?

• Not really. The first joint of your ring finger is cracked and your middle finger is broken in two. Not moving, there is therefore no need to operate. I'm going to put a splint and in less than a month, you can reuse your hand in the normal way, the tendon is not touched. »

Evora diverted her attention of the x-rays and gathered bands and needed splints, putting the material on a tray she laid beside the boy, bringing a table.

« Put your hand on it and keep your fingers well extended. »

Greg obeyed, grimacing from the pain induced by the movement. Evora smiled gently at the wounded man while she had bruised fingers together. Greg remained silent while the panther covered the wounds with some gauze before immobilize all in a large brace covering his two fingers.

« At the time normal I'd say come back once a week but as your father is a nurse, he can change all this himself. You're lucky. »

Greg couldn't stop a grin to live his face.

« I feel that way, indeed ! »

Evora seemed to ignore the sarcastic tone of the boy.

« I'm off the fingers on a stupid way, for trifles. It is clear that I am lucky !

• This is part of the nuisances of the existence. Are you left-handed ?

• Ambidextrous. But I use more my left hand, Yes.

• Well, you'll be that little embarrassed. »

Greg watched the doctor, fearing additional pain due to a wrong move which never came. In no time, his bruised fingers were packed and protected.

« You know Ed then ? »

Greg's voice was a little weak and uncertain. The panther, an experienced doctor, understood that this harmless request was just a test to see if the boy could go further in his confidences. Evora grabbed a plate and began to fill out a form, keeping an eye on the young injured.

« Oh yes ! He is haunting my service since I took the head three years ago. One always needs a big man in a hospital. We have often difficult people to carry, heavy things to move or patients who need to feel they'll be in big troubles if they don't settle.

• I see bad Ed be violent. He's strong, yes, but I never saw him angry.

• My boy, pray that this does not happen ! I saw him once and is not an experience I want to repeat !

• Oh, really ?

• Long story. Ed is very patient, very competent but the day we saw him angry, we remember it for life !

• So, I must not be so important that this in his eyes then...

• Why is that ? »

Greg lifted his head, not knowing too much if he had to tell more. But if Ed was also indiscreet than he imagined, so the doctor had to know a lot.

« He didn't even not got angry because of what happens to me... »

Evora smiled, resting the plate and devoting all her attention on the young patient.

« You know, anger and violence are not necessarily useful or good views to solve a problem. Ed knows that. In your case, it wouldn't help, if not to hurt you even more. You think not ?

• Perhaps. But it doesn't tell me what I need to do. If I can do something ! It's so unfair ! I don't know what to do ! My parents either ! Nobody knows !

• I know. But no one can predict its future. Sometimes something changes or happens and raise the dices.

• That's what I have to do then ? Wait and pray ?

• It cannot hurt. But the best is always to provoke our chance. One change can sometimes change everything.

• You believe ?

• Oh, yes ! It is thanks to this if I'm here ! My parents were from Guinea Bissau. A former Portuguese colony. But the departure of the settlers have not brought us freedom. On the contrary. My parents finally fled the country with us, me and my younger brothers. »

Greg sat silent, listening carefully to the doctor.

« We could have ended up in a camp of refugees in the region, in Guinea or Senegal. But they tried their luck and we embarked clandestinely on a freighter.

• It has not have been easy.

• Oh no ! The ship was caught in a hurricane and sank off the coast of Puerto Rico. Me and my brothers, we have survived, but we have never seen our parents after that. We have been supported by a charitable organization and we were able to emigrate to the United States later. »

Greg remained silent. His eyes had changed, he could not help but compare his fate with that of the doctor. And he felt somewhat ashamed. Evora kept a tired smile.

« I was ten at the time. But I still remember that night or my parents have made their choice. If they had waited one more day and took another ship, everything would have been different. Not necessarily for the better, note. But there are worse fate than to end up in the United States, you think not ? »

Greg did not. He thought, looking at his splint.

« Without doubt. But what will be my America ? »

Evora shrugged her shoulders.

« I don't know.

• I don't even know if I can trust them again. Initially, I was listening to what they said but now I don't know if it's a good idea. Everything is not their fault. But Mark is responsible for this. As I do for him having confidence.

• They aren't supermen you know. Neither gods. Nobody is. Not even me !

• Who to trust then ?

• You, at first. Don't judge your parents too harshly. They make mistakes, too, like everyone else. You trusted them and you did well. They are not responsible for what they cannot control. I guess they made the common mistake to believe being capable of anything. I don't have any children but my brothers have, and they did all the possible mistakes I think with their kids. Which didn't stop them from their parental homework correctly over time. »

Greg stood up, moving his hand to see if the splint was holding well.

« How do you feel ?

• I think painkillers are good effect now, I feel less pain. »

Evora shook her head and went out a notebook from her pocket, noting a few lines before to give the sheet off to the boy.

« I've prescribed you painkillers. Take some when the pain is too strong, but not more than four times a day, right ? »

Greg was trying to decipher the maze of lines and arabesques that were supposed to form words. He was always amazed by the ability of pharmacists to decipher these hieroglyphs.

« It is understood. Thank you doctor.

• It's nothing. And if you still need to talk to me. You know where to find me. »

Greg shook his head, smiling shyly.

« I'll keep that in mind. Thank you. »

Evora returned her smile to the boy that came out of the consultation room.

The boy watched, curious, the yellow bottle of pills, still turning the small box on which his name appeared. He was slowly headed towards the parking lot of the hospital or Ed waited, his ass on the hood of his car.

« Can we go ?

• I think. »

Greg looked fairly in a pronounced way the label. Ed noted the concentration of the boy who stood near the front passenger door.

« Something wrong ?

• Dad, you'd be upset if I asked you something important ?

• I don't know, but I guess not. »

Greg always looked at the bottle, wearing his eyes from time to time on the bear.

« There are things that I never dared ask actually, despite my curiosity.

• As long as this does not overflow on some subjects, I don't see that I can hide.

• Are you happy ?

• Huh ?

• I mean... In the courtroom, I remember that you had hesitated before signing. »

Ed nodded.

« Indeed.

• Can you tell me why ? »

The bear remained silent a while. Questioning himself, looking for the right words to illustrate his feelings. He stood on the other side of the car near the driver's door.

« To be honest, I was scared. Afraid of being mistaken. Fear of not making the right decision. Afraid to do anything which would hurt you later. I have no child, Greg. In any case, I didn't, and I had no desire, no need to have. I have no experience in the field despite my guards in Pediatrics. I love children, this isn't a problem. But there is a huge difference between giving assistance at any time and be responsible for his life during. You understand ? »

Greg listened carefully.

« Why you signed then ?

• Well, who really knows ? It was so fast. I think I acted on instinct. I knew what happened to you, Greg. I could only guess, but at that time, you were in total need. You needed a roof. From loved ones on which there is. You needed protection. Mark was willing to give it to you. It seemed natural to follow. »

Greg always listened to the bear, smirking.

« And now ? »

Ed surprised Greg with his large smile.

« Now ? If I could go back and relive that scene, I would stop my nonsense and tell my fear to go to hell ! You need of attention, love and protection. Nothing else should matter, Greg ! Your well-being is the only important thing ! »

Greg's smile was growing, opening the car door and taking place. Ed did the same and began slowly joining the main road.

« Feel better ?

• Yes. If there is one thing that I learned today, it's that you're a terrible liar, dad. »

Ed was trying to keep his eyes on the road, inwardly pleased to hear Greg call him that way.

« What do you mean ?

• I imagine that the doctor is right. That you want to do too much sometimes. I'm not stupid you know, dad. I know that you all set to force me to confide.

• Of course not !

• Oh, please ! I was going out of the hospital when I saw Dr. Phillips sitting at a table sipping his coffee ! If this is a medical emergency, so I'm straight in the end ! »

Ed strongly blushed under his fur, ashamed to have been discovered.

« Mmm, that's true. I'm sorry.

• You've done that just for me ?

• By coming to pick you up at the school, yes... This will cost me four extra nights of guard and three early morning deliveries of croissants for the team ! »

Greg rested his head on the headrest.

« Thank you.

• Thanks for what ?

• Not to lie to me. Now, I know that when you say you'll do everything to get out me of here, I know that you don't tell this to just reassure me. »

The car was moving at a good pace on the almost deserted road, the night falling fast under the clouds thick and dark gray.

« I'm glad to hear it.

• What is unresponsive to the question is how to. Your boss told me that one change could change everything. I don't see myself changing my sexuality.

• Me neither. We will find, Greg. You know at least that we will do everything to. »

Greg merely nodded in silence.

« Well, now that that's settled, do I have a chance to finally know what you did to blow your hand like this ?

• Well... »

Greg began, a tired smile on his lips, to tell what had happened the previous hours.

--

« Greg ? »

The interrupted boy was snooping in his locker when his name rings in his ears. A female voice had spoke to him, it was not so common since he came out. An unknown female voice, it was even less. Since the entire school knew he was gay, Greg was provided to force himself to go out with girls who wanted to go out with him and seduce him. Turning his head a little, Greg could see the girl who hailed him.

Smiling, clutching a thick book of physics against her generous breasts, wearing an elegant but tight blue night dress, the young Black Panther smiled at him. The wrapper indicated to the boy that she and him were at the same level, even though Greg didn't knew her, not having so much courses in common with her.

« Yes ?

• Nice to meet you, Greg ! I'm Lorette MacMillan ! The head of the rhetoric's club ! You have few minutes ? »

Greg was thinking about his response, realizing that it was almost time to eat for him. It seemed to him that the girl knew, and that the question which she asked him was rhetorical.

« I have a few minutes before eating, then I guess. You wanted to talk about what ? »

The question of Greg was also a little rhetoric. The boy knew that a fragile movement of support for him had appeared in the high school. But despite all the raises, he had always refused to join the movement, giving virtually no valid reason.

« First of all, I wanted to tell you that, as a high school student, I am completely indignant of the fate you're living. To like the other boys should not stop you from being able to be part of the team. I'm here for the last month but I knew that you was one of the pillars. To kick you out of the team is just outrageous. »

Greg affected to not react to this preamble. He had received many expressions of support, and he accepted them in a polite way, but this did not change anything for him.

« With the club, that I encourage you to join at the same time, after all, as a group we're always stronger than alone, right ? It is something you had to learn in your team ? In short, with the club, we decided to take advantage of the next match of the football team to express our opposition to your exclusion and require your return in the team. »

Greg looked up at the sky. Lorette continued to talk and did not seem to notice the gesture of exasperation of the boy.

« To surrender to a small group of obscurantist is an injustice for you and a threat to all. If nothing is done, this will encourage other reactionary groups and who knows who will be their next targets ? Foreigners ? Women ? The Jews, again ? »

Greg wondered if the young woman stopped sometimes to talk in order to breathe, so her flood of words seemed inexhaustible. She put at least enthusiasm, and she seemed passionate by her struggles. Somehow, it showed to Greg than he could actually have some help.

« With the club we decided therefore to take advantage of Saturday's match next to loudly express our opposition to such social regression that disregards your most basic rights. And... »

Greg lifted his hand to stop the flow of words.

« Lorette, that is ? Look, I'm flattered, but I'm not interested, sorry. »

The girl opened her eyes all round.

« But why, Greg ? Do not give up ! That's precisely what these arrears are waiting from you ! »

Greg felt a little anger mount hearing Lorette qualify his former teammates that way. With sadness, Greg realized that he missed the team. As his friends... No, the people that he thought were his friends missed him. His angry outbursts flowed quickly however, the spirit of Greg being drowned in the flood of the words of the young woman.

« We are no longer in the dark ages ! We have conquered many rights which we were naturally dedicated anyway but is refused us for spurious reasons so that the ruling class does not lose the power that they was taken up during these centuries of oppression and submission ! No struggle is small and the smaller advance benefits to his victims and others ! »

Greg sighed inwardly. Fred told him a little about the girl, and it seemed that the adjectives of "passionate", "stubborn", "determined" that his friend had used were below reality.

Greg looked at the inside of his locker, now listening to Lorette with a distracted ear. The girl did not seem to be aware of the inattention of the boy. Greg stared at the floor of his locker, empty and clear. This view he pinched his heart. It was here that he kept his spare parts of his protective armor, as well as sometimes a few dirty t-shirts. He had to give it all back to the direction and the memory of his gesture in the locker room not pulling him even more a smile of satisfaction.

There remained only the nostalgia of a bygone era. He had a team. Friends. A golden future. Of this, it remained only an empty floor. Sad omen of his future now.

« The fact that this team of reactionaries have won their first four games is a serious handicap for your fight, I agree. »

The mention of the team out of his reverie. He couldn't help but let a growl of sarcasm.

« I said something that shouldn't ?

• Not really. It's just that this demonstrates you're new. »

Lorette looked at Greg with a curious eye. Greg explained to him.

« The four teams you're talking finished at the fourth bottom places last year. Counting them all, they have won only ten games, they suck so much than even a team of junior high would beat them ! Besides, we had put them more points and we had cashed in much less !

• It's better, then ! »

Greg shook his head.

« No Lorette. I am flattered by your determination but please, best is to do nothing.

• What for? Without a focus on your case, nothing will change for you and other boys who are and who will be in your case !

• I know that ! I know all that ! But I just don't have the desire or the strength to do it at all ! My parents thought about to alert the media but thinking, they quickly concluded that it was useless and that would hurt me more than anything else. I had to admit they were right. »

Lorette listened patiently Greg put forward his pleas.

« If I could change things, Lorette, I'll do it. But I have no confidence in the future now. There is too much at stake. I'm not alone in the part.

• What do you mean ?

• Lorette, if I'm forcing things, if I can get back in the team, there is no more team ! Others have been clear about it. If I come back, and a judge can force this, they'll leave ! I can't play alone, Lorette. That's impossible ! And then...

• And then ?

• And then it would be unfair. Several of the guys on the team have reaffirmed their support to me. But they are not many. Not enough to form a team. It won't change anything. My return won't have other way out than the end of the team and the team will have to withdraw for the season. »

Greg's eyes were filled with tears, but a hand quickly passed over the face pulled away his sight. His voice betrayed his emotion however.

« And even if I came back, what of the rest ? I'll still have to fight in college ? I'll have even less chance to finish drafted with such liabilities. I wanted to be a footballer, Lorette. It was my dream. But I am clear now. There is too much to do, and I didn't want to end up like a media junk, I know I'll lose the little that I'll get once the cameras will be gone. »

Lorette remained silent, listening to Greg's tirade.

« To go in a different high school. Another State. We have thought of everything. It doesn't change anything. At one time or another, I hit this wall, Lorette. To hit it once too harshly touched me. I won't resist to another shock. »

Greg's voice became more and more sad, melancholy.

« It is the interest of the group, Greg. We're vulnerable, fragile. We can't resist alone to the opposing group. I don't know what you're feeling, Greg, it's impossible for me. But I know that remain isolated can never be beneficial to you. You need support. Someone behind you to support you, push you forward and get over the hurdles. We can start here, with just our group, and go beyond then. »

Greg did not hide this time his grin sarcastic to live on his face.

« Be lucid, Lorette. If I thought than I had a chance, I would take it ! I told you already ! This isn't a story that touches me alone ! There is also the team !

• What do you mean ? »

Greg turned away his face.

« I don't want to harm them. It sounds crazy, but it would be unfair. I blame them, but I understand them a little. And then if I impose myself, there will be no team at all. And it will be the entire school who will be penalized. For nothing. You understand a little better my problem ? I have no solution, here or elsewhere. None ! »

Lorette listened silently to the boy. She looked at Greg's face carefully, but she could not guess the power of his annoyance with his resentment to having to justify himself over and over again, and have to endure still more this feeling of injustice.

« You owe them nothing, you know. They may have been relatives, but they chose to reject you. »

The voice of Lorette was safer, more compelling.

« Not only is it a sign of rejection, but it is also unfair because it will follow you your life during. »

Greg could not contradict the young woman. Fred was right. She knew to impose her views.

« Listen, Lorette, I know. »

Greg wanted to regain control, and made his voice stronger, more determined. He felt his anger mount, and this time he didn't wanted to do anything to appease it.

« These fucking assholes are blowing my life, but I'm still able to reason and see what is the most important. I know you mean well act but if you want to have a positive influence, pity, then do nothing ! A demonstration here is doomed to failure. I understood that. At the announcement of my ouster, nobody here or almost has taken publicly my defense ! In fact, they were more worried about the team fail to qualify for the finals than anything else. These idiots are not able to see further than the end of their nose and it'll be time before they understand that gained those four victories will not count in the end !

• So why to stay passive ? It is not staying inert that change things !

• Nevertheless, I think that the team is more important than me, Lorette. This sounds crazy, but if the team forfeit this year, I'm not sure that they can come back at a high level ! We missed the qualification of little last year, for one point. It was our best ranking for more than a decade ! Most of them are assholes but I feel unable to harm them. You understand better what is at stake ? For me, the team, it's the most important thing. If you understand that in addition to knowledge that I'm screwed by the recruiters who do not want to propose a queer to the University teams, then you can perhaps understand me ! »

Greg did not now conceal his resentment. Lorette had him cornered and forced to relive again and again the events just to live as well as the feelings attached. Just for that, he was hating the girl. He was not seeping his words as he spoke, passers-by not missing anything but continuing to walk as if it did not concern them. Lorette kept her calm, and masked no more her sadness.

« Then maybe review our actions. You're right on one point, Greg. I can't put myself in your shoes and I don't really understand your reasoning. But if there is one thing with which I will be inflexible, it's to let submit you to the dictatorship of the majority. We must do something, Greg. And I'm ready to help you. Despite you if necessary. »

Greg closed his eyes to try to calm down, without success.

« You're really stubborn, Lorette. I can't approve your choice. I know you mean well, but believe me, if you don't listen more to others, you're going to hurt someone. And worse, maybe. »

Greg closed his locker with a violent gesture before closing the conversation assuming a quick step. Lorette had enough sense to know that it was better for the boy to stay alone for a while before to come back.

Breathing rapidly and deeply, the spirit in fire, he have relived his worst moments of his life, thinking that Lorette was maybe beautiful but her obsessions were making her a dangerous girl inside, Greg joined a step fast the refectory. The metal lockers covered virtually the entire length of the wall with the exception of the last yards. The other high school students in the area, having heard the argument, had preferred not to intervene and pretend than Greg wasn't there.

Seeing the naked wall now near the corner, the boy let himself go to a bad tempered gesture and made his left hand a fist he crushed way rage against the paint in order to relieve his anger.

Greg didn't hear the sound of the bone breaking under the wrong dose, the too powerful impact. On the other hand, the intense pain he felt made him snatch a cry suddenly who made him to understand that he had struck too tightly.

--

Being careful not to walk in the broad pool of water just at the exit of the bus, Francis walked toward the courthouse who was standing right in front of him. Looking up a bit, the boy noticed that the gray and threatening sky should still keep its waters suspended time to get inside. Mounting slowly the stairs, feeling just his heart beat a little faster, the boy pushed the heavy glass door and stood for a moment motionless, looking around him, letting his eyes to adjust to the new brightness, greater than that outside. The grey, leaden sky wouldn't let guess it was the early afternoon. Francis resumed his march and joined the rounded hospitality counter, behind which a young lioness sorted papers, annotating them sometimes, sighing each time that her work was interrupted by a phone call, short everytime, the time for her to direct the call to the correct recipient. Francis was not surprised, seeing how the woman was busy, to see her look up less than half a second to refocus on her task.

« Yes ?

• Excuse me... The courtroom, please ?

• Which one ? There are five here.

-The... »

Francis plunged his hand into a pocket of his jacket. Blue threadbare, still a good outfit anyway, but a size too small. Francis knew that if he was thinner, it would be fit him like a glove. He removed a piece of paper, reading it a short time.

« The room or going to officer justice Mansfield. For Redhorn's case. »

Francis thought a moment that the hostess was disinterested in him, pursuing her tasks.

« Courtroom number 3. It is on the third floor. The lift is behind the portico of security. »

The woman had not interrupted her work. Either she had a good memory, either the information was hidden in the mass of paper heaped in front of her. For Francis, it didn't mattered, he thanked the hostess before continuing on his way. Front of him stood a tigress in uniform. Size thin and tall, watching the boy with an air of curiosity.

« You shouldn't be in the classroom, my boy ? »

Francis shook his head, a hand in his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. Francis looked at it a moment before putting it in the plastic tub, passing under the detector that took no worth to buzz. The keychain was thick and Francis knew that among the keys, there were those of his former home. He knew that he should remove them because he had no other home than Mark and Ed were willing to let him. But he still refused to do, wanting to keep a remnant of his more or less happy past. It didn't mattered, since the rental agency certainly did change the locks getting back the house.

« I should, but I have a leave of absence, Madam. Want to see ? »

The policewoman in uniform shook her head in denial.

« It is not worth. I bathe in enough paperwork like this to add more ! »

Francis smiled in thanks before taking the elevator. English and mathematics courses would be quickly and easily caught back. This isn't what worried him the most.

No, what mattered was knowing how much time his father would spend in jail at the end of the hearing would be held.

Arrived at the desired floor, Francis turned to the left, at the invitation of the wall panel indicating the courtroom. It was open in part, one of two shutters of wood being pushed inwards. Francis looked around him. The role of the judge was empty, as of the judged. Except for the policeman on duty, a large muscular and thick bull Francis was not really surprised to admire the template, there was, on the two columns of bench, that a dozen people in the room, while it could contain more than a hundred.

This lack of public was not really surprising Francis. His father was not a hardened criminal, a serial killer, or a personality that had snapped that would face his responsibilities. It was his father. A quidam, whatever he was ordinarily. For just ordinary case compared to what could happen in the nebulous jungle of crime.

If there was a freelance writer for the local newspaper in the room, this would already be a feat !

Francis went up the rows, asking or he could move without disturbing anyone. Not in the front row. Too close to places assigned to the prosecution and the accused. And then there was a couple who stood by the hand, sitting. A still relatively young couple. The leopard woman stood straight, look strong, strict, but on the point of give. The husband did not hide the traces of tears that had rolled down his cheeks.

Francis stood in the opposite column, alone on his bench, with a full view. He saw then the bull move and open a door. The heart of Francis leaped. Wearing a light gray suit, with his hands tied behind his back, his father had just entered. His gaze felt on the couple helding hands, lowering his head in shame as their looks were more harsh, contemptuous, bearer of a dull anger. The vested guard at his guard delivered him from his handcuffs, showing him the chair upon which Francis senior took his place. Again, the policeman opened the door.

« All rise for Justice Mansfield ! »

Wearing a black dress of magistrate, the judge made her entrance while everyone, including the Redhorns, rose to meet the ritual. The mature age woman, bovine, took her place and her eye allowed the public to take place. She grabbed a piece of paper and gave reading in a soft but firm voice.

« We are here to hold a hearing in the Redhorn's case, accused by the State of Colorado of... »

The judge hesitated for a short moment before continuing.

" Illegal arms port, of complicity in theft with violence, of complicity to voluntary homicide on the person of Bradley Chunning, 21. »

Francis noticed the movement of the couple. As he foresaw, they were the parents of the victim. His father was still standing, being recovered only to hear the State's complaint. He kept his head down. The judge continued.

« Contrary to your Sidekick Charley... »

The judge marked once again a hesitation.

« ... Piercy, you decided to plead guilty, which explains this hearing. After deliberating, the Court has accepted your plea. But to keep the agreement, you will have to, as required by the laws of the State, to report acts of the... »

New hesitation.

"June 30. It is at the end of your statement that the sentence will be made, in accordance with the laws of the state. »

Francis senior shook his head, opening his mouth to begin to respond in a weak and trembling voice that will inflame as his statement. He took care to take a look to the parents of his victims, being careful to put all the humility and all the regret which he was capable.

« Thank you your honor... I... I don't know where to begin in fact. I'm not a bad guy, you know. I... The three years that have passed have destroyed me, your honor. I got in a family turmoil that broke me. That has hurt my son. I don't want to talk about this as an excuse, right. But as a reason. A bad reason, but a reason anyway. Today, I am nothing. Five years ago, I had a privileged position. A family. Two beautiful children. I lacked nothing, and I was paying attention to what my relatives lack nothing also. And I made it. I had my share of problems. But three years ago, my wife decided to leave. She took my daughter and I do not know where they are. In the past, had happened us enough... things that I wouldn't hold it against her. Unwittingly, I have... I acted wrong way and even though she had forgiven me, I knew that one day or the other, this would cause a rupture. It happened. I found myself alone with my son. I thought I could hold for him. But without realizing it, I dove. »

The whole room was steeped in religious silence. Only breathing noises were heard. Francis listened intently, occasionally looking at the parents of the victim. It wouldn't change their opinion about his father, but at least they would have a beginning of explanation on the sequence of events that had deprived them of their child.

« I was able to keep my job for a while. But my performance dropped and I didn't care. I drank more and more and I was deaf and blind to the needs of my son who ended up living on his side and taking charge of himself. He was always in my house but I did not see him, only rarely. I was also sensitive to him as to a broken chair that is kept against a wall for lack of time to throw it. I drank more and more. I ended up fired. I then did odd jobs one after others. Enough to win enough to drink, something to eat. Little more. And when I had to choose between the food and the drinks, I took alcohol without thinking about my son's needs. »

Francis Junior kept the head down. It made him back his unpleasant memories. These difficult times or he had to settle for out-of-date biscuits. Questionable drinks. He remembered the slow deterioration of the condition of the home.

« I think to say that even a garbage man is more responsible, more respectable, more able to support a family. I couldn't taste anything. Except to drink. And then I met Charley. »

A slight hiccup was heard. The victim's mother knew that they were approaching the fateful moment and she couldn't contain herself as she did before.

« For me, he was like a brother. A bar friend. We spent nights sets drinking, building castles in the air, to support one another in us saying that the problems came from others and not from us. A few months ago, he suggested we move on to action. That we become masters of our destiny. For this, we needed to clear the plate, and our debts. And so finding the money. A lot of money. I was starting to have months of rent late and I was still lucid enough to understand that I was going to lose the house. But I was too stupid to listen to him too. Rather than take myself in my hands, I followed him. He showed me the alcohol dealer or we... Initially, I didn't agree. I told him it was too dangerous. He told me that no, on the contrary. That they worked there only an old fart and some nights, a kid. Easy targets in the end. »

A new cry was heard. Francis senior dared not turn his head, but he knew where it came from. He understood only too well.

« I then argued that a merchant of alcohol, it was not a huge profit. He said no, but he knew one thing. »

Francis turned his head then and looked at the parents of his victim.

« I'm sorry. I can't imagine the horror that I put you through. I regret it. But everything I say was the truth, even if I don't know how your boy was involved. »

Francis looked again at the judge, very attentive.

« Charley then revealed to me that the old man was more than that. He was a bookmaker, who specialized in illegal betting. Football, basketball. Base ball. And other sports less legal, as free fighting, animal fighting. Bettors were never bringing money on the site of the battle. They were doing their stakes in the store and the old man transferred to redistribute gains to the winners. Less his commission. So when the police arrived, they had no evidence of illegal betting. It was unclear if the kid was in the handset. But in any case, he had to be aware and know where was the money. He said that it was for more than $ 100,000. We would go halves. Then, we would left Colorado to start a life somewhere else. I agreed. »

Francis senior paused. The room was filled with a few murmurs. Francis Junior did not lose a crumb of the confession of his father. He didn't knew what to think of him. To rob a thief ? It was more in his mentality, indeed. He knew his father, he would never have attacked an innocent man.

« I had put a condition. We would be armed, but weapons would be empty. I was okay to scare the kid, but not more. I made the mistake to let Charley handle weapons. I looked at my gun, it was empty, as agreed. If I knew that his was loaded... We had the face covered with a hood for the cameras. We entered. We have pointed our guns. The poor boy didn't had a chance. He raised his hands and he fired. Once. My god... »

New stop. This time, the husband couldn't hold. He got up and left the room in tears. His wife was shared between the desire to stay and go. She left the room in the end, glancing to senior a black eye full of anger. Senior was aware of the departure of the persons concerned.

« Should I... Should I continue, or wait ? »

The judge hesitated.

« Do as you feel. »

Francis senior nodded.

« I prefer to continue then. I'm sorry for the parents. But I don't know if I will have the courage to go all the way if I stop now. »

The voice of senior was full of regrets. Everyone in the room understood him.

« At the time, I didn't realize. And then I saw the large red spot against the wall. And I heard the sound of the body of the unfortunate fall behind the counter. I turned my head and saw the barrel of his gun pointed at me. I... couldn't believe it. I got lucky. He shot, but the gun jammed. I reacted. I hit him with the butt of my rifle. Strong enough to knock in one shot. I threw my empty weapon and I dashed behind the counter to help the boy. I wanted to make him a heart massage. To kiss of life. But he... »

Francis struggled to swallow his saliva.

« He had no more mouth, your honor... It was horrible. »

Francis was silent a moment. The people in the room had a large thrill in their backs. Junior was no exception to the rule. Francis senior tried to speak again, but he couldn't. Nothing could come out of his mouth.

« I... I can't anymore. I'm sorry, your honor... I can't anymore. »

The judge understood that he couldn't say anything. She grabs her hammer and struck the base gently.

« Let's take a break. The hearing will resume in 30 minutes. »

To the great relief of the public.

The guard passed the handcuffs to Senior. Turning, he saw for the first time his son sitting in the audience. The boy looked at him with a mixture of horror and compassion. Senior was saddened, but he understood.

The boy stood before the mirror in the bathroom. He caught his breath, gently, with his eyes closed. To attend a trial or a member of his family was difficult. But the latest statements of his father were worse still. Francis knew that his father was for nothing. Finally, not directly. But he had participated in it. The boy looked at the trickle of water flowing from the faucet, passing his hand below to wet his face.

After his watch, there wasn't a lot of time before the resumption of the hearing. Francis smiled a little. He had known such a situation shortly before, in a different setting. He was to join his class after recognizing that Greg...

Francis here interrupted the thread of his thoughts. He had nothing to do. In a few moments, he would know how long he would be separated from his father for good. Seen the charges, he risked life in prison. But he pleaded guilty. Probably in exchange for a reduced sentence. Francis cut the faucet, wet face, and went out from the toilet. The sparse public took its place, including the victim's parents. It was not long to Francis to see that their grief was increased tenfold. The boy was thought to go to them. But what good it would do ? He was the son of the aggressor from their dead son. Francis did not knew any word from their share can comfort them. Especially since he felt himself always as close to his father.

It was what was most important to him. His father had helped to a horrible act, but he felt his links be always as important with him. Mark had Greg once said that sometimes, family ties were stronger than anything. They seemed to be right.

Francis had no time to sit that the judge made her entrance, and so took place after that she will be sitting. His father was also again sitting. The judge growled a bit to clear her throat.

« After speaking with the DA and the defense counsel, the Court finds that the defendant has fulfilled the conditions for the application of the agreement for a procedure to plead guilty. These horrible moments are quite challenging for the Court as to the family, and there is no need to add more. Francis Redhorn senior, stand up. »

Francis rose.

« After deliberation, the Court recognized you guilty of the charges brought against you. »

Senior remained impassive. Not surprising.

« The Court has listened to your detailed confession and taken into account the fact that you didn't commit, so far, no crime or offense, the court sentences you to 15 years of imprisonment. You'll serve the sentence at the penitentiary of Stoke city, in our State of Colorado. You will be entitled to apply for parole once you'll have made at least half of the jail time. Do you have to make a last statement ? »

Standing, senior hesitated. He turned to the parents who had their eyes misty with tears.

« I'm sorry. If I could do anything to change things. To bring him back... I'll do it. »

Senior shook his head in denial.

« But I can't do anything. I can tell you that I will not appeal. It's a fair verdict and I will not lay you the pain of a new trial. That's all I can do. »

Francis wanted to continue, but his throat betrayed him again. The look of his keeper was eloquent, it was time for him to return to his cell for a long time.

Letting out a long sigh, Francis closed the door of his house behind him. His house. Now, what was only an idea of the mind was a reality. He took off his jacket and hung it on the wall, then did the same with his shoes. No need to risk a wrath of Ed to keep them at his feet. The house was silent. Ed was on duty at the hospital, Mark had to sleep in the late afternoon before making his night service. Francis ascended the stairs silently to do not disturb him. He opened the door of his room. Greg was sitting at his desk, a pencil in his right hand, the left is unusable since a few days. Francis had no need to wait for his question to answer.

« Fifteen years.

• Well, shit...

• I know. But he faced a life sentence. And he can apply in eight years. »

Francis began to open his shirt, sitting on the bed. At the third button, he gave up. He was crying too. Greg laid his pencil and took his place on his left, his arm around known neck of the boy who was trying to regain control of himself.

« You know the worst part ? It's that I don't care ! I wish he were here. I don't give a damn about the poor boy who was killed. I wish that nothing ever happened !

• Me too, there are times or I would like that everything was as before... That all was only a bad dream. But it is the reality. It must be addressed. You're not alone, it's important, this ! »

Francis agreed. He appreciated the presence of Greg more than anything else. He wiped his eyes with his hand a little, smiled, and kissed him.

« You're not lonely...

• I know. »

The kiss Greg returned was more intense. The two boys stayed so on the bed, the window of the room covering with mist as the rain began to fall.