Page 88 of Surge


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I thought about how popular I’d been throughout my school years. All the friends I’d made. The sleepovers and road trips and parties I’d been invited to. Would that have all happened if I’d been dragged to the slammer every weekend for visitation? Would people have looked at me differently? They sure as hell would have.

I knew it hadn’t been an easy decision. Thing was, it still didn’t feel like what I would have done. “But at some point, you got out and started this charity work. Why didn’t you find us then? Or me then?”

“Damn, it took me twenty years to turn it all around, Drake. I should have. I should have tried to find you. But after all the years that had passed…” His gaze lowered to the table. “I don’t know. The only thing I can say is that I should have. I wish I had. I really, really wish I had. Especially now.”

Our eyes met again.

Especially now.

Myles rubbed his hands together, making the dry sound of sandpaper. He started to say something then stopped himself. Started again. Stopped. He leaned forward ever so slightly in his chair. It shifted back a couple of inches, the noise disturbing.

Finally, he let out a puff of air. “Drake, we probably both know it’s too late for me to be your dad. But I can be your friend. And what I’ve learned about friendship is it can actually go one way and sometimes be as fulfilling even when only one person cares. I don’t expect you to get much from meeting me, not the way I feel like a bigger man now that I’ve seen you. Now that you’re more than words. More than brain waves of memory and hopes and dreams.”

He shifted again, leaned forward onto the table onto his elbows. “Maeve and your mom came to me with one goal in mind. It wasn’t to reunite us and give you something you’ve survived without. It was to give you something you can’t survive without. This is about my redemption. And not just for you. For a whole community potentially.”

I’d been following up till now. “You lost me a little bit, Myles. I got the part where I don’t have to accept your friendship, but now…?”

“I’m getting tested. I looked into this and know it’s like a one in a hundred chance I’ll match enough to help you out. I’m too old to be on the registry. But something Maeve said, about there being very few multiracial donors and so forth?” He hung his head, shook it as if a heavy ghost from the past had just entered his ears and plagued him. Another shake and it was gone.

His determined eyes met mine again. “I have hurt a lot of people. I sold drugs to children. To parents of children who went off the rails, got HIV or died by some other means. Though I never killed a man with my own hands, I’m sure more than a few died because of me. Yeah, I’m more than hopeful to help you for my redemption but I also started a campaign to get more black and multiracial donors to get on the registry. Maybe I can be part of something that gives life. You’re part of something that gives life. Because this all started with you.”

I was speechless. Never in a million years could I have imagined this conversation would have contained any more than the words “I’m sorry.” What Myles was telling me was epic. It could be game changing for more than just me. It could be game changing for an entire community.

“In the past couple days, I put together email blasts to our list. I’ve contacted several other charities throughout California to do the same, and we already have over a hundred people, hold up, more specifically, non-white people, committed to being on the bone marrow registry. I don’t know if the numbers work this way, but if I was your one percent chance, and so far we have over a hundred others?” He shrugged. “Well, the numbers are starting to look more hopeful. For you. And for all the other Drakes out there.”

I didn’t think I’d ever heard such an epic war speech. Not by Braveheart. Not in Independence Day. Not 300, Any Given Sunday… I didn’t think even I’d ever been stirred and pumped as much as I was hearing Myles’ plan. Sure, more epic things were happening in the world. But not to me. The fact that Myles was doing more than just get tested for me brought about an indescribable admiration.

He didn’t feel like my dad. But in this moment, I wanted to claim him as mine. For now, we could settle on something else. “Myles, you’re right that friendship can be extended one way only.” I put my hand out for him to shake. “But let’s try to do it the best way. Friends?”

His eyes glassed over, and before he took my hand he rubbed them, maybe hoping to tame the tears that might escape them. I’d never seen an old man cry before, but even just being on the cusp of it was enough to form a lump in my throat.

He managed to shake it off and took my hand in both of his. “God bless, Drake. God bless.”

“I guess my grandma was right about you after all. You may not have been a good man then. But you are now. And now is all that’s real anyway.”

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