Contradictions

Life Goes On

On the flight back to San Francisco, Jay and Bob chatted and got better acquainted. Jay invited Bob over to his house to cash in his rain check, but when they arrived at the airport, Jay was surprised to find Dan Hammond waiting to pick him up. Jay introduced Bob to Dan, and Bob told Jay he would hold onto his rain check for another day.

Jay missed Matt and Chico immensely. He did not call Matt because he wanted to give him some space, but Matt called him every day, sometimes twice a day, just to check up on him.

Every day that Matt remained in the hotel waiting for his dorm to open, the cute young waiter who had brought breakfast their first morning came by his room to see if he needed any “special services.” Matt kissed him on the cheek, thanked him, and asked for a rain check. He also learned about Tank’s “Deluxe Package,” and though it sounded very appealing to him, he wanted to savor his experience with Jay for a few more days. Then, on his last evening in the hotel, he asked Tank if he could have that “Deluxe Package” in his room, and he called for room service at the same time. Both Tank and the young waiter enthusiastically made up for lost time.

When Chico arrived at the Baltimore/Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport after his week in New York, he was very surprised to see a man standing at the gate exit with a sign that read “Mr. Santana.” Hmm. Wonder who that could be? He walked past the man only to hear him call out, “Mr. Santana…Chico Santana?”

“Yes, that’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Glenn Walker, and this is Brent Hayward. A friend of yours asked us to meet you and take you to your new apartment.”

“There must be some mistake. I don’t….”

“There’s no mistake, Mr. Santana. If you don’t mind coming with us, we can explain everything on the way.”

“Hell no! I don’t know who you are, and I sure as hell am not getting into a car with two total strangers!”

“Dr. Sherwood said that you were very shrewd and not to be surprised if you gave us a hard time at first.”

“Oh, he did, did he? Well, you can tell DR. SHERWOOD that he can kiss my….”

“Dr. Sherwood has a great deal of admiration for you, Mr. Santana. He said to tell you that he knows he has some explaining to do. Brent and I don’t really know what that’s all about, but we can tell you that you will like the arrangements Dr. Sherwood has made for you. You have luggage, I assume. If you would not mind giving your claim tickets to my associate Jim here, he will pick them up and bring them to your new apartment.”

Chico very cautiously handed over the claim tickets to the third man, Jim with no last name.

Glenn Walker and Brent Hayward led Chico to a silver Volvo C70 convertible. “Do you like this car, Mr. Santana?”

“Well, sure. Who wouldn’t?”

“Would you like to own it?”

“Hell, even with the money that Dr. J…uh, Dr. Sherwood…paid me, there’s no way I could afford a car like this.”

“I believe you know Ed McClelland, don’t you?”

“Yes, he’s Dr. Sherwood’s attorney and a good friend.”

“That’s right. And he’s a good friend of mine. In fact, we went to school together. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Sherwood or his family, but a few years ago, Ed introduced me to Dan Hammond, and Dan, in turn, introduced my mother to Dr. Sherwood’s mother, Diane. Through their financial advice, my mother became a very wealthy woman. I’m sure you’ve heard the tales of a car that was owned by a little old lady who never drove it anywhere except to church on Sundays. Well, this car has been my mother’s for almost a year now, though she did drive it more than just on Sundays, it doesn't really have a lot of miles on it.  When she heard that Diane Sherwood’s son was looking for a good used car, she insisted on giving up hers.”

“I can’t take your mother’s car, Mr. Walker.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Giving up the Volvo will just give her an excuse to make me give her a new Lamborghini from the dealership that I just bought last month.”

Chico’s head was spinning so fast that he did not even see the high-rise apartment building until they pulled up to the front door. A valet took the car keys and handed Mr. Walker a ticket.

They took the elevator up to the top floor, and Brent Hayward, the younger and much more handsome of the two men, opened the door to a luxury apartment overlooking Baltimore Harbor. The hardwood floors were covered in authentic Navajo rugs from Santa Fe. A large plasma-screen TV adorned one wall, and the other walls were decorated with paintings by famous Puerto Rican and Russian artists, reflecting Chico's dual heritage. The furniture was exquisite, and the kitchen was state of the art. The apartment had three bedrooms, each with its own bath, and a separate den/study. The laptop that Chico had used while working for Jay Sherwood sat atop a desk handmade by the Sherwood Custom Furniture Company. A variety of electronic gadgets identical to the ones that Jay had bought Matt lay around the apartment.

“When Glenn had Ed McClelland on the phone,” said Brent, “he called and conferenced me in. Ed asked me to find a nice condominium that Dr. Sherwood could use whenever he’s in Baltimore.”

“I don’t understand,” said Chico. “If this is Dr. J’s condo, why did you bring me here?”

“Well, Dr. Sherwood won’t be spending a lot of time here, and he feels that he needs someone to look after the place in his absence. He could hire a management company, but he said that would be a waste when he can get you for next to nothing.” Chico started to take offense until he saw the grin on Brent’s face. “Please understand. The condominium belongs to Dr. Sherwood, but the contract I have drawn up with the help of Ed McClelland stipulates that you may live here as long as you remain in medical school and that you will be paid a monthly stipend to cover your living expenses.”

The doorbell rang. “Ah, that must be Jim with the luggage. Put them in the master bedroom, Jim. Enjoy the car, Mr. Santana, and drive safely. Brent, can we give you a lift somewhere?”

“Thanks, Glenn, but before I leave I want to go over a few more details with Chico. You don’t mind if I call you Chico, do you?” Judging from the look in Brent’s eyes, Glenn had a pretty good idea what kinds of details he wanted to go over. “Besides, I know that Chico’s just dying to get behind the wheel of that car, so I’m sure he won’t mind dropping me off when we’re done, will you, Chico?”

“No,” smiled Chico. “I’ll be more than happy to give you a ride.” Yeah, and I’ll bet I know what kind of ride that would be!

Glenn laid his business card and the valet ticket on a table by the door. “Drive safely, Mr. Santana, and call me if you ever need anything.”

As soon as Glenn closed the door behind himself, Chico turned to Brent and asked, “Does he really own two car dealerships?”

“Hell, Chico. Glenn Walker owns two dozen dealerships from New York to Miami—nothing but foreign imports—everything from Mercedes to Bugatis. Trust me, his mother will never miss the Volvo.”

“This is all too much,” said Chico. “Jay is a terrific guy, but I only worked for him for one summer. Why would he do all of this for me?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly,” admitted Brent. “All I can say is what he told me over the phone. He said you’re going to be the best damn doctor that Johns Hopkins has ever produced.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Brent Hayward helped Chico christen both his new apartment and his new car.

When Britta and Inga returned to Stockholm University, they were informed by the head of their department that they had received a very substantial grant from an anonymous donor to support their research on the sexual behavior of adolescent girls. They also learned that the next international conference of sex researchers would be hosted by Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore and that arrangements were already being made for their accommodations.

Despite the daily phone calls from Matt and, later, Chico, Jay became more and more depressed. Dan Hammond and Ed McClelland both stopped by regularly to check up on him, and even Mack Macintosh, Bill’s father, came to visit. He told Jay that his oldest daughter, Bill’s sister, had given birth to a son and named him William. Jay thanked Mack for dropping by and made a note to have Dan Hammond set up an educational trust fund for the kid and any future little Macintoshes. Mrs. Donovan, Matt’s mom, invited Jay over to dinner often, but he always declined, so she sent dishes of homemade food just to make sure that he ate properly. Most of his meals, though, were 90 proof.

The fall semester started at Stanford, and he often missed his classes. When he did show up, he was unkempt, and his lectures were lifeless. Colleagues began to wonder what had happened to “the boy genius.”

He brought a different partner to bed nearly every night—sometimes women, sometimes men, and sometimes both—but there was no passion. Most times, he lay on the bed cold as they tried to arouse him, often unsuccessfully. He really wanted to be held more than anything else, but even that was never enough.

“Jay, you’ve got to snap out of this!” demanded Dan Hammond. “You’re falling apart. Let me take you to the doctor, get you some medication or something.” But Jay refused. “Hire yourself another assistant, Jay. You can find another Chico.” But the mere mention of Chico’s name pulled Jay down further into the abyss.

About a week before Thanksgiving, Jay lay in his bed with another beautiful anonymous woman when the door bell rang. It rang and rang and rang. “Aren’t you gonna get that?”

“Nah, whoever it is will get tired of pushing the damn button pretty soon and go away.” But the bell continued to ring and ring and ring.

“Well, it doesn’t look like they’re going away. If you won’t go see who it is, I guess I’ll have to. Don’t get up,” she added sarcastically as she hurriedly threw on her clothes. “I’ll see myself out.” The hot babe sulked her way downstairs to the front door, and the eyes of the young man there bulged wide at the sight of her half-dressed body.

“I…I’m sorry. Maybe I have the wrong address. I was looking for Jay Sherwood.”

“Yeah, this is his place.”

“Well, is he at home?”

“That’s a matter of opinion, honey. Maybe you’ll have better luck with him than I did. Upstairs. End of the hall. End of the line.”

“Jay. Jay, are you here?”

In his funk, Jay barely heard the man call his name.

“Jay?” As the voice came closer, it sounded vaguely familiar.

Lying with his back to the doorway, Jay did not see the man standing there. “Jay, are you all right, man?”

“Goddam it!” yelled Jay in exasperation. He grabbed the Tiffany lamp from his night stand and hurled it as he rolled over, sending it crashing into a thousand pieces against the door jamb. “Why can’t everyone just leave me the fuck alone!”

“Jay, it’s me!”

With his fury released, Jay’s eyes sharpened, and the face of the man in the doorway haphazardly came into focus.

In Chapter 20, the final episode, the stranger in the doorway reveals himself.