			SOPHIA'S DILEMMA (Chapter 74)

"I don't know how much longer I can do this."

Sophia had requested a meeting with Mary. It was almost three weeks after Warren had come home, about a month after the attack, and he wasn't getting any better.

"He's not getting better?" Mary asked.

"He's completely withdrawn. He goes to class, and he studies, and that's it--and keeping up with his schoolwork is almost on autopilot for him. Outside of that, he just sits in the bed. He won't touch me, he won't let me touch him. His roommate moved out so that I could be with him and we sleep in separate beds. He won't skate. He shows no emotion about anything. I take messages for him, support from our skating friends, people that want to help--and he ignores them. I tell him I love him and I get nothing."

"OK, first of all, Sophia, I have to ask you. Have you had any of your panic attacks?"

She laughed humorlessly. "Every single fucking day. Sometimes it takes all my strength of will to keep from running out of that room forever. I feel like my life is on hold. I know he's been through hell. That's why I stay. I just don't know how much longer I can stand to look into the eyes of the shell of a man I used to love and still keep coming back for more."

"You've tried to get him to see somebody? Me, anybody?"

"Of course. No dice."

"OK. You want to help him?"

"More than anything."

"OK. First of all, I need to tell you that your strength impresses me. You're doing a fabulous job on yourself, and it is showing, and you need to know that."

"Thanks. It's nice to here. Our friend Alexa said the same thing."

"It's true. However, you have to get stronger. You have to do something that you will find very difficult. To truly help him--you have to stop helping him."

"Huh?"

"You have to step back. Stop taking his messages--make him answer the phone. Stop coddling him. Make him know how difficult this is for you. Make him deal with the world, stop doing it for him. I understand why you have been, but the best thing for you to do now is stop. Force him to deal with things."

"Why?"

"Because he's avoiding anything emotional, and he can't continue to do this. He goes to class and studies, but that's because that's purely intellectual--like you said, he's on autopilot as far as that goes. But he's avoiding skating, because that is an emotional experience. He's avoiding any closeness with you for the same reason. His friends, his skating friends, going out and enjoying a movie--all of it. He's trying to shut down emotionally so he won't feel the pain. I don't think I have to tell you how unhealthy that is."

"No, you don't."

"I'm warning you, Sophia, this will not be easy. You might have to goad him. Get him mad, get him unhappy, get him amorous, but you probably will have to force the issue. And, when it all comes out, it is not going to be pretty. I'm warning you. But if you want even the possibility of getting the old Warren back, it's the only way. He has to deal with the pain--and he has to deal with something he is completely repressing, the anger. He must be very angry, but he's not allowing himself to deal with it. It may come out at you."

Sophia sighed. "I can take that. I can deal with that. Anything to get him out of this."

"And you need to keep on him to see me, or somebody. You're not a professional, Sophie. You can only do so much."

"I know. But I've got to do something. And I have you as an adviser!"

-------------------------------------------

She was in his room that night. The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

"Sophia?" Warren asked.

"It's your phone, you answer it. What am I, your secretary?" Sophia spat out, feeling horrible.

Warren just looked at her in disbelief, then answered the phone. Sophia could only hear one half of the conversation. 

"Hello? Hi Christine. No, I'm OK. I'm healing. Yeah, they caught the guys. No, I'm fine. Well, I don't think we're going to make it to Worlds, I'm still pretty beat up. Yeah, we'll see. Yeah, I love you too, skate babe. Talk to you later." He hung up the phone. "That was Christine Arsenault. How did she get my number?"

"I gave it to her," Sophia told him.

"What? Why?"

"Because she wanted to talk to you."

"Well, I didn't want to talk to her. That was difficult."

"She wanted to talk to you. You don't want to talk to her, you tell her. Explain to her why you're hiding from all your friends. Oh, by the way, I also gave your number to Jack, Evan, Shawna, Andrea, and Liz. They all want to talk to you, and I'm not taking your phone calls anymore."

Warren just looked at her in disbelief, then shook his head and went back to his studying.

A couple hours later, Sophia got up and turned on the TV.

"Whatcha doing, Soph?" Warren asked.

"Something I want to watch," she replied simply.

It was one of those newsmagazine shows. The announcer intoned. "A beating in Wisconsin. A popular figure skater badly hurt, and a controversial preacher in the firestorm. Tonight, on NewsWatch."

"Soph, why are we watching this?"

"It should be good. Evan, Jack, and Liz are going to be on."

They watched the beginning, as the announcer, Rick Morris, talked about the basis of the story. He told about the beating, and showed pictures of Warren before and after. Sophia cringed, and looked at Warren--who was cringing, too. They showed the four thugs, and then Adam Watson. They talked about the firestorm around Watson, and about how revelations about the beating and rape of Warren had turned a lot of his former supporters against him.

"We contacted Reverend Watson, but he refused to appear on this program. However, we do have three of the leading lights of the figure skating world here with us to talk about how this attack has affected the skating community, and about Warren Kelleher, whom they all know. Please welcome world champion Elizabeth Cushman, national champion John Garrison, and national medallist ice dancer Evan Pogdar. Welcome." The camera showed the three, sitting side-by-side. "First off, how has this attack affected the skating community?"

"Not well," Jack said. "There's a fear around. Let's face it, Warren got attacked for what he does for a living. It doesn't make me comfortable, I can tell you that."

"Absolutely," Evan added. "For those that don't know, I am gay, and I'm out of the closet about it, and, yeah, I feel like a target. If they could do this to Warren, who isn't gay, just because he's a skater, what would they have done to me? I've never enjoyed hiding in closets, but, yeah, I'm scared."

"You can feel it in the rink," Liz added. "There's a tense atmosphere. We all feel it."

"Are figure skaters friends with each other? How has this affected that?" Rick asked them.

"Some are, some aren't," Evan said. "Strangely, I think it's brought the community closer. I got a call from Steve Coleman, who is half of the national champion ice dance team. In other words, he's a competitor, and Shawna and I and Warren and Sophia are the ones nipping at he and Sharon's heels. But he called me, offering support, asking if I needed anything, and I know he and Sharon drove to Wisconsin to visit with Warren. There's been a lot of that. Even from overseas, the European skaters. I know a lot of them have been in touch with Warren, and with others of us, offering support. That's been the one good thing to come out of this."

"One thing you have to understand," Liz told Rick, "is that the two people with the most friendships in the skating community are Warren and Sophia. Everybody likes them, even their competitors."

"True," added Evan. "We've been battling it out on the ice for three years now, but Shawna and I both consider Warren and Sophia close friends. They're almost impossible to dislike."

"I was friends with Warren on the internet long before I met him, as was Jack," Liz pointed out. "I think part of the horror is that this happened to him. I can't imagine anyone disliking Warren. That makes it worse. They beat the crap out of one of the nicest guys I know. America should know that, and those supporters of that preacher should know that. This was one of the good guys, folks."

"Jack, you're not gay, are you?"

"If I am, my wife is in for a rude awakening!" Everyone chuckled at that. "No, I'm hetero."

"In fact, there have been some accusations leveled at you about being homophobic, haven't there?"

"Yeah," Jack sighed. "I don't know if I ever was. Aggressive about pointing out my heterosexuality, would be more accurate. Look, the whole 'you figure skate, you must be gay' thing gets tiring after a while. I got overly aggressive at trying to fend that off, I suppose. I guess what happened to Warren has shown me how futile that is. I can't fight the stereotype. I'm married, my wife is pregnant, but people are going to believe what they want to believe. Everybody in the skating community has known that Warren is straight. But it didn't seem to matter. And, after Warren got beat up, the whole revulsion at the stereotype came roaring back at me. Then I thought, if Warren was gay, would this be any, I don't know, more acceptable? And then I thought, would it be any more acceptable if it had happened to Evan, who's a friend of mine? No, it wouldn't. The problem isn't the figure skater equals gay stereotype. The problem is hate. Just took me a while to realize that."

"Warren never had a problem with the stereotype," Liz said.

"Yeah, and he's the one that gets beat up over it," Jack sighed. "Although I have found from experience that it is an easier stereotype to deal with when you've found the love of your life already. People thinking I'm gay cost me dates when I was younger." Everybody laughed at that, even Evan. "Warren never had to worry about that," Jack continued with a smile. "He's been with Sophia since he was barely old enough to shave."

"Sophia is his partner?" Rick asked.

"His partner, and his girlfriend, and I expect to be invited to a wedding at some time in the future," Evan said with a chuckle. "And everybody in skating knows it. They are a couple, completely, in every sense of the word. Which makes the whole thing even more nonsensical. Those goons, and that preacher that fanned the flames, have obviously never seen them skate. There's no secret how they feel about one another, and nobody is that good an actor. Shawna and I talk about it all the time, like 'how can we compete with that?'" Everyone laughed at that.

"I was friends with Warren on the internet when he met Sophia," Liz added. "They have been through a lot together, and they're still together. It's inspiring, actually," she smiled. "I just hope they can get through this. Warren, Sophia, if you guys are watching, we love you, OK? Get better, Warren!"

"Damn straight," said Jack. "I wanna see you guys at Worlds."

"Heck, I even want to see them at Worlds, even though we only get to skate there if they can't," Evan quipped to laughter. "We don't want to make it on a World team this way. Warren, Sophia, I hope you guys can skate. And get three spots for next year so I can go to the damn Olympics!" Everyone cracked up at that.

Sophia looked at Warren watching this on the TV. He looked impassive--until Sophia noticed him surreptitiously wiping his eyes. 

The show ended, and a few minutes went by. Sophia heard Warren say, very quietly, "I suppose if one of those guys calls to say hi, it would be OK."

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The next night Sophia upped the ante. She walked into Warren's room with a videotape.

"What's that?"

"Oh, something I wanted to review." She popped it in. It was their performances at Nationals, all of them. The compulsories were first.

"Why are we watching this?" Warren complained.

"I want to see a few things. I want to see what we need to tighten up before Worlds. And I want to see what went wrong in the Golden Waltz, so we don't do that again in San Jose."

"I don't know what you're talking about. We're not going to Worlds."

"Yes we are. Now, shut up." He looked at her dumbfounded. She grabbed the remote, and sat next to him in his bed. "Move over, Snugglebear. Now, watch."

"I can't watch this. I don't want to watch this."

"I thought I told you to shut up." Sophia said, cringing inwardly as she did. Warren looked at her in surprise. "You'll get off your ass, and damn quick, or I'm going to go to San Jose and skate with Evan Pogdar."

"You wouldn't!"

"You think I'm going to sit here forever waiting for you to get a grip on yourself?" She cursed inwardly. Mary, she thought, you'd better be right about this. "Now, shut up and watch."

The tape started. The Tango Romantica compulsory was first. "Nothing at all wrong with that. You always could tango up a storm, sweetie," Sophia said. Warren even cracked a bit of a smile. She grabbed his arm. He didn't flinch.

"Now for the waltz." They watched, and got to the point where they went down. Sophia rewound over the spot a few times and rewatched it. "Well, Snugglebear, I think it's apparent that the mistake was all my fault."

"Ah, you slipped off an edge." 

Good! She was getting him engaged in this. "Yeah, but it was my mistake. You were spot-on."

"Yeah, but it's an easy mistake to fix," he told her. 

"I agree," she said, smiling to herself. "Now, the OD." They watched the program.

"Shit," said Warren, halfway through. "We were on fire."

"Damn straight. Mired in fifth place, our backs against the wall, that's when we're at our best. We're fighters, we always have been." Please, please, please, pick up the hint, Warren, she thought.

"Hmmm," was all he said.

"Well, nothing to critique about that program," Sophia said. "For something we threw together in a month, it was damn good, wasn't it?"

Warren actually laughed. "That it was."

The Sinatra free dance was next. "There's a few glitches here," Warren said.

"True. Not too many. But I see a few."

"Overall, it was good, though," Warren said.

It ended. The exhibition, "Kiss me Baby," came on next. 

Sophia watched it, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Warren. He wasn't saying anything. He was just staring at the screen. The program unfolded on the TV screen. She was still holding his arm, and she felt him squeeze it a little tighter. The program ended, and the tape ran out. She looked at him. There was definitely a tear in his eye.

"You ok, sweetie?"

"Yeah." He wiped his eyes quickly. "Would you mind if I said I'd like to be alone for a little while?"

"Not at all," she lied. "I need to go to my room for a while, anyway."

"OK. I'll see you tomorrow, OK?"

Well, there was a dismissal. He didn't even want her there tonight. "OK, Warren," was all she said.

When she got back to her room, she called Mary, arranging to meet her the next day.





 

