The next morning, Kid was setting up the barbells on the terrace. From the living room, Jack watched him for several long minutes, then shook his head and stepped outside. Kid looked up but avoided making eye contact, said nothing, went back to his weights. Jack allowed him his petulant silence, began his warm-up routine: stretching, crunches, ten minutes on the stationary bike.
Finally, as the ten minutes were almost up, Jack took a deep breath and said, "Well, I'm glad to see you take rejection as well as ever." Kid didn't respond, so Jack continued: "And at least you keep your temper under control."
Kid threw his hands up in the air, turned to face Jack. "I'm sorry. Christ, I'm so unbelievably sorry…"
The red "10 minutes" flashed on the bike's panel and Jack slowly let the pedals spin to a halt. "Listen, asshole. Yesterday I said there were two reasons why the gym might not be a great idea and you clearly weren't paying attention to the second one: you can do better than that. A lot better."
"Doing what?"
"I'm hooked up with a giant company. They might not want my opinion on Jack's menus but I can get you in their management training program. I've been giving this a lot of thought, so listen to me for just a minute. Try not to fly off the handle and try not to say anything stupid, which I know won't be easy. Six months ago, hell, six weeks ago, I would have said I was out of the business for good. But I'm feeling so much better, thanks to you, and I've been thinking that when my contract's up – I have a three-year no-compete clause – I might want to start something. Something new and exciting. I don't know exactly what, but… start over in a way. And you can come with me."
Now Kid made eye contact. When he spoke, his voice was hushed, as if he didn't want to put a jinx on what he was hearing in case it might not come true. "As what?"
"In the beginning, an overpaid schmuck. Eventually, my partner."
"You and me?"
Jack nodded, enjoying Kid's stunned tone. "It's what we talked about a long time ago, before you flew the coop. What goes around comes around, I guess. One thing I know," Jack said, "is that I'm better with a partner. The best partner I ever had is dead; that's the reality I have to face, and I'm starting to face it. So as near as I can tell, that leaves you. If you're interested. You were five years ago. I hope you are now."
"Jack… what do I know about restaurants?"
"You'll learn."
Kid said nothing for a long time. Then: "I want you to do me a favor."
"Christ," Jack said, "haven't I done enough for you?"
"No." Kid tore over to the weight rack, furiously loaded up the barbell with heavy weights. Jack stared, bewildered. In a controlled frenzy, Kid jerked the bar up and hoisted it above his head. It weighed over two hundred pounds but in his fury, Kid was holding it as if it were made of feathers. "See this?" he said, biting off the words. "You're gonna do this. But only if you start now. The only thing holding you back is fear. And I'm telling you, you're strong enough to get rid of the fear. You're strong enough now. Right now."
"I'll hurt myself. It's too soon. I don't think I can go through that again."
"You won't. You're just afraid."
"Yes," Jack said.
"Fear is your lover, Jack. Stick your tongue down her throat! Grab her!"
Jack hesitated. Then he said, "What do you want me to do?"
"Take off your back brace."
Slowly, Jack removed the heavy brace. He felt both free and afraid the moment he set it down on the ground.
"Take the brace off your knee, too."
"Kid…"
"You don't need it. I swear."
Jack unwrapped the knee brace. For a moment, as he paced, getting used to the feeling, he felt so light and springy it was as if gravity had stopped holding him down to this earth.
Kid now put the barbell down. He removed some of the weights at each end. Not many but some. "Don't ask how heavy it is, Jack. It doesn't matter. But it's heavy, okay? It's not easy. This is big-time stuff now."
Jack walked over to the barbell, stood over it.
"I want you to give me an upright row." Kid spoke quietly now. Soothingly. "That's all. You're not doing a clean. You don't have to lift it above your head. Just bend down, grip it like this, use your legs, and lift the bar to your waist. Give me ten reps – no – just give me five. That'll be plenty. Even three. I don't care how many you do."
Jack didn't move. He looked down at the barbell. He felt his back start to tense and spasm. Felt the ache in his knee and his hip. He began to sweat…
"You are fucking Arnold," Kid said. "You are Hercules Unchained."
Jack took a deep breath, bent down, and grabbed the weight.
"All you have to do is say when it hurts, Jack. If it hurts, you can stop."
Jack nodded. He got a good grip. He closed his eyes, steeled his legs, pushed up, lifted…
He felt the resistance of the weight, was stunned at how heavy it was; for a moment he was out of control, thought he might topple over. Then he was standing. His arms up by his waist. His hands wrapped around the metal bar.
He opened his eyes, looked at Kid, who had a loopy grin on his face. Jack was fairly sure he had the same grin.
"Fear is your lover," Jack said in mock disgust. "Stick your tongue down her throat… where the hell did you come up with that one?"
"Hey, it worked, didn't it?"
"Yeah, it worked." Jack could hear the amazement in his own voice. He could feel the overwhelming relief and the release of the fear that had gripped him for the past thirteen months. "You took away my pain." '
"No, Jack. You took away your pain."
Jack did his five reps. No pain. None. None whatsoever. It was exhilarating. As if he were drunk, drunk for the very first time. More than that, really. He felt separate from the world, for just these few moments, hovering above, free of all restraints. When he reached his limit he glanced at Kid, who knew him well, read his mind, shook his head and said, "No. Just five. Let's not push it."
Jack crouched, eased the bar down to the terrace floor. Then stood up again. He waited, still expecting it to come, but it didn't. No pain.
He turned to Kid, still not fully believing, still not accepting that it was over.
"What do you say, Jack? You want to celebrate tonight? I'll take you out. I'll know what I need to know by then, all the stuff I've been hinting at, and I'll tell you everything."
"Knicks play-off tonight," Jack said, his entire face bright and alive and unable to stop smiling. "Come with me. I was supposed to take Dom, but he'll understand. He just goes for the beer anyway. Seventh game against Indiana. I'll meet you at the Garden at seven. Game's at seven-thirty."
"I've got a six o'clock client."
"You can still get there by tip-off. I'll give you the ticket now." He waited. "We can celebrate afterward," he said. "You can tell me all about the new Destination. And the mysterious secrets you're going to learn tonight. And we can talk about the future."
"Okay, I'll be there," Kid told him. "I'll be there by tip-off."
"Good," Jack said. "I'm glad." He stepped forward and they shook hands. Their grips held for a long time, firmly, warmly.
"And now give me five more reps," Kid said, pointing to the barbell. And as Jack scowled, he added: "Sorry, partner, but you've got two more sets to go."