Chapter 13 - THE SURGERYDavid finally visited hospital archive.
Not because legal need.
He wanted facts.
Records confirmed.
Condition serious but not necessarily immediate death if delayed? Important nuance.
Surgery recommended within weeks.
Family could potentially seek charitable assistance, but 1958 systems slower, unclear.
Leon believed deadline catastrophic.
Fear narrowed options.
David read.
His father may have had alternatives.
Maybe not understood.
That hurt.
Because “I had no choice” weakened.
There were choices.
Difficult.
Humiliating.
Uncertain.
Leon chose illegal cash.
Samuel told.
Dorsey targeted vulnerable players.
He knew medical bills.
Predatory.
Leon both victim of exploitation and participant.
Again.
David asked retired medical historian whether $2,500 could have come through charity.
Maybe religious funds, payment plan.
No guarantees.
Thus no certainty.
Harold said:
“That’s why I hate people saying Leon did what any father would.”
David looked.
“You don’t think?”
“I think many fathers might.”
“That’s different?”
“Yes. Understandable is not inevitable.”
David nodded.
He had been turning father into victim of impossible circumstance.
But moral agency remained.
Miles wrote notes for historical plaque webpage.
Harold vetoed too much personal.
“Not documentary.”
Miles said:
“People should know.”
“Which people?”
“Everyone.”
“Why?”
Miles stopped.
Harold continued:
“Truth doesn’t mean public ownership.”
Good.
David’s medical history private.
Leon’s misconduct can be stated without cause.
Miles learned boundary.
A QR code at court eventually linked short history approved by family.
No sensational.
Meanwhile Jordan became obsessed with archive and considered sports journalism.
Miles joked:
“You found career.”
Jordan said:
“Maybe.”
Tyler less invested but helped clinic.
Friendships evolved.
Miles apologized to Harold for original mocking publicly? Harold said no social post.
He did tell kids:
“First time I met Coach Benson I called him useless.”
Kids laughed.
Harold from bench:
“You still talk too much.”
Miles smiled.
Lesson could be shared without idolizing.
One child asked Harold:
“You really ninety?”
“Yes.”
“Can you dunk?”
“No.”
“Could you ever?”
Harold laughed.
“No.”
Kids shocked.
Miles said:
“See? Still good.”
Harold:
“Some abilities have nothing to do with dunking.”
This echoes age.
Then Miles’s father brought Leon’s old jersey to court.
Number 7.
He asked Harold:
“Want it?”
Harold touched fabric.
“No.”
“Why?”
“It’s yours.”
David:
“I don’t know if I want.”
Harold looked.
“Keep until know.”
No forced disposal.
David did.
He began telling family truth.
Miles’s mother, Denise, was shocked.
She had heard Harold villain story too.
She asked David:
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Good.”
They laughed.
She helped.
Family narrative changed.
At dinner, David told younger daughter Rachel? Wait Miles maybe sibling. New names should be unique. We can create younger sister "Claire Carter," 19. But outline didn't. Not necessary. Keep immediate.
David caught himself saying:
“Your grandfather was a good man who made bad decision.”
That sentence felt more honest.
Miles asked:
“Why couldn’t we say before?”
David:
“Because I thought good people weren’t allowed.”
Harold’s influence.
One afternoon Harold missed court.
Then next.
Miles worried.
At ninety, absence means fear.
He called Samuel.
Hospital? No.
Harold home with respiratory infection.
Miles visited.
Harold annoyed.
“You all act like I’m dying every cough.”
“You’re ninety.”
Harold glared.
Miles smiled.
“Never measure someone by age?”
Harold almost laughed.
But illness reminded.
Time limited.
Miles felt urgency to finish plaque.
Harold sensed.
“Stop racing.”
“What if—”
“If I die before plaque?”
Miles froze.
Harold continued:
“Then plaque still true.”
“But you should see.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t care?”
“I care. Not enough to panic.”
Miles sat.
Harold looked at him.
“Young people think completion is proof.”
“What do old people think?”
Harold smiled.
“Nothing finishes.”
Miles rolled eyes.
“Cryptic old man.”
“Get out.”
As Miles left, Harold called.
“Miles.”
He turned.
Harold held old ball photograph.
“Bring David next time.”
“Why?”
“Something I need give.”
“What?”
Harold looked at photograph of Leon and himself.
May you like
“Something Leon should have had back.”
Another buried piece.
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