Manifest Destiny Stories/ The Last Hurrah
May 30, 2016 8:22:23 GMT -5
Eira and The Anarchist like this
Post by "The Fabulous One" Dan Fierce on May 30, 2016 8:22:23 GMT -5
(Author's note: I'm posting the story portion of my Manifest Destiny RP's so that I may continue the storyline. I was really beginning to get into this arc when I got eliminated, so I don't want it to go to waste.)
Dan sat in the group meeting room of the dojo his adopted father left to him. In his lap were a dozen or so dossiers of several teens and pre-teens that were scheduled to arrive soon. Through the years since taking over the facets of the Fierce Martial Arts Dojo, he's had several of these encounters. It was part of the legacy the man who adopted him when he was fourteen would instill on him, and one he would continue until his dying day.
He thumbed through the files once more, doing his best to put names to faces and at least remember a few of the details that brought them all to the program he offered; free martial arts training to troubled youth and runaways. Had any of the kids been regular attendees at their schools, they'd likely belong to a diverse grouping of cliques. They were all mostly intelligent, with a variety of hairstyles and fashion sense, and as was usually the case with groups previous, some of them were at least questioning their sexuality, according to their records. Some of them even had piercings and tattoos at their young ages, most likely done by shady tattoo artists or during various incarcerations in juvenile detention facilities.
None of that mattered to Dan. All that was important to him was connecting to them. He knew all too well exactly what some of them were going through, even if they didn't believe him. He stopped his briefing at a young boy. He could tell that the streets had been especially hard on this poor kid. Under the rugged exterior, he was an overall good looking sandy blonde haired kid. His name was Jerry.
Dan immediately felt his heart sink as he read the bio. It was all hitting very close to home for him. At thirteen years old, the boy had been essentially homeless for two years. Despite efforts by the authorities to place him in a foster home, either he never stuck around to give it a chance, or something else went wrong. Like many of the habitual runaways, he'd gotten hooked on drugs, usually crack. Dan wanted to help this one especially. He could tell just by what he read that this kid was likely close to rock bottom.
Finally, the knock he was expecting came before the door swung wide. "Mr. Fierce?" The group councilor, a rotund man with a ring of salt and pepper hair crowning his bespectacled face peeked in. "May we come in?"
Dan smiled, holding up a finger, closing the file and stashing all of them away to prevent discomfort. He insisted that there was always a councilor or foster parent present to prevent the more dastardly-minded kiddos from trying to pull anything. The sessions were always recorded as well to prevent misdeeds. Finally, he walked to the front of his desk. "Come on in, Henry. Let's meet this year's crop." Dan walked closer to the door the greet the kids as they entered.
The councilor strode in, followed by a rather tall, lanky girl decked out in punk rock-esque gear, complete with a wilted blue mohawk. Dan recalled her name to be Lisa, but she preferred the name Jade. Dan offered a handshake, but she just popped her gum and rolled her eyes as she walked past to nest in the farthest corner of the room. He learned not to take it personally. A lot of these kids would be as aloof as alley cats, at least at the start.
Next came Jerry, who tried his best to mimic Jade's attitude, even though she was three years his senior and every bit a good foot taller. Dan could see the possibility of a little crush going on there, or at least some level of infatuation. Still, he smiled at the boy, getting a gnarled grimace in return for his efforts.
The rest of the kids filed in, each with their own personalities showing. Some were genuinely pleasing and thankful, others did their absolute best to blend in with the wall as soon as they entered. Some accepted Dan's hello, while others joined in the on the snubbing.
Dan leaned on his mahogany desk, allowing the group to find something resembling comfort in an otherwise very anxious meeting. "Before we do introductions, let me tell you a little about our program."
Dan explained what he would be offering them, with mostly feigned disinterest from the peanut gallery. He then went into what would be expected from them if they decided to carry through with their training.
"Why should we care?" Jade snarled. "Better yet, why should YOU care?"
Dan's smile wilted away, the salesman in him taking a temporary emotional hiatus to get serious for a few moments. "Because Jade," he began, "I was exactly where a few of you are when I was your age." That revelation stopped the girl's line of questioning. Dan could tell that he finally had their attention, even if they weren't confident enough to look him in the eyes yet.
He decided to ease the tension a bit with his sense of humor. "I doubt it's a secret that I'm a bit more... Fabulous... than most of the people you kids have met." Just as he'd hoped it garnered a few chuckles, or at least a reaction from most of them.
A long blonde-haired girl sitting Indian style in the front tilted her head in confusion. She couldn't have been more than eleven years old. Her baby blue eyes twinkled in spite of her rough history and current emotions. "I don't get it."
"He means he's a fa..." Jade started.
"Fabulous..." Dan admonished the little upstart before she could finish THAT word. He doubted he would ever have kids of his own without some serious scientific breakthroughs or a medical miracle, but he still managed to master the "dad" stare when one of his charges tried to step out of line. Seeing the look he gave her, Jade quieted down without a second warning. "...means I don't quite fit into the mould society wants me to, Sarah."
The little girl pondered the new "fact" she was presented, then chimed in matter-of-factly, "Then I'm fabulous too."
The entire room roared with laughter, save for Dan, who bent down, cupping her chin in his hand. "You certainly are, Sarah. You're not my kind of fabulous. You are your own kind of beautiful." Dan straightened up after seeing the joyful gleam in her eyes. "You all have something you can offer the world. You just need to want it bad enough. You are all worth my time, if I'm worth yours. I can't make you go through with this program. You have to want it for yourself."
He paused, slipping into his pseudo-drill sergeant routine. "You won't like me sometimes."
"Even more than right now?"
"Yes, Jade," he glowered. "This wasn't an easy road for me, and it damned sure won't be an easy one for any of you, but I promise it will be worth it." Dan approached Jade, standing directly in front of her. "Until you can believe in yourselves," he looked her directly in the eyes with authority. "I'll have to do the believing for all of us. I'm good at that."
"I call bullshit," chided Jade to the snickering shock of the rest of the kids. "You don't know what we're going through." Dan could tell she threw up a defense wall to further fortify herself from something she neither wanted nor thought she deserved. "You damned sure don't know what we've been through."
Dan knew exactly where this was going. He's seen a variation of Jade in nearly every group of kids who walked through his dojo door. He smiled softly, holding up a finger as he reached behind him for his own file, thicker than three of Jade's dossiers by the time he was even Jerry's age. He politely handed it to her with a welcoming flourish, inviting her to read it.
Her brow furrowed as she pretended to thumb through it, looking mostly at the pictures. "What is all of this?"
"I've read all of your files," answered Dan. "I think it's only fair that you should have the same opportunity. What you hold in your hands was my file from when I was younger than you. Juvenile criminal record, adoption papers, a few embarrassing mug shots, oh, and some articles that took place after I turned my life around."
Jade closed it, even as the other kids gathered around her, their curiosity piqued. "Can you just give us the cliff notes version?"
Dan narrowed his eyes, examining the girl's expression. He'd seen this before too. "She may not be able to read," he thought to himself. "But she's gotta play the cool card to keep people from figuring out her weakness."
"Tell you what, sweetie. I'll do better than that. I'll bore you with the details." Dan noticed that even a few of the more aloof potential students decided to give him their attention. That was a fairly unexpected reaction. He usually got groans and eye rolls. Only Jade and Jerry didn't disappoint in that aspect.
Dan pulled out the adoption paper, turning it towards his audience and pointing towards the section that spoke of his origin. "I was born to Reverend John Martinez and his wife Martha. I have a brother that's two years younger than me, and we lived in Kansas City, Missouri.
"One night, when I was twelve, I had a friend over to spend the night. He and I pitched a tent in the back yard. My little brother caught us doing things that adults do together."
Sarah, the blonde haired girl who still had an air of innocence to her, appeared befuddled. "You guys played video games together?"
While Dan and the rest of the class chuckled, Jade shook her head. "No, stupid. They were having sex."
Dan turned a few shades of red, both from mortification and an honest bit of anger towards the upstart of a teen girl. "Well, I was trying to be a little less blunt, but yes." The giggles immediately ceased as Dan shot Jade a warning look. "Jade, honey, let's try to keep in mind that not everyone in this room knows about sex, nor do they need to, okay?"
Jade sucked air through her teeth. "Whatever."
Dan looked at Sarah, whose downturned face was every bit as red as Dan's was moments ago, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. He lifted her chin until her eyes met his. "I'm not stupid," she muttered.
"Of course you're not, baby," Dan soothed. "There are things in this world you're not ready to know about. Don't you worry about things like that for now. You just keep being your beautiful little self, okay?"
Sarah brightened enough to cease the waterworks before sticking her tongue out at Jade, who matched her in spades. "Now where was I?" queried Dan.
Another of the students that had been quiet to this point chimed in. He was a jet black haired boy who looked as if someone had thrown goth-styled clothes on a stick figure. His facial features were bony, his eyes recessed, and his teeth were the stuff of a dentists nightmare. He was obviously one of the more troubled ones, a juvie tattoo peeking out from one of his long sleeves. "You were telling us about what happened with your family."
Dan nodded gratefully. "Thank you..." He quickly searched his memory for the boy's file. "Colin, right?" The boy returned his nod. "Well, my brother started raising a fuss. My parents came out to see what the commotion was. Once my brother told them what he'd seen, my mother went into hysterics. My father, though? Oh boy."
"My father immediately grabbed me by the back of my neck and slammed me to the ground. He demanded that I start praying for God's forgiveness as he tried to choke the life out of me."
"You're making that up," insisted Jerry.
Dan immediately turned to a police photograph that depicted the bruised handprints of a large man encircling his neck. "You kids need to know one thing about me. I will never lie to you. Even if it means hurting you more with the truth. It's sort of a life motto of mine. Now, may I get back to my story?" He waited as he looked around the room for any further interruptions.
"To top it off, my little brother had gone into the house to get his aluminum baseball bat. After I escaped from my dad's clutches, he chased me out of the neighborhood with it as my dad yelled obscenities and bible verses at me. My mother just stayed in the back yard crying as if they'd found me dead."
"So you had a rough 'coming out.'" Jade spewed. "That hardly means that you know what we went through."
"Actually, Jade," Dan interjected, "You and I are more alike than you know. I ran away that night. After almost two years of living on the streets, I made it most of the way to San Francisco. It was fate that brought the couple that would adopt me into my life. Janice and Delvin Fierce found me on a lonely tract of highway after a trucker had beat me almost to death before dumping my body out on the road."
Colin raised his hand meekly. Once Dan pointed to him, he spoke. "So what about the juvie record?"
Dan sighed deeply. "When I was on the streets, I had to do some pretty bad things just to get by, some of the same things I know a few of you have had to do. I stole. I sold drugs. I even sold my body. That's how the trucker and I met. It was a risky life and I almost died because of it."
"I turned my life around thanks to the man who started this dojo." Dan stood stiff in respectful pride to his adopted father's memory. "That's the level of commitment I'd like to see from all of you. No more drugs," he said pointedly to Colin and the others he knew were using. "No more stealing or breaking and entering."
"Nothing worth having is an easy road," Dan explained. "But I can promise you that you will feel infinitely better about yourself when you're finished." He glanced over the recruits as they pondered his offer. He could see the wheels spinning in their minds. The only one who didn't seem to need much convincing was Sarah. She held her hand up, hopping up and down with the kind of enthusiasm that Dan hoped she could keep for the rest of her life.
The one thing Dan hated about the first group meetings with a new crew of kids was the flashbacks it always triggered. After all of the kids had gone back to either the group home or their foster homes, and he was once again all alone in the meeting room of his dojo, he leaned back in his desk chair with his eyes closed.
He supposed it was perhaps a mild form of post-traumatic stress disorder, but he never felt it was too out of control for him to need to be medicated or to see a therapist. His adoptive father taught him some coping mechanisms that he himself had used in Vietnam.
"There are some memories," his Dad explained after Dan had worked through a particularly nasty bout with his own flashes, "that just can't be forgotten." His dad never played the "comparison game." Dan knew that war was on a whole different level than the abuses he went through before being made part of the Fierce family. That was never the point his dad was trying to make. "Sometimes, you have to let these things happen and face them head-on, fears and all. Otherwise, you let them control your life."
Those words of wisdom echoed in his mind as he slowed his breathing to control his heart rate. He began to swivel and rock at the same time as the visions in his mind clawed their way to the forefront. A stone cold chill slithered around his body like an unseen snake trying to decide just where to sink its fangs first.
"Where are you heading, kid?" The rotund, bearded trucker asked as he popped the passenger door of his rig wide. He had soft brown eyes that nearly offset his rugged exterior, flannel shirt and all. The interior if the cab reeked of cigarettes, but was otherwise fairly immaculate, save for a his log book and a road atlas.
Dan's gut made his body recoil in spite of the friendliness the man behind the wheel had displayed. The rest of his body was electrified with sensations from his exploits since he left - not left, was forced - from his home in Kansas City, from his birth family merely a week ago.
He had contemplated going to the authorities, but this was 1982, after all. Who would believe a kid, much less an effeminate little tyke like him? They'd say he was being over-dramatic and just send him back home to the holier-than-thou father who reviled him, the mother who had turned her back on him, and the brother who wanted to beat his head in with a baseball bat.
One thing he learned in his brief time without shelter is that the kindness of strangers was hit-and-miss, but they almost always wanted something. He'd ask for a dollar in change for the vending machines at a rest stop, and they'd want their cars emptied of the trash in return. It was a chore Dan gladly accepted. It was easy, and it was usually an elder who could have used the assistance for such tasks anyways.
They usually gave him more than what he asked for if he went above and beyond; a half empty pack of gum, some hard candies, beef jerky, usually whatever they had handy but didn't expressly need for themselves. Some of the strangers wanted other things, things no one his age should be asked to do. Thankfully, most of them knew how to take no for an answer. He managed to give the slip to those who didn't.
Here he was, in Dodge City, Kansas. Nearly out of this godforsaken flat land that he either walked or hitchhiked across. Colorado would be next, unless he headed south to Oklahoma and Texas. He had fished a half eaten Reuben out of the dumpster and devoured it, despite it's less than appealing appearance earlier.
Even the July heat didn't seem to stem the wave of chills he was experiencing. He felt feverish and looked pallid. The trucker put his rig in park. "You okay, kid?"
As if on cue, the world around him blurred, and then went black as Dan's body went limp, hitting the gravel drive of the restaurant they were in with a nasty thud. Panic overtook the burly man as he scrambled out of his cab as quickly as his immense frame would allow.
A waitress with a polka dot bow accentuating her bleached blonde high-banged hairdo must have witnessed the crash and burn as well. She came scampering out in her leopard print spandex and smock, her ruby red flats pounding the gravel under foot. "What happened?" The concern in her voice was the last thing Dan heard before he went completely under.
Dan woke up in the back of the restaurant atop a makeshift bed consisting of sacks of rice and potatoes. He weakly opened his eyes, everything still out of focus. He could make out the trucker's image and a blonde haired female, but the third person was still too distorted to discern.
"He's coming to," indicated the third blur, a male from the sound of it. "That's a step in the right direction at least." Dan could see a reflection of a pen light drown out everything with a whitewash of light. Things would barely return to normal before the light took away all outlines again. The man put away the torturous device, prying open Dan's eyes to get a good look. "What's your name, kid?"
"D..." Dan replied meekly, his voice cracking through his dry throat. "Daniel. My... name's... Daniel."
"Where are your parents?" Dan deduced from the line of questioning and actions that this blur must have been a doctor.
"Kan..." Dan stopped himself before he finished his sentence. "I don't have any parents." He turned his face to the side away from all three of the interested faces as his tears moisturized as few grains of rice.
"Son," started the doctor, "Did you eat anything today?" Shame turned Dan's face flush as he told them about his meal. Things began to focus slowly for Dan. He noticed the nearly bald bespectacled man with a ring of gray hair nod. "Could be food poisoning then. We'll get you to a hospital, then we'll find your parents."
Dan shot bolt upright. "NO! I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK!" That was all the effort his body could put forth before things went black again. He fought the darkness as best he could, but the sickness in his body had already taken hold.
Sometimes fever dreams can be entertaining or unusual. Other times, they can be downright frightening, especially to a pre-teen whose body and mind are already rebelling in every way imaginable. The nightmares brought forth by a simple day old dumpster sandwich were absolutely catastrophic.
Dan woke up in a panic. The strange white room and antiseptic smell confusing him, frightening him. The heart monitor chirped in protest at his aggravation as he looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The rails of the narrow, uncomfortable bed he was in prevented him from toppling to the floor. Or his escape. His mind couldn't grasp which.
He clasped the rubber tubes attached to him, yanking them free. His wrist was already bruised from the nurse's failed attempts at running the I.V. Next to go was the sticky diodes from the wires leading to that infernal beeping device. The sound droned into a flat-line as the connections were severed.
Looking down at his small preteen frame, the hospital gown barely covered anything. What it did manage to obscure, is just where the tube running between his thighs ended. His eyes wide in disbelief, he peered down his robe to his boyhood. He had to bite his hand to muffle the shocked scream exploding from his lungs.
Unfamiliar voices from down the halls clambered closer with each second, the beating of soft shoes squeaking on heavily waxed linoleum drawing near. He shoved his hand down to his nether regions, tugging lightly at the invasive horror penetrating his urethra. He had no idea what it was, how he got here, or even where "here" was. All he knew was if he didn't get out of here, he'd be forced to go back to Kansas City, back to the family who had threatened his life and disowned him.
The tube wasn't going to come out without protest. It was going to hurt. Dan gave it a quick yank, urine and a bit of blood joining the catheter as he removed it with another muffled shout of agony. He scrambled out of the bed and to a blind corner close to the door. Soon enough, a nurse and two candy-stripers ran into the room. Without wasting time, Dan plod barefoot out of the room and down the hallway, the three shouting at him in close pursuit.
An orderly emerged from another room at the end of the hallway to see what the commotion was. The nurse screamed at the burly colored man to capture the retreating boy, but Dan performed a baseball slide between the behemoth's legs as he made his attempt. Their pleas for Dan to stop fell on deaf ears. There was no way he'd allow himself to be turned into the authorities. He trod into the stairwell, shambling down as fast as he could, paying no mind to the blood trickling down his hand and from a place he didn't even want to think about right now.
The doors to the stairs slammed open and shut as the pursuers continued. Luckily their prize was more fleet on his feet. Dan pulled a door marked "Parking Garage B" ajar, but let it go and headed down another flight to hide in a corner out of sight. Sure enough, the predators fell for his deception. He didn't waste time congratulating himself. He headed back up two flights to the door leading to the lobby before thinking better of it. A half-naked twelve year old couldn't just saunter out onto the streets without raising a few eyebrows.
"Damn," he thought. "What am I gonna do?"
Time was short. He shuffled back down a flight to "Parking Garage A" and slowly peeked through the door to see if the coast was clear. He could hear the distant voices of the staff he gave the slip as they searched. Keeping a low profile, he snuck in and through the cars, occasionally checking them to see if they were locked. He finally happened upon a white Chevy Nova that looked like rust had all but eaten the wheel wells away. The garage was dark enough that he could climb inside and hide on the floorboard, even though his blue smock was nowhere close to the red velvet interior's color.
He sprawled out between the back and front seats, quickly pulling a few loose items of greasy smelling clothing over himself to aid in his getaway. The voices approached the car, another one mixed in that he'd not heard before. It was a gruff man's voice. The hospital employees questioned the man if he had seen a boy with Dan's description. He apparently told them he hadn't just before he snapped the Nova's door open, mounting the car with a resounding thud.
It lilted slightly to the driver's side, making Dan believe the man must have been pretty hefty in stature. A Zippo flicked to life as the man puffed at his cigarette. The car roared to whatever life was left in the severely neglected engine. Between the exhaust leaking up from the muffler and the smoke from its driver, Dan had to choke back a coughing fit to prevent detection.
Dan felt the sensation of motion, the lights in the roof of the garage flicking by just before the sun popped in through the windows.
"You can come out now," indicated the man, his gravelly voice a bit more unnerving than before. Slowly, Dan sat up, suspicion and fear overtaking his eyes. He trembled, knowing he'd been found. "You can relax kid. I'm not going to hurt you." He cracked a window to allow the smog an escape route. He calmly toked his cancer stick before peering at his stowaway through the rear view mirror. "Why are you trying to escape? This is a good hospital."
"I..." stammered Dan, "I don't want to go home."
The massive bearded man nodded as if he understood. "Okay. Well, I'm taking a chance on getting myself in trouble, but if you tell me your name, I think I know someplace we can go where you'll be safe."
"Daniel," he belted meekly. Dan finally got a good look at his surroundings. All he could guess was that the man he was with must be living out of his car. Where the mounds of disgustingly filthy laundry weren't, there were fast food wrappers and empty styrofoam cups long devoid of their contents. He didn't speak another word as his host pulled into a church parking lot.
He dismounted the car, poking his head back in. "Stay down. I don't have any clothes that would fit you. I'll see if I can scare something up." All around the sanctuary, men, women, and even some children, lurked about in varying degrees disheveled appearances. Dan would have felt pity for them if he weren't so frightened for himself.
About half an hour passed before the grizzly bear of a human returned with some rather garish second hand clothes. The man noticed Dan's nose wrinkle at the loud print shirt and cutoff jean shorts, tube socks and a pair of shoes that have seen more wear than a two dollar hooker. "I know it's not much, but at least it's better than what you're wearing."
Dan threw the garb on, unaware of the man watching his naked ass slip into the shorts. "Thank you," Dan chirped gratefully.
"My pleasure," snorted the man through a contorted cloud of smoke. "Name's Ben." He stuck a hand out. Dan took it with a smile and shook it. Ben returned the boy's smile. "I think we're going to be good friends, Daniel." Then his words turned internal. "Good friends, indeed."
The Last Hurrah - Chapter One
Dan sat in the group meeting room of the dojo his adopted father left to him. In his lap were a dozen or so dossiers of several teens and pre-teens that were scheduled to arrive soon. Through the years since taking over the facets of the Fierce Martial Arts Dojo, he's had several of these encounters. It was part of the legacy the man who adopted him when he was fourteen would instill on him, and one he would continue until his dying day.
He thumbed through the files once more, doing his best to put names to faces and at least remember a few of the details that brought them all to the program he offered; free martial arts training to troubled youth and runaways. Had any of the kids been regular attendees at their schools, they'd likely belong to a diverse grouping of cliques. They were all mostly intelligent, with a variety of hairstyles and fashion sense, and as was usually the case with groups previous, some of them were at least questioning their sexuality, according to their records. Some of them even had piercings and tattoos at their young ages, most likely done by shady tattoo artists or during various incarcerations in juvenile detention facilities.
None of that mattered to Dan. All that was important to him was connecting to them. He knew all too well exactly what some of them were going through, even if they didn't believe him. He stopped his briefing at a young boy. He could tell that the streets had been especially hard on this poor kid. Under the rugged exterior, he was an overall good looking sandy blonde haired kid. His name was Jerry.
Dan immediately felt his heart sink as he read the bio. It was all hitting very close to home for him. At thirteen years old, the boy had been essentially homeless for two years. Despite efforts by the authorities to place him in a foster home, either he never stuck around to give it a chance, or something else went wrong. Like many of the habitual runaways, he'd gotten hooked on drugs, usually crack. Dan wanted to help this one especially. He could tell just by what he read that this kid was likely close to rock bottom.
Finally, the knock he was expecting came before the door swung wide. "Mr. Fierce?" The group councilor, a rotund man with a ring of salt and pepper hair crowning his bespectacled face peeked in. "May we come in?"
Dan smiled, holding up a finger, closing the file and stashing all of them away to prevent discomfort. He insisted that there was always a councilor or foster parent present to prevent the more dastardly-minded kiddos from trying to pull anything. The sessions were always recorded as well to prevent misdeeds. Finally, he walked to the front of his desk. "Come on in, Henry. Let's meet this year's crop." Dan walked closer to the door the greet the kids as they entered.
The councilor strode in, followed by a rather tall, lanky girl decked out in punk rock-esque gear, complete with a wilted blue mohawk. Dan recalled her name to be Lisa, but she preferred the name Jade. Dan offered a handshake, but she just popped her gum and rolled her eyes as she walked past to nest in the farthest corner of the room. He learned not to take it personally. A lot of these kids would be as aloof as alley cats, at least at the start.
Next came Jerry, who tried his best to mimic Jade's attitude, even though she was three years his senior and every bit a good foot taller. Dan could see the possibility of a little crush going on there, or at least some level of infatuation. Still, he smiled at the boy, getting a gnarled grimace in return for his efforts.
The rest of the kids filed in, each with their own personalities showing. Some were genuinely pleasing and thankful, others did their absolute best to blend in with the wall as soon as they entered. Some accepted Dan's hello, while others joined in the on the snubbing.
Dan leaned on his mahogany desk, allowing the group to find something resembling comfort in an otherwise very anxious meeting. "Before we do introductions, let me tell you a little about our program."
Dan explained what he would be offering them, with mostly feigned disinterest from the peanut gallery. He then went into what would be expected from them if they decided to carry through with their training.
"Why should we care?" Jade snarled. "Better yet, why should YOU care?"
Dan's smile wilted away, the salesman in him taking a temporary emotional hiatus to get serious for a few moments. "Because Jade," he began, "I was exactly where a few of you are when I was your age." That revelation stopped the girl's line of questioning. Dan could tell that he finally had their attention, even if they weren't confident enough to look him in the eyes yet.
He decided to ease the tension a bit with his sense of humor. "I doubt it's a secret that I'm a bit more... Fabulous... than most of the people you kids have met." Just as he'd hoped it garnered a few chuckles, or at least a reaction from most of them.
A long blonde-haired girl sitting Indian style in the front tilted her head in confusion. She couldn't have been more than eleven years old. Her baby blue eyes twinkled in spite of her rough history and current emotions. "I don't get it."
"He means he's a fa..." Jade started.
"Fabulous..." Dan admonished the little upstart before she could finish THAT word. He doubted he would ever have kids of his own without some serious scientific breakthroughs or a medical miracle, but he still managed to master the "dad" stare when one of his charges tried to step out of line. Seeing the look he gave her, Jade quieted down without a second warning. "...means I don't quite fit into the mould society wants me to, Sarah."
The little girl pondered the new "fact" she was presented, then chimed in matter-of-factly, "Then I'm fabulous too."
The entire room roared with laughter, save for Dan, who bent down, cupping her chin in his hand. "You certainly are, Sarah. You're not my kind of fabulous. You are your own kind of beautiful." Dan straightened up after seeing the joyful gleam in her eyes. "You all have something you can offer the world. You just need to want it bad enough. You are all worth my time, if I'm worth yours. I can't make you go through with this program. You have to want it for yourself."
He paused, slipping into his pseudo-drill sergeant routine. "You won't like me sometimes."
"Even more than right now?"
"Yes, Jade," he glowered. "This wasn't an easy road for me, and it damned sure won't be an easy one for any of you, but I promise it will be worth it." Dan approached Jade, standing directly in front of her. "Until you can believe in yourselves," he looked her directly in the eyes with authority. "I'll have to do the believing for all of us. I'm good at that."
The Last Hurrah - Chapter Two
"I call bullshit," chided Jade to the snickering shock of the rest of the kids. "You don't know what we're going through." Dan could tell she threw up a defense wall to further fortify herself from something she neither wanted nor thought she deserved. "You damned sure don't know what we've been through."
Dan knew exactly where this was going. He's seen a variation of Jade in nearly every group of kids who walked through his dojo door. He smiled softly, holding up a finger as he reached behind him for his own file, thicker than three of Jade's dossiers by the time he was even Jerry's age. He politely handed it to her with a welcoming flourish, inviting her to read it.
Her brow furrowed as she pretended to thumb through it, looking mostly at the pictures. "What is all of this?"
"I've read all of your files," answered Dan. "I think it's only fair that you should have the same opportunity. What you hold in your hands was my file from when I was younger than you. Juvenile criminal record, adoption papers, a few embarrassing mug shots, oh, and some articles that took place after I turned my life around."
Jade closed it, even as the other kids gathered around her, their curiosity piqued. "Can you just give us the cliff notes version?"
Dan narrowed his eyes, examining the girl's expression. He'd seen this before too. "She may not be able to read," he thought to himself. "But she's gotta play the cool card to keep people from figuring out her weakness."
"Tell you what, sweetie. I'll do better than that. I'll bore you with the details." Dan noticed that even a few of the more aloof potential students decided to give him their attention. That was a fairly unexpected reaction. He usually got groans and eye rolls. Only Jade and Jerry didn't disappoint in that aspect.
Dan pulled out the adoption paper, turning it towards his audience and pointing towards the section that spoke of his origin. "I was born to Reverend John Martinez and his wife Martha. I have a brother that's two years younger than me, and we lived in Kansas City, Missouri.
"One night, when I was twelve, I had a friend over to spend the night. He and I pitched a tent in the back yard. My little brother caught us doing things that adults do together."
Sarah, the blonde haired girl who still had an air of innocence to her, appeared befuddled. "You guys played video games together?"
While Dan and the rest of the class chuckled, Jade shook her head. "No, stupid. They were having sex."
Dan turned a few shades of red, both from mortification and an honest bit of anger towards the upstart of a teen girl. "Well, I was trying to be a little less blunt, but yes." The giggles immediately ceased as Dan shot Jade a warning look. "Jade, honey, let's try to keep in mind that not everyone in this room knows about sex, nor do they need to, okay?"
Jade sucked air through her teeth. "Whatever."
Dan looked at Sarah, whose downturned face was every bit as red as Dan's was moments ago, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. He lifted her chin until her eyes met his. "I'm not stupid," she muttered.
"Of course you're not, baby," Dan soothed. "There are things in this world you're not ready to know about. Don't you worry about things like that for now. You just keep being your beautiful little self, okay?"
Sarah brightened enough to cease the waterworks before sticking her tongue out at Jade, who matched her in spades. "Now where was I?" queried Dan.
Another of the students that had been quiet to this point chimed in. He was a jet black haired boy who looked as if someone had thrown goth-styled clothes on a stick figure. His facial features were bony, his eyes recessed, and his teeth were the stuff of a dentists nightmare. He was obviously one of the more troubled ones, a juvie tattoo peeking out from one of his long sleeves. "You were telling us about what happened with your family."
Dan nodded gratefully. "Thank you..." He quickly searched his memory for the boy's file. "Colin, right?" The boy returned his nod. "Well, my brother started raising a fuss. My parents came out to see what the commotion was. Once my brother told them what he'd seen, my mother went into hysterics. My father, though? Oh boy."
"My father immediately grabbed me by the back of my neck and slammed me to the ground. He demanded that I start praying for God's forgiveness as he tried to choke the life out of me."
"You're making that up," insisted Jerry.
Dan immediately turned to a police photograph that depicted the bruised handprints of a large man encircling his neck. "You kids need to know one thing about me. I will never lie to you. Even if it means hurting you more with the truth. It's sort of a life motto of mine. Now, may I get back to my story?" He waited as he looked around the room for any further interruptions.
"To top it off, my little brother had gone into the house to get his aluminum baseball bat. After I escaped from my dad's clutches, he chased me out of the neighborhood with it as my dad yelled obscenities and bible verses at me. My mother just stayed in the back yard crying as if they'd found me dead."
"So you had a rough 'coming out.'" Jade spewed. "That hardly means that you know what we went through."
"Actually, Jade," Dan interjected, "You and I are more alike than you know. I ran away that night. After almost two years of living on the streets, I made it most of the way to San Francisco. It was fate that brought the couple that would adopt me into my life. Janice and Delvin Fierce found me on a lonely tract of highway after a trucker had beat me almost to death before dumping my body out on the road."
Colin raised his hand meekly. Once Dan pointed to him, he spoke. "So what about the juvie record?"
Dan sighed deeply. "When I was on the streets, I had to do some pretty bad things just to get by, some of the same things I know a few of you have had to do. I stole. I sold drugs. I even sold my body. That's how the trucker and I met. It was a risky life and I almost died because of it."
"I turned my life around thanks to the man who started this dojo." Dan stood stiff in respectful pride to his adopted father's memory. "That's the level of commitment I'd like to see from all of you. No more drugs," he said pointedly to Colin and the others he knew were using. "No more stealing or breaking and entering."
"Nothing worth having is an easy road," Dan explained. "But I can promise you that you will feel infinitely better about yourself when you're finished." He glanced over the recruits as they pondered his offer. He could see the wheels spinning in their minds. The only one who didn't seem to need much convincing was Sarah. She held her hand up, hopping up and down with the kind of enthusiasm that Dan hoped she could keep for the rest of her life.
The Last Hurrah - Chapter Three
The one thing Dan hated about the first group meetings with a new crew of kids was the flashbacks it always triggered. After all of the kids had gone back to either the group home or their foster homes, and he was once again all alone in the meeting room of his dojo, he leaned back in his desk chair with his eyes closed.
He supposed it was perhaps a mild form of post-traumatic stress disorder, but he never felt it was too out of control for him to need to be medicated or to see a therapist. His adoptive father taught him some coping mechanisms that he himself had used in Vietnam.
"There are some memories," his Dad explained after Dan had worked through a particularly nasty bout with his own flashes, "that just can't be forgotten." His dad never played the "comparison game." Dan knew that war was on a whole different level than the abuses he went through before being made part of the Fierce family. That was never the point his dad was trying to make. "Sometimes, you have to let these things happen and face them head-on, fears and all. Otherwise, you let them control your life."
Those words of wisdom echoed in his mind as he slowed his breathing to control his heart rate. He began to swivel and rock at the same time as the visions in his mind clawed their way to the forefront. A stone cold chill slithered around his body like an unseen snake trying to decide just where to sink its fangs first.
*******
"Where are you heading, kid?" The rotund, bearded trucker asked as he popped the passenger door of his rig wide. He had soft brown eyes that nearly offset his rugged exterior, flannel shirt and all. The interior if the cab reeked of cigarettes, but was otherwise fairly immaculate, save for a his log book and a road atlas.
Dan's gut made his body recoil in spite of the friendliness the man behind the wheel had displayed. The rest of his body was electrified with sensations from his exploits since he left - not left, was forced - from his home in Kansas City, from his birth family merely a week ago.
He had contemplated going to the authorities, but this was 1982, after all. Who would believe a kid, much less an effeminate little tyke like him? They'd say he was being over-dramatic and just send him back home to the holier-than-thou father who reviled him, the mother who had turned her back on him, and the brother who wanted to beat his head in with a baseball bat.
One thing he learned in his brief time without shelter is that the kindness of strangers was hit-and-miss, but they almost always wanted something. He'd ask for a dollar in change for the vending machines at a rest stop, and they'd want their cars emptied of the trash in return. It was a chore Dan gladly accepted. It was easy, and it was usually an elder who could have used the assistance for such tasks anyways.
They usually gave him more than what he asked for if he went above and beyond; a half empty pack of gum, some hard candies, beef jerky, usually whatever they had handy but didn't expressly need for themselves. Some of the strangers wanted other things, things no one his age should be asked to do. Thankfully, most of them knew how to take no for an answer. He managed to give the slip to those who didn't.
Here he was, in Dodge City, Kansas. Nearly out of this godforsaken flat land that he either walked or hitchhiked across. Colorado would be next, unless he headed south to Oklahoma and Texas. He had fished a half eaten Reuben out of the dumpster and devoured it, despite it's less than appealing appearance earlier.
Even the July heat didn't seem to stem the wave of chills he was experiencing. He felt feverish and looked pallid. The trucker put his rig in park. "You okay, kid?"
As if on cue, the world around him blurred, and then went black as Dan's body went limp, hitting the gravel drive of the restaurant they were in with a nasty thud. Panic overtook the burly man as he scrambled out of his cab as quickly as his immense frame would allow.
A waitress with a polka dot bow accentuating her bleached blonde high-banged hairdo must have witnessed the crash and burn as well. She came scampering out in her leopard print spandex and smock, her ruby red flats pounding the gravel under foot. "What happened?" The concern in her voice was the last thing Dan heard before he went completely under.
Dan woke up in the back of the restaurant atop a makeshift bed consisting of sacks of rice and potatoes. He weakly opened his eyes, everything still out of focus. He could make out the trucker's image and a blonde haired female, but the third person was still too distorted to discern.
"He's coming to," indicated the third blur, a male from the sound of it. "That's a step in the right direction at least." Dan could see a reflection of a pen light drown out everything with a whitewash of light. Things would barely return to normal before the light took away all outlines again. The man put away the torturous device, prying open Dan's eyes to get a good look. "What's your name, kid?"
"D..." Dan replied meekly, his voice cracking through his dry throat. "Daniel. My... name's... Daniel."
"Where are your parents?" Dan deduced from the line of questioning and actions that this blur must have been a doctor.
"Kan..." Dan stopped himself before he finished his sentence. "I don't have any parents." He turned his face to the side away from all three of the interested faces as his tears moisturized as few grains of rice.
"Son," started the doctor, "Did you eat anything today?" Shame turned Dan's face flush as he told them about his meal. Things began to focus slowly for Dan. He noticed the nearly bald bespectacled man with a ring of gray hair nod. "Could be food poisoning then. We'll get you to a hospital, then we'll find your parents."
Dan shot bolt upright. "NO! I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK!" That was all the effort his body could put forth before things went black again. He fought the darkness as best he could, but the sickness in his body had already taken hold.
Sometimes fever dreams can be entertaining or unusual. Other times, they can be downright frightening, especially to a pre-teen whose body and mind are already rebelling in every way imaginable. The nightmares brought forth by a simple day old dumpster sandwich were absolutely catastrophic.
The Last Hurrah - Chapter Four
Dan woke up in a panic. The strange white room and antiseptic smell confusing him, frightening him. The heart monitor chirped in protest at his aggravation as he looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The rails of the narrow, uncomfortable bed he was in prevented him from toppling to the floor. Or his escape. His mind couldn't grasp which.
He clasped the rubber tubes attached to him, yanking them free. His wrist was already bruised from the nurse's failed attempts at running the I.V. Next to go was the sticky diodes from the wires leading to that infernal beeping device. The sound droned into a flat-line as the connections were severed.
Looking down at his small preteen frame, the hospital gown barely covered anything. What it did manage to obscure, is just where the tube running between his thighs ended. His eyes wide in disbelief, he peered down his robe to his boyhood. He had to bite his hand to muffle the shocked scream exploding from his lungs.
Unfamiliar voices from down the halls clambered closer with each second, the beating of soft shoes squeaking on heavily waxed linoleum drawing near. He shoved his hand down to his nether regions, tugging lightly at the invasive horror penetrating his urethra. He had no idea what it was, how he got here, or even where "here" was. All he knew was if he didn't get out of here, he'd be forced to go back to Kansas City, back to the family who had threatened his life and disowned him.
The tube wasn't going to come out without protest. It was going to hurt. Dan gave it a quick yank, urine and a bit of blood joining the catheter as he removed it with another muffled shout of agony. He scrambled out of the bed and to a blind corner close to the door. Soon enough, a nurse and two candy-stripers ran into the room. Without wasting time, Dan plod barefoot out of the room and down the hallway, the three shouting at him in close pursuit.
An orderly emerged from another room at the end of the hallway to see what the commotion was. The nurse screamed at the burly colored man to capture the retreating boy, but Dan performed a baseball slide between the behemoth's legs as he made his attempt. Their pleas for Dan to stop fell on deaf ears. There was no way he'd allow himself to be turned into the authorities. He trod into the stairwell, shambling down as fast as he could, paying no mind to the blood trickling down his hand and from a place he didn't even want to think about right now.
The doors to the stairs slammed open and shut as the pursuers continued. Luckily their prize was more fleet on his feet. Dan pulled a door marked "Parking Garage B" ajar, but let it go and headed down another flight to hide in a corner out of sight. Sure enough, the predators fell for his deception. He didn't waste time congratulating himself. He headed back up two flights to the door leading to the lobby before thinking better of it. A half-naked twelve year old couldn't just saunter out onto the streets without raising a few eyebrows.
"Damn," he thought. "What am I gonna do?"
Time was short. He shuffled back down a flight to "Parking Garage A" and slowly peeked through the door to see if the coast was clear. He could hear the distant voices of the staff he gave the slip as they searched. Keeping a low profile, he snuck in and through the cars, occasionally checking them to see if they were locked. He finally happened upon a white Chevy Nova that looked like rust had all but eaten the wheel wells away. The garage was dark enough that he could climb inside and hide on the floorboard, even though his blue smock was nowhere close to the red velvet interior's color.
He sprawled out between the back and front seats, quickly pulling a few loose items of greasy smelling clothing over himself to aid in his getaway. The voices approached the car, another one mixed in that he'd not heard before. It was a gruff man's voice. The hospital employees questioned the man if he had seen a boy with Dan's description. He apparently told them he hadn't just before he snapped the Nova's door open, mounting the car with a resounding thud.
It lilted slightly to the driver's side, making Dan believe the man must have been pretty hefty in stature. A Zippo flicked to life as the man puffed at his cigarette. The car roared to whatever life was left in the severely neglected engine. Between the exhaust leaking up from the muffler and the smoke from its driver, Dan had to choke back a coughing fit to prevent detection.
Dan felt the sensation of motion, the lights in the roof of the garage flicking by just before the sun popped in through the windows.
"You can come out now," indicated the man, his gravelly voice a bit more unnerving than before. Slowly, Dan sat up, suspicion and fear overtaking his eyes. He trembled, knowing he'd been found. "You can relax kid. I'm not going to hurt you." He cracked a window to allow the smog an escape route. He calmly toked his cancer stick before peering at his stowaway through the rear view mirror. "Why are you trying to escape? This is a good hospital."
"I..." stammered Dan, "I don't want to go home."
The massive bearded man nodded as if he understood. "Okay. Well, I'm taking a chance on getting myself in trouble, but if you tell me your name, I think I know someplace we can go where you'll be safe."
"Daniel," he belted meekly. Dan finally got a good look at his surroundings. All he could guess was that the man he was with must be living out of his car. Where the mounds of disgustingly filthy laundry weren't, there were fast food wrappers and empty styrofoam cups long devoid of their contents. He didn't speak another word as his host pulled into a church parking lot.
He dismounted the car, poking his head back in. "Stay down. I don't have any clothes that would fit you. I'll see if I can scare something up." All around the sanctuary, men, women, and even some children, lurked about in varying degrees disheveled appearances. Dan would have felt pity for them if he weren't so frightened for himself.
About half an hour passed before the grizzly bear of a human returned with some rather garish second hand clothes. The man noticed Dan's nose wrinkle at the loud print shirt and cutoff jean shorts, tube socks and a pair of shoes that have seen more wear than a two dollar hooker. "I know it's not much, but at least it's better than what you're wearing."
Dan threw the garb on, unaware of the man watching his naked ass slip into the shorts. "Thank you," Dan chirped gratefully.
"My pleasure," snorted the man through a contorted cloud of smoke. "Name's Ben." He stuck a hand out. Dan took it with a smile and shook it. Ben returned the boy's smile. "I think we're going to be good friends, Daniel." Then his words turned internal. "Good friends, indeed."
