Run Danny Run (Chap.2 Conclusion)

And there was none faster when he was on the run, especially if he hooked onto a carton of smokes from Zeller's Department Store. He knew those overweight security tubs could never move fast enough when he was booting it out the Mall door.

            Danny looked around once more. The cop sure is stupid, he thought. What's he waiting for sitting in the car? Doesn't he know its cold out here sitting on my butt? The boy sure hoped the man would leave soon, so he could climb back into bed. Or at least before his crabby foster folks found out he was scampering around outside like a skinny rat.

His new foster parents would not like it at all. "No more trouble," they had said. "Next thing the neighbors will be calling the Children's Aid saying we can't look after you properly."

            He couldn't figure them out. First they said they wanted him then they kept threatening to kick him out. After all, they got money for his keep. If they didn't want him around, then it was time for him to take a hike. Besides, he couldn't stand to take another licking. The last belt marks on his butt were just starting to fade away.   

            He was happy to see no one else around this time of day. Anyways it was too early for this neighborhood. Most of the families were either on welfare, or Pogey.

Finally, the police car pulled out as if needed somewhere else more important.

            Keeping a safe distance, Danny dashed to the street shaking his fist at the retreating car. Then he clambered up the front steps, taking them two at a time. One lousy careless moment earned him a slip and the concrete step scraped skin from his left ankle. Pain climbed furiously up his leg to his clenched fists.

            He wanted to scream, to curse this life, to fill the street with all the filthy words he learned in nine young years.

            But instead, he sat on the front porch and hugged his knees. One hand pressed firmly on his ankle, partly to keep out the pain, partly to shut out the loneliness of the world.

            If only he had a mom … and a dad.   

*

Larry sat with his family in church. He tried to concentrate on the service but as was his habit, he liked to look around. He noticed several pews ahead of him his friend Bill sitting with his family.

He knew the man loved children. He must since there were seven of them between himself and his wife. They kept turning to their parents for direction, as if trying to gain their favor.

            A nod here and one child would open his Bible. A finger to their parent's lips and another would stop poking his sister. It was easy to see their mother smiling with contentment. She seemed to be settled in comfortably knowing all was well with her family.

And this is the way it was meant to be.

            Being together in this place of worship is a family affair. And the man and wife making sure there was a proper decorum from their children, paying attention to what was going on around them. 

            Larry couldn't help but notice the antics of Bill's youngest son, who was around five. He didn't want to sit on his father's lap, and kept stepping on his toes trying to see overtop the lady in front. Larry could sense the boy's discomfort, and inwardly cheered his decision to sit quietly on daddy's knee and enjoy the proceedings.

            Larry noticed his friend Bill resting his hand on the boy's neck, then shoulder. The small boy reached up and wrapped tiny fingers around his dad's hand.

            Both kneaded each other's limbs.

            It was heartwarming. The type of touch Larry was jealous of, those hands joined together as father and son.

            One flesh.

            Larry always wished he could be a part of the toes and fingers of such a boy. Adoption of a child was great and feelings of parenthood natural and strong. Oh, but to have had a hand in the creation of a child. To be part of the soul and spirit of someone who would carry his innermost being into the world.

He wanted to have his own family to nurture and journey together with thoughts and hopes into future generations.

            Now part of his personal wishes and intimate feelings would finally come to pass. Larry knew he had missed out on the early development of his son. He was out there in the big, wide world. Somewhere.

            Imagine meeting his flesh and blood son.

            He watched as Bill lifted up his little son and placed him on his knee. The little fellow didn’t seem interested in looking back or around anymore. He simply accepted the fact his dad was there for him.

            The boy looked like he belonged in that exact spot, in this precise moment. The features of his head and nose, the thrust of his jaw; all were part of a pattern. Yes, he was unmistakably his father's son.

            Larry directed his eyes to leave them alone in their privacy. His gaze returned to the service and the pastor before him.

            He glanced around at his own children. Walt was growing up so quickly and eagerly seeking some modicum of independence in decision-making. “Not of his flesh, but of his heart.” The same went for his adopted daughter, Susan helpful, caring, and needing the consistency of love from her parents.

Both children were still precious even though Larry missed out on many adventures watching them mature from early childhood.

            Did Danny need the touch of a father's hand, just like that little boy? And having a dad nearby to protect him from falling off his early starts on a bicycle? And Larry wasn't even there for him.

            Was Danny too old now to accept a hug or an arm of reassurance across his shoulder from a father he'd never met? To feel the rougher skin on his, molecules blending from weathered age to innocence of life. In fact, was Danny still innocent?

            Had the thieving and the lying hardened his heart beyond redemption? Each time a new crime was committed; did it spread a further layer of toughness within his soul? Larry washed these negative images away with a sigh and closed his eyes.

            "Oh Danny, where are you?" is a father's cry.