Run Danny Run (Chap. 10 Conclusion & Chap. 11)

"So you think he's really interested in this father of his?"

            "Based on his case files and statements he made throughout his youth, yes. He's interested in finding his father."

            "Then why this charade? Good grief, the boy was only hours away from meeting him."

            "He must have panicked, sir. Something triggered bad memories. Perhaps there was something unsavory from the past. It could be he did suffer molestation, and he was ashamed his father might find out."

            "So these accusations against one of his earlier foster parents had some foundation? I suppose it was never followed up."

            "No sir. He did have his Annual physical check-up and there was nothing out of the ordinary. And the foster parents had impeccable references, one of our best homes. But we did move him to avoid any further flights of imagination."  

            "What else do you have?” Mr. Allen asked. He was known to be a very stern man and certainly not one to trifle with. At the moment his demeanor was quite upset at the attention this case was drawing from the 'Halifax bureaucrats.' Once their noses got involved, cases had a habit of getting screwed up. And then, someone would pay.

            Mrs. Melon continued, "During his adoptive home stay there was never a younger sibling named, Nadia. However the school records show a Nadia, who used to be in grade four with him."

            "And---?"

            "You guessed it. He didn't get along well with her. Somehow it fixated on his mind. Danny seems to hold grudges a long time, Mr. Allen. We're dealing with a very troubled young man. He comes across as someone with an axe to grind."

            As the facts began piling up the case became even more complicated to Mr. Allen’s way of thinking. "He could be dangerous," he added. “What if he’s out there somewhere looking for his father? Does the boy even know where he lives?”           

"We think he does. Should we notify Mr. Reynolds about everything we know?" Mrs. Melon asked.

            "Yes, it's time to disclose everything. No telling what this boy is capable of. Do you know he has a .22 rifle with him?

            "Mrs. Melon was shocked. The concern showed through her tight-lipped concentration. She was not used to being put on the spot about a case, especially one from other jurisdictions. “A rifle?” she stammered.

            "Better make sure everyone involved with this case is aware of it. We hoped to keep it confidential since getting pertinent details from Lunenburg. Apparently he's also an excellent shot."

            Mr. Allen shook his head as he got up from his desk.

            This meeting was over.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Danny's determined face showed he had learned the meaning of work sometimes the hard way. In one of the boy’s previous foster homes he did chores properly, or else another bruise would be added to his collection. And he was expected to do a lot more than just taking the garbage out.

Mowing acres of lawn, chopping and piling wood as well as babysitting younger children became normal for him at an early age.

            No work meant no food. On occasion, that also meant sleeping in the basement, on the cement floor. Sometimes his reward was a good smack. Just thinking about it brought back memories of pain lines across his buttocks.

            Hurtful screams flooded back as he remembered.

            Somehow his eyes pushed away the darkness and retained a special twinkle to them. Whenever he felt lonely he did remember other foster homes, where people really cared. And he could smile briefly, thinking of those memories. When all was right with Danny, all was right with the world. 

            His wanting to belong made one feel completely at ease when getting to know him for the first time. Danny was not the type of person to stand out in a crowd; he was a follower.

He had a distinctive repair to one of his front teeth. The result of an after school accident caused by falling and having his skate come down splitting his tooth. The dentist's glue still held, but there was an obvious crevice.

            The slight dental defect added to his character, framed by blond hair blowing in the wind. It blended naturally with his “devil-may-care” attitude about everything.

Too often Danny acted as if he belonged to a lower class of person. Somehow he demonstrated very little ambition and a lack of vision towards the future. “No one seemed to care anyhow,” was a natural feeling since it appeared no one wanted to adopt him, unless he was a saint.

Although his body was not in perfect physical shape his spirit and soul were not daunted. Even after all he had been through.

            Danny had flat feet and was acutely aware of their pain even after a short walk. He wished something could have been done to cure them. Perhaps some kind of miracle would be acceptable.

            The last couple of weeks seemed to add an unfair measure of responsibility and accountability upon his thin frame. His carefree attitude and developing meanness was digging a deeper hole from which there was no return.

He knew that running away and breaking into the Reynolds’s home had placed him in a real pickle. Unfortunately Danny was not mature enough to understand how swiftly events had a way of spinning out of control.

            The police were now hunting him. And the young man was considered dangerous in the eyes of the Law. It was now known by all parties he was in possession of a lethal weapon, along with several boxes of ammunition.

            And he was a potential menace to society.

            But the boy did miss the Lapointes, even though he heard them say they didn’t want him to live there anymore. He missed his cat right now, and watching horses running in the fields next door to their farm.

            It really wasn't so bad in Lunenburg. In fact he had a tough time trying to remember why he had given the family such difficulty.

            Thinking things out took awhile and finally he was able to settle down and focus on his objective. His confusion wavered between a foster-type family and the real thing. In the end he realized he first wanted to see his own father, and to make him pay, big time.

But how, shoot him? No, scare him. That's it. The boy would like to see his father crap his pants and ask for forgiveness. Only then would he decide on his next move.

            "Payback," the boy mumbled to himself. All this time wasted---mother giving up, a father who drifted in and out of his memories. And those other foster families in his life.

            He squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to keep the tears in.

            If only he could talk to someone.

            Is it possible he could ever give his father another chance?

*

Not far across the water on Economy Lake, a smattering of green appears insignificant and lonesome. It pokes out of Economy Lake as a finger of rock lined with trees.

            From the mainland it appears as abandoned or even adrift from the closeness of shore. However, it's as near as the sky, earth and water with secrecy of its own.

            A restless wind twists throughout the trees. These proud firs are thick with branches and act as a mother to fir and feather.

            Fallen pine needles restlessly toss back and forth, seeking a better place in which to settle. They mix well in their dance from one depression in the earth to another. From here they prepare to take root and await rain's nourishment. Tomorrow's sun will stroke this fertile space and create new sprouts of life.

Nighttime arrives as a cloaking blanket, diminishing tardy sparks of evening light. And a flickering glow signals daytime's triumphant farewell. Sunny colors of pink, red, even mottled blue mingles within the framework of island and sky.

A hint of red is a lingering goodnight kiss.

Night has become a covering of quilted shadows.

Trees proudly stand as soldiers. They're picturesque as statuettes aside the shore. Soon, the island blends within the lake.

Waves move in quiet "shushes" aside the shore. Cowlicks of white herald each wave movement, rising up, then down in foamy splashes. Their ripples of froth act as spies in the moonlight.

Suddenly, all sound is halted. Movements pause and absorb a strange interrupting in the night air.

"AAH-OOH-AAH-OOH-AAH" is an escaping moan from a nearby loon. He claims this island as his own with a serenade that repeats in ascending waves. His sounds are hurrying steps climbing the brocade of a starry sky.

An eruption of magnificence and sound continues to rise and fall. It enters the sparsely forested area in a royal symphony, floating with ease around the island.

This magical flute heralds the beginning of normal night activities. Trees tremble. Limbs groan from a pressing push of feathers. A successful hunt concludes in the flapping of wings. An agony of alarm is heard above the stillness.

Within a blanket of night, pinpoints of light blink in lazy procession. Fireflies escape from one low brush to another, seeking discovery. Their beacon receives an answering blink.

Clouds travel in lazy swirls. They gather in piled up bunches above the island where the moon penetrates the crowded white mist. It creates a path from the sky, as silence pauses below. Feral eyes are raised in wonder to the distant heavens.

The moon provides a face of wonder, its illumination reflected from not so far below. This bonding began as a gaze of curiosity, or perhaps from an ancient chain of fellowship. It took place during an earlier time, when this island erupted as a flower from beneath the surface of Economy Lake.

Earth and sky became brothers in the happening.