Run Danny Run (Chap. 3)

CHAPTER THREE

Danny remembered his tenth birthday party ---

I'm wearing my favorite pants. They’re camouflage for a hunter. Just like Rambo in the old TV movie, First Blood.

            Outside, the snow is dropping huge flakes. Cars are stuck up and down the hill where I live. This foster home is neat.

            My foster mom even invited some of the kids from around to come to my party at MacDonald's. Then some older people sang songs and all the kids cheered. We had party hats and blown up balloons. I had a red one, but yellow is my favorite color. 

            Today, I have to remember to smile, like the sun.

            I want to shine brightly. The sun makes people smile. Rain makes people grumpy. I want people to smile, especially today.

            When we get back from Macdonald's my foster mom has another surprise. "What do you think about a couple of adults coming over Danny?"

 I like that. She asks my opinion, instead of treating me just like a little kid. It makes me feel like I'm somebody special.

            "Great!" I answer.

             She's a single parent. And her two girls are a pain in the butt. My foster mother doesn't like it when I slap them though.

            When everyone finally arrives, there is lots of noise and good presents. I got a model airplane and a kite, even a Blue Jay baseball cap. "Neato," I say over and over. "Thank you, thank you," my mouth opens wide like a fish I once saw in an aquarium.

My foster mother says I'm a polite boy. I like it here. And I really, really hope I don't have to move anymore. Maybe she'll keep me until I'm a man.

            Oh no, I forgot.

            Men can be mean. They do mean things. Even go away or die on you. I promised myself I don't want to grow up. I want to stay ten years old, forever. And keep it like today ... the happiest day of my life.

            I open all my gifts stacked up on the table. I make a messy pile of torn wrappings and ribbons. But nobody seems to care.

            "It's your special day, Danny. So, I won't be too tough on you." Sometimes my foster mother is cross, not today though. I really love her. She's very nice to me.

            Everyone likes my new haircut. Now I can see my ears in the mirror. I wanted new running shoes. "Not enough money," my foster mother said. I promise her, “Someday I'm going to be rich.”

            Balloons are piled all over the table, and we start throwing them around. Then my favorite T-Shirt got messy from my ice cream.

            We live in a big house with a hill at the back. I hope I don't get grass stains on my pants when summer comes. I don't like to get into trouble. It makes people unhappy and mean.

            Right now the grass is painted white from the snow. When I'm up in my bedroom on the top floor, I can see the whole world, like now.

            My fun party is over and I'm thinking bad thoughts again. I wish I could stop worrying and just be a little kid.

            The bogeyman used to scare me when I came here two months ago. I could hide from him by shutting my eyes real tight. And stay way under the covers.

            It's much better when he can't see me. Sometimes, I scream in my dreams and wake everybody up. Then my foster mom has to hold me until everything is okay and I fall asleep.

            One day, everything changed. The Children’s Aid told me I have to move somewhere else. My foster mom says it’s because I keep hitting her little girls. And everyone is crying.           Especially me.

*

Anne and I are on an evening walk. It’s a serenade of peace and relaxation on our shadowed street beside Victoria Park.

The moon is richly full, aglow as a giant lantern with an abundance of light. Certainly it casts enough shine to polish up the whole world. It’s the kind of night when adults should be laying as children on the grass looking up, enjoying the sky.

Zillions of stars need someone right now, to make a wish. And I do so. Let it be like this, peaceful, and relaxing in the comfort of my wife's presence. Forever. Anne and I slowly amble up Rosewyn Street, past our neighbor George, now retired after 35 years at the cheese factory.

We continue past the home where 23 year-old Ted steers a wheelchair, instead of a Harley. He crosses Lansdoon; now descending the steepness of Exhibition Street.

            Gaslight lamps from Inglis Place far below and across the tracks are beckoning tomorrow's shoppers. And of course the stars above suddenly discover there are still at least two people in love, holding hands and cuddling.

            Dogs begin to bark. The silence of our walk has somehow aroused the noisy canines. It’s difficult to concentrate anymore. Have to hurry before the whole neighborhood comes to investigate.

            Life is like that. We must capture the moment of our caring, a touch here--a word there. Gentle thoughts parade as memories of emotion, filed for future reference. They can be withdrawn whenever the pressures of life threaten to overwhelm us. Too soon an intrusion works its way into our lives.

            Our sanctuaries of thought are such private spaces and now temporarily displaced by the inquisitive sounds of barking dogs.

            "Should have brought JC along," my wife teases.

            "Yes," I answer. Susan's cat used to be mine. She has a habit of chasing dogs from our own backyard. That is her private territory and jealously guards it from intruders.

            I reach down and pick up a penny. It represents a small part of this throwaway generation. Why do people 'chuck' these away anyway? It seems sad to continually pick up castaway pennies from people who carelessly discard them. But I don't mind, recovering what is not wanted.

Sometimes people throw away their children.

Maybe that’s why I want Danny in our family. He’s like a cast away coin.  Walt and Susan laughed when I showed them the jar on my dresser. "You just watch," I told them. "I'm going to try and fill it before the end of the year."

            "Anne," I said. "Why do they do it? Here we are raising children and trying to teach them something. How can we inspire them to hang onto their money when maybe it's their friends doing this? Somehow we have to encourage them never to copy these types of people."

            The dogs are much louder. We can barely even think, let alone hear our conversation.

"I remember when the children were younger and needed me so much," Anne says. “Things like, ‘Mommy, what should I wear?’ coming from Susan. ‘Mommm. Come quick. I think I cut myself,’ from Walt. Gosh, I miss that. Now it seems I have to intrude on them in order to try and capture that feeling of being needed." 

            "Yeah," I know what you mean. But I didn't even have that chance then. Both my parents worked while I was young. Not much chance to do anything as a family. That's why I want us to share and make the most of our times together, hon.

And it has to happen before the kids grow up and only want to be with their friends. Some parents are simply there as fixtures, or taxi drivers, not really doing anything meaningful with them."

            "That’s quite a speech, dear." Anne took her husband's arm in her own giving it a loving squeeze. Even in the last year since he knew the children, she had seen such a positive change. "There are still lots of time for you to be a big part of their lives, Larry."

            "But, at least you had them for a period of time when they totally leaned on you. It gave you a chance to mould them. And they were young enough to pick up your good points."

            "Really?" Anne laughed. "You'll have to list those good points for me sometime. Or, better still. Ask the children what they remember?"

            "I'm sure it's a long list, dear. For instance, Susan has your wit and Walt has your energy. The best I can come up with is trying to understand Susan's cute comments and barely keeping up to Walt in a short race."

            Anne tried to make light of his seriousness. Changing the subject might help. "I really wanted Roy to get to know you," Anne said. "He just couldn't accept another man in the house. You know, it's really his loss," she added.

            "Yes. He seems like a nice enough young fellow; a little hard to get to know him though, when he's visiting. I've tried to break through that mask of his. It's as if he spends his time watching me, waiting for me to make a wrong move, or something. Besides, Walt gives Roy enough ammunition to take back."

            "How does he do that?"

            "Well, he totally ignores Roy. For instance, the last time we planned to go to the store, Walt suddenly decided he didn't want to go. When Roy said it was okay he'd do some reading instead, Walt changed his mind. Almost as if he would rather Roy wasn't around."

            "Walt simply doesn't want to share you with any other boy, even if it is his brother. That's all. I can imagine how threatened he also feels about Danny possibly coming to live with us. That means, there are now two brothers to compete against each other."

             Larry gave his wife a good squeeze. "Poor Walt. Maybe I should put myself in his shoes sometimes, instead of guessing how he feels. He shouldn't be afraid to lose any part of me, especially when he has most of me to himself. Sometimes it’s Susan who gets left out."

            "I know Hon" Anne said. "It's also easy to understand why Roy kept hoping my marriage would pick up where it left off. There wasn't much left after all those flings his father had in every town. Is that what happens to most traveling salesmen?"

            Larry kissed her cheek. "I'm here now Hon, forever. There will always be a place in my heart for Roy, too. Maybe one day he'll wake up in the morning, open his eyes and look around. And I'll be there for him."

            "Thanks, love."  

            It sure felt good walking by his wife's side, talking about their family. Love is great. Even if there isn't much chance to relax these days. He's certainly had a lot on his mind lately.

            Sometimes it's not so easy for a man to express his thoughts. You know the old saying; “The power behind the throne is a woman.” I agree with all my heart.

            When I first met Anne I told her marriage is not just 50-50; nor 70-30. Not even 80-20. It's 100% -100%. Because when I fall down and need a burst of encouragement she has to be prepared to pick me up 100%. And I must be prepared to do the same for her.

            As I listen to the feminists, I respect their views. But, I respect my wife's mostly. She's my battery---she's my life. Anne is always in my thoughts. We've had an intimacy since our marriage. We don't pull any punches---we share.

            I suppose there are times when there are secret feelings men have a difficult time, sharing. Some little thought or saying or feeling that's best not expressed. Better to shut the lip, regarding those occasions.

Yet, not telling her about Jenny was stupid. Anne took it well though. It's such a shame Danny was the one handed the short end of the stick. Years of drifting from home to home waiting for someone to say, "Stop. No more moves. You're staying here, period."

            No matter how much I want to find my son, I know I have been neglecting Walt and Susan lately. I know it and they know it. Even Anne knows it. But my search is all consuming.

            One of these days we're going to find him.

            There have been times to keep a low profile on this search, some thoughts of anger against the system for not contacting the father, or whatever. Why did Jenny have to lay this one on my new family? Why didn't she let me know about Danny, long before it had come to this?

            Questions and more questions twisted and turned.

            As Anne and I continue our walk, our voices are whispers of refreshment to my soul. Just walking and talking like this is another of the many special moments we have together. One thing’s for sure; Danny coming into our lives has nurtured stronger feelings for one another. Too many of our friends joked about the sparkle leaving their marriage.

            Anne and I could easily say the sparkle has never been brighter. Maybe Danny reminds us how important we are to one another.

            Come on Danny, where are you? There's a family called the Reynolds's waiting to say, "Hello, and stop. This is the end of the line kid. Come on home."

            And I’ll keep him Forever, Larry murmured more to himself.