Run Danny Run (Chap. 5)

CHAPTER FIVE

 

Andrew Delaney thought he had everything planned just right, sneaking out with the last of his personal belongings. As luck would have it, anything of value fitted in the backpack he hefted on his shoulder.    

            The day began as if was going to be an OK Saturday.

            But he didn't count on his old man waiting for him at the curb. Just because he was Deputy Police Chief in Truro didn't give him the right to be his boss. Things were going to be different in this kid’s life.

            He looked to see if any of his friends were around. Probably watching from beside someone's house, waiting to see what his father would do. What was the ‘old man’ doing back here anyway? Andrew thought his father had to meet someone. Isn’t that why he had to leave early?

            "Andrew?"

            "What?" the boy asked, trying to ignore the man as he walked around him on the sidewalk.

            "I'm talking to you, son."

            Andrew hated that tone of voice. "I am not your S-O-N! I already said I'm moving out. And I'm not coming home anymore. I'm a man now.

            "What did you say?"

            "Cool it," the boy said half to himself. "Nothin'." He knew he should stop sucking in fresh air and at least listen. His fingers twitched for a smoke. "Got any?" he asked his father absent-mindedly.

            "You've got to be kidding. For a fifteen year old, you sure have no respect. I thought you'd change your mind, after our chat last night."

            "Guess I'm in for it now," the boy mocked. “Is it time to play good little kid, pop?"

            Deputy-Chief Trent Delaney had a good position in the town and respect from the merchants, but not from his only son. To his boy, he was simply "The old man" or "pop." Trent hated to be called "pop."

            The boy stood there, wondering what to do next. He thought he had tried to measure up to his father’s rules. They had been having serious words in the last month, since mom left. Andrew figured if the adults couldn't work it out why should he try?

Besides, lectures from the ‘old man’ kept getting longer and longer.

            "Will you stop and look at me for a moment, son? What's going on here?" Trent's eyes were pleading. He was almost worn out from worrying one day to the next, whether his son would follow through on his threat. Now he was, and just caught in the act. Live on the streets of Truro? The kid must be nuts.

            Trent knew something was up when things kept disappearing from around the house, such as flashlight, sleeping bag and pillows. Never mind the food evaporating from the fridge and freezer. Was the boy planning on feeding all of his friends?

Ever since his son joined up with the "Gladiators" Andrew discovered he didn't have to live at home anymore. As long as he didn't commit crimes or harass anyone, he was free to live with friends. After all, he was old enough and free to be his own person, according to the Youth Offender Act.

            "Okay, I'm listening." Glazed eyes were fixed on his father, but his mind was thinking of his girl, Sam. Andrew had the uncanny ability of being able to look at someone with interest, even though his mind was traveling.

            And Sam was worth moving for. She sure looked good in tight pants. And her curves were in all the right places. But that's as close to Sam as he ever got. He had to admit he was just looking. And for now, that was all right.

            "Andrew, for goodness sakes, will you please answer?"

            His father seemed to move into the picture now. Poof, Sam was turned into smoke.

Now it was just the old man in his face. Father and son stood as two statues on Queen Street. They confronted each other on the walkway of their large Victorian styled home. It used to be such a happy place where Andrew spent the last fifteen years of his life. He was thinking a cappuccino would go good now. He needed a sugar-fix.

            "I'm outta here and I'm not moving back. Gotta go." Andrew put on his most serious face, hoisted his pack and headed for the street. He was proud of himself. There was no argument like the many they used to have. It was simply, "Gotta go." Andrew thought it was best this way. Too hard trying to be a cop's son, he thought, especially with mom gone.

Now he'd do things his way.

            I’ve got to keep pop happy in front of the townsfolk. No arguments, right? And Andrew flipped his father a bird and sauntered down the street.

In a nearby alley, two skateboarder friends shared ‘high-fives’ with each other.  "Cool," they congratulated their 'main' man.

And a father called Trent Delaney, otherwise known in respected circles as Deputy-Chief Delaney watched sadly as his son sauntered away.

            The boy carried his 150 lb. frame well, showing off a physique much sought after by female street kids and, admired by the guys. The father almost smiled as his son's huge baggy backside was partially covered by an oversized muscle shirt.

The moose tattoo on his right shoulder seemed to saunter right along with him.

            Trent could almost hear jangling from a bucketful of metal things hanging from his son's ears, his head crowned with orange spikes. He even worried someday his son might break a leg with that skateboard clutched under his arm.

            Wishful thinking or what, the man wondered.

At least it would keep him home.

*

Sam's place was just down the street. It was barely far enough away for Andrew to break a sweat. Huge sneakers slapped at the pavement. He couldn't wait to see the surprise on Sam’s face.

            "What---what are you doing here?" she asked. It was hilarious.

"Har-Har" he laughed. “Like maybe I'm going to crash here."

            "So you got away from him alright," Sam said. She motioned him outside her front door. "I told you not to come to my house. You know. I’ve got my own problems here."

            But Andrew was beyond caring much about manners. Gladiators made their own rules. Although he knew he wasn't as mean and nasty as some of the other 'rogues,' he was learning how to take care of himself. 

            Sam’s driveway was lined with a variety of flowers; store bought and planted early in the season. "Oh hi, Mrs. Semple," he said putting on his most innocent smile. Sam once told him her mother said she'd rather he not come around. Too bad, he thought.

            "Hi again," Andrew said, bolder this time. Got to be cool with this grouch, he thought. She sure wasn't his number one fan.

            "Yes, what is it?" Mrs. Semple snapped back.

            "Uh, I really came to see Sam." He did want to see her and if it meant licking her mother's boots, then he'd do it.

            "Well, she's right there beside you. Guess who’s here again?" she yelled back into the house. With that statement she left both teens on the front porch and slammed the door.

            Then Andrew's girlfriend was beside him. "So you did it!” she squealed.

            "Guess so," he answered, staring at the door her mother had tried to dislodge from its frame. If Sam's mom had her way, she'd have said, "Get lost, bud." But he knew Sam was spoiled rotten. And her parents enjoyed giving her things. Somehow, Sam liked Andrew, and well---that was fine with him. She was a fox.

            "Come on in the living room and talk," she said pushing him through the door. He shifted his eyes a couple of times trying to give her a message, as he noticed Mr. and Mrs. Semple glaring at them. "Mom, I haven't seen him for two weeks and---never mind. Let's go outside then."

            "Okay, okay. We get the message," and both parents left the room, finally leaving the two of them alone.

            "I'll buzz off if you want," Andrew offered.

            "No!" Sam answered quickly, and to the point.

That's what he liked about her. She reminded him of his old man sometimes.

            He didn't dare say too much with adults nearby, or stay too long either. Besides, he didn't want anyone kidding him if they saw him coming out of her house. "Andrew's got a romance going," they'd say. "The tough guy who brags about having the girls always following him is chasing one right now."

            He couldn't handle that.

            A fast kiss on her cheek was his goodbye, for now.

            Andrew headed over to the Mac Vicar's house. There should be someone from the Gladiators hanging around about now.

            He wanted to teach them a new skateboard jump he'd been practicing.