Run Danny Run (Chap. 8)

CHAPTER EIGHT

At the campground, Walt stirred in his sleeping bag, stretched, then sat up and looked around with tired eyes. Suddenly he remembered where he was. His leg and right side felt chilly as he felt where the zipper had slid down. Must be time to fix or replace the sleeping bag, he wondered. Something woke him up. What?

            Dad said to try and keep snuggled up as if in a cocoon. And that’s exactly what he was trying to do. The last remnant of his dream had him camping---like now. He was so excited, because he loved to get out in the woods. He drifted back into a dreamy peacefulness. 

In his dream he imagined himself getting up and going out into the night air. It had been rather warm in the tent trailer.

            He needed to relieve himself and it was so good to relax under the stars by the side of a lake. A warm feeling began to press against his leg. In his dream he moved slowly towards the nearest tree. He could feel the tightness in his bladder as liquid prepared to surge forth.

            "Oh, no." Sudden realization made Walt jump fully awake and skitter out of his moistened sleeping bag. His barefooted rush took him, from the trailer, across the damp ground to the nearest tree where he finished peeing. It would have been terrible if he had really let it all out in his sleeping bag.

            What a way to have begun his holidays.

            Memories of being called "piss-pants" shuddered through him. It was only last year he was finally able to have enough discipline to control his bladder. His embarrassing problem seemed to evaporate when he knew for sure he had a dad again. Larry was the only one he could talk to about his situation.

            "Walt?" Mom's voice wafted through the open door from the hardtop trailer. "Are you coming back in?"

            It was getting cold outside dressed in pajamas. Walt walked gingerly across the dewy ground covered in what felt like miniature boulders. Both feet longed for a return to his warm sleeping bag. As he peeked in he noticed mom up on her elbows looking around. She sure looked funny with her hair all mussed up.

            "It's me," he answered.

            "I know it's you. Next time, please shut the door. Chilly in the morning, you know. You’re not at home now."

            "But, I was in a real hurry mom."

            "Did you?"

            "No I didn't. A real close one though. I was dreaming I was already outside beside a tree and..."

            "What's that? A tree?" piped up Susan.

            "Sssh, you'll wake your father," Anne motioned with her hand.

            "What are you talking about?" Susan persisted rather loudly.

            "None of your beeswax," Walt said, quickly cutting her off.

            "Is it a secret, mommy?

            "No dear, just a chat. Walt ---are you coming in?"

            "Yeah. I better, or I'll freeze my butt off."

            "Mom? Walt said a bad word."

            "Butt. Butt." Walt repeated.

            "I suppose by now your father is awake, with this entire racket. You two make more commotion than a pack of coyotes." 

            "I heard them last night," Larry piped up from under a bundle of blankets. "While I was laying on my butt," he chuckled. It was a hoot listening to your family on their first day of vacation. Welcome to the great outdoors. "Come on Walt, crawl back in. Much too early to get up right now, remember, we're on holidays."

            "What time is it, mom?" Susan asked.

            "I think mom's already asleep," whispered Walt. He pulled his sleeping bag over beside his dad and snuggled in close. Everything was okay now, only some wetness inside but not enough for anyone to notice.

            "Hey leave some place for me," Susan whined. Today she was slow getting up so she could cuddle up beside mom and dad. Walt acted too quickly.

            Anne lay silently, pretending to be asleep, and also basking in the warmth of her family. It was so nice to be whole again. There were too many nights being alone while her husband was off on his quest. Thank goodness we're getting a rest from all of that, she pondered. Anne pressed in closer to get some of her husband’s warmth.

            She drifted off into another world where the trees were short enough she could see over them. Anne was used to jokes about her shortness at 5' 2". In her dreams mosquitoes were nonexistent, and fairies came out of the woods and cooked each meal.

            It was a time of bliss, at least for now.

            And to think, there was a whole week of this.                      

 

Earlier this very same morning, a sound had disturbed Danny. It sure was different being here in Truro. In fact the house seemed rather small compared to the one owned by the Lapointes. And their hobby farm must have at least 15-20 acres.

            In the rural area, near Lunenburg where he had lived, sounds in the night were quite different. Wind and lightning mingled with owls and early morning tractors.

It was quiet here, at least until the sound of a siren went by. Police? Ambulance? Danny wasn't sure.

            The sound that awakened him must be from the cat. And yet it was more like a tapping. His stocking feet slid noiselessly onto the hardwood floor. He tiptoed to the window, peering through the blinds, annoyed at the intrusion.

            It was the first time in two days he had been able to rest. Staying up all night hitchhiking from Lunenburg to Truro was tiresome. Now he needed every opportunity to sleep.

            Danny discovered a large branch was the reason for the ruckus. It was being pushed by a restless wind causing it to scrape against pane and vinyl. He wished he had a hatchet or hand saw. Then he could go outside, climb the tree and cut off the offending problem.  Maybe even throw a stick of dynamite at it.

Can't snooze around here with that racket. He gave the wall a kick, fists clenching and unclenching. He hated it when his sleep was disturbed.

            Cold feet coaxed him back to his temporary bed. A thought nagging at his mind pointed him downstairs. Something he noticed when he first arrived had to be checked out.

            Moon-glare shone through the window and landed on a family picture hanging in the living room. It must be same one he had seen earlier. Danny didn't dare turn on an inside light, or even use his flashlight.

Inside the darkened room, he could barely make out features of a man, woman and three children. There were two boys and a girl. The adults must be their parents. A familiar looking face stared back at him and recognition flooded across his face.

            It was like a wake-up slap that caught his immediate attention. A painful feeling worked its way up his side. The sensation caused him to search that face more thoroughly. The man’s similar nose construction and high cheekbones seemed to look directly at him. Almost like saying, "Hi Danny, finally we get to meet. I'm your father."

            It’s him.

            After all this time, that's what he looks like.

            The boy reached up, grabbed the large framed photo and sent it crashing against the wall. Balled fists rubbed harshly against his bare legs. "I hate you, forever," he muttered as he headed back upstairs.

Just maybe he'll catch some Zed’s this time.

            And fourteen year old Danny dreams about a dad he never met.

*

And not so far away, Larry also dreams. Perhaps there is a bond of unsettling spirits between Danny and himself. A boy searches for memory from the depths of anger. And a man seeks answers from his past.

*

Andrew Delaney was having a ball skate boarding on the asphalt beside Truro Legion Stadium. The space had been provided by the town's Department of Recreation. Several park benches and garbage receptacles were also donated.

            Other groups of skateboarders had pitched in and built several wooden ramps. Some of the angles were quite steep and novices trying them were literally putting their physical health at risk.

            Right now an audience of young children, a dozen skateboarders and Sam cheered Andrew on. He felt the sun's warmth on his back as he flipped and dipped with what looked like impossible moves.

            This is what he lived for. The cheers, the clapping and a huge smile from Sam.

Besides, everyone liked his orange dyed hair.

            Not far away, Deputy-Chief Trent Delaney watched from his unmarked patrol car. He had another meeting but needed to see his son for a few moments. Andrew hadn't phoned home lately nor even visited his father.

            Trent hated to head home after his day’s work was finished. There wasn’t much to go home to anymore. In spite of his son's looks and behavior, the boy was still his son. And he was loved very much. But, how to convince him to come home where he belonged?   

            Trent sure missed him.