While the teacher continued to speak, Danny slipped to Gil’s side and whispered, “Did I do good?”
“I’ll say you did.” Gil laughed.
As students began shuffling out of the auditorium, the teacher handed Danny a script and said, “I’m going to enjoy working with such talent. It’s obvious that you have a rare and wonderful gift.”
Danny goggled at Gil as the teacher moved past him. “Did you hear that?”
Gil grinned. “Which part? Rare and wonderful?”
“Yah, and talented.”
Gil watched as Danny smiled with growing confidence. After a moment he said, “Hey, how ’bout we go to the library and whip out my homework before we go to Mr. Jacobson’s?”
“You’re actually volunteering to do homework?”
“You bet,” he replied. “Maybe I can even tackle a few make-up assignments.”
“With your brains and talent, I wouldn’t put it past you.”
Danny tucked his hand inside hers. “I am brainy and talented, ain’t I?”
Feeling a soft tug on her heart, Gil nodded and said gently, “You’re something very special, Daniel Winston—never forget it.”
* * *
Feeling his bruised ego reviving under Kyle’s irreverent banter, Marc sat on a bench in front of Hawking Hall and put his hands on his knees. In the hot sunshine, his pants had finally dried. Running a hand down one leg, he began to scratch at the crusty ketchup clotting on the material.
“It’s your turn,” Kyle said. “But I’ll bet you can’t come up with a better Klutzy Crystal joke than the one I just told.”
“I could beat you without even trying,” Marc replied.
“Prove it.”
“How many Klutzy Crystals does it take to change a light bulb?”
“I don’t know. How many?”
“Two. One to drop the bulb, and one to explain that according to Schroeder’s theory her klutziness doesn’t matter. The bulb’s simultaneously broken and unbroken because when quantum superposition ends, reality collapses into one possibility or the other.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Neither does she.”
As Kyle laughed, Marc looked up and saw Crystal standing on the sidewalk staring at him. She’d obviously heard his lame joke. A guilty blush stained his cheeks.
Narrowing her eyes, Crystal said dryly, “I believe the theory you’re discussing is Schrödinger’s theory. Schroeder is the piano-playing character created by Charles Schulz.”
“Oh, really?”
She gave him a disdainful nod. “And unless you’re trying to display an astonishing amount of ignorance, you need to revise your punch line. The bulb wouldn’t exist in both states due to the termination of quantum superposition. You’re just making an idiot of yourself telling it that way.”
Gritting his teeth, Marc watched as Crystal flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked away. Turning to Kyle, he said deliberately, “It’s your turn—and make it a zinger.”
* * *
In a corner of the school library, Danny looked over at Gil and grinned. “I can’t believe how much homework we got through. You were right. When my dyspepsia—”
“Dyslexia—”
“—is helped, I’m awfully sharp.”
“You bet you are.”
As he closed his science book, Gil pointed at the clock and said, “Hey, we’d better scoot. We only have ten minutes to get to Mr. Jacobson’s.”
“Where’d the time go?” Danny asked.
“Don’t ask me,” Gil replied with a laugh. “I’m a temporal dynamics student, but that question still confuses me.”
As they walked down the empty hallway, Danny paused in front of a poster advertising the school musical. Grimacing a bit, he said, “I hope I didn’t disappoint you by not landing the role of Frederich or Kurt.”
“Why on earth would I be disappointed?” Gil asked.
“I’m only a sea captain. I probably only got two lines.”
“Danny, Captain Von Trapp’s the leading male role. Only Maria has more lines.”
“Are you serious?”
“Sure I am. Captain Von Trapp is Frederich and Kurt’s father. He falls in love with Maria and they—”
“Wait a minute,” Danny sputtered. “I fall in love with Maria?” His face took on a look of horror. “Are they gonna make me kiss her?”
“I doubt it—this is a middle school production—but you’ll probably hug her.”
“No way,” he said flatly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I’m quitting the play.”
“For heaven’s sake, why?”
“Fay Hennly is Maria. I don’t want to snuggle up with her.”
“Are you girl-shy?”
He shook his head. “Hugging any other girl wouldn’t be a problem, but Fay is awful! She cornered me in the cafeteria once and tried to kiss me.”
“I told you that you were good looking,” Gil said with a smirk.
“Look, I’m not gonna hug Fay. She gives me the creeps.”
“Just think of her as Maria.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. Acting’s only make-believe. We’ll run through your lines together until you’re comfortable with your role.”
Danny’s eyes began to twinkle. “You’ll be my Maria? I like the sound of that. I’d like to have you for my girlfriend.”
Gil gave a sputter of merry laughter. “Well, look who’s suddenly become a raving Romeo. I’m awfully flattered. If I were twenty years younger, I’d jump at your offer.”
“You’re not that old.”
Gil reached over and playfully shoved his shoulder. “Compared to you, I’m practically one of the geriatric brigade.”
As their shoes squeaked rhythmically on the newly waxed floor, Danny gave her a crooked grin. “Maybe I like older women. Did you ever think of that?”
“Maybe you’re full of beans. For two cents—”
Before Gil finished her sentence, they turned a corner and Danny ran headlong into a boy leaning up against the lockers. Recognizing Slim, Danny’s face turned white and his newfound confidence oozed out the bottom of his sneakers. Beside him, he heard Gil’s laughing voice changing into a low rumble that reminded him of an angry bumblebee.
“Been waiting for you, Danny-boy,” Slim sneered. “What took you so long?”
“Look, I don’t want any trouble.”
“I don’t care what you want. Somehow you tripped me this morning, didn’t you?”
Danny swallowed and remained silent.
“I thought so.” Slim shoved Danny up against the lockers. “You’re gonna regret messing with me.”
Suddenly, Slim’s feet went out from under him. Danny glanced over at Gil who had just tackled Slim’s legs. Danny’s lips quirked up into a grin as he mouthed silently, White-belt maneuver?
Gil nodded grimly and flexed her biceps.
“Now, you’re in for it,” Slim snarled, rolling to his feet. “No one pushes me around!”
As Danny flinched and raised his hands to protect his face, Gil grabbed Slim’s jacket and swung him to the floor. Seeing Slim blinking up at him in amazement, Danny grinned. “I think you’d better leave me alone.”
“Not a chance! When I figure out how you’re messing with me, you’re dead.” Glaring wildly, Slim sprang to his feet. Danny watched as Gil tripped him. “You’re dead meat!” Slim shouted from the floor. “You hear me?”
Scrambling on all fours, Slim dove at Danny. Gil planted her foot on his back and held him down. “How are you doing this?” Slim scowled.
“It doesn’t matter,” Danny replied. “Stay down. You can’t win this fight.”
Slim struggled to his feet and was immediately sent back to the floor. Banging his fist against a locker, he shouted, “What’s going on?”
“Do you need it spelled out? You’re through bullying me. Deal with it.”
Slim got up swinging, but Gil pushed him down. He gave a h
alf-hearted lunge at Danny, but when Gil held him down with her foot, the fight drained out of him. Seeing the change, Danny put out a hand to help him up. When Slim hesitated, he said, “No tricks, I promise. Let’s end this thing. I’d rather be your friend than your enemy.”
“Why would I be friends with you?” Slim asked in a stony voice. “You’re weird.”
“You’re even weirder, but I don’t care. I’d bet we’d get along.”
Silence fell. Keeping his hand extended, Danny quirked an eyebrow and wiggled his fingers.
“You’re definitely a weirdo,” Slim replied with a slow smile, “but maybe you’re all right.” Taking Danny’s hand, he scrambled to his feet. “Thanks.”
Danny gave an answering smile. “Don’t mention it.”
“How’d you move so fast?” Slim asked. “You’re faster than Jackie Chan.”
“You like martial art movies?”
“They’re the greatest,” Slim replied. “My pop used to watch ’em with me.”
“Maybe sometime you can come over to my house, and we can watch one.”
Slim blinked. “You’re inviting me over?”
“Sure.” Danny shrugged. “After all, stranger things have happened.”
As the boys got ready to part at the door, Slim shuffled his feet and mumbled, “Hey, Dan. I’m sorry.”
“No worries. No harm.”
Giving Danny a grin, Slim ran down the sidewalk.
“I’m so proud of you,” Gil said, speaking for the first time. “I was afraid I was gonna have to toss him inside a locker to get him to stop. How’d you know what to do?”
Danny shrugged. “I just did the opposite of what Rick would do. When Slim was on the floor, he reminded me of myself after Rick gives me a sucker punch. Maybe it was another cosmic God-thing?”
“Maybe it was. Who knows, maybe you’ll be a good influence on him.”
“I’ll just be happy if I’m not hassled by him every day.”
“So, do you think you’ll enjoy being friends with a goon?”
“I don’t think the goon exists anymore. Hopefully, all that’s left is a guy named Slim.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Danny had to run all the way to Mr. Jacobson’s, but he managed to get there right on time. As he rang the doorbell, Gil whipped a comb out of her pocket and brushed his hair.
“Hey, I’m a kid,” Danny protested, batting her hands away. “I’m supposed to look messy.”
Laughing, Gil gave his bangs one more swipe. As she pocketed the comb, she said fervently, “I’m glad no one can see me. I’ll bet my hair’s flying in all directions.”
“You’ve got that right.” He snickered, giving her a mischievous glance.
“Is it that bad?” Gil dug a mirror out of her backpack, gasped, and frantically began to comb her hair.
“I thought no one could see you?”
“You classify as someone, and I classify as someone. I’ve seen myself now, and I can’t stay in this awful condition.”
He chortled and rang the bell again.
“Danny, good to see you,” Mr. Jacobson said, opening the door.
“You too, sir. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Come in. Let me introduce you to my grandkids.”
Mr. Jacobson ushered Danny into the kitchen where two men in their mid-thirties were lounging against a counter. Next to them, an exotic-looking woman was stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce. Grabbing the nearest man by the shoulder, Mr. Jacobson said, “This here’s my grandson, Nathan. He’s the Westfield policeman I was telling you about.”
As Nathan smiled and shook Danny’s hand, Danny looked at him with an approving eye. Nathan was 6’2”, and his T-shirt did little to hide his muscles—he’d easily be a match for Rick.
“Pleased to meet you,” Nathan said. “My grandfather said you wanted to talk to me?” As Danny gave a nervous nod, Nathan said gently, “No problem. I’ll be glad to lend you an ear—even two of them.”
At his words, Danny smiled and felt a rush of relief. Before he could reply, Mr. Jacobson bustled him over to the lovely woman. “This here’s Zara, Nathan’s wife. They met when she came over from Jamaica to go to college. She’s the bee’s knees and the best cook in three counties. Our family sure won a prize when she came into it.”
“Oh, go on,” Zara said in a voice that held a delightful Jamaican accent. Taking a spoon, she scooped up some sauce and handed it to Danny. “Try some. Tell mi ef it needs anything.”
Danny popped the spoon in his mouth. “Mmm, that’s good! All it needs is noodles.”
Zara chuckled and hugged his shoulders. “Wise mon, yuh be right ’bout de noodles.”
As Danny put the spoon in the sink, Mr. Jacobson drew him over to the other man. “This is my grandson, Samuel. He’s a black belt. He lives down the block and pastors the church across from your school.”
Samuel shook Danny’s hand and said with a smile, “Call me Sam, Samuel’s too formal between friends.”
As Danny nodded, he studied the big, strong man—he never would’ve guessed Sam was a preacher. The only preacher he’d ever known was Reverend Felder, a wispy old man who tottered as he walked. He’d always been secretly afraid that a brisk wind would blow Felder away. Sam didn’t look like Felder at all. He looked like he could stand in the face of a hurricane. Mr. Jacobson sure grows his grandsons big, Danny thought as he gave Sam’s muscles an admiring glance.
Sam’s blue eyes began to twinkle. “Do I pass inspection?”
Realizing he’d been caught staring, but also that it was okay, Danny grinned. “You sure do. How ’bout me?”
“Truthfully, I like the look of you. You have an honest face. I’m glad we’re gonna get to know one another.”
“Me too,” Danny said—a bit more fervently than he intended. Hearing the note of desperation in his voice, he bit his lip and lowered his gaze.
Sam clasped his shoulder. Danny looked up and studied his face. Sam’s eyes were so sympathetic that he suddenly wanted to tell the preacher all of his troubles, but there was no time. Even as he opened his mouth, Zara bustled the men out of the kitchen, telling them to set the table while she put the garlic bread in the oven.
As the men went to work, Mr. Jacobson took a stack of plates from the china hutch and said, “Now, Danny, can you talk to Nathan while Sam and I are in the room, or do you need some privacy?”
Danny looked over at Gil, and seeing her silent prompting, he replied, “I don’t mind talking in front of you.”
Nathan motioned for the boy to sit beside him. “In that case, tell me what’s wrong.”
As Danny fidgeted and struggled to find the right words, Sam said gently, “Just take it slow and tell us how we can help.”
“Is it that Rick fellow?” Mr. Jacobson asked, plunking down plates in an agitated fashion. “I never liked the look of him. Why does your momma let him hang around?”
“He watches me after school,” Danny replied in a hollow voice.
Placing his hands on the table and leaning forward, Mr. Jacobson asked, “Is he bothering you?”
Danny nodded, and his words began to tumble out in a rush. “He hits me. He’s really mean. Mom didn’t know until this morning ’cause I didn’t tell her. She works at Stubby’s Diner and she’s gonna tell Rick tomorrow that he can’t come over anymore. I’m afraid he’s gonna get mad and hurt us.”
As Sam sat down beside him, Danny continued, gulping a little over his words, “Dad died, so it’s just us at home. Could one of you be at our house tomorrow when school lets out?” His eyes pleaded with Sam and Nathan. “I don’t know how to explain, but it’s important. I’m learning how to cook. I’ll make supper. We have a TV. You could watch a football game...please...I mean, if you can?”
Danny’s stumbling words came to a halt. Silence filled the room. He watched as Sam and Nathan looked at each other and then seemed to come to a decision. “If you feel so strongly about it,” Sam said, “we’ll make sure it happens.”
“What time do you want us?” Nathan asked.
Danny let out a deep sigh. He felt so relieved that tears filled his eyes. “I get home at 3:15. Rick usually comes at 3:30.”
Sam nodded. “One of us—or both of us—will be waiting on Grandpop’s porch. When we see you, we’ll walk you home and stay with you. Okay?”
“That’s better than okay. Thanks so much!”
“You see?” Mr. Jacobson said. “I told you my boys could help. Now, how are you and your momma gonna replace Rick?”
Danny licked his lips. “Today, I got a part in the school musical. Between rehearsals and studying at the library, I can stay at school until 6:00. The problem will be when Mom works late at the hospital. Sometimes she doesn’t get home until after midnight.”
“I thought you said your mom worked as a waitress at Stubby’s?” Sam said.
“She works both places. When Daddy was sick, his treatments cost lots of money.”
“It’s been pretty rough, hasn’t it?” Sam said with a face full of sympathy. “You know, my church hosts an after-school program. If you want to come when your mom works, I’ll walk you home afterwards and stay with you until she arrives. Does that sound good?”
“It sure does,” Danny replied, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
“When can we talk with your mother? She may’ve made other arrangements.”
“She’s gonna get me around 7:30.”
“That’s perfect,” Mr. Jacobson said, slapping his knee. “We’ll get everything squared away tonight.” Pursing his lips, he said, “You know, Danny, there’s someone else who can help you besides us. John 3:16 says God loves you so much He sent His Son to die for your sins. If He loves you that much, don’t you think He loves you enough to help with Rick?”
As Danny slowly nodded, Sam asked gently, “What do you know about God?”
“Well, when I was little, we used to go to church. When Daddy got too sick to go, he’d lay on the couch and read me Bible stories about Jesus.”
“Have you asked Jesus to forgive your sins and come into your heart?”
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