“The principal called about some desks yesterday,” Rita said.
“Yeah. Clyde already discussed it with me.”
Rita turned and looked at him with that strange interest in trivial things one has when stirred by emotions for which one cannot find expression.
“Five hundred dollars is a lot of money,” she said. “You know your father’s out of work.”
“Can’t find a job, huh?” Daniel stressed.
Rita directed an agitated nod to the staircase and relaxed only when she confirmed it was vacant.
“Don’t talk like that,” she snapped. “I swear, Danny … you bring things on yourself. Don’t write on the tables, don’t sass your teachers … just don’t do anything.”
“I could sit in a closet all day.”
“Clyde’s trying.”
“He’s a short anchor and we’re a leaky rowboat, Mom.”
Rita glanced at the stairs again.
“When was the last time Clyde rolled out of bed before eleven o’clock?”
“You ought to be a little more grateful.”
“How can I? I remember Dad. Clyde doesn’t measure up.”
“Right, it’s all my fault,” Rita shot back.
“No, I didn’t mean…” Daniel regretted setting her in motion, something he knew better than to do.
“You think I planned to be a widow at thirty-three? Think it’s easy starting over, alone, with a young child?”
He’d heard Rita’s lament a dozen times, her shield against her own poor decisions. Daniel was only eight when Rita married Clyde. Too young to have a clue about his future stepfather’s alcoholic and abusive nature. The truth that Rita never owned up to was that it was her fault; she had surrendered to loneliness.
“Mom…” She was shaking, and true to form, would soon be prying the cap off a bottle of mother’s little helpers. Disturbed by the argument, Penny looked ready to bawl. Mr. Biggles lay on the floor by her high chair. Daniel picked it up and shook it before her with a smile. She grabbed the bear and squeezed it like a life preserver.
“We’ve got a roof over our heads,” Rita continued. “There’s food on the table…”
Yeah, thanks to me, Daniel thought.
“If you don’t like it here, you can join the Marines. I’ll sign the papers.”
“Mom…”
Rita headed toward the stairs in a huff and stopped short of ascending. She stared at the top landing, then around the room, looking trapped where she stood. Her drugs were in the bedroom.
“I’m doing laundry,” she said and headed for the basement. “You got anything needs washing?”
It was an innocent question, but it stung like a wasp. “In the hamper.”
Penny, who wore as much food as she’d eaten, banged the table with a spoon. She moved her face around playfully as Daniel tried to wipe it with a napkin. “You need to change your clothes,” he said.
“No,” she giggled.
“No? That’s a pretty powerful word for such a small girl.”
“No.”
“And you need to take a bath.”
“No,” she said again. She was in a good mood, just giving the word a test drive as she determined the limits of her power.
“Give me a kiss,” Daniel said.
“No.” She shook her head until it became a blur.
“Please.”
“No.”
“How about a hug?”
Penny gave Mr. Biggles a bear hug and thrashed side to side like she would love him to death.
“Not Biggles … me,” he said.
“No,” she said.
Daniel stopped coaxing. The toy glared at him, locked within Penny’s arms. It disturbed him that he envied the bear.
2
Someone had replaced Daniel’s desk in Algebra. On close inspection, though, Daniel realized it was his old desk after all. The top had been sanded down and restained with two coats of varnish. It was a half-assed, sloppy job. He could still see some remnants of the old grooves from his drawings. There weren’t going to be any new desks. The realization gnawed at his gut. He could have refurbished all the desks himself for less than fifty dollars.
Katie Millar sat next to him. It was the only class they shared this year, an unexpected result of Daniel having gotten into many advanced courses. Fortunately, he sucked at math.
Katie wore a white turtleneck, but it couldn’t completely hide the purple blotch that adorned her neck this morning. His heart sank at the thought of her with Josh; a spoiled, rich brat who probably had more than one girl and didn’t care for any of them. Daniel daydreamed about the purple welts Katie could give him instead of the ones he drew from Clyde.
“I heard about your fight with the Grundys,” Katie said. “Looks like they gave as good as they got.”
“They never laid a hand on me.”
“That’s not what they said. Besides, you’re wearing the evidence.”
“This came from Clyde.”
“Oh,” she said. Katie turned away and searched for the day’s lesson in her textbook.
Once, Katie was Daniel’s Rock of Gibraltar. After one of Clyde’s tirades, they’d lie against the trunk of a willow, his head on her lap, and she stroked his hair while he imagined himself in another life. It’d been months since they last did that. She was under pressure from her parents not to associate with him outside of school anymore. Clyde had worked for her father at the meat plant until he had been caught stealing prime cuts by the caseload for black market sales. It was as a favor to Daniel on behalf of his daughter that Mr. Millar did not press charges on Clyde. As an adopted child, Daniel had no traceable pedigree and everyone soon realized his legal guardians were trash badly masked by a single coat of whitewash. As the semester moved on, Katie withdrew her emotional attachment, as though Daniel might sully her with his bad fortune. A vacuum had emerged that made the day-to-day harder to bear than ever before. Adrian was a good friend but had no strength to lend him. If Daniel was to survive, he had to find untapped reserves of his own to draw upon. His universe was closing in on him.
Mr. Napolitano walked in and began handing out the morning’s quiz, which Daniel had forgotten to study for.
“Mr. Hauer, your presence has been requested at the principal’s office,” the teacher said as he approached.
What now? Daniel thought. He collected his books and stood.
“No, take the quiz first,” Napolitano said. “It should only take ten minutes if you know the material.”
3
Conklin’s secretary, Lacy McKnight, had taken a liking to Daniel. She told him he reminded her of her baby brother. Unlike the other delinquents who’d spent time in front of her desk, Daniel found her a pleasant presence in a school full of antagonists. She was powerless to change school policy or suspend detention, but would often sneak him cookies and tell him about the latest escapades of her little brother who was in the Navy and stationed in Italy. That someone was standing in his corner made the trip to Conklin’s easier to bear. Ms. McKnight treated him like family. Daniel would be sure to include her in his Oscar acceptance speech for Best Animated Short. Noticeably missing from the acknowledgments would be Clyde and Rita. Missing today was the jovial smile Lacy always greeted him with, an understanding that no matter what he did it was small potatoes in the world of great events and that everything would be okay no matter how much Conklin blustered. She shot Daniel a worried look as he approached. Daniel half felt he should turn around and run for his life. Raised voices emanated from the principal’s office.
“Look at you,” she said with a trace of mother hen.
“I’ll be fine.”
Lacy shook her head. “Go in.”
Conklin was talking to Jim Grundy and Darlene Lebeaux, his nemeses’ parents, and the local sheriff, Ed Maher, who wore his hat and sunglasses indoors and was, coincidently, the principal’s third cousin. Mr. Grundy had yet to reach thirty-five, but looked like he was pushing fifty. He wore a few
days’ growth on his face and his emaciated thinness was emphasized by the stringy mullet he chose for his coif. Darlene was slightly older, but had a body as nubile as a woman half her age, which she tried to contain in the miniskirt she pulled on constantly because it was one size too small. Darlene was legendary among the boys in town. It was rumored that once a year she picked a graduate headed for military service and gave him a poke for good luck behind the strip club where she danced.
The parents sat on the couch, facing a chair reserved for Daniel. Conklin sat to his left, the sheriff to his right. Daniel realized he was on trial. Somehow, in the middle of this whole mess, Daniel had the wherewithal to realize that Darlene wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“S’that the little fucker?” Jim Grundy asked. “Sure’s hell took you long enough.”
“I had a test. Why am I here?”
“Why…? You whupped my boys!” Darlene said.
“There, there, Darlene,” Conklin said. He reached forward and patted her on the thigh. “Don’t get excited.”
“They attacked us,” Daniel said.
Conklin gave him a skeptical look. “Did you walk away from a conversation the Grundy boys were having with Adrian Lutz and then come back with a two-by-four post, which you then attacked them with?” he asked.
Reality had become skewed with that interpretation. A placid mood suddenly befell Daniel, like a shore when the tide withdraws before the onslaught of a tsunami. Daniel retreated to his mental battlement and took up arms. “Only if by conversation you mean Tony Soprano chatting with someone who’s late on a payment.”
Sheriff Maher chuckled.
“Smart-ass,” Grundy said.
“Look, none of this happened during school time or on school property,” Daniel added.
“The Grundys are planning a civil suit against you and your parents,” Conklin said. “They came here to talk to Adrian, and to get your personal information. I called this meeting because I am disturbed by this incident, Daniel. This school has adopted a zero-tolerance policy. Certain behaviors have to be noted in this day and age, as the incident at Columbine clearly demonstrated. I have decided to suspend you until such time as we can determine whether expulsion is appropriate. It’s for the safety of the other students.”
Daniel only half heard what came after “civil suit” and “parents.” He was numb. Clyde was already in a frenzy over the desks. “This is ridiculous,” he said. He couldn’t contain the quiver in his voice. “I am not a bully. Adrian will back me up.”
The parents and Conklin looked at each other. Darlene shifted her legs and Daniel caught a peek of her shaved privates, which he was in no position to truly appreciate at that moment. The four adults said nothing.
“What?” Daniel asked.
“Adrian has stated that the Grundy boys are friends and that they were only horsing around,” the sheriff said. “You know, joshing him … nothing serious.”
The battlement took a hit. Someone brought a trebuchet to a sword fight. Daniel’s innards sloughed down to the bottom of his gut; he was light-headed. A hundred thoughts flashed across his mind in anarchy, and he struggled to relate to what was happening right now. His friend Adrian was a coward who feared the Grundys coming after him when he wasn’t around. Daniel pulled what wits he had left and said, “But, he was crying.”
“He was laughing…,” Darlene retorted. “You overreacted. Now my poor baby needs new teeth.”
“Adrian was screaming because your goons were—”
“That’s enough,” Conklin cut in. “Darlene, Mr. Grundy, we’ll handle things from here.”
On the way out, Jim Grundy shot Daniel a look that reminded him of Clyde. Darlene’s glance made it clear Daniel would never get a poke, even if he won the medal of honor.
“Ed?” the principal said.
The sheriff didn’t look happy. “Don’t much like the direction of this, Roscoe. Boys will be boys. We all got into scraps when we was young. And them Grundy boys ain’t exactly angels.”
“When we was young, students didn’t blow away their teachers and schoolmates with AK-47s. These are different times. Ed, bottom line, the boy assaulted two people with a deadly instrument. Are you gonna do your job or not?”
The sheriff put his large hand on Daniel’s shoulder and patted him up. “Let’s go, son. We’ll go to the hospital first and check your injuries.”
As they walked out, Lacy looked on the verge of tears. A cell was probably the safer place to be. It was when Clyde showed up to bail him out that concerned Daniel. Clyde would kill him over this.
The period bell rang; just in time for the whole school to come out and watch Daniel get escorted to jail.
CHAPTER 11
“HONEY, I’M GAY” WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE
1
“Jesus Christ, Cal, she’s pumped us full of psychotropic drugs or something,” Cat MacDonnell said. They sat opposite each other at the kitchen table, squared off like gunfighters at a high-stakes poker game. Cat’s second mug of Irish coffee quivered in her hand. The woman Cal considered as solid as they come was one snowflake short of an avalanche. It pained him to see her like this.
On the other hand, another part of him felt better than it had in more than thirteen years. It was the first day of spring, and a window in his mind had been opened. Memories, like the scent of spring’s first blossom, blew in on the breeze feeling both familiar and new. At the same time, any joy was countered by the seriousness of his failure to conduct his assigned mission.
It was 6:00 A.M., the sun was just breaking the horizon. Seth was dozing in the corner with an empty beer can in his hand, and Lelani was playing with Bree in the living room.
“You don’t really believe you’re some sort of knight from a feudal world?” Cat continued.
“Cat…”
“Erin is dead! Your career is in jeopardy. People are trying to kill us … there’s no time for this fantasy shit!”
“Cat, your language…”
“Fuck my language! I always cuss when I’m high!”
“Cat, we’re not on drugs.”
Bree squealed as Lelani gave her a trot around the apartment.
“You get the hell off that thing this minute, Brianna MacDonnell!” Cat shouted.
“Please don’t call her a ‘thing,’” Cal said. “Centaurs are extremely proud. We owe her our lives.”
“I don’t know who you are,” Cat said to her husband.
Lelani helped Bree down and stood in the corner with her arms folded.
“I’m Cal MacDonnell—husband, father, son, cop. None of those things has changed.”
“Some trick,” Seth said from the couch. “Breaking up a happy family usually involves drugs, greed, alcohol, or infidelity. She does it all by pulling a rabbit out of a hat; or rather, a horse’s ass.”
His wife’s eyes, which Cal had gazed into a dozen times over, were surrounded by webs of crimson fatigue as they searched for a clue to his thoughts. The very structure of reality—time and space, God and science—had been thrown into flux. It wasn’t just the attack or the craziness, Cal realized. The obvious was right there before him. His wife wasn’t sure if there was a future for her in his new and former past. The confidence to handle anything life threw at her, which indelibly defined Cat, was shaken to its core. Cal had mistaken anxiety for anger.
He took Cat’s hands into his own and rubbed them gently. “This doesn’t change how I feel about you,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” He hoped he sounded more sure than he felt. “Whatever the future brings, we’ll do it together.”
“Is that wise?” Lelani asked. “Consider your obligations.”
“Queen of Tact strikes again,” Seth said from his corner, still half asleep.
“Is what wise?” Cat asked.
“You. Shut up,” Cal told Seth. “This whole mess is your fault.”
“My fault?” Seth asked, coming full awake. “How the hell can this be my fault?”
“I don’t remember any of this sci-fi shit!” Seth insisted.
“Well, I remember you. A pain in the ass.”
“Hey man, I may be an ass sometimes, but I didn’t cause your problems. Don’t lay the blame at my feet. I’m a second away from walking out of here and forgetting this crap ever happened.”
“You wouldn’t last a day on your own,” Lelani said.
“What did she mean, Cal? Is what wise?” Cat repeated.
Cal glared at Lelani, a reminder that she was his subordinate.
“I only meant that the road ahead is rife with danger,” Lelani responded. “It might be wiser to put you and the girl somewhere safe.”
“This is my family. I’m not getting ‘put’ anywhere,” Cat said.
“You can stay with your mom for a few days,” Cal suggested.
“I’m staying with you.”
“Cat…”
“I’m staying with you. Case closed.”
A high scream broke out from Bree’s bedroom. The door was ajar when it should have been shut. Lelani vaulted the couch and reached the room before anyone else. Cal hobbled as quickly as he could. He still had a little vertigo but wasn’t sure if it was because of the injuries or the spell. Bree was sitting on the floor crying with her arms around Maggie. The dog’s neck twisted at a disturbing angle. Blood trickled from her mouth.
“Maggie needs a doctor,” Bree wailed.
Cat lifted Bree and let the girl bury her face in her neck. “Maggie was very brave,” she told her daughter. Cat rubbed Bree’s back and made a shushing noise. She cast Lelani a resentful glance as she carried her daughter out of the room.
“Sorry about that,” Cal said. “We really do appreciate your help.”
A radio and car doors shutting sounded from the street.
Through Bree’s window, Cal spied his lieutenant and the precinct chaplain tapping on the cruiser parked below to wake the cops that “dozed off” while on guard duty. They’d be put on report. How much did the cops remember? Maybe Cal could tell the chief they were gassed. How did that fit into the big picture?
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