Rita did not say a word until they were a block from the house.
Then, in a monotone she said, “This is a real mess, Danny.”
Daniel could not tell if it was an accusation or a statement of fact. Rita’s energy was such that she could spare none for inflection. Daniel tread carefully. It didn’t take much to send his mother running for her little yellow pills.
“Them Grundys were messing with Ade,” Daniel said.
“A lot of good helping him did.”
“He’s just scared.”
Daniel was surprised to find himself defending a person who’d betrayed him. A part of him wanted to go back to the previous night and help the Grundys pummel the jerk. Deep down, though, Daniel understood his friend better than most. Mrs. Lutz, who kept an immaculate home, had a passion for baking that made Sara Lee look like a slacker. The house was always warm from the oven and smelled of cookies. Mr. Lutz was jovial, a tinkerer by nature and toy model builder with the patience of Job. Their house was in order and affection flowed copiously. Life behind those walls was as soft as Adrian’s gut. Daniel took every opportunity to stay over. Unconditional affection, however, was not doled out in the real world, even when it was warranted. The world outside chez Lutz was a harsher place. Adrian squandered his energies trying to mold life into a facsimile of his home.
“You should pick your fights better,” Rita said. They pulled into the driveway. The house was looking run-down, an eyesore on the block.
“Mom…”
Rita turned off the ignition and looked at the boy. Her eyes were alien. Nothing of Daniel’s resided there.
“What?”
“Is Clyde looking for a job at the hospital?”
“Not that I know of. Why? Was he at the hospital today?”
“I thought he came for me.”
“Where did you see him? Emergency room? Was he injured?”
“He was talking to a woman. A secretary. Or something.”
Rita released a lungful in a huff and exited the car. She stormed into the house. Daniel dragged his feet going in.
The kitchen radio played “I Can See for Miles” by the Who. Rita threw dishes and cutlery onto the table, mumbling under her breath as the utensils clanged and clinked. Dinner was still at least two hours away. Rita had forgotten to retrieve her daughter from their neighbor.
“I’ll get Penny,” Daniel said.
He passed the phone, which blinked a fast red digital 4 on the display. Daniel pressed play. The hiss of an outdoor line, probably a pay phone, played for three seconds then clicked. “Message received 3:58 P.M.,” said the pseudo-feminine drone of the machine. Daniel thought he had heard a sniffle in that hiss. The second message played. This time he was sure there was crying on the other end before it clicked. “ Message received 4:07 P.M. ” The third message Danny heard a sobbing girl mumble something that sounded like his name. “ Message received 4:15 P.M. ” In the final message he recognized Katie Millar. “ Oh God Danny, Please be home. Pickuppickuppickup… Message received 4:21 P.M. ”
Daniel star-sixty-nined the call but received an earful of that terrible static that informs one the call was from “outside the class calling area.”
“Shit,” Daniel said.
The phone rang. He picked it up before it occurred to him that Clyde might be on the other end. “Hello.”
“Danny? Oh God. It’s really you.”
“Katie, what’s going on?”
“Oh Dan… oh Dan, oh Dan…” More sobbing. Daniel wondered if anyone was having a good day.
“What happened?”
“C-ca-can you c-come g-get me?” Daniel could hear her shivering through the receiver.
“Where are you?”
“Outside O’Leary’s.”
Chills marched down Daniel’s spine. His best friend, who was experiencing mortal terror, wanted him to come to the one place common sense dictated he should avoid. O’Leary’s was Clyde’s den, the place his stepfather ended up seven nights a week.
“Katie, what’s going on?”
“He’s looking for me. I can’t stay here.” Click. The line went dead. Daniel stared at the front door. His foot took a step toward it contrary to the little voice in his head telling him to stay put. From the kitchen, “Should I Stay or Should I Go” by the Clash wafted on the air. The whole day waxed ironic.
“Who was that?” Rita asked.
“Katie. Something’s wrong.”
“Something’s wrong? Can you be a little more specific?”
“She sounded scared.”
“And just like that, you’re off to the rescue? In case you didn’t get it already, you’re grounded.”
“Grounded? Clyde’s going to find out about the arrest and the lawsuit. I don’t want to be near this house when he comes home. I take enough crap here to get a lifetime pass on time-outs and groundings.”
“Watch your mouth, Danny. We put food on the table. There’s a roof over your…”
“And it gives that asshole the right to use me, to use us for punching bags?”
Rita slapped him hard. The sting lingered, his ear rang. He was alert. The whole day had been a bad dream; now he was awake. Clarity, emanating from the pain, fueled a burst of bravery.
“You let that man ruin us,” Daniel said. “I remember having a childhood. Now we live on food stamps and public assistance. Dad bought this house, and we’ll probably lose it because we can’t keep up with the mortgage. Don’t you know what people say about us? Clyde’s an alcoholic. No one wants to hire him. You’re doped on Valium half the time. I’m the one watching Penny when you’re passed out. And get this…,” Daniel could no longer hold back the flood of repressed tears, “people think I’m a delinquent. Me! I’m the delinquent even though I stand behind my friends when they’re bullied. I’m the delinquent even when I get into the hardest classes and get good grades. I’m the malcontent, when all I aspire to these days is for people to leave me the FUCK alone!”
Rita slapped him again.
“You can keep hitting me, but you don’t have the guts to tell that piece of shit Clyde to get out. You’re a fucking coward.”
Rita tried to slap him again but Daniel stepped back out of the way. He headed for the front door.
“Don’t you walk out!” Rita ordered, in tears.
Daniel was inclined to tell her that she was not his real mother. Instead, he bit his tongue. He took a deep breath.
“You didn’t hear Katie’s voice, Mom. She’s terrified. Something really bad has happened.”
“You’re not a hero! You can’t save everyone-you can’t save the world!”
“I’m not brave enough to improve my own life. Might as well help my friends with theirs. Everyone turns to me when they need help.”
“Danny! If you walk out that door… don’t come back.”
As he shut the door, the muffled cries of a desperate, lonely woman fell upon his ears.