Summer Before Freshman Year
The last day of eighth grade is the day Dan's mother dies, killed in a car accident by a reckless driver. That night, he's placed in a temporary foster home, as his father is overseas with the military. And that night, he departs from Paterson, New Jersey for New York City. In hindsight it's a remarkably naïve of him—he's never lived there, only visited for day trips with his school or parents, but the energy of the city entrances him, lures him in. In books and movies, protagonists are always pulled away from their mundane lives and swept up into an adventure. Why shouldn't Dan have his chance? The city will be an exciting place to live until his father returns home.
However, money is an object. Less than a week into his city sojourn, he's arrested (though never charged) for stealing a loaf of bread. Privately, he suspects the lack of further legal action is not due to mercy on behalf of the shopkeeper, but mismanagement on behalf of the foster care system by forgetting where he's been placed. Confounding the matter further is that his social worker was apparently switched, and no one seems to know who will be taking his case. His second pair of foster parents, Laurell and Jon Dowd, are by far the most clueless of all, but then, Dan suspects the haze of smoke constantly surrounding them is substantially more illicit than just marijuana.
A teenage girl, another foster kid named Rafaela, also lives in the home. She's tall, slim, and pretty, with expressive dark eyes that can't quite hide a tired resignation. "My eighteenth birthday is the first week of September," she tells Dan after he introduces himself. "I'll be gone by the end of the summer."
"Won't anyone come looking for you?" Dan questions.
Rafaela shrugs. "If you run away a few days before you age out, no one's going to care. It saves the agency the trouble of forcing you to leave. I'm not going to stick around long enough for them to kick me out onto the street."
"But where will you go?" Dan persists.
"I've got something worked out," Rafaela tells him vaguely.
When she offers no further information, an awkward silence ensues, so Dan switches topics. "The man from the agency who dropped me off mentioned there's supposed to be another kid here. Who's that?"
An odd expression crosses Rafaela's face. "Look, honeybunch, here's the thing. You want to get by in this house, you don't ask that many questions. People come, and people go. That's it, all right?"
"Um . . . all right," Dan replies uncertainly.
"Good." Rafaela digs around for a moment in her purse, which Dan can't help but notice looks like it's from an expensive brand, before withdrawing a business card. "We're in this together, so we got to look out for each other. If you need me, that's my number on the back. If you really need me, try the number at the front."
"Thanks." Dan accepts the card.
"A few tips for survival around here, hon." Rafaela taps her heel nervously on the wood floor. "This is Hell's Kitchen. You know that saying about never taking candy from a stranger? That goes double here. And if somebody is making you nervous, even if they're in this house, even if you can't figure out why? You get away from them. You leave, no questions asked. A lot of people are going to take advantage of you when they realize you don't have any parents—"
"I have a father," Dan interjects.
Rafaela continues as though he hasn't spoken. "—don't let them do that. If you need to get away from someone, just kick them in the groin and run." She looks meaningfully at Dan. "That includes people in this house. And by the way, in case you haven't figured it out yet, Laurell and John spend most of their time cracked out. Do your best to avoid them. Don't spend too much time here—no more than eight hours at a time. Not even if you're sleeping. I got places where I go. I can show you them, if you want."
Though overwhelmed from the amount of warnings, Dan manages to nod. "Sure. Why not?"
As it happens, Rafaela knows all kinds of people and can get into all types of different places— restaurants, cafes, and clubs. If she doesn't know the person working the door, then she has a name she can drop to gain entry. And once she's through the door, she's welcomed with shouts and greetings from all over the venue. Usually, she sashays off into the crowd, leaving Dan on his own, and that's how Dan meets Luth.
They're at some party, in an empty house that's up for sale. Dan has barely followed Rafaela through the door when someone forcefully shoves against him, knocking him off balance and down to the ground.
"Sorry about that," a deep voice says, and a hand grasps his upper arm and pulls him upright.
Dan looks up to find a tall, muscular teen standing before him.
"Thanks," Dan says shortly, reaching across his chest to pry the teen's fingers from his bicep.
"Oh, sorry." But the voice isn't sincere, and the look in the older teen's dark eyes is even less so. "Let me introduce myself. My name's Justin Luther, but you can call me Luth. I'll be a senior at Lawrence Academy this fall."
He holds out his hand, and Dan accepts it warily, but doesn't offer any introduction.
"I noticed you right away, you know," Luth tells him. "How could I not? You just look so much like me." There's a note to his voice that unsettles Dan. "I've seen you around a few times, always with Rafaela. Is she a friend of yours?"
"We live in the same foster home," Dan responds cautiously.
Luth smirks. "And you figure going out is better than staying in, hmm?"
"What can I say? I like the fresh air," Dan replies, an edge creeping into his voice. He can't explain why, but something about Luth unsettles him.
"I like it, too." Luth leans in closer to Dan. "So what do you say we get outta this place and go to where there is some?"
Though he doesn't trust Luth at all, Dan considers his options. During the past few nights, he's had more than enough loud music and shouting, and besides, he's tired and wants to escape to somewhere else for a little while.
"All right," he concedes to Luth. "Take me wherever you want to go."
And Luth does. They jump into Luth's sports car and speed off into the night, to restaurants and shops where Luth waves around his parents' credit card and tries to impress Dan. While underwhelmed by the display, Dan is a firm believer in it's the thought that counts. At one point, when Dan stops to admire some shoes on display, Luth buys them for him without a second thought. To be honest, the shoes are fairly ridiculous—black snakeskin cowboy boots studded with bits of silver and turquoise. But it's a welcome change for someone to be thinking of Dan, to want to give him gifts, to want his approval and attention.
That night sets the tone for the rest of the summer. The only child of wealthy parents, Luth enjoys an existence that's carefree to the point of hedonistic, and, since Dan is tagging along, so does he. Luth does what he wants when the urge strikes, goes wherever he wants because he has the means, and buys whatever whenever, because money has never not been available to him. Oftentimes, Dan finds himself receiving purchases from Luth's careless spending, and while he can't deny that he's flattered, in the back of his mind, he's always wondering what price Luth expects him to pay. For the time, though, Dan is content to let Luth finance his meals as well as clothing and, given Rafaela's warnings about the Dowds, also provide him with shelter.
Like Rafaela, Luth knows people. People on college campuses, people in hotels, people hosting parties, people in luxurious apartments, and people in run-down apartments. He seems to have byzantine connections that span across all neighborhoods and social classes. Luth never seems to need a break or to take some downtime from the constant movement of his lifestyle; after crashing for a few hours on someone's couch, or in a spare bedroom or hotel room, he's raving and raring to start all over again.
At least some of Luth's manic energy is explained when Luth drags Dan along with him to Jake's Hamburger Place, a seedy restaurant that looks like it hasn't been thoroughly cleaned since its inception in the fifties. There, Dan lingers by the door as a lookout while Luth goes to a back table already occupied by several other individuals. Few words are spoken before Luth removes several bills from his pocket, pushing them forward on the table in exchange for a plastic bag that's quickly accepted and hidden from sight. Luth then switches tables, again going to a booth with occupants, this time waving Dan over and making introductions.
As the summer days wear on, Dan begins to notice the more irrational, temperamental aspects of Luth's personality. Whether he's become more alert to Luth's faults after realizing his drug use, or because Luth's habit is escalating, the honeymoon is over.
On a muggy night just before August ends, Dan is more than exasperated with Luth's behavior—they're currently stuck in traffic, and Luth is cursing up a storm, honking the horn of his Mustang for all it's worth. A new spike of irritation stabs Dan with each profanity spewed, and he finds himself grinding his teeth. Not helping Dan's mood is Rafaela's sudden disappearance—she's departed from the Dowd home without a trace left behind, just as she said she would. The only way he manages to keep his temper in check is by reminding himself that drug users are unpredictable and violent people.
"Take me home, Luth," Dan orders him testily.
For a moment, Luth doesn't seem to hear him, completely occupied with making a nuisance of himself. But then he whirls to face Dan. "What?" he demands.
"Take. Me. Home." Dan grits out.
Luth lunges forward and grabs Dan's wrist. "You're not going anywhere," he hisses.
All his life, Dan's considered himself more reactive than active, and this instance is no exception. Determined to escape Luth's grip, he reaches out with his free hand, yanks Luth's head forward, soundly smashes his own forehead against Luth's nose. With a howl, Luth lurches back, and Dan doesn't waste the opportunity to throw the door open and sprint outside into the still, snaking lines of traffic.
For the first time since his arrival, Dan spends the night in his attic room at the Dowds'. The space is sweltering due to the lack of air-conditioning, but Dan doesn't care; he's not going to sleep tonight, anyway. Every time he closes his eyes, Luth's eyes glare at him in fury, his face twisting into something ugly.
Why the incident upsets him remains unclear to Dan. It's definitely not even on the top ten list of terrible events that have happened since he entered the Dowd household.
But Dan can't sleep at all that night, the sequence flashing through his mind over and over.
In the next few days, Luth is conspicuously absent. He fails to make an appearance to pick up Dan from the Hamiltons, and none of the regulars at his familiar haunts have either seen or heard from him. Privately, Dan thinks this development is for the best, even though he can't ignore a lingering sense of guilt and foreboding.
Fall, Freshman Year
With his main source of survival having vanished and Rafaela long gone, there's nothing left for Dan in New York City. He packs his bags and ships off back to Jersey, where he can go to wait for his father.
Unfortunately, through his own misunderstanding of the bus routes, Dan ends up in Pennsylvania. Unable to ask any type of adult for help due to his status as a runaway, Dan is forced to attempt to resolve the situation himself. His efforts lead him to Delaware, where authorities locate him and place him into yet another foster home, a farm operated by a family known as the Sleins.
A warning accompanies this placement: he's a twice runaway at this point, and he'll be out with three strikes and sent to a juvenile detention facility. The ruling seems harsh to Dan, but he supposes that as far as the adults are concerned, he's living off the taxpayers' dime in either foster care or juvenile prison, so it doesn't make a difference to them where he goes.
The Sleins are a very religious family. They don't believe in electricity; apparently, God calls to them to make do without modern amenities. The only piece of modern equipment is a single pickup truck the remains on the property in case of emergencies.
"We believe in simplicity," Mr. Slein relays to Dan when giving him a tour of the property. "Rejecting the corruption and sloth of modern times is our path to the Lord."
Dan looks out over the vast fields of crops. "I'm Catholic. Do you really want me following your path, too?"
"Yes. Our way will lead you to God," Mr. Slein informs him severely.
Again, there's another foster kid on the property, an older teenager who only introduces himself as Sebastian. He and Dan will be sharing a room.
"I'm not surprised to see they've gotten another boy," he tells Dan tiredly. "They've had two other guys who've both aged out since I've been here, and one of them told me they had at least two more before that. What the Sleins do is adopt teenage boys, usually older ones, sometimes ones who've had behavior problems, as long as those problems are nonviolent. They use them for work, because they get money for housing foster kids, and now they're also getting free labor. But they don't keep any on once they turn eighteen. Not without any more government checks coming in."
"They're using us," Dan surmises.
Sebastian sighs. "Tell me about it. The foster agency doesn't give a damn, because the Sleins are taking kids no one else wants, and besides, farm work is supposed to be good for troubled kids, or so they say." He looks at Dan. "I was booted out to this place after being arrested for buying oxies. You?"
Dan shrugs. "I was arrested once, between my first and second foster home. Shoplifting. Charges were never filed. This is my third home. I ran away from my other two."
"Running away," Sebastian muses. "That's what I'll be doing in another couple of weeks. My birthday is coming up, and I don't want to have to be told to leave."
When Sebastian does leave later that month, he does so without any fuss, quietly slipping off in the night. Waking up that morning, Dan finds a pile of clothes at the foot of his bed, presumably items Sebastian deliberately left behind for Dan, either because they no longer fit or he couldn't carry them with him. The act of kindness from someone who owes Dan nothing and has very little for himself is touching, and Dan resolves to repay Sebastian one day, if he ever has the chance.
However, soon Dan finds himself quickly forgetting Sebastian ever existed. No one mentions him. Other than reassigning his various chores to different members of the household, the Sleins give no indication that they've noticed he's gone.
Nearly a month passes before Dan realizes he could write to Luth. The abrupt transition of transferring from a city that never sleeps to an isolated farm with no contact with the outside world has muddled him. Nothing seems real here, not anything beyond what he can see and touch, which basically amounts to crop fields and farm tools. The rest of the world seems insurmountably distant, like a memory of a fading dream.
Though he's never known Luth's home address, he directs the letter to Jake's Hamburger Place in the hope that someone there will pass it onto Luth. Bargaining with one of the older Slein children for postage, Dan agrees to take on the daily chore of chopping wood for a week in order to ensure his letter is mailed.
Weeks pass with no word from his father and no response from Luth. The weeks turn to months, and soon, fall cools to winter, and, without any type of contemplation, what was once new to Dan easily becomes routine.