Take Me There
By WittyKins
Chapter Two
The neighborhood park was a popular destination for those who were lucky enough to live within its radius, and its total area was less than a square mile. The park was bordered by a small man-made pond to the east, along with a dense pocket of tightly packed trees with a couple of rolling hills at its core. Filled with a moderately decorated playground, paved walking trails, a merry-go-round, and a small concrete stage, it was an escape from the urban jungle that appealed to individuals of all ages. By day, the park housed street vendors, local performers, and community intramural sporting activates.
An inner-city hub, the cultural epicenter for a community rich in diversity.
It was often joked amongst the area's citizens that on a clear day, even with all the little noises of the city-the car horns blaring, people bustling, sirens screaming in the distance-the sound of laughter could be heard from blocks away. While this statement had long been confirmed as an exaggeration, it did not take an expert to notice that the life of this recreational area dimmed with the passing light of day.
The park became an entirely new entity, its lush green grass appearing ashen under the pale glow of the moonlight, the trees growing more indiscernible against the night sky, the heavily trafficked walkways becoming barren wastelands stretching on for an eternity.
There was no music.
There was no sound of playing.
There was no sign of life.
There was no laughter. Well, there was no human laughter.
By night, the empty park became a haven for an adventurous orange turtle whose glee filled the dead surrounding space.
Riding his skateboard through the park's paved path never grew old for the youngster. The lack of people not only allowed him to forget about having to wear a stupid disguise consisting of uncomfortable human clothing, it also provided him with the room to ride as recklessly as he wished, it made it possible for him to experience surface-level shredding.
New York City was home to some of the country's more eclectic individuals, but the sight of a giant, talking, weapon-wielding turtle still did not sit well with most people. Their father made it his duty to remind them of the world's dangers. Not to mention, they were always on the lookout for the Foot, Shredder, and other outer-worldly enemies.
Suffice it to say, the four turtles did not get out as often as they would have liked. Their place was underground and out of sight.
Michelangelo decided that he was going to live in the moment and take in everything he was feeling. The sights, sounds, smells, and sensations were livening his senses. He did feel bad about sneaking out. He was sure he could have found something to do at home instead of watching that dumb movie and he was fully expecting to experience some form of punishment for his stunt.
"I am king of the universe!" Michelangelo whooped valiantly as he zipped along the paved walkway leading towards the small pond.
However, the future would have to wait.
He could not remember the last time he felt this alive. The fresh, moist air stroked his skin as he made another sharp turn near the park's pond. He jumped and performed tricks without fear of hitting his head on a sewer tunnel or of falling in the toxic, smelly waters that polluted the areas around their home.
After a few minutes, he decided that he had enough skateboarding for one night. Stopping in front of the park's pond, Mikey stared at the stagnant water. He loved bodies of water but he preferred watching rivers. Something about moving water excited the teenage turtle.
Water, in his opinion, shouldn't be contained; rather, it should be free to go where it wanted.
The pond's water, like him, was stuck. It could go nowhere and its potential was limited to the boundaries that someone else had decided for it. Still, it was something nice to look at and he did not know when he would have another opportunity to enjoy a pond in the open like this.
Setting his board carefully on the ground, he sat down and decided to indulge in this small moment.
One day, he would bring his brothers back to this spot. He completely enjoyed looking at the pond by himself, but he would much rather enjoy having others here to enjoy it with him. Besides, there were a lot of flying insects near the water and it would be funny hearing Raph scream bloody murder.
Maybe he would even be able to convince his old man to live a little.
He sat there, on his board listening to the gentle sounds of the night air while slowly willing himself to start heading home. Completely entranced by the moment, he did not notice the clumsy footsteps of a figure emerging from the direction of the park's forest. The form stumbled around quietly while murmuring to itself, heading straight for the pond.
"Oh, come on, not even one star?!"
Michelangelo froze.
His heart began racing in his chest and for once in his life he was happy that he did not have hair because at this present moment it would be standing straight up.
He shook his head. He had to be imagining things.
"There has to be at least one out tonight!"
Wait, there was someone else in the park.
"I can hardly see the moon."
Why was there someone at the park?
It was late at night, and people with any sort of common sense would be safely tucked away in the comfort of their homes. Michelangelo may not have been as smart as his brother Donnie, but he knew that most people who decided to hang out at the park in the middle of the night were usually up to no good.
"Why are the buildings so bright tonight?"
From the individual's voice, he could tell whomever was in the park with him was a boy. Mikey started to survey his surroundings. He was out in the open near a pond without any sort of disguise to hide the fact that he was a walking turtle. If he moved now, he risked the chance of being spotted by whoever was heading his direction.
"This is the exact spot. Why isn't anything happening?"
To his right, Mikey noticed a long row of park benches that offered no hopes of cover. To his left, Mikey spotted a collection of large rocks that would offer some form of temporary cover. Moving quickly, he quietly ducked behind the rocks. Mikey cursed at himself silently when he realized that in his panic to find cover, he had left his skateboard. Peeking around the sharp stones, the young turtle grumbled, there was no way for him to grab his board without being seen.
Could this be a Purple Dragon gang member who had followed him?
A Foot Soldier?
Or maybe it was the Shredder here to cut off his beautiful green head!
"It should be here by now! Where are they?"
Michelangelo began mentally kicking himself for leaving the lair. He wasn't exactly as stealthy as he could have been. He shouted like a lunatic while riding through the park. Whoever this was obviously meeting up with someone else in the park, which was the last thing he needed.
"Ugh, stupid fog, how do people in this city enjoy the sky?"
Mikey furrowed his brow while straining his vision to get a better look at the intruder. Not to be judgmental, but he found it hard to believe that the Shredder or any member of the Purple Dragons took the time to enjoy the night sky while they were in the middle of terrorizing people.
If Donnie were here, he would probably accuse them of lacking "culture".
"Come on fog, move!"
As the figure got a bit closer, Mikey's suspicions were confirmed. He could see the outline of a young teenage boy. His feet shuffling against the grainy cement path in front of the pond's shore. The boy was not walking a straight line- rather he was weaving back and forth with no clear sense of direction. He spun around and cursed silently to himself under his breath, an occasional grunt escaping his mouth all while his head was tilted towards the sky as if he was looking for something or someone.
"I just want to see…"
Squinting his eyes, Mikey could see that the teen was holding a pair of binoculars. Why was he wearing binoculars?
"…my home!"
"What the…" Mikey whispered to himself as he quietly watched the boy, "his home, why would he look towards the sky for his home?"
Why was there a teenage boy strolling through the park in the middle of the night wielding a pair of binoculars?
Did he forget where he lived?
Was he drunk?
Perhaps, he was under the influence of drugs?
These must have been the side effects Master Splinter had warned him about. Shaking his head in disappointment, Mikey couldn't help but to feel slightly sorry for the teen. Maybe he didn't have a sensei to teach him right from wrong. Master Splinter had spent many nights telling them the horror stories of drugs and their effects on one's mind, body, spirit, and relationships with other people.
Groaning, the boy threw his binoculars against the ground while spinning around and pointing an accusing finger towards the city. Everything about his posture read irritation and Mikey could practically see the steam rising from his lean frame.
"Because of you, city, and your bright lights, I can't see the stars in the sky!"
The boy paused and Mikey thought that the teenager was expecting some sort of reply. Suddenly, the boy twisted around and pointed another finger towards the sky. His breathing ragged his other hand clenched in a tight fist at his side.
"Don't think I forgot about you, fog. How dare you cover the beautiful sky!"
Either this kid was a clinical junior astronomer or he was under the influence of something.
As the teen got closer to the pond, Mikey took in the boy's features. Under the dim glow of the lamppost, he could see that the teen had very dark hair though he couldn't make out his face. The boy seemed to be a little taller than Mikey and was incredibly lean, but not scrawny.
Michelangelo sat in complete silence, shocked by the spectacle that was unfolding before his eyes. The boy was shouting, accusing everything around him from blocking his view of the night sky. Mikey wasn't too sure what this kid was expecting, this was New York City after all. If he wanted to do a little stargazing, upstate was where he needed to go.
The teenager stomped around, kicking sand, rocks and dirt as he shared some not so kind words. Suddenly, Michelangelo heard the familiar sound of wood being struck followed by a loud splash. His heart fell into the bottom of his shell- the prickly sense of realization settling in.
"What in the hell?!" The teen shouted while jumping up and down holding his foot.
"My baby," Mikey whispered to himself, the familiar sting of tears entering his eyes.
Mikey, biting his tongue until he tasted copper, willed himself to not cry out. He felt the loss and he knew that his skateboard would be beyond repair. He clawed at the side of his face. How could he have forgotten to grab it when he hid behind the rocks?
If he knew one thing, he knew that this boy now owed him a brand-new skateboard seeing as his was probably at the bottom of the pond by now.
Before he could officially enter his grieving phase, Mikey heard another small splash followed by the sounds of the teen grunting. Wood and metal scratching against the rock caused Mikey's eyes to widen as he watched the boy lay on his belly while pulling his skateboard to the shore.
Wiping the back of his hand across his brow, Mikey sighed in relief. His board had been spared.
Walking away from the pond, the boy plopped down on the ground and began removing his shoe to examine his foot. Once he was satisfied, he reached over towards the skateboard, turning it over in his hands.
"What is this...thing?"
Mikey frowned at the teen's question.
Was this kid seriously for real? Like, for real...for real?
Did he not recognize the fine piece of sporting equipment he was rubbing his grubby hands all over?
"It looks like...some sort of board with...four small wheels?"
Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a genius!
"I'll just leave it here I guess. Someone is bound to notice it's missing."
Setting the board gently to the side, the teen grabbed his binoculars and glanced towards the night sky. He sat still, clearly focusing on whatever he was trying to accomplish.
Michelangelo silently cheered from his hiding spot. All he needed to do was wait for this kid to lose interest and leave.
Seeing this distraction as his opportunity to put a safe distance between him and the kid, Michelangelo began quietly creeping to the edge of the park. He didn't want to be here for whatever reunion the weird teen was waiting for. Half way there, Mikey's senses directed his line of sight towards the park's center forest as two more figures, much larger than the teen, emerged from the darkness.
Michelangelo heard the familiar sound of chains rattling and a bat striking an open palm. He couldn't see clearly, but the two figures looked an awful lot like thugs who were walking with a purpose towards the pond.
The pond where he once was.
The pond that almost consumed his beloved skateboard.
The pond, where a boy sat alone, in the dark, and unaware of what was about to occur.
Michelangelo did not know this kid personally, but something told him that these two fools were not what the kid had in mind.
Why, of all nights, did he forget to grab his disguise?
(A/N): Oh, no! I smell trouble!
A very special thank you to Ravenshell and Beeftony for beta reading this chapter and offering their infinite wisdom. You both are teaching me so much and I am starting to feel more confident as a writer.