The good news is that Dan is able to find Luth again.
The bad news is that Luth is pretty much out of his mind. He has obviously continued with meth—not only does he look unhealthy, but also prematurely aged. But as the attack on Elijah indicated, the side effects of paranoia, violence, and instability have also taken hold.
"We need to rob that mansion," Luth tells him. The orange light of the fire glints in his eyes, bringing him to look even more crazed. "You said those people have money. We'll get that money, and we'll use it."
Warily, Dan studies Luth's face, and decides to attempt to reason with him despite the likely futility. "It would be too much of a risk to rob them. No one keeps very much cash with them these days. Their money is likely in the bank, or tied up in investments, which doesn't help us at all."
"We can still go there," Luth insists. "I've got a gun, and you've got that knife I gave. We can take them on."
Any hope Dan has about trying to subdue Luth with the switchblade are abruptly extinguished. No way does he stand a chance against some meth addict with a gun, and neither does any unsuspecting person at the Manor House. And just as Dan despairs of the situation holding any last chance of improvement, that Trixie Belden comes stumbling out of the woods, wailing and crying about how he or she has endangered a child that's supposed to be in his or her care. However, Trixie is only wearing a blouse without any type of coat or sweater, and Dan is finally able to determine if Trixie is male or female: given that the pocket of her blouse is on the left side rather than the right, he can safely conclude that Trixie is a girl.
Honestly, Dan does not expect for both him and Trixie to live through the encounter with Luth. Yet somehow, they do, with Luth staggering off in the direction of the Manor House, and Trixie hurriedly leading Dan through the preserve to some sort of cave or animal den.
To his immense relief, the child answers Trixie's calls; not only is Dan glad her younger brother is all right, but he himself wasn't completely sure the whole scenario was on the level. Not that he's glad a child is at risk of harm, but at least this wasn't some sort of prank intended to lure him into a dangerous cave to enact some sort of humiliation upon him. Now, he knows there certainly is a child who needs his help, and child seems to have more than a fighting chance for survival.
Moving automatically, Dan gives his jacket to keep Trixie warm and crawls down into the cave, managing to find her kid brother and use Luth's switchblade to free him. His actions barely register with him; with every movement, he already has be thinking for three steps ahead. A weight lifts of his shoulders when he brings the kid out of the cave to Trixie's tearful embrace, but even then, Dan's work is not finished.
Trixie appears to realize the remaining dangers as well. "That awful man!" She exclaims. "Luke was saying he was planning to use his gun to rob the Manor House!"
"Luth," Dan corrects. "And yes. Which is you'll take this knife—" he grabs Trixie's hand and wraps her fingers around the handle of the switchblade "—and use it to protect yourself. And keep the jacket, too. I don't know how much longer you'll be out here."
"Where are you going?" Trixie demands.
"To stop Luth," Dan informs her, scanning the nearby tree line. He's still not particularly familiar with the preserve, and the darkness of night contorts what little sense of direction he has.
"That catamount is still around," Trixie warns him. "Bobby and I are going back to your fire to wait there for help."
"If I have the chance, I'll send help to you," Dan promises, as he starts off in what he thinks in the right direction.
"Wrong way," Trixie tells him. She points to where he should go. "Luke went the wrong way, too—he's probably going see the lights from the stables and mistake it for the Manor House. If you hurry, you might be able to stop him."
"Thanks," Dan says grimly before charging off into the woods.
The night air is frigid, and his puffs of breath are visible when he exhales. More than once, his boots, their Western design vastly unsuited to the snow and ice, slide out from under him when he tries to veer left or right, bringing him crashing to the ground. Each time it occurs, Dan sustains new injuries, and by the third time he pushes himself upright yet again, the sharp, metallic taste of blood is leaking from his split lip into his mouth. The sharp wind slices at the thin fabric of his worn sweater, but Dan can't allow the cold to delay him. People are in danger, and it's his fault: he's the one whose letter brought Luth here.
While crashing through the dark forest, a few unfocused thoughts about the danger float through Dan's head, but he dismisses them one after the other, unwilling to shift his priorities. He'll likely die during this encounter with Luth, as Luth is armed, and, due to the drugs, violent and unpredictable. But that's okay. Given that he's about to be shipped out to a reform school until he's eighteen and then released onto the streets with no legitimate prospects, the world isn't about to weep to see him go.
All too often, Dan slows in an attempt to reassess his location and try to reference his knowledge of the Wheeler property, but is continually impeded by his limited comprehension of the local terrain. Forced to rely solely on vague hunches, by the time he somehow bumbles his way the lake, he's certain that the only explanation for his success can be divine intervention.
With the stables in view, Dan begins sprinting toward the structure, scrutinizing the dim landscape for any hint of Luth. Just when he thinks he's at his maximum speed, he hears the resounding crack of a gunshot echo through the night, and he forces his legs to churn faster, desperate to prevent any further bloodshed.
But as he races to the source of the sound, Dan finds an unlikely scene before him. Luth is lying on the ground, prone and groaning, as an unknown woman stands several paces away, silhouetted in the yellow glow of the stable lights. A handgun in her gloved grip is trained unwaveringly on Luth.
"Identify yourself," the woman commands sharply as Dan approaches.
Holding up his hands to demonstrate his good intentions, Dan struggles to keep a steady voice as the night's seemingly endless stress begins to take its toll. "Dan Mangan. Assistant game keeper for the Wheelers."
"Ah." A quick smile flits across the woman's features, and Dan is struck by her resemblance to that brunette girl from school. "Then you must be Regan's nephew. I'm Madeline Wheeler. Welcome to Sleepyside."
When the Wheelers and Beldens offer Dan membership to their club, he readily accepts. Admittedly, he's much less interested in forging friendships as much as establishing a place for himself. In particular, Regan seems impressed by this group, so signing on with them appears to be both an advisable and strategic move, given Dan's present situation.
They're not a bad bunch, Dan must admit. Terminally square and entitled, but certainly not as insufferable as he'd once thought. Besides, it's good to be wanted, even if in this case, it's just to make amends for their previous actions.
With the initial wrinkles surrounding Dan's arrival in Sleepyside now ironed out, Dan somewhat expects Regan to assume a type of familial role towards him. But other than buying Dan a pair of ice-skates to use in the BWG carnival, Regan keeps his distance. It's not quite like how he previously went out of his way to hide and refuse to acknowledge his relationship with Dan, but it's a narrow improvement.
Thus, Dan decides to be the one to extend camaraderie, in various forms, to Regan. During his off hours, he visits the stables and tries to help out with chores. While never appearing all that enthused about Dan's presence, Regan seems resignedly accepting of him, leading Dan to attempt an experiment. During one of these visits, he casually addresses Regan as his uncle; however, the reception is decidedly icy.
"Want my help cleaning those saddles, Uncle Bill?" Dan asks solicitously. He's careful to keep his voice cheerful. He wants to seem wholesome. Like the BWGs. Like someone Regan would like.
The title brings Regan to freeze in the midst of stowing away riding equipment, but as he's facing in the opposite direction, Dan can't see his expression. For a long moment, the only sound in the stables is some Faith Hill song— "Breathe," if the frequent repetition of the word in the lyrics is anything to go by— playing on that godawful country music station Regan likes.
"It's 'Regan,'" his uncle informs him. "Just 'Regan.'"
"Liam it is," Dan mutters to himself as Regan strides away.
In further endeavors to win Regan's favor, as well as make amends for his "Uncle Bill" faux pas, Dan increases his efforts. He drops by Regan's apartment frequently, though Regan is absent more often than not. But since Dan's near the garage fairly regularly, he strikes up a friendship with Tom, who's always seemed pleasant and agreeable. He never seems to mind Dan hanging around, and treats him similarly to how Dan imagines one might regard a younger brother. He talks to Dan about the cars and instructs him on basic maintenance and repairs.
"How do you like it?" Tom asks him one time, when Dan is helping him scrub away crusted rock salt from the vehicles. "Living and working in the woods, I mean."
The question leaves Dan taken aback. No one else has ever bothered to ask him before if he likes his living arrangements — not social services, not the Wheelers, and certainly not Regan. As far as any of them were concerned, his opinion was never even a factor. But it's nice, Dan realizes, a sudden rush of affection for Tom flooding through him. Someone asking after him, caring enough to want to hear what he has to say is a welcome change.
"It's all right," he replies. "The work isn't a big change from my previous foster home — you know that it was a farm. So I'm not opposed to chores. Elijah has been very generous to me, which I appreciate, and he allows me a lot of freedom to come and go as I please. It's certainly not a bad place to be."
Tom smiles at him. "No, it's definitely not."
Upon casually flipping through the old book of recipes and remedies passed down from his mother's side of the family, Dan locates a recipe for coffee braids. Struck with inspiration, he decides to charm Regan through the power of baked goods. After several long days laboring over the hot stove, he's able to create ones that look halfway decent — and taste tests conducted by Mart Belden indicate that the results have at least always been appetizing.
Though he could easily take the treats down to the stables, Dan isn't willing to risk the possibility of a public rejection.
However, his multiple tries to leave them in Regan's apartment are thwarted by Regan's sudden consciousness about home security; he's begun firmly locking the door whenever he's gone. After several unsuccessful trips to the apartment with the coffee braids in tow, Dan winds up passing them onto a gracious Tom and Celia. The other, more mangled attempts at baking go to bribing Bobby Belden to behave during the times when Trixie cons Dan into baby-sitting for her.
Spring, Freshman Year
With the arrival of spring comes Andrew Belden, who is staying in Sleepyside for a short time to visit his niece and nephews. The remaining BWGs are invited to meet him, and Dan attends, though he can't help but feel like an intruder. But he suspects he would feel uncomfortable at Crabapple Farm regardless; after all, it was only a few weeks ago that Trixie and Honey were pointing and snickering at his limited clothing options.
In an attempt to make himself more comfortable, Dan tries to talk to Mart. In the past few weeks, they've found surprising common ground: both of them are fans of Star Wars and Star Trek .
"I've just dug out my Young Jedi Knights collection from the attic," Mart tells him. "They're aimed at younger kids, though. You can tell that they're written much more simplistically. They're not exactly 'kiddie,' per se, but the writing of situations and characters is so facile. I wonder if that's just Kevin J. Anderson's style." He nods at Bobby, who, in excitement at the various houseguests, is bouncing off the walls like the eponymous Calvin from Calvin & Hobbes . "I'm giving him my old Jedi Prince books."
"When I first read KJA's books, I didn't realize how intricately connected they were to the other events in the Star Wars Expanded Universe ," Dan begins. However, the mention of his name brings him to pause, and Dan can't but overhear Trixie's conversation with her Uncle Andrew. She's been giving him the details of the club's adventures for the past half hour, and finally, she arrives at the topic of Dan, their latest member.
"Regan brought Dan to Sleepyside after he got into trouble in New York City, but with our help, Dan was able to turn his life around! He's much happier now that he's a member of our club," Trixie helpfully exposits.
It's odd to hear himself explained in that manner, as though he's yet another one of the Bob-Whites' charity projects, like the sole reason he isn't at a juvenile detention center is due to their intervention. Well, that much is true, ignoring that Honey and Trixie were responsible for convincing Regan to send him back in the first place, although Regan needed so little convincing from the start.
Mart has overheard the conversation as well, and he turns to Dan with his face burning, mouth gaping, clearly mortified at his sister's words.
"It's okay," Dan says quietly, even though his stomach is churning and he suddenly feels unwelcome and self-conscious.
In fairness, his motives for joining the Bob-Whites were more related to self-preservation than altruism. But hypocritical as it may be, he despises the idea that he was brought into the club so they could prop him up as some kind of mascot of their moral decency.
Is that what he is to the BWGs? Some sort of token member to fill a minority slot that existed so they could congratulate themselves, a living symbol to demonstrate their kindness and generosity?
What's more is the ludicrous implication that a new environment and new friends should be capable of transforming him. Dan's settings have changed; his personality has not. And yet, some people are convinced that being in Sleepyside "healed" him or something. Please — the idea is so unrealistic it's almost cartoonish.
But he's pulled away from any type of bitterness or outrage when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder. Raising his gaze, Dan meets the eyes of Mart, who gives him a smile that's a blend of sympathy and sheepishness.
Though his first instinct is to reject any display of pity, Dan recognizes the gesture of goodwill, and, for the first time in a long time, finds himself smiling back.
In an effort to keep up appearances, Dan regularly "eats" (read: reads during) lunch with the other BWGs. Serendipitously, despite the three girls being in middle school, Jim and Brian being juniors, and he and Mart being freshmen, they all have the same lunch period, meaning they can all dine together with no interference.
Every once in a while, though, Dan neglects the cafeteria in favor of the library, bringing an apple to munch on while completing any homework or projects. To be honest, he doesn't need the extra time; chronic insomnia has plagued him since his foster care days, and he has more than ample time for his schoolwork at night, when most usual people are asleep.
But some days, he just needs a break from the constant noise, interaction, and observation. It's not just that it's exhausting to always be alert, always be watchful, but the idea of people watching him, noting his movements, starts an itch beneath his skin. The concept of being around people, with him hyperaware of them and them aware of him, wears on Dan too deeply to go without respite for an extended time.
The far corner of the library is surrounded by nonfiction books, which, in the information age, other students rarely utilize. Thus, the area is fairly secluded and private, considering it's in the building of a public school. The relative quiet of the location brings Dan to consider it an optimal spot, and on one occasion he remains indoors during a fire drill to drag a table and chair behind the shelves unquestioned, effectively claiming the site as "his."
During one lunchtime in the library, Dan is absorbed in a copy of Flowers for Algernon when a lunch sack is dropped on the table before him, followed by Mart Belden sitting down in the chair beside him.
Dan glances up from his book, arching an eyebrow.
"In preparation of our mutual noontime repast, I shrewdly secured surplus sustenance," Mart informs him promptly, opening up the paper bag and rummaging through the contents. "Let's see, we've got ham and cheese cornbread, apple crisp baked oatmeal, raspberries, and chocolate chip oatmeal cookies."
"Have you undertaken it as your mission to feed me?" Dan inquires, bemused. "You can drop the elaborate vocab around me, you know. I'm not some middle schooler with big violet eyes who'd be impressed."
"Hmph." An irritated expression crosses Mart's face, but it's quickly replaced by a teasing smirk. "Dan, my good man, your secret is out. With my ace detective skills—" Mart taps a temple with his finger, "—I deduced that you usually eat lunch in the library every Thursday or so. I wanted to join you for lunch, and since you never eat, I didn't want to bring food without any to share with you."
"Hmm." Dan wasn't aware that his routine became easily predictable in such a short time. He'll have to make sporadic changes in the near future—since it's spring now, maybe he can find some way to sneak out on to the roof. "But what are you doing here?"
"I know you declined my uncle's invitation to Iowa, even though the rest of us plan to go," Mart begins. "Anything I can do to change your mind?"
"Not really," Dan tells him. "Honestly, I'm just looking forward to having some downtime from studying. And while I don't mind learning, damn do I hate being trapped in one building all day."
"We could hang out together," Mart wheedles.
"And do what? Have a sheep shearing party?" Dan does not hide his skepticism.
"There's probably a corn maze we could do," Mart offers.
"Are you sure you don't want to angle for some private time with Diana instead?" Dan smirks. He's been aware of the affections the two have for one another since the day he'd met them. Whether they'd ever go further than admiring glances, or if a relationship between them would be successful or even remotely feasible, remained to be seen.
"She thinks you're very handsome, you know," Mart notes.
Uncertain what type of response the statement warrants, Dan shrugs in a deliberate show of false modesty. "Well, I think I'm very handsome, too."
"I'll bet the girls in Iowa would also appreciate your handsomeness," Mart hints.
"No," Dan says flatly.
"C'mon, Dan," Mart complains. "Have some pity on me, please? I don't want to be a third wheel during this trip. I need my own bro, someone to have my back when I need it."
"No." Dan sighs. "But if it makes you feel any better, Mart, once fall starts, we can visit all the corn mazes to your heart's content."
While the Bob-Whites are away in Iowa, Dan makes a discovery while trying to familiarize himself with the Wheeler property.
In an area of the woods not too far from the game preserve is a long forgotten cemetery that sits near the top of the hill. Though less than a quarter mile off the main road, the shroud of trees and towering hedges give the illusion of privacy. Climbing vines wind throughout the tree branches in a thick canopy, and lending the entire property a cloak of shadows and dimness. The tall gates are closed and locked, flanked by a duo of life-size angel statues standing on pedestals, but Dan can squeeze through a gap in the wrought iron fence that is not quite disguised by several close-quartered thuja shrubs.
The main path of set bricks snakes throughout the graves. Some sit above the ground like sarcophagi, and many are guarded by large statues or are otherwise elaborately embellished to the point that it's reminiscent of art gallery. Several small mausoleums dot the landscape. The path concludes at the most sunless, gloomy corner of the place, which contains a large, arch-shaped marble headstone beneath a high arbor laden with trailing vines. A sculpture of a weeping woman crouches at the tomb's base, her face covered by her hands.
Though Dan first happens across the cemetery quite unintentionally, and then only enters due to innate curiosity, an odd emotion settles over him as he wanders among the graves.
Familiarity.
Peace.
Almost as if . . . he belongs here.
The quiet, Dan concludes when he departs, after remaining within the cemetery's gates for nearly an hour. That's what draws him in. The silence and the absence of people. Here, he can escape any prying eyes and simply be himself. He can stop worrying about impressing Regan, measuring up to the other BWGs, or exactly what the future holds for him now that he's in Sleepyside.
Alone in the cemetery, Dan doesn't have to put on airs. He doesn't have to revise or censor pieces of himself to give comfort to others. He can stop pretending that he doesn't have a past.
In the cemetery, there's only the past.
Returning the following day, Dan settles by the tombstone with the weeping woman and contemplates his surroundings. It's cliché, Dan thinks, that some troubled delinquent kid hangs out in a cemetery in his spare time. A cemetery that's oh-so-conveniently nearby the game preserve where he works.
But then, some troubled delinquent kid being shipped to a backwoods small town to "change his ways" or "reform" is pretty goddam cliché by itself.
Trixie's words to her Uncle Andrew, never far from Dan's mind, drift to the front of his thoughts.
" . . . with our help, Dan was able to turn his life around! He's much happier now that he's a member of our club."
Just recalling Trixie's self-aggrandizing little speech brings Dan's blood to boil and his fist to automatically clench.
In all honesty, though, it's not Trixie's fault. That night when Dan rescued Trixie and Bobby, and Mrs. Wheeler rescued him, Trixie tried to apologize for accusing Dan of stealing Honey's watch. Just as Dan opened his mouth to accept, Regan interrupted to pardon Trixie of any mistakes or malice, placing all the blame squarely on Dan's shoulders.
Typical Regan. Like Dan could help Trixie's snide comments that spewed from her mouth the moment she saw him wearing his father's leather jacket. The only jacket he owned.
With everyone and their dog always rushing to absolve Trixie of blame for her own actions, it's no wonder she glides in and accepts credit for others' personal decisions and ethics.
" . . . was able to turn his life around! He's much happier . . . "
His situation may have changed, but Dan himself hasn't. He's still the same person who walked onto the Sleepyside High School bus to be subsequently mocked by Trixie, and he's the same person who rescued Trixie and Bobby that night in the preserve. At no point did he spontaneously change into a better person. No sudden achievement of enlightenment, no magical personality shift, not even a conscious decision to have stronger morals.
The setting might have changed, but Dan in Sleepyside is the same Dan he's always been.
The jury is still out on if that's actually a good thing.
With a sigh, Dan rises and ambles out of the cemetery, weaving through the maze of tombstones. He rounds the corner of a mausoleum and is surprised when he nearly collides with another person: a pretty brunette girl who looks a few years older than him and wears a very startled expression.
"I'm so sorry," he rushes to say.
"It's all right," she replies kindly, the surprise on her face fading into a friendly smile. "I just didn't realize anyone else came here."
Dan shrugs and tries his best to smile back; the expression feels foreign on his features. "No one else really does, from what I can tell."
She chuckles softly and extends her hand. "I'm Esther Kerioth. I see you around Sleepyside High sometimes. I'm a junior there."
"Dan Mangan. Freshman." Dan returns, shaking Esther's hand.
As their introduction finishes, she steps past him, moving further into the cemetery as he takes his leave. "Nice to meet you, Dan. I guess I'll be seeing you around."
"Yeah. See you." For a moment, Dan just watches Esther go, before turning and continuing in the opposite direction.
Written for 2nd Jixanny CWP.
Here are the following elements:
- A backpack: the Tom Ford backpack Luth shoplifted for Dan.
- A cartoon character: Bobby behaving like Calvin from Calvin & Hobbes.
- Lost stories: Dan's The Lord of the Rings books.
- A tribute: The quilt hanging on the wall in the Maypenny Cabin.
- Broken communication: Dan's time in the foster care system, as well as the inaction regarding his arrest.
- Freckles: Regan's freckles.
- Leather clothing: Dan's black leather jacket.
- Someone driving a bus: the driver of the school bus.
- Someone sitting without pants: Honey, wearing a dress, sitting on the school bus.
- "Breathe" by Faith Hill: it plays on the radio when Regan tells Dan not to call him "Uncle Bill."