A big thank you to all who have taken the time to review. I'm glad you are enjoying the story. Only two more chapters after this one.
We met up at the bowling alley a few blocks from home. Angel was propping up the bar and turned to order two more beers as we walked over to him. I was right as to how important it was. Turns out Jerry owed a lot of money round town and just so happens he got a check for four hundred thousand from Ma's life insurance.
Trying to wrap my head around the facts, I sipped my beer, praying that my brother couldn't possibly be involved but also seeing the evidence in front of me. Turning to leave, Jack called to me pointing across the lanes. There stood the man in question, Jeremiah Mercer, handing over an envelope to an old friend of his, Evander Pearce. According to Angel, Evan was working for a guy named Victor these days. All the dots were starting to link and I didn't like the pattern I was getting.
There was only one thing that that envelope could possibly contain and it was Ma's blood money. Jerry left before the three of us could cross the lanes. But I couldn't leave the money with Evan. I'm surprised I kept my cool in there, if his kids weren't there I know I would have launched myself at him.
When we left, with the envelope safely tucked in my coat pocket, I couldn't think straight. The thoughts running through my head were not making any sense. Driving normally has a calming effect on me, but this time it wasn't working. I pulled over and tossed the keys to Angel, before I ended up totalling another car. Half way home I told Angel to head to Jerry's house.
Only the fact that I couldn't let my nieces see me attacking there father, saved Jerry from a beating that night. Angel set up a family meeting for the morning at Ma's, before taking us home.
I couldn't sleep so sat staring out the window until the sun rose. The light making the snow gleam white and pure, giving the neighbourhood an almost innocent look. The image was fleeting, as soon the clouds rolled in the snow took on the typical dull grey of a Detroit winter. This reminded me of the night Jack literally fell into our lives.
The three of us had been down at the rink whilst Ma was off Christmas shopping. We'd taken on all comers until the skies grew dark and the lights were finally switched off. Once we pulled off our skates, we started the long trudge home. Normally we would have driven, but Ma had the car, so I had to listen to Angel and Jerry whine as we made our way through downtown Detroit.
We knew every alley and street that would take us straight home in the shortest possible time; we'd done it a thousand times before. The difference this day was the sound of breaking glass, and the kid that flew from the first storey window to land awkwardly in our path.
The kid didn't even cry out, he just tried to stand and walk away, a task made impossible by his already swelling ankle. I told Jerry to stay with the kid as I took off my jacket and sweater and wrapped them around the kid's frail frame. With a look to Angel we made our way up the fire escape to the apartment with the broken window.
Inside the place stank, I'm talking the smell of years of neglect. The apartment door stood swinging back and forth on its hinges, and footsteps were rapidly fading into the distance. We had two choices, give chase and the boy probably wouldn't make it through the next thirty minutes outside in this temperature, or get the kid to a doctor. I returned to the alley and lifted the boy as carefully as I could into my arms, trying to keep the anger roiling inside me at bay. As much as I hated hospitals I knew that was where we had to go.
When we arrived, we didn't even know how to answer the questions that were being thrown at us. The boy had long since passed out from the pain. All we knew was the name of the alley we found him in and the fact someone had thought it would be fun to use him as a personal punch bag. They rushed him through the double doors and into a trauma room, leaving us to sit and wait. Angel had phoned Ma telling her we were at the hospital, but what the idiot neglected to mention was that it wasn't one of us hurt. She'd come tearing into the ER, expecting the worst, only to see all three of us sat there cold but healthy. The tears that fell from her eyes were ones of pure relief, until I told her about the boy we'd brought in.
She raised hell that night trying to find out who the boy was and what had happened to him. By six the following morning we had a name and a list of injuries the poor boy, Jack, had sustained. Some were old, some new, all painful and things that no child should have to experience. The fall had shattered his right ankle, his left forearm was broken in two places, right shoulder dislocated, numerous rib fractures although judging from the boot print on his chest these were from before the fall. The bruises that covered his body looked like storm clouds, some were so deep they'd bruised bone.
Ma told me that night that she would do everything in her power to help Jack, and she did. If she wasn't at work she was at the hospital with him. It took a month to get him fit enough to leave the hospital and another before he stood unaided.
When Jack finally talked about what happened to him it turned out that he hadn't been thrown from the window but jumped just to get away. He broke down explaining what had been done to him in the years he had been living rough. I remember thinking that he was tougher than he looked. Come off it, how many kids survive three years on the streets. Especially one that wasn't even thirteen yet.
To cheer him up I went and bought him a present, and as he unwrapped it I explained that if he feels like jumping again at least strap on the wings he was opening. And thus was born the Fairy. Nobody ever got charged for what happened, but to this day, I wish I could meet the person responsible in a dark alley and give them a taste of their own medicine.