It was about three, the morning after I saw my son's talent with a bass guitar, that my son came into our room and told us to get ready for the day.
How my son managed to keep hiding things from me was impossible to understand. First, it was his experience with a place we told him never to go. My wife and I told him that the ghost zone was probably the most dangerous place in the universe. Yet, he, by some accident as he described earlier, managed to stumble into this other world. . . . but his disobedience is now what is saving us, so I suppose I can't be mad. Then his shear amount of knowledge. Next it was this amazing talent that lined his voice and his fingertips. Whenever could he practice without us knowing? But I supposed Mads and I have been kinda busy with ghosts, lately...
We were dressed and finishing our breakfast within fifteen minutes. I watched my son, from the corner of my eye, do a quick head count. As he finished, he looked down at the little girl, Dani, and then to his friends, Sam and Tucker. They exchanged a few words and smiles. He was so happy.
My son, who was always trying to avoid people and his school-work, who was always exhausted and a bit moody, was really happy.
"Alright!" his voice broke my train of thought. "It's time we get moving!" He smiled, and Sam picked up Danielle, putting her atop her shoulders. As everyone readied to leave, I grabbed Maddie's hand and pulled her to closer to the front, where my son did a second head count. He lead us out to a set of huge doors and the ghost, Quandary, opened them for us.
Danny-boy stopped and smiled at him. "Thank you very much, Quandary. Your hospitality is unmatched."
"Not a problem, son. You are quite a wonderful guest."
"In that case, this absence shall not be a prolonged one. I wish you a long, sweet death," My son said, bowing his head.
"And a short life to you," Quandary bowed back. They smiled and Danny made his way, leading us out. A ghost just wished my son a short life. Was that a threat? It sounded far too respectful to be a threat... right?
Tucker left after him, and then Sam, each muttering their own good-byes to the old spirit. Dani followed closely behind Sam, giving the ghoul a smile and 'bye'. "Danielle," Sam stopped her, "what do you say to Quandary?"
"Oh! right! Thank you, Quandary!"
"Not a problem, little miss," Quandary smirked and kissed the top of the kiddo's little head. "Be good for your daddy for me, okay? Don't cause him too much trouble."
"What a silly idea. Me, not causing trouble for my old man?" She smirked back.
"Hey! A bit of respect! He isn't that old," Danny's voice chided. I wonder how my son knew Danielle's father. He doesn't spend much time with adults, if he can stand it. I was like that when I was his age. Maybe Danielle was the daughter of that ghost we met earlier, Clockwork. Adopted, of course. Ghosts couldn't have children. Especially human children. But that ghost seemed really old, especially to a kid as young as Danny-boy.
So, that couldn't be it.
So a young ghost had to be it. Maybe she was the kid of that beware-ghost. The one that liked boxes. He seemed at least my age, and Danny would surely consider me old. And plus the guy was dead. He had to have been older than me by now.
No. There was that puny pirate one. He was so young-looking though. Like puberty was the farthest thing away. And he was so childish and playful; I'd seen him fighting, if you could call it that, with Phantom the other day-
PHANTOM! She had to be Phantom's daughter. He was young, but obviously old enough to have kids, technically. And with all the flying around he does in Amity, surely Danny's met him once.
Pro'ly gave that ghost a good talking to, too. Like a Fenton! But maybe not. With the way he's been around these ghosts, he seems to respected and respecting to wopper-jaw on Phantom's ear.
And lately, I've been thinking that maybe not all ghosts are bad. Because of ol' Danny's way to treating them and their way of treating him. And Phantom, though has done some bad, has also done some good. I can't count the times I've seen him save a full school bus from becoming a submarine, or a pool from becoming a ecto-scum, uh, I mean, ghost playground.
Who knows, right?
As we walked along, I and Maddie tried our best to engage the Mansons in as little small-talk as possible. And I still don't care for that lancer guy, so we avoided him too. You could call us anti-social all you wanted. But that is not the case. I just don't like to spend time with people I hate.
Ahead, Danny-boy had Danielle on his shoulders and was parading her around. Sam was walking backwards a bit in front of them, and Tucker was telling her what to avoid. A rock, an incline, a fallen tree, she was stepping around or hopping over them. It was kinda fun to watch their little trust exercise that seemed so rehearsed, so natural.
Then came along Dash Baxter.
That guy is a great football player. I try to go to the home games as often as I can, and the kid is great. But lately I'm growing more and more sure that his skill with a ball and my son's bruises are closely related.
But he would tell me if he was getting picked on, wouldn't he?
Oh, wait! let me do the math really quick: two plus four, minus twelve carry the one...
no.
The blond punk walked up to the group of my son's friends. He had been really quiet, lately. No doubt he was bored. He pushed Danny forward, and my son whipped around after catching his footing.
He sighed a long, tired sigh; and suddenly, my son didn't look happy anymore.
"What do you want, Dash?"
"What's it look like, Fen-turd? I wanna mess with my favorite punching bag."
"Great, I'm still his favorite."
"That's right!" He shoved Danny again, and my son caught himself and continued to walk. Sam was no longer walking backwards, and Tucker was no longer cheering her on.
They whispered what seemed like warnings into my son's ears. Danny shook his head, and walked quicker. Tucker and Sam increased their pace, as well. And now, Dash was jogging to stay up with them.
"When'd you get so fast, Fenturd?"
...
"You hear me?! I said, when'd you get so fast?!"
Dannny looked to Dash, and grumbled just loud enough that I could hear him, "gym."
"I've seen you in gym class, Fenturd, I know that's a lie. I'm not gonna repeat myself again. When'd you get so fast?"
Danny picked up Danielle and put her on the ground in front of himself, and she quickly fell into their speedy pace. I found myself speeding up also to hear the encounter.
...
"Here."
Danny looked back to Dash, who seemed furious from where I was standing. "What you want me to say, Dash? I answered your stupid question, but from the looks of it, that's not enough," He stopped on a dime, and turned around to face the blond thug, "So what do you want me to say?"
Dash pushed his fist up and across Danny's nose. He didn't move an inch, despite the river of blood that now fell from his face. Sam, Tucker, and Danielle were all stopped and looking back on the scene unfolding before them. i was stunned, and as I was about to run up and beat up this Dash kid, they shook their heads and mouthed that Danny could handle himself.
"What do you want me to say?!" Danny was yelling now, "That you're superior? That your ability to make me bleed makes you higher than the rest of the world? Well, I've got news for you, Dash," Danny stepped closer to the towering teen. "I'm human. It doesn't take only your fist to make me bleed. You don't accomplish some great task, every time you push me and I get a scrape, or you punch me and my nose bleeds."
Dash growled and punched my son once in the stomach, and then again in the nose. Danny simply shook it off. "And here's another news-flash. You're just as human as I am. As everyone here is. You breathe as well as I do... And you bleed just as easily." Danny turned on his heel and called over his shoulder, "Don't make me prove it to you."
Beside me, Lancer was talking to Dash, who he'd pulled back right after the encounter.
"-I'm just saying, that maybe you should be nicer to Daniel. He's the one saving us; ensuring we're all fed and warm and on our way out of here."
"You can't make me do anything, Lancer. And you can't make me be nicer to Fenturd."
I growled at him, but stayed still.
Lancer glared, "You doubt me mister Baxter. Either you shape up and show some respect to all the Fentons here and their friends, or I will ensure that you will not get any field time from now up until you graduate college!" Dash backed down at this, and nodded before his teacher dismissed him.
I watched him run up to my son and his friends, who were now about sixty yards ahead, and removing rocks from our path.
"Hey, Fenton! Wait up!"
Danny turned around and sighed.
"I wanna help, Fenton. Don't sound to upset."
Danny looked from Dash to the rocks and sighed. "We've got it handled, Dash. Don't bother."
"I'm gonna help, whether you want it or not," the blond growled.
"...fine."
Danny stepped back to where he had been before and returned to the biggest (about Lancer's size) rock. "Go work on that one, over there," Danny commanded, pointing to a rock that reached about his knees. Danny moved this one easily out of the way, a smile evident on his face.
"Whatever," was Dash's response. He began by trying to pick up the rock, but it appeared that he couldn't. He couldn't lift it enough to get a good hold. Sam had already succeeded in moving one about Tucker's size, and Tucker had completed moving one about Danny's size. Danielle had already moved three that were about her own size.
But, for the life of him, Dash could not move this tiny boulder. He hadn't even seemed to notice how easily the others were moved. By now, the path was almost completely cleared, only Dash's rock remained. Danny rolled his eyes, and tapped Dash's shoulder.
"May I try?" Dash snorted and moved out of the way.
"Good Luck, Fentu-" Dash's jaw, along with my own, dropped as Danny picked the boulder up and carried it under his arm to where they had put the others. "How on earth did you do that?" Dash yelled. Then he looked at all the other boulders that had been moved by his tinier classmates.
Danny shrugged, and in a dead-honest tone responded, "Lift with the legs?"
Dash growled and began to stalk threateningly close to Danny, "What did you say to me, Fenturd?!" He punched my son across the face, and it took Maddie, the Mansons, and Lancer to hold me back.
Danny stood still a moment, and Sam and Tucker took to each of his sides. But instead of looking defensive of him like I had expected, they seemed to be holding him back, talking him down.
Danny took a deep breath and stared at Dash. (I swear I saw his eyes flash green.) "What did you want me to say, Dash?"
Dash didn't respond.
"Honestly, what did you want me to say? What did you want me to tell you? That I've been benching after school? You wouldn't believe that. That I've been doing extra sit-ups and drinking protein shakes with every meal? You wouldn't believe that either. The only thing I'm sure you'd believe, in fact, is that I tricked you or something. But no matter what lie or truth I gave you, you'd have still punched me. You'd still have hated me, and ragged on me, and not believed me. So what did you want me to say, Dash?"
Dash was silent.
"What did you want me to say?" Danny aske- no, begged. "What did you want me to say, damn it?"
Dash's mouth seemed to move but he stayed quiet.
"Nothing. Right. You asked me a question, and didn't want me to respond. I should've known. My bad," Danny said in sarcastic reply to the blond. He sighed in anger, and continued to lead us down the path.
My son was obviously stronger than he lead us all to believe.
After about an hour more of walking, Danny stopped and turned to all of us.
He closed his eyes and breathed deep, the vibrant green of the zone that laid behind him almost made him appear to be glowing. His eyes, I could now see, were tired, and tied. He was worn, and looked like a marine, older, somehow.
But he was. We all were.
Never judge a book by it's cover.
And never judge my son by his performance when excellence is not what ensures the safety of everyone.
He lifted his eyes to the sky and as the world around us began to shake, he commanded with the authority of a marine, "Everyone! Get back! Behind the rocks!"
I've never seen him so genuinely scared.
You like? I'm sooooo sorry it took me so long to finish this. It's actually much harder than you'd believe, writing in Jack's POV. But the next chapter was already rough-drafted and in Danny's POV, so it shouldn't be an issue to finish it on time. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.