Chapter Four: Schoolyard Fight

Carefully making his way up the aisle closest to the door, Spike wondered how he was supposed to know where things were in the store. Also, how much he could buy – he didn't have a car and he needed to keep one hand free for his cane, so he was limited to what he could carry by himself on one arm.

"Oh!"

His head came up at the sound and he looked towards it, suspecting it was the clerk. "I, um…hi there…"

He heard brisk footsteps, then a hand on his arm. "Do you need some help, sir?"

Firm, female, young – maybe just out of school? Spike cocked his head towards her, tugging at his magic – emerald traced over her, shaping out a stout form, a plump face, and long hair. Almost his height. "Yes, please," he breathed, painfully aware he needed the help she was offering.

She nodded and asked, "What is it you need to buy here, sir?"

"Something for lunch?" he requested. Lifting his free hand, he rubbed the back of his neck. "And maybe enough to get me through the next day or so?"

Another nod and his guide shepherded him towards another part of the store; his nose twitched at the scent of cooked meat and his imagination conjured up an image of the usual convenience store setup, with sausages and hot dogs slowly turning in hot racks, just waiting to be purchased.

Instead of starting with lunch, though, his guide walked him through the available items that he could take home, patiently coaxing his likes and dislikes out as she helped him select enough food for dinner and tomorrow's breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Although Spike was fairly sure his friends could pick up food for him once they were off-shift, he knew perfectly well that if they caught a hot call, they might be too tired to get him anything until tomorrow.

His helper even talked him into buying a few snacks, just to ensure he had enough on hand if he got hungry between meals. Spike nibbled his lip at the additions, but the store clerk assured him that everything was light enough to carry home.

With the meals for the next day or so picked out, the clerk guided them back to the pre-cooked meals, patiently encouraging Spike to tell her what he wanted for lunch. His inner canine perked up, wriggling excitedly at the idea of food, now. Firmly swatting that part of his mind down, Spike hesitantly asked for two of their spiciest sausages, a biscuit, and a smidge of gravy to go with it all. The clerk assembled his order at speed and guided him back to her register, helping him with getting his credit card out of his wallet. She had to give him the plastic 'pen' and move his hand to the signature screen, but it was almost easier to sign his name without being able to see the writing on the screen.

With his purchases paid for, the clerk helped Spike to a nearby area where he could eat his lunch while she packed his other items in bags for the trip home. As he ate his meal, Spike fought with his own emotions – he was so very grateful for his friends' care, but they'd been so very caring that he literally couldn't fend for himself in their absence. Look at how hard he'd had to struggle to make one simple little trip to a store. Look at how dependent he was on the kindness of strangers – first that little boy and now the store clerk. His friends had enabled that. He knew they were just trying to take care of him and look after him while he was so beaten down and hurting, but… By taking care of him so well, they'd made it harder for him to learn how to adapt to his disability. If he was going to be blind for the rest of his life, he had to learn how to live on his own. How to survive, how to work, how to everything. He couldn't do that if his friends were doing everything for him.

With a grocery bag perched on his left arm, his cane in his right, and his phone cheerfully guiding him back to his new apartment, Spike made his way down the street, sweeping the cane back and forth as he walked. He was pretty sure he was still getting the hang of the cane – he'd stumbled over a few cracks and curbs both to and from the convenience store – but the longer he practiced, the more his confidence was growing.

As he walked, he cocked his head, listening for the sounds of the schoolyard he'd passed on his way to the convenience store. The first time by had been nerve-wracking, mostly because he'd been so focused on his phone and walking correctly – the sounds of children playing had been an unwelcome disruption to his struggles. But now that he was on his way back and he'd gained some confidence, Spike was hoping to hear those sounds of glee again. Enjoy the joyful shrieks of children who would hopefully never know any of the struggles he'd been through in his lifetime. Especially the dragon and the blindness.

His steps sloped up, the concrete sidewalk rising to run alongside the schoolyard's chain-link fence; his cane tapped the fence each time he swept it from left to right. Lifting his head, he turned his blind gaze towards the fence, listening for the sound of children playing.

Instead, he heard a scuffle. The sound of heavy, fearful breathing, the impact of fist against flesh. An aborted yell – probably the victim, judging by the shrillness.

The veteran cop snapped sideways, so fast that he rapped his cane against the chain-link fence. "Hey!" he yelled, struggling to see a way into the schoolyard.

His magic came to his aid – the chain-link fence lit up in the blackness with an emerald glow and he saw the gap in it. Spike darted for that gap, careening into the schoolyard and switching his focus towards the scuffle.

He heard the sound of receding footsteps – fast enough that he knew the aggressors were running, fleeing from the adult authority he represented. If he'd been on the job, if he could see, he might've pursued. But without his vision, there was no way he could give chase.

So instead he headed for the victim, crumpled in a heap on the ground and crying even though the bullies were gone. He skidded to a halt before the figure and crouched down, only to hesitate. He was blind, how could he help?

Hesitant, he asked, "You okay, kid?"

"Do I look like I'm okay, Mister?" the boy demanded in a high, shrill tone.

The blind raven winced. "That's, um, that's kinda the problem right now, kiddo."

He heard a startled intake of breath. Then the little boy rolled a bit, pushing himself up enough to look up at his rescuer. There was another instant of silence before the child laughed, a harsh bitter sound. "Great. Saved by the blind guy! Karl'll never let me hear the end of it."

Both brows shot up. Karl? He opened his mouth to ask, but instinct shrieked warning. Spike twisted on his heels, but far too late; a form barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. His cane and grocery bag went sprawling as he fell heavily – only his close proximity to the pavement saved him from several nasty scrapes.

He looked up, just in time for his emerald magic to skate over two forms. One was the boy still on the ground; the other planted himself between Spike and the boy, fists clenched and indignation tangible. "Get away from my little brother, you big bully!"

Spike's eyes fell to the younger boy; somehow he knew the boy was looking right back at him, their eyes locked together. And somehow he knew exactly what the little boy was thinking – the same thing he was.

Well, this is awkward…

Author Note: Well... I had a new experience this week (which I did not appreciate). On Tuesday, Dallas had a huge storm and, for the first time since I originally moved here, my power went out! Even worse, my beloved car was trapped in its own garage because the door is a powered door. So I couldn't even pick up and go off to the office, which did have power.

Praise the Lord, my power was only off for about three hours or so. Once it came back, I had some scrambling around to do, but I managed to get to work and even managed to vote in my Primary Runoff Election - the storm just had to come on the same day as the Primary Runoff Election.

I do need to purchase some new Uninterruptible Power Source units - my current ones were purchased in 2018 and are a wee bit past their 'Best By' date. However, first I have to wait until my local MicroCenter is open again - they also lost power during the storm along with my local Walmart and Sam's Club.

In other news, I have reached out to my story coach and I am setting up a Developmental Edit for Small Beginnings, tentatively scheduled for the beginning of August. For those of you doing a Beta Read of Small Beginnings, please get it back to me by mid-June so I can incorporate the feedback prior to the Developmental Edit.

As always, I hope you all enjoyed - and please do read and review. I am forever grateful to my readers who are willing to make that extra effort and I personally respond to each signed review.