Date:         Tue, 1 Nov 1994 17:37:52 MST
Reply-To:     Highlander TV show stories <HLFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
Sender:       Highlander TV show stories <HLFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
From:         Wendy Milner <wendy@HPCNDFA.CND.HP.COM>
Subject:      (1/4)

                           Raven's Child (1/4)

                            Wendy L. Milner

Copyright 1994 by Wendy L. Milner
All rights reserved.


Hawaii's perfect weather was only enhanced by the thinning traffic
as Johnathan Raven drove his jeep outside of the city to his
private retreat.  He parked off the road on a barely visible
driveway that led to a locked gate.  The sign on the gate looked
government official.  While there was no government installation
beyond it, the sign did its job of keeping away most trespassers.
After unlocking the gate, getting his tools and pack, and locking
the gate again, he started down the path to his unfinished house.
Already his mind was leaving the noise and bustle of the city
behind.  He wrapped the quiet of the forest around him, immersing
himself in tranquility.

Even so, he noticed a sound from the bushes.  It could have been
an animal.  It could have been a bird, or just the breeze.  But he
didn't think so.  Whatever was laying out of sight was watching
him. He resumed his walk till he was just beyond the location of
the watcher. Nimbly, he danced off the trail and reversed
directions, coming on the watcher from behind. Terrified eyes set
in the dirt encrusted face of a child beheld him from beneath a
bush. The child remained motionless as if by its very stillness it
would not be seen.

A torn, bloody and filthy shirt covered the upper body.  Jeans so
camouflaged by dirt they merged with the surrounding ground covered
his lower body.  Johnathan ventured that the child was male by his
hair being shorter than a girl might wear but still reaching below
his ears.

"I won't hurt you," Johnathan said.  He set his pack down and
squatted so that his eyes were about level with the child's.  "You
can come out."  He held his hand out.  The child drew back almost
into himself, for his knees didn't move from their place in the
soil.  "It's alright.  No one will hurt you here." Johnathan could
smell the fear from the child.  He felt rage burning inside himself
that anyone could so maim a child.  Just as quickly he quenched the
fire.  He had to emanate only tranquil thoughts for this child.

Slowly, taking most of an hour to cross a few yards, he closed the
distance between them.  The child remained immobile.  When he was
near enough, he reached out again and took hold of the thin arm of
the child.  He felt bones held together by the barest of skin.  He
felt trembling.  The child did not pull back his arm, but Johnathan
felt him withdraw into himself even more.

"I won't hurt you," he said again, "Come with me now.  I have a
place just down the trail.  I'll get you something to eat."

There was no resistance in the child. Reluctance and fear, but no
fighting.  Johnathan could not believe that anyone could beat a
child to the point of total submission.  If he ever found out who
had done this, that person would regret ever being born. Again, he
quieted his own rage.  He did not want to show this child any
aggression at all.

The normal walk of fifteen minutes took over an hour to complete.
Johnathan talked quietly to the boy.  He was fairly certain it was
a boy. He told the boy about the house he was building.  He didn't
really think it mattered what he said, he just wanted the boy to
know that he was safe.  Once in the clearing, he led the boy to a
spot under the trees where he normally made camp.  The boy stood
still, neither looking about, nor looking at anything except
perhaps the ground.

All day passed doing the little things needed to make a camp.
Johnathan put together a lunch for the two of them and encouraged
the boy to eat.  It took time to even get the boy to sit.  What
Johnathan wanted to do was examine the boy.  His shirt was in
tatters and bloody.  Whatever wounds the boy had were masked by the
grime and dry crusty blood.  The boy didn't show any indications
of being hurt, but he could be past feeling any pain. Any serious
injury should be taken care of, but Johnathan wouldn't force the
boy into anything.

Getting the boy to wash took some doing by itself.  The boy
wouldn't go near the small lake.  Putting a bucket of water near
the boy along with a towel got no response.  Even washing himself,
to show by example, was greeted with a lack of attention.  The boy
was preoccupied with the ground in front of him.  Finally,
Johnathan took the boy's hand and began washing it.  He could feel
the boy tense as he lightly rubbed the cloth across the skin.  Dirt
merged with water to become mud.  Johnathan rinsed the cloth and
continued till the skin of the small hand came clean.  He rinsed
again and bathed the other hand.  Then he brought the cloth up to
the boys face.

The boy flinched, closed his eyes and almost turned away.  His
breathing turned ragged.  Johnathan remained serene.  As delicate
as he could, he washed the boy's face. Under the residue of years
of filth, the skin was clear and unmarred.  There was no bruising
nor cuts.  The cheek bones stood out.  The eyes were wide with a
terror born of years of abuse. But there was no injury.

It took hours to bathe the boy.  Johnathan talked to him quietly,
telling him he would never be hurt again, that he was safe, that
Johnathan would protect him from harm.  He didn't expect the boy
to believe him, he was hoping only that the boy would stop being
so scared.  At the end of the bath, Johnathan could find no injury
at all to the boy.  Whatever had caused the blood to drench the
torn shirt, hadn't come from any current injury to the boy.  There
were however scars across the back, side and arms of the boy that
told of years of torment.

Johnathan maintained his composure by thinking of the positive.
The boy would never go back to the agony of his previous life.
Johnathan would make sure that from this point on, the boy would
have a life free of pain inflicted by others.

Even with supplementing the food he had brought with food he could
find in the area, and with the boy eating less than the half
rations that Johnathan put himself on, they had to finally leave
the retreat.  With the boy wearing one of Johnathan's spare t-
shirts, the boy didn't look like the abused youth he had found.
The eyes would give away what the child had been through, but the
body looked like that of a normal if skinny ten year old.

There was also the silence.  In six days, the boy had made
absolutely no sound.  He made no attempt to communicate at all.
He did not acknowledge that Johnathan was even there except at
times to retreat from a touch.  Six days was not enough time to
begin the healing the boy needed.  In six days, the boy had only
begun to think of anything besides the terror he had left.  It
would take months or even years before he would mend from the
damage done to him.

On returning to the house in the city, Johnathan called his friend
Lisa who ran a shelter for women and children.

"I can't take him," Lisa said looking at the boy who hunched over
himself in the chair to big for the small child. "In his condition,
I really doubt there is anyone who would take him.  Most of the
emergency foster homes are full all the time.  He's going to need
a lot of help for a very long time before he'll be adoptable.
Reality is that he'll probably spend that time in a hospital."

Johnathan shook his head. "No.  He needs some one to care for him.
One person who'll take care of him.  Not some hospital where he'll
be put in a ward with a bunch of other kids who need as much help
as he does.  He's been neglected long enough."

"Then you better do it," Lisa said, "I don't know a more caring
person than you.  Given time, when he starts coming around, you
might be able to find a foster home for him. On the other hand, it
might be easier to give him up now.  You'll be in for a tough time
if you choose to keep him with you.  There's a lot of work in
raising a normal child.  One like him, is going to give you lots
of trouble."

"He isn't trouble.  He's hurt and alone."  He knew she was
manipulating him just by her smile.  There was no way he could let
the child go to an uncaring institution.

"I'll get some paper work started for you.  Make you an official
foster father."

Although the system didn't have a place for the boy, it seemed to
want to make it hard for Johnathan to keep him.  A ream of forms
needed to be filled out.  Ten different agencies had to approve of
the arrangement.  He was questioned on his lifestyle, his home, his
income, his friends, even Ski was questioned.  At least they let
him keep the boy at home during that time.  Johnathan finally
called in a couple of favors to get the process completed.  In all
it took over a month before the system gave it's formal blessing
on the fostering.  During that time, the boy sat and stared at the
floor, the walls, the ground, or whatever was placed in front of
him.

"It official," Johnathan told the boy when the mail came one
afternoon, handing him a letter, which the boy looked at but didn't
touch, "You get to stay here with me.  If you want to stay.  I
would like you to stay with me, but you don't have to.  If you have
another place you want to go to, tell me.  Until then, you have a
home here."  He didn't expect a reply and wasn't disappointed. "We
do need to find you a name though.  What do you think of, Hecktor?"
Johnathan looked to the ceiling as if for guidance, "No, I don't
think so.  What about George? Herman? Bart? Jededia? Alexander?"
He continued with a dozen more names.  None of them invoked any
response.  "Well, let's think about it a bit more then."

His attempt at humor was unappreciated by the boy, but Ski started
coming up with names whenever he dropped by.  The boy didn't seem
to notice.

If he noticed anything, Johnathan couldn't tell.  He at least
started taking care of himself as long as Johnathan wasn't
watching.  He began wondering if it had been such a good idea to
take the boy in himself.  He had no experience with kids especially
with anyone so troubled as this boy.

"Good night," he said as he did every night as he turned off the
light to the boy's room.  Two months had passed since finding the
boy.

"It's David," a whisper came from the dark, "My name is David."

David wasn't sure he should trust Johnathan.  Sure, Johnathan
hadn't hurt him yet, but that didn't mean he wouldn't start. Most
of the homes he'd been in were ok for a few months.  Once he got
settled in, that's when they would start hitting him.  Of course,
it wasn't really Johnathan he feared so much as it was Ski.  The
loud, usually drunk, over weight friend of Johnathan would be the
one to start the hitting.  One day Johnathan would leave David in
the care of Ski and it would all start again.  There was nothing
David could do about it.  It would just happen all over again.

In some ways Johnathan was different from the other foster parents
David had had.  For one thing he was quiet, quite a contrast to the
shouting and just general noise of the other homes.  Johnathan
talked softly, moved quietly and even worked almost in silence.
It was a welcomed relief from the last place where rock music was
always blaring from the tower speakers.  David closed his mind to
that place.  He couldn't recall exactly what had occurred that last
night, and he didn't want to remember.

David knew better than to stay in bed past sunrise. Laziness was
not tolerated and he'd been punished often enough for sleeping late
to cause him to wake at the first shade of light coming in his
window. He got up and quickly made his bed.  Hearing no sound
outside his door, he crept to the bathroom and hurried to wash up.
Johnathan seemed like an immaculate person who would not abide dirt
of any form.  He even made guests to the house take their shoes off
before coming in.  The orderly house was impeccable.  Everything
had its precise location. David had watched Johnathan put a book
back in the bookcase in exactly the same location as it had been
take from.  If a guest moved an object, Johnathan would return it
when the guest left.  David had seen such compulsive behavior
before.  It led to many beatings when David couldn't function in
the same manner.  Here he tried to keep things neat, clean up after
himself, return the towels to the rack in exactly the same way as
they'd been before he used them, and overall, tried to be
invisible.  If he wasn't seen, maybe he wouldn't be battered again.

Back in his room, he sat on the floor in a corner.  He watched the
door and listened for the sound of anyone outside that door.  He
could wait a long time without moving.  He did that now, almost
falling asleep before a faint scratching sound brought his
attention back to the door.  In the sliver of light beneath the
door was a shadow of a lizard.  As it scurried toward him, its feet
made the lightest of scratching on the wooden floor.  It crossed
half the distance between him and the door, before realizing that
David was there.  Perhaps David moved.  In any case the lizard
whipped around and scurried back under the door.

David still didn't hear any sound of Johnathan.  He got brave and
followed the lizard out the door.  Crawling along, he saw the
lizard under a cabinet. The lizard was frozen against the wall, a
bit of sunlight reflecting off its blue green throat.  David
watched without moving for fear of making it run again.

"What do you have there?"

David jumped back, saw Johnathan kneeling beside him, and scurried
in much the same way the lizard had on seeing him.  He backed into
something, felt it rock and heard a crash.  He raced backwards as
fast as he could.  He found himself trapped between a wall and a
bookcase.  He dropped to the floor, curled up and into the wall.

Johnathan felt as if some one had just grabbed his heart and
squeeze. For a second he could not breath as he watched the boy's
terror.  He hadn't meant to scare the boy, only share in whatever
had finally caught the boy's interest.  He looked under the chest
and saw the lizard.  He reached out his hand and snatched the
lizard from its hiding place.  Then he went over to the boy,
stepping around what had once been an antique Japanese vase.  He
squatted beside the boy, watched the boy's entire body shake with
fear, and cursed himself for the mistake he'd made.

"Why don't you take him outside," Johnathan said holding his hands
out with the lizard cupped between them, "I think he's a bit
frightened of all the attention.  He'd be happier outside."

Johnathan waited. He didn't know what else to do.  He knelt beside
the boy not knowing how long it would take before the boy would
stir.

David held his place.  He was conscious of Johnathan beside him and
waited for the hitting to begin.  He could still hear the crash of
whatever he ran into.  That would get him a beating for sure.  He
knew from experience that getting hit on the back was a lot better
than being punched in the stomach or face.  He curled a bit tighter
and waited for it to begin.

Distantly David heard the clock strike the hour.  He counted out
the ten chimes and realized nothing had happened.  He dared to open
his eyes and found Johnathan still beside him.  There was no anger
in the face that looked back at him.  David didn't understand.

"I think the lizard needs to go out," Johnathan said holding out
his cupped hands where the lizard sat immobile.

David moved stiffly, clumsily, nearly falling over as he adjusted
his position.  Johnathan remained stationary waiting till David had
settled before offering him the lizard once more.  The clock ticked
off the time before David opened his hands to receive the lizard.

"Now take him outside and let him go," Johnathan said.  He got up
slowly and left the room.  Only when he saw the boy go outside, did
he get the broom and begin cleaning up the shards of porcelain.

David set the lizard on the stone bench in the sun.  It seemed to
be sleeping for several minutes.  Then the heat of the sunlight
reached it, and it dashed off between the pots of orchids.  David
didn't understand.  He waited for the sun to warm him too.  Inside
his stomach was tied in knots.  He stopped shaking after awhile,
but he still couldn't smother the fear that Johnathan was just
waiting for the right time to punish him.

As the days then weeks passed, David began to allow himself a
little hope that maybe this time things would be different.  He
still hid every time Ski came over, made himself small and
inconspicuous, and when he could, put himself completely out of
sight.  But there were times when he was forced to be in the
company of Johnathan's friend.

Ski invited them out to the boat for a day of fishing.  David
recognized the code words.  It would be a drunken party with David
as the main entertainment.  He saw no way to get out of the trip.
On the morning of the trip, David thought about getting sick and
saying he couldn't go.  It might work, if he could convince
Johnathan.  Unfortunately, Johnathan had showed that he could see
through most people.  On the drive down to the harbor, David came
up with another idea. Johnathan would probably give him a load to
carry to the boat.  David could pretend it was heavy and lag
behind. Then, when Johnathan wasn't looking, David could just run
away.  It might have worked, except Johnathan didn't let him lag
behind.  Johnathan stayed right beside him.  David felt trapped as
they came up to the boat.

The boat was a mess.  How Johnathan could have a friend like this
was beyond David's comprehension.  The smell of stale beer
permeated the boat.  David stowed the lunch basket and other gear
down in the cabin.  The rankness of the recess of the boat made him
gag.  Too many times thrashings were preceded by that odor.  Still,
while he was downstairs and the other were upstairs, he couldn't
been seen and might be forgotten.  He found a niche, crouched there
and waited for the terror to begin again.

Johnathan went into the cabin when he realized that David wasn't
coming back up.  Crammed between the bench and the bulkhead he saw
the boy in hiding.  He had to stop and take a deep breath before
he could continue.  It had been over a month since he had seen the
boy hiding in terror.  Somehow, he thought the worse was over, that
the boy had begun to trust him.  Now, he wondered if the boy would
ever be able to trust anyone.

After they left the harbor, Ski came down to see what was keeping
Johnathan and David.  He found Johnathan sitting on the floor next
to the dinette bench.

"What are you doing down there?" Ski asked.

"David's a bit nervous about the trip," Johnathan said, "We'll just
stay here awhile."

"OK by me, but you're missing all the sun," Ski retreated back
upstairs.

Johnathan held David's hand lightly.  When Ski had come down,
Johnathan felt David tense and hold his breath.  Only after Ski had
left, did David start breathing again.  Perhaps it wasn't the trip
that was the problem, but rather Ski.  As he thought about it,
David always made himself scarce when Ski was around.  Johnathan
had attributed the disappearing act as something David did with all
people who came visiting, but now he realized that David was
terrified of Ski in particular.

"Ski would never hurt you," Johnathan said, "I promised you I
wouldn't let anyone hurt you and I meant it.  If I thought you were
in any danger here, I'd never have brought you.  I will protect you
from even your imagined fears.  I think this time, you need to face
those fears and see that there is nothing to base them on."  He
felt David clench.  "I'm going upstairs now.  You can join us when
you are ready."

Letting go of David's hand was difficult on an emotionally level.
It was up to David now, Johnathan thought as he eased himself away
from the boy.  He was asking the boy to trust him and he wasn't all
that sure the boy could do it.

"So what's up?" Ski asked when Johnathan joined up topside.

"David is afraid of you."

"Me.  Why?" Ski was perplexed.  He couldn't remember saying more
than a couple of words to the boy.  Usually David was no where to
be found when Ski came over to the house.

"I don't know.  He's afraid of everyone, even me at times.  Maybe
he just needs more time.  For now, let's leave him alone.  He'll
come up if he wants to."

David counted himself lucky.  For a minute he had thought that
Johnathan was going to force him upstairs.  Instead, being left
alone was a welcome reprieve.  The constant pressure of Johnathan
sitting beside him was hard to endure.  Now he could breath easier.
He let his head sink to his knees and closed his eyes.

The rocking of the boat lulled him to sleep.  Morning had come
before dawn so they could get an early start on the fishing.  David
felt himself drifting off, stopped himself a couple of times, and
finally succumbed to the soft sounds and gentle rocking.  Even in
his sleep though, he listened for the sound of footsteps that would
proclaim his peace at an end.  The nightmares came before anyone
interrupted his sleep.  He awoke drenched in sweat.  The dreams
were too clear, being tossed from one drunken man to another, made
to drink beer till he was sick, then being thrown overboard when
he started to vomit on the deck.  He felt the bile rising in his
throat.  His stomach convulsed.  He rocked forward and spewed his
meager breakfast on the floor.  He was racked with convulsions
unable to stop even when he felt the hands holding him.  When
Johnathan picked him up and carried him upstairs, he knew it was
over.  He was going to be thrown in the water and he couldn't swim.
But it didn't matter anymore.  He didn't think that drowning would
be that bad a way to die.
=========================================================================