Date: Tue, 1 Nov 1994 17:39:58 MST Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Wendy Milner Subject: Raven's Child (2/4) Raven's Child (2/4) Wendy L. Milner Copyright 1994 by Wendy L. Milner All rights reserved. Time is the great healer, it is said, but Johnathan questioned that when it came to David. What he saw was slow improvement over the months that followed. David began to function on the surface to the point he started going to a special school. What Johnathan did not see was healing inside. David still flinched whenever anyone got close enough to touch him. He would hide inside himself whenever questioned about anything more serious than what he wanted to eat for lunch. The counselors said that David was progressing and not to worry about how long it took. Johnathan wondered if they saw the same boy that he did. David couldn't sleep. After Johnathan turned off the light for the night, David stared out at the cloudy sky. There was a hurricane coming, the weather report had said. The wind had already picked up, and the afternoon rains had been more fierce than usual. David liked the chaotic weather of the big storms. They made him feel alive with electricity as if some how he could harness all the energy in the sky and control the lightening. Since the adults usually got drunk during the storms and ignored him, he would go outside and stand in the rain and wind, face the lightening and dare it to strike him. He would feel it tingling his skin, making his hair stand on end. Drenched in the rain and standing in the water, he challenged the lightning to strike him. It never had, and he supposed he was lucky that it hadn't. It would have killed him for sure, not that death would have been unwelcome. Still, the feeling of the storms made him want to run outside now rather than try to sleep. When he saw shadows dancing on his walls, he got up to see what was going on outside. From the living room he could see the tiki lamps lit, their flames cavorting in the wind and casting wild phantoms in the darkened house. One of the phantoms stood in the middle of the deck with a sword in his hands. Johnathan moved to unheard music and he executed some complex pattern of steps that David could not understand. David stood beside the glass door and watched the performance. After Johnathan stood still for a minute, the ever stronger wind blowing in his dark hair, Johnathan turned and faced David. David almost jumped back. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" Johnathan asked. David was afraid he had witnessed something he shouldn't have. Maybe this time, Johnathan would beat him. But he wasn't sure anymore of that certainty. "I couldn't sleep," he said softly. "The storms do that to me too," Johnathan said. He cradled the sword in his arm and walked toward David. David tried to hold his ground, but knew he shrank back a little as Johnathan got close. Johnathan walked by him pretending not to notice his effect on David. He slid the sword into it scabbard before walking on into the kitchen. "How about a cup of hot chocolate before you go back to bed?" he asked. David held his breath a second. "OK," he said a bit raggedly. He went to the table and sat there, close enough to see what Johnathan was doing, without being in the way. Maybe there would be no beating this time either. During the zenith of the storm, David left his room and went outside. The hurricane's path was a hundred miles off shore causing winds and rains and high tides without the major destruction that came with being in the direct path of the storm. David stood in the torrential rain feeling its power, trying to draw into himself some of the strength, the vitality, the raw energy he felt surrounding him. His own frailty and flawed existence forgotten as he stood facing up at the force greater than any he had ever felt on earth. Johnathan stood at the door watching the boy face the might of the storm. He suppressed his initial reaction to bring the boy inside the house. It was warm enough and the storm light enough that no real harm would come of the excursion out into the tempest. Whatever the boy was feeling, Johnathan didn't want to interfere. He might not understand why David was out there, but he was going to give the boy as much capacity to expand as he wanted. After placing several towels by the door, he went into the kitchen and made some tea. A solid gust of wind knocked David to the ground. He lay in the mud for a moment, blinded by the rain, unsure of his surroundings. He was cold now. The exhilaration of the storm was past. He got up and fought his way to the back door of the house. Inside lights were now on. He hesitated a moment before sliding the door back and slipping inside. A towel on the floor and more on the chair told him Johnathan knew he was outside. He stepped on the one towel and took another to start drying off. He removed his shirt and dropped in on the floor towel. He rubbed himself dry from the head down to his waist. He dropped his pants then, quickly covered himself. When he was as dry as he could get, he rolled his clothes up in the towel and carried them to the bathroom where he wrung them out over the tub and hung them to dry. He went to his room and put on his pajamas. He jumped when Johnathan knocked on the door. "Come in," he said hesitantly. Johnathan brought the tray with tea and toast. "Have something to eat before you go back to bed." He put the tray on the small desk. "Night time exercise isn't always good for you." David stared at the tray a long time after Johnathan left. No scolding, no hitting, no yelling, not even a lecture. He began to wonder if maybe this place was alright. Maybe he could stay here and not have to hide every time an adult came by. Johnathan thought he saw a difference in David in the morning. He wasn't sure just what it was, and since school was still in session, there wasn't much time to observe. As days passed, he was sure something had changed, but he couldn't say what it was. Ski was the first to recognize the behavior. It puzzled him only because he hardly ever saw the boy. When he came over to bum the house for a party, he saw David and dismissed him since he would always disappear the moment Ski arrived. A few minutes later, he noticed David was still in the room. "How you doing?" he asked. "Fine," David said. He was trying to be unobtrusive. His stomach was still tight. But maybe he wouldn't get into trouble just by being there. He saw the look that passed between Ski and Johnathan. He hid his face in the school book he was trying to read. School books piled up. Old ones were discarded. New ones replaced the old. David was smart enough to move out of the special placement school into the nearby public school. He might not be the same as the other boys in his class; however, he was functioning at least outwardly on their level. He walked to school on his own, and returned when school was out. Johnathan was usually home when he arrived. On those occasions when Johnathan was out, David would find a neatly printed note on the table. David would take out whatever home work he had, and start at it. It was nearing the end of the school year. The day was hot and humid. David dropped his books on the desk in his room and went to rummage in the fridge. He had found an ally in Ski without saying a word. Johnathan ate only good wholesome foods. They were alright most of the time, but David really preferred junk food once in awhile. Ski had horrendous eating habits. He also thought that a boy David's age needed more than fish, vegetables and tea. So on his frequent visits, he brought over sodas, candy, cookies, steaks, pizzas and other delicacies. David grabbed a Coke from the fridge and went to do his home work. On the way out of the kitchen, he saw Johnathan's sword resting against the couch. He knew without being told that the sword was off limits. Just the way that Johnathan held it, placed it exactly so, and looked at it, told David that it was special. He knew better than even touch it. He also knew that Johnathan would be another hour before returning home. Placing the Coke on the table, he walked softly over to the sword. He looked at it from various angles, memorizing its exact location for later placement before picking it up. The sword slid from the scabbard like ice on a hot plate, sizzling hot and cold at the same time, catching the sun on the polished blade and reflecting David's image back to him. He didn't look into mirrors much, not liking what he saw there. Here in the blade he saw his shaggy blond hair in need of a combing, and his eyes wide with the fear of being caught. Still he held the blade in front of him. He wondered how sharp it might be. Laying the blade on his arm, he thought he'd test it by shaving the hairs from the back of his arm. He moved ever so slightly. The blade carved smoothly through the skin peeling it back the width of the blade to the bone. As blood began to ooze through the wound, David pulled back the blade and dropped it. It landed edge first on his leg, making another slice through Levis, skin and muscle. David couldn't breath. He tried to crawl away from the object of his destruction. The sword seemed to follow him, tangling in his legs, cutting through part of his knee and slicing into his calf before he was finally free of it. A trail of blood led from the sword across the floor smeared by David's crawl to the bathroom where he tried to stanch the flow first by just holding on, then by wrapping a towel around his arm. The blood seeped unstanched from the wounds on his leg. As Johnathan came into the house, he sensed something wrong. The books on the table along with the Coke said David was home. The smell of blood put fear into his heart. He saw the katana laying beside the couch covered with blood. He shouted David's name as he ran along the stained carpet and wood. He found David sitting in a pool of blood on the floor in the bathroom. He was rocking himself. His face was whiter than the towel wrapped around his arm. His face was frozen, staring at nothing. Johnathan knelt beside him, carefully removed the blood soaked towel, and found no wound on David's arm. He looked at the torn jeans drenched in blood. Wiping away the blood, he again saw no wounds. Who was cut if not David? He cleaned up David and put him to bed. There was no sign of injury to David except the blood and the cuts on the Levis. Johnathan could not explain it, and David still wasn't responding to anything. He cleaned up the mess in the bathroom and living room, shampooing the carpet twice to get most of the blood out. He stayed in David's room the rest of the night and on through the day. "You look like the morning after the night before," Ski said the next day, "And I bet you didn't even enjoy it as much as I would have. What's up?" "David hurt himself," Johnathan said. It was all he could say because he hadn't found any other explanation. The blood trail had led from the katana to David. The blood must have some how come from David, only there was no way to explain the lack on wounds. David kept his nightmares to himself. He too had no explanation for what had happened, but it wasn't new to him. Unwillingly he remembered the last night at the previous foster home. He'd done something stupid, sliced his hand when a plate slipped and broke. He'd tried to clean up the mess before anyone found out and put a piece of the grocery store china deep into his palm. That was when she came in. First she screamed at him for the breakage, then shrieked some more that he was dripping blood on her so called hand braided Woolworth's rug. He'd left the room and run to the bathroom to clean himself up. Only by the time he had crossed through the apartment, the wound had already healed. When her current boy friend arrived, she wailed some more in her shrill voice till the boy friend came and hauled David from his room. There was no wound. She had over reacted. Wounds didn't heal that fast. She was nuts. He would prove it. And he took out a knife and gashed David's arm. Blood poured out in a rhythmic pattern, flowing onto the beer stained carpet. He jumped back then backhanded David across the face. David went to the floor, curled into a ball and tried to stop the blood. It didn't take long for the flow to slow then ceased. They were screaming at each other again. David thought he could crawl out of the room. Instead, he was jerked up and pitched into the wall. David didn't remember much of the beating. It was worse than usual in that it didn't stop, and the knife was used too frequently. When the darkness came, David slid down gratefully. When he woke, he was in the ditch beside the road. He'd crawled to safety under the bushes and felt a little bit safe till Johnathan came along. Now it would start over again. Not only had he touched the sword, but he'd also made a mess all over the floor. Doubled damned in his own mind. How long would Johnathan hold out before thrashing him? Johnathan hated the fear he saw in David's eyes. It was as if David were still the urchin under the bushes. Whatever progress David had made seemed lost. The counselors had said there might be set backs, to ignore them, start at the beginning whenever necessary, don't get mad or frustrated. It was hard to take that advice, hard to imagine that a child could be so scarred as to retreat into utter terror over a minor transgression. Johnathan went back to his litany that he'd used when the boy first came. The councilors called the relapse slight. David seemed better in only a week. He was back in school the week after that. Johnathan saw more for longer. David had almost stopped flinching when some one was near. Now it was back worse than when he first arrived. How many more years would it take before David would not be afraid? Summer went by with David waiting for the retribution to come. Without school, he was forced to spend most of his time with Johnathan. Although Johnathan never made an aggressive move toward David, David was sure it would come. They never forgot your errors no matter how trivial, and this one had been a doozy. When school came again, David almost relaxed. At least in class, he didn't have to be afraid. He was safe alone. He was mostly safe at school. And nothing had happened to him at home, yet. He didn't completely let down his guard. It was not possible to do that. The change that came was sudden and to David completely unexpected. He didn't see who had put the graffiti on the wall outside the house. He knew he'd be blamed and tried to clean it off before Johnathan could see it. Only Johnathan came around the corner before David had done much more than start to scrub. Johnathan pulled him away from the wall. "Get in the house," Johnathan came as close to yelling as David had ever heard him. "Now," when David froze. David ran into his room. It was starting. It wasn't his fault. He hadn't painted the wall with the Japanese letters. He didn't even know how to write them. Johnathan came into his room, the katana in his hand. "Stay right beside me," he said holding the door open. David came forward reluctantly. Would Johnathan cut him with the sword? Was that his punishment? Johnathan grabbed him arm and pushed him into the living room. He took the phone, punched the quick dial button for Ski, waited a moment then spoke quickly. "Come to the house. Now." He slammed down the phone. He looked around the house and then drug David over to the cabinet. He pushed David down between the cabinet and the wall. "Stay there." David wouldn't go anywhere. His fears were finally released. Johnathan was going to be worse than any of the others. He was a crazy man now, racing from room to room, staring out windows, sword always in hand. There had been one man who had seen invisible enemies and ended up taking it out on David. Maybe Johnathan was like him. Quite most of the time. In a violent rage for no apparent reason later. Ski's car screeched to a stop out front. Ski came running inside with a gun in each hand. "What?" he asked seeing Johnathan. "Black Dragons. Take David out on the boat. Go out to sea. Get lost for a few days. I'll call when it's safe to return." David was right. They were going to kill him. Drown him at sea. He wouldn't let it happen. Not this time. He could run away. If he stayed away, they might not come for him. If he ran far enough and fast enough, they wouldn't be able to find him. The door was still open. He bolted for it. He heard Ski and Johnathan yelling after him. He had a head start. A car slid sideways next to him. The door open. A Japanese man pulled him into the car. Something hit the back of his head and he lost consciousness. Johnathan chases after the car on foot. Ski ran back to the caddy, tried to quick start it and ended up flooding it. He went to Johnathan's jeep and got it running, then went after Johnathan. He found him more than a mile down the road still running, but no car in sight. Together they drove the roads and cross streets finding nothing. David woke while still in the car, and played dead rather than get hit again. After the car stopped, they hauled him out of the car and into a construction trailer. David got only enough of a look around the construction site to realize he didn't know where he was. Inside the trailer, they wrapped his wrists and ankles with electrical tape and then pushed him into a closet. Enough light came under the door that he could see his surroundings, but there wasn't much except file cabinets to see. David found a spot where he could be a little comfortable and sat to wait. He heard them talking in the outer room in Japanese. He didn't understand more than a few words of the language so he couldn't learn anything from them. He didn't understand why they had taken him. He didn't know who they were, so how did they know him? What did they want? David figured that if he made any noise, they would just come in and beat on him, so he stayed silent, rested his head on his knees and waited. Darkness had come, then the glare of artificial lights. The door opened without warning. David was blinded by the bright lights. Some one hauled him upright and pulled him out of the closet and into the room. Several Japanese men in black business suits faced him. David faced the floor. "So this is Raven's child," one of the men spoke in English, "Not much to look at, is he." Whatever else was supposed to happen was interrupted by an explosion in the constructing yard. "Raven," the man swore. Then he turned to the one holding David and said, "Kill the boy." David saw a glint of steel and felt the blade driving into his back. He stayed awake just long enough to see the men running out the door into the dark. As the pain subsided from his back, David dared to open his eyes. He was on the floor behind a desk. From there he could see under the desk and through the open door. Flames engulfed most of the construction yard. He thought he was alone, at least there were no feet visible. He started to sit up when some one came into the room. David played dead again. =========================================================================