The Past III Part 7

The Past III
Part 7

January 6, 1983

Dan was at the end of his fourth day back at school when his past smacked flat into his future. He was in the process of switching trains on his way back to his room above the restaurant when he found himself thrust roughly against a brick wall.

“Well, well, well.” Luke Clevik’s voice sounded in Dan’s ear. “I was wondering where you disappeared to, Danny-Manny. Long time no see.”

Dan’s heart sank to his stomach as he was turned to face Luke. It started pumping faster when he recognized the five faces behind the gang leader. Alan, Willie, Sandy, Kerm, and Derek, all dressed in their boots and leather Cowhands jackets.

“Nice tie.” Luke said, grabbing it and pulling Dan into a nearby alley. “Looks like you got yourself a new uniform. I don’t like it.”

“Leave me alone Luke.” Dan pulled his face into a scowl. “I don’t owe you nuthin’. You tossed me. I found another place. Back off. I’m out.”

Luke’s slap was light, leaving only a slight sting on Dan’s left cheek. The hand that grasped his chin was less gentle. “It ain’t that easy, Danny-boy. You don’t make the rules. I do. And I say you’re in.” With a twist of his hand, Luke let go of Dan’s face. “I think you’ll be back tonight. Or else.”

Dan swallowed his fear and mustered a defiant stance. “Or else what? You’ll hurt me? You’ll break my bones? Go ahead. What’s one more time?”

Luke grinned and his eyes glittered. “I’ll find your place,” he threatened. “Just like before. I’ll make whoever’s keeping you pay first. Then you.” He backed away, signaling to his crew. Sandy and Derek moved forward, each one grabbing one of Dan’s arms. Once he was immobilized, Luke moved forward again.

“I think you look a little too clean, Mangan. Too much choirboy, not enough Cowhand. Let me fix that for you.” He let loose his fist, plowing it into Dan’s stomach. As Dan doubled over, a second fist caught the side of his face. “Come home, Danny. Don’t make me come after you.” Luke snapped his fingers and his thugs dropped Dan to the ground. When he looked up, they were gone.

Dan pulled himself together and started home. He switched trains four times, trying to cover his tracks. Although he knew now that Luke had not actually set the fire in New Jersey, Dan was pretty sure his so-called friend was capable of that and much more. The trapped feeling he thought he’d left behind was returning tenfold.

That night the first warning occurred. A brick came crashing through the window of Grigori’s Russian Cafe. The window shattered, but fortunately, no one was hurt. The Maxims wrote it off to random violence. Dan tried to tell himself it was a coincidence, but deep down, he knew better.

The second threat came on Friday. Joe and Lana Maxim were set upon while on their way home from school. His face bloodied, his body bruised, Joe was unable to identify his two attackers. Lana had been terrorized, but unharmed. She was able to describe the culprits, although she could not identify them. Dan, however, was sure he knew who had ordered the beating. His sense of despair returned. He became silent and moody, and packed up his few belongings. The time was coming. He would be leaving shortly.

Dan’s change in demeanor did not go unnoticed by the Maxims, but it did take a back seat to good news from the hospital. Yaya was fully recovered and being discharged. The entire family gathered to celebrate her return.

Yelena Maxim was wheeled into the restaurant owned by her oldest son Grigori, at half past two on Sunday, January 9th. Twenty-six members of her family were present for her homecoming, as was Dan. Yaya’s eyes lit up with pleasure when she spied Dan, half-hidden behind Nikodim and his children. She gestured to him, and he reluctantly came forward and knelt next to her chair.

One gnarled hand stroked his dark head as she spoke. “Oh, it is good to see you, my Daniel. I was afraid for you.”

Dan smiled, his first genuine smile in the past few days. “I’m glad you’re out of the hospital. I’ve missed you.”

“Do my children take care of you well?” she asked.

“They’ve been great...” Dan began his reply, just as the front window of the restaurant exploded inward with a burst of flame. Chaos ensued. Mothers ran for their children while the men beat out the flames that threatened to engulf the curtains. Dan felt a brief jolt as Dasha pushed her grandmother’s wheelchair to safety. From his place on the floor, Dan had a perfect view of the damage. A glass bottle stuffed with a rag, most likely soaked in gasoline, had been ignited and thrown through the recently repaired window. Luke. It had to have been. Taking advantage of the turmoil, Dan slipped from the room and up the back stairs. It was past time for him to leave.

It didn’t take long, as he had been packed and ready for the last two days. The toiletries he had been given, a change of Eli Maxim’s old clothes, the boots he had been wearing when he arrived, and the notebook and letter from Tessa. He tore a page from the notebook and scrawled a quick note.

I can’t stay any more. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.
I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.
Thank you for everything,

Dan

He left the note hanging on the dresser mirror and slipped out through the back. Dan could hear the sirens of the arriving police and fire response as he carried his meager possessions away from the Maxim family. He’d be back in the Bowery before dinner.

III Past 6
Index
III Past 8
Main