 
### Channing Beck

By

J. W. Dickson

Copyright 2014 J. W. Dickson

Smashwords Edition

Cover art courtesy of Jennifer L. Bane Copyright 2014
Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

## Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

## Chapter One

Channing Beck walked quickly down the tree lined street. Keeping his head down and glancing up and down the street and side to side with quick head and eye movements. The sun was not quite above the horizon and the gray predawn light made it hard to see anything more than shapes at a distance. At 14 his five foot six frame was tall for his age, but he was on the slender side. Medium length sandy hair and brilliant green eyes had more than one girl in his class interested in him.

"Do you see them?" Channing asked.

" _No."_ The voice answered.

Channing crossed the street one block from his house. "Should we go on or turn and go up the alley?"

" _Do not use the alley! If they catch you there, there is no telling what they would do to you. Stick to the streets."_ The voice said.

Channing had heard this before, maybe it was from one of the DARE officers, or it could have been from his parents, but now he was scared. He had just moved to his third house in six years. Soon after he started walking to school he found out three bullies from his new school were intercepting kids on their way to school and taking money from them.

They had caught Channing more than a month ago during the very first week of the school year. Channing had seen them cross the street to get in front of him. He had thought it strange that they were walking away from the school when everyone else on the street was walking to the school.

The three of them blocked the sidewalk, which was not hard, since each of them was both taller and heavier than Channing. They sounded at first like they wanted to befriend Channing.

"Hey, ain't you that new kid?" The leader said. He was by far the biggest. Channing later had found out his name was Howard Hanes. The other two, Jordan Flate and Jimmy Newsome were slightly smaller in height and girth.

"Un-huh." Murmured Channing.

"Ya got any money, new kid?" This was the smallest of the three, Jimmy Newsome.

"Just lunch money." Channing answered.

"Hand it over." Howard said.

"I need this money for lunch." Channing said innocently.

"Well we need it more than you do." Howard said as he stepped forward and slammed a sucker punch into Channing's stomach.

Channing doubled over and fell to his hands and knees on the sidewalk. He never dreamed this could happen to him, after all he had taken karate lessons for five years. He was a brown belt and knew how to defend himself. But his last lesson was more than a year ago, before they became too expensive. He had not kept up the practice that would have helped him here.

At first he thought he was going to throw up, then things seemed to go dim and he thought he was going to pass out. He did not even feel the three bullies going through his pockets to get his money.

Channing rolled over on his side and began to whimper. He thought he was too old to cry so he was fighting back tears as he lay on his side and began to catch his breath.

After a short while Channing raised himself up to a sitting position. He looked around and did not see anyone. Even the three bullies were long gone.

Still fighting tears Channing slowly got to his feet and walked home.

By time he walked in the back door he was crying.

He yelled for his mom, but then realized she had left for work. Channing went into the living room where the television was playing. His dad was passed out on the couch. There were empty beer bottles everywhere.

Channing shook his dad's shoulder, "Dad," he sobbed. "Dad, three boys just robbed me and hit me in the stomach."

His dad gave an inaudible response and pushed Channing's hand away.

"Dad," now Channing was crying and nearly screaming. "Dad, I just got beat up."

His dad opened his eyes just a slit. "You got beat up?"

"Yeah, three older guys hit me and took my lunch money."

This information seemed to baffle Channing's dad. He stared at Channing through glassy bloodshot eyes, "you got beat up?" he mumbled again.

"They hit me in the stomach...they took my lunch money..." Channing began to explain between sobs.

His dad pushed Channing's hand away again. "Go fix your own lunch." He then rolled over on his side facing away from Channing.

Channing could not believe it at first. His dad had always been there for him. Channing had grown up through his first 12 years in an upper middle class home being given all that a young boy could want.

Still crying, Channing backed away from the couch. He turned and ran up the stairs to his bedroom. He slammed the door hard enough to wake the dead, hoping his father would hear it. He wasn't sure if he wanted to annoy his father, or he just wanted his father to acknowledge him by coming upstairs and beating his ass like he threatened to do so often lately.

Channing threw himself on the bed and began to cry in earnest. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he could taste the salty tears as they made it to his mouth. Burying his face into his pillow he cried, and cried....

## Chapter Two

Channing did not remember falling asleep. He raised his head from his tear soaked pillow and answered "What!" to a remembered voice in his dream.

" _Channing."_

"What?" Channing answered again. This time he began to sit up in bed. The fog in his head was slowly clearing. Maybe his mom had come home from work early. Maybe his dad wanted to go someplace with him.

"What?" Channing answered even louder.

" _You don't have to shout I am right here."_ The voice said.

Channing stomach got a knot as he looked quickly around his room.

"Wher...e?" Channing stammered. He began to slide to the side of the bed, a knot forming in his stomach.

" _I am right here with you, you can hear me, but you can not see me. That would not be allowed."_

Channing slid off the bed and stepped towards the door. "You're a voice in my head?" Channing voice was quivering and scared. "I...I...."

Channing moved to the door and threw it opened.

" _Don't go, I just want to help."_

Channing ran down the steps screaming. He ran to the living room where his dad had been, and found the couch empty.

He continued to scream as he moved to the kitchen. Empty. He looked quickly out of the kitchen to the driveway and saw his dad's car was gone.

" _Channing, your parents can not help you right now, I can. If you just give me a little time to explain."_

"Stay away from me." Channing screamed. "I don't want you, I don't need your help. People who hear voices in their head are crazy, and I am not crazy. Just stay away from me."

Silence.

"Did you hear me, just stay away!"

Still silence, Channing heard nothing.

Channing ran out the kitchen door, down the steps and across the backyard to a point behind the garage. Whoever lived at this house before had built a large wooden shed behind the detached garage. Channing had claimed it immediately as his club house. Even though he had no friends at his new school to invite over. And despite the fact that the shed was more than half full of junk left behind by who knows how many renters. He still liked to go there and sit in an old lawn chair when he needed some privacy.

Channing began to think about the voice he had heard. It said it could help. But how? Hearing voices could only mean one thing, I am going crazy, Channing thought. A knot filled Channing's stomach and he said out loud, "OK, lets think this thing out. If I tell mom and dad that I heard a voice, they will call the guys in the white suites and take me away."

Channing stood up and began pacing around the small area of the shed he had cleared of junk.

"Telling mom and dad may not help me right now." Channing sat back down.

The noise of a car pulling into the driveway told Channing that his dad had returned home.

Channing looked carefully out of the only window in the shed and saw his dad walking towards the back door with a package under his arm.

More beer, Channing thought.

Suddenly Channing's heart stopped. What if his dad noticed he wasn't home? Channing calmed down quickly as he realized he was supposed to be in school right now. His stomach told him it wasn't quite lunch time, so his dad would not expect him to be home, and Channing doubted his dad would remember Channing waking him up this morning. What about tomorrow when his parents found out he had missed school today.

Channing thought he was had, but then a wonderful idea hit him. I'll tell them I got sick on the way to school and came back home and went to bed. Channing felt sure the plan would work. He even felt some satisfaction that his dad might feel guilty about being passed out drunk when his son needed him.

Even as the thought went through his mind, Canning began to cry. "Dad...I miss you so much, I need you."

It took some time for the crying to subside, but it finally did. Channing was getting hungry now and wondered if he could sneak into the house and fix himself lunch. Would his dad be passed out again? Suddenly an idea hit Channing. If the voice in my head said it could help, then I will give it a test, if it passes, then it will help me, if it can't do the test then it can get lost.

Channing wanted to call out to the voice but he suddenly realized he didn't know how. What do you call a voice in your head? How do you let it know you want to talk?

"Voice?" Channing said out loud. "Voice, can you hear me?" He said a little louder.

Silence.

"Come on, you're the one who said you could help, so where are you now?"

Silence.

## Chapter Three

The next morning as Channing prepared to walk to school he was a little more than apprehensive about the bullies that had robbed him. He did not know that the bullies were too smart to be in the same neighborhood two days in a row. A lot of students they shook down liked to bring their parents with them for a few days after they had been robbed. Even the police were known to step up patrols in the neighborhood, if the parents yelled loud enough.

It was actually three weeks later when Channing saw the bullies again. He had returned to a routine, walk to school, walk home, eat, do his homework, go to bed. He rarely saw his mom who worked two jobs, and his dad was either drunk, passed out, or not at home. And the Voice was almost forgotten.

Channing missed the days when his family would eat every evening meal together. They would sometimes go shopping even in the middle of the week. Channing loved to go with them because they would almost always get him something if he asked.

Weekends were especially pleasant. Trips to relatives, camping, fishing, trips to the zoo. His dad even took him to see several minor league baseball games, and promised when he got older they would see more, even traveling to several cities to see the big leagues play.

He often daydreamed about how things use to be, and was doing so on his way to school one morning. He did not notice the three boys crouched behind a bush at the end of a sidewalk leading to house within a block of the school.

The boys jumped out just as Channing approached the bush. The boys scared Channing; he remembered the pain from the punch to the stomach he had suffered before.

"Well, well, well, we meet again. Still have our lunch money new kid?" The biggest boy, Howard Hanes said.

Channing did not know if he should cry out or try to outrun the bullies when, _"Channing listen to me. There is a house just twenty feet to your left. Run across the yard, up the stairs to the front porch and knock on the door as loud as you can."_

"What..." Stammered Channing. "What if...."

"What if what?" Said Howard puzzled. "Give us your money or we'll beat the piss outa ya." All three boys were smiling at the prospect of a fight, no matter that it was three against one.

" _Do not think just go, run, surprise is on your side. Go!"_

Without warning Channing suddenly bolted toward the nearest house. The three bullies were taken completely by surprise.

"Hey." Yelled Howard.

The three boys started to chase Channing, but Channing was faster then all three and soon had raced up the stairs two at a time, slid across the small porch and started banging on the door. Only then did he turn to see if the bullies had followed him.

The boys stood frozen, halfway between the sidewalk and the front porch, but not for long. All three boys suddenly turned around and sprinted as fast as they could across the street and disappeared between two houses.

" _Well that takes care of that, at least for the moment."_

"What...Voice...where have you been, I have tried to talk to you." Channing nearly shouted.

" _I told you I could help, so I helped."_

"Why wouldn't you answer me when I called you before? On the first day...we meet...I heard you." Channing stammered.

" _It would probably be best if you did not talk out loud in public, people are watching you. All you have to do is think the thought and I will hear it."_

"I don't care if people see me, why wouldn't you answer me when I called you?"

" _I am not a genie, you cannot just rub a magic lamp and make me appear to do your bidding. I choose to help you. But I can only help if you listen to me. I helped you escape another pounding by those bullies. I did not magically make them disappear, I simply suggested to you a solution, and you acted upon that suggestion and it worked."_

Channing thought for a moment, "So exactly what can you do? I mean other than talk to me in my head."

" _I can tell you that that group of students across the street have stopped and are watching you talk to yourself."_

Channing looked across the street and a group of five students where standing on the curb watching him.

" _Wave to the door and say, Thank you, loud enough for them to hear you across the street. Then, start walking to school. They will think you were talking to someone in the house that they could not see."_

Channing backed to the edge of the porch, thankful now, that no one had come to the door after he had knocked. He held his hand up in a wave and said "Thanks," probably a little louder than necessary.

" _Look, we have to talk, but not here not now. When you go home today, grab a snack and go out to your clubhouse, we can talk out there, where your dad will not here us."_

"My dad," Channing mumbled under his breath, "will be passed out anyway. We can just talk in the house."

" _Your dad is out of beer, and his unemployment check does not come until tomorrow. He will not be in the best of moods. We should go to the club house."_

Channing ran down the steps and across the lawn to the sidewalk. The kids that had stopped on the other side of the street were now moving toward school a little ahead of where he was.

"Can you help me with my Ohio History test today?" Channing asked.

" _I am not a cheat, besides you read the chapter and studied, you will not have any problems."_

Twice during the test later that day Channing had been stuck on a question, only to have the answer pop into his head with a distinctly Voice sound.

## Chapter Four

The meeting did not go as Channing had expected. He had expected to find out what powers the voice in his head had. He had day dreamed of the Voice going into other peoples heads and reading their thoughts, especially teachers, and maybe one or two girls, too see if they liked him.

Voice was adamant about his powers, he had none. He could suggest, he could inform but he was here only as an observer, he was most obscure about where he was from and how he existed in Channing's head but he insisted he was not all knowing, the things he knew were what he had observed Channing learning.

After an hour Channing concluded his life was not going to be magically improved by Voice.

"So basically, the only thing you are good for is to talk in my head until I go crazy and they toss me in a rubber room and throw away the key?"

"I have no life anymore. Mom works 24 hours a day and dad is drunk all the time. I have no friends that come over to play. I have to fix my own dinner, my own breakfast, and half the time mom forgets to leave me lunch money so I have to fix a sandwich and carry it to school like the poor kids."

Channing was in tears. "How could mom and dad let this happen? I was happy in our first house. Then dad lost his job and we had to move, then we moved two more times. Now we live in run down house in a poor neighborhood where my bike gets stolen."

" _Your bike was not stolen."_

Channing sobbed as he realized Voice was right. _"You heard the fight your mom and dad had that night. It was the first time you ever heard them fight. Remember?"_

Channing slowly stopped crying as he remembered the day he had told his dad his bike was gone. His dad told him it had been stolen, but later that night his mom and dad had woken him up fighting. His mom had yelled at his dad for taking the bike to the pawn shop to get money for beer. His dad had argued back that he needed gas for his car to look for work.

Channing sat down on the floor of his clubhouse with his back against a wall. He crossed his arms on his knees and laid his head down on his arms.

"What does it matter?" Channing muttered. "Who cares?"

Channing started to cry again. He had cried for some time when, _"I can help you get a bike."_

Channing sat straight up. "You can help me get my bike back? How? I thought all you could do was drive me crazy?"

" _I did not say you would get your bike back, I said I would help you get a bike. At this point, any bike would do. Wouldn't it?"_

Channing thought for a moment. "Yes, any bike. How?"

" _Well it is obvious that we cannot depend on your mom or dad for financial help of any kind. So you will have to get a job and earn the money yourself."_

"Get a job! Are you kidding? I am only 14 years old."

" _Not like a 9 to 5 job, but a kids job, like delivering newspapers, or shoveling snow, mowing lawns."_

"Just in case you hadn't noticed, it is not cold enough to snow, and I do not have a mower. Also I do not know anything about what papers might be in this area. I suppose I could check in the library tomorrow at school."

" _We will keep our eyes open, something will pop up."_

## Chapter Five

"Do you see them?" Channing asked.

" _No."_ The voice answered.

Channing crossed the street one block from his house. "Should we go on or turn and go up the alley?"

" _Do not use the alley! If they catch you there, there is no telling what they would do to you. Stick to the streets."_

When Channing was a half a block from the school, two boys came running out from between two houses.

"Hey kid." The short one yelled.

Channing heart flipped when he first saw them, fearing the worst. But now he realized these two boys were not the bullies.

"Hey kid." The short one said again. "You live around here."

Channing kept walking as the two boys ran up beside him and started to walk with him. "I live just a few blocks back."

"Man, we ride the bus. Names Fit, this is Spider. The bus got here early today. Me and Spider here thought we'd check out junkin in this neighborhood. Man its good to. Someone could make a killin."

"Fit?" Said Channing. "Spider?"

"Well," Fit said. "The teachers call me Conner, and he is Michael. But everybody calls me Fit, as in 'fit to be tide'. And Spider, well, he likes spiders. What's your name?"

Fit, short with medium length brown hair, was wearing a red golf style shirt, there were stains on the front of the shirt and the three buttons normally on the shirt were missing. His blue jeans looked like they needed washed and were several sizes too big. A belt kept them from falling down and several cuffs at the bottom help keep them from dragging.

Spider, tall and lanky with dirty light brown hair cut shorter than Fit's, wore a t-shirt, black with a faded logo over the left breast pocket. His blue jeans looked just as bad as Fit's only they were too short, hitting him about mid ankle.

Channing had seen both boys in school; they sort of stuck to themselves at lunch and between classes.

"Channing is my name." Said Channing.

"Do you know if anyone junks these alleys around here?"

"I am sure I don't know."

"Too far from our house to junk in these alleys. We live clear on the other side of town, have to take the bus here. We work in the evening, after school, and take it to the junk dealers on the weekend. We make good money. Gona save up and buy a car when I turn 16 next year. Spider here wants a motorcycle."

"What do you junk?" Asked Channing.

"Metal, mostly, you can junk other things like paper, cardboard, plastic, but the money is in the metal."

Spider and Fit both laughed like that was an inside joke.

"Aluminum cans is the money maker," Spider finally spoke up, "lots a people unemployed, means lots a people drinking, means lots a aluminum beer cans. But make sure you're cans are empty by smashing them before ya bag em. Them dealers like ta squawk that the cans are full of liquid and cheatin the weight up. Always smash your cans."

"Copper if you can find any is worth its weight in gold." Fit added. "Any metal that has weight can be sold. We found an engine block one time. Took everthin' we had to get it on a wagon. Wagon damn near collapsed under the weight, but we got it there. Good money."

"How do you know what is aluminum and what is regular metal?" asked Channing.

"You got ta carry a magnet with you." Spider pulled a small refrigerator magnet out of his pocket. "Sticks to steel, wont stick to aluminum or copper or tin."

"If you're getting into the trade, you need a reacher." Said Fit.

"A reacher?" asked Channing.

"You know," Said Fit, "like old people use to reach things from their wheel chairs. Long handle and you squeeze the grip and it grabs things. For reaching in trash cans for cans and things."

"Never pass up any metal, even if you don't know what it is, cause money is in the metal." He repeated. And again both boys laughed.

The three boys had reached the school and were walking across the schoolyard towards the doors.

"Don't you worry about running into..." Channing hesitated. "Bad people in the alleys."

"Ah," said Spider, "ya run into the occasional bum, but he's just lookin to score enough cans to get him his next bottle of wine. Mostly you run into people doin the same thing your doin. You just wave and go on."

"But keep your stash locked up." Said Fit. " We used to keep our stuff in Spiders back yard. Had a six foot fence all around, but someone got in there when we was in school and took a weeks worth of junkin right out from under our noses. Now we lock it in Spiders garage."

Just as they reached the door it swung open and a girl walked out. "Hi Channing."

It was Jessica Tanner; one of the girls Channing hoped liked him.

"Hi Jessica." Channing said.

"You're looking nice today." Jessica said.

"Oh brother." Said Fit. "We'll see ya later kid." Spider and Fit walked through the door still being held open by Jessica.

"Have you started your report yet?" Jessica asked.

"I've been working on it, doing outlines and stuff." Channing lied.

"Mine has been done for a week." Jessica bragged.

Channing cringed; he did not want Jessica thinking he was a dummy.

"Well, I have been affected in so many ways, how....."

"I know." Jessica interrupted, "I can't go to the mall every weekend now because mom and dad say that gas is too expensive. And they still give me the same amount of money to spend even though the price of clothes has gone up."

"It's a mess." Channing said.

There was a brief silence, "Have you asked anyone to go to the fall dance next month?" Jessica asked trying to sound matter of fact.

"Ah...no...ah not yet." Channing replied.

"Well too bad I hear it is going to be a blast." Jessica turned and walked through the door she was still holding open. "Well I guess I'll see you around."

Channing's mind seemed to go blank as he watched Jessica walk away.

"Wait!" Channing shouted. All of the students in the area stopped, and stared at Channing.

Flushing red with embarrassment, Channing ran to catch up with Jessica who had kept on walking.

"Jessica," he said softly when he was walking beside her.

"Yes Channing." She said still walking and not looking at Channing.

"Jessica," now Channing hesitated. What if she said no? How embarrassing that would be. Channing heard Voice, _"Go for it!"_ "Jessica," he said again, and then continued before he could chicken out, "would you go to the Fall Dance with me?"

Jessica stopped walking and turned to Channing. He wanted to take back what he had just asked; he wanted to find a hole to crawl into. How could he think that a pretty girl like Jessica would want to go to the dance with him?

"I would love to Channing, that would be swell."

Jessica turned and continued down the hall toward her class.

Channing stood in the middle of the hallway dumbfounded. He was oblivious to the hundreds of students making there way to their first class of the day. She said yes. This is the best day of my life. I am going to the dance with Jessica Tanner. Wow!

Suddenly the bell rang and Channing realizes he was standing in the middle of an empty hallway. Running down the hall to his first class he just made it to his seat when the teacher walked in, late also.

## Chapter Six

"But Dad," Channing pleaded, "It's only twenty dollars."

"I do not have that kind of money right now, maybe in a couple of months when I get a job, then you can go to the dance." His dad replied not looking at Channing but starring at a baseball game on the television.

"But the dance isn't for a couple of weeks. How about if I earn it? I could do some chores and maybe you could pay me?" Channing said.

His dad stared at the television, "I am sorry Channing we just do not have the money."

Channing had run home from school to ask his dad for the money to take Jessica to the Fall Dance. He had been so excited. He thought his dad would be excited also about Channing having a date. But his dad seemed unimpressed and just starred at the baseball game on the television while he talked.

Channing walked to the kitchen and fixed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, grabbed the potato chip bag and headed for his club house. He did not see the tears rolling down his father's cheeks.

"I'll stay up and ask mom, she'll give me the money." Channing thought.

" _I doubt it Channing. Your mom and dad are not doing to good right now. They just don't have the money."_

"You'll see. Mom will give me the money, no questions asked."

"I am sorry Channing but one of my jobs fell through today. This was my last day. Now I only have one job and I have to have gas money to look for another one." His mom said.

Channing had stayed awake until he heard her car pull into the driveway and then ran down and intercepted her in the kitchen.

At first she was mad that he was up this late. But she could not stay mad when she heard his desperate pleas.

"Run on to bed, you'll be falling asleep in class if you don't get some rest." His mom kissed Channing on the cheek and turned his shoulders to the steps.

Later in bed Channing was crying. "How can I tell Jessica that I can't take her to the dance?" He sobbed.

"I will be the laughingstock of eighth grade at Monroe middle school."

" _I know how you can get the money for the dance."_

Channing sat up in bed, and wiped his face with his arm, "How?" He asked.

" _You could do what Fit and Spider do, you could go junkin in the alleys around here."_

Channing started thinking.

" _They said the alleys around here were good ones, you could probably make enough money out of the junk in your clubhouse to go to the dance."_

"There is a lot of junk in the club house. Old lawn chairs, I think they are aluminum, and several old wheels, and lots of other junk. You are right Voice that is what we'll do. Tomorrow, right after school we are going junkin!" Channing was quite pleased for at least now he had a plan.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and the door opened.

Channing slammed his head back into his pillow.

His mom head came around the side of the door. "Channing are you all right?"

"Sure mom, why?"

"I heard you talking, who were you talking to?" His mom asked as she looked around the room.

"No one, just myself, sorry." Channing said rather sheepishly.

"Well, alright, don't make a habit of talking to yourself out loud, people will think you are strange. OK honey."

"Sure mom, I'll keep it to myself from now on." Said Channing.

"I don't have work in the morning so maybe I'll see you off to school.'

"That would be great mom."

"Now go to sleep, and no more talking to yourself out loud."

"OK mom, night." Channing said as he rolled over on his side.

## Chapter Seven

Channing talked to Jessica Tanner three times during the day, including having lunch with her. He was on cloud nine, he did not think life could get any better. Channing ran all the way home from school the next day. He was so excited about starting his new career as a junk man he wasn't even disappointed that his mom did not get up to see him off to school. It is probably just as well, as he might have given away his plan to go junking. He did not think his mom would approve of him climbing in and out of trash bins.

Channing ran in the house and tossed his book bag on the floor by the front door. He ran through the living room where his dad was watching TV.

"Hi dad." Channing said as he ran for the kitchen.

"Hey son, how was school?" His dad responded but kept his eyes on the TV.

"It was good. I have to write a 500 word report on how the economy has affected my life, due next month." Channing said as he reached the kitchen. He quickly fixed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Grabbing a juice drink out of the refrigerator, he also grabbed a magnet on the face of the door, then he bolted for the back door. "Going to the club house dad."

Channing did not hear a response.

After reaching the club house, Channing ate his sandwich as he tried the magnet on some the objects in the shed.

He knew it would not stick to the aluminum chair he used, but he placed the refrigerator magnet next to the frame of the chair anyway. Next he started pulling the pile of junk at the back of the shed forward, separating the metal from other objects.

Two more folding aluminum lawn chairs appeared. They were twisted and the nylon straps were broken and just hanging loose.

"Do I have to remove the straps before I can turn in the aluminum?" Channing thought.

There are two wheels, but they still have tires on them. There were several electric motors, Channing was sure they had copper in them, but do I have to remove it or what.

"Voice, any clue as to how to start here?" Channing asked.

" _I am afraid I know very little about this, but I think a better place to start would be aluminum cans. You can't go wrong there."_

"Your right." Channing said. "And I can start right in our own dumpster, my dad probably has a million dollars worth of cans in there by now.

Channing ran out of the shed, turning right he followed the sidewalk to the gate on the chain link fence. Leaning over the fence, Channing looked up and down the alley.

"Well, it doesn't look as bad as I thought." Channing said.

He opened the gate and stepped into the alley. The dumpsters in the alley were strategically place between properties on the one side of the alley. Two or three houses would then use one dumpster for their garbage. The trucks that picked up the garbage would drive down the alley, get close to a dumpster, mechanical arms would reach out and grab the dumpster and lift it up to dump it in the truck.

Channing approached the dumpster closest to his house. The dumpster was green, round, about five feet high and at least that big in diameter. It had a single round lid that would swing open when it was being dumped but would close as it was being set back down.

Channing pushed the lid open by grabbing the edge and raising it over his head. The smell was terrible, and the flies around it were numerous. When Channing peered in he got a shock. The dumpster was empty.

"What?" Channing said out loud.

" _Apparently, Friday is pickup day for the garbage."_

"Now what do I do?" Channing said as he lowered the lid. "I don't know if I have to remove the webbing on the lawn chairs, I don't know if I have to separate the wheels and the tires, and I don't even where to take this metal if I do ever find any."

Channing had begun to walk back to his yard. His hands were in his pockets and his head was down. He thought he was beaten even before he started.

" _Look, we just need to find out some things. If Fit and Spider can make money doing this, than so can you. As a matter of fact why not ask them how to junk. I mean, you can go to school a little early Monday, find them coming off the bus and you should have at least fifteen minutes to pump them for information."_

Channing looked up, "That's right, they said they can't work these alleys anyway, maybe they would tell me their secrets."

## Chapter Eight

Early Monday morning Channing was waiting at the bus stop outside of his school watching the buses pull up and the kids get off. Channing spotted Fit and Spider getting off the third bus that pulled up.

Channing walked up to Fit and Spider as they approached the building.

"Hi guys." Channing said.

Fit and Spider stopped walking and just starred at Channing.

"How ya doing." Channing tried again.

"What cha' want?" Fit asked.

Right to the point Channing thought. "Well I guess I came to ask you some questions about saving junk, I mean junkin..."

"What cha want to know?" Spider asked.

"Well," Channing began, "I found these old lawn chairs, they are probably aluminum, but they have the straps hanging from them. Do I have to remove the straps before I turn them in for money?"

"Just take your knife and cut those straps off, "Fit said, "don't matter if it's neat, just remove most of it. Then smash them down flat fold them and smash em some more, takes up less room in the wagon. What else ya got?"

"I found two tires and wheels for a car."

"Is the tread any good on the tires?" Spider asked.

"I guess it looks ok." Channing said.

"Don't take em to the junk man, take em to a used tire store, they'll usually buy em." Fit said.

"I also found a couple of old electric motors." Channing said.

"That's good money." Said Fit smiling for the first time.

"So I have to cut the straps off the chairs and then just take them down to the junk man?" Channing was still trying to understand.

"Look," Said Fit, "try to break everything down to its basic components. The aluminum chairs have to have the straps removed and then just pound on the rest of the chair to smash it into a small pile. If it has plastic arms like some do, just knock them off with a hammer."

"You want to smash everything you can into small pieces so you can get more in your wagon to haul to the junk man." Fit continued. "Sheet metal, metal cans, aluminum cans, smash everything. The motors leave whole, and the wheels and tire too. You'll catch on kid, your one of the smart ones in the class, me and Spider will be lucky to graduate. Best thing you can do is just start, and learn as ya go."

Fit and Spider walked off towards the door, the conversation over, having said everything that they thought needed said.

Channing turned around and nearly ran over Nicole Harrison. "Hi Channing." Nicole said.

"Hi." Channing said.

"I saw you walking to school the day that Howard Hanes tried to get your lunch money."

Channing's mind went blank.

"That was smart running up to that house and banging on the door."

"The door?" Channing stammered.

"Who were you talking to on the porch?" Nicole continued, "No one has lived that house for months. One of the foreclosed houses the banks are taking."

Channing hesitated not knowing exactly what to say. "Ah...well...I was trying to scare off those guys by pretending to talk to someone."

"Well, I would be careful if I were you, you really talked long after those guys ran off. It looked like you were arguing with yourself."

"I hear you asked Jessica Tanner to the fall dance."

Nicole was another girl that Channing liked. Now he felt bad that he had asked Jessica to the dance.

"Ah, well yes, I asked her." Channing stammered.

"You know, she only came on to you to make her boyfriend jealous." Nicole said.

"Boyfriend? How can she have a boyfriend if she is going to the dance with me?" Channing asked.

"Her boyfriend is in the ninth grade, I hear he has been grounded for beating up some kid. But Jessica wouldn't dare miss the fall dance. She's such a ...." Nicole's words faded off to nothing.

Channing started thinking, how could she go to the dance with me if she already has a boyfriend, even if he is grounded. You can't just mess around on a boyfriend...can you?

"Nicole?" Channing said.

"Look I have got to go." Nicole said and she hurried off towards the school, "Be careful Channing, her boyfriend is big and mean." Nicole disappeared into a group of students leaving Channing wondering what he had gotten himself into.

## Chapter Nine

Channing realized two things quickly about junking, you have to check the dumpster's everyday, so the good stuff doesn't get buried under stuff you don't want to dig through, and you finish the day of dumpster diving smelling like one of the dumpsters.

After his third day of collecting cans from dumpster by climbing in the dumpster, he realized he had a problem.

Channing had come home just before dark on a Wednesday, he went to the kitchen to get something to eat and his dad was at the kitchen table filling out some forms. He was not in a good mood.

"Hi dad." Channing said as he walked in the back door.

"Hey." His father said still concentrating on the paperwork in front of him.

Channing had gone to the refrigerator to get the jelly, as he turned around he notice his father look up. His nose was wrinkled up like he smelled something bad and he was looking around trying to find the source of the offending odor.

After realizing it was Channing, his dad got mad. "Channing what have you gotten into, you stink!"

Channing stopped fixing his sandwich and turned to face his father. "Sorry dad, I was...." Channing had to think fast or the game would be up. "I was....playing down the street with some kids and I got tackled into some garbage."

Channing's dad looked at him with disgust. "Are those school clothes?"

Channing's heart stopped. He knew he was not allowed to play in school clothes, and yet he had been junking in school clothes Monday, Tuesday and today. "Yes sir." Channing finally stammered.

"I should bust your ass, wait till your mother finds out you've been playing football in school clothes. She will have a tizzy."

Channing's dad shook his head. "Get upstairs and get out of those stinking clothes before you have the whole house smelling like them. Take a shower and bring those clothes down and throw them in the damn washer."

Channing's dad stood up from the table went to the refrigerator gabbed a beer and headed for the living room. "I should bust his ass." He mumbled as he left the kitchen.

Channing abandoned his sandwich and raced upstairs to the bathroom. He stripped and started taking a shower tears rolling down his cheeks. All his dad could do lately was drink and yell at him. Alright so he should not have gone junking in school clothes, but his dad used to talk to him about things that he was doing wrong, not yell at him and threaten to beat his ass.

He finished his shower and dried off. Wrapping the towel around his waist he gathered up his dirty clothes and walked down the stairs carefully so as not to disturb his dad who was now in the living room drinking and watching television.

Going through the kitchen Channing headed for the hallway leading to the basement. On the right in the hallway was the door to the basement and on the left was a doorway to a small laundry room.

Channing opened the washer and stuffed his clothes in. Closing the lid to the washer, he returned to the kitchen. Spying his half made sandwich Channing didn't know whether he should take a chance or not, but he was hungry, he had been out junking since he had gotten home from school.

He decided to take a chance opening the refrigerator door slowly, Channing got the jelly out. He set it on the counter next to the bread he had gotten out earlier. He reached up to the cupboard and opened it slowly, some of the upper cupboards hinges squeaked but he could not remember which ones did and which one didn't. It didn't make any noise and he reached up and got the peanut butter. He left the door open as he didn't want to have to open and close them twice.

Pulling out two more slices of bread he laid them next to the two slices he had pulled out earlier. He was really hungry and could easily eat two sandwiches.

Quickly making his sandwiches he laid the knife in the sink and put the peanut butter and jelly away. Closing the bread he pushed it to the back of the counter.

They had juice pouches but there was only a couple left, and Channing knew when they were gone he may not see any for a long time, he figured he could just drink water from his glass in the bathroom upstairs.

As he moved towards the stairs Channing looked into the living room where his dad was watching television. Channing saw his dad's chin was on his chest, he had fallen asleep sitting up.

Channing carefully moved up the steps not wanting to make any sound that would wake his dad up. Moving quickly down the hallway Channing entered his room and go a rude surprise. It stunk in there. It did not smell as bad as the clothes he had just taken to the washer, but is still smelled of stale beer and garbage. Then he remembered Mondays and Tuesdays clothes are in my closet in a clothes basket.

Channing set the sandwiches down on his dresser and went to his closet. The smell was even worse in the closet. Now what, what happens when his dad finds these school clothes stinking also?

" _Do some laundry!"_

"What?" Channing asked.

" _I said do some laundry. You have seen your mom do laundry a thousand times. It can not be that hard."_

Channing thought for a second. "How long does it take to wash and dry clothes?"

" _I don't know."_

"We'll have to take a chance." Channing grabbed the basket of stinking clothes from his closet and headed back downstairs. He slowly slipped down the stairs through the kitchen and into the laundry room.

Channing looked at the washer. Lots of dials and buttons.

" _Why don't you leave all the controls right where they are? Your mom is the only one who does laundry, so she set up the controls, I say, let it ride."_

"Good idea." said Channing.

Channing threw the clothes from the basket into the washer. He picked up the laundry detergent. Unscrewing the top he tried to decide how much to put in, finally deciding not to put in too little or too much, he filled the cap half full of laundry detergent and poured it into the washer. Closing the door quietly, he turned the main knob until it was pointed at regular and pushed it in. He was rewarded with the sound of water filling up the washer.

"How long does it take to wash a load of clothes?" Channing asked.

" _I don't know, but at least an hour. Why don't you go upstairs and eat your sandwiches and you should also start on the report due next month."_

Channing left the laundry carefully closing the door so the sound of the washer could not be heard in the living room. He moved through the kitchen and was just about to climb the stairs when his heart stopped. His dad was not on the couch.

Then Channing noticed his dad's hand sticking out over the arm of the couch. He had lain down, and was still passed out on the couch.

After eating his sandwiches Channing turned on his computer and started his book report. Sixty minutes later Channing went to check on the laundry. He moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer and set the timer for thirty minutes. Channing returned to his room and continued working on his report and then watched some television.

Returning to the laundry room he found the clothes were not dry, so he reset the timer for another thirty minutes and went back to his room to watch more television.

After another half hour, Channing went to the laundry room and pulled all of the clothes from the dryer and took them to his room. He hung up the shirts and pants like had seen his mom do, but the underwear and socks he just threw them in the top drawer of his dresser.

"Do you think Dad will remember I had stinky clothes on and was supposed to put them in the washer?"

" _Maybe, but you could always tell your mother that you felt bad about leaving that for her so you did the laundry yourself, she would appreciate that."_

Channing turned off the computer and television, then turned the lights out in the room. Climbing into bed he said, "You're a pretty smart guy for being just a voice in my head."

" _I am not JUST a voice in your head; anyhow, I can almost guarantee you that I am no smarter than you are. And if you look in a mirror you would see me!"_

Channing was quickly falling asleep when he saw lights dance across his ceiling. "Moms home." He mumbled as he fell into a deep sleep.

## Chapter Ten

The next day Channing moved several sets of clothes and an old pair of shoes out to the clubhouse. Now when he got home from school he would go to the clubhouse change into, what he began to think of as his 'junkin clothes'. After several hours of dumpster diving, he still had not found what Fit and Spider had called a reacher. He had to go into the dumpsters after the cans, he would return to the clubhouse and undress, he would then use a wet wipe to get most of the nasty grime and smell off of him. He would put on his school clothes and return to the house. At the end of the week Channing planned to take the junkin clothes into the house and wash them himself. He did not want them to get too dirty, he still needed play clothes.

## Chapter Eleven

Thursday turned into Channing's most productive day. People were getting the trash out of their house before pickup on Friday. Friday became wash day and catch up with homework day. He was having trouble with the 500 word report on the effects of the economic downturn was having on him. Every time he started a paper it turned into a whining report on how miserable he was.

After three weeks of steady work, Channing had cleaned everything out of the shed but his one good lawn chair, and metal he was going to scrap. Eighteen bags of crushed cans and other aluminum were testament to his desire to gather the money to go to the fall dance, and maybe, buy a bike.

Channing had located the closest scrap dealer on the internet. It was more than a mile away, but he thought he would make three trips on Saturday carrying and dragging five bags a trip.

On Friday Channing came home from school to find his father gone. He got something to eat and went to his room to work on his report. No junkin today, it was trash pickup day.

Several hours later he heard his dad's car pull up in the driveway. Channing watched out his window as his father got out of the car with a grocery sack. "Probably full of beer." He thought.

He listened through his open bedroom door to keys rattling in the deadbolt lock of the kitchen door. He heard his father enter the house and close and lock the back door. There was a moment of silence then the sound of something heavy dropping on the counter or the table. Channing heard the refrigerator door open and close, then more silence. The next noise was the sound of the television. His dad had gone into the living room and turned on the television. Moving through several channels, the sound from the television settles down to the play by play of a college basketball game.

Channing walked to his door and listened to the game playing on the television. He didn't even check on me. I could be dead in a ditch, dead, its almost dark outside, and he doesn't care about me.

The tears began flowing down Channing's cheeks. "Dad." He sobbed. "Why don't you love me anymore?" He closed his door quietly; he didn't want a confrontation with his dad. Channing then threw himself on his bed and began to cry into his pillow. "Maybe it would be better if I wasn't around." Channing drifted off to sleep thinking about how he could survive if he ran away from home.

Channing woke up and his room was almost dark, the only light was the subdued light of his fish tank screen savor on his computer. He was confused at first because he doesn't remember going to bed. He could no longer hear the muted sounds of the television. He threw his covers off and found out his still had his clothes on, but his shoes had been removed. Channing walked to his door. Opening his door he went to the head of the stairway and looked down.

He could see the lights in the living room were off, but the television was still on. The sound had either been muted or turned way down. His dad was probably passed out on the couch again. Channing had seen him there many times in the morning as he was getting ready for school.

Channing moved down the hall to the bathroom. Coming out of the bathroom he looked at the door to his mom and dads room. It was closed. Mom had removed his shoes and tucked him in. Channing's eyes became teary again. He remembered his thoughts as he cried himself to sleep last night he just couldn't leave his mom. To his dad he didn't seem to exist anymore except as something to yell at, but he couldn't leave his mom.

## Chapter Twelve

Channing awoke on Saturday morning anxious to get started. This would be his first payday for three weeks of work.

After a quick breakfast of cereal, Channing raced out to his clubhouse to begin taking the eighteen bags of cans to the recycling yard.

Channing threw open the doors to his clubhouse and got the shock of his young life.

The two tires he had found were still there. The three electric motors were still against the back wall with a pile of other metal he had collected. Even his favorite lawn chair was still there, just inside the door on the right hand side. But the eighteen bags of cans he had carefully collected and crushed over the last three weeks were gone.

Channing backed away from the door still not believing it happened. Fit and Spider said they kept their junk locked in Spider's garage. Channing did not have a lock, just a lock clasp that kept the door closed.

Channing ran to his house crying. "Dad, Dad," Channing yelled as he exploded through the back door. Channing's dad was just leaving the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hands. "Dad someone got in my club house and stole my cans I was saving."

Channing's dad turned towards him, "Cans, the cans in the plastic bags?"

"Yeah," Channing said still crying. "I have been going out after school and collecting them in the alley. I was going to take them to the recycling place today and sell them for the money to go to the fall dance, but they are all gone. Some one stole them."

"Sorry Channing." His dad said. "I happened to find them yesterday while you were at school. I turned them in for gas money for my car. I did not know you had been collecting them. I thought they had been left hear by the previous tenant."

Channing was stunned. "I....I was trying to earn the money for the fall dance." He sobbed. "I asked Jessica Tanner to go, she said yes, but....but I need twenty dollars to buy the tickets."

"Well the money is already spent. I put gas in the car to go to an interview yesterday. Sorry Channing. I'll try to help you before the dance I promise."

Channing's sobbing continued. He could not believe his own father had taken the cans he had worked so hard to gather and spent the money.

"Look," his dad said, "this job I just interviewed for looks real promising. If it works out I'll make it up to you. We'll go do something..."

"No!" Channing nearly shouted. "All you can do anymore is get drunk, take my cans for more beer, and yell at me."

Channing spun around and raced out the back door running all the way to his clubhouse.

"Channing...Channing." His father shouted. It was no good, he watched as Channing ran across the yard to his clubhouse.

Channing's father turned and headed for the living room. Tears were forming in his eyes. He realized he had not been the best father lately. He sat down on the couch and began to cry. He thought about going out to Channing and talking to him, but he did not think that would help right now. "I just pray this job comes through." He said out loud.

## Chapter Thirteen

Channing sat in his lawn chair and cried. For more than an hour he was lost in his self pity. Finally the tears ebbed and Channing looked around the clubhouse. The electric motors, something drew his attention to the electric motors. Spider had said they were "good money", or maybe it was Fit that said it.

Channing walked over and lifted the biggest motor. It was very heavy, it was all he could do to lift it off the floor and carry it to the door. He sat back down on his lawn chair and thought about it. He needed a wagon of some kind. But he did not have one.

Channing took stock of his clubhouse. There were the two wheels, with tires, three electric motors, three coils of rope, two were the size of clothesline and one was bigger. A pile of metal scraps that Channing was not certain what they were including an old tricycle, with the pedals missing, a box of trash bags, half empty. He also found several wrenches a pair of pliers, a hammer with a broken handle, two knives, one was a kitchen knife the other a folding knife, and an old manual air pump.

He had also found a lot of old newspapers, clothes, old broken plastic toys, but he threw all of these away.

Channing pulled the tricycle from the pile of scrap metal. The pedals were missing, but he thought, maybe he could use the back wheels to make some sort of wagon or cart.

Then Channing remembered what his dad had always said about designing anything, KISS, or Keep It Simple Silly. And Channing suddenly realized the tricycle was already a cart of sorts.

He could strap a motor to the seat and two more to the flat step plate above the back axle. After tying a rope to the handlebars out near the end, he should be able to pull the tricycle as well as steer it.

Channing lifted the biggest motor and set it on the step plate to the left of the main tubular frame. He sat the second biggest motor on the step plate to the right of the main tubular frame. Channing stood up and grabbed the handlebars from the front of the bike and pulled the tricycle towards him. It rolled easily. He then backed around the clubhouse turning the handlebars to the right and left. Again, the tricycle moved easily.

Channing set the smallest motor on the seat, but it would not sit flat on the motor mount. Channing rolled the motor onto its side and it laid nicely into the curves of the plastic bicycle seat.

He grabbed one of the ropes that looked like clothesline rope from the wall and lashed the motor to the seat.

Next he took the longest rope and tied the two motors on the back to the step plate and the center main round frame.

The last rope, which was about seven feet long, he put the ends together, wrapped it around one of the rubber handlebar grips twice and then tied it in a knot. The other end he wrapped around the other handlebar grip and tied it off also.

Now he could pull on the rope and the tricycle would follow him like a little dog.

He pulled on the rope and maneuvered around the clubhouse. The tricycle worked perfectly.

"My cans may be gone," Channing said, "but I will get the money to go to the dance!"

Channing thought about going into the house and telling his dad he was going to the recycling place, but then decided if his dad cared, he would have come out and talked to him about the cans.

He looked out the window of the clubhouse; he tried to see if he could see anyone in the house watching the clubhouse.

Channing moved to the door and pulled the tricycle to the edge of the floor by the handlebars. Lifting the front wheel to the ground he pulled the tricycle farther and the back wheels dropped off with a thud.

He pulled the tricycle down the uneven sidewalk to the back gate. Opening the gate he pulled the tricycle into the now familiar alley.

It seemed silly pulling a tricycle with three electric motors tied to it down the alley. Channing knew that once he reached the streets leading to the recycling store, people would be starring, but he did not care. His only concern was getting the money for the fall dance.

More than an hour later Channing reached Greentree Recycling. The tricycle almost didn't make it. One back tire had gotten a severe wobble from a bent hub, and the other back tire had lost a chunk of rubber causing a rhythmic thump-thump-thump as Channing pulled the tricycle along.

Taking it as a sign the tricycle was not a good wagon, Channing sold the motors and the tricycle for seventeen dollars. He did not know if that was a good price or not for three motors, but he did know that he almost had enough to go to the dance, and with a little more effort, he could save enough to take Jessica out for something to eat after the dance. That is if he can talk his mom or dad into driving them.

Channing had counted the money three times before he reached the alley behind his house. Now, as he neared his house he was counting the money for a fourth time when his dreaming about the dance was interrupted,

"You went to Greentrees, didn't ja boy? I hope that old thief Franklin gave ya a fair price for them three motors, shoulda given ya bout, I spose...thirtyfives, bout right."

The voice was deep, deeper than Channing had ever heard. It had a gravely sound, like the man speaking should clear his throat.

Channing nearly dropped the money when the man began to speak.

The man was leaning against a gate at the side of a garage. Near the gate sat one of the many alley dumpsters Channing had frequented these last few weeks.

He was a very large man, not fat, but large, standing at least six foot six, with a massive arms and he looked very wide, not fat, there was a little belly fat, but he was just plain huge.

A hose ran under the mans nose, up above his ears, snaked behind one arm and down to a metal cylinder in a sling the man had slung under one arm. His face was dark tanned and almost looked like leather, like he hadn't cleaned it in years. His nose was kind of flat and wide; it was not straight but had a good turn to the right. He had scars clearly visible around both eyes, around his mouth, and a particularly nasty one running down the right side of his face from his cheekbone to his ear. What caught Channing's attention the most were the man's eyes. They were gray, deep set, and the area around each eye was wrinkled and scared, but the eyes themselves were crystal clear gray, and somehow seemed to be as deep as a well. As Channing looked at the man, his eyes seemed to penetrate right down to Channing's inner self. Channing had no secrets from eyes like that. The eyes seemed to scare Channing more than the whole rest of the man.

"Well boy," the man said, "bout thirty-five?"

Channing had backed halfway across the alley when the man began to speak. "Seventeen Sir." Channing said.

"Sir...Sir....," the man began to laugh. The laughing turned into coughing and the coughing continued for some time. When it had finally subsided, the man took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his mouth and his nose with it, rolled it up and stuffed it back in his pocket.

"Damn COPD, that's what the damn doctors call it, I'll give ya some free advice kid, never start smoking. Better you should drink, sleep around, cuss like a sailor, even do some gambling, just don't smoke." The man bowed his head like he was praying, or just in deep though, "seventeen did ya say boy?"

"Yes sir...er Yes."

"That old thief. That good for nothing cock...er. Well I'll tell you what." The man seemed to make a decision. "Do ya drive boy?"

"What?" Stammered Channing.

"Do ya drive, like a car or a pickup?"

"I don't have my license yet." Said Channing.

"But ya know the basics, put it in drive, turn left, turn right, stop?

"Yes, my grandpa used to let me drive his car around a parking lot."

"Good nuff." The man walked to the garage door, taking some keys from his pocket he removed a padlock securing the big garage door. Walking to the middle of the door the man grabbed the handle a raised up on it. The door did not roll up like the one at Channing's old house but the bottom raised outward as the top went back into the garage, the whole thing just pivoted open.

Backed into the garage was a pickup truck. There did not seem to be any rust, but there was a lot of dirt on the truck, it hadn't moved in a while.

"Get in boy." The man growled as he went to the passenger side of the truck.

" _Careful, we do not know this person."_

Channing hesitated, he had always been taught not to talk to strangers, and there seemed to be a lot to fear in this man.

Channing glanced down the alley towards his house, on the other hand, he thought, what do I have to lose? And, I get to drive a pickup truck.

Channing climbed into the drivers side of the pickup truck.

"I'd drive myself," the man said as he handed Channing the keys, "but the last time I drove I got into a coughing fit out on 70, nearly wiped six cars and a semi out before I got control of my truck."

"Go ahead, start it up, make sure you pull well out into the alley before cutting to the right hard."

Channing hesitated again, I don't even know this mans name, he thought. Channing glanced over at the man.

The man was starring hard at Channing. "Wonder'n if ya should go with a stranger? I wouldn't think much of ya if ya weren't a little apprehensive. Names Max." The man said seeming to read Channing's mind. "Max Stonerock."

He held out his hand, Channing took the hand and was surprised at how big and rough the hand was, engulfing his completely. "Channing, Channing Beck."

"Tell ya somp'in boy. Channing, I'm a goin ta take you over to Greentree's and have a little discussion with Franklin bout his propensity to use his big size and overbearing nature to despoil people of their hard earned money."

Channing was taken aback. How can a man who talks like he never went to school use words like propensity, and what does despoil mean anyway? Again Max read Channings mind, "I might sound like I just fell off the turnip truck, but I'll tell ya somp'in boy, if ya promise not to tell a soul."

Channing shook his head yes.

"Sit back for a minute and you'll know all ya need ta know bout me. I never went to school, Ma and Pa were as poor as they come, Pa broke a leg when he was just a young man and never had a chance. He could barely get around most of what I remember, mostly worked till the wee hours of the morn'in sweeping up bars around town just outside the entrance to the coal mine where he wanted to work, where the good money was, for what it was worth. They stuck me in the mine at five years old, made a quarter a day carrying water to the miners."

Max's eyes seemed to gloss over slightly. "Flu took my Ma and Pa same year, I was ten at the time, been working in a mine for five years by then, driv'n the train, loved that job. Moved in with my Ma's Aunt Moselle, lived a couple of streets from us. Old woman,...I mean old and smelled funny too. But she said if'in I was ta live in her house I was ta learn to read and write. So she set about teaching me. I still worked the mine during the day and she taught me at night. I mem'ber she has lots of books. The reading bug took hold and never let go. I still read two or three books a week."

Max twisted slightly in his seat to face Channing. "Ok, I'll give ya a quick bio so's ya knows ya ain't rid'in with just anyone."

"Bout the time I reached twenty", he continued, "I wasn't scrawny ten year old that could drive the train with out even ducking in the shaft. I's well over six foot and was spending my day wit a jackhammer, drill or pick. Could'nt stand up for twelve hours a day. Onlyest way I would straight'n my back out was to kneel down, sit down or lay down." Max started laughing hard at past events only he could see. His laughing turned into another bout of coughing.

When the coughing finally subsided, Max continued. "Well as you mi't mag'n, the bosses didn't much like workers laying around, no mat'r how bad their back hurt." He shook his head.

"I was twenty when Aunt Moselle died. I took my leave of the coal mines swearing never to return. She didn't have as much money as dem peoples say. But most a what she had went to care for her sister dat was in a home." His massive hand began to rub his chin. "I guess I looked for a job for weeks I had read almost every book in Aunt Moselle's house and remember bout everything, I had one of them idetic memories. So I figured I could do bout anyth'n."

He shook his head slowly, "No one would hire me for anythin' mor'n a floor sweeper. No education, at least not on paper, no grade school, no high school, nut'n. I was even talk'n like them boys that were well educated, bout anyth'n, but in the end there wasn't a single piece of paper that said I could do anymor'n tie my shoes. Couldn't be a firefighter, couldn't be a policeman, even drove myself to Joliet Illinois to apply as a train engineer, I always liked driv'n that electric train in the mine, I always wanted to drive me a big train, a real train."

His voice trailed off a little, then it got loud again.

"But they said I had no education, so, no go."

His voice got soft again, "I could talk just like I was born with a silver fork stuck in my ass, but they all said the same thing, if'n it ain't on paper, it didn't happen."

Channing sat silently in the drivers seat, anxious to drive, but enthralled by the story that was unfolding.

Max looked down at his hands as he continued.

"Friend told me ta come ta Columbus and go down to da slaughter house, they's always hiring, if'n ya didn't mind a little blood and gore. Paid good too."

"The very next day I walked into the slaughter house, didn't bother going to da office, just couldn't stand to hear the phrase 'no education, no job' again."

"I looked around seed what ever'one was doi'n. They takes the cow, kills it, hangs it by the neck and strips the hide off'n it. Well the blood and guts doon seem to bother me so's I walks around some more. I see's these two guys taking a whole quarter of a cow, hefting it in the air on'ta this moving overhead conveyor hook. Da hooks bout seven feet oft'n the floor. This moves so's the meat can be cut off as it passes in front of some workers."

"Takes two guys to heft that hunk of meat. So I walks up to the foreman and says I can do that job myself, you only need to pay one person and saves money."

"Well that foreman looks me right in the eye and I stairs back just as hard, not blink'n see. He says, What makes you think you alone can out perform two people, what if you get tired near the end of the day?"

Max turned and looked right at Channing. "I'll make ya a deal mister, I'll come in tomorrow free like, you don't have to pay me nut'n. I'll sling that meat all day, if'n I slip up even a little, I'll pay you a hundred dallars and kiss your ass in front of everyone in this plant."

Max sat back in his seat and looked out the front window and grew silent.

"Well," said Channing, "Did you do it?"

"Sure did, had to, I didn't have a hundred dollars to pay off the bet, and I sure as hell didn't want to kiss that foreman's fat ass." Another laughing spell brought on another coughing spell.

"I slung that meat for five years, twelve hours a day, six days a week. During that same time, I married a filing clerk at the plant and she squeezed out a young'n."

"After a couple more years, she started whoring around on me, got together with dis security guard at a local prison, took what money she could and booked."

Max was quite for a while as he rubbed his callused hands together.

"I found out who the joker was and caught him coming out of a after hours bar down on Long Street just east of downtown. He was a big son-of-a-bitch. Had me by one or two inches and prob'ly 100 pounds. But I knew as soon as I looked inta the mans eyes, I was go'in to whip him. And that son is what this whole convoluted story is about." Suddenly Max started to sound like a college professor. "If you want to know what is in a mans soul, all you have to do is look him in the eye."

"What does convoluted mean?" Channing thought.

"I read me a book when I was living with Aunt Moselle. It said the eyes are the gateway to the soul. Everything a man is, everything a man was, and everything a man will be can be found by looking in his eyes."

"I looked in this mans eyes and I saw fear, he knew my blood was up and he thought that might give me an advantage. All the advantage I needed I found in his eyes. He couldn't have broadcast his intentions more ifin he had written me a note and handed it ta me. First I'ma a goina' to take this right hand and sucker punch you up aside your head and ring your bell, and then before you can get your senses back I'ma goina' tap dance on your liver for four or five minutes and the discard you like yesterdays rubbish."

"He stepped forward to use that right hand, and instead of backing up or ducking, I stepped forward also, brought my forehead down on the bridge of his nose just as hard as I could. His hand glanced off the back of my head with barley a bump. I grabbed his shirt by his lapels with both my hands and brought my right knee up to meet his family jewels."

"He went down like a stuck hog, bleeding out ta nose and throw'n up all over the side walk. He was right about one thing, my blood was boiling. I kicked him from head to toe till he went limp and I thought I'd killed the bastard."

"I scooped him up like a side of beef and threw him in a dumpster. They found him the next day and took him to the hospital. Soon after that, he left town with my ex, and I never heard from them again."

"But I tell you this story to tell you this. What were you doing when that boy was getting ready to sucker punch you and take your money a couple weeks back?"

Max looked hard at Channing. Channing was shocked.

"I saw the whole thing look'n out my winda', tried to get out there got tangle in my oxygen hose a feel down with a thump. Daughter came running thought I'd bought the big one." Max started laughing again. " So what were ya doin'"

Channing tried to remember, "I was talking to them, telling them I needed the money for lunch."

"Nope!" Max said with authority. "You had been talking to them, but at the time the big boy drew back on you, you were looking at your shoes! There be notin in your shoes that'll save ya from a sucker punch. Garunteed. Ya gota look at their eyes!"

"The rest of ta story is, it turns out that no good bastard I beat up and left in the dumster had a part time job working for Johnny DePalma, big time booky in Central Ohio. Three people saw me take him apart like he was nothing, so a few days later who pulls up in front of my house? You guessed it, Johnny DePalma hisself."

"He offered me a job taken care of lowlifes that didn't pay their bets. I turned him down until I found out what it paid. Quit my job, bought this house and spent the rest on fast women and slow horses."

Max started laughing again, the man loved to laugh, but this started the coughing again. When it subsided, Max continued. "So this is what it boils down ta boy. You have ta look a man in the eye. There eyes will tell ya everthin'."

"When we get down to Greentree's, you go in, now listen ta me boy, you go in and look straight inta Franklin's eyes and tell him he cheated you on them there motors. Now you just keeps watching them eyes when I walk in. Don't look at anythin cept them eyes until we leave that place. Got it?"

"Yes sir....I mean yes, I got it." Stammered Channing.

The drive to Greentrees was the exact same route that Channing had taken earlier, but it seemed totally different when your behind the wheel of a truck rather than walking down the sidewalk.

When Channing got close to Greentree's, Max had him park on the street and not pull into the yard where Franklin was, as he might recognize the truck.

When Channing entered the gate the scene was exactly as he had seen it this morning. A high wooden fence circled the front of the building right up to the sidewalk. A large barn was straight ahead through the gate with the word Greentree written above the center door in big letters. Just inside this opened center door was the scale. Large metal basket carts on dollies would be loaded with material and the cart would be rolled up onto the scale, only Franklin or one of his employees were aloud to put anything on the scale. A large meter above the scale would display the weight. It currently read minus eighteen pounds

As each cart weighed eighteen pounds, an empty a cart would bring the scale back to zero and only the material in the cart would read as a positive weight.

To the right of the open door was an awning over a cement slab, like a patio. A window under the awning had a sign above it that read cashier.

There were a half dozen miss-matched metal lawn chairs, along with four small tables, Franklin was sitting under the awning in one of three miss-matched chairs. An unlit cigar hung out of his mouth as he looked at the day's paper. Franklin was of average height, but was quite large around the waist. He wore blue canvas work pants and a matching work shirt that said Greentree across the left breast pocket.

As Channing walked the fifty feet or so from the gate entrance to the patio where Franklin sat, he tried to watch Franklin's eyes, but the distance was too great. As he got closer, he could tell that Franklin was glancing up over the paper and watched Channing approach.

Channing found it very hard to maintain eye contact. It felt uncomfortable, he wanted to look away, or look at the ground, but he knew what Max had told him, "Don't look at anythin cept them eyese until we leave that place."

Franklin's eyes were brown, they had a lot of red on the inside and outside edges. He drank, a lot. The thought came into Channing's mind as quick as lightning. He had never been around anyone who drank to access, not until recently that is, but he knew for sure that Franklin drank. He could tell just by looking in his eyes. Just like Max said, you can read a person.

Franklin tried to look up and hold a stare with Channing but he always returned to the paper.

As Channing stepped up on the patio he walked up to one side of Franklin so the paper Franklin was reading would not block his view of Franklin's eyes, he said, "You cheated me on those motors."

Even though Franklin was not looking directly at Channing, he could see that that statement had an immediate effect on Franklin. He became angry. Channing could see it, Franklin was very mad.

Franklin continued to stare at the paper. Channing could tell he was not reading it, he was just looking at it to keep from acknowledging Channing.

"You cheated me on those motors." Channing repeated.

Franklin folded the paper in half and with two fingers of his left hand grabbed the next page, he opened the paper back and continued to pretend to read.

"I offered seventeen, you agreed, deals done, now beat it kid before I call the cops."

Even as he said it, Channing knew Franklin would not call the cops. Channing did not know why, but Franklin's eyes told him that the last person Franklin wanted to see was a cop.

Franklin continued to pretend to read the paper. Channing could see his eyes and they were changing. At first they seemed to reflect superiority, I am the adult, you're the kid, my rules, I win. Then there was a flash of fear. Just a flash, like maybe there was something that he did not know about at play here. But that pasted quickly, just a flash. Then irritation, then they changed to...what, Channing was having a hard time putting a finger on it. Maybe caution.

"Where ya live kid?" Franklin asked still pretending to read the paper.

"Terrace Avenue, south of Sullivant."

The change that came over Franklin's eyes was amazing. If Channing had not seen it for himself he would not believe it.

Fear, no not fear, terror appeared in his eyes. Then settled down to fear.

Channing could tell he was thinking hard. Franklin's eyes were wide and unfocused, still starring at the paper.

"How long ya live there?" Franklin asked.

"Couple months." Channing replied.

The fear eased up in Franklin's eyes.

Something suddenly appear in the corner of Channing's eye. It was Max. Franklin could not see him because the paper blocked his view straight ahead. Max was still standing on the gravel lot, he had not stepped up onto the patio. He no longer wore the oxygen hose or carried the canister under his arm. How did Max walk clear across that gravel lot without Channing hearing the first crunch of gravel?

"I don't suppose ya know many folks in that neighborhood, see-ons ya only lived there a couple of months?" Franklin asked.

His eye, Channing could tell were starting to relax, the fear was fading to the background.

Channing was about to answer when the deep gravely voice of Max beat him to it. "He might have met one neighbor."

The terror that had flashed in Franklin's eyes earlier was back, This time it even more intense. The paper Franklin had been holding crumpled in his lap as he brought his hands down rapidly. The first noise that left his mouth Channing would not have even called human. It was a cross between a scream and a grunt, a hiss and maybe a cry of anguish. Franklin's face turned snow white instantly.

Franklin tried to say something and it caught in his throat, he coughed and tried again. "Psych!! I...I...I heared you was dead."

Max stepped up on the patio and looked down on the still seated Franklin. "If I might borrow the words of that great author Mark Twain, 'The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated."

Max walked right up to Franklin until he was towering over him. Channing had to move a couple of feet over to keep Franklin's eyes in his sight.

"It would seem," Max began, "that earlier today there was an error in computing the real value of three used motors. I would offer that this was just an error, an oversight if you will, because to think of it as anything else would mean it was a deliberate attempt to cheat this boy, who happens to be a very close personnel friend of mine, out of his rightfully earned money." Max leaned forward almost into Franklin's face as he said the last few words.

"Error...yes, that's what it was just an error. Lets see, three motors, I do seem to remember that one was bigger that ta others, that would be, lets see bout thirty seven fifty. Isn't that what I gave you?" Franklin said trying to weasel.

"You gave me seventeen dollars." Channing said.

"Seventeen, seventeen," stammered Franklin, "no, no, no, that was an error, yes it was an error."

Franklin jumped up so fast his chair went over backward, slid across the patio and hit the building. "Here," he said, "I will take care of this error right now."

Franklin raced over to the window-marked cashier, and beat on the window. Channing was afraid for a moment that he would break the window.

When the window finally slid open, Franklin had a frantic conversation with the women inside the building. Channing had handed her a slip of paper earlier that day and the women had given him seventeen dollars.

A small argument ensued with Franklin almost yelling "Just give me the money."

Finally Franklin's hands reached in the window and came out with two ten-dollar bills and two quarters.

He rushed across the patio to where Channing and Max were waiting. Pushing the money into Channing's hand he stuttered, "Thirty-seven fifty, that's what it should have been. I made a mistake, lot on my mind ya know? Thirty seven fifty, there it is. Were square, just a mistake."

Channing could see the terror start to subside from Franklin's eyes. "Just a mistake! Just a mistake." He kept repeating.

"Well now Franklin," Max said. "That is very magnanimous of you. It would be a shame to find that you were complicate in crimes involving moral turpitude."

As the terror drained from Franklin's eyes, Max spun on his heel and headed for the gate. Channing followed close behind.

" _We have learned something very important here today."_

"Oh, bye the bye," Max said while continuing to walk and without turning around. "I consider Channing here to be a tyro in revivification of unwanted leavings. As such, I expect you to treat him as if you were dealing directly with me. Any divagation from this course will be met with obdurate reguital."

Franklin just stood and stared, trying to figure out what Max had just said. Channing himself was trying to remember the words so he could Google them later.

On the drive home Channing asked Max why Franklin had called him Psych?

"People say I know what someone is going to do before they do it. Sometimes I can tell you what someone is going to say before they say it. It's all in the eyes boy, you gota look a person in the eyes." Max answered.

The trip back to Max's garage was exciting for Channing, he got to drive for the second time in his life. After three attempts at backing the truck into the garage, Max finally took over and backed it in on his first try.

##  Chapter Fourteen

Channing bought the tickets first thing Monday morning. He was so excited. He tried to find Jessica to tell her he had the tickets, but he did not see her on Monday or Tuesday.

" _Do you think she is trying to avoid you?"_

"Why?" Channing asked. "I have the tickets, everything is set. Right?"

" _Nicole Harrison said she had a boyfriend."_

"Well the next time we see her, maybe we should ask."

" _I am not sure you would get a straight answer._ "

"We'll see."

By Wednesday Channing was so anxious to see Jessica he practically ran all the way to the school.

Jogging across the playground on the side of his school, Channing reached the same door near where he had asked Jessica Tanner to the dance just a month ago.

Reaching for the door it suddenly burst open striking Channing on the hand and then the head.

Channing yelled as he fell backwards stunned. His head was spinning, and he could feel the blood running down the right side of his face. His right hand, which had been reaching for the door when it burst open, felt like several fingers were broke. He brought his left hand up to his head as he tried to stand up.

"Stay down, you look better down there." Howard Hanes said as he pushed Channing's shoulder with his foot, knocking Channing backward onto his back.

" _Get up and run, now!"_

Channing knew it was bad to be on the ground during a fight, instinctively, he rolled onto his side away from Howard Hanes and leapt to his feet still holding his left hand on his right eye.

He wasn't on his feet long though, Jordan Flate and Jimmy Newsome had come out of the door with Howard Hanes and were now standing behind Channing.

Jimmy Newsome pushed Channing with both hands as hard as he could right at Howard. Howard sidestepped and Channing stumbled forward into the glass door the bullies had just come through.

Channing slammed into the door hard and hung onto the handle to keep from falling. He knew he was in trouble. The blood running into it from a cut on his forehead blinded Channing's right eye, and his right hand was incapacitated with two fingers swelling rapidly.

Howard Hanes stepped forward and slammed a punch into Channing's back.

Channing nearly blacked out from the pain. He had slumped to his knees when he felt the door he was leaning against begin to open.

Principal Shephard was not quite six feet tall, balding, not fat, but with a pudgy look that reflected a soft life. He wore a mustache that curled up at the ends just a little. When he walked he seemed to be leaning forward and his feet seemed to shuffle. The students called him shuffling Shephard, or they called him Spanky, who knows where that came from.

"Boys." He said as he stuck his head out of the door. "That will be enough of that."

"Mind your own business, school ain't even started yet." Howard Hanes yelled at him.

"I'll not have you fighting on school property." The Principal replied.

"Get your fat ass back inside the school, or I'll tell my dad to pay you a visit at your house. You know he knows where you live."

Channing could not believe Howard was talking to the principal that way. Why would Principal Shephard allow that?

Principal Shephard began to pull his head back into the school.

"Wait!" Channing shouted. "Help me!"

"You shut up!" Howard Hanes said as he landed another punch into Channing's back.

Channing fell the rest of the way to the ground and curled up in a ball. The Principal pulled his head back into the school and disappeared.

Howard kicked Channing in the shoulder. "Get up, I ain't done with you yet."

"Come on Howard," Jimmy Newsome said, "Old Shuffling Shephard is probably calling the cops!"

"Yea, lets get." Added Jordan Flate.

"That old bastard won't call the cops." Howard said without much conviction in his voice. "My dad paid him a visit last year, he's as scarred as a little rabbit."

Howard bent down and started going through Channing's pockets.

The first thing he found was eleven dollars. That is what Channing had left from the previous Saturday's pay day.

Next Howard found two ticket to the fall dance that was less than a week away. "Look, guys!" Howard proclaimed as he held up the tickets. "Looks like I'm goin to the fall dance after all."

"Thought you was grounded?" Jimmy Newsome said.

"Mom says I am, but dad won't let me miss the dance if I already have the tickets." Howard stood up and gave Channing's back one last kick. "Lets get."

All three boys pushed past Channing and slipped into the school.

## Chapter Fifteen

The walk home was hard. Channing's head had quit bleeding but the blood had run down the front of his shirt, and was all over his left hand. Two fingers on his right hand were swollen, but because he could move them, he no longer thought they were broken, but they hurt bad.

Channing was nearing his house when he heard the deep gravely voice of Max. "Seems ya ran inta them bullies again, huh?"

Channing had not been paying attention, so the interruption to his thoughts startled him. "Max!" He stammered.

Max studied Channing's face for a second. "Looks like ya could use a couple a stitches."

Channing started towards his house, "Maybe my dad will be sober enough to take me to the emergency room."

"Screw that." Max growled. "You need some fixin by someone who knows how to keep ya lookin purty." Max turned on his heel, "Come on."

Channing followed. He trusted Max. He wasn't sure why, but he seemed to feel instinctively that Max wouldn't steer him wrong.

Max drove several blocks over to Broad Street pulled into a driveway of what looked like an average two story house.

There was no front lawn as the house was right on the sidewalk. Pulling behind the house there was a small parking lot. Two cars were already there. Max made three, and there was room for just two or three more. They entered through a door at the back of the house. A faded sign hung to the right of the door that said, Dr. Wendell Abrams MD.

Inside what would have been at one time a kitchen, was a waiting room. The chairs looked old and solid. Something from the past when things were made to last.

A faded office hours schedule hung on one wall, and there was the obligatory magazine rack on another. Channing even noticed the magazines were as old as the chairs.

A small sliding window was next to a door of the far wall.

Every chair was taken. Most of the people were older, several looked ancient.

Max ignored the people and walked directly to the window.

"Hey Doris." Max said.

Doris looked up, "Max! Long time. Come in to get patched up again?"

"Nah, just came in ta see a beautiful girl that picked the wrong guy ta marry."

"Go on with ya Max,"

"Na, I really came to have the Doc fix up young Channing here. He ran into a wall, and if I don't miss my guess, might need a couple of stitches."

Doris looked past Max and took a good look at Channing.

She got up from her chair and opened the door motioning Channing through.

Max followed and she led them to a small room, a standard doctors office exam room, except a little smaller than Channing's regular doctors.

"Hop up here." Doris said patting the exam table.

Channing hopped up on the exam table and winced as his side hurt.

Doris used her hand on Channing's chin to guide his face to the left and right.

"Might need a couple stitches above your eye." I'll get the tray ready.

"Tell doc ta keep the stitches tight. Would'nt want ta scar him up too much." Max said.

Doris used her fingers to feel Channing's cheekbones. "Nothing seems to be broke." She said. "Were you hit anywhere else?"

"They kicked me in the back and in the ribs." Channing said as he rubbed his side.

"Off with the shirt young man." Doris commanded.

Channing did not even hesitate, she seemed to be in command, and he did not even think about not obeying her.

She ran her fingers up and down Channing's ribs, he squirmed as this tickled.

"Hold still, hold still." Doris admonished.

Several time Channing winced as Doris hit a sore spot. She would see the wince and feel around that area good.

"Nothing broke, just some bruising." She proclaimed.

"You can put your shirt back on, the doctor will be in to see you in a minute." With that she left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Max, I don't know how I am going to pay for this, I don't think Mom and Dad have any insurance anymore." Channing said.

"Don't ja worry bout it." Max said. "Doc owes me, he'll take care of ya."

While they waited for the doctor, Channing explained to Max what happened, including the Principal coming to the door and then leaving without helping.

"Don't know any Hanes people around here, gona hav-ta look inta that boy, see what he's made of." Max said while rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Mean while your gona hafta go inta training. You have the makins of a good fighter, couple ah months, I could have ya in decent shape."

"We get done here, come over ta the garage. I know there is no way ta keep a surprise door from cold cocking ya, but there is somp-in ya can do even if your bell is wrung."

When the doctor entered the room, Channing was completely surprised. The doctor was small, young, female, and very pretty.

"Hello Max, training youngsters in your line of work?" She asked when she saw Channing.

"Now Ms. Abrams, ya knows I don't believe in fightn, less it's all that's left." Max said defensively.

The doctor stepped towards Channing, placing her hand under his chin, she raised his chin and moved it side to side. "Doris should have been a doctor, you are going to need about three stitches. And yes Max I will keep them small and tight, so this poor boy doesn't have to grow up looking like you."

That started Max laughing, which started a small coughing spell.

Doctor Nicole took her stethoscope off her shoulder, placed the ear pieces in her ears and walked right over to Max. Placing the stethoscope on Max's chest. "Take a deep breath."

"Hey, hey, Channing hear is the one that needs doctor-n." Max complained.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, blow me, and take a deep breath." The Doctor insisted.

Max did as he was told. Doctor Nicole moved the stethoscope around Max's chest and then continued on his back. Taking the stethoscope off and hanging it around her neck again, she said. "Looks like that new drug is working for you, not nearly the congestion of a month ago."

"And you are just as mean as your old man was!" Max said.

"You just remember that." Said Doctor Nicole as she turned her attention to Channing.

At that moment Doris appeared carrying a small tray. She set it on a small table that had other medical office odds and ends on it.

The stitches took less than half an hour. Doctor Nicole then went over Channing much the same as Doris had done. Confirming there was no permanent damage, she told Channing to change the bandaid above his eye every other day and come back in two weeks so she could remove the stitches.

Max and Channing were both quite on the way home.

As Channing got out of the truck when Max had backed it in to the garage Max said, "You get some rest, but make sure you go to school tomorrow, no matter how bad ya feel. Can't let them hooligans know they got the best of ya."

"Couple a days, when ya be feeling better, we'll get you lined up to take care of dem guys." Max continued.

## Chapter Sixteen

Channing's dad was not at home when he got there, his mom had already left for work. A quick shower and Channing took two aspirins and went to bed.

Three hours later he woke up in a considerable amount of pain. A quick trip to the bathroom to relieve himself, and he did a double take in the mirror.

The area above and around his right eye was yellowish. There was some brownish looking stuff the doctor had used to clean up around the cut before she put the stitches in. His left cheek had a two-inch scratch, the doctor had also cleaned up and put some antibiotic on. The right side of his upper lip was twice its normal size. The yellowish skin seemed to be spreading to the bridge of his nose. He expected that by morning he was going to look like a raccoon. The fingers on his right hand were swollen and almost unusable. His left arm and shoulder were sore where he had been kicked more than once. And his head still ached.

With less than a week to go before the dance, he now had no tickets, no money, and he doubted if an ogre would want to go to the dance with him with the way he looked.

Channing decided he had to try to get his money and tickets back.

" _You know Shuffling Shepard is not going to get your tickets back. You saw how Howard Hanes cowed him."_

"I have got to try. The dance is only a week away, I need those tickets."

" _Even if you get those tickets, what makes you think you still have a date for the dance. Jessica Tanner would not be caught dead with a guy with two black eyes."_

Channing knew he was taking a risk. "She said she would go, it's not my fault Howard Hanes is an asshole." Channing looked around real quick because he did not use bad words often and it felt funny. "I didn't ask to get beat up."

With two hours left to go in the school day, Channing got dressed and headed for the school. He would talk to Principal Shephard and see if he could get his tickets and money back from Howard Hanes. After all, the Principal did see the fight, even if he was not around for the robbery.

Less than an hour later Channing was walking back home. His head hurt, his side hurt, and one look at him outside the Principal's office, his blackening eyes, swollen lip, and several scrapes and scratches, Jessica Tanner caught him just outside the principal's office.

"Channing, what happened to you?" Jessica asked.

Channing had started to explain, but Jessica had interrupted.

"I heard you got into some kind of fight, but I didn't think you would look so bad." She hesitated and seem to be making a decision. "Well, something has come up. I won't be able to go to the dance with you on Saturday." With that she had turned around and walked off.

One of the girls who had overheard what she said added. "Yea, her boyfriend can suddenly go to the dance and you look like shit." The girl crossed her arms, "She is so shallow she thinks the sun only rises for her. Bitch."

Channing barley heard the last word, he was already heading for the door. All in all it was turning into the worst day of his life.

But his day got even worse. Just two blocks from his house he saw his dad drive by. The back seat of his dad's car was lined with his dad's suits. The passenger seat was piled high with boxes and papers.

Channing's dad did not notice Channing standing on the sidewalk. He seemed to be wiping his nose with his sleeve as he went by. He drove down to the intersection Channing had just come through and turned left, heading for the main road in their neighborhood.

It all happened so fast. Channing never had a chance to flag his father down or yell.

Channing continued to walk towards his house, maybe he was taking his suites down to pawn them, he did not need them to get drunk and sleep on the couch.

Channing tried to shake the bitter thoughts out of his head, but he found it hard, sometimes it feels good to feel sorry for oneself. He could not explain it, but he sometimes felt the world was conspiring to ruin his life. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, bad thing kept happening. His life had become a series of disasters.

He continued to shuffle home, his head hurt, his side hurt and his leg hurt. So much has happened, so much pain. His head was down as he got within a half block of his house. Why do I even try Channing thought.

" _Maybe two more aspirins and a couple more hours of sleep would help shake you out of the funk you are in."_

"What's the use." Channing mumbled.

" _Everything will get better."_

"Yea, in like a million years."

The noise of a car made Channing look up. Still a half block from his house he saw his mom back out of the driveway and head down the road.

Channing thought about yelling and waving, but that would mean he would have to explain his swollen lip, scratches on his face and lets not forget six stitches.

Plus, he was getting home an hour early. Too much to explain, not even worth the trouble. Mom would never understand.

" _Come on. You know your Mom would understand, she loves you unconditionally."_

"Whatever. I just don't feel like the hassle right now."

Channing went to his back door where he let himself in with a key. Normally the door was not locked, but normally his dad was home.

As Channing entered the kitchen, he felt hungry. After all, he had not eaten since breakfast. He was not sure he could chew with his lip so swollen.

His thoughts of finding something to eat were interrupted by a folded piece of the paper on the table with his name on it.

Channing picked up the paper and opened it.

The note was written in his mom's handwriting.

Channing,

Your dad has gone to your uncle Mark's

house to stay for a while. He might have a job

close to there. He will try to visit you on week-

ends as work permits.

There is a snack in the frig and you can

have a frozen pizza for dinner.

Do not forget to do your homework and

brush your teeth.

I hope to see you in the morning before you

go to school.

I love you.

Mom

Channing stared at the note for a long time. Tears welled up in his eyes and the words on the note became blurry.

" _They have been arguing a lot lately, they might be getting a divorce."_

"I know, I just thought of that." He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. "It could be legit, maybe he is getting a job."

" _Could be, we will just have to wait and see. Why don't we take a couple of aspirin and go to bed?"_

"I don't think so. I want to go junkin."

" _But you are too sore. You just got six stitches. You can take a day off."_

"I could, but that isn't what I need to do. I don't want to take a day off. I am going junkin!"

" _Good!"_

After three hours of junkin in the alleys near his house, Channing gathered the junk in his shed. He crushed the cans and some other metal he found separating the different metals into different plastic contractor bags. The bags would then be hauled to Greentree's.

## Chapter Seventeen

Channing did not see his mother for breakfast. That was OK to him, he really did not want his mom to see him in the condition he was in. His side was so sore he had a hard time getting out of bed. When he reached for his cereal in an upper cupboard he thought for sure his rib was broken. But he trusted the doctor that said it was only a bruise.

He was a little apprehensive about the walk to school. However he had made up his mind that if he saw Howard Hanes, Jimmy Newsome, or Jordan Flate, he was going to swing first and ask questions later.

He did not see those three, but he did see Nicole Harrison. He joined her just two blocks from his house.

"Channing what happened to you?" Nicole said after seeing Channing's face.

"Ran into a door." Channing did not think it was much of a lie.

"Word in school was you got jumped by Howard Hanes again." Nicole said.

Channing looked into Nicole's eyes. He was sure she was not asking to be mean, but showed genuine concern. "Well...the door was thrown open by Hanes."

"Once they got me down two of them pounded on me pretty good. Jordan Flate did not seem to want anything to do with it." Channing continued. "What I don't understand is Principal Shephard came out when it first started, but he did not do anything. He could have stopped it."

"Spanky won't touch Hanes, he is afraid of his father. Well not really his father its his step father. A guy named Hammer, or something. Spanky and that guy went to school together years ago and he used to beat up Spanky all the time. Now Hanes can do what he wants and Spanky won't touch him."

Channing made a mental note to tell Max about Howard Hane's stepfather, Hammer.

Channing was surprised that he did not see any of the boys that beat him up at school all day. He also did not see Principal Shephard.

That continued all week. He did not see the bullies or the Principal. By Friday he thought maybe the Principal had called the police and now the bullies were in trouble.

As the week continued he walked home with Nicole Harrison.

On Friday after some small talk, "So, you still taking Jessica Tanner to the dance on Saturday?" Nicole asked.

Channing walked in silence for a couple of seconds. "I am not going to the dance. Who would want to go to a dance with me. Look at my face. It is a mess."

"I don't know, I think there are some girls that could overlook a couple of scratches." Nicole said.

"Look, I got to go." Channing started walking faster and quickly crossed the road cutting between houses to the alley he knew was behind there.

He liked Nicole, but Jessica had burned him bad. He did not have the guts to ask Nicole to the dance. Even if he had the guts, he did not have the tickets or the money to buy more tickets.

" _I really think Nicole would go to the dance with you."_

"Yea, but what if she says no." Channing shook his head. "I don't think I can take two rejections to one dance."

" _You can not crawl into a hole and hide from life."_

"Maybe, but I think I need more time before I will ask another girl out."

" _I'm just saying, Nicole is as pretty as Jessica, and she has a better personality, as is turns out!"_

"I'll keep that in mind if I ever ask a girl out again."

" _You will, just need a little time."_

## Chapter Eighteen

Channing's book report on how the economic downturn effected him got an A, after he spent just one hour telling the story of his last two years. No whining, just the facts. Six years, two moves, three schools, and both parents loosing jobs with no prospects in sight.

The rest of the week went quickly. Channing went trash picking every afternoon after school.

On Saturday Channing was on his way home from Franklin's when he found Max waiting by his back gate.

"Your face looks like shit." Max said in his gravely voice, then laughed.

Channing laughed with him. "It actually feels better than it looks."

"That ain't say'n much. It hurts me ta look at it." Max started laughing.

After the obligatory coughing spell, Max continued. "Bout time I started show'n ya how ta fight. That is if'n ya want me to?"

"I sure do! I want to kick the stuffing's out of Howard Haynes and his sidekicks." Channing exclaimed.

"Well, I can't exactly guarantee a win, after all, three agin' one is tall odds for anyone. But I think I can show you enough ta make them fellas think twice before they came your way again."

Max held out his hand and dropped a key in Channing's outstretched hand. "Here is a key ta my garage. I hung a punching bag in there, I'll shows ya what ta do, then ya can come in here everyday, cept weekends, and practice. Least an hour. If'n ya going ta do it then do it, don't screw round, make it count. Got it?"

"Yes." Channing acknowledged.

"Good! I been noticing you looking me in the eye lately. Good...Good. The secret to winning any fight lies in your opponents eyes!"

Max motioned Channing to follow him into the garage. "Everything a man is, everything he knows, everything he has done, and everything he will do is in his eyes. Does he like you, its in his eyes. Is he a thief, a liar? Look in his eyes. Is he scared, is he hiding something?"

Max walked over the punching bag and gave it a push. "Most people ain't good-nuf to stand still and let ya belt um one, they keep moving. Go-head, give it some punches."

Channing walked over to the bag and began swinging left and rights at it.

"Just what I thought," Max growled. "You'll break every knuckle ya got in the first two minutes of the fight."

Channing stopped and looked at Max. "How do you do it then?"

"Hold your hand out like your saying 'How' to an Indian, bend your fingers down at the middle knuckle, put your thumb up the side of your hand and strike with the butt of your hand. The outside part of your palm just above the wrist."

Channing held his hand up like Max had described. He struck the bag several times, first with the right as jabs, then with the right with a lot more power.

"It feels funny." He said.

"It will, but it'll come natural like after a bit." Max stated. "The alternative is ya break a knuckle or two in the first couple of blows and then your opponent wins."

"See dem' double dots wit the u shaped line." Max continued.

There where several combinations of dots and u shaped lines at different heights on the bag. Channing shook his head.

"Well, dem dots is the eyes, and the line represents the jaw, from one ear down to the chin and back up to da otter ear. Your target should be da line. Hit a man on the jaw bone and most times it takes him down, don't matter where on the jaw bone, but its best if you hit it as an upper cut. Look em in da eye, hit em in the jaw!"

Max watched Channing for a couple of seconds. " When ye hit the bag, try to put yer hand right through it. Don't just scratch the surface. Pretend there is a reward on the other side of the bag and you're goin ta punch right thru da bag and grab it."

"Slow down." Max continued. "Punch, if-n ya connect, then see if he counters, if he does, avoid it and punch again. I know it's easy said, hard to do, buts ya gots to think on these terms. Ya got to hit him just one more time than he hits you!"

Channing stopped punching and said between heavy breaths, "So, what do you do it there are more than one?"

"Take a break." Max said as he pulled up an old stool and sat down. "Fight-n mor-n one asshole at a time is for da movies. In real life, two or three guys come at ya, well, it's a good way to meet da undertaker! It's different at your age, most you probably get would be broken bone or two. But don't you treat it any different. Two-three guys pick a fight, ya do whatever it takes to survive. The best bet is just get away. There ain't no shame in running from an unfair fight."

Max rubbed his chin. "Seems ta me you be the type that thinks they have to stay and fight just so's other kids don't call ya a coward." He paused. "It doesn't matter how many you be facing, what matters is how many be willing to fight. So when the confrontation kicks off, look at everyone around you. Look em in the eye. That will tell you who is here to do ya harm, and who is here for the entertainment."

"Another ting," Max continued, "If ya see a weapon, and that could be anyting, a board, a knife, a baseball bat. Well I'm just say-n, run like hell. Ya ain't got no business go-in against a weapon unarmed. But member this, anyting can be a weapon. Ever get hit by a book, hurts like hell. Ashtrays, ain't to common these days, they could take a man out in the day. A chair can do a lot of damage. Even small things like pencils and pens, people have a tendency to flinch from anyting thrown at them, gives you an advantage."

"When ya be in a fight for your life, don't be think'n fair, ya gotta bite, scratch, gouge, and punch the family jewels of anyone that wants ta take your life. I don't care who you are, ya have the right to use everyting at your disposal to insure your survival."

##  Chapter Nineteen

Over the next five months Channing practiced everyday in Max's garage. Sometimes Max would coach him and sometimes, on his good days, he would even spar with Channing, when his COPD wasn't bad. Most of the time Channing would practice a minimum of an hour a day without Max. He also used the pick up truck almost every Saturday to take his metal to Greentree's. Sometimes Max would go with him, sometime Channing drove himself.

He saw none of his tormenters at school. The change in semesters might have had them at different parts of the building. As his training progressed he almost wished he would get into another confrontation. When he saw Jessica Tanner he would ignore her.

After numerous trips to Greentree's, Channing was surprised one day when Broad Street was closed due to an accident. Traveling several blocks out of his way to get to a one way street that would carry him over to McKinley he was shaken when a Columbus police got behind him and pulled him over.

Channing pulled over along the curb.

" _Stay calm!"_

"How can you say that, I'm fourteen and driving a truck that may or may not have insurance. I don't know, I never asked Max." Channing Said.

Channing sat rigidly in the drivers seat. He kept looking in the rear view mirror at the policeman right behind him, lights flashing.

He could see the policeman on and off the radio.

"I should look for the registration, he's going to ask for a license, registration, and proof of insurance!" Channing said.

" _You've seen enough episodes of Cops. You know if you move around too much, it will only cause the policeman to become suspicious! Then he'll want to search the truck."_

"Why should I care? It's not my truck." Channing almost yelled.

"Wait a minute!" Channing said. "He turned off his lights."

Channing watched as the policeman sat there for another minute, then backed up a little and pulled up beside Channing.

The policeman had his passenger window down, Channing rolled his window down.

He seem rather angry. "How do you know Max Stonerock?" The policeman asked.

"He is my neighbor." Channing said.

The policeman said, "Sure, why not. Tell Max his truck has a brake light out." He started to pull away and the stopped quickly. "How old are you?"

Channing thought about lying and saying he was sixteen.

" _You should never lie to the police. People who lie to the police find themselves in more trouble in the end. You can not win by lying."_

"Fourteen." Said Channing.

The policeman shook his head, "Why not?" And drove off.

" _What was that all about?"_

"I have no idea, but lets get this load to Greentree's and get home." Channing said.

When Channing asked Max about the strange behavior of the policeman, he was reluctant to talk about it at first.

When he finally opened up, it came in the form of another story.

"When I was working at da meat packing company, been working there bout a year I guess, I used to walk ta work an back. Couldn't ford no car. Most times I didn't even want to spend money for da bus."

Channing saw Max's eyes glaze over as he thought back decades.

"One day I be walking home when dis low life come running from between a couple of houses. Da houses be right up on the sidewalk an he runs right inta me. He be a small guy, scared me, but knocked him on his ass."

Max shook his head. "Bout ready ta start laughing when I sees this guy pulls a gun outa his pocket. His eyes tell me he plans to kill someone, but he don't even know I'm there. I figure he don't need to be killing no one, so's I grabs for the gun. About that time a second body comes from tween the houses. A cop. He slams into me and I trip over the low life. The gun goes off and I get my first gunshot wound, right in the shoulder. Well I hulls off and slugs the guy wit my good arm and break two knuckles. But I knocks the lowlife out."

Max rubs the top of his head, almost a nervous action from someone who Channing believed would never get nervous.

"The papers said the guy attacked me an the cop saved me. I never saw no reason to dispute what they said. I never wanted to be famous, an the cop got a promotion."

Again he paused, "I couldn't sling the meat for a month and the slaughter house fired me. Well I'll tell ya what that cop came to see me bout a week after they fired me an told me he had talked to the owner of the slaughter house and my job was waiting for me. He also told me if'n I ever needed anything, legal like, that is, to give him a call. Our paths crossed several times because of the business I be in. People get beat up, cops get called. He never pulled strings to get me outa trouble. Most of da people I contacted about their overdue accounts shall we say, never pressed charges. Na, if'n he had any evidence on me, he'd a run me in."

"That man was just an honest hard working cop, worked his way up the ranks and now he's the chief. So's wit'out his OK, the rest of the cops in Columbus are kinda leary about hassling me." Max started laughing, "The funniest part is, neither of us has ever asked anyone to treat me any different than a normal citizen. Neither one of us gave an interview to da press. As he moved up in the ranks, our paths crossed several times, because of the nature of my work. He told me plain, ya saved my life, but if'n ya do da crime, don't be looking at me to save ya. Course he was a bit more literate than that."

Max shook his head slowly, "Looked me right in the eye when he said it." He paused. "Ya got ta respect a man that holds right above all else."

"I have seen you talking to Franklin a lot when you go over there, you always talk about old times. Do you respect him?" Channing asked.

"Franklin?" Max said. "Na, never had respect for Franklin, knew him back when he was running book for DePalma. He was a weasel then, an he be a weasel now. I was always civil to him, cause he never crossed me personal like, but he never earned my respect."

"What do you mean, earn your respect?" Channing asked.

"I reckon you was taught ta respect your elders, policeman, fireman and of course every adult?" Max questioned.

"Well," said Channing, "yeah."

"Hmm" Max rubbed his chin. "Pisses me off when I hear people running around saying this person or dat person disrespected me. Hell, how can ya disrespect someone you never met, or barley know." Max paused. "When I was young, my aunt was a well to do old widow women in a small town that was very poor. She had several local men trying to woo her. But there be this one bastard who was younger than Aunt Moselle. He was all lovey-dovey with Aunt Moselle, but every chance he got he use ta whisper ta me, "Goina marry Moselle and then I'm gona ship your ass outa here, be no spending Moselle's money sept it be done by me."

Max seemed lost in thought for a couple of seconds. "If'n I was you I'd be running away, cause after the wedding you might not live long enough ta get away. Then he would laugh."

Again Max feel silent. "I thought for sure Aunt Moselle was a goin ta marry that fool."

"One day I couldn't take it no more. Aunt Moselle ya can't marry this man he's only after your money. Why I just started yell'n and carry'n on like a fool myself."

"Now Maxwell! She used ta call me by my given. You be civil to the guest in my house. Now you apologize and go to your room."

"That bastard jumped to his feet and started in on me. You better learn to respect your elders boy. Ya ain't nobody, and you owe me respect."

Again, a moment of silence. "I was in my room ball'n my eyes out when Aunt Moselle come up there a couple a minutes later. Thought she would be mad as hell, might even send me packin."

"Well she comes up ta my room and sits down on the bed. Maxwell, she says, I expect you to show civility to the quests I invite into this house."

"Now that being said, I will tell you point blank I have no intentions of marrying that man or any of the gentlemen I have been seeing lately. But I will tell you a secret. I lady sometimes likes to be talked to in a loving manner. It is good for her ego as she gets older. So I let these men sweet talk me and let me dream of times gone by, but they do not stand a chance at getting my hand in matrimony."

"As far as respect goes," She continued. "You owe no one respect. Listen to me closely, respect has to be earned. Respect is something you show to someone because of their abilities, qualities or achievements, you do not just give that away. You should be civil to everyone. Especially people you just meet. You treat them with civility. If they treat you the same way, then that is what is expected in society. Most of the people you will ever meet will never get passed the civility threshold. I expect you to treat all the guests I bring into my house with civility. You ask them if they are comfortable, you bring them something to drink, or show them to the bathroom. You do not have to have a smile on your face. But neither will you have a frown, or scowl. You will not mumble under your breath. You will act like it is your pleasure to serve them. You do not even have to like the person. You will not raise your voice to the person. If you do not have anything good to say about the person, then you say nothing at all, not just when they are here, but at anytime. But you will show them civility, this includes saying things like 'yes sir, or no sir, yes ma'am, or no ma'am.

"She seems ta think for a minute then continues. As far a policeman and fireman and the like, you should show respect for the job, but not necessarily the person doing the job. Being a policeman or fireman entails a certain amount of risk, and this fact must elicit a certain amount of respect for the job, again not necessarily for the person. Only after knowing a person for some time can one decide if that person deserves respect."

"There is one exception to this rule Maxwell, and that is with your mother and father. God rest their souls. Not all mothers and fathers are story book perfect. However, they brought you into the world and most do what they can, some with limited resources, to provide. Children should respect their mother and father. But even this comes with its exceptions."

## Chapter Twenty

Later as Channing was straightening out his shed and installing a new lock.

" _So who do we respect?"_

"Well, Mom and..." Channing hesitated, "Dad." He finished.

" _What about Max?"_

"He has never steered us wrong. He lets me use his truck. He is full of information and insight. I think I have a lot of respect for him."

" _What about his previous job of beating people up?"_

"I guess I can respect him without a lot of respect for the way he made his living."

" _That was a different time, peoples values and beliefs were different. Trying to evaluate his actions using the standards you were brought up with might be biased even inappropriate since you would be judging someone for believing something that you might not necessarily believe."_

"Your right, it is like telling all Methodist that they are wrong because of their upbringing, only Baptists are right. Or telling someone their grandfather is a bad person for the things he did in his day that was just a part of society at that time even if his actions would not be tolerated now."

Channing thought about it for a couple of seconds. "You can not judge a person for being a part of the society in which they were born and raised."

" _That may be true. But, some people are raised today to believe that the same views held by their ancestors are still to be believed today."_

"Yea, well some people believe that if your grandfather believed in something, than by association you believe in it. Guilty by association. How shallow is that?"

Channing continued sweeping the floor and finishing up the cleaning of his shed. He was surprised as the door to his shed suddenly opened. Nicole Harrison walked in.

Channing walked to school almost everyday with Nicole. Channing was becoming infatuated with her. He had even asked her to the winter dance and got his first kiss.

After that, they hung out a lot at school. He brought her to his clubhouse and showed her how he made money. She went with him several times but dumpster diving was not in her blood. He wanted so bad to take her in Max's truck to the scrap yard, but he thought that if anything happened he did not know how Max would feel about that and did not want to get on Max's bad side.

## Chapter Twenty-One

He saw less and less of his Dad who was coming home some weekends. His dad said that business was picking up and he was working on most weekends. Channing saw in his eyes that he was not lying. He really was working on weekends. He was still staying at Uncle Mark's house in Cincinnati. His dad told him the job in Cincinnati was working out pretty good and the company was considering expanding to Columbus.

For most of the winter he saw nothing of the three bullies that had beaten him up. Even Principal Shephard had disappeared for a month after the bullies had beaten Channing up on the steps of the school. Rumors around the school was that Howard Hanes, Jordan Flate and Jimmy Newsome were suspended for three months for beating up a fifth grader and being filmed by his sister.

It was also rumored that Howard Hanes dad beat Principal Shephard after he had turned in the bullies, and could not come to school because of a broken nose.

The spring dance came and went and Channing got his second kiss. He truly felt he loved Nicole.

When Channing started to see the bullies in school again, they seemed to go out of the way to avoid him. While he had no great desire to get into a fight with them. He felt confident after working with Max over the past five months that he could a least hold his own. But the thought of a fight scared him.

## Chapter Twenty-Two

It was a Monday morning when he would finally meet the bullies again. Channing's dad had come home for the weekend and taken him and his mom out to celebrate. The company was going to open an office in Columbus and they wanted Channing dad to manage it. They stayed out late Sunday night and Channing had forgot to set his alarm. He woke up five minutes after he should have left for school. He had been going two blocks to the west so he could meet up with Nicole and then they would head east towards the school.

Channing flew out of bed. He jumped into his clothes. Grabbing a toaster pastry from the cupboard and stuffing a juice pouch in his pocket, he did not bother to heat up the toaster pastry, just ran out of the door eating it cold.

Cutting through yards and alleys that he knew like the back of his hand now, Channing figured he would catch up with Nicole still three blocks from the school.

As he ran out from between two houses Channing spotted Nicole still a block shy of where he thought she would be. He started running toward her and then spotted the problem. Howard Hanes, Jordan Flate and Jimmy Newsome had Nicole and several other students stopped and were trying to extort money from them.

" _Be careful there are three of them. Remember what Max said, look at all of them to see which ones are going to fight and which ones are going to run."_

Channing ran faster and yelled, "Hey, leave them kids alone!"

Howard Hanes, Jordan Flate, and Jimmy Newsome all jumped and looked in the direction the yell had come from.

A strange butterfly feeling filled Channing's stomach. Should he be running towards three guys that have already bested him twice?

As Channing got a lot closer he could see their eyes.

What a gift this was. He could immediately tell that Jordan Flate was scared, he did not want to fight, and at that particular moment he wanted to run. Although he backed up a couple steps he did not run. Jimmy Newsome was startled and a little scared. After all, no one had told them to stop their activities in years. No one dared. Now here came 'new kid' that he had helped beat up at least twice yelling at them like he was in charge.

Howard Hanes had also turned towards the voice, his eyes gave him away also. How can this kid be so brave, what does he know that I don't.

Hanes looked around the street to see if maybe a cop had strayed into the area, or maybe an adult had come out of a house. But he did not see anything that would stop him from shaking down these kids.

Channing stopped just three feet in front of Hanes. Jordan Flate backed up another step. Jimmy Newsome moved to Channing's right side and just two feet away. Channing looked directly into Newsome's eyes, while he would not punch first, he would back up anything Howard Hanes did.

"Stop bothering these kids!" Channing demanded as he turned his attention back to Hanes.

Howard Hanes looked back at Channing but could not hold eye contact. Max was right, Hanes was telling Channing what he was going to do just like he was following a script. He was thinking, I whipped this kid twice and I will do it again.

Hanes was surprised when Channing suddenly turned towards Jimmy Newsome. He pulled the juice pouch out of his pocket. "Hey Newsome, want a juice pouch?" And with that said, he tossed the juice pouch into the air above Newsome's head.

As Jimmy Newsome looked up and reached up to catch the juice pouch, Channing took one step towards him and slammed a well-aimed punch into his solar plexus. Jimmy Newsome's legs gave way and down he went gasping for breath and retching as the juice pouch landed on his head.

Channing immediately turned toward Jordan Flate who had taken another step backwards. He pointed toward the street and yelled, "You better run Flate! Run!"

Jordan Flate needed no more encouragement than that. With a look of fear on his face he spun around and ran across the street and disappeared between two houses.

Howard Hanes had stood there stunned as Channing had taken out Jimmy Newsome and he was now watching as Jordan Flate disappeared across the street. When he finally turned back around, Channing was standing right in front of him.

"Are you done messing with kids in this neighborhood?" Channing asked.

Channing watched Howard Hanes' eyes closely. They went from fear to confusion and then to rage.

" _Watch it!"_

I see him, Channing thought.

Channing stepped toward Howard Hanes even as Hanes was drawing back his right arm to swing at Channing. He brought his right hand up in a vicious upper cut that landed on Howard Hanes left jawbone. Even as Howard Hanes weak punch was passing behind Channing's head, Channing slammed his left hand in to Howard Hanes' nose.

Howard Hanes dropped to the sidewalk like a sack of potatoes. His head hit the sidewalk and he was out cold. Several of the littler kids started crying.

" _We did it! I can't believe we did that!"_

'It just happened, I really did not think about it.' Channing thought. He felt like he was shaking on the inside.

"It's OK now, this bully will not bother you guys anymore." Channing said. "You better get moving to school." Slowly the shaking settled into just excitement.

Nicole and Channing ushered the littler kids down the sidewalk in front of them.

"Should we help them?" Nicole said as she glanced back at Howard Hanes and Jimmy Newsome. Then added: "When did you learn to fight like that? Did you hurt your fist?"

"I didn't hit Hanes with my fist, I used the butt of my hand." Channing replied. "Max taught me."

He glanced back as they continued toward school. Howard Hanes was now sitting on the sidewalk with a bloody nose and a red rash on the left side of his face where it had made contact with the sidewalk. Jimmy Newsome was still sitting on the grass beside the sidewalk holding his gut. "They will be fine, but hopefully they will not mess with kids in this neighborhood again."

Channing felt pretty good about himself. He had saved some kids from getting robbed, and he got his revenge on Howard Hanes and Jimmy Newsome. Channing could not remember Jordan Flate ever laying a hand on him.

## Chapter Twenty-Three

Channing was still feeling pretty good about himself when he was having lunch with Nicole.

"I still can not believe you beat up those guys this morning." Nicole said.

"It was something I had to do, I am just glad it worked out for me, it could have gone bad, quick." Channing replied.

"Did that Max guy teach you judo or karate?" Nicole asked.

"Actually no. He taught me how to punch, but that is not what won that fight. The real skill is looking the other guy in the eye and knowing what he is going to do even before he does it." Channing said.

"Like reading their mind or something?"

"No. It is just....well, if you look someone in the eye, it will tell you all you need to know. It will tell you if they are just going to stand there with their thumbs up their butts, or if they are going to swing." Channing said. "I knew Hanes was going to try to punch me even as he started to draw back to throw the punch. I stepped inside his punch and threw mine first."

"You can tell if someone is telling the truth or lying to you." He continued. "If he has bad intentions or good. You can even tell if someone is listening to you or just waiting for their turn to talk."

"Like, did you know the math teacher, Mr. Brady, is gay?"

"No way!" Said Nicole.

"And when Mrs. Davis took three weeks off last month, she said to care for a sick relative, that was a lie. I do not know why she was off, but I can tell you it was not to take care of a sick relative."

Suddenly the speakers in the cafeteria blared. "Channing Beck report to the office. Channing Beck to the office."

"What is that about?" Nicole asked.

"I do not know, maybe about the fight this morning." Channing replied.

"But I have not seen any of the bullies in school today." Said Nicole.

"Well, we will find out." Channing said as he got up and left the cafeteria.

## Chapter Twenty-Four

Channing pushed open the door to the office and entered. He was heading straight for the counter when he suddenly heard a voice from someone who was sitting behind the door he had entered.

"That's the kid." Channing heard Howard Hanes say.

Channing spun around to see Howard Hanes, Jimmy Newsome and a man Channing did not know sitting in the chairs along the wall.

The man stood and started walking towards Channing. He was a big man. Not just tall, but he had a huge girth on him. But even with his size he seemed to move smoothly, like at one time he would have been an athlete. Channing looked straight into the mans eye's and saw the man was mean. He did not have a kind bone in his body.

As he started toward Channing, Howard Hanes jumped up to follow. The man pushed Hanes back into his seat. "Stay put, he already whipped you once, I'll take care of this." The man said.

" _Be careful that man looks mad!"_

Channing was watching the man's eyes as he approached, but the man could not hold the stare. He looked Channing up and down like he was sizing him up for a fight. But his eyes told Channing that he did not want to go to jail for hitting a minor.

"So, you're one of the kids that ganged up on these two are ya?" The Man asked pointing his thumb over his shoulder to where Howard Hanes and Jimmy Newsome were sitting.

" _You need to straighten him out on what happened."_

Channing thought about answering using the same kind of language as Max. Words that he knew this man would not understand. But he could not think of the words and put them together like Max does.

Suddenly the door to the Principals office opened. "Channing Beck come inside please." Principal Shephard said.

The man grabbed Channing by the shoulder and started pulling him to the principal's office. "I think we all need to talk."

"You are right!" Channing heard Max say. He had not heard Max enter the office, he had not seen him enter the office, but there he was, standing not four feet from the man who was pulling at Channing.

" _You have got to ask Max how he does that!"_

"Mr. Hammermill, I had the inauspicious opportunity to converse with your consort. She thus informed me that you could be realized at this edifice." Max said.

Max stepped towards the man that was holding Channing and held out his right hand.

" _He is going to make happy with the step father of one of the bullies!"_

"Maxwell Stonerock." Max said.

The man stared at Max's hand for a second, trying to figure out what Max had just said, and then reached out his right hand to shake hands with Max.

Suddenly Max's left hand shot out like a snake and grabbed the right wrist of Mr. Hammer. He twisted the right hand back towards the mans body and pinned it there with his thumb.

The man's knees nearly buckle under him and he let out a yell of pain.

"Excuse me Principal Shephard, but would you mind so much if we used your province for a expeditious congress?" Max asked. He did not wait for an answer but started herding Hammer into the principal's office closing the door behind them.

Channing looked at Principal Shephard and Principal Shephard returned the look.

Suddenly there were several loud plopping sounds from behind the door. Then there were several more plopping sounds followed by a loud bang as something or someone collided with the door.

Muffled, indistinct voices could be heard, this was mainly Max's gravely voice although there were several loud yells before the second round of plops.

Max was heard laughing, this surprised Channing because it did not lead to a coughing spell.

"Channing Beck." Principal Shephard said. "While they conduct their....meeting. I must inform you that I have placed a call to your house but was unable to get in touch with your parents. Never the less, it has been reported to me that you and four other students jumped these two boys and beat them up on the way to school."

Channing was starring straight into Principal Shephard's eyes. Even as he was saying the words Principal Shephard did not believe the words he was saying.

"Therefore," He continued. "I am giving you a five day in school suspension."

" _I probably know where he got his information, but you need to straighten him out!"_

Channing started walking towards Principal Shephard. "First of all, you do not believe a word of what you just said. Second, you know these two," Channing pointed to Howard Hanes and Jimmy Newsome who were still sitting in the chairs along the wall, "have been victimizing students all year."

Channing paused as he had Principal Shephard backed up to the counter. "Third," he continued, "you made me!"

Principal Shephard started to sputter and speak, but Channing interrupted, "You knew these two had stolen my lunch money once, you saw them beating me up right on the steps to the school! And you did nothing."

Channing was fuming now. "You are the adult, you are supposed to be the authority! You forced me, and other students, to live in fear of these hooligans. You relinquished your power and allowed the hooligans to rule. So I became what I became because you did not have the guts to be what you were supposed to be. Man up and be the authority you are supposed to be."

Channing paused to catch his breath. Principal Shephard was still backed against the counter. "You really want to suspend students, well start with those two over there." He pointed to Howard Hanes and Jimmy Newsome.

Channing paused again, still starring hard at Principal Shephard's eyes.

"There were not five students in the fight this morning. It was just me. I am the one that beat up those two." Again he pointed towards the two boys in the chairs. "And I swung first. I hit Jimmy Newsome first, and when Howard Hanes drew back to hit me, I laid into him." Channing took one final step towards Principal Shephard. "Well are you going to suspend me for being what you made me or not."

Suddenly there was a arm around Channing's shoulder. "I could not have stated it better myself." Max said.

" _He did it again. How can he move around without anyone hearing him?"_

"Before you satisfy such an inquiry, I think Mr. Hammerhill has a shrift." Max continued. "Mr. Hammerhill?"

Mr. Hammerhill stepped forward towards Principal Shephard as Max gently guided Channing to one side. His face was red in certain areas, like around the ears and nose. His hair was messed up like he had just gotten out of bed.

"As you know I am Howard's step-dad. And I thought that maybe he might be picked on a lot at school, so I always told him to be tough. I told him to strike first and never back down." Hammerhill was looking down at the floor and fidgeting with his hands. He glance up at Max and then continued.

"I knew he was roughing up some of the kids around here, but I just figured that would keep him from being picked on. That is what they were doing this morning when they got their come-upends, I never thought it would go this far. I am sorry."

Hammerhill hesitated, after several sideways glances at Max, he went on. "If you see your way clear to not suspend Howard and Jimmy I promise I will beat them....I mean I will correct their behavior and you will not have any more trouble from them. This would be their second suspension this year, which could mean expulsion. If you give me a chance I think I can bring them around and they will not cause any more trouble."

Channing met Nicole after fifth period class and told her the story of what happened in the principal's office.

"Do you think Howard Hanes will try and get back at you?" Nicole asked.

Channing thought for a moment. "I kind of hope so. I still can not believe what I did this morning. I am going to have to thank Max for all of his training."

## Chapter Twenty-Five

As the school year ended, Channing saw only one of the three bullies. He would see Howard Hanes around, but they never had any direct contact. Jimmy Newsome and Jason Flate were never seen in the school again, and were rumored to be in some kind of home schooling.

Channing saw less of Nicole during the summer. Every once in a while she would be able to walk her little brother and sister to Hilltonia Park and he would meet her there. They would not even hold hands because younger brothers and sisters are tattle tales.

It was after school started again and after the fall dance that Channing got his third kiss.

## Chapter Twenty-Six

Channing had been junkin for almost a year now. He had learned a lot about the movement of people, into and out of houses in his neighborhood. He learned the sudden appearance of empty boxes on the front or back porch of a house usually meant the people in the house were getting ready to move.

This would mean a lot of extra trash coming out of the house and some of it would be in the form of metal. Channing made sure he frequented houses like this until the move was over to get the best stuff.

Just by the trash that a household threw out he could also tell you which houses had kids and which did not. He could tell you where there were only females living in the house, or only males.

Channing could tell which families were buying their food on food stamps and which ones were not. Who was trying to eat healthy, and who did not care. He knew where the alcoholics lived and where the drug users lived. He could tell you how many people lived in certain houses.

Some people did not care about throwing away paperwork with important information on it. Channing often saw what people paid for their electric, gas or water. He also saw doctor and hospital bills, trash bills, late notices, car repair invoices, insurance bills, pay check stubs, birthday cards, invitations, cash register receipts, and lots and lots of solicitations for credit cards.

Early in October Channing had taken advantage of a Friday teachers in service day, whatever that was, too Channing, it was just a day off, so he could go junkin early. He had taken a shower and was just putting away some clothes he had washed when there was a knock on the front door.

Channing opened the door and was surprised to find Nicole Harrison and several other girls, who Channing only new in passing, standing on his front porch.

"Nicole!" Channing blurted out.

"High Channing," Nicole said. "You haven't seen Hannah Stead, have you?"

"Hannah Stead?" Channing thought. "I am not sure I know her."

Nicole held up a picture printed on a regular piece of printer paper. It showed a red headed girl with curly hair that rested on her shoulders. Even though the picture was not the clearest, you could tell she had fair complexion and freckles. Printed on the page was the girl's name and who to contact if you had any information. Channing recognized the face, but would not have known her name if he had not been told.

"She goes to our school. She disappeared two days ago while she was walking home from the store. Her mom, dad and her brother are posting these flyers all over the neighborhood." Nicole said.

"Me, Destiny, and Layla are going door to door to see if anyone has seen her." Nicole continued.

"Would you like to join us?" She added.

" _Say yes! Say yes!"_

"Sure!" Channing answered maybe a little to quickly. The two girls with Nicole giggled.

Channing grabbed his coat, "Wait here a second." He said as he closed and locked the front door. A lot of the houses in this neighborhood only had one door that could be exited and locked from the outside. In his house this was the back door. Some houses had no doors that would lock, or the lock was easily defeated.

Channing grabbed his coat as he ran through the kitchen and shot out the back door locking it behind him. Running around the side of the house on the driveway he met the girls on the sidewalk and headed down the road.

They went door to door. Sometimes there was people home and sometimes there was not. If no one was home they would leave a flyer wedged in the door.

The houses up and down the streets on the west side of Columbus were a mixture of beautiful one and a half and two story houses with well kept lawns, and boarded up houses that haven't been homes in years. Most of the houses were some where in between gorgeous and abandoned.

Sometimes the doors were answered by kids Channing and Nicole had seen before. Sometimes the kids were in the same classes as them and they would spend some time talking to these kids. After someone answered the door, they would talk to them and ask if there were anyone else in the house that might have seen Hannah Stead.

They worked there way all the way up the east side of Terrace Avenue all the way to Sullivant Avenue. Turning east they were now within one block of the convenient store where Hannah Stead was last seen.

Channing and Nicole started south on the west side of Eureka Avenue while Destiny and Layla started south on the east side of Eureka Avenue.

It was getting onto seven o'clock as they walked down the street and went door to door talking to people about Hannah Stead. Channing and Nicole also talked about what was going on in school, what homework assignments they had, and what teachers they liked or disliked.

Channing had lost track of how far south of Sullivant Avenue they had come. They passed a boarded up house that had a fence around it all the way to the sidewalk. The next house looked occupied, but was not in much better shape. The grass was high and needed cut. The flowerbeds were now weed beds and several evergreens were now brown. An outside door on the side of the house off the driveway was partially ajar. They approached the house and walked up onto the front porch.

Channing and Nicole were both taken aback when they heard a very loud argument coming from inside. They could not make out all of the words but the venom was obvious.

It sounded like an older woman and a man was yelling at each other about something in the basement.

"Maybe we should go on to the next house?" Nicole said.

Channing thought for a moment. Max had always told him to follow his instincts, never second-guess yourself. And right now he had a distinct feeling that he wanted to talk to the people in this house.

As Nicole moved to the steps to leave, Channing stepped forward and knocked on the door.

Nicole was stunned, and the voices inside suddenly went silent.

"I have to talk to these people, I do not know why, but my instincts tell me to talk to them." Channing said.

When the door did not open in reasonable amount of time, Channing knocked even louder on the door.

The door suddenly flew open revealing and older woman in a very thick robe. "What the hell do you want?" She barked.

Nicole stayed away from the door and near the steps.

Channing starred right into the woman's eyes. He held up one of the fliers with Hannah Stead's picture on it. "We are looking for this girl and we are wandering if you have seen her?"

The lady glanced at the picture then back at Channing. "Never seen her." She said quickly, then began closing the door.

" _She is telling the truth, and lying? How can that be?"_

Maybe she is covering for someone, Channing thought.

"Excuse me." Channing said as he stepped even closer to the door. "Is there anyone else in the house that might have seen her?"

Channing could tell the woman wanted to close the door. She did not want to be talking to Channing. This convinced Channing even more that she was hiding something.

"There's no one else in this house!" The woman almost shouted as she started closing the door.

"What about the man standing behind you?" Channing asked.

The woman spun around. "I told you to stay away from the front door and windows. Are you crazy? Do you want the whole neighborhood to see you?"

She threw her hands up in exasperation and shoved by the man and headed towards the back of the house.

"Just what do you two want?" The man asked as he eyed Nicole. He was dressed in a pair old blue jeans and a tee shirt that looked like it had been slept in. He was about six foot tall, with a pot gut that spoke volumes about his love for beer. His hair was medium length and unkempt. It appeared he had not shaved in days.

Channing took another step towards the door and held up the flyer.

" _Watch how you word the question"_

"We are looking for this girl. Would you happen to know where she is?" Channing asked while watching the man closely.

He made a big show of looking over the flyer. He rubbed his chin and made sounds like he was really looking the picture over.

" _He knows where she is!"_

I know! Thought Channing actually getting scared for the first time.

"Well," the man said. "I don't think I have seen this girl around." He looked up from the picture and starred at Nicole. "But I sure would like to see more of her around!" The man laughed at his joke. "Today is my birthday darling. I plan to open a special present tonight when that bitch of a mother goes to bed." The man looked over his shoulder to make sure his mother was not within earshot. "Tell ya what," the man continued looking right at Nicole, "come on over about ten o'clock and you can join the fun!" The man really started laughing as he closed the door.

Channing grabbed Nicole's arm and just about pulled her down the steps to the sidewalk and then started running south. He didn't bother stopping at any other houses.

"Channing, where are you going, we are missing all these houses." Nicole said.

Channing slowed down but he did not stop. "I have got to get to a phone and call the police. Hannah Stead is in that man's house!"

Nicole grabbed Channing's arm and brought him to a stop. "How do you know." She said.

"I saw it in his eyes." Channing said. "I did not ask him if he had seen Hannah, I asked If he knew where she was. He said he did not. But his eye's said he was lying. I know he was lying. The 'Special Present' he was talking about is Hannah! Don't you see! He has Hannah but he hasn't hurt her yet. He was saving her for his birthday. It will be dark in an hour. I need to get to a phone."

"Destiny and Layla both have cell phones." Nicole said as she look to see if it was clear and ran across the street.

" _This may not be the best idea. We think we know where she is, but we have no proof."_

Channing and Nicole soon found Destiny and Layla coming out of another classmate's house.

Channing used Destiny's phone and called the police.

"Nine-one-one what is your emergency." A dispatcher answered.

"I know where Hannah Stead is." Channing said excitedly.

"Who is this?" The dispatcher asked.

"Channing Beck, I know where Hannah Stead is." He repeated.

"Have you seen her?" Asked the dispatcher.

Channing suddenly realized this call was premature. "Well, no, but...."

"So how do you know where she is?" Asked the dispatcher.

"See, I was talking to this guy and asked him if he knew where she was and he said no, but I know he was lying...."

"So now you are a walking talking lie detector?" Asked the dispatcher.

"Well, no, but...." Stammered Channing.

"Look Kid. We have countless leads to check up on. But we cannot just go arresting some guy because you think he is lying." Said the dispatcher.

" _You need to end this call before you get in trouble."_

"I am sorry. I did not think this through. I am sorry I bothered you." Said Channing.

The line went dead as the dispatcher hung up.

## Chapter Twenty-Seven

Channing knew he had to talk to Max. After saying goodbye to Nicole, he hurried to Max's house.

Channing had met and talked to Max's daughter numerous times over the last year. She answered the door with bad news. Max had been taken to the hospital with breathing problems.

Channing walked back to his clubhouse. Now what was he supposed to do. He knows Hannah is in that house. But what can he do about it.

It was going to be dark in less than an hour. What time does that lady in the house go to bed? When will that guy start his supposed party?

" _I suggest we go over to the house. On the driveway side of the house there were two windows to the basement. After it gets dark we might be able to see into the basement and see if Hannah is really there."_

"Then what?" Channing asked. "We tell the police we are a peeping tom as well as a walking talking lie detector!"

" _Maybe if we spot her in the basement we can distract the man from doing anything."_

"How?" Channing asked.

" _I don't know, maybe throw some stones through the basement window."_

"Maybe that would slow him down, but then what?"

" _I suppose then we keep throwing rocks until that guy comes outside and kicks the poop out of us!"_

"I do not want to wait to get the poop kicked out of me. I have got to come up with a plan!" Channing almost shouted the last part.

"A plan for what?" Nicole said as she stepped through the door to the clubhouse.

Channing jumped to his feet. "Nicole! What are you doing here?"

"Me and Layla are spending the night at Destiny's house." She said as she led the other two girls into the clubhouse.

"Who were you talking to?" She added.

"I sometimes think out loud, you can find a lot of flaws in a plan by expressing the plan out loud." Channing lied. "And what are you doing here, shouldn't you be at Destiny's house?"

"Destiny's parents own a bar on Wilson Road, they don't get home till, like, three in the morning." Nicole said. "So what plan are you working on?"

"Well," Channing began. "I thought maybe as soon as it gets dark, I would go over to that house on Eureka Avenue and try to look into the basement windows."

"You just going to walk up to the house and look in the basement windows?" Asked Destiny.

"Maybe he has an invisibility cloak." Joked Layla.

"Actually," Channing said. "I plan to approach the house from Sullivant Avenue. The house just to the north is vacant with a fence all the way around it, and the weeds are all grown up. I should be able to hide by the fence just fifteen feet from the basement windows."

"How do you know she is in the basement?" Asked Nicole.

"Do you remember when we walked up onto the porch? They were arguing about something in the basement." Channing said.

"If he makes any noise after the women goes to bed, she will be two floors above and probably would not hear it." He added.

"You won't be able to see in dirty basement windows from fifteen feet away, not with any detail." Layla said.

"Do you have binoculars?" Destiny asked.

"Good idea! I will be right back." Channing said as he bolted from the clubhouse and ran for his house.

## Chapter Twenty-Eight

A half an hour later, after picking up Destiny's little sister, Emma, who would not stay in the house alone after dark, the five kids were just north of the vacant house.

As they entered the fence of the vacant house, Channing noticed a light on in an upper room at the front of the house. They worked their way through the high weeds of the house with the fence until they were right next to the driveway of the house in question.

They could see several lights on in the house. One light was obviously the kitchen, as cupboards could be seen in the background. The light from the kitchen bled down a set of stairs to the door that opened onto the driveway. A person going down these stairs could open that door, and with another step down, be in the driveway. If they came down those same stairs and turned away from the door, there would be a set of steps that would go down to the basement.

The other light they could see was from a small window directly above the driveway door on the second floor. It appeared to be bleed over from one of the rooms into a hallway.

There were no lights shining through the basement windows.

"What are you going to do now?" Asked Destiny, a little too loud.

"SHHHH!" Channing said. "I plan to wait and see what happens."

He continued whispering. "If Hannah is there, she is in the basement. He has got to turn the light on sooner or later, and then we can see into the basement window."

" _You know, she may not be in the basement. We could go into that door on the driveway and explore the basement and they probably would never hear us. You have the small key-ring flashlight you use to light up the bottom of dumpsters."_

Let's just wait a while Channing thought.

After a half-hour the mosquitoes were eating the kids alive. Destiny, Layla and Emma left to go home. It was late in the season for mosquitoes, but Columbus had had a very mild autumn.

Channing tried to talk Nicole into going with them. It is not that he did not want to be with her, it is just that if anything happened he did not want her around. But she refused to go, telling Destiny that she would be at her house in a little bit.

After another hour, Channing and Nicole were whispering about calling off the stakeout when a shadow suddenly passed over the kitchen window. They both ducked down into the weeds farther.

A shuffling sound could be heard and then the lights came on in both basement windows.

Channing immediately used the binoculars to look into the windows.

The windows were very dirty. Although some details could be made out, they could only see things that were near the ceiling of the basement. If a person was sitting down they would not be able to see them.

"I need to get closer." Whispered Channing as he handed the binoculars to Nicole.

He stood up and climbed over the chain link fence as quietly as he could. Crouching down he jogged across the driveway to the basement window near the front of the house.

Kneeling down Channing looked into the window. There was not much to see, he did not see anyone in the area he was surveying. He saw a table that was loaded down with items, Christmas decorations, old dishes, an old pair of roller skates, a stack of newspapers, just a lot of junk. In the other areas that he could see there was just more stuff, an old exercise bike, a stack chairs, and more boxes stacked everywhere. He did not see any sign of Hannah.

Leaving this window he moved to the other window farther from the road near the back of the house. This window was just as dirty and had an old piece of rather thin curtain material covering the window on the inside. Even with this he could make out a lot of detail.

The first thing he noticed was a furnace. It sat in the middle of the room. The furnace sat up on a three-inch slab of concrete to keep it off the floor in case of a water line break.

Next to the furnace was a hot water tank. He scanned around the room which had walls framed in with two by fours but no sheet rock. This looked like someone started building individual rooms and then gave up before the project was complete.

Channing's heart nearly stopped when he looked straight down and saw Hannah Stead, she was looking straight at him.

She was strapped to an old recliner. Her arms and legs were clearly bound to the chair. The chair faced sideways to the window, but Hannah was looking up and over her shoulder directly at Channing. A piece of duct tape covered her mouth. She was fully clothed but her blouse was unbuttoned.

Suddenly her head jerked down and looked across the basement. Channing could see several feet approaching from another part of the basement.

He quickly moved to the side of the window and barley peeked in the corner of the dirty window.

The same man Channing and Nicole had seen at the front door approached Hannah. He had a glass that seemed to be filled with water, the glass had a straw sticking out of the top.

He held the glass down to Hannah's mouth and inserted the straw into a slit in the duct tape across her mouth. Channing could see her jaw moving as she sucked the liquid in.

The man was talking but Channing could not make out the words.

When the glass was empty the man pulled the straw out of Hannah's mouth and continued to talk.

Suddenly he leaned down and put his hand inside Hannah's blouse. Hannah squirmed and Channing could hear a muffled scream from behind the duct tape.

The man pulled his hand out and laughed. Still talking, he pointed to his left, when Channing looked to where the man was pointing he saw an old dirty mattress lying on the floor. Then he drew back and slapped Hannah across her face so hard Channing feared that it would kill the girl.

This infuriated Channing. He wanted to break the door down and charge down the basement and take his chances with the thug. He might have been smaller and lighter than this idiot, but, like Max would say, Channing's blood was up and he was sure he could give a good accounting of himself. The bottom line was that he wanted that dirty rotten thug to pay for what he was doing to Hannah.

As this was going through Channing mind, he did not notice the man had left the area around Hannah. He was caught by surprise as the lights in the basement suddenly went out.

Channing jumped up and ran across the driveway. He virtually dove over the fence landing on his side. Nearly landing on the sitting Nicole, he grabbed her and pulled her down flat to the ground and whispered, "Stay down, and don't move!"

The house door to the driveway flew open and the man stepped down into the driveway. He looked around like he had heard something. Suddenly from back by the garage two raccoon's began to fight. The noise they make is terrible. The man looked in the direction of the garage and then mumbles some profanities as he walked back into the house closing the door behind him.

Channing held Nicole's shoulder down and whispered. "Stay down, as still as possible."

Fifteen seconds later the door on the house flew open and the man walked out onto the driveway again. He looked up the driveway towards the road and back towards the garage. Giving the weeds where Channing and Nicole were hiding a cursory glance he mumbled more profanities about raccoon's and went back into the house.

When he got inside the door he slammed it shut in frustration. The women began shouting about slamming doors and the man started yelling back. Channing could not make out all of the words but they seem to fade to the middle of the house and then the voices could be heard on the second floor.

" _If you are going to do it, now is the time."_

"I know, I know." Said Channing.

"You know what?" Questioned Nicole.

"Just thinking about another plan." Stammered Channing.

"Channing, you need to talk to me and not yourself." Nicole said.

"Sorry, habit I guess." Channing apologized. "I saw Hannah, she is in the basement and tied up."

"Let's go call the police!" Nicole said.

"We can not." Channing whispered. "What am I supposed to do tell the police I am not only a lie detector but I am also a peeping tom?"

" _You really need to move on this. You know they are both upstairs, they are both awake and he will not come back to the basement again until that women goes to bed. It is now or never."_

"Look Nicole," Channing began, "I need you to move across the street and watch the front of the house. When you see the lights go out in the upstairs bedrooms just give me a signal, like short loud scream. Then hide behind a car in case he looks out a window."

"Would you do that for me?" He continued.

"What are you going to do?" Nicole asked suspiciously.

"I got a plan. I am going to move closer to the house and see if I can get a better look at the situation. But no matter what, once you cross the road, do not come back to this side or expose yourself to the man in that house no matter what happens." Channing paused and took Nicole's hand. "Promise me you will not come back to this side."

"What are you going to do?" Nicole repeated.

"Don't worry." Channing said. "I am going to try to ruin someone's birthday. But I have to do it now, I can not wait."

Channing stood up and pulled Nicole to her feet and started leading her to the front of the property. He handed his binoculars to her, "hold these."

He pushed her toward the gate. "Hurry I do not have much time! Remember, do not come back over here not matter what." Channing whispered loudly.

Nicole started to protest but Channing gave her a push and turned around started running back to the side of the house.

Nicole ran through the gate and approached the road. She was standing between two cars and waited until a car went down the road before she crossed.

After she reached the sidewalk she turned right, trying not to seem obvious in case the man, who scared her to death, was looking out of the window.

As she reached the point directly across from the man's driveway, she hid behind a van and looked through the windows towards the house. Nicole's heart stopped! Channing had crossed the driveway and was entering the house through the driveway door.

## Chapter Twenty-Nine

As Channing closed the door silently behind him, the light from the kitchen lit up the small landing just inside the driveway door. He could hear a TV playing somewhere in the house. He thought it was on the second floor because the sound seemed to be coming through the steps to the second floor right above his head.

He carefully looked as far down the stairs as the light would allow him. They seemed to be clear.

Channing had learned several things from Max about moving around silently. Like not stepping where everyone else steps.

" _Move, move, move!"_

Channing moved along the wall keeping his feet as close to the baseboard as he could without losing his balance.

Reaching the steps he began walking down the steps slowly keeping his feet to the outside of the steps. It looked like he just got off a horse and was bull legged.

Three steps down the worse thing Channing could imagine happened. He kicked something on the step. It fell to the next step down and then plummeted off the steps and landed on the basement floor with a splat.

At least it was not metal or glass. Channing thought. He thought quickly about turning around and leaving. Then he remembered that man hitting Hannah. No, he had to try no matter what.

Moving on down the stairs as rapidly as he could. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and listened carefully. He could hear a TV playing faintly, but he did not hear any footsteps on the stairs leading down from the second floor.

Turning to his right he turned right again and began walking right next to the stairs. Hannah should be almost straight ahead.

As he moved away from the now dim light coming from the kitchen Channing reached into he pocket and pulled out a small keying flashlight. Cupping his hand into a tube shape, and placing it over the end of the flashlight, Channing could shine the light in a tight beam without too much random light shining all over the place.

He shined the light on the floor to make sure he would not trip on anything. Moving parallel to the stairs he saw the hot water tank and the furnace on his left. He nearly tripped over the cement pad that held the furnace above the floor level. Apparently that pad had been made for a much bigger furnace in the past. Moving past that he noticed two by four studs set up like a wall, but they had no covering, they were open between studs.

The next thing Channing noticed was the object he had kicked off the stairs. It was a bottle of baby oil. It had landed on its side, but lid had cracked and it was leaking onto the floor slowly.

He continued to listen for sounds that would indicate the man was coming down the basement. Channing knew that at this point he would be sunk, only one way in and one way out of this basement. He knew he had to hurry. The only sound he heard was his own breathing, which seemed extraordinarily loud, and a faint whimpering sound, like someone is crying into a pillow.

He shinned the light ahead a little bit and saw Hannah still bound to the chair. Her eyes were as big a saucers and full of terror.

Channing rushed forward. "SHHHH, I am hear to help, try to be very quiet. We need to get you out of hear."

Channing ripped the duct tape that held Hannah's left arm. He thought of taking the tape off of her mouth but he was afraid she might start talking or crying.

He was reaching for the tape on her right arm when suddenly the lights in the basement came on.

Channing stood straight up and turned in the direction of the stairs.

The man came running down the stairs. Channing thought about hiding, but the game was up, he new that he had to face him.

The man turned the corner and saw Channing standing there.

Channing watched the man's eye closely, his only chance was to read him like a book.

The man's eyes told Channing that he was scared. He never expected to find someone in his basement. And now whoever this is knows he has a girl tied up down here.

"Well just look here at what I found. I found me a robber, come into my house thinking he was going to steal something of mine."

The man started walking slowly towards Channing.

What happened next could only be attributed to instinct, Channing does not remember thinking this out, it just happened.

"You rotten, dirty, perverted bastard." Channing began as he started walking towards the man.

The man, who had advanced just past the furnace, stopped dead in his tracks. This is just a kid, the man thought, and he is coming at me! What does he know that I don't.

Channing could see the fear in the man's eyes. "God reserves a special, extra hot place in hell for perverts like you!"

The man was stunned, how can this kid be talking so brave, does he have a gun.

Channing could see the confusion in the man's eyes. He had closed to within five feet of the man when he made his move. Reaching up and grabbing a metal gas line that fed the furnace. Channing swung his feet up and pulled his knees back to his chest. When his feet had swung up to the level of the man's chest he kicked out with both feet as hard as he could.

The man saw the kick coming at the last second and tried to move his shoulders and head backwards to avoid the kick. But this only made matters worse for him. Now he had moved his center of gravity behind him. When the kick landed solidly on his chest, his feet flew out from under him. The man landed head first on the concrete pad made for the furnace.

Channing swung back down and dropped to the floor expecting a fight on his hands with a man that was bigger and out weighed him by at least a hundred pounds.

But the man did not move. He lay on his back with his head up on the concrete slab. He made a sickening gurgling sound and then there was silence.

Channing then saw a lot of blood running from the back of the man's head to the floor.

"Oh my God I just killed him!" Channing began to shake. Then he thought about the man hitting Hannah, and about what the man had planned to do to Hannah tonight.

Slowly the shaking subsided and Channing started thinking again.

Two things brought Channing back to the present. The man's foot had kicked the baby oil bottle when he hit the ground, and a cordless phone had fallen out of the man's pocket, and was now lying on the floor.

Channing picked up the phone and hit the talk button. He was greeted with a dial tone. Then he almost panicked. Finger prints!

Looking around quickly he saw a bag with what looked like rags, they turned out to be tee shirts that were way too small for the man lying on the floor. Channing used one to wipe off the phone.

Channing then went back to where the man was lying. He picked up the baby oil bottle and hit the now cracked lid on the floor several times until it broke off and the oil came pouring out.

Lifting the man's legs by his shoe laces, Channing poured the oil on the floor. When the bottle was empty Channing laid the man's legs back on the floor right into the oil. Taking one leg at a time, he bent the leg at the knee and placed the bottom of the man's shoes into the oil.

Next he picked up the bottle of oil and wiped off his prints, then laid it back down in the mess on the floor.

Channing picked up the phone and stepped over the man, careful not to get any oil on his shoes. He went back to where Hannah was.

Even though she had one hand free, she was in too much shock to try to take off the other restraints.

Channing knelt down by the chair Hannah was strapped to. He looked in her eye and could not believe what he saw. Total terror. Hannah was defiantly in a state of shock. "Look." He said. "I can not take you out of here. But the man is dead and will not hurt you. Do you understand."

Hannah nodded her head.

"I am going to remove the tape on your mouth, but you have to promise me you will not scream or make a loud noise. OK?"

Again Hannah nodded.

Channing peeled the tape off of Hannah's mouth but let it hang on her cheek.

"Can you talk?" Channing asked.

Hannah nodded, then said in a crackling and weak voice. "Yes."

"OK, listen. You do not want to leave this chair until the police get hear. Understand?" Channing said.

Hannah nodded, then said, "Yes."

"I am going to call the police and hand the phone to you. You need to tell them your name, and tell them you are trapped in a basement. Got it?" Channing said.

"Yes." Replied Hannah. "But, but, how will they find me?"

"When you dial 911, your address automatically appears on a screen at the police station." Then Channing wiped the phone off one last time, he then used the end of the rag to dial 911. He handed the phone to Hannah.

Channing backed away from the chair, but he had to make sure Hannah would say the right things.

There was a pause and then Hannah said, "I'm tied up in a basement my name is Hannah Stead please help me." Then she began to cry.

Channing moved to the stairs and could hear Hannah talking on the phone as he moved up the stairs. He knew there was someone else in the house and he still wanted to remain as silent as possible.

Channing made it to the landing and slipped out of the door, leaving it wide open.

Running down the driveway he raced across Eureka Avenue without even looking to see if a car was coming.

He could hear sirens in the distance, and they were getting closer.

"Nicole!" he shouted.

Nicole nearly bowled him over with a hug. She had appeared from behind a van. "Why did you go in that house? Are you crazy? Channing! You are shaking like a leaf!"

The sirens were getting closer and Channing could see police lights approaching.

He grabbed Nicole by the arm and started pulling her to the side of a house. "We have to hide. Come on." He said.

They ran up the side of a house to a chain link fence. Letting themselves through the gate they crouched down as the first police car pulled into the driveway across the road.

"Is Hannah OK?" Asked Nicole.

"She will be. The man slipped on some oil on the basement floor and knocked himself out, or he might be dead. But Hannah will be OK." Channing said.

"Why are you shaking so much." Nicole asked.

Channing took her hand. "A lot of things happened in that basement, scary things. Do me a favor, do not tell anyone that I was in that house until we find out if Hannah is going to be OK."

"If that is what you want." Nicole replied.

The police were swarming around the house now. Channing saw several officers go into the driveway door he had left open. Several minutes later one of them came out of the door carrying Hannah in his arms.

Channing took Nicole's hand. "We are done here. Let's get you over to Destiny's house for that sleepover."

## Chapter Thirty

Channing slept very little that night. He kept waiting for the police to knock on his door. He heard his mom come home about eleven and fainted sleep when she came into his room to kiss him goodnight.

He was still awake at eight o'clock the next morning when his mom left for her first job.

The knock on his door finally came at nine o'clock in the morning. Channing had finally fallen asleep from shear exhaustion and the knock woke him up.

Fearing the worst he opened the front door to find Nicole standing there. She threw herself into his arms.

"Did you hear on the news?" She said excitedly. "Hannah's going to be OK. And the man, I forget his name, is going to be indited for kidnapping and a bunch of other stuff."

"Don't you realize what this means?" Nicole continued. You're a hero. You saved Hannah."

"Look Nicole." Channing began. "You are the only one who knows I went into that house. Did you tell anyone else about me going into the house?"

"No." Nicole said. "Last night you were shaking so bad you scared me to death. And you asked me not to tell anyone."

"It may seem like hero stuff." Channing began. "But if the police find out I was in that house they could arrest me for breaking and entering."

"Anyway," Channing continued, "when I left that house last night, I thought for sure that I had killed that man. It is not a good feeling, even if the man deserved it. I would like to keep my part of this story quiet if I can."

Channing took Nicole up to his bedroom where he showed her his book report he was working on. He lay down on the bed while she read the report on the computer. He immediately fell asleep.

Nicole decided the spell checker on this program he was using worked pretty well, but he did need some help with his syntax. While he slept she worked on his report.

After about an hour, there was a terrible commotion in the kitchen downstairs.

Nicole, scared to death immediately woke Channing. "Channing, Channing, someone is in your house!"

Channing was immediately up and awake. He listened to the silence for a second and then he heard the noise. It sounded like someone was struggling with something in the kitchen.

Channing jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs. He turned quickly at the bottom of the stairs and rushed into the kitchen.

There stood his mom and dad, setting bags of groceries on the table.

"Mom, Dad!" Channing stammered.

"Channing," his Dad began, "I need to talk to you." He set some groceries on the table and started walking towards Channing. He was ringing his hands and his head was down. "I know I have made your life a little difficult this last year. And for that I am truly sorry." He paused for a moment. "I have been drunk to often, and many times when you needed me." Again he paused and Channing who was looking at his eyes saw them tear up. "I am sorry for all the time I was not there when you needed me, but I love you so much and I hope you will accept my apology." Tears were streaming down his cheeks. "I promise...."

He never finished the sentence as Channing rushed across the kitchen, threw his arms around his dad and started crying.

After several minutes of hugging and crying, Channing's dad lifted Channing's face up and said: "They are finally opening that office in Columbus, I am home to stay. And in a year or so we can buy a house back in our old neighborhood."

"No!" Channing nearly shouted. "We can't move! I want to stay in this neighborhood. My school is here, my work is here and my girlfriend is here."

"Work?" His father asked.

"Girlfriend?" His mother said at the same time.

Channing stepped back from his parents. "I have been junkin these alleys around this neighborhood and I have more than four thousand dollars saved upstairs. I was going to save it for a car, but I think I will need it more when I go to college. I think we all need to sit down and talk about what has happened in the last year, and especially what happened last night."

"What happened last night?" Both his parents said together.

"I will explain everything in just a moment." He turned towards the doorway to the living room. "Nicole, it is alright come on in."

Nicole came around the corner, her hands folded in front of her down low, and her head slightly down.

"Channing!" His mother began, "you are not...."

"I know, Mom, I know. But Nicole is here on a special mission. But I need you to sit down, because I have a lot of explaining to do." He paused and began walking to the living room. "And no she is not pregnant." Channing added.

## Chapter Thirty-One

Two weeks later Channing was pulling a garden wagon he had found and restored down the alley towards his clubhouse. He had not used Max's truck since Max had gone into the hospital.

As he walked home he thought about the fact that he had not heard 'Voice' since that night at the house that had Hannah Stead in it. Well, he thought, I really do not need voice anymore. This made Channing happy, like he had graduated to the next level.

He continued to wonder about the reality of voice. Could it have been his subconscious, or maybe it was like having an imaginary friend, like when he was five. He had to admit it sure helped while just being a voice in his head.

As he pulled the wagon through the gate at the back of his yard he notice his lock he had put on his clubhouse was gone and the door hung partially open. Channing thought for sure that he had locked it before he went to Greentree's.

He opened the door all the way and was surprised to see Max sitting in a lawn chair.

"Max!" Channing nearly yelled.

"Well, well, well," the familiar gravely voice said. "The proverbial hero returns." Max held up a small piece of wire and said, "Ya needs a better lock. Reminds me ta teach ya a trick or two wit locks."

"What...." Stammered Channing. "Hero?"

"Blows it out yer ear Channing, I knows what happened two weeks ago. I got ta full story from Nicole." Max Said. "Pretty girl too."

"Nicole?" Channing stammered again.

"I know'd you been seeing that Harrison girl. I know'd old man Harrison for years. I ain't talking bout her old man, talkin bout her grandfather. Pretty good people, use to do electrical work round the neighborhood."

"Anyways," he continued. "I checked myself out da hospital when I heard rumors about the night they found that Hannah girl. So's I went and paid Nicole a visit. She be babysitting her brothers and sisters and I got her out on da porch and she spilled da beans about the house on Eureka."

Channing was looking right at Max's eye and knew he was telling the truth.

"I asked her not to tell anyone about that." Channing said.

"Not really her fault, you be looking at a man who could talk a pacifier from a baby." Max said and started laughing.

"But ta make a long story longer, I took myself down to the chief of police's office and had me a conversation with him. Seems they be looking fer another fellow that might have been in the basement that night. Seems something did not add up." Max paused.

He rubbed his chin like he was in deep thought. "Ya see, from the girl they got this story of a guardian angle saving her. Got a purty fair description too. Also, the man they arrested said someone brought the girl into his house, and when he heard them down the basement he confronted him and the man beat him up and fled. Another description, and it matched de girls good. See da problem be, dis man had fallen on his back and cracked his head wide open. Now there be oil on da floor, so da man be a clutz. But he also has these three broken ribs with bruising on the chest that has dis distinct pattern of tennis shoes. This be a puzzle."

"Me and the Chief agreed about not wanting to muddy the waters by bringing someone inta this mess that could point fingers at da police and say I told ya, I called ya on da phone and told ya where this girl be, but ya didn't believe me."

"So's the Chief talks to da prosecutor, an the prosecutor talks to da man and says here be your choices. Ya be a parole violator wit three prior molestation charges on top of kidnapping, ya want ta go ta trial, I be asking for the death penalty. Plead guilty ta current filed charges I be asking for life with no parole. Da mans doing life, there be no trial. The phantom of the basement will remain just that, a phantom."

Channing let this sink in for a couple of seconds and then realized just what Max had done. He ran across the small shed and threw his arms around him. "Thanks Max, you are the best."

"Now don't you be spredin no rumors bout me, wouldn't be good for my image." Then he started laughing. Max loved to laugh.

