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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1308044-Sweetness-Follows
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1308044
A desperate and lonely man kidnaps a little boy.
         “Hey kid, hey, over here.” The young boy was picking a few remaining flowers from a neighbor’s garden. When his mother arrived home, he was going to run up to her, a big smile wiped across his face and hand them off, giggling with joy. Today, however, he would not get that chance.


         The man was across the street, standing by a silver SUV. He wore glasses and a brown, tweed coat. As the boy looked up at him, the man once again spoke. “Over here kid, I’ve got something for you.” The boy had heard his mother say many times, over and over again, “Don’t talk to strangers, Danny” but this man seemed kind. He certainly looked harmless enough, and so, with no reluctance at all, Danny ran across the street to the man in the tweed coat. The man hunched down to Danny’s level and held out a package. The boy tore through it, frantically ripping to get to whatever hid beneath the paper. What he found was a Power Rangers action figure, the white ranger to be exact, his absolute favorite. “Wow, thanks!” he said. The man patted Danny on the head, then, casually glanced down both sides of the street. “How would you like to come get a milkshake with me bud?” the man said. The boy stood in awe staring at his new toy, complete attention averted from the man that had given him his new present.


         “What’s your name pal?” the man asked, this time with a touch of desperation in his voice. Danny was still not paying attention; his gaze was fixated on the white power ranger. Once again the man lifted his gaze and looked down both sides of the street, and then spoke. “Hey kid, I’ve got more of those at my house. If you’d like I can take you there, you can have all the action figures you want.”


         It was then that the boy lifted his gaze, his eyebrows raised in childish fascination, a smile creased through his lips. “That sounds great mister. Do you live far? My mommy wants me home before dinner.”


         “That’s no problem bud; I live very close, only a short drive. I’ll have you home for dinner.” The boy cheered and ran around the side of the car, pulling on the handle to the door, each time being denied by the lock on the inside. On the other side of the car, the man took one more look around, scanning his surroundings with meticulous care. Then, he unlocked the car doors and the little boy jumped into the SUV. Danny’s excitement was familiar to the man, and he watched with a longing eye, studying the way the youngster looked about the car, similar to the way his own used to.


         It was almost a year now, a year ago when a forty year old man, a man close to his own age, came rolling by his son’s school. Outside, the young boy was waiting for his father, eagerly awaiting the ride home where his father would ask him about his day and what he had just learned, information that he could surprise his father with and make oh so proud. The man pulled up alongside the boy and lured him into the car similar to the way he had just done to this little one carrying flowers for his mother. His son, the young boy named Michael, a smart child, a kind child, willingly leapt into the man’s car and drove off with him. That was the last time anyone had seen Michael alive. He was found a month after capture, in a small drainage ditch outside of town, his limbs bound, and his mouth gagged. He had been sexually abused, and after his captor was finished with him, he shot him and threw him into that ditch. Another month later, the man was caught driving through a neighboring state. He was tried and executed the following month, a speedy resolution to a terrible crime. Michael’s father, a man of the name Michael himself was scarred from the scenario. His wife left him soon after, claiming Michael had become too much of a wreck when she also needed his support. She had left him a single man, a man whose son had just been brutally murdered. And now, here he was kidnapping a young boy himself.


         His intentions, however, were far different from those of the bastard that had kidnapped his son a year ago. Michael was going to take this boy home, and treat him exactly as he had treated his son, with the best of care and most love he could muster. The truth was that Michael was lonely. He was already contemplating ending his life, as for so long he had had no one. His parents were dead, and his ex-wife never came around or called to see how he was doing, and so, Michael was left alone to brood within his tortured mind. One could not be surprised; he committed a radical act, as lonely men often do, a temporary solution to a lashing of the mind that would never end. And so, when he arrived home with the little boy he immediately brought to him the other power rangers action figures, the one’s that had been his son’s. Then, while the boy was already pre-occupied, he ordered a pizza, a boy’s favorite meal. When they sat down to eat, Michael finally discovered the boy’s name. “Danny” he said, with a cute little smile. They continued to eat their pizza, folding each slice like a blanket and stuffing it into their mouths, laughing and talking as Michael had once done with his son so long ago, or so it felt. Michael sat staring at the little boy across from him. His hope’s had finally been answered, and his emotions were lifting just like the sun from behind a cloud. He may have been a lousy husband, but a lousy father he was not. He loved Michael Jr. with all of his heart, and promised himself that he would never hit or strike the boy. Years ago Michael’s own father had done such things to him. To this day he was often haunted by his father’s constant disappointment, and when his father was disappointed, he would beat Michael to a pulp, and Michael would cry and cry, pleading for his father to stop. Despite his entire childhood trauma, Michael turned out to be a fine man, a man with a steady job, a wife, a child. The future was looking bright for Michael, and he couldn’t be happier, that was until a man had kidnapped and killed his son….


         “Are you ok Michael?” Danny asked.


         A tear was flowing down Michael’s cheek, and he immediately wiped it away.


         “Yea, I’m fine Danny, thanks for asking. Are you finished with your dinner? Do you want to go and watch some TV?”


         And so, Michael cleaned up the plates and glasses and stored them in the dish washer, then, together, Danny and Michael sat down to watch the television. While eating dinner, Danny had told Michael that his father had died only a few days after Danny was born, from a heart attack. He was only forty three, and left behind an unemployed widow. “She’s very lonely” Danny said. “Maybe you and her could get married, Michael, and then she’d be happy and have a husband, and you’d be happy too! She’s very beautiful, Michael.” Michael chuckled and pulled Danny close. Danny immediately took to laying his head on Michael’s chest. That’s the way children often were. It didn’t take long for a child to warm up to an adult, especially one as affectionate and longing as Michael was. Danny sensed Michael’s longing for a son, and easily, Michael sensed Danny’s longing for a father. The two were a perfect match.


         After watching television, Michael took Danny up to Michael Junior’s room. It was freshly made and kept clean; awaiting the day its empty void would be filled once again with the light sounds of a child sleeping, or the laughing of a child playing calmly to oneself. Not once the whole night did Danny utter a word about his mother or his having to be home for dinner. He was smiling and holding Michael’s hand, looking at the bed. Michael took the flowers that Danny was still carrying and placed them on the table next to the bed. Then, he picked up the small boy and placed him on the bed.


         “Do you want me to read to you or anything?”


         Danny looked around the room and then smiled at Michael.


         “No, that’s ok Michael, I’ll just go to bed. I’m tired.”


         Michael smiled back and began to get up, but before he could stretch his knees Danny leaned off the bed and hugged him. Michael hugged back, reluctantly. Then, he began to hug Danny harder, with more affection.


         “Goodnight Danny, sleep well.”


         “Goodnight Michael, thanks.”


Michael got up and walked towards the door. He turned around and looked at Danny, lying there peacefully, gazing at the ceiling. Then, he turned off the lights, and walked out of the room.


A few days later

         There came a banging on the door and the sounds of men yelling. Michael awoke in a quick jump, sweat pouring from his brow. He jumped out of bed and ran over to the window, then, with a deep breath he opened one of the blinds of the window.


         The flashing of red and blue lights came peering through. As Michael scanned the outside, he saw at least ten police cars, two officers per car, hands on their sides, gripping their guns calmly. An officer with a megaphone stood next to the lead car, the megaphone at his side, his other hand holding binoculars, scanning the window’s of the home. When the officer reached the window Michael was peering out of, he dropped the binoculars and pulled the megaphone to his mouth.


         “Come out with your hands up! We have the whole house surrounded, you have nowhere to go!”


         Michael fell backwards onto the floor, his body shaking heavily. He got up and ran out of his room, down the hall to where Danny was sleeping in Michael Junior’s old bedroom. Opening the door, he peered in on the boy, sleeping quietly beneath the covers.


         There was the boy he had spent the past three days with, from morning to night. The first day together they had gone to the zoo and watched the animals dance about their cages, growling and howling as tourists walked by. Danny had been fascinated with all the animals, even going so far as to try and crawl into one of the cages. Luckily, Michael had grabbed him before he got too far.


         There was the boy he had gone for a hike with at the local state park. Michael and Danny held hands as they walked down the trail covered with autumn leaves, fallen from their trees. Several times, Danny would run to the side of the trail where the lake lapped against the dirt shores, watching the water’s soothing rhythm, standing in awe at nature’s beautiful product.


         There was the boy that had wanted to go see a movie, the same boy that had requested popcorn only to spill it all over he and Michael when they sat down in the theater. Instead of getting angry, Michael simply chuckled and pulled the boy close to him, and Danny, knowing that he wasn’t going to be yelled at smiled and laid his head upon Michael’s shoulder.


         Michael rushed into the room and woke Danny from his sleep. He hushed him immediately when Danny began to ask questions.


         “We have to leave pal, we have to go somewhere just for a little while. The house isn’t safe anymore.”


         Danny stared at Michael with cautious and wondering eyes. Then smiling, he whispered “ok”. Danny grabbed a shirt and pair of pants from the dresser and put them on. Then, careful to not forget, he grabbed the flowers that were now in a small vase from the dresser. Hand in hand, they ran down the stairs, then, when they had reached the bottom they put on their coats and Michael kneeled to Danny’s level.


         “Ok, now listen bud, we’re going to go out the back door, very quietly. Don’t make a sound Danny or otherwise we’ll be in trouble, do you understand?”


         The little boy shook his head yes and gave another smile. Michael smiled back, patting the boy on the head. He grabbed his hand and together they walked with slow and quiet footsteps to the back door. Michael unhooked the latch and quickly peered out the window. The air was frigid, and autumn leaves danced around the back yard like fans at a football game, cheering them on. “Ok, Danny, let’s go”. They stepped out of the house and began walking across the lawn. Suddenly, a man with a large gun came walking from the side of the house.


         “STOP! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!” he yelled.


         “Wait, wait! Don’t shoot, everything’s ok, my son and I are just leaving.”


         “SHUT UP AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!” the man with the gun yelled again.


         This time, before Michael could answer, ten more men with guns came running to the back yard, followed by a man with a megaphone and a woman with long, blonde hair. That must be his mother, Michael thought. She was beautiful, just like Danny had said; her face was like that of an angel’s.


         “Mommy!” yelled Danny.


         “Danny! Hold on sweetie, we’re going to get you!”


         “Mommy! This is Michael, he’s a nice man, and he’s my new daddy!”


         The woman across from them began to cry, and then she yelled something back.


         “Just hold on hunny, we’re going to get you!”


         Michael still held onto Danny’s left hand. In his right was the vase with the flowers. In his childish excitement, Danny broke away from Michael’s hand, running towards the man with the megaphone and Danny’s mother. Michael chased after him, putting his hands out to catch the boy back. CRACK! Michael dropped to the ground, his eyes bulging from his sockets. “Aghh God!” he cried out. Danny stopped suddenly and turned back, “Daddy!” He ran back to Michael and dropped to his knees. Blood was flowing from Michael’s chest, and he began to sputter it from his mouth.


         “Danny…. Danny listen to me. You have given me back a taste for life. Without you I don’t think I would’ve…. Would’ve stayed around much longer.”


         Danny was sobbing on top of Michael; his usual smile disappeared in a flood of tears.


         “Don’t cry pal…. Everything’s going to be ok. You’ll be with your mother again…. It was wrong what I did, to take you from her.”


         Another sputter of blood escaped Michael’s mouth, and then, with a sigh he rolled to his side.


         “I…. I love you Danny. Be a good boy, make your mother proud.”


         “No! No, Michael please don’t… daddy please don’t!”


         With his last breath Michael put out an arm. He patted Danny softly on the head, then, his hand dropped to the ground, and Michael was gone.


         The officers ran to the young boy, picking him up and carrying him off crying. When he saw his mother he reached out for her, pulling her close. They were both sobbing greatly, embracing one another as the cold wrapped it’s dead fingers around their bodies and the warmth of their love battled them away. Danny’s mother put him down to the ground, then, with a tearful smile Danny handed her the flowers.          


         “I picked these for you mommy, do you like them?”


         “They’re beautiful, hunny.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek, then pulled him close to her once again.



An few hours later

         “Danny, all we’re asking is that you tell us what happened…. How did Michael treat you? Was he kind to you, did he ever…. Hurt you?”


         Danny sat, his arms crossed, a look of discontent painted on his face.


         “Come on hunny, help the officers, that’s all they’re trying to do, is help. Did that man hurt you ever, did that…. That man ever hurt you!?”


         Danny looked to his side, at his mother, and shook his head.


         “Oh, Danny, would you please just say something.”


         “You killed him!” Danny screamed. “You killed Michael, you killed my daddy. You killed him!”


         “Hunny, he wasn’t your—“


         “He was the closest thing to it! He always gave me dinner and tucked me in at night. He took me to the zoo, and the park, and the movies. He talked to me and we laughed. He did so much for me!”


         The two officers looked at each other, and then looked at Danny’s mother, who was tearing slightly.


         “Sometimes kidnap victims begin to feel a kind of love or admiration for their captors, especially in the case of young children. What Danny is feeling is generally normal, unless he was…. Well, abused in some way.”


         Danny’s mother started to sob.


         “Danny, hunny, please tell mommy, did that man, Michael, did he hurt you in anyway?”


         Danny was looking down. Then, he wiped his face and raised his head, tears falling from his eyes, and gazed right into the eyes of his mother.


         “No mommy, Michael never hurt me. He was a good man, and a good daddy, he was just lonely, that’s all, he was lonely just like you, mommy, that’s all.”


         Danny’s mother looked at him with tearful eyes, her breathing becoming more labored. She remembered the day that she saw him first, standing at the edge of his lawn, picking flowers for his mother that was yet to come home. She remembered feeling a tremendous fear, and sweating profusely. Her body was shaking and her thoughts were fluttering about her mind like stray butterflies in the spring air. You were lonely…. how can you blame yourself!? She had pulled her van alongside Danny, and in a quick flash, she picked him up and threw him in. He was younger then, three years old to be exact. He didn’t cry or struggle once; instead, he complied and went with the unknown woman. After all, she seemed harmless enough, even to a toddler. And so, for two years Danny had lived with this woman, and she grew to be his mother, just as Michael had grown to be Danny’s father.


         They were two forlorn and desperate people, she and Michael. They had lost all that they had loved and cherished in the world. They were people bereft of any kind of hope, except for a small child named Danny, a child that rekindled their love for life. How could she condemn a man that had done the same as she? It seems that it is often easy for one to lay blame upon another, as human fate would show; our judgments are often surface deep. And so it appeared to her, as clear as the morning sky, that sweetness follows even after the most turbulent times have passed, that redemption is only a step away, and with hope, even the darkest of storms can be pushed far, far away.
© Copyright 2007 Bill Lockhart (billy147 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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