“Hell, yes, I am.”
Zack relayed Brian’s reply then hung up after telling Zip he’d be back in touch with details.
“Of course,” Brian said, scrubbing his forehead, “I’ll have to find a couple of counselors willing to supervise at night.”
“Nope. Dallas and I can do that. It’s not like we’re in any shape yet to get back out there doing our vigilante thing.”
“And won’t be for a while,” Dallas added, shooting Zack a hard look.
Brian chuckled. “Knowing Zack, he wants to be out there before the week is up.”
“No shit, but it’s not happening. And that is doctor’s orders, not mine.”
“I know,” Zack said gloomily. “At least we can be useful at the building in the interim.”
“You’ll survive,” Brian replied, reaching over to pat his knee.
“Yeah, I know.” Suddenly Zack had an idea. One he would put forward to Dallas after they left. He knew if he said anything in front of Brian, he’d get a lecture and a half about it, and why he was even planning such a thing to begin with.
After Brian offered them beers—that they accepted—Zack asked, “Exactly what needs doing on the building, Brian, that the kids will be able to handle?”
The three men spent some time making detailed plans on how to proceed with the painting and other minor things within the scope of the kids’ abilities. Then they chatted for a few minutes more before Brian told Zack and Dallas in no uncertain terms that they should go home and get some sleep.
“You’ll need it,” he said with a laugh. “Supervising a dozen kids is not the easiest thing you’ve ever done. Trust me on this one.”
* * * *
“I don’t see why not,” Dallas said as they drove home from Brian’s place. “The problem is that we’re in no shape to do it.”
“What they need is training on the finer points of attack and defense. They know the basics just from trying to stay safe out there.” Zack tapped his lip pensively. “I know a man who might be willing to teach them, if he’s still around. It’s been a few years since I last saw him.”
Dallas cocked an eyebrow. “An ex-client?”
“Nope. A guy who showed me a thing or two, back when I was on the streets.”
“Damn, Zack, that was over twenty years ago. He could be dead and gone by now.”
“I’m still here and he was only a few years older than me.” Zack took out his phone as they talked. “He used to hang around at Spars.”
“And you think someone will remember him now?”
“Worth a shot.” Zack punched in the number for the gym. When the call was answered, he asked if the owner was around.
After a moment on hold, a man said, “Jim here. Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for an old friend I’ve lost track of, Nate Brown. I know he used to work out there sometimes.”
After a pause, Jim replied, “Name rings a bell. If he’s who I’m thinking of, he started his own gym, Rattlers he calls it, because that was his street name. It’s up north of the city.”
“That’s him. Thanks.”
“No problem. If you find him, tell him I said hello.”
“Will do.” Zack hung up then looked up Rattlers. “Feel like taking the long way home?”
“How long?” When Zack gave him the address, Dallas nodded. “I know right where it is. Mike took me up there once to work off some steam after a really bad night. The guy who owns it was there. Talk about one bad motherfucker. I bet he could take on Arreola and win.”
“Sure, if you say so.”
Dallas laughed. “You have no clue, do you?”
“I’d guess he’s a boxer, and you know I’m not a boxing fan. I didn’t know you were, though.”
“Not really, but some of the guys are, so I pick up on things.”
They bantered a bit about various sports neither of them really cared about until they arrived at the gym. Zack picked up on a few pitying glances when they went inside. It didn’t surprise him since he and Dallas still looked like the walking wounded with him on crutches and Dallas wearing a cast.
When he got to a counter at one side of the gym, Zack asked the guy manning it, “Is Nate around?”
“Maybe. Who wants to know?”
“Tell him Zack’s looking for him.”
“You found him,” a booming voice said from behind Zack and Dallas.
Zack turned and was engulfed in a bear hug that made him drop his crutches. Then the man released him, looking him over from head to toe.
“Who the hell did you run into? I thought I taught you better than to end up looking like you went a few rounds with a kangaroo.” Nate picked up the crutches then handed them to Zack. “Who’s your friend?” He turned to Dallas. “You in the same fight?”
“I was. I’m Dallas.”
“Dallas, Dallas. Yeah, I sorta remember you. You were here with Mike once. You’re not bad”—Nate tapped Dallas’ cast—“but not perfect either. “So, Zack, what happened and why are you here?”
“We need your help, if you’re willing. And not against the punks we ran into. They’re already taken care of.”
“Hope they look worse than you two. Come on. Let’s go into my office.”
Zack and Dallas followed him into a large room that obviously served as both an office and a place to store extra equipment. Once they were all seated around the desk on one side of the room, Zack told Nate a bit about what had gone on in his life since they’d been together twenty years ago.
“So,” Nate said, grinning. “You’re the infamous Reaper. I’m proud of you, kid.” He ran a hand over his short, graying hair. “So how can I help?”
“I have some kids… Not mine,” Zack added when he realized how that could be taken. “Homeless teens who I think could step in and take over for me, if they get some training. They’re pretty good at defending themselves, but that’s different from going after the kind of punks who prey on street kids.”
Nate tapped his fingers together. “How many and how old?”
“Right now, three. Two guys and a girl. All in their late teens.”
“A girl?”
“Come on, Nate,” Dallas said, “don’t be chauvinistic. Girls can fight just as well as guys.”
“Hell, I know that. My old lady can handle half the men who work out here. I take it these kids know you as Reaper,” Nate said.
“Reaper and Wrath,” Zack replied with a nod to Dallas. “A few others know too, and they’re keeping it on the QT.”
“Okay. So, when do you want to do this?”
“That depends. I could bring them here, of course.”
“But? It sounds like there is one.”
“The three of them are going to be helping out, along with some of their friends, painting and such, at the new home for Off-the-Street.”
“Yeah, I heard they have to move the shelter. So you were hoping I could come down there to teach them?”
“If you’re willing. I know it’s asking a lot.”
“Hell, kid. For you, I’ll do it.”
Dallas chortled. “He’s hardly a kid anymore.”
“Yeah, well to me that’s what he’ll always be. The kid I taught to defend himself better than he had been. Not that he was a slouch at it, but…” He patted Zack’s shoulder. “Now the kid is all grown up and dealing out some hurt to those who deserve it. I like that idea. When do you want me down there?”
“Tomorrow evening?”
“You got it. Just tell me where.”
Zack gave him the address before asking Nate, “So what’s new with you these days?”
Nate told him the latest, especially about his wife and family.
Finally, realizing it was getting late, Zack suggested it was time to get home. He and Dallas left with Nate’s promise that he’d see them the next night at the building.
* * * *
“Holy shit, that dude is scary,” Zip said when he came up from the basement of the new Off-the-Street.
He, Colly, Raven and a fourth teen Zip had recruited, who called himself Sway, were working with Nate on their fighting skills.
“I know,” Reaper replied. “I told you he’s the one who taught me, way back when. You look like you’re surviving, though.”
“Yeah. Am. He sent me up for”—Zip hurried over to the large cooler by counter to grab five bottles of water—“these.” Seconds later, he vanished down the stairs again.
Chuckling, Reaper went back to what he was doing—supervising a team of teens who were painting the walls on the first floor. “And the floors and themselves,” he grumbled before reminding them that there was only so much paint available, so they should be a bit less enthusiastic when wielding the rollers and brushes.
It was close to midnight when he called a halt for the night. Wrath came downstairs, followed by half a dozen teens, to announce that all the rooms on the third floor were finished. Admittedly, a quarter of them, plus those on the second floor, had already been painted when he and Reaper had arrived around six to take over from the counselors and kids who had been working during the day.
“Who’s up for pizza before crashing for the night?” Reaper asked the gathered throng.
“Who isn’t would probably be the right question,” Nate said, as he and his trainees joined the group.
Reaper counted heads then called a pizza delivery chain to order enough pizzas that the guy who answered the phone asked if this was some kind of prank. Reaper assured him it wasn’t, and gave him his credit card number to prove it. Aside from the pizzas, Reaper ordered drinks and asked for napkins and paper plates as well.
While they waited, Wrath suggested the kids clean up. Some of them grabbed their backpacks from where they’d left them, heading up to the bathrooms. Others went to use the kitchen sinks.
“So how did it go?” Reaper asked Nate, now that they were alone for a moment.
“You’ve got a good team. Raven…” Nate grinned. “You wouldn’t think it to look at her but she held her own when I had them working in pairs against each other.”
“Figured she would. What about Sway? He’s one I never ran into.”
“He’s got the brawn. He just has to learn a bit more self-control. I told them we should get together a couple more times to practice what I showed them. Okay if we do that here tomorrow night?”
“As far as I know, it is. I’ll call Brian in the morning, just to be certain. Since the painting is all but finished, I think carpeting is next on the list then he’ll start moving everything over from the old building.”
A loud banging on the front door, plus a few of the teens coming back into the room, put an end to their conversation. Nate let the pizza deliveryman in, then he sent Zip and Colly out to help him bring in the order. They spread the boxes out on the new admitting counter and soon all the kids were sitting on the floor to eat while Reaper, Wrath and Nate used the counter as their table.
When everyone was finished and the garbage collected into a large trash bag, Reaper said, “We’re leaving now. I know all of you will behave. Right?” He got loud assents from all the teens. “Do not open the door to anyone, and that includes friends. Got that?” Again, he got cries of agreement.
“Okay, everyone. Upstairs,” Wrath said.
At his order, the kids grabbed their backpacks and headed to the second floor. When they were out of earshot, he asked, “You sure it’s safe to leave them here on their own?”
Nate and Reaper both nodded. Nate said, “They know this place is important for them and for every other kid out on the streets. None of them will do anything stupid. Besides…” He grinned. “My team will make damn good and sure no one misbehaves.”
“Your team?” Reaper chuckled.
“Yeah. They tagged themselves The R&W Rattlers.”
Wrath snorted. “I thought R&W was a root beer.”
“It’s A&W, nut,” Reaper told him.
“Ah, right. Guess I’m tired.”
“Then let’s go home.” Reaper went to the bottom of the stairs then shouted up, “We’re leaving.”
He got a chorus of “Good night” in return.
After turning out the lights on the ground floor, Zack adjusted his crutches—for the hundredth time, it seemed to him—and the three men headed out.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Is it a bit too much?” Brian asked Thursday morning, gazing up at the banner above the door of the new Off-the-Street.
All the work had been finished, and everything from the old building had been moved over the previous day.
“Well,” Zack chuckled. “It does sort of remind me of the first day of a new supermarket.”
The banner said ‘Grand Opening’ in blazing red and gold graffiti-style lettering, and was obviously handmade.
“Yeah I know, but the kids insisted that we needed it and when I protested, ten of them got together to make that.”
“It’s definitely eye-catching,” Dallas commented. “Enough to draw crowds.”
Zack nodded, looking at the line of homeless kids waiting for Brian to unlock the door to the new home for the shelter. Before Brian could, a limousine pulled up in front of the building. The chauffeur got out then opened the rear door, and the mayor, flanked by two subordinates, stepped onto the sidewalk. Moments later, two more cars arrived, disgorging members of the city council. Photographers and TV cameramen converged and began shooting the scene as the dignitaries came over to congratulate a somewhat nonplused Brian.
Zack and Dallas rapidly moved away to join Nate and the Rattlers, who were standing next to the building.
“I didn’t expect this to be a circus,” Dallas muttered.
“From the look on Brian’s face, neither did he. I can’t say that I’m too surprised, however,” Zack replied. “The paper had a big article on the City page this morning about the shelter’s new home and that it would be opening today.”
By then, more city dignitaries had appeared. Most of the teens had faded away at that point. Zack was certain it was because they didn’t want to be photographed for fear their families might see them in the paper or on television.
“You’re sticking around?” Zack asked Zip and the others.
Raven shrugged, replying, “My folks are halfway across the country. I don’t think this will make the national news.”
“Same here,” Colly told Zack.
“And me and Sway are legal age,” Zip put in, “so there’s nothing our families can do, even if they gave a damn.”
Zack watched, torn between amusement and pity as Brian dealt with mayor and reporters. Then, with a flourish, Brian turned, unlocked the door, and ushered everyone inside. Twenty minutes or so later, the dignitaries dispersed, their photo-op time over. The TV and newspersons followed, and things were quiet for the moment. Zack and the others went inside to find Brian leaning against the counter, talking to three of the counselors.