The Adventures of Stevie #74
These stories were told to me by friends and other people. Some of them
are true. Some of them are only partly true. Some of them should have
been true. LOL
My first post about Stevie ("Call me Stephen!") was when he was 12 and
in summer camp and was told by another camper. This was from a time
before computers would fit on a desk and when people communicated with
friends in other countries by actual letters sent through the postal
service. When children did this those friends were called "penpals".
Carlos is Stevie's penpal in Argentina and knows English. This is a
fictional contrivance to enable Stevie to tell us his stories because
he isn't here in person. I think.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Stevie's school is for gifted children who don't fit in regular schools.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stevie is 12 in this story, after year 2 of summer camp.
The Adventures of Stevie #74 "The Rescue"
Dear Carlos,
I have to tell you first, Dan is in the hospital, and not just
because of plastic surgery to change his looks. Things didn't go
exactly like we planned. It started out well. Father and Chad and me
left home and met up with the rest of the crew in a big parking lot.
Chad and I hugged Rod and Jan. We got into a big panel truck and drove
away. Another one came with us, with father's team in it. The horses
and other team members were already at the staging area.
We didn't talk on the way there. We had already memorized the plan and
everything with it. There wasn't anything we wanted to talk about. We
held hands where we could. The staging area was set up well, which we
saw when we got there. They unloaded the trucks, and us new arrivals
slept after we had lunch. We tried to. I don't know about the other
kids, but I don't think I got any sleep. We got up and ate supper,
while the horses were being loaded. Then we got on our horses and rode
into the woods.
When it was too dark for the horses to go by themselves, because they
are really afraid of the dark, we got off and lead them, Rod in front,
because of his better dark vision. We didn't want any of them to break
a leg. I forgot to tell you why we needed to use horses. It's because
we couldn't use bicycles in the woods. It's true. We needed transport
which didn't make engine noise, which didn't leave easy to see tire
tracks, which could carry more than we could walking, which was faster
than we could run. They had horses in the town, so they might confuse
the tracks of our horses with theirs, if they noticed them.
We got to the burial area. The grave mound was there. The second team
started digging the new grave next to it, while Chad scouted the area.
He came back and said it was all clear, and he could see from the edge
of the forest, the town was quiet. Father reviewed the next step with
us, and we checked our communications. We each had walkie-talkies we
could talk through, which we could also use for silent pulse code
signaling. Rod and I left, and sneaked through the forest to the edge
of it closest to the town where Dan's house was.
All this time I was feeling around with my mind for animals which
could give us away. Now I felt dogs. I didn't feel any people outside
the houses, but just regular animals. I told the dogs not to bark. They
didn't. We crept silently to Dan's house, and looked in his window. He
wasn't there!
This wasn't what we were hoping for, but we had prepared for
unexpected things. I told one of the dogs to come to me. When he did, I
made him sniff one of Dan's dirty shirts, which we brought with us just
in case this happened. I told him to find Dan, and the dog led us to
one of the town's storage buildings. It was locked with a padlock. Rod
took out his lock-picking kit, and had it open in a minute. The dog led
us to a room inside which was locked the same way. Rod picked it. In
case you were wondering why I didn't pick them, it's because we weren't
using any lights, and Rod could see better. There was enough starlight
and moonlight coming in the windows, to be almost as bright as day for
him. I pulse signaled father what had happened. He acknowledged.
We opened the door. It squeaked loudly. We could have oiled the
hinges to prevent that, but it would leave evidence he had help to
escape. It couldn't be helped, so we ignored it. Dan was there, on his
stomach, on a bed. He was moaning in his sleep. The back of his shirt
was ripped open, and I don't want to think about what I saw. He had
been WHIPED! I pushed what I felt for him to one side of my mind, and
we went to work fast. I woke him up and asked if he was able to come
with is. He said he was. I gave him a shot in his vein of morphine, to
dull the pain a little. We learn all the battle first aid tricks at
school. It worked fast. He could run with us, if he needed to. We had
planned to have him change clothes before leaving, but now we didn't
have to. We were about to leave, when he grabbed a book and insisted we
take it with us. He said they would bury him with his Bible. We took
it.
We closed but didn't lock the door to the room he was in. The same
for the building door. We left the padlocks on a table inside. Dan was
bleeding from his back. We let it drip on the ground so they could
follow it to his fake grave. We were just outside the building, when a
man with a rifle came outside and almost saw us. I warned Dan and Rod.
Then I told them to go to the forest. I would take care of the man if I
needed to, and not to wait for me. They ran.
The man with the gun had a whip hanging from his belt. I went all hot
and then cold. I wanted to kill him, with that whip, one slow stroke at
a time. I REALLY wanted to do that. I brought some dogs to me, and told
them to jump on him. One grabbed the man's throat with his teeth, so
the man couldn't yell, and another bit his gun arm, and another took
his rifle away. The man was on the ground, wrestling with the dogs. I
came up behind him and kicked him with my hard boot toe, just behind
the ear. He went limp. I checked him, and he was still alive. I was
disappointed, but left him that way. Almost. I had one of the dogs chew
on his monster and nuts a little, so he wouldn't be able to run too
fast after me, or for help, if he woke up too soon. Maybe more than a
little. The dog didn't want to stop, and I wasn't in the mood to make
him. Maybe that whip wasn't just used on people. I thought about the
Golden Rule. Maybe there really was something to it, after all.
I ran to the forest without any other trouble. Chad was waiting for
me there. We went back to the burial area. I reported to father most of
what happened, while the second team was undressing Dan, and treating
his back. We didn't let him see what happened to his old clothes and
Bible. His clothes were going on a dead male body his size, and they
were going to be buried with the Bible in the hole they already dug.
When father plans and works a job, he does it RIGHT.
Dan's back was bandaged, and he had new clothes on, but he he wasn't
in a condition to ride a horse. Not with the medication and his loss of
blood. We were prepared for that too. I put my hand on his forehead and
made him sleep. He would stay that way for hours, unless I woke him up.
They bent him over a packhorse and tied him in place. It took just a
little longer to fill in the grave, and then we cleaned up the area
together, and led the horses away. Rod was behind us, erasing the
tracks we left, so they wouldn't know the grave was visited by
outsiders.
It was just getting light when we reached the staging area. The
school kids piled into one of the trucks, with father and Dan, who was
still asleep, and we left right away. The other truck and the horse
transports, would leave when they were ready. I kept Dan asleep until
we were at the secure hospital. I let him wake up then, but he wasn't
awake all the way because of the drugs. He knew we were there, and was
happy about it, and that's what mattered the most for him. We didn't
tell him how he looked. They didn't just whip him. They hit him in the
face, too. He was cut up, and one eye was swollen shut, but he still
had all his teeth. I think one of his attackers had a bad ring on. I
remembered the man who almost saw us had a big ring on his hand. I
hoped that dog was REALLY hungry.
Dan is really going to need some plastic surgery now, not just for a
disguise. He has a broken cheekbone. He won't have much scars on his
face, but will on his back forever. All the kids cried for him. Even
Jan, who never met Dan before. Rod and I were all scratched up and
didn't notice it until a nurse came for us, so we got treated there
too. We had to leave before Dan could talk to us, but I will go back
with father this weekend before school starts. Then we have to figure
out what Dan's future will be. Chad is staying with me at my foster
home until then. Father suggested it. I think he knew we both needed
each other's company till we knew Dan felt better. We sleep together,
but just hugging and kissing. I don't know why, but it feels right we
shouldn't have boy play fun, when Dan can't.
Your friend,
Stephen
--
Grant
|
|