Dan's Decision
He could remember plenty of times in his life when the smell of food had left him weak with hunger, knowing he had nothing to eat himself. And there were other times, when he’d been so thankful to have a meal of any kind, he didn’t question where it came from or even, in some cases, what it was. Now, as the stolen chunks of venison roasted on the open fire, he only felt sickened. He wanted none of it. He stared at the flickering flames sightlessly, wishing he were anywhere but sitting in this clearing, listening to his blood brother and former best friend castigate him for his unwillingness to sink back into the life he’d so narrowly escaped.
And he was afraid. Afraid that the pledge he’d made as a terrified twelve-year-old boy would be honored through force. You didn’t just leave the Cowhands. Once in, the only way out was dying.
Maybe he simply needed to accept that he hadn’t escaped at all, narrowly or otherwise. He climbed to his feet slowly, reluctantly reaching for his bag, still hesitating though Luke had made it clear it was time to go.
Life on the streets had taught him to be wary, to keep his eyes and ears open at all times because you never knew when a cop or a rival gang member could get the jump on you. So it was with no small surprise that he watched Trixie Belden stumble into the clearing, collapsing as she burst into tears, babbling incoherently about her baby brother stuck in some hole. He hadn’t even heard her coming and now he was astonished to see her, to hear her beg for his help.
Sometimes in life you made small decisions, ones you thought were simple and insignificant, but they came back to punch you in the gut in big and bad ways. Sometimes, though, you knew you were standing at a crossroads and your very next step would determine the course of the rest of your life. Dan was suddenly aware such a choice faced him.
For a moment, he was almost immobilized with fear. Luke’s sneer was chilling. His features were especially harsh in the firelight and for a brief second, Dan thought he was looking at Evil. He reached down as deep as he could, summoning a courage he’d thought had deserted him years before, and made his decision. He dropped his sack, hurried to Trixie’s side, and helped her to her feet.
A distant memory struck him, one that left him with the absurd and hysterical urge to laugh. He could remember, once so long ago, his dad telling him that no matter how strong a man thought he was, all it took was one crying woman to bring him to his knees. How ironic then, that for Dan, it was this sobbing girl who had reminded him how to be brave, who had given his strength back to him.
There would be repercussions, he was sure, but he would deal with those later.
And he was afraid. Afraid that the pledge he’d made as a terrified twelve-year-old boy would be honored through force. You didn’t just leave the Cowhands. Once in, the only way out was dying.
Maybe he simply needed to accept that he hadn’t escaped at all, narrowly or otherwise. He climbed to his feet slowly, reluctantly reaching for his bag, still hesitating though Luke had made it clear it was time to go.
Life on the streets had taught him to be wary, to keep his eyes and ears open at all times because you never knew when a cop or a rival gang member could get the jump on you. So it was with no small surprise that he watched Trixie Belden stumble into the clearing, collapsing as she burst into tears, babbling incoherently about her baby brother stuck in some hole. He hadn’t even heard her coming and now he was astonished to see her, to hear her beg for his help.
Sometimes in life you made small decisions, ones you thought were simple and insignificant, but they came back to punch you in the gut in big and bad ways. Sometimes, though, you knew you were standing at a crossroads and your very next step would determine the course of the rest of your life. Dan was suddenly aware such a choice faced him.
For a moment, he was almost immobilized with fear. Luke’s sneer was chilling. His features were especially harsh in the firelight and for a brief second, Dan thought he was looking at Evil. He reached down as deep as he could, summoning a courage he’d thought had deserted him years before, and made his decision. He dropped his sack, hurried to Trixie’s side, and helped her to her feet.
A distant memory struck him, one that left him with the absurd and hysterical urge to laugh. He could remember, once so long ago, his dad telling him that no matter how strong a man thought he was, all it took was one crying woman to bring him to his knees. How ironic then, that for Dan, it was this sobbing girl who had reminded him how to be brave, who had given his strength back to him.
There would be repercussions, he was sure, but he would deal with those later.
