Monkey in the Middle

A Chapter by siloqui

Chapter 2 in TBD

FIrst priority: Money. That's all Dakota could think, while listening to Mrs. Lebowitz explain the history assignment for the third time because she couldn't keep her class in line and no one listened during instructions. Even without his textbook or pages of notes that got taken out of his bag, he was almost finished, while the majority of class was tossing crumpled up homework pages, playing monkey in the middle with Diane on the inside. She ran back and forth, trying to grab the paper, and the students mocked her mercilessly, waiting until the last second to throw it, trying to make her look as incompetent as possible.

Diane Norwood was the school laughing stock. Her glasses were comically large, she always wore high pigtails that were just the slightest bit uneven, and dressed like an overgrown American Girl doll. In short, she had never grown up. She was different, and had been picked on since as early as Dakota could remember. He thought just how sad it was. Did they really not understand that she wasn't the same as them? He didn't know exactly what it was, but she clearly wasn't able to function the same way the other students were. Diane lunged forward, grasping at the air as the paper sailed three feet above her fingertips, and fell onto the ground with a loud thud. The students laughed, pointing and jeering, Mrs. Lebowitz trying to shout over them, but her frail, timid voice was left ignored. Diane slowly sat up, rubbing her head, crying, and raised her bent glasses to her face. She tried putting them on, but the frame was so bent that one side simply rested atop her head while the other rested in its usual place on her ear. This, of course, only invited more laughs and fingers pointed, and Diane left the room in a hurry, sniffling as she went. Dakota stood up, and followed her out of the room.

"Hey! Hey, Diane!" Dakota called out.

"Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!" Diane lashed out, sinking against the hallway wall.

"Hey... it's okay. I'm not like them, I won't laugh at you."
"You won't?" Diane looked up, tentatively hopeful.

"Of course not. Diane, you don't listen to them, okay? They're mean people, and mean people are only mean so long as nice people like you listen to them. Once you stop listening, they'll get bored of being mean. So next time one of them laughs at you, just come find me okay? And I promise everything will be okay." Wiping her nose, Diane enveloped Dakota in a warm hug that smelt slightly of cheese. "Okay Diane, you take care of yourself. I'm going to go talk to those boys who were pointing at you, and I'm going to make sure that they don't do that again. I'll see you tomorrow"

Turning, Dakota returned to the classroom. His energy shifted immediately once he stood up from comforting to purposeful. Diane didn't deserve this abuse. She was sweet, and all she wanted was a friend. Dakota walked through the doorway, and up to a tall blonde boy who had been leading the jeers against Diane. This boy was your classic jock. Popular, large and muscular, and above all, hotheaded. So when Dakota, the quiet, poor, genius freak of the school walked up until he was six inches from his face, and invited the jock to mess with someone capable of defending themselves after school in the alley behind the corner store, the jock jumped on the threat. Any chance to look tough and cool was something this guy couldn't turn down, and even if he got a black eye or split lip, it'd probably help his popularity and win him 'sympathy points'. And anyway, he could take this weirdo.

Dakota simply recognized his acceptance for the meeting, and left the building. That was enough school for him for the day. Technically he had two classes left, but he was done and that was that. Slinging his empty bag over his shoulder, he made his way down a few blocks to the corner store by the alley. Walking in, he saw the man behind the counter with bloodshot eyes staring into the distance. Dakota smiled and nodded, and began walking through the aisles. A can of beans here, some band aids there, a tooth brush there, and soon his bag was filled. Looking back to make sure the cashier hadn't noticed anything, he simply walked out of the store and to the alley.

"Looks like we've got a picnic today." Dakota sarcastically chuckled to himself as he pulled out some goldfish, a pack of junior mints, and an apple juice. He got to work on the goldfish, leaning against the brick wall of the run-down fiftie's diner on the other side of the alley from the convenience store. From this angle, he could see people coming down the street from the school towards the alley, but the trash cans to his right masked him from the average passer-by who may glance down the alley. The last thing he needed was someone questioning why a fifteen year old kid was sitting in a sketchy alley by a strip club. Speaking of the strip club, the sound of the music inside the club amplified as the backdoor opened, and a bouncer came out, dragging a man by the collar, and deposited him into the alley.

The bouncer, a large man with chocolatey brown skin, and biceps the size of watermelons, began telling the man off, and explaining that he wouldn't be welcomed back. The scrawny man with the stubbly beard who had been thrown out, began to argue with the bouncer. "Wow... this man must either be drunk off his a*s, or have a death wish." thought Dakota. The bouncer was easily twice his size, and the man didn't seem very threatening. Maybe he was carrying a weapon? Whether he was armed or not, he didn't show it, and eventually the bouncer seemed to scare him enough to agree.

The bouncer returned to the club, closing the door behind him, and "Pour Some Sugar on Me" faded to silence as the door shut. The man who had been thrown out, stumbled a bit from the entrance, and begin angrily muttering to himself. He pulled out a stack of cash, and begin counting. Once he had counted it all, his muttering got louder, to the point where Dakota could understand what he was saying.

"She robbed me! The b***h robbed me!" Dakota slowly pulled his legs back. He was fairly hidden, but he really didn't want to deal with this guy. Who knows what his state was, or what he might do if there was a kid he could take his anger out on. Dakota was pretty smart on his feet, and had a small pocket knife he carried with him at all times, but this guy could have a gun, and every second that passed, the man looked further and further from reason.

It was at this moment, that a woman turned the corner from the other side of the alleyway. This woman had long strawberry blonde hair covered in glitter, a face full of makeup, and a trench coat lazily put over lingerie. She wore large sunglasses, and was counting a stack of cash. She clearly had just gotten off a shift at the club.

"Hey! You!" The man screamed at the woman. She looked up, and immediately shoved the cash into her pocket. "You robbed me! You know what you told me I'd get for a private dance! You gotta make good! I didn't get my three hundred's worth!" The woman just kind of looked at him in disgust, and Dakota could tell she was trying to gauge whether to simply walk past him, or turn around and leave the alley. Slowly, Dakota stood up. The man's attention was on the woman he believed to have robbed him, and Dakota wasn't going to let this woman get attacked by this man.

The woman began trying to brush the man off with a few short comments, trying to continue down the alley, and Dakota saw as the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small switchblade. At this point, Dakota charged towards the man.

"THE DOOR!" shouted Dakota, as he tackled the man from behind. The woman, clearly flustered, just stood there for a moment, until she saw the knife that skidded a few feet away from the man, as he was pushed to the ground. Dakota had him pinned, and the woman ran to the door, and knocked furiously until the bouncer opened the door. Upon the sight of the man, he simply nodded, walked up, and gave Dakota a small nod of the head. Dakota let the man go, quickly grabbing the knife on the ground a few feet from the man.

The bouncer picked the man up by the collar, raising him a full six or so inches off the ground. He got about half a foot from the man's face, and leaned in, whispering something in the man's ear. Dakota couldn't make it out, but it must have been pretty intimidating, judging by the wet spot that formed on the struggling man's pants. Once the bouncer was finished, he roughly tossed the man back on the alley floor. He fell onto his back, then scrambled back up and ran out of the alley.

Going up to the woman, the bouncer checked to make sure she was okay, and sent her on her way, and only then turned to acknowledge Dakota. He simply stood there, taking Dakota in for a few seconds. Not many people could make Dakota uncomfortable in this way, but the way this man looked at him, made him uneasy. He couldn't tell if this man was about to thank him or toss him against the wall.

Just when Dakota had decided it was probably the latter, and he should probably run - this man was big, but Dakota was fast, and just as he was deciding whether or not to fake the man out to try to get a second more of a head start, the man held out his hand.

"Len."

"Oh... uh Dakota. Sorry about the man, I just... I saw him getting agitated, and then he pulled out a knife, and it looked as if he was going to attack that woman."

"Thank you." The man's expression had softened greatly, and Dakota only now noticed that this man had large kind eyes and defined laugh lines, though he couldn't have been over thirty-five. The man seemed to contemplate Dakota for another moment. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen." responded Dakota. He hated answering this question. He had never related to his peers, but all adults treated him like a child. Time and time again, he would try to simply go to the library and ask the librarian about finding "The Age of Insight: The Quest to Understand the Unconscious in Art, Mind, and Brain from Vienna 1900 to the Present", and have the librarian simply laugh in his face. No one took him seriously. He truly wished he was an old man. Maybe then someone would talk to him as an equal. Being an orphan without many friends, he had never had that. No one had ever treated him as an equal, he was either a burden, a street rat, or that freaky genius kid. Now this man, Len, knew he was barely out of middle school, and probably was about to tussle his hair or say something demeaning along the lines of "Well this is probably the wrong neck of woods for you, kid, run along." Dakota hated being called "kid".

"Oh. What are you doing out here then? This is a pretty rough part of town." And there it was. Dakota sighed. He always knew it was coming, but it still sucked every time his suspicions were confirmed. The man continued, "Though you do seem to be pretty competent." Well. That was something at least. Len may not be all bad.

"I spend most of my time near here. That store is the reason I'm alive." Dakota indicated the convenience store. Len seemed confused for a moment, but while he looked in that direction, he caught sight of Dakota's duffel bag filled with some snack food, and the toothbrush and roll of toilet paper that laid on the top of the contents of the bag. Dakota deflated. He had rushed to the man so fast, he hadn't bothered to hide or even close his bag. At least no one had taken it. "I should..." Dakota headed over to the bag, and began zipping up the contents, and slung it along his back. The man's look of concern was nothing short of condescending, and Dakota didn't want his pity. He began thinking up an excuse to leave.

"Do you have anywhere to stay, Dakota?" Was that a softness in the man's voice? Maybe his look hadn't been condescending. No. It had to be, adults were always condescending, and this man would be no different. He most likely was about to go through that awkward apologetic conversation which got him nowhere.

"Yep. I'm fine." Dakota replied shortly. Len raised an eyebrow.

"Okay... Well if you need anything. I mean. You helped me out a lot with that guy back there." Dakota nodded curtly, and began to leave. He could still feel the man's eyes on his back. What was he doing? The man had been nice. One of the first adults to be nice to Dakota in... well, longer than he could remember. And Dakota did need help. Even a small request... Turning around, Dakota saw that he was right, the man was watching him walk away.

"Well... do you maybe know of anywhere hiring nearby? I could definitely use some money... and I have time." The words felt strange coming out of his mouth. He never asked people for help. He was a loner, and he made it work. The corner of Len's mouth turned upward into a small smile.

"Yeah. Actually, my wife is working over at Betsy's Diner." Len said, pointing over at the diner Dakota had stationed himself at just earlier. "She could definitely use some help. Her boss isn't necessarily the most generous..." Len had an understanding look in his eye, "but her boss overworks her, and I'm sure if you offered to help her out she'd give you tips, and shift meals. It'd be a start, and if you do well, maybe her boss will give you an official position." Maybe asking for help wasn't so bad. This was a better lead than Dakota had been able to find so far, nowhere wanted to hire a fifteen-year-old homeless kid.

"Oh... yeah okay. Thank you." Len nodded and turned back to head into the club, but at the last moment, called back.

"And, hey, if you change your mind, and you need anything. Don't hesitate to ask my wife. I'd say come here, but..." Len chuckled and halfway shrugged while gesturing to the club. "Might not be the best idea."

"Yeah alright. Will do. Thanks, Len." Dakota turned and headed towards the diner. This man had actually treated him as an equal. Not once did he talk down to Dakota, only offered him his honest help - or at least that's how it seemed. Maybe he would head back in the future... but for now, it was time to see if he could get a job.

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© 2017 siloqui

Author's Note

Very new here, VERY rough draft. Please ignore grammar problems :) First piece of work. Hungry for constructive criticism. Thank you :)

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Coyote Poetry

You are a very good writer. You give enough to make every situation worthwhile to read. You are using the who, what, where, when and how of every situation. This is great skill. Your description of people, places and actions are very good. I liked both side of the story. Helping the girl and meeting the new friend. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote