The Manipulator

By Daniel Carnahan

Lawyer stories have long fascinated the American reading public. Throwing the Mafia into the mix makes the plot even more attractive. The author, a Vietnam veteran with twenty-five years of experience as a Los Angeles police officer and with a Juris Doctorate degree in law, has crafted a massive, almost 700 page novel that blends police procedure with legal thriller as the protagonists battle both the mob and the head of a powerful, socially prominent family.

Mac Thornsby knows what it is like to be bullied. Growing up on the streets after being orphaned at a young age, he barely survived a beating from one of the local thugs when first learning how to live on his own and managed to do that only with the help of a stranger. Several years later as the husband of a rich socialite he once saved from drowning, he is again bullied into taking part in an assassination but is saved by a Mafia lieutenant who helps fake the deaths. Circumstantial evidence still fingers him for the crimes, however, and it is up to Deputy District Attorney Jim MacDonald to dig for the truth. His investigation as well as a past love relationship will propel him into a desperate fight for his life, the lives of several others involved in the case, and justice.

Filled with intense violence, knife-edge suspense, and possibly one of the longest car chases in literary history, Carnahans book has many of the elements of a bestseller. The author could very well have a hit on his hands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Feb 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781466984165

Daniel Carnahan

Daniel Carnahan served in Vietnam between 1968 and 1969 in the U.S. Army, and was assigned to an Artillery Unit in the First Calvary Division. After leaving Vietnam, he married his wife, Annette, and obtained a B.S. degree in Business from California State University, Northridge. He was a Los Angeles Police Officer for more than 25 years where he worked patrol, special enforcement units, undercover, drugs, gangs, burglary, and homicide. Upon retirement, he attended law school and earned a Juris Doctorate degree.

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© Copyright 2014 Daniel Carnahan.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4669-8418-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-8417-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-8416-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013904463

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

Life on the Streets

A s the elevator began its ascent to the roof, Getti ordered coldly, Take off your overcoat, your shoes and your socks. Drop them on the floor.

It’ll be freezing on the roof, Mac protested as he stared in disbelief at Getti.

The ice cold stare in Getti’s eyes made Mac shutter in fearful apprehension. His fear was confirmed as he watched Getty tense his body, and doubled his massive hands into fists. Getti’s message to Mac was clear, ‘Do as you are told or end up dead.’ Mac was a large man, but certainly no match for the powerfully built Getti. Mac removed his shoes, socks and overcoat.

The elevator stopped at the roof above the 72nd floor. As the elevator doors opened, Mac felt a powerful blast of frigid air. He shivered as he felt his fingers and toes immediately start to tingle, and then go numb.

Get out. It’s time to settle this once and for all, Getti ordered. You can live or die; it doesn’t much matter to me. Regardless of what you decide, Addison and her family will be dead before morning and the evidence will show you’re their murderer unless you agree to do as you’re told.

Mac commanded his feet to move forward, but there was no response. When Mac didn’t move, Getti body slammed him so hard that Mac bodily flew out of the elevator, and landed ‘spread eagle’ across the ice covered roof. Mac tried to move, but his body refused to respond.

Getti lifted Mac’s body off the roof, and held him by his shirt collar. Mac’s arms dangled like those of a rag doll. Mac was powerless to move on his own. He was also painfully aware that his fate rested entirely in Getti’s hands. Getti was the one man he had no reason to trust, and the one man from whom he expected no compassion. Getti grabbed Mac’s neck in his huge hands, squeezing the life from him in an unbreakable vice grip. Mac was sure he was going to die tonight and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Mac then found himself gasping for air, realizing Getti had removed his hands from his neck and now had slipped an arm around him to hold his body upright.

In spite of Getti’s attempt to keep him awake, Mac slipped into unconsciousness. Unconscious, Mac’s thoughts drifted back to the day his mother died. He was only nine, but it was a day he will never forget. He found his mother sitting on the couch with a vacant stare. He called to her and when she didn’t answer, he thought she might be asleep.

He came closer, and when he touched her, her body was cold. Mac couldn’t wake her up. Realizing that something was very wrong, he ran down the hall to a neighbor’s apartment to ask for help. The neighbor came running, checked his mother, and called the police.

Two policemen arrived at his mother’s one-room apartment, and waited with Mac for the coroner. No one told Mac that they were also waiting for the case worker from Children Services. When the coroner finally arrived downstairs, the older policeman said to the younger one,

"You wait here with the kid while I go down and bring the coroner up here. Children’s Services is on the way to pick him up. Don’t let the boy out of your sight for even a second. Sarge will have our asses if we don’t hand the boy over to Children’s Services when they get here.

Remember Sandusky? He got impatient waiting for Children Services, and left the child alone for only a few minutes. The kid was gone, and wasn’t found until a few days later, dead in an alley. The media blamed the boy’s death on police incompetence, and a lack of compassion. Everyone jumped on that bandwagon, and the media had a field day. The Chief was so angry that Sandusky is still walking a graveyard foot beat down on the docks. You let that happen to us, and I’ll have your ass!"

I won’t take my eyes off him, the young policeman promised.

I’ll be back right back, the older policeman said as he hurried downstairs to meet the coroner with the gurney. They were back in a few minutes. Mac watched as the policeman and the coroner lifted his mother onto the gurney, and wheeled her downstairs to the coroner’s wagon waiting outside at the curb.

His mother’s words to a neighbor then came to mind,

"I’d rather my son take his chances on the streets than end up in the care of Children Services. Those idiot bureaucrats treat kids like convicted prisoners telling them what to do, when to do it, and never allowing them the opportunity to make any decisions themselves.

If a kid is never allowed to make any decisions, he never is afforded the opportunity to learn from his mistakes while the consequences are relatively small. Instead, that person finds himself suddenly out on his own, and now for the first time is required to make his own decisions.

A person, who suddenly finds himself out on his own, without previous decision making experience is less likely to consider the possible consequences of any decision before making it. This constitutes a substantial disadvantage that could prove extremely detrimental to that person’s future.

Those kids have no job skills, an inadequate education, no work experience, and no street smarts which makes building a future much more difficult. If my kid ever had to live on the streets, the streets would force to deal with hard times, and teach him how to make decisions that will ensure his future and survival, or it will kill him.

There are no second chances on the street. The streets teach the wisdom of learning from the bad decisions of others in order to avoid suffering the same consequences.

Survival teaches it is best to err on the side of caution in making decisions of any consequence. For example, a fight is to be avoided if at all possible if for no other reason than a fight often carries the penalty of injuries whether you win or lose. Even seemingly minor injuries can make the difference between survival and death. The law of the street holds that no matter how big or bad you may be, there will always be someone a little ‘bigger and a little stronger’ than you."

Mac had not fully understood the meaning of his mother’s words at the time, but he had seen other boys living on the streets, and could see that life there was a constant fight to survive. Although life as a ward of the State may not be pleasant, his survival would be guaranteed up to age eighteen, whereas the streets offered no such guarantee. But he trusted his mother, her instincts and her advice.

So as soon as the policeman and the coroner had taken his mother downstairs, Mac innocently told the young policeman, I’ve got to use the bathroom. It’s just down the hall. You can wait outside if you want. I’ve got no where to go anyway.

The policeman followed Mac down the hall to the bathroom, and dutifully waited outside the door. Mac went inside closing, and silently locking the door behind him.

The impact of his mother’s death hadn’t fully hit him yet, but he was determined to follow his mother’s advice that growing up on the streets was preferable to growing up under child services. He silently slid the bathroom window open, and quickly slipped outside onto the narrow building ledge. He focused on the building wall, afraid to look down, and quickly made his way along the ledge to the fire escape located at the far end of the building.

He wasn’t more than 10-feet from the fire escape when he heard a booming voice from inside say,

I’m Bodine from Child Services. Where’s the kid?

Mac knew his only chance for escape was to climb down the fire escape to the street, and then run for his life. He hurried along the ledge toward the fire escape. When he was close, he lunged for the fire escape, slipped, but then caught himself. He then scrambled down to the bottom of the fire escape to find he was still 10-feet above the ground.

He heard a loud crash of breaking and splintering wood, and knew the young policeman had just kicked the bathroom door open. He looked up to see the young policeman hanging out the bathroom window yelling down at him,

Stay where you are, kid!

Mac was near panic as he realized he didn’t have the strength to release the lever that would allow the last length of ladder to slide down to the ground.

The young policeman was now climbing out the window onto the building ledge, just as he had done. Mac knew he had no more time, and recklessly jumped down to the sidewalk below.

The young policeman yelled to his partner,

The kid took the fire escape. He just jumped to the sidewalk, and he’s about to run. Head him off before he can get away!

By some miracle, Mac didn’t injure himself in the fall, got to his feet, and ran headlong into the heavy cross-traffic causing cars to skid and swerve away trying to avoid hitting him. Miraculously, there were no collisions, but many close calls.

The senior policeman rounded the corner, charged across the street through the stopped and still stunned driver’s who had so narrowly avoided hitting Mac. Mac could hear his pursuers’ footsteps, and knew his pursuers were gaining on him leaving little chance to escape.

Mac knew he had to find a place to hide fast. Then he heard the words,

Kid, you’d better stop running if you know what’s good for you!

Mac had heard stories about what happened to kids who ran from the police, and that fear drove him on pouring even more adrenaline into his system enabling him to run even faster. As he cut sharply between two more buildings, he heard the words of one of his pursuers,

Stop where you are, kid! A kid your age won’t last a week out here on your own. The only thing you’ll find out here is starvation, pain, and death. At least at Children’s Services you’ll have a place to sleep, stay warm, and you won’t be starving to death, robbed, or beaten to death.

Mac kept on running. As he rounded the corner of the next building, he spotted a small crawl space underneath a building. He slid to a stop, pulled the access door open, and dove inside pulling the door closed behind him. He didn’t stop until was completely hidden in the darkness there. He then turned toward the entrance to see one pair of legs run by, and then another.

He lay frozen in the absolute fear that he would be discovered. And even though those policemen never returned, he was too scared to leave his place of safety until many hours later when hunger forced him from his hiding place.

He came across a street vendor closing his hot dog stand. He watched as the man threw unsold hot dogs into a dumpster, and then pushed his cart down the street making his way home.

When no one was looking, Mac slipped quietly from his hiding place to the trash dumpster, and quickly removed the hot dogs. He slipped behind the dumpster, and hungrily devoured the hot dogs like a starving dog.

The hot dogs made him thirsty forcing him to hunt for the rare working water faucet on the side of a building. When he finally found one that worked, he drank until his thirst was quenched. He was just about to hurry back to his hiding place under the building when the sound of approaching voices prompted him to hide. A moment later he saw a smaller boy being dragged into the alley by a larger boy.

The larger boy menacingly demanded,

Give me your money! I want it all.

When the smaller boy refused, the larger boy savagely beat him until the boy lay unconscious on the ground. The larger boy then went through the smaller boys pockets, and removed everything of value. The boy then turned toward his two friends standing guard at the entrance to the alley, and nodded.

The two boys checked the street, gave a thumbs up, and the larger boy joined the other two at the alley entrance. The larger boy showed the other two the loot, and they laughed as they looked back down the alley at the still body of their victim. Then they quickly slipped away down the street.

After Mac was sure they were gone, he walked over to the unconscious boy lying in the alley. As he looked down at the boy’s bloody face and motionless body, he couldn’t help but wonder if the boy was alive or dead. He knew that he would end up the same way if those boys thought he had something of value.

Then the boy groaned painfully and tried to sit up, but couldn’t. Mac didn’t know what to do, and was afraid that if the boy saw him, he might think he was involved in the beating. Mac ran back to his hiding spot watching and waiting.

He heard the boy’s painful groans several more times as the boy fought to sit upright wincing in pain at each effort. The boy finally forced himself to a sitting position and from a sitting position to a standing position.

He continued to watch as the boy next forced himself to walk down the alley, knowing that only the boy’s determination and will to survive kept him moving. Mac watched in admiration as the boy made his way out of the alley, and disappeared around the corner.

Mac now had first hand experience of the cruelty rampant on these streets, and couldn’t understand why this boy was so determined to survive when he had to know that he could expect only more of the same? He went back to the only place he felt safe, his hiding place beneath the building. He slept uneasily throughout the night fearing discovery, dreading he’d end up like this boy, and whether he could even survive another day.

He woke up late the next morning very hungry. He went on the street looking for food. He came across the same hot dog vendor who was working the same corner as the day before. Mac looked enviously at the hot dogs cooking on the fire, and couldn’t take his eyes off them.

The vendor saw the unmistakable look of hunger and desperation on Mac’s face that reminded him of himself when he was about Mac’s age trying to survive on these same streets. The look brought back the misery and desperation that was his life back then.

As Mac walked by, the vendor stopped him, and handed him two hot dogs with mustard, mayonnaise and relish. Mac looked at the two hot dogs in his hands with such unexpected pleasure and gratitude that the vendor could not help but smile and say,

Enjoy those hot dogs. My hot dogs are the best around as you can taste for yourself. So maybe when you have some money you might buy some from me. Be careful out here. Life here is all the more dangerous because life here is so cheap.

As Mac was thanking the vendor, he noticed the same bully who beat the other boy the day before. The bully was watching him eat the hot dogs. Mac started to hurry away, but the vendor stopped him, and said.

You’ll be much safer eating those here by me. Sit down on the curb. It will be all right.

Mac sat down on the curb, and thoroughly enjoyed those two hot dogs under the watchful eye of this kind vendor.

The bully across the street looked angry as though Mac had deprived him of his two hot dogs, and his stare made Mac sure the bully intended to get even. Mac finished the two hot dogs and started to get up. The vendor whispered,

Wait until there’s too much traffic for those boys to cross the street before you leave.

As the light on the corner changed and heavy traffic began flowing, the vendor said,

Now is a good time to go. That traffic should give you at least a block’s head start. Good luck!

Mac quickly moved down the street, and was more than a block away before bully and his friends could cross the street. Mac hurried back to his hiding place afraid that now he was a special target of bully and his friends. He didn’t leave his hiding place until long after dark, and only because he could no longer deny the hunger within him.

He searched the streets for restaurants, and then checked the dumpsters behind the restaurants for any food. But he was too late. Every dumpster behind every restaurant in the area had already been scavenged. He vowed to find a way to avoid these constant hunger pangs that were quickly becoming the center of his life. With no food to be found, he was forced to return to his hiding place. As he finally began slipping off to sleep, his mother’s words of advice came back to him,

"We have two choices in life. We can blame our troubles on others or circumstances beyond our control, or we can simply accept responsibility for our situation. Blaming others means we take no responsibility for our lives which means we are allowing others to control our lives. Being responsible for our lives builds character, and confidence in our own abilities that we can be self-reliant and independent.

Taking charge of our lives builds our self-respect and self-worth. Although he didn’t fully understand the meaning of all these words, he did understand that his mother was telling him he must rely on himself for his survival, and be reliant upon himself and his ability to build a better life through hard work and determination.

Success in life is rarely easy, and the wisdom to succeed is often learned through one’s failures, and those who succeed, succeed because they refuse to quit. He remembered her saying,

No one has a greater interest in one’s own success and well-being than the person himself. Learning from our failures and not giving in to them, often proves to be the foundation from which success can be achieved.

Remembering his mother’s words gave him a sense that she was still with him, and that comforted him because he didn’t feel so alone. He was beginning to realize that survival in such a cruel and unforgiving world might be best learned from someone who has already demonstrated their ability to survive here.

Tomorrow morning he decided he would seek out those most successful at coping and surviving within this world. He would try to determine what made them successful, and adopt those attributes to promote his own survival.

It was still dark when he got up the next morning. He went to the nearest restaurant dumpster and was rewarded by finding the restaurant’s chef about to dump last night’s surplus food in the dumpster. When the chef saw Mac, he handed the food to him instead, and Mac gratefully accepted it. First lesson, get up early for the best chance of finding breakfast, and always show gratefulness for a kindness.

Mac soon learned lesson number two: never eat the food at the dumpster where it was found. Not only would it make other boys aware of the food source, but larger boys frequented popular food sources so they could take what they wanted from the smaller boys with impunity.

If word got around that certain chefs were kind to street kids, other kids would hound the chef for favors until the chef stopped providing any food at all. The rule was to keep such kindness to one’s self to protect the chef, and to keep the chef as a food source.

After finding a safe place to eat the food, Mac hurried to the busiest tourist section in the harbor. He climbed a fire escape to the roof of a building that provided a good view of the surrounding area and the shops.

A short time later, he recognized one of the homeless boys walk directly up to a tourist begging for money and food. Most of the people he approached tried to ignore him, but he persisted. They would then walk away, but the boy would follow them making him impossible to ignore. The anger and disgust was obvious on the peoples’ faces, and this change in attitude was noticed by the shopkeepers who couldn’t afford to have potential customers driven away.

The shopkeepers would confront the boy, and threaten to call the police. But the boy would push it, and the shopkeepers would chase the boy away. Police would be summoned, and the police would stop all begging forcing all the street kids to leave regardless of whether or not they were part of the real problem.

No street kid wanted a confrontation with the police because then the police recognized them as trouble makers, further contacts might result in arrests, and eventually they would find themselves in the care of child services.

Rule #1. Mac’s first rule is "never hound people for money or food."

Not more than a half hour later Mac was surprised to see the same boy he watched beaten and robbed the night before, working the street. The boy had cleaned the blood off his still puffy, bruised and discolored face.

He had even somehow managed to clean the blood off his clothes, but he couldn’t hide the fact that every step he took was a new adventure in pain. This boy refused to give into his pain, and he also refused to use his pain to solicit sympathy.

He carried himself with a dignity that showed too much self-respect to be looking for sympathy. He didn’t act like he was asking for a hand-out, but rather for temporary help to enable him to get back on his feet so he could again be self-sufficient.

He never gave the impression that help was expected or even necessary, and people respected him for that too. His attitude ingratiated him to those around him making them want to help this boy regain his self-reliance and to maintain his self-respect.

Rule #2. Mac’s second rule is "accept responsibility for your situation and never blame others for your misfortune. It is also proper to show genuine gratitude for the help of others, recognizing they are under no obligation to provide such help."

The boy never approached others, but waited for others to approach him. It was obvious that the boy was in need and hungry.

Rule #3. Mac’s third rule is "people willingly give to those they believe to be in genuine need provided the person showed no help was expected or due him. This boy’s quiet dignity, pride, courage and desire for independence gave the impression he didn’t want to be dependent on anyone, but himself. The choice to help or not help was solely that of the giver.

The boy was also very adept at dropping coins and dollars in his pocket so that other boys, like him, would not notice he had received help. Mac also saw the boy never fail to whisper appreciatively, God bless your kindness, sir. The boy had style.

Rule #4. Mac’s fourth rule is "a whispered ‘Thank You’ or a smile of sincere gratitude is necessary so that the giver knows his gift is genuinely appreciated, yet never expected. This shows respect to the giver’s kindness."

Discretion protects the kindness of the giver, while protecting the one receiving, from the eyes of larger boys who were likely willing to take the gift by force. The streets have many eyes, during hard times, when hunger is more rampant. Smaller boys are commonly intimidated and beaten by larger boys for gifts received.

Rule #5. Mac’s fifth rule is "blend in, but don’t become invisible. Know your surroundings."

Blending too well into the background may hide you from the other boys, but it also hides you from the very people who may be willing to offer you help. Being too obvious draws unwanted attention to you, and makes you a target to others in need.

Mac almost missed the boy’s constant awareness of his surroundings watching for larger boys who may want to rob him.

Rule #6. Mac’s sixth rule is "always be on the lookout for trouble."

Mac noticed that the boy did not stay in one place for too long, but kept moving so as not to be conspicuous. When he left, he would discreetly use store windows to mirror the surroundings behind him checking to see if he had attracted the attention of the larger boys. He would also hurry across a street as the light was changing to lessen his chance of being followed.

Rule #7. Mac’s seventh rule is "avoid confrontations, especially with shopkeepers and larger boys."

Mac noticed the boy he was watching, seemed careful not to draw attention to himself, nor did he make his presence obvious to shopkeepers. It was like the boy was in plain sight all the time, but flying under the radar of the shopkeepers and larger boys. This method avoided contacts with the police, shopkeepers, and the larger boys.

Mac decided to incorporate each of these rules into his survival code while living on these streets.

After several hours of observation, hunger drove him to decide to put what he had learned into practice in hopes he might have money to buy something to eat.

At first things went slowly, and he became discouraged when he didn’t receive any money. But then things started picking up until he had nearly $4 in his pocket. That was enough to buy two hot dogs, and his stomach was screaming for food.

It was getting late and he hurried off to his favorite hot dog corner. There he ordered two hot dogs presenting $4 as payment.

The vendor smiled, took only $2, and fixed two hot dogs with everything for Mac. He handed the two loaded hot dogs to Mac along with a large coke, as he smiled saying,

The coke’s on me. I really appreciate your business and I’m pleased you remembered me. Sit on the curb and enjoy.

Mac sat on the curb by the vendor and savored each bite of the hot dogs. He swore that coke was the best drink he had ever had. But Mac had forgotten about the rule to be aware of his surroundings.

The bully and his two friends had seen him pay the vendor for the hot dogs, and then put some money back in his pocket. They were patiently waiting for the opportunity to take that money from him.

When he was finished, he thanked the vendor, and started off down the street. He never noticed the bully and his two friends across the street watching him. Nor did he notice his perfect timing as he left when traffic prevented bully and his friends from crossing the street. When traffic cleared and bully and his friends were able to cross the street in their attempt to follow Mac, Mac was nowhere in sight. Bully turned to his friends and said,

Tomorrow that asshole is toast, as the threesome turned, and began looking for another easy victim.

The very next morning, Mac got up while it was still dark. He made his way through the darkness to the only working faucet within the two block area. He stripped down, and washed himself as best he could. Then he washed out his clothes. Since he had no where to hang his clothes to dry, he put them back on.

When the sun finally came out, the warmth felt better than usual, and soon his clothes were almost dry. He then made his way down to the tourist area and applied the lessons he had learned. At first it seemed like everyone ignored him, but as the time went by, some people started slipping coins and even dollar bills discreetly into his hand.

The discreetness of those people told Mac they must be aware that the older boys preyed on the younger ones. Mac would then graciously thank the people, and slip the money into his pocket mimicking what he had learned from the other boy.

He had had a good day by late afternoon and had more than enough money to buy hot dogs from the kind vendor who had befriended him. He went looking for the hot dog vendor, and found him selling hot dogs a few blocks away. Mac walked up to him, and ordered two hot dogs. The vender was surprised to see Mac again, and asked,

Would you like the works?

Yes, please, Mac answered.

The vendor handed Mac the hot dogs and a coke saying,

The coke is on the house. Hot dogs and coke go together, don’t you think?

Thank you, Mac said as he handed the vendor the money, and accepted the coke with gratitude.

However, neither Mac, nor the hot dog vendor noticed that the ‘bully’ was watching, and saw Mac again pay for the hot dogs.

Sit down on the curb, and enjoy your food, the vendor said. You’ll be safe here.

Mac did just that, and for the first time since his mother died, he felt really safe under the vendor’s watchful eye. When he was done, he again thanked the vendor and started back to his hiding place.

As Mac started crossing an alley a few blocks away, someone grabbed his arm, and forcefully pulled him into an alley. He fought to break free, but the grip holding his arm was too strong. He was violently pulled into the darker section of the alley where no one would see him from the street.

The harder he fought the more powerful the grip on his arm became. Then he felt his head being struck over and over again by something very hard. He tried to block the object with his free hand, but by that time, he was beginning to feel stunned and weak. Then everything went black.

Bully stood over Mac’s unconscious body sprawled across the alley floor. The boy had only insults about Mac’s inability to adequately defend himself. This punk will never survive a month here he sneered. The boy then reached down, and quickly removed everything of value from Mac’s pockets including his mother’s necklace that could easily be pawned. Bully" looked down at Mac’s unconscious body with only contempt saying,

You’re too stupid and too weak to survive on these streets. You don’t belong here, and if you don’t wake up, maybe I’ve done you a favor.

Bully then turned, and hurried to the alley’s street entrance where his two companions were keeping watch. Rocky saw Bully flash coins and bills at his friends, and watched as they laughed before hurrying away.

Rocky knew Bully’s reputation for jumping the smaller boys, and taking everything they had of value. This Bully always gave his victims a severe beating whether they cooperated or not. Rocky knew another of Bully’s victims was now lying in that alley beaten unconscious.

Survival on these streets was virtually impossible unless the boy belonged to a gang for protection. He knew that Bully never attacked anyone belonging to a gang. Attacking a gang member demanded retribution that could easily leave him so badly injured he could not survive on his own. And in this world, there was no mercy, and no second chances.

Rocky hurried into the alley, almost afraid of what he would find. Rocky didn’t recognize Mac’s bloody face, and knew he must be new in this part of the neighborhood. He could see Mac had been brutally beaten about the head and shoulders. Rocky looked down into Mac’s open eyes, and could see that the pupils were not different sizes which he had learned to mean the boy had not suffered a concussion.

He could see swelling around the eyes, and his experience told him both eyes would soon be swollen shut. No one survived in this environment who couldn’t see and couldn’t run. This boy might be able to run, but not without eyes. Rocky knew Bully had not intended that this boy survive, and Rocky knew he wouldn’t survive without help.

The last time he helped a boy, that boy turned on him nearly getting him killed. He found that boy in the same condition as this one, and if he helped this boy, this boy would probably betray him too. Looking down at Mac, that experience began filling his memory.

That boy’s chances of survival were no better than this one’s. Rocky only helped the other boy because he didn’t want the boy’s death on his conscience should things go badly. So he took the boy to his hiding place, and nursed him back to health on the condition the boy would never reveal what Rocky had done. Rocky had only intended to help the boy as long as absolutely necessary, and no longer. Rocky had a reputation as a loner, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He had to take care of the boy much longer than he had planned because the boy refused to take responsibility for himself. He was too scared of being beaten again. Nevertheless, when he was well enough, Rocky showed him the door. The boy did not follow Rocky’s teaching or advice on how to survive the streets. He was too lazy and didn’t want to be self-reliant.

He relied on handouts, but his negative attitude made him a person people did not want to help. He found stealing less degrading and demanding than begging, and far easier than working. Then he made a serious mistake. He unwittingly stole from the most feared and notorious boy on the streets. The boy was known as ‘Diablo.’

Diablo earned the reputation of being the devil incarnate because everyone who challenged him was never heard from again. His reputation drew a lot of the boys living the streets to his side for protection. Diablo soon built the most dangerous, powerful and most feared gang on the streets. Everyone feared him, even the members of his own gang.

Rocky figured the boy must have a death wish stealing from a boy with Diablo’s reputation. Avoiding Diablo was a necessity to survival on these streets. An hour later, the boy was dragged before Diablo. Diablo asked the boy,

Why did you steal my shit?

At first, the boy denied any knowledge of the theft. But Diablo didn’t buy it, and after being tortured, the boy confessed,

Do you think I’m stupid enough to steal from you? I didn’t take your shit, but I know where some of it is.

Diablo had two of his meanest gang members accompany the boy. They returned within half an hour, not with some, but with all Diablo’s stolen property. As soon as Diablo confirmed everything had been returned, he turned to the boy saying,

Now it’s pay-up time. I’m going to make an example of you so everyone knows the consequences of stealing from me.

The boy immediately cowered in fear, and cried,

I didn’t take your shit, but I know who did.

Diablo asked, Who did? When the boy failed to respond, Diablo punched him squarely in the jaw so forcefully that the impact literally lifted the boy off his feet, propelled him across the room, and slammed his body hard into the opposite wall. His body then fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. He was so stunned that he nearly lost consciousness.

He was immediately yanked to his feet by two of Diablo’s gang members, and a bucket of water poured over his head. In fear he was going to be killed, the boy screamed,

My friend took your shit. I didn’t want to rat on a friend because he saved my life. I’ll take you to him.

The boy led Diablo, and his gang, to Rocky’s hiding place, but Rocky wasn’t there. It wasn’t long before Rocky became aware that Diablo, and his gang, were looking for him.

Rather than wait for them to find him, Rocky boldly walked past Diablo’s gang members, and right up to Diablo. Rocky looked Diablo in the eyes, and said,

I hear you’re looking for me.

Diablo turned to the boy and said,

Is this the guy who stole my shit?

The boy nodded weakly unable to meet Rocky’s gaze.

You’ve got some set of balls walking in here like this, Diablo said. Why did you steal my shit?

I didn’t steal your shit, Rocky said with an edge of steel in his voice, and no hint of intimidation.

Man, you’re some piece of work, Diablo replied with a touch of admiration.

If you didn’t steal my shit, who did? Diablo demanded.

I’m no snitch either, Rocky replied.

Diablo not only was impressed by the fact that Rocky came to him, but he was even more impressed by the fact he was unwilling to finger the real thief.

This impressed Diablo immensely. But nevertheless, Diablo motioned for two boys to hold Rocky while Diablo proceeded to beat Rocky about the face and upper body.

Diablo was further impressed that Rocky didn’t flinch, show any fear, and never cried out with pain. Diablo then paused for a moment asking,

Why did you steal my shit?

Again, Rocky answered,

I’m no thief. I didn’t’ steal your shit.

If you didn’t steal my shit, you tell me who did or you’ll be experiencing some real pain.

I won’t tell you shit, Rocky stated as a matter of fact.

Is this the kid who stole my shit? Diablo asked as he motioned for the boy to be brought forward.

Rocky refused to answer.

As the boy looked at Rocky’s bloody nose and mouth, Diablo asked,

For the last time, is the asshole who stole my shit?

When the boy didn’t answer, Diablo walked over to him, and kicked him hard in the groin. The boy doubled over nearly passing out from the pain. Diablo towered over the boy demanding,

Who stole my shit?

The boy pointed at Rocky saying, He did. He promised to share it with me if I kept my mouth shut. Like I told you, he saved my life. I couldn’t’ snitch on him.

Diablo turned to Rocky, but Rocky’s face was stoic and unreadable. Then he turned back to the boy and said,

You stole my stuff, and you were willing to sacrifice the boy who saved your life, to save yourself? Even if you’re telling the truth, the fact that you knew where my shit was hidden makes you just as guilty as the one who stole it.

He saved my life, the boy replied. You don’t snitch on someone who saved your life.

But you did, didn’t you? Diablo replied. You were so gutless you were willing to sacrifice the very person who saved your life, to save your own ass. I believe this guy when he says he didn’t steal my shit. And I respect the fact that he refused to snitch on you even when you were more than willing to have him take the fall for you.

The boy said nothing in response. Diablo then turned to Rocky, and said,

Why didn’t you run when you heard I was looking for you? You certainly had time.

I’ve learned a long time ago never to run from trouble, Rocky replied. Trouble always has a way of finding you.

Diablo said to Rocky,

I’ve known very few people like you, but my experience with such people is that they will always admit what they’ve done, no matter what the consequences. And that type will never let someone else take the fall for them. In contrast, your friend over there reminds me of a weasel that’s willing to do anything to save himself. Even sell out his only friend, in this case the friend who saved his life. Isn’t that true?

When Rocky said nothing, Diablo turned to the boy, and said,

This is your last chance to tell me the truth. It was you who stole my shit, wasn’t it? Tell me or I’ll beat the living shit out of you!

I took it, the boy confessed. Rocky never knew anything about it. But, I didn’t know I was stealing from you. If I knew it were your shit, I’d never have touched it.

Hold him, Diablo ordered. I’ll deal with him later. Diablo then turned to Rocky with a hard look, as he said,

"You knew this little weasel stole my shit, but you refused to rat on him. That’s enough for me to order my guys to kick the living shit out of you. The only reason that’s not going to happen this time is because I respect the fact that even though this asshole tried to pin this wrap on you, you still refused to expose him. I respect you for that, and I respect the fact that when you heard I was looking for you, you came to me so I didn’t have to hunt you down.

I don’t know what your real name is, but you’ve got balls as big as that guy in that movie called ‘Rocky.’" Diablo then turned to his gang and said,

This is my friend. From this day forward he’ll be known as ‘Rocky.’ Everyone will treat him with the same dignity and respect you show me, or I’ll kick the living shit out of each of you. Disrespect him, and you’re disrespecting me. You all know the consequences!

Diablo then turned to Rocky and said,

It’s time for you to leave because I’ve got some business to finish. You need something, anything, you come to me. My door is always open to you. Now get the hell out of here.

Rocky turned and walked out with dignity. Everyone there showed him the same respect due Diablo, and did so from that day forward.

CHAPTER 2

Rocky

R ocky had achieved on that day what was the envy of everyone living on those streets, the respect and support of Diablo. From that day forward, Rocky was under Diablo’s protection, and no one dared hassle or bother him. Life had suddenly become much easier under Diablo’s protection. The friend who betrayed Rocky was never seen or heard from again. Neither was Diablo ever stolen from again.

A year later, Diablo was shot and killed in a gang fight down on the docks. Rocky remembers Diablo with respect because Diablo proved a good friend, who Rocky could always count on, and who never let Rocky down. When times got hard on the street, Diablo was always there with help, and never made even one demand in return. Diablo was the only real friend that Rocky had ever known, and he respected the man’s memory.

Rocky looked down at the seemingly lifeless body before him, and for some unexplainable reason, he wanted to help this boy out of respect to Diablo.

Rocky considered helping others a serious weakness because mutually beneficial pacts and friendships created entanglements and obligations that reduces one’s ability to make decisions that best benefit them. Instead, the impact of that decision on the others must be considered and that not only required time, but limited one’s options to act in one’s own best interests. The price may have dire consequences on one’s survival.

Rocky knew he must make the condition of anonymity a requirement to protect both this boy and himself. And as soon as this boy was able to take care of himself, he would be on his own. Then Rocky would return to his time tested routine, free of complication, conflict, and entanglements.

Rocky also knew he would have to get this boy to a place of safety. Since he couldn’t be seen with the boy, he would have move him in the dead of night. That would be difficult if he were still unconscious. Rocky found a place where he could watch the boy without being seen. He waited for dead of night hoping the boy would regain consciousness so he would have the boy’s help to move him to safety.

It was early morning hours before the streets were completely quiet enough for Rocky to move the boy unseen. Rocky was about to approach the boy when the boy regained consciousness. Rocky watched Mac as he tried to sit up in obvious pain.

Rocky started to walk over to the boy, but the boy heard his footsteps. He drew back in fear he was being approached by his attackers. Rocky tried to assure the boy he intended him no harm saying,

"I didn’t do this to you. I’m here to help if you will let me. You took quite a beating, and there’s so much swelling around your eyes that they’ll probably be swollen shut before long. There’s no way you can survive on your own without eyesight.

I’m going to help you on the condition that you promise never tell anyone of my help. As soon as you are well enough to care for yourself, you will leave, and your survival will be your own affair. I will help you no further. You must promise me to keep our relationship a secret. Do I have your promise?"

Mac felt disorientated, and his head was throbbing in pain. His chest felt like it had been caved in, and there wasn’t a place on his face that wasn’t painful.

He tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn’t open enough for him to see the boy who was talking to him. He knew he couldn’t survive in this condition without help. Mac agreed to Rocky’s demands, and then asked,

Did they take everything?

I don’t know, Rocky answered. But I can’t imagine that kid would leave anything behind. I’m sure the money I saw in his hands was yours.

Why do you want to help me? Mac asked.

I don’t really know, Rocky answered honestly. Guess I don’t want your death on my conscience, and maybe it’s my way of paying back an old friend. If I help you, can you get to your feet and walk?

Mac tried to get to his feet, but couldn’t. Rocky helped him to his feet and then assisted him to his safe place, careful to avoid being seen by anyone else. Every step was more painful to Mac than the last. When they finally arrived, Mac collapsed on a thin mattress out of sheer exhaustion, and slipped off to sleep.

It wasn’t until late the next afternoon that Mac awoke again. Mac was scared as he felt the warmth of the sun on his face, but he couldn’t see. Rocky assured him,

It’s going to take a couple of days for the swelling around your eyes to go down enough to restore some of your sight. You’ll be all right then, but you have to be patient for now.

Rocky put a tin can of water to Mac’s lips and he drank. Then Rocky gave Mac some food, which he quickly devoured out of pure hunger. Mac again drifted off into sleep exhausted.

When Mac awoke several hours later, he asked,

What do I call you?

You can call me Rocky, the boy answered.

Why are you helping me? Mac asked.

I already told you I don’t know, Rocky answered. Maybe I just feel sorry for you. Isn’t that enough?

Mac tried to sit up, but a deep stabbing pain in his side and another in his chest forced him back down. When he was finally able to sit up, Rocky gave Mac some water and some food. Sitting up, eating and drinking exhausted Mac so he lay back down. He quickly drifted off to sleep. This time, his dreams turned to memories of his mother.

In his dream, Mac could see his mother standing before him, and telling him stories that transported them both from the reality that was their life to that created by her.

The stories gave him a new perspective of thinking, and showed him that life can be much more than the life he knew. The stories also told him that through hard work, courage and dedication, he had the power to change his life into a better one of his choosing.

His mother taught him the key to a new and better life was hard work, determination, dedication and knowledge.

He dreamed of the many hours he and his mother had spent at the library where she would read to him from an almost inexhaustible supply of literature. She also encouraged him to read for himself. She always used to say,

Don’t believe everything you’re told, not even what I tell you. Information is available on almost every topic. Today you can verify the truth or falsity of nearly any statement. She taught him how to research issues at the library. She wanted him to be literate, and demonstrated that library literature was an excellent source of knowledge. She encouraged him to be self-taught reminding him, Knowledge is the key to your better future."

When Mac next awoke, it was nighttime. Rocky said to him,

Glad to see you’re finally awake. I made a kind of broth because you seemed to have such difficulty eating solid food. I don’t think you have any broken bones and you don’t seem to have any trouble breathing. You need food if you’re going to get your strength back, as Rocky held the cup of broth in one hand and spoon fed Mac with the other.

Mac found he was very hungry, and when he had swallowed most of the broth, Rocky asked,

What is your name?

My name is Mac, he replied. And you are Rocky.

That’s right, Rocky replied.

Thanks, Rocky, Mac stated with sincerity. He wanted to talk more, but his need for sleep was too great. As he drifted off to sleep, he remembered his mother talking about his father, and how different their backgrounds were as he remembered her saying,

"I was a young Psychology college student when I married your father. I was working on my master’s thesis. I believed that a wealthy, highly educated, and socially elite person could build a successful marriage with another person born to poverty with little to no education.

I believed if two people were so committed to their love for each other that such a love could weather and overcome all obstacles imposed by either world. In fact, if their love and commitment to each other was so strong that their bonds of love were unbreakable, their two different worlds would be forced to accept them, and their love for each other without reservation.

When I first started discussing my ideas with your father, he expressed genuine doubts, and time proved he was mostly right."

Mac never fully understood what his mother was trying to tell him, but he did remember her telling him,

"I interviewed people from both sides of that issue, local Longshoremen and their families, and my friends at school. The consensus was that I was an unrealistic dreamer, so this became a real challenge to me. I met your father working the docks. He was one of the few men working there who would even allow me to interview him on this topic, let alone consider both sides of the issue. Unlike the majority who believed I was only a foolish young rich girl lacking common sense and knowing nothing about real life, your father was always willing to patiently listen to my ideas.

I found him an excellent resource for my thesis and his intellect, insights, and understanding lent credence to my thesis’ premise. He agreed that the basic needs of all people in a loving relationship are the same, regardless of their income levels and education.

A successful and happy marriage is not limited by the doors of opportunity created by economic and social advantage, but by both marriage partners consistently placing their commitment to the success of their marriage and the best interests of their marriage partner, before those of their own.

We spent so much time together that before we realized it, we had fallen in love. My parents found out about us, and forbade me to see him again. We were too committed to each other to stop, and we started meeting secretly spending as much time as we could together.

One night we lost all reason, and spent the night together. I became pregnant, and we decided my parents needed to know. We went to talk to them, but my father threw your father out of his house before we could tell them. He was so furious that I never told either of my parents I was pregnant.

When my parents made arrangements to have me stay with relatives some distance away, in order to make our seeing each other impossible, I ran away. We were married. Life was hard for me because I had never had to make do with so little.

Every day was a struggle just to put food on the table. We never regretted having you, Mac. You were the light of both our lives. I never told my parents about you because I felt if they could disown me so easily, they would easily do the same to you. I didn’t want you to go through that heartache.

Your father was a good man who worked very hard on the docks. One day his friends talked him into representing their views before union management. At first his ideas met with some success when the union management agreed to make changes to better benefit its members.

But soon the union tired of his suggestions, and also began disregarding all the promises they had made to him. When nothing changed, your father started organizing the membership to back reform. When the membership started rallying behind your father, union management became angry and held your father personally responsible for the growing anger and demands of the union membership. Your father was soon running for union office with strong membership support that ensured his election. Before elections and just before your first birthday, your father left for work, and never came home.

People say he must have run off,