Dream Catcher

By D. Jeremy Doraido

David is only nine when Dad drowns on the last day of vacation. Haunted by what he witnessed, he thinks life can’t get any worse. That is until Mom marries Mr. Fulton, Dad’s business partner, a much older man. To escape the beatings and verbal abuse, David runs away for the sixth time. He is placed in foster care at the age of almost thirteen, until the Court can find out whom to blame. For a boy that has been accused of lying and stealing, no one will believe what he heard Mr. Fulton saying on the phone about his business dealings.

DREAM CATCHER is a Christian novel that won second place with the West Virginia Writers Inc.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Nov 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483440255

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DORAIDO

Copyright © 2015 D. Jeremy Doraido.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission. NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION® and NIV® are registered trademarks of Biblica, Inc. Use of either trademark for the offering of goods or services requires the prior written consent of Biblica US, Inc.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4026-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4025-5 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Picture of Rearing White Horse by Morgan E. Reiter

of Flying Duck Horse Farm And Sanctuary. Dream Catcher added by D. Jeremy Doraido.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 12/11/2015

CONTENTS

Chapter 1   Whitehorse

Chapter 2   First Night

Chapter 3   Court

Chapter 4   The Mall

Chapter 5   Physics Class

Chapter 6   Candy Dish

Chapter 7   Ghost Stories

Chapter 8   The Closet

Chapter 9   The Jacket

Chapter 10   Hazelwood

Chapter 11   Rip Tide

Chapter 12   Jean Fulton

Chapter 13   Native American

Chapter 14   Second Chance

Chapter 15   Normal Kid

Chapter 16   Ice Cream Parlor

Chapter 17   Ms. Snyder

Chapter 18   Bachelor Father

Chapter 19   Basketball

Chapter 20   Wedding Band

Chapter 21   Visit Home

Chapter 22   Dinner Guest

Chapter 23   Art Lesson

Chapter 24   Father’s Gift

Chapter 25   Attack!

Chapter 26   Don’t Die, Dad!

Chapter 27   Rescued

Chapter 28   New Family

Chapter 29   Promise Kept

Dedicated to my family - Vern, John, Kelly, Dave, Taylor, Morgan and Madie who endured my writing.

In memory of Doris Coleman, my mother, who listened for years.

And in memory of Doug Thomas who offered technical advice.

CHAPTER 1

Whitehorse

Rain streaked the windows of the police car. David sat in the back seat staring out into the darkness, as they waited for the second policeman to return from making a phone call. Mr. Frank couldn’t accuse him of crying like a baby. Not again!

Were you able to reach his parents? the driver asked, as his partner climbed in the passenger side.

For what it was worth, the policeman replied, closing the car door. His father doesn’t want him to come home.

Now what? Do we take him to juvenile detention?

We’re to stop and pick up his school books and clothes. Social Services is arranging foster care. The officer in the passenger’s seat turned sideways. The name on his uniform was Barton. How old are you, David?

Twelve, sir, he replied in a firm voice.

Your dad claims you stole a hundred dollars from his wallet. This isn’t the first time. He isn’t pressing charges, but he won’t allow us to take you home.

David stared at the man, never blinking.

Aren’t you cold, son?

I’m okay, sir. His wet jeans and soaked sweat shirt made him shiver, but he didn’t want anything from either of them.

Do we have a blanket, Wolf?

In the trunk. I’ll get it, the driver replied, putting on his hat and opening the door.

Where’s the money, son?

I don’t have it.

Did you stash it?

No, sir.

Are things bad at home? Do you and your dad argue?

He’s my step-father!

Do you argue?

No sir.

Mr. Frank didn’t tolerate back talk. He was always right. At least that’s what he thought. David was afraid to question him about anything. The man was large and had an ugly temper.

Why did you run away from home?

David shrugged his shoulders.

Put this around yourself, the driver said, opening the car door and handing the blanket to him.

Before David could refuse, Wolf slammed it closed. Reluctantly, David wrapped the heavy, brown blanket about his shoulders.

Your father claims you struck him. Did you? Barton asked.

I don’t remember.

What did you do with the money?

I didn’t take it, sir.

Barton looked at his partner. Let’s go. I’m not getting anywhere.

He’s been stealing from his father, again?

It wasn’t the first time Mr. Frank had called the police on him. Officers Barton and Wolf had been to their home at least two other times that month. There had been threats, but they hadn’t arrested him or anything.

Barton glanced back at him seated behind the metal screen. David bowed his head. The man thought he was a liar.

Officer Wolf pulled the police car into the driveway. The garage door was open. The overhead light was still on. Someone had just pulled in, but they had gone in the house.

Wait here, Barton said, putting on his hat.

David pulled the blanket up and stared straight ahead.

Don’t you want to apologize and go home? Officer Wolf asked. Maybe if you give the money back…

I don’t have it!

Don’t get smart with me, boy!

David heard Mr. Frank threatening him. He closed his eyes and waited for the slap on his cheek. Or worse, the sting of the belt. His thoughts were about the summers Mom and Dad took him to the beach. Dreams were all he had left. Dad was gone. Only Mom went out with Mr. Frank. Actually, David liked it when the two of them went some place and left him at home by himself. It was scary being locked in, but quiet.

Barton slammed the trunk closed, then opened the car door and got into the front seat. Wolf began backing out of the driveway.

Now where? Wolf asked.

Whitehorse.

David watched the two men exchange looks, but he couldn’t interpret their meaning. Any place had to be better than home; anyone better than Mr. Frank. What was Whitehorse? Were they taking him to a school for delinquents? He was tough. He could survive. If he managed to live with Mr. Frank, he could endure anything or anyone. Even Whitehorse. Whatever that was.

Traffic was heavy. He saw a few familiar places; his school, the food store, Church. He hadn’t been to Church since the funeral. Mr. Frank didn’t believe in organized religions. They passed the bank where Mom worked.

Your father said you’re thirteen next month. That’s fairly close. Most kids would have said they were thirteen already.

David didn’t answer Barton. What was there to say?

Is someone from Social Services going to meet us? Officer Wolf asked.

They’re sending Miller.

Was Whitehorse his idea?

Considering the situation, yes.

The car left the part of town David knew. The rain drummed on the roof. He could barely hear what the two men were saying. And he didn’t care. David was exhausted. It had been a terrible day. The worse he could remember for a long time.

What good was thirteen? He was still a minor. He couldn’t live alone and support himself. Mr. Frank was still his legal guardian. Hadn’t the man told him so at least once a day? Especially when Mom was at work and they were home alone.

David shivered.

The car made a left off the dual highway onto a side road. After about a quarter mile, they turned right. David watched as they passed through an entrance to Benedict Hall. Mr. Frank would never agree to pay for him to attend the private school for boys. Someone had made a mistake.

There’s Miller’s car, Barton said. Pull up beside him.

A tiny weasel of a man, dressed in a gray suit and shiny black shoes, emerged from the yellow van. Quickly, he opened an umbrella, then tapped on the window of the police car. Barton rolled it down.

Bring the boy. Mr. Miller’s voice sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Though the policemen told him to keep the blanket, David left it on the seat. The rain drenched his clothes again. What did it matter? Mr. Frank didn’t care. If he did, he wouldn’t have thrown his step-son out in the rain.

Wolf carried a cardboard box containing David’s clothes. David slung his backpack over his right shoulder. Barton took hold of his arm and walked him up the steps to the brick apartment building. Mr. Miller scurried ahead, eager to be out of the rain. He waited for them just inside the door.

Nasty night! Mr. Miller said, leaning his dripping umbrella up against the wall. Bring him along.

The three men surrounded David, guiding him down the hallway past closed doors. A sign posted on the elevator read, out-of-order. Mr. Miller pursed his lips and shook his head, then set off towards the steps.

David shivered, again, but didn’t say anything.

They passed a clock which read, nine-thirty. Almost bedtime, David thought to himself. Just to sleep and forget all the yelling and arguments. His stomach growled.

They climbed two flights of stairs, not pausing for even the landings. Mr. Miller was breathing hard, but he started down the hallway. David wondered if he had eaten dinner.

The adults stopped at a door. Mr. Miller rang the doorbell. The backpack fell from David’s hand and he turned to flee. Wolf caught up with him at the steps. David struggled to get away, but Wolf pinned his right arm up behind his back and walked him down the hall. David decided it was useless to argue with him, so he closed his mouth. But he was scared to death.

Barton stood in the hallway watching them approach. David wondered what the man was thinking.

Mr. Miller was in the apartment. He came to the door and said, Bring him in. Come on. It’s getting late.

Wolf released his arm. Pick up your backpack. Don’t try that again, son. Whitehorse doesn’t put up with foolishness.

David reached down and picked it up without a word.

The two policemen followed David into the apartment and closed the door. David dropped the pack on the floor at his feet. His clothes formed a puddle on the tile floor. Wolf stood guard by the door. David suspected they thought he might try to run. He didn’t dare move. They were stronger than Mr. Frank and faster. Arms hanging at his sides, he stared straight ahead, ignoring the adults.

For the first year after Dad died, David waited for him to return home. Then Mr. Frank married Mom, and David escaped to his own world.

Wake up, boy! Mr. Miller said.

David jumped, startled back to reality.

This is Mr. Mark Whitehorse. He has agreed to give you a temporary home until we can work things out.

The tall, muscular, dark haired man stood looking down at him. Silently,