(...)


Dobromil, at the moment, wasn't dancing. He wasn't even doing his exercises. He was hopping from one foot to another chewing on his thumbnail. The best way to keep a secret is tell a few people who could help you cover, but even he knew that his current secret couldn't stay a secret for very long because it would be Bad. With a capital B. He needed someone sensible, tough to find with the Wolfs but Caroll had said that Don was probably the most sensible a Wolf he could get at the moment and actually had some experience with adopting boys. So he had to talk to Don.

Suffice it to say: the boy was a bit nervous. What if he'd screwed up?

The best place to find Don was at his house. He was one of the few Wolves who didn’t practically lived at the pub, preferring to take care of his men and the house. With Garreth –or Gary– living on his own now, he had more space in his home. He and Speedy had been together for a very long time, and even longer he lived with Bear and Jumbo. Don was wearing three wedding rings. They were the first foursome the gang had.
Speedy had been taken in their household when he was fifteen, and a runaway. Gary was Speedy’s brother who also fled from their parents, and taken in for adoption without hesitation and a bit of help from Lin and the law.
Don was strict, stern, but his heart was big enough to love many people.

It took a moment for Dobromil to gather his courage. Or more like fifteen minutes. What if he got blamed for not asking for help for the boy sooner? He didn't want to get the people angry with him who were keeping a roof over his head! Finally, biting his bottom lip, the Czech dancer dared to ring the doorbell and waited, hoping someone was even home.

Don opened the door, carrying a dust cloth and a feather duster. Perhaps he had been dusting, who could tell with Wolves. In Don’s case, it meant he was a bit bored, as he hated dusting. His face brightened up when he saw Dobromil. “Hey! What a surprise. Come in, don’t you stand there, it’s time for tea.” And an ear, he supposed. All Wolves talked to him when they were in trouble, he was their mum in a way. He knew all secrets.

Dobromil had to stop and blink at the duster. He'd seen an act once with something just as feathery, had even tried to replicate it but it was very hard to keep hold of a pole when you were also trying not to giggle. They tickled! "No no, no tea. No time. Is little boy in trouble, yes no? I tell him, I go get someone but we wait long he run. Little... what word?" He was going for skittish. "Rabbitty? You time now? Please?" He even consciously pouted to get his point across.

Don blinked a few times, mouth moving as he tried to make sense of the broken English. “Oh… There’s a boy in trouble and you’ve told him you’ll get some help, and if we don't hurry he’ll be running away.” Don nodded, threw his stuff on a table in the hall, and took his coat. “Can’t have that, running boys. I’ve seen enough of those in my time of life. Shall we take the car?”

The next thing on Dobromil's list of things to do was quickly becoming getting Dutch classes. Or English, whatever would work best. That and burn all Lassie tapes he'd ever come across.

"Yes yes, thank you much," Dobromil smiled thankfully, "he little boy-" he held his hand up to indicate just how tall and the boy couldn't even be a teenager yet, "-I tell him wait in park, hope he still there." Though he had promised a chocolate bar if he staid put and near where the families were with their children so he couldn't possibly get into a lot of trouble.

“You left a kid in a park?” Now Don was really hurrying. He locked the door and grabbed Dobromil’s arm, tugging him to the large, old car. “Get in. What park? Is it far?” He was ready to give a general alarm, memories of Bae being kidnapped and paralyzed for life flashing by. “Is he your kid?” Details would follow, but why not ask more as he drove off?

"I try make him come, but he no want," Dobromil tried to defend himself and told Don where they were supposed to go, it was a park near a primary school, "dragging kicking screaming kid with you, no good. People no like that and Lin no in country and I no want trouble with police. So I tell him, stay in park, park big grass area anyway, lotsa people with kids so I tell one teacher man who there, I ask him he look after him because I have family emergency with lotsa blood but be back real soon. And no my kid, he from Ethi... Ethi... Ethiopia! Yes, human traders, know them? They took him here for America but he fake sick so they dump,-" they'd still beaten the hell out of the kid to ensure he wouldn't blab before they'd get out of the country "-and he live on streets big while now. Is no good for kid, little pickpocket."

That was incidentally how Dobromil and the boy had met when he'd tried to pick the Czech's pocket and failed. Somehow that ended up with Dobromil sneaking the kid food and warmer clothes while trying to gain his trust. The dancer was no idiot, the boy had no reason to trust him and making the kid go somewhere where he didn't want to go was only going to make him run. That was the last thing anyone needed.

"I try make him trust me, yes. I test, bring Caroll and see him, see if he trust me to let more people know. He does, so now I get real help. Real help is you. You know more stuff than me, more than Caroll with this too." At least, that was what Dobromil was assuming. He knew next to nothing about immigration laws and the only reason he was legal was because his ex had had some friends in high places who owed him.

After making sense of it all, Don groaned softly. “Ever heard of our hostel Feniks? Next time you’ll bring him there, and Blacky and Midnight will look after him.” Of course he knew the kid would have tried to run, but anything would be better than asking another stranger to take an eye on him while you went for help. “Alright, so we’re here now, show me where he is…” Combing his long hair, trying to look harmless –that was easy– he got out and waited.

Dobromil almost, almost pouted but felt that it wouldn't help his case at all. He thought that he'd heard they had no more space there. Yup, lesson classes were needed, just a way to pay for them now. He got out of the car and looked around. It didn't take more than a second to find the large, brown-haired teacher he'd left in charge of the boy and not far from his side was the kid. The boy could hardly be older than eight -maybe even a bit younger- and that idea was only enhanced by wearing clothes which had to be at least a size or two too big for him. The boy seemed to be having fun 'helping' the twelve-year-olds the teacher was already in charge of with catching water bugs and the sort.

"That him, that Desta," Dobromil gestured at the Ethiopian child before he began to walk to them.

The teacher noticed them first and stuck up his hand with a smile. "How's the emergency?" he asked.

"Nico now know running with scissors be bad. He to emergency room now for the stitches. Friend took him. Thank you for the looking after Desta. Oh, yes," he'd forgotten something, "This be friend Don Swartz. Don, this new friend Benjamin Zabat." The name sounded funny coming from the Czech.

Desta had looked up when he heard Dobromil but didn't move from where he was. Instead, he looked at Don like he was trying to size him up. That look quickly dissolved once Dobromil got to the friend part. "Hello," he made a little wave at Don.

The child's English was better than Dobromil's. The people who had wanted to bring him to America and sell him there had taught him. No one wanted a boy they couldn't understand.

Don looked from Benjamin to Desta, with the caution all Wolves had obtained through the years. His gray eyes were all innocence and openness though, his face one to be trusted, which was why he was so successful in his job –Don was a psychiatrist. “Hi,” he said with a soft tone of voice and a warm, disarming smile. “I'm Dobromil’s friend.” He ignored the ‘Nick’ having ‘stitches’ part, and turned to Desta, kneeling down. “Hey, big guy! How are you doing?”

Desta pulled his fishing net out of the water, there was nothing in it. "I'm good," the boy answered Don's question with a hint of caution in his voice. His eyes turned toward Dobromil to see what the Czech said, but the dancer only smile and nodded. So far, Dobromil had been nice to him and helped him out, so Desta was willing to trust his friends. A little. Oh wait. The polite thing. "How are you, sir?" Polite was better, it made people be less cautious and that made it easier to nick wallets.

“I’m okay,” nodded Don, all smile. “But I heard you were here on your own, endangering my city. Can’t have that, can we? It would make my men all twitchy and nervous, having such a danger around. They’re quite attached to their wallets…” Don’s eyes hardened only a fraction of a second, showing Desta he wasn’t to be sneezed at. He stood up, and turned to Benjamin. “I never saw you around…” he remarked slowly. Don knew everybody; it was something he was known for. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

Oh dammit. Wouldn't have been any use anyway. If Dobromil caught him nicking wallets he always made him give it back. Desta crossed his arms and made to say something when Don turned his back to talk to Benjamin. Fine then. He had more bugs to catch anyway! One could say that he felt a bit offended.

"Reasonably new, yeah," Benjamin shrugged, "Why?" This was a city, new people moving in and out every day for all that he knew.

“Oh nice,” sighed Don, rolling his eyes. “Two enemies in only a few sentences. Wonderful. All those newcomers…” He grumbled a bit, crossing his arms. Sometimes, Wolves seemed far too soft; ever since those Confederates were either killed or gone the citizens had become slack. “This is Amersfoort,” he explained patiently. “Not just any old city. We like to know how hangs around, and you’re no tourist. You’re working, so you live here… Welcome!” he added completely out of place. He needed some assistance, dammit…

"I didn't mean it like that," Benjamin tried to improve the situation, "I get short when I have less than four hours of sleep. I didn't mean to offend you." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry?" He knew that Amersfoort was not any old city, but as far as he knew that didn't particularly cause stagnation in the influx of new people.

Dobromil looked between Don and Benjamin. Oh this was going great. Way to go Dobromil, but now he was being sarcastic. "Desta, you here now. I tell you, you be polite. Not everyone bad for you."

Don slowly dragged a hand down his face. Back in the old days it seemed so much easier to get along with people… He was getting old. “It’s okay,” he nodded. “Sorry. Sometimes I get a bit annoyed for no apparent reason.” Assistance. Definitely. Or just ignoring the guy, although he looked very nice… “Desta! Care for a ride? We’ll take you somewhere warm, and give you a bath and fitting clothes. How’s that?”

"So we're both sorry," Benjamin laughed, "alright if everything is taken... MARIANNE! Your mother will have my hide if you step into the water and I am attached to it." The primary school teacher was beginning to realize why none of the other teachers had volunteered to watch over this particular group.

In the meanwhile, Desta did not look so happy at the prospect of a bath. "But it rained yesterday, I'm clean!"

“Rain makes you wet, not clean,” smirked Don. Oh Gods, who did he know, willing to assist him with a kid that age? A few Wolves had some experience with little brothers or even Mouse, but Don really began to feel he was getting too old for the job. “Listen, I have a very sweet friend who will be home very soon. I would like you to meet him, but you have to be a bit less scrubby for that. He’s very special.” Why, why were both Bobby and Major away? They should be home soon… They just had to. But since they weren’t there… “Blacky,” he said, pushing his earphone. “Assistance please, in the park…? Young stray…”

Benjamin had luckily wandered away to break up one of the girls fighting with one of the boys who had dared to inform her that girls were not allowed to catch bugs because they were girls. Luckily, because the next thing that came out would have at least raised some eyebrows. "You're not gonna try and sell me, are you?" Desta asked. He hadn't liked that, those people were mean and rough with him. Even at eight, Desta knew that there were more people like that and they were best to be avoided.

"Desta," Dobromil tried to appease the boy a bit, "I tell you, good people here. We help, yes? I good people, Wolves good people. You no live on street, no good for no one. You need home."

“No,” said Don with a raised eyebrow. “We’re not going to sell you. I promise you that. Dobromil will come with us, you won’t be alone with me.” He turned to the Czech. “Maybe you can pick him up and bring him to the car?”

Just as he spoke, a very colorful trike drove straight through the park, stopping nearby. An even more colorful man, in jeans, sneakers, brightly colored jacket and a tie-dyed scarf around his head, stepped off. “Hello there, people!” he said cheerfully, with a broad, white grin. “Have no fear, Blacky is here! Hi little fellow… What’s all this commotion about? How can a little guy like you stress out so many grown-ups?”

Little? Little?! "I'm eight," Desta said with emphasis, "I'm not little." He tried to glare up at the new one, but something about the sheer brightness of his clothes and the broad grin rendered the boy unable to do so. But he wasn't little! He was... not big and that was a completely different thing so there.

Dobromil had actually not looked forward to picking the boy up. He'd tried it once and had certainly felt it when Desta had done his very best to bit through the dancer's jacket.

"I'm much taller than you," winked Blacky, his permanent grin even broader. "But alright, medium-big fellow, how about a ride on my trike to my hostel? I have a place with many more medium-sized guys like you. They're all strays, run-aways, orphans... What do you say? Does a nice warm bath and a soft bed for you and you alone appeal to you?"

That was true. And the offer of a nice bed was tempting. The things Dobromil had smuggled him were nice but a real bed was better. Desta still wasn't too fond of the bath idea, but he figured that sacrifices could be made for the actual goal. "Sure," he nodded.

"Don?" Dobromil tried, "still problem. He no legal in country and I no know how make him legal."

Don was about to groan again, but Blacky beat him to it. "Oh dear!" he then said as cheerfully as ever. "Lucky we have Feniks, eh? Come on, Desta, time to meet my family!"

The smaller Wolf beckoned Dobromil. "We can take care of that. Until Lin is home, we'll have him at Feniks, and no one will try and get him back." He looked over his shoulder to the stranger with the long hari, busying about to keep all the kids in line. Hm... no, strangers weren't bad, he wouldn't say anything about it. They were always on their guard anyway.
"Thank you!" he called out. "We'll be going now. If you care for a drink, we can pay you back at the Blue Ardvark in town."

Benjamin looked up in slight surprise when he was called out to again. "One little hellion more doesn't make a difference," he called back. People tended to get upset when you turned up with one less kid than you had left with. Something about responsibility and then some.

Relieved that they could take care of that issue, Dobromil quieted down. If they wanted to know more about the kid they could ask Desta, the boy could tell it better anyway and he knew it better too. "What's Feniks like?" Desta asked, a bit curious about the place they'd take him to now.

Blacky walked to his trike, pulling on gloves. “Feniks is the home I founded for kids like I used to be once,” he said. “Guys your age, mainly, who have nothing to live for, no one to love, and who try to survive in the streets. I give them a warm home until they can live more pleasantly on their own. You’ll see; it’s a happy home.” With Midnight to boss around, he added in his thoughts. Blacky was far too good for this world. Without his husband, Feniks would have been far too crowded and no one would ever leave.

Desta followed, as quickly as he could without stumbling on his shoes which, just like his clothes, were too big and unlike his clothes rather worn out. "Are there toys?" Desta was becoming a bit more excited at the prospect of going to this place, "and do I really get a bed all to my own?" That had literally never happened, the last places he'd slept hadn't been beds so they didn't count. "And good food? Not always the same stuff?"

“You’ll have a whole room for yourself, with a shared bathroom in the corridor,” smiled Blacky. “Your own bed, your own wardrobe, and as many toys you like. There’s a shared kitchen and lounge, where you’ll have your meals with the others, and my husband Midnight is the cook.” Blacky still loved to call Midnight his husband. It took him more than ten years to get him to marry him. “Sounds good? Then let’s go, hm?”

It sounded better than good and Desta was having a great deal of trouble believing Blacky. Finally, he decided that he would see it first and then believe it. Why were people doing all this for him now? Sure, Dobromil had given him stuff and brought help, but he thought that the Czech wasn't all there. "Yes, let's go," the boy nodded eagerly. He wanted to see this place and poke it to see if it was real.

While Don took Dobromil with him in the car –questioning about how the Czech had ever found that kid– Blacky took the boy with him on his trike. He drove carefully, so he wouldn’t scare him, but it was a boy after all, so he figured he would be alright. “Do you like bikes?” he asked over his shoulder. “I’m member of a biker gang. We call ourselves Wolves, and we’re all men. You’ll see quite a lot of my friends soon, I’m sure, they all help at my place. I hope you won’t mind.”

The eight-year-old wasn't scared at all. Certainly not with the way Blacky was driving. "I like bikes, that's why I came here. Lotta bikes," that it was where he'd got of the train so no one would have had a chance to see that he actually didn't have a ticket. People had started watching their wallets too much after a while. Which brought up another thought. "Did any of your friends lose wallets yesterday or something?" Just to know if any of his pickpocket victims were among those friends.

“Uhm… No, not that I’ve heard, no. Why, did you meet some big guys with painted leather jackets, and tried your skills on them?” Blacky wasn’t worried about what Desta had done to survive; all his boys had a past at the wrong side of the law. That was what Feniks was all about, to get the boys back on track.

"How should I know who your friends are?" Desta tried to avoid admitting just yet that he was a pickpocket. And a very good one if he might say so himself. He'd actually done his very best to stay away from the big guys with painted leather jackets. They actually noticed things instead of shrugging stuff and moving on.

“You’ll recognize them easily,” grinned Blacky. They’d reached town now, and he drove through the narrow streets to his hostel. Parking in front of it, he shut the engine off, and turned to tap Desta on his knee. “We’re here,” he stated. “This is Feniks, my life work, and my pride and joy. Take care of it and it’ll take care of you.” He stepped off and walked to the door, to open it widely. The hall had white walls with writings on it, and mementos from his guests between the souvenirs of Jamaica, Blacky’s birth country. “Welcome, Desta…”

Stay Tuned...