Lion

by Jessie Cooke

  The phone on his desk buzzed and he picked it up. It was Carol, his receptionist. “Sir, Mrs. Walters from Child Services is here.”

  “Send her in.”

  English put the phone back in the cradle and said, “Ridge, it’s important that you talk to this lady, okay? She’s from Child Services and…” That was when Ridge reacted. His tiny body stiffened and he came up out of his chair. English stood up just as Ridge jumped toward the door like a gazelle being chased by a lion. Before he got there, the door was opened by Mrs. Walters. She was a big woman, thankfully, because when the tiny boy tried to slip around her, there was nowhere for him to go. He turned back toward English and that trapped animal look was etched into his little face. Softly, the principal said, “Ridge, Mrs. Walters just wants to talk to you, that’s all, just talk.”

  When Ridge finally spoke, Paul English knew that somehow the child knew exactly what Child Services was. Maybe they’d been out to the house, or present in court when Kate got custody of the boy. But he definitely knew about them. “My Me Maw needs me. You can’t take me away.” English looked at Mrs. Walters. He didn’t know what else to say to calm the boy down. Ridge’s statement only made him worry more. In his mind, a child of six years old should be saying that he needed his grandmother, not the other way around.

  “Ridge, I’m Mrs. Walters,” the woman said, in a soft, non-threatening voice. “I understand that your…Me Maw…needs you. I have grandchildren too, and I know I need them. I just want to talk to you, Ridge. I just have to make sure that you…and your Me Maw…are okay. Can you give me just a few minutes?” Ridge brought his head up again and the principal could see both of his green eyes now. For a second, the look in them sent a chill through the older man’s body. Finally Ridge turned his attention back to the woman and said:

  “Okay.”

  Mrs. Walters smiled down at him and held out her hand. Ridge didn’t take it, but he followed her through the door of the principal’s office and into the small conference room next door. The door was closed behind them and after telling Carol to let him know if there were any problems, English closed the door to his office and sat back down behind the desk.

  Paul English took this job because he genuinely liked children and wanted to do whatever he could to help them. But it was his thirtieth, and last, year at the school, and he was tired. He was set to retire in two months at the end of the term, and he had never looked forward so much to anything in his life. He smiled as he thought about the plans he and his wife had made; they were going to travel to Florida and…a loud knock on the door startled him, and before he could even react, the door was thrown open and English felt like he’d traveled back in time…and not to a time he wanted to revisit.

  Carol’s frightened face appeared around the side of the man in the doorway and in a shaky voice she said, “I’m sorry, Mr. English. I told him he couldn’t come in here. I’m calling the police…” The man didn’t flinch or take his dark eyes off the principal’s face. Paul fished through the top drawer of the desk for another roll of Tums while at the same time saying:

  “The police won’t be necessary, Carol. Mr. Benning and I are old friends.” The man in the doorway smiled and English said, “Hello, Grant. Close the door and have a seat. I’m sure you remember the drill.”

  2

  Hawk had been in the middle of church when he’d gotten the frantic call from Kate. Doc and Dallas were on vacation…in Mexico of all places. Hawk hadn’t kept to himself how odd he thought that was, and how dangerous, to Doc at least. As usual, however, Doc told him he knew what he was doing, and Hawk hoped he was right. While Doc was gone, Hawk was tasked with keeping things running smoothly at the ranch, and slightly overwhelmed. But as soon as Kate called he put it all on the back burner. Church could wait, Lion couldn’t.

  On the phone, Kate told Hawk that Lion had gotten into another fight and this time the school was calling Child Services. She was terrified of someone taking the little boy from her and Hawk was afraid she was a step away from taking him and running away. She had nothing to lose, really…but as much as Hawk had come to be fond of the older lady and her quirky ways, he wasn’t convinced she’d be able to provide for Lion without his help.

  Hawk had kept in touch with Kate…slowly reestablishing their relationship…after Dolly was killed. But he kept his distance from Lion. If the little boy wanted to see him, Hawk was confident he’d let his Me Maw know, and Kate would call him. He wasn’t about to push himself on the traumatized kid. Lion needed a bad guy for what had happened to his mama, someone to blame. Since he’d never laid eyes on the man who fathered him and killed his mother, Hawk was that bad guy…and as long as the boy was okay, he could live with that.

  Hawk only gave Kate groceries, money, and things for the boy when Lion was at school, and although he’d reconciled himself over the past year to the fact that was how it had to be, it was still hard. His heart ached to see the boy, to hold him. Every time Kate called and told him Lion was fighting at school, Hawk remembered all the years Dolly had borne the weight of the bullying and teasing that had chased away all of her self-esteem. He wanted so much more than that for Lion, but the little boy wanted nothing to do with him…so he had to do what he could from the periphery of the boy’s life. He tried talking Kate though what to say to Lion to get the boy to open up, but he had been afraid it would be a long, uphill battle. She had never broken through that barrier of silent suffering with her own daughter, and as much as she meant well, Hawk wasn’t surprised her efforts were failing with Lion as well.

  “Mr. Benning, it’s been a long time.” The principal didn’t seem surprised to see him, but Hawk was sure he wasn’t happy about the reunion. He’d given the old man one headache after the other when he was in school. He often wondered if the old man had celebrated the day Hawk finally quit school and never came back. He chuckled now and said:

  “I guess it’s nice to know I left a lasting impression.”

  The principal raised an eyebrow. “‘Nice’ isn’t the word I’d use,” Mr. English said, “but…this isn’t about you, is it? Maybe we should just cut to the chase. Why are you here, Mr. Benning?”

  “To stop you from splitting up a family. That old woman and that boy need each other. They’ve already experienced unimaginable loss. It would kill them both to be separated. You think you’re doing the right thing, I get that. Lion is having problems…”

  “Lion?”

  “Ridge. Lion is his nickname. Anyways, it’s understandable that the kid has issues. He’s been to hell and back and he’s only six years old. But those issues won’t be fixed by taking him from his grandmother, no matter how much you think they will. That anger he’s dealing with, that’ll just get worse until it eats him alive.”

  “She’s not helping him, Grant. He’s spiraling.”

  “Then help her, help him. I readily admit that she’s a different sort. Different isn’t bad, Mr. English, I think you believe that. She just needs help, direction. Can’t you recommend therapy, or one of those big brother programs or something…”

  The principal had sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Tell me, if you’re so concerned, why suggest I recommend a big brother program? Why not be his mentor yourself?”

  Hawk smiled tightly and said, “Come on, Mr. English…you know who I am. You know who I’ve always been. You really think the vice president of the Southside Skulls is the kind of mentor a six-year-old boy needs?” In truth, Hawk would love to be his mentor. He’d do whatever it took to see the little boy had a good life, a better one than his mother had. But he’d given up his rights to be anything to the little boy when he failed to keep his mother safe. Even if Lion would have him, he knew that the further his name and affiliations stayed away from it all, the better off Lion would be in the long run.

  “I guess I should be happy that at least you can see that,” the principal said. “Maybe you did mature after all.”

  “Got hair all over and eve
rything,” Hawk said with a laugh. The principal didn’t look impressed with his crude joke. He sighed and said:

  “Ridge is with the Child Services worker now, Grant. It’s really out of my hands from here on. Now that they’re involved we’ll have to follow their recommendations…or that of the courts, if it comes to that.”

  “I’m sure that you can keep it from getting to that point, Mr. English…if you’re so inclined. I’d be willing to make it worth your while…”

  Mr. English laughed and then crossed his arms and sat back in the chair deeper and said, “Surely, Mr. Benning, you’re not offering me a bribe?”

  Hawk smiled and stood up. “No, sir, I would never. Bribes are against the law. I’m asking for a favor, for a friend who would be willing to reciprocate if you ever needed it. No more, no less. I’m asking that when you meet with that woman after she talks to Lion, you picture yourself and that pretty little wife of yours in that house she’s always dreamed of retiring in out in Port Richey…no financial worries…no thoughts of a lonely, bullied child that you tore from his grandmother’s arms just before you left. That’s all I’m asking.” English was still looking at him like he had two heads as he walked out. The first question people always asked was “How?” How the hell did the Skulls seem to know intimate details about everyone on the Southside? What they didn’t know was that it was a huge part of what they did, and a huge reason the ranch was so successful. Doc had dossiers on everyone in his territory, and Hawk was a big part of putting them together.

  He walked toward the outer door, past the still frightened-looking receptionist’s desk, when he heard the door open and Lion cry out behind him, “Hawk?” Dolly and Kate always called him Grant, but when Lion was four years old, he’d taken to calling him Hawk, in trade for his own nickname, Hawk thought. Hawk took a deep breath and turned around. Lion’s green eyes were red and swollen from crying and his little nose was running. When Hawk looked at him, the little boy wrenched his hand out of the woman’s and ran toward him. Hawk knelt down and caught the boy in his arms. It felt so good to hold him again and Hawk’s resolve grew even stronger to help him, whether anyone wanted his help or not. “Don’t let her take me from Me Maw, Hawk. Me Maw needs me. Please…” Lion’s tears dampened Hawk’s neck and his words tore at his heart. He put his mouth close to the boy’s ear, and trying to whisper through the thick lump in his own throat he said:

  “Won’t ever happen, little Lion. It’s not ever going to happen. I’ll make sure of it, I promise.” Hawk held him until the woman in the doorway cleared her throat at last. He had to peel the boy off of him and as he stood up, Lion grabbed hold of his leg and held on. Hawk couldn’t help but smile and run his hand through the soft blond hair. He’d missed him so damned bad that keeping himself from dissolving into a puddle of tears was taking most of his strength. He smiled at the thought of Dolly saying, “Big, tough, biker…yeah, right.” He looked at the woman and she said:

  “Who are you?”

  Hawk looked down at Lion again, swallowed hard, and said, “A friend of the family. I’m here to see what I can do to help.” He looked over at English, who was standing in the doorway of his office. The old man was staring at him, hard. Then taking a breath of his own English looked at the woman and said:

  “Maybe Mr. Benning and Ridge can have a few minutes in the conference room while you and I talk?”

  The woman nodded, but gave Hawk another suspicious look. “We’ll be right there in the conference room,” Hawk said. “I’m sure Carol here still has the Boston PD on speed dial just in case.” He winked at Carol. She looked like maybe she’d peed her pants just a little bit. Hawk took Lion’s hand and led him into the conference room. The Child Services worker waited until the door was closed before she followed English into his office. Hawk was feeling good about their odds. English had probably never accepted a bribe for anything in his life before…but Hawk saw the glimmer of light in his eyes, just for a second, at the thought of buying his wife that dream house at last. Hawk had learned a lot in his young adult life, and one of the things he’d found most useful was that everyone had a price.

  A week later Hawk stood just inside the doorway of an old gym, holding Lion’s little hand while the boy looked around the room with wide eyes. The men in the room were huge, some of them much bigger than Hawk, and must have looked like giants to Lion. They were mostly shirtless, sweaty, and pounding bags or each other in the small ring at the center of the room, which was technically a basement, but had been made into a gym. Harvey Evans was the name of the man who ran the gym and its purpose was to train fighters for one of the largest underground fighting rings in the state. Harvey didn’t train kids, and he normally didn’t even allow anyone under the age of sixteen downstairs. But the Skulls had put a ton of money into Harvey’s coffers over the years…and Doc owned the property the building sat on outright. On top it was a fairly lucrative auto detailing shop that stayed busy seven days a week. The big men driving nice bikes or cars and going in and out of the building didn’t look out of place at all, and the entrance to the basement gym was well hidden underneath a tire display that was rolled easily away at the push of a button. Harvey was somewhat of a genius in that respect, but a genius who needed Doc’s money and occasionally his influence. So, pissed off about it or not, the man wasn’t about to tell Hawk no when he’d called him earlier in the day to talk about bringing Lion in a few days a week. Hawk wasn’t particularly into fighting…at least not in a ring. But he was hoping that the aggression Lion seemed to be having such a hard time with could be curbed, at least somewhat, by hitting and kicking a bag a few times a week.

  The Child Services worker and Mr. England had come to an agreement after a long consultation that day. If Kate would agree to take Lion to counseling once a week…and allow the social worker access to what went on in those sessions…she’d give them three months to see if they were making progress and reevaluate his behavior at school. Lion didn’t want to talk to a stranger, so he wasn’t happy…but Hawk and Kate got him to understand it was the only way he could stay with his Me Maw. He’d been to one session so far, and the therapist told Kate he didn’t say a word…but he was there, and that was the deal. Hawk didn’t have much faith in talk therapy…not that he’d ever tried it. He just thought all that psychology stuff was bullshit. He had a degree in the school of hard knocks and so far he’d survived, which was part of what he wanted for Lion. Mostly, though, he wanted him to thrive, and he was willing to do whatever he had in order to make sure that happened.

  “You brought us a midget,” one of the braver men said as Hawk and Lion walked toward the little locker room in back.

  “We thought about a midget, Stinky,” Hawk said, addressing the fighter by his ring name, “but decided that maybe a kid was better. Maybe you could at least stay on your feet for one round with the kid.” Stinky flipped Hawk off and Hawk laughed. Right before they got to the back, in a quiet, controlled little voice Lion said:

  “I could take him.” Hawk threw his head back and laughed.

  “One of these days, kid…I have no doubt.”

  3

  Boston, Present Day

  Lion stopped swinging the ax, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, and wiped the sweat off his face. He leaned down to reach for the gallon of water he’d brought out with him earlier and the muscles in his back protested. His arms ached, and even bringing the gallon container to his lips was painful. It had been a month since they’d gotten back from the ride to Arizona and since then he’d been constantly moving. He’d painted two rooms in the house, built stairs on the back deck, cleaned all of the weeds from the garden by hand, and now he’d split at least two cords of wood since sunup that morning. It was all in attempt to keep his restless mind occupied. Too bad it wasn’t working.

  Once he’d quenched his thirst, he put the jug down and rested his hands on the small of his back. Arching his face toward the sun, he closed his eyes. The first warm days after one of Boston
’s frozen winters were his favorite. It was gearing up to be a long, hot summer, and it would be quite a few months before anyone needed all the firewood he’d cut, gathered, and split…but it never hurt to be prepared. Lion had learned the hard way in his life to expect the unexpected.

  He finally opened his eyes and began to gather his things. The sun was getting low in the sky and he was getting hungry for dinner. He had thought earlier about going into town and having a hot meal at the diner, but suddenly he wasn’t feeling like making small talk with people…even just the wait staff. He started walking toward the metal shed that sat behind the garden when he first heard it…the low whine of a motorcycle motor. To a lifelong lover of bikes, the sound was unmistakable. It was a Harley, and Lion enjoyed the sound…until he realized it was getting closer.

  He opened the shed and hung up the ax and put away the rest of his equipment while cursing the arrival of unexpected and uninvited company. Dax usually called on him about twice a year…as far as he could see it, he wasn’t due again for months. Of course, Dax hadn’t been the one to ask him to take the lead on the ride to Arizona. Just the thought of the person who had visited him that day and asked for the favor caused a cacophony of emotions to race through his blood so quickly it was almost nauseating.

  He wiped his face once more and instead of heading in the back door of the house, he went around front, to see who was coming up the long drive. Dusk was setting in and the bright headlight of the bike blinded him at first, but as the rider got closer those emotions began to boil and the nausea intensified.

  The bike stopped about six feet from Lion. The rider put down his kickstand and pulled off his half-shell helmet. Lion stood looking at him, arms folded across his bare chest, trying to calm the urge to do what he’d wanted to do for so many years…beat the living shit out of the old man.