Dan loved 3-on-3 the best. It made his legs ache and his lungs burn, but it made him feel alive.
"Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball!" he screamed ... an old habit ingrained from his nail-tough high school basketball coach to let his teammates know where the ball was located.
Karey, the player Dan was guarding, was forced to take an ill-advised, off-balance shot because the shot clock was about to expire. Jimbo, one of Dan's teammates, grabbed the rebound and was fouled immediately. Dan's team was ahead by one point with less than two seconds to go. His team was in the double bonus. If Jimbo hit both, the worst that could happen was overtime. Jimbo was usually money when it came to pressure, and true to form, he hit both. Dan's team was all over the inbounds pass, and time quickly ran out ... Blue Devils Redux, Dan's team, won the tournament.
After the game, the three teammates went to Spud's for a couple of rounds of Guinness. It was a good night.
Dan still lived in the old neighborhood so he could be close to his grandmother, whose health was failing. The neighborhood wasn't what it used to be. Vacant houses littered the once proud streets. Stray dogs and cats roamed their territory like jungle predators. Dan could have afforded a better house and a better car, but he kept both low-key so he could avoid attracting attention from the local gangs.
He parked in the alley behind his house, across from the weed-strewn vacant lot that used to house the best playground in the area. He noticed some activity in the far corner of the lot but thought nothing of it. Drugs and late night shenanigans were commonplace. As he walked toward his back door, however, something unfamiliar trapped his attention. He heard what appeared to be a muffled cry coming from the area of commotion. He cautiously squeezed through the torn fence and skirted the shadows along the north side of the lot to investigate.
As he got closer, he saw two young bangers from a Latino gang cheering something happening on the ground. He took advantage of their rapt attention to inch closer unnoticed. When he was about 50 feet from them, he saw a big, muscular kid rising from the ground, pulling up his pants. When the kid was off the ground, he saw a terrified young woman crying with her legs spread and her face bruised and matted with blood. A second gang member was getting ready to drop his pants and have his way with the woman. They all appeared to be armed. The smart play would be to quietly back out of the lot and call the police, but Dan was afraid the woman may not survive the time delay.
He racked his brain for an idea. In addition to basketball, Dan had been a gifted high school baseball pitcher, earning a shot with the Braves organization and playing a couple of years in AA and AAA before blowing out his elbow. He looked for a few appropriate sized rocks and crept behind a junked car. He knew the first rock had to do damage. The momentary shock would buy the woman some time and give him a brief opportunity to move to another location to launch a second attack before the goons swarmed on him. The first throw was a perfect fastball that hit the big kid right in the temple, dropping him immediately to the ground. As the gang tried to figure out what was happening, a second rock came sizzling from behind a hedge and smacked the potential second rapist right above the bridge of the nose. He fell back into his partner with such force that the gun was dislodged from third gang member's hand and went skidding into the high weeds.
Dan stormed into the area holding three more rocks, one of them armed and ready to fire. As he approached, the kid who'd been hit in the temple was starting to rise from the ground. Dan spun as he got within range and delivered a vicious roundhouse kick to his chin. The kid hit the ground with a dull thud. The second thug was still unconscious, so Dan could focus all his attention on the third goon, who was scrambling for the gun.
"Please ... I'm begging you ... go for it," Dan said in a low menacing voice. The thug looked up at him with a mixture of hate, defiance, and fear trying to figure out what to do. Dan was tossing a rock up and down in his hand, challenging the kid to make a move. He did but not toward the gun. The punk screamed and ran as hard as possible directly at Dan. As the kid got to Dan, he grabbed the thug's jacket, dropped to the ground, jammed his foot in the kid's gut, and used the kid's momentum to throw him hard into baked dirt and gravel. Dan was up in millisecond ready to for the next move. The kid rose groggily shaking his head. Dan didn't wait. He stepped into the asshole and booted him so hard with a side kick to the nose that the kid went completely limp. Dan figured he probably killed the creep, but he couldn't have cared less.
With all three assailants completely unconscious, he turned to the terrified young woman, crouched in womb position, shaking violently and sobbing.
He knelt down to her and, in as gentle a voice as he could muster, said, "Shhh ... It's okay. They can't hurt you anymore." He took off his jacket. "I'm going to pick you up now. Are you okay with that?"
The frightened woman turned her head and looked at him through the strands of black hair spreading across her face. She studied his face for a moment before nodding that it was okay.
Dan gently draped his jacket over the woman to give her back a token of modesty and gingerly cradled her in the strong arms of his sturdy 6'1" frame. He held her close to allow some of his body heat to penetrate her fierce shaking.
When he got to his car, he started to lay her on the back seat, but she clutched him and shook her head no. He lightly brushed her damp hair away from her eyes and smiled warmly. "I understand." He walked around to the passenger side and set her softly on the seat. He pulled the jacket up around her. When he jumped into the driver's seat, she grabbed his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. He turned on the car heat and drove at a brisk pace to the hospital with his right arm holding her tightly to him.
Once inside the emergency room, he carried her to the front desk and explained to the nurse in a low voice that she had been attacked and raped. The nurse told him to bring her straight to the back and pointed to the clinic door.
Dan followed the nurse to an examination room and laid the woman on the exam table. When he started to leave, the young woman clutched his shirt with all her strength and shook her head no. Dan looked at the nurse for guidance. "Is it okay if I stick around for a few minutes?"
The nurse looked at the woman's terrified face and replied, "Sure ... for now. I need to get the response team together, and that'll take a little time." Then she bent to look into the woman's eyes. "You're safe now, honey. We're going to take care of you." She brushed the woman's black hair with her hand and smiled. The victim's eyes showed no sign of relief. She merely clung to Dan's shirt even stronger.
"Excuse me," Dan said to the nurse. "She doesn't have anything on except my coat. Do you have some scrubs or something?"
"Of course," the nurse answered and pulled together a top, pants, and a robe that seemed to be the woman's size. The nurse left, and Dan turned to leave the room.
"Please! Don't go!" she said with a soft, fearful voice.
"I'm not leaving. I just wanted to give you some privacy," he explained.
"Can you stay in the room with me?"
He smiled at her and answered, "Absolutely." Dan pulled a screen around her to let her put on the clothes. He waited patiently, fumbling with loose change in his warm-up pocket. When she pulled back the screen, Dan saw that she still had on his coat over the hospital clothing, he smiled broadly. She even managed a pinched smile herself.
"Thank you, Mr. ..."
"Dan," he interjected. "Frye's my last name, but Dan will be fine."
"Thank you, Dan," she said as she clutched him and buried her face in his chest. He felt her gently cry in relief.
Dan had to clear his voice a couple of times before finally being able to whisper, "You're welcome."
When the doctor, nurses, and police specialist entered, he was holding her in his arms with her sitting on his lap in a chair. His cheek was resting on the top of her head, and he was slowly rocking her back and forth. He discovered her name was Lisa Chang. She was startled when the team entered and didn't want to leave the safe haven Dan arms provided.
"Tell you what, you hang onto this," Dan said, indicating the jacket, "And, I'll check on you later, okay? I need to talk to the police anyway." Lisa's chin quivered, but she fought to be brave. She nodded yes to Dan. Her eyes followed him until he disappeared beyond the door.
Dan went back to the front desk where he was told to ask for Detective Castillo. The receptionist pointed with her eyes to the large man in the tan shirt filling a Styrofoam cup with coffee. "Excuse me, detective? I'm Dan Frye."
The officer turned and looked at Dan. "Want a cup? It's not good, but it'll grow hair on just about anything that moves."
"No," Dan said smiling. "Thanks, anyway."
"Sheila, you got a room where we can talk?" Castillo asked the receptionist.
"Family consult #4," she said, holding her hand over the receiver before rejoining her call.
