Lives Changed

By Michael King

Published on May 14, 2012

Gay

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The people do not exist except in my mind. This work is copyrighted and I ask that you do not copy, post or electronically download without my express permission. If you are too young to be in here or it is illegal in your state then please leave, as I do not wish anything bad to happen to you.

NOTE:

I know that we all enjoy these pages and wish for them to be here for a long time. We, the writers, take pride in being able to give you all a few minutes of pleasure. So please think of the time spent putting these pages up and donate just a bit to Nifty so we can keep going.

I want to take this time also to thank everyone that has sent me a note. A special thanks to Larry in California, Ricky in Louisiana and to a great writer and friend, Miguel Sanchez.

Lives Changed Chapter 3-B

Three weeks went by after Malcolm's trip to Washington and the strike was still going strong. The senate committee finally announced that there was no need to change the school system, and further, that the students should stop the strike and head back to class. Malcolm, who had been waiting for some sort of news, exploded.

The next morning, Malcolm sat at the kitchen table with the phone and his laptop, and between swallows from a glass of juice he made one call after another to radio stations, newspapers and TV reporters. When they listened to what Malcolm had to say, they all agreed to cover a live news conference. They only asked that they be given a few days notice so that they could set it all up. Even CNN joined the other media, but said they would cover the event live only if Malcolm Daniels was there. After making his calls, Malcolm sat looking at the calendar while trying to think of a place that could hold everyone, including the students and their parents. The only place he could come up with was the Palace Theater. Again reaching for the phone, he called the theater manager and asked if he could book the place for one afternoon.

"Young man, the management of this theater thinks that what you're doing is wrong, and if you wish to rent the theater it will cost you fifteen hundred dollars for a full afternoon."

"That's fine, I can pay for it this week if I can get it for Saturday, February 20th?"

"Yes, that will be fine; I will have the doors open for you at noon."

"Thank you, sir." Malcolm said, as he set the phone aside.

Notices had gone out well in advance giving the time and place for the gathering, and the speakers had been lined up, but Malcolm was sure that the place would be empty.

During the same period, Aaron had gotten over being sick and both he and Zeke were having a lot of fun. Mr. Stillman had arranged for Richard to get a temporary foster parent permit and to keep the boys while CPS and the police were looking for their parents, but so far they had turned up nothing.

Then, on the afternoon of February 19th, an officer from the Sheriff's Department showed up at the Daniels' home and handed Malcolm not one, but two subpoenas to be in court the following week. Reading them Malcolm stopped the sheriff.

"Sir, there has to be some mistake; these say I have to be in two different court rooms at the same time."

"Son, there is nothing I can do about that. I was just told to serve them, and I have," the officer replied.

"Thanks; just what I needed."

"Good luck, young man."

Malcolm closed the door and just stood there staring at the subpoenas. Suddenly Zeke ran up to him shouting, "Malcolm! You're gonna be on the CNN news again! Come see."

"Okay turkey, let me grab a juice. Do you and your brother want one?"

"Yes, please," Aaron answered politely.

Malcolm had just sat down with Aaron on his lap and Zeke pulled tightly against his side when a commercial ended and the news anchor came on: "Once again our main story is young Malcolm Daniels, the person whose actions started the nationwide student strike. Tomorrow he is holding a rally at the Palace Theater, and CNN will be covering the rally live. We have also just learned that Malcolm has been subpoenaed into court next week for a competency hearing, and at the same time is also being sued over the fight that started this strike. To Mr. Daniels: All of us at CNN wish you the best."

"See, told you," Zeke whispered.

"That you did, buddy. Now, are you and your brother happy here?" Malcolm laughed as he started to tickle Zeke's belly.

Getting a nod from Aaron and a shy "yes" from Zeke, Malcolm smiled. He was still sitting in the darkened room snuggling the two boys when his dad came in, and the flash of light from his camera made Malcolm smile.

"I have a suit for you, Malcolm. You will have to wear it tomorrow. Remember, this will be one of the biggest coverage's you will ever get."

"I know, dad, and it scares the heck outta me."

"I'll bet it does. Now go wash up; the pizza should be here in a few minutes."

Saturday morning as Malcolm took his shower he was trying to think about what he was going to say at the rally that afternoon. Malcolm was so lost in thought that when the shower went cold it made him screech. Reaching down, he shut everything off and grabbed his towel. He could hear two little boys out in the hallway laughing. Wrapping the towel around him, he walked to his room and dressed. As he walked into the hallway, Aaron ran up and with his arms up, wanting to be carried. Malcolm smiled. "Come on, turkey," lifted him up and headed to the kitchen, where he found his dad and Papa sitting.

"I see he found you," Richard grinned.

"Yeah, he did."

"Good. What were you trying to do, drown yourself?" Papa asked.

"No, I was thinking, going over everything in my mind." Malcolm replied as he poured himself a glass of milk.

"Son, just relax, everything is going to be fine," Richard told him.

"I know, but I am going to be speaking to millions of people and it scares me."

"I bet it does, but remember that we will be there with you."

"Yeah! I get to come too. Papa said I could," Aaron squeaked.

"Really! I didn't think they let turkeys into theaters," laughed Malcolm.

"Do you know who all is going to be there Malcolm?" Papa asked.

"Well, there will be Patrick, Mr. Lawson, the social studies teacher, and myself. Patrick said that most of the time is for me," Malcolm answered.

"Okay, just don't let them get to you. You're in charge of this—not them—and not the audience," Richard said.

"I'll try to remember that."

The rest of the morning Malcolm sat quietly in his room. About 11:00 o'clock he dressed in his suit and headed over to the theater, getting there just as the news crews started showing up. Pointing them towards the press area, Malcolm then went up onto the stage to see if everything was okay. Wherever he moved, Zeke and Aaron were right beside him, causing some of the crews to smile as they watched. At two o'clock, Patrick and his family showed up. Aaron, seeing his friend, flew off the stage and ran up to him and gave him a big hug.

"What's this? What did I do to get such a big hug from you?" Patrick asked as he lifted Aaron and carried him back down to Malcolm.

"You're my friend, that's why," Aaron giggled.

"Well you're my friend too, so can I give you a hug back?"

"Uh huh."

By two-thirty the theater was packed. The balcony had to be opened so more people could be seated. At five-minutes-to-three the stage lights came on and the audience started to get quiet. At three o'clock it was time to start, and Mr. Lawson walked onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, students, welcome. I am a teacher, but I am here also as a supporter of what is happening. I believe in what the students want, even though it may mean the end of my career as a teacher. I feel that change must come, and the people who control things don't think students should have a say. I am here to tell you that they do. So, with that said, I will turn over the microphone to Patrick Jacobs, the co-leader of this student strike."

Patrick walked on stage to thunderous applause. Stepping up on the dais he stood behind the podium and smiled.

"You know, I have to grow some to be able to see over this thing. Either that or maybe we should cut it in half. Well, since we can't do that I will stand in front of it to talk to you."

Grabbing the microphone, he stepped out. "There, this is better. Now, we all know what is happening with the student strike. What started at a single school has now gone nationwide, all in support of school policy changes. When this strike started, all we wanted was our friend Malcolm Daniels back in school. Instead he was arrested and tried in a court of law. Even when he was found not guilty we were again told that our friend was not coming back; he was expelled. So we continued the strike. I got expelled because I was the leader at the time. My friends joined me but the school board still didn't listen. Today, this rally is to try and get even more people behind us. It is time people said no to staying with policies from the 1930s. Ladies and gentlemen I ask you to welcome to the stage Malcolm Daniels, a very good friend to me and to all students."

Malcolm was just about to walk onstage when he was stopped by a stranger. "Mr. Daniels, here, you will need this. Please don't say where you got it, because it could mean my job," the stranger spoke quietly.

"Okay, but what is it?" Malcolm said surprised by the sudden appearance of the stranger and the file.

"Read it and see."

Opening the folder, Malcolm saw that it was a summary of complaints of bullying filed with the school board. Looking at the total number, Malcolm was shocked. The school board had ignored each and every complaint it had received!

Walking out with the folder in his hand he quickly changed his mind as to how he was going to open. "Good afternoon everyone. To the reporters that are here, I ask that you wait to ask your questions until after I have spoken. I was just going to jump into this with some prepared remarks, but just before I came out I was handed some information. Well, to me it is a surprise, but it may not be to some of you. So, before I really start, I want to summarize it. What I have here are statistics showing that from the fifty schools in the district I attend, during the last school year the Board received well over two hundred complaints of harassment and bullying. Two hundred! So what did the Board do about it? Well, according to the papers I have here, they did nothing, absolutely nothing!"

Picking up the folder, Malcolm held it up so all could see. "People, to the school board these complaints meant nothing, so they just tossed them aside."

With that, Malcolm threw the folder over his shoulder, and the stunned audience watched the papers flutter to the stage floor.

"I know that you parents out there have children in school. I also know that some of you have children that are just about to start school. Tell me: do you want your child or children to be bullied, to be called names or to have their lunch money taken from them? If you do, then just sit back quietly and do nothing.

Twenty to thirty million students, from grade school to university, are all saying the same thing: change the system; stop the bullying; but who is listening? NO ONE!—at least no one who can change the system.

I am just a kid. Each and every one that is striking is just a kid. The people in charge think we don't know anything, they think that we should be in class doing our work, getting an education. I agree! We should be, but not the way things stand right now. A lot of you know that I was arrested, tried and found not guilty for standing up to three bullies. I was expelled for doing that. When this strike started I had no idea it was happening. Why? Because I was in Juvenile Hall. My fellow students stood up and said it was wrong. They started this strike to make the Board see that they were wrong.

At the beginning of the month, I was in Washington, D.C. sitting before a senate hearing on changes to the school system and its policies. Well, you all heard how that came out: the senators conducting the hearing said that nothing had to be changed. I say they are wrong! Children all across this nation say they are wrong! Parents: if you want your children to go back to school then stand with them and support the strike. Say you will help your children get these changes made. Your children are the future, and the future starts now. Thank you."

"Mr. Daniels, do you think this rally will make a difference?" a reporter asked.

"I don't know. I hope and pray that it does," Malcolm answered.

"Mr. Daniels, it is true that you kicked your mother out?" a second reporter asked.

"The hassles with my mother are not why were are here, so please refrain from asking about her."

"Mr. Daniels, you said you testified in a senate hearing. Was it only about the school system changes that you wish for?" yet another reporter asked.

"Yes."

Malcolm continued to answer the questions from the reporters. At five o'clock he closed it off by again stressing that parents had to stand up and support their children. Walking off stage, he sighed deeply, relieved that it was over. Now he could go home and relax for the night.

In Washington, the White House was abuzz. The President and his son had watched the broadcast, as did many of his staff and others of importance.

"That kid has a lot of guts to stand up to not just the local and state governments, but the federal as well; I really would like to meet him," the President said to his son.

"That he does, and he already said no to you once. That in itself takes courage," His son replied.

"Yes, I never thought anyone would say no to such a request when I took office."

"Well, I agree with him, it is time for a change. No student should be bullied."

"I am with you there, but it has to be done state-by-state. I can't just stand up and say this has to be done."

"Why not?" his son smiled, "You're the President."

"Well, I would still like to meet that young man."

"You could call him and ask to meet with you?"

"I tried that, remember?"

"No, I remember you sending a couple of Secret Service agents out to pick him up and bring him here."

"That was the only way I thought I could get him here, but it didn't work."

"Well try again, but this time don't use the agents. Call him yourself."

Back in Florida, Malcolm was sleeping soundly, not really worried about anything. Zeke and Aaron were curled up together equally at peace. When Malcolm woke the next morning, he found his dad and Papa sitting at the table smiling. In front of them were stacks of newspapers.

"What's this, new wallpaper?" Malcolm asked sleepily.

"No, Son, it is your story. It seems like you got a lot of coverage," Richard said.

"What do you mean?" Malcolm gasped.

"Well maybe you should sit down and start reading."

"I think I'd better go to the bathroom first."

"That would be good, and maybe find an answering service also. The phone hasn't stopped ringing since eight this morning."

"Well, something had to happen. I just hope it is people calling to support us and not the ones who don't want changes."

"I hope so too. Now go to the bathroom, and maybe you better wake Zeke and Aaron. I'll get breakfast going," Papa said as he stood and ambled over to the stove.

"Okay, see you in a minute," Malcolm mumbled.

Showered and dressed, Malcolm woke the two boys. "Papa's making breakfast, turkeys, so if you wanna eat then hurry up."

"Okies," Aaron mumbled as he stretched.

The more new stories that Malcolm read, the more it seemed to him that the rally had worked. Some parents had finally come out and said they would stand with their children. Even more voiced their support for changes. The Governor, in his statement, said that the students were in the wrong and that no matter what happened, school boards were right in expelling rebellious students.

"The one person I was hoping would stand with us isn't. Now we have to try something else," Malcolm fumed.

"Son, you can't win everyone over. You have gotten a lot though." Richard said.

"I know, but how far have we come, and how far do we still have to go?" Malcolm replied

"Those are hard questions. Zeke, would you get the door for us please?" Papa asked.

"Sure, pops. Malcolm it's for you," Zeke hollered.

"Thanks, turkey."

Walking into the hallway he stopped short.

"You again! What do you want this time?" Malcolm asked as he saw the same two Secret Service agents standing there.

"If you've forgotten, my name is Stan Wiley and this is my partner, Tony Marchand. We have a message for you from the President," Stan said.

"What message? And I don't recall ever getting your names."

"He wishes for you to come to the White House and meet with him early next week." Stan spoke up as he glared at Malcolm.

"I would if I could, but I can't. I have to be in court."

"I will tell him that and see if he can make it for another time."

"Thanks, and have a great day. Oh, how's the hand?"

"Slowly getting better."

"That's good, but next time you try and touch me it will be worse."

"Once I hear back from the President, I will give you his answer."

"Make it later than sooner. I have things to do."

"I know, but in the mean time, we will be with you all the time, on orders from our boss."

"Whatever. Now my brothers and I need to eat."

"Go do it. We will be sitting outside. If you go out please, don't take off on us."

"Sure, but I don't need babysitters, and you know me I do what I want."

"Just let us do our job."

"Whatever. Dad, can bring you guys some coffee."

"Sure, now come and eat before your brothers eat everything."

"Okay."

"Do you two want to come in?" Richard asked the agents, handing them coffee.

"Dad, no. They can sit outside," Malcolm stated in an agitated voice.

"No, Son, I won't do that to them. Besides, he did say the President ordered them to watch you."

"Okay," Malcolm said as he grabbed his ringing cell phone. "Hello."

"Morning dude, have you seen the news?" Patrick asked when he heard Malcolm's voice.

"No, but you should see my table. It is stacked with newspapers," Malcolm said as he glared at the two agents.

"Looks like you hit a nerve, my phone hasn't stopped ringing."

"I know the feeling; ours has been the same. Look, why not come over and help me. Maybe we can decide what we have to do for the next step."

"Okay, give me an hour."

"Sure."

With the help of Zeke and Aaron, all the papers had been moved to the front room and breakfast was served. Aaron was sitting on Malcolm's lap as they ate. They had just finished when Patrick and his family showed up. The parents went in the kitchen and left the children in the front room, with Stan and Tony standing at the door watching.

"Malcolm, what is with those two at the door?" Patrick's older brother asked. "Believe it or not, they are my babysitters. Seems the President wants me kept safe," Malcolm smirked.

"Damn, why is he doing that?" Patrick's sister asked, blushing as she looked one of the men over.

"Hell if I know. He did say he wanted to meet with me. Tried it before when I was in Washington, but I slipped away and came home, remember?" Malcolm laughed, "And girl, they are both married."

"Oh, yeah. Now what about this week, what are we going to do?" Patrick asked defusing an embarrassing moment.

"Well, I have to be in court. I don't know how long that will take, but I think maybe it is time to make a stand at the governor's mansion; he still thinks we aren't serious," Malcolm spoke up, looking at everyone gathered in the room.

"We'll need a permit for that," Patrick's older brother stated.

"I know. Would one of you look into it and let me know what we need. Then we can go from there."

"Okay, we can start on that, what else?"

"Well, we have to keep it in the news. With me in court that will help some, since I am being sued by the three guys I beat up. Thing is, I don't know what their lawyer has, so I can't plan a defense."

"Well, don't your lawyer have all that?"

"He should, and it is "doesn't," not "don't." "Get real dude! We aren't in school."

"True, but we have to show the people we know how to talk and act like adults."

"Okay, I get it."

"What `bout me and Zeke, can we help?" Aaron asked.

"Turkeys, you can help, and you already have more than you know. Just seeing your smiles helps brighten our days," Patrick said as he hugged Aaron.

"Okies," Aaron mumbled into Patrick's chest.

"Come here, turkey. Why don't you sit here with me and keep me company," Malcolm suggested.

"Yeah, I like your snuggles." Aaron squealed.

"Malcolm Daniels, you should be married and have your own kids," Patrick said as his sister snickered.

"No, he shouldn't!" squeaked Aaron. That got everyone laughing, including Stan and his partner. Hearing the laughter the parents came in.

"What's so funny?" Mrs. Jacobs asked.

"Mom, Patrick said Malcolm should get married and have kids. Aaron here just said no, he shouldn't," the daughter spoke up between fits of giggles.

"Oh, my!" Mrs. Jacobs laughed, the other adults breaking out in laughter as they heard this.

Malcolm and Aaron were both blushing deeply as they took the brunt of the jokes.

"Anyway children, we have decided to take you all out to lunch, so go get your jackets and shoes on."

"Sweet!" everyone chorused.

"Mr. Daniels, you will have to ride with Stan and me," Tony spoke up as he placed his hand on Malcolm's shoulder.

"Yeah, okay."

"Can we ride with him?" Zeke asked.

"Sure, kid," the agent said.

"Thanks, Mister! Come on, Aaron lets get our stuff," Zeke hollered.

"Dude, you just made their day," Malcolm said as he slipped his jacket on.

"It's nothing, kid. I have a boy Aaron's age."

"Then you understand what I am trying to do?"

"I do, but because of who I work for, I can't take a stand; I have to remain neutral."

"I understand what you mean."

"Come on kid, move it; the others are waiting," Stan spoke up, obviously a bit annoyed. "Besides, I don't need to hear you preaching garbage."

"Whatever. Just lead the way." Malcolm snapped back

Calling Zeke and Aaron to hurry up, Malcolm locked up the house behind them and walked down to the cars. Stan was driving as they followed the others to Mike's Place. When he walked in, Malcolm could see a whole bunch of tables had been pushed together. Maggie was there, as always, smiling as she put juices on the table for the kids and poured coffee for the adults.

"Hi, Maggie, how you doing?" Malcolm asked and gave her a hug.

"Great, Malcolm, what is this?" Maggie asked as she saw the two families together.

"Just a little get together. You know Patrick and these two turkeys. This is my dad, and the other oldie is my Papa, and the others are Patrick's family. What's to eat?" Malcolm asked after doing the introductions.

"For you, Malcolm, it should be burnt toast with frog droppings," Papa laughed.

"Hey, I'm innocent!" That made everyone laugh.

Everyone grabbed seats at the big table except Stan and his partner Tony, who sat at another table drinking coffee and watching everything.

Malcolm had hoped that this would be one day when he could just be a kid and enjoy some time being with Zeke and Aaron. Helping Aaron cut up his food, Malcolm smiled as Zeke started helping him eat. Soon everyone was eating and quietly talking. Once everyone finished, they all headed home, again under the watchful eyes of the two agents.

Malcolm enjoyed the weekend except for the continuing phone calls from the newspapers. He spent the time playing with Aaron and Zeke, and Papa and Richard watched the three interacting as they sat talking in the kitchen.

"Richard, what are you thinking?" Papa asked.

"Oh, nothing much. It's just sometimes I wish Elizabeth and I had more kids. I mean, look at Malcolm; he seems so happy."

"True, but underneath all that is a very scared boy."

"You're right. I know that, but he is handling it great."

Trying to change the subject, Papa asked, "Well, are we having burgers or hot dogs for dinner?"

"Hot dogs, please, Papa," Aaron shouted from behind him.

"You little sneak; you could scare a guy to gray hair like that," Papa laughed.

"You got gray hair already."

"Oh, a little smart boy, are you?"

"Uh huh."

"Well then, turkey, go wash up and get your brothers to do the same."

"Okies, Papa. Love you."

"Love you too, Aaron." Watching him run off Papa took a swipe at his eyes.

"Richard why do you need any more kids, you already have three wonderful boys?"

" I only have one so far, but hopefully two more by the end of next week."

"So you did it! When are you going to tell Malcolm and the other two?"

"I'm not; well, not until I know for sure."

Monday morning Malcolm was up early and sitting at the table when Papa came in. The two sat drinking juice and coffee and going over the papers when Malcolm's dad came in and poured himself a coffee. Grabbing a paper he started reading it.

"Well looks like everything you do is front page news, Son. They have you sitting in the restaurant with us yesterday, saying that the strike leaders take time out to be with family."

"Yeah, I know, but you should read the other one. Mother is saying that I have time to hang with lower class people and pay for their meals, but still won't give her a penny." Malcolm replied.

"Don't let her bother you. She wants you to get mad so that lose your temper when you go to court."

"I know, but it does bother me. I just hope Mr. Stillman has gotten a date change done. I still can't see how I can be in two court rooms at same time."

"Don't worry, I'm sure he will have it fixed."

"Well at least I have one more day with the two turkeys."

"Are they sleeping any better?"

"Yeah, at least they are staying in their own bed."

"That's good."

"Pops, what's for breakfast?" mumbled Zeke as he stumbled into the kitchen wearing just his shorts.

"How about some eggs and bacon?" Papa answered.

"Okay."

"Go get dressed then, and help Aaron also."

"Uh huh. G'morning, Malcolm."

"Morning, turkey."

With breakfast over and Malcolm's dad off to work, the three boys sat and watched TV, letting Aaron watch cartoons. Zeke was watching also, but Malcolm was busy making notes for the courts the next day, when Papa walked in. Stan and Tony looked at him.

"Sir, are you okay?" Stan asked.

"Yeah, just a bit tired," Papa replied.

"Sir, you really aren't looking so good."

"I'll be okay. I just need to sit down."

"Stan, call Dad's office, and I am going to call an ambulance. Papa is going to the hospital." Malcolm order as he reached for his cell phone

"I don't take orders from you, kid," Stan snapped.

"I'll call for you, Malcolm," Tony said.

"Thanks, and make it quick."

Richard agreed to meet everyone at the hospital, so Malcolm and his brothers rode with Stan and Tony. When Papa got to the hospital, Richard was already there, with the others shortly behind. Richard had the boys sit in the waiting room, where Aaron snuggled tight to Zeke. Malcolm was worried, but he had to be patient. Malcolm was pacing when his dad came out.

"Boys, everything is going to be fine. Malcolm, you did the right thing getting him here quickly. The doctors are going to operate and give him a pacemaker. He will be in here for a while getting better. In a couple days you all can come visit him." Richard quietly spoke

"That's great, Dad, I was worried he was gonna die on us." Malcolm said a small smile on his face.

"Can we see Papa now?" Aaron asked.

"No, son, he is getting fixed right now."

"Okies."

The day was shot for both Richard and the boys, and they were just heading out to the car when they were stopped by several reporters. "Mr. Daniels, what brings you to the hospital?"

"My father had a mild heart attack," Richard spoke up before Malcolm could.

"Everyone, this isn't the time for questions, it is time for my dad and the rest of us to go home and relax. We need peace and quiet, so please let us have it," Malcolm added.

"Mr. Daniels, I am sorry about your grandfather. I wish him well."

"Thank-you."

Leaving the reporters, everyone made their way to the cars and headed back home. Once inside the house everyone sat and just and stared at the floor. Aaron soon was sleeping on Malcolm's lap and Zeke was leaning against Richard, also asleep.

"Dad," Malcolm whispered. "Why don't we take these two upstairs to sleep?"

"Good idea."

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Okay, but if you are make yourself a sandwich or something."

"I will. He will be okay, Son."

"I know I'm just scared that's all."

"We all are son. He will just have to slow down now."

"Wish I could, maybe after all these court dates are over I can."

"Let's hope so."

Next: Chapter 9


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