Storm Caster|Five Years Before *EDITED*

“DADDY,” the young boy screamed and woke up from his nightmare. A terrible storm thundered outside his window. A man wearing a worn out sweatshirt and some sweatpants rushed in, looking frantic. “Dad, I had the dream again,” the boy cried. “It was awful,” he cried, grabbing onto his shirt.

The man sat down next to the boy and stroked his dark hair, cradling his son in his arms. “Dedrick, boy, you’re okay. It’s only a little nightmare,” he murmured softly in the boy’s ear. “When I was little, I had a nightmare that my dog ran away.”

Dedrick sniffed again, “You’ve told me that a million times!” He cried his voice cracking. “This one isn’t even about a dog!”

A tall, skinny woman with dark hair came in, holding a young girl. “You okay, Dedrick? You woke up Hillary,” she said. Hillary was laying her head on the woman’s shoulder. Mrs. McCullough sat down on Dedrick’s bed. Dedrick leaned away just a little. He didn’t like his step mom that much, so he always tried to keep his distance.

Dedrick nodded and leaned over to kiss Hillary’s head. “Sorry Hillary,” he apologized, petting her soft hair. Hillary smiled and clutched her teddy bear’s throat like she was trying to strangle it.

Mr. McCullough’s phone beeped in his hand. “There’s a robbery downtown. I’ve got to go,” he sighed, kissing Dedrick and Hillary on their foreheads and kissing Mrs. McCullough on the lips. “I’ll see you three soon, okay?” He promised.

Dedrick hugged his father as he stood up, ushering his wife and daughter out. Mr. McCullough paused in the doorway and looked back at his son and smiled, “I love you, Dedrick,” he stated. “Make sure your storm of a spirit keeps stirring, because someday we’ll need that rain.”

Dedrick snuggled up under his comforter, nervously glancing out his window. “Is my storm like the one outside?” He asked, looking at his father.

Mr. McCullough sighed, “I really need to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight, sleep tight,” he started, grinning a bit.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Dedrick finished, laying on his side and closing his eyes, dreaming of what he hopes his storm looks like.

Pale sunlight filtered into the ice-blue bedroom, sunlight reflecting off his toys and the small radio on the corner of his desk next to a portrait of his father and mother, himself, and his little brother. His mother and brother both died shortly before he turned five. Dedrick sat up in bed and patted down some tufts in his hair, which was sticking out in all places. He swung his legs around the bed and smiled. I’m halfway through the week! He realized as he glanced at his calendar.

Dedrick jumped up and grabbed a red marker, marking an ‘X’ on May fourth. “Two more days until camping,” he sang joyfully as he rushed to his closet and threw on a fresh shirt and jeans. He slipped on his shoes and grabbed his jacket and it fit over his short sleeved shirt. The sleeves hung over his hands and he smiled when he realized he had grown a bit more.

He threw his backpack over his shoulder and walked into the bathroom and he brushed his teeth, his bright green eyes shining with innocent curiosity. Dedrick walked into the dining room. His father was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. A small cut was embedded on his cheek. “What happened at the robbery last night Dad?” Dedrick asked, dropping his backpack on the chair next to his father. Dedrick wrapped his arms around his father and hugged him.

Mr. McCullough smiled and hugged his son back. “We caught them, one of them had rings on and he slapped me, but I’m fine,” he promised. “You’d better get up to Zeke’s before the bus gets here,” the father advised.

Dedrick nodded and grabbed his backpack. “Will you walk me home after school?” He asked with his hand wrapped around the door handle. He saw his father nod, and Dedrick opened the door and sprinted up the street. Clouds still hung overhead, and the air was musty and foggy, and it was cold out.

Zeke was standing outside, chucking a stick farther into his yard, a large black lab running after it. Dedrick’s feet scuffed against the driveway as he jumped up the curb and dropped his backpack, sweat collection in his eyebrows. “You look like you were caught in the storm last night,” Zeke laughed, his blue-gray eyes flashing as his dog approached with a stick clamped in his jaws.

Dedrick grinned and grabbed the stick from the dog. “Well, running makes you sweaty, and I sprinted.”

“Did it mess up your hair too? It’s all over the place, dude!” Zeke pointed out, pressing down a tuft with his fingers. “See, this is why I use hair gel to keep my hair nice and straight.”

Dedrick put his hands on his head. “Yeah, but your hair always ends up looking flaky. I’m going to stick with my messy hair for now, thanks.”

“Are you sure Korey and his gang won’t make fun of it?” Zeke asked, craning his neck and looking up the street.

Dedrick swallowed. Korey and his two friends Carter Wilson and Ted Miller had beat him up since second grade, and Dedrick had to rely on his best friend to save him constantly. He’s started to have a little more help though, thankfully. Recently, a girl moved in to the horse ranch a couple blocks away from Cyclone Street near a pond Zeke’s dad took him fishing. Her name was Jo, and she and the two boys became fast friends when she appeared at the pond and pulled Dedrick out of it. “Well, Korey has messy hair too, so it shouldn’t make a difference, should it?”

Zeke shook his head, crossing his arms. “Korey will always find a way to get to your soft parts, and he’ll always find a way to get out of trouble when we tell.”

Dedrick scoffed, “His claims make no sense, and worse, it cost us recess.”

“Yesterday was our last day in time out, so we just have to stick near Jo and avoid him.” Zeke suggested as he picked up his backpack and stood at the curb as the loud hum of the bus came into earshot. They climbed onto the bus and made their way to the back, which had the big seat that could seat three fifth graders and their backpacks.

Jo was already waiting, her dirty blonde hair in a tight ponytail. She had her aqua blue backpack sitting on her feet, giving just enough room for the other two. “Hey guys,” she greeted as they flopped down. “Did you guys hear that storm last night?”

“Yeah, it was loud.” Dedrick commented. He didn’t want to admit to her that it gave him a nightmare. “I feel bad for my Dad; he had to go out to a robbery in that weather.”

Jo’s eyes widened. “Was anybody hurt?”

“I don’t think so. He has a deep cut on his cheek, though.” Dedrick said. “Man, I hope someday I can be like him. Saving the town from robbers… Maybe someday he’ll become a detective!”

“That’d be awesome!” Zeke exclaimed. “He’d be like Sherlock Holmes!”

Jo nodded vigorously. “And Dedrick would become Watson!”

Dedrick closed his eyes, picturing him and his father in brown plaid with candy pipes and hourglasses. I can be a storm and a detective!

“Get back, Korey!” Dedrick whimpered as the larger fifth grader shoved him against a wall. “My Dad’s a cop, and he can arrest your Dad if you hurt me!”

Korey rolled his pale brown eyes. “Can it, Dead Meat. That’s against the law anyways.” He grunted as Dedrick fought back. “Yell and it’ll hurt worse tomorrow.” Dedrick obeyed and closed his mouth, hot tears flooding his eyes. Ted pushed him down until he was sitting on the hard concrete. “Where are your ‘friends,’” he asked.

“Mrs. Peabody is keeping them in to finish some work,” Dedrick admitted. “Leave me alone!” He shouted jumping up and attempting to make a run for it. His ankle was grabbed and he fell, his right arm felt funny. The hot tears streamed down his face and washed the dirt and grit from his eyes.

Korey sat on the small boy’s chest, his knees on his elbows, and punched him in the face. The gym teacher, Mr. Potts shouted and ran toward them, and Korey and his friends ran off, another teacher ran after them. Mr. Potts crouched down next to Dedrick. “Are you okay, Dedrick?” He asked, helping the young boy up. Dedrick held his arm and rocked back and forth, sniffing, tears streaming down his bruised face. “Can you stand?” He asked. Dedrick sniffed and nodded, standing up, his head down. The kids on the playground climbed off the playground and walked closer to them, glancing curiously between both Dedrick and Korey. “Move along, children.” Mr. Potts ordered, guiding Dedrick back inside.

Dedrick was trembling as each tear glided down his face, stinging his cuts and scratches. A couple fourth graders sitting in the hall looked up at him and gasped, which made him feel worse. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and pressed his other arm against his chest, breathing heavily. Mr. Potts took him to the nurse’s office, which Dedrick knew by heart at this point. “Don’t worry, Dedrick, I’ll call Korey, Carter, and Ted’s parents immediately.” The gym teacher promised, patting Dedrick on the shoulder. “Stay strong, buddy.”

Dedrick said nothing, but let the nurse look at his arm. She gave him some tissues to clean his face with. Ms. Gabriel sighed in relief. “Just a bruise, you’ll be okay.” She evaluated. “I don’t know how you endure this every week, Dedrick, and I don’t know how you manage to get them to do this to you.”

“I-It’s not my fault.” Dedrick sniffed. “Korey n-never like me.”

Ms. Gabriel pursed her lips. “There’s something about that boy I don’t like. Maybe it’s because he hurts my favorite student,” she shrugged, getting the peroxide from her cabinet. “Don’t let them get to you, sonny, they just feel like they need to put other kids down to get to the top.”

Dedrick flinched and whimpered when she put the peroxide on his scratches and scrapes. It burned like fire. “I hope he dies.” Dedrick croaked.

Ms. Gabriel frowned, which looked extra wrinkly because of her age. “Dedrick Nubila McCullough, you never say that about anyone, not matter how much they hurt you,” she scolded.

Dedrick’s stomach lurched. “I-I’m sorry.”

Ms. Gabriel nodded, still frowning as she finished patching him up. She patted him on the wrist. “Go on back to class.”

Dedrick sat on the curb outside of the school with Zeke and Jo while they waited for their parents to pick them up. Dedrick had been quiet the rest of the day after recess, not in the mood to talk about it. He felt sick in the stomach and his wounds burned.

Zeke nudged Dedrick. “Look, we’re sorry we couldn’t be out there. I would’ve kicked their—err, their butts if I’d been out there.”

The corner of Dedrick’s mouth twitched. “Well, you got a reaction this time.” Jo pointed out. “That’s something, right?”

Dedrick looked up and he could see his dad walking up the sidewalk. “I’ve got to go,” he mumbled, pulling his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys later,” he waved before walking to his dad.

Mr. McCullough looked concerned. “What happened?” He asked as soon as they left the perimeter. “Who hurt you?” There was a hint of anger in his voice. Dedrick looked down, his cheeks turning red. He was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing again. “Dedrick, I want to help you, please tell me,” Mr. McCullough begged, grasping his son’s hand.

Dedrick sighed and nodded. “This kid, Korey Lennon Jr, he beat me up at recess.” Dedrick mumbled.

Mr. McCullough frowned. “What the heck were the teachers doing while my son was getting beat?”

“They pulled me to the side of the building and told me that if I yelled for help they would hurt me more tomorrow.” Dedrick whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

Mr. McCullough stopped, squatted down, and hugged his son. “Dedrick, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered softly into his son’s ear.

A hot tear rolled down Dedrick’s face and he hugged his father tighter. “C-can you be there for me next time?”

Mr. McCullough sniffed and pulled away, holding Dedrick an arm’s length in front of him. “I can’t promise I can protect you during recess, but I can give you advice.”

Dedrick looked into his father’s bright green eyes and nodded. “Is it to run?”

“Stay by the teachers, if you see Korey and his friends, go tell a teacher, okay?” Mr. McCullough advised, shaking his head at Dedrick’s question. “A tough boy doesn’t run, Dedrick. And you’re my tough boy.”

A week passed, and Dedrick had been called all kinds of names. Tattler, Snitch, Dead Meat, and anything in between was thrown at him during classes, lunch, and recess.

Zeke glared angrily at one of the kids that called Dedrick a curse word. Jo looked just as angry. I don’t feel tough, Dad. Dedrick thought every time a name was thrown at him and he flinched. “I hate this school. I can’t wait until we leave.”

“We’re just going to find the same people though. It sucks.” Jo sighed, kicking at a paper ball on the ground. “The kids here are jerks. Also, Korey keeps staring at me!” She whispered, looking behind them nervously, turning back looking uncomfortable.

Dedrick said nothing but stared at his wearing-out sneakers. “I want him dead.” He whispered, but no one seemed to of heard him. “I don’t see why he picks on me. I’m a person just like him.”

Zeke patted Dedrick on the back. “We’re all people, Dedrick. Normal humans tend to pick on each other because they feel bad for themselves.”

“Korey’s popular, rich, clever, smart—the complete opposite of me. He has nothing to feel bad about and I have everything to complain about.” Dedrick grunted, rubbing his arm.

“Korey doesn’t have a dad that loves him, though.” Jo pointed out. “I heard that his dad left him when he was only five and that he lives in a small mansion outside of town with a caretaker and some housekeepers.”

Dedrick slapped himself on the forehead. “So what, he has everything else in the world.”

Jo shrugged. “I’m just trying to loosen the mood a bit.”

“I think you made it tighter,” Zeke groaned.

Mr. McCullough and Dedrick walked out of the pizza parlor after having dinner after school. “Hey, I didn’t give you your birthday present, did I?” Mr. McCullough asked, reaching into his pocket. “Close your eyes.” Dedrick nodded and covered his eyes with his hands. He heard his father chuckle. “Hold out your hands, keep your eyes shut tight.”

Dedrick put his hands out, and something cold and heavy was placed in his small palms. Dedrick opened his eyes and saw a silver watch reflecting the sunlight in his hands. “A watch,” Dedrick murmured in awe, holding it closer to him so he could see it better.

Mr. McCullough nodded. “I made that watch when I was in high school. It’s never missed a tick, just like this old man’s heart,” he laughed.

“You’re not that old, dad. You’re only thirty.” Dedrick said, putting the watch in his pocket carefully.

Mr. McCullough smiled, guiding him along the sidewalk. “Thank you, Dedrick. That means a lot to me.” He smiled a squinty smile. Dedrick returned the smile, and they both laughed for a city block. “If you keep it nice and together, maybe someday you can give it to your son or daughter.”

“Really, Dad, do you mean it?”

“Yes really, Dedrick,” Mr. McCullough chuckled. Suddenly his smile dropped, and he put his hand out in front of Dedrick. No one else was walking the street, except a man in a long, dark coat was walking toward them. “Dedrick, hide behind the trash can.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Dedrick asked.

“Don’t ask questions, just… Just hide behind the dumpster!” Mr. McCullough ordered softly, fear hinted in his voice. “Go, now!”

Dedrick dived behind the dumpster, leaving his father at the sidewalk, frozen, his eyes narrowed in determination and fear. Dedrick tried not to sit on the trash under him, but the squatting was hurting his legs.

The man in the dark coat stopped in front of Mr. McCullough. “What are you doing here?” Mr. McCullough asked in a trembling voice. “I thought you said I have another week.”

“I said that last week, Ivan.” The man in the coat sneered. His voice was cold, brass, and scratchy, almost a rasp. “Where’s your boy, huh?”

Mr. McCullough took a step closer to Coat-Man. Coat-Man’s eye glowed bright red under his large hat. “You’re not taking my boy without taking my life.” Mr. McCullough said bravely.

A baseball bat appeared from Coat-Man’s coat. “I’m giving you one last chance, Ivan. Give the boy to me, and I’ll let you live on.”

“I don’t want to live on without my son,” Mr. McCullough spit. “Take me if you must, but leave my family and my town alone!”

Coat-Man raised his bat and his Mr. McCullough hard in the side. Mr. McCullough yelped and flew a couple feet onto some broken glass. Dedrick wanted to race forward and grab the Coat-Man, but something held him back as all-too familiar hot tears warmed his eyes. Coat-Man raised the bat, and hit Mr. McCullough again, and again, and again, at least seven or eight times before walking out of the alley with dark, sticky red blood spattered on the ground.

Dedrick left his bag and ran over to his father’s side, tears streaming down his face as he trembled. “Daddy, wake up Dad!” Dedrick sobbed, shaking his father. His father coughed and his eyes opened. “Dad, Dad! Stay with me, please!” He begged, grabbing his father’s broken and bruised hand.

Mr. McCullough’s dying eyes landed on Dedrick. Mr. McCullough raised a shaking hand and touched Dedrick on the cheek. “D-Dedrick… Th-there’s an n-note… In my p-p-pocket… t-take it… and r-run… D-don’t read it unt-til you’re fif-fifteen… J-just run…” He coughed up dark liquid that stained his teeth. “M-my t-t-tough b-boy…” He grinned painfully as the life was sucked out of him.

Dedrick reached inside his father’s pocket and grabbed a folded up piece of notebook paper, snot and tears running down his face and he tightened his grip on his father’s hand. “D-Dad… I’m not… I’m not leaving you here to die! D-Dad! Daddy, please!” Dedrick sobbed louder, the paper in his fist crinkling. Dedrick stood up and walked out of the alley, looking around frantically. “Help, somebody, help me! He’s hurt, my Dad! Please, somebody help him!” He pleaded, running around the corner. No one walked, no one sat, and no one stood in the street. It was vacant, like a ghost town. “Somebody, please,” Dedrick shouted, more tears streaming down his face and he dropped to his knees, realizing he was covered in blood, his father’s blood.

He trembled and sobbed, his arms feeling weaker as he bowed his head on the street, sobbing uncontrollably. Dedrick felt like he couldn’t move, he couple barely breath.

His father was gone.

His father was dead.

The one adult that believed in him was taken from him forever.

The one man who saved his life was dead, just like his mom, and just like his brother.

Dedrick had never felt so alone.