The water goes down.
5 bruised bones in the arms, legs and chest.
And down.
4 knife wounds, gashing and pulsating. Seeping. Burning.
And down.
3 times that his nose had spewed some blood. The toilet paper in the shower was clearly a bad idea, but weren’t they all?
And down.
2 tears, indistinguishable from the shower water that made his hair look mousy and messy and morose.
And down.
And 1 broken heart.
And down.
Vinnie Dakota sat in the shower/bathtub/bandage museum of his guilt inducing guests The Murphys.
His family.
His sanctuary.
His everything.
And like all things in Dakota’s short and seemingly inconsequential life…
He was failing to justify his place with them.
Sighing, his wounds ringing alarm bells in his mind, Dakota continued to sit in the tub, reflecting on the decisions that led him here.
A week ago, he had gone bowling, and, like any normal person, had considered suicide.
If that seems grim, you are clearly reading the wrong series for you.
Then, his worries were momentarily dashed with the figure of his first success (of sorts): Gretchen Galindo, a cynical and depressed former co-worker who had managed to dare to care for the first time in decades.
And for a beautiful, consistent 18 hours or so, Dakota had managed to actually believe that he could help others.
But his 45 year mission was still not complete: Cavendish had made sure of that on their date two days later.
And seeing the one person he wanted to save most be worse than all his failures sent Dakota railing.
He had returned to the Murphy’s that night, but one could tell that Dakota had never really left the restaurant.
In fact, he seemed somewhere else, somewhere all too familiar to the man who loved so much, almost too much he felt at times.
A shiver down his spine.
And for a moment, he could smell the smog of the streets.
Streets all too familiar, streets he had walked in for the past 4 nights, trying too hard as ever, failing over and over as ever.
The tears began to outrace the shower water as Dakota felt the pain.
Oh it hurt.
Even worse…
It was pointless pain, wasn’t it?
It was all… Pointless.
He…
He was pointless.
“45 years of trying to make sense of myself… You’d think I’d get better…”, he dryly chuckled, but it was more of a sob.
It was always more of a sob.
Away from the madding crowd, away from the kids he loved and the friends he cherished and the lonely girl who needed to be persuaded like he couldn’t and away from all the failures…
The clown’s smile wavered…
And his true face showed.
Vinnie Dakota was no hero.
He was the clown.
Trying to raise smiles…
And falling flat on his face.
And as the smile disappeared, so did the bath tub.
As Dakota remembered how he had replaced his inner pain with outer pain.
Sitting now on wood, instead of porcaline, feeling rainwater instead of shower water, rubbing scars on the inside rather than out, Vinnie Dakota kept a hard stare at an alleyway.
The park was normally cheerful and full of life, but it was 3 in the morning.
No one came by then…
Except for the fools and the demons.
So many were suffering…
And so many would continue too…
If he didn’t get off his ass.
As Dakota stood up, the bags in his eyes braced against the rain, but it didn’t matter.
They were staying long term it seemed, but they better be the only bad thing staying tonight.
His legs like jelly, Dakota inched across the grass, never averting his eyes from the latest threat to those he loved.
It wore black leather jackets.
It brandished pocket knives with an alluring glint.
And even more alluring, was the “special” prize they hid: Heroin.
“Taking on drug dealers… Not my smartest plan.”, Dakota admitted as he kept going.
But… When was that not the case?
Dakota knew he couldn’t take on these guys.
Even with the cavalry approaching in 3 minutes, Dakota knew that his fists could only help so much.
But right now…
Dakota didn’t give a shit if he died or not.
He had a family to protect, a suicidal friend to protect, a group of depressed co-workers to protect…
A world to protect.
More people were going to suffer…
And Dakota had, personally, gotten sick of seeing sad people in the streets of his life.
“Only one person is going to feel like shit from now on… Thank goodness I’m used to it.”
As the leaves crunched and rustled under his boots, Dakota removed his raincoat hoodie, allowing the storm to pour down and soak him.
For a moment, it felt so brisk.
It hurt.
It all hurt.
He cleared this throat, and the biggest guy turned, his smile nearly as dangerous as his substance.
“Yo! Check it out!”, he called to his “esteemed associates”, who all turned to address the new meat. “Got ourselves a customer!”
The big guy approached Dakota, and he put his hands on his shoulders, almost welcoming.
Dakota bit his tongue, resisting the urge to lunge and go crazy on him.
“…Nice place you got here. I see Ms. Jones’ recommendation was legit.”, Dakota commented, surveying the area, but no blaring lights.
Not yet.
The big guy nodded, chuckling. “She a good customer, she know the stuff.”
He took Dakota with him to the center, under a lamp post that shined dark yellow and bright.
Like a spotlight…
“Or maybe something… Nicer.”, he hoped.
Maybe…
Maybe this…
Maybe now…
He could finally make this world a better place.
He might not get to see the improvements, but…
Damn.
He’d take that in a second.
“So… Payment. We talkin’… How many pounds?”
Dakota readied his fists and his resolve as the big guy looked distracted, as his cronies fished for supplies, as his heart beat like a drum.
Taking a deep breath, thinking of the girl he was helping, Dakota let a little smile color his face.
His soul relaxed…
And he made his decision.
“Well, that depends…”
He looked up, ready and willing.
“How many poundings will it take to beat you guys down?”
The guys looked up, startled for a second. Just enough time to lay that first hook.
SMACK!
Sending the big guy wheeling to the side, but not out for the count, Dakota found fists coming at him, and naturally ducked, sending the cronies flying down at the lamp post.
You can guess what happened.
Dakota let out a tiny chuckle. “Lights out. Stupid, I know, but I had to.”
“Yeah, I get you, brother. Sometimes you need to do what you need to DO!”
SLASH!
And just like that, Dakota had a knife slash his arm, nearly gashing it completely, and a new found hatred for untimely puns.
The big guy, however, was not merciful, and a kick to the stomach and another knife gash sent Dakota to the ground.
“What did we do, man? We’re an honest establishment, and I can tell you’re not an undercover cop.”
The big guy kicked him in the chest again, as the two guys got up.
“What did we do?”, he asked, as if he didn’t know.
Dakota, spitting out blood, swiped at the big guys feet, sending him tumbling, before stumbling up and addressing the two cronies.
“You made an angel want to die. Must I say more?”
He didn’t, but he also couldn’t, as two hooks connected with his jaw, sending a jolt of pain through his body.
The metallic taste of blood graced his tongue as Dakota shook on his knees, the switchblades dangerously close now.
“People who mess with us… They don’t get to joke again.”
The big guy, who was finally up to his feet, lifted Dakota by the shirt, up close and personal.
Dakota could feel his hot breath on his face. It was not pleasant.
Silently, he offered a breath mint.
CRACK!
Predictably, Dakota met alleyway wall.
An ugly grin on his face, the big guy approached Dakota and enjoyed the sight of the former time traveller sitting out more blood onto the stone street.
Knuckles cracked above him, and Dakota tried to fight back with a punch, but his fist met the wall of steel that was the big guy’s chest.
“Not so heroic now, are ya?”
Two more knife slashes, his shoulders screaming now as Dakota collapsed onto the sidewalk, his glasses lying scratched near him.
Shivering, Dakota gazed at the reflection staring back at him as the big guy prepared his knife.
“Did you really think you could stop us with just your fists?”
“…Well, that’s what I did, so obviously yes…”, Dakota breathed out as he continued to stare at his reflection.
The big guy laughed, and his cronies joined, as the lamppost lights made them even more imposing.
“You actually thought that someone like you could do anything important? You actually thought you could save someone?”
As Dakota’s breath slowed down, his reflection continued staring back.
Bleeding. Heaving. Nearly dead.
Dakota had never felt more important.
More alive.
Sure, maybe he wouldn’t survive…
But for once, Joni would do more than that.
And that was more than enough.
Determination swelling in his heart, Dakota got up to his feet slowly but surely, nearly buckling but sticking the landing anyway.
Turning towards them, he had a knowing smile.
A peaceful smile.
His mind was made.
“…Yeah. I did. And I will.”
He motioned them to come closer.
“So come on! You chicken? Like a chicken? Living, mind you. The food ones can’t exactly be afraid of anything, on account that they’re sort of totally dead.”
The big guy scowled.
“I will not miss your jokes.”
The three dealers began to run at Dakota, and sure that they were too late for him, Dakota extended his arms in self sacrifice, comforted that at least the 3 criminals would be arrested.
“You got one more, chuckles?”, the big guy asked, his knife nearly beheading Dakota.
Suddenly…
WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO!
Though it removed all meaning of his self sacrifice, Dakota was happy that the cavalry was finally here.
Grinning at the now startled big guy, Dakota let out one last joke: “Well, yeah, but you might not like the punchline.”
While 6 heavily armed policemen wrestled the dealers to the ground, the chief, an elderly African American, approaches Dakota, an appreciative look on his face.
He grips Dakota’s hand, Dakota barely being able to recognize the action, so beaten up he is.
“Mr. Dakota, I don’t even know how to start thanking you!”, The Chief showers praise, but Dakota motions him to stop, not willing to have any of it.
“Then don’t. It’s not why I did it.”
The Chief nods, recounting an offscreen conversation.
“The process is already underway. We’re already looking for potential families for her. And Ms. Jones will receive the treatment/punishment she deserves.”
Dakota let a little smile decorate his cut lips. He finally helped someone.
Not that it would be enough.
It never was.
“I think what most impresses me is how you vocally delivered a slash.”
As the dealers got thrown into the back of a police van, The Chief climbed inside, a congratulatory pat given to his best officer, Bret.
He then knelt down and looked at Dakota, who looked like he was about to fall down and go to sleep for a few millennia.
“Hospital’s right next to the station. We could even get you a donut box. I know a guy.”
Dakota politely declined. “Thanks… But I’ve gotta go somewhere else.”
The Chief nodded, tipping his hat, and the van raced off, Dakota leaving in the opposite direction, barely feeling anything but his racing heart.
Joni was safe now.
…So how come did he still feel unfulfilled?
Half an hour later, he did feel something…
“OUCH!
Pain.
Not that that’s new.
“That hurts!”
“Well, that’s what happens when you go up against 3 drug dealers!”, the voice holding the needle shouted, a concerned scolding the reason for her words.
Dimly lit, but not enough to hide all the posters of Tom Selleck and embroidered pillows with cutesy puns, the room in which Dakota was currently suffering in was spacious, but mostly because of the absence of someone.
Marjory shook her head, as she poured some more soda for her patient, her mustard yellow couch now ketchup stained with Dakota’s blood. And actual ketchup.
Dakota got snacky when he was being stitched up.
“Vinnie, you’re wonderful, really. But what the hell were you thinking?”, Marjory chided, shaking her head in disbelief as she tore some more bandaging.
Dakota sighed as he felt another cut being covered up. Even though that was only the first cut Marjory was covering today.
“You’re lucky that I was a trained nurse who just so happened to formerly live next to you. Like, this is the kind of luck that gets whined about by sweaty 30 something year olds in their basements on clickbait movie list sites!”
Dakota, still vividly remembering the reason for his beating, and the reason for his loneliness, began to huff and puff. “Yes, Marjory, I know that I’m lucky!”
Marjory crossed her arms, her mouth already chewing another lozenge to sooth her throat. “You know, sassing someone with scissors is only your second dumbest idea today.”
Dakota, to his surprise, was actually getting angry.
“Ok, are you going to do like a steryotypical mom and spend all night guilt tripping me?”
“If I must! Dakota, I don’t think you truly understand what you did tonight!”, Marjory complained, covering up the second and third cuts.
“Owch!”, Dakota yipped out, small tears of pain crawling down uncontrollably.
“Sorry.”, Marjory apologized genuinely, wiping some of the sweat off of his brow.
For a few minutes, silence reigned, and no one dared speak a word.
But Dakota’s mind continued to force him to see it all: All of his life flashed past, and as ever, it felt so… So…
He had to make her see.
Right now… She was the only one.
He wasn’t there anymore.
…He would never return.
And it was just more proof that it was just so… So…
“Marjory…”, Dakota barely breathed out, seeing it turn into cold wind in the air, floating away… Pointlessly.
He shifted himself on the couch a little, facing the tireless sextegenarian.
For a moment, he was almost guilt stricken, but he had to show her, he HAD to!
“Look, I know that I got lucky, but…”
“But what?!”, Marjory shot back, perhaps a little too loudly.
“Ok, just stop!”, Dakota shouted out, losing it.
Why did no one see?!
Standing up, despite his injuries, Dakota began to tirade.
“Yes, I got lucky, I know that! You think I don’t? You think I don’t know how lucky I am to be alive? How lucky I am to have met Cavendish? How lucky I was to even pass the fucking academy? I lucked out when I met Milo and his friends, I lucked out when I “saved” Brick, Savannah and Gretchen, I lucked out 45 years ago when I was born and my family mercifully chose to not kill me but just abandon me! I know that I’m lucky to be alive…. The problem is that I don’t know why I am!”
Calming down, Dakota’s vision began to blur.
He began to lose his balance, his eyes closing.
“I… I don’t know…”
Tears falling at the same time as him, Dakota was lucky not to smash onto the floor, thanks to Marjory’s fast hands.
“Vinnie, please… Lie down.”
Back on the couch, Dakota could barely articulate, but as he looked at Marjory, guilt flooded him once more.
Looking down, almost like a boy in trouble, Dakota tearfully apologized. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m such a jerk. Here you are, up at 4 AM making sure I don’t bleed to death and all I can do is get angry at you for my lack of purpose.”
Marjory wasn’t upset though. On the contrary, she let out a chuckle, followed by a coughing fit.
“Vinnie, darling, I would have been up regardless. At least I get to help you instead of helping myself to more cold lasagna leftovers!”.
She smiled warmly, but Dakota still wept, years of keeping it in under a smile suddenly breaking down.
Marjory saw this and caressed his cheek, removing a tear.
“Oh, baby… What’s wrong? Why are you saying all these things?”
Dakota could barely face her. “It’s just… All my life, I’ve been trying to justify it.”
“Justify what?”
“…Me.”
Silence reigned again, only broken by the occasional sob from Dakota.
“The only thing that has ever made me feel alive… Made me happy… Was making other people happy. But every time I do it, it doesn’t work.”
“That’s not true. What about that Gretchen girl you told me about a few days ago?”
Dakota shook his head, resigned to his fate. “Knowing my life… She’s probably all depressed again. And there’s nothing I can do.”
He buried his head in his hands. “I failed Brick, Savannah, Caven… Caven…”
“Don’t say it; I know.”
Sniffling, Dakota nodded thankful. “Him… …And… And I know, just know that if something was to happen to Milo… Or Melissa, or Zack, or Sara or Amanda… Then I’d just fail again.”
He collapsed back onto the sofa, his neck tense and rigid. “The whole Gretchen thing made me hopeful again, but then the date happened. That doesn’t mean nothing. If I can’t help the man I love most, how can I help anyone?”
“Well, didn’t tonight help that Joni girl?”
Dakota chuckled darkly. “I doubt it will. Her problems won’t go away just like that. And besides… It’s not enough.”
Marjory shook her head. “What are you talking about? What is enough?”
Dakota stammered. “I… I… I don’t know.”
“Yes. You. Do.”
“No. I. Don’t!”
Marjory ran her hand through his hair, momentarily calming him down. “Yes… You… Do…”
Dakota shook with anger and disappointment, hot tears streaming down. “It will never be enough, ok? I’m not good enough, I’ve never been!”
Marjory suddenly hugged him, hard and long, making Dakota cry even more, as he felt something he had never felt before: The love of a mother.
“Vinnie… You are a good man. No… You are a wonderful man.”
She shushed him as she cried as well. “Never in my life have I met someone so selfless.”
Dakota sobbed silently. “I’d… I’d die now… If it made Cav happy…”
“I know… I know dear…”
She separated for a moment, and with a tilt of her head, gestured towards a picture on her side cabinet. “…But trust me: Dying won’t fix it. When someone is gone, they’re gone.”
Dakota knew. He didn’t need to address it. “…I’m sorry about Vern.”
“Vern’s time was up.”
She kissed Dakota on the forehead. “Yours isn’t.”
The scene slowly melted, as Marjory’s final words echoed in Dakota’s mind as the shower water returned.
“…Your happiness is important too. Don’t give up on Cavendish… But don’t give up on yourself. You’d be surprised to find out just how many people love you.”
Back in the shower, Dakota sighed, hurting his ribs in the process.
He slowly stood up, blood still dripping down from his cuts.
Only now did he realize that he was still wearing his glasses.
Or were things always this unclear?
“…People… Love me?”
He knew it was true, in a sense, but it was also so unreal.
After all, what had he actually done?
Milo and the kids barely knew him, and it was mostly just because he had saved them a few times from pistachio monsters HE helped create (accidentally but still).
Brick and Savannah were complicated, and it seemed like they were too confused about themselves to even be able to approach any other relationship, let alone a friendship with him.
Gretchen sort of idolized him (somehow), so that didn’t count.
Cavend…
The shower curtain ripped off.
He wasn’t going to say it.
…Was there really anyone who loved him?
Did all those people he kept failing really want him in their lives?
Looking in the mirror, Dakota saw himself.
Standing naked in the bathroom, with his scars out for all to see, with nowhere to hide or run, Dakota felt so utterly alone.
His hands trembled as they leaned down on the sink, and he squinted at himself, his skin beginning to wrinkle from the shower.
His hair was somehow still greasy and now all over the place.
His eyes were almost bloodshot, and tear filled, weary and tired of… He didn’t even know anymore.
His nose was apparently broken (he hadn’t even noticed that).
His fingers shook every few moments and his cuts still made their presence known.
His legs felt like jelly, he was sure he was going to buckle any minute.
But then he’d get hurt.
…Not that that was a bad thing, but still.
“Gotta… Gotta look on the bright side…”, Dakota told himself, though it was less sure than usual. “Gotta… Can’t let them down.”
They needed the fun loving Dadkota who was always there. The one who never hurt and never felt sad. The one who loved them so very much.
“…Just… Laugh it off…”
He had to. He had to be the clown.
He had to be there for them.
Turning around, with an exaggerated smile, Dakota saw it: The audience.
They laughed and clapped as he entered, his scars and cuts now covered up with his regular costume, and strikingly white clown makeup.
Grabbing a microphone, Dakota walked down the bathroom, that had turned into a stage.
“You’re probably wondering about my cuts. Shouldn’t you go to hospital, Dakota? But, well, hospital food is terrible, you know? If I’m gonna get hurt, it’s going to be next to a deli!”, he started, a fake smile on his face.
Shrieks of laughter rang out, and Dakota took it all in stride.
He had to.
He had to be the joke, or else they would see.
As the laughter died out, Dakota began to excitedly walk around again.
“Hey, hey, now: Let’s not knock our doctors too much! They take good care… Of their salaries!”
More laughter as Dakota straightened his tie, but as he removed his hand, he saw that it was splattered with blood.
Laughing nervously, he wiped it on his chest, the bright red now beginning to spread like a spurting ink pen.
“Ok, so… You’re probably wondering HOW I got said cuts? Well, you see…”
But Dakota couldn’t start the joke.
Suddenly, a loud buzzing echoed in his ears, and he struggled to keep up the illusion.
The audience laugh was slowly in the background, and all Dakota could see was the slashing of knives on his body.
“Well… It’s a funny story…”
But it was getting progressively less funny as he began to cough blood again.
The audience continued to laugh, though, oddly oblivious to the things right in front of them.
“Well… Um… It’s… It’s really funny!”
Dakota now saw his friends and family look up to him. Begging for him to help them. They needed him. They needed him to protect them. To love them. Like… Like…
“It’s… Woah, I’m actually bleeding, it’s so funny!”
Dakota whole shirt was red and his eyes were overflowing with tears.
On his knees, Dakota was suddenly given a small misshapen thing.
The woman above him nodded, and Dakota heard her run off in the rain, her footsteps echoing in the halls of his mind.
Looking down, Dakota spotted a bundle of blankets, squirming and crying.
As he looked down, he saw something unexpected…
Himself.
Sobbing uncontrollably, Dakota embraced the bundle, saying...
“It’s funny… Because it’s…”
The audience continued to laugh hard, drowning out his sobs.
Dakota could barely articulate, but what he said was:
“Because it’s me…”
The audience disappeared, and Dakota was back.
A mess.
Chaos.
The clown face was off.
Looking back in the mirror, Dakota felt…
“…Come on… Keep it together Vinnie…”
He tried. He tried so hard.
Just roll with the punches. Just make the joke. Just be the joke. Maybe it will raise a smile on their faces. Maybe it will encourage them.
Maybe it will show them it’s not so bad.
But inside…
Inside you’re hurting.
Dakota bowed his head, not even trying to hide it anymore.
The fake smile finally dropped and the real face was shown.
“The joke is on me…”
“How could I ever think that… That I could do anything but fail?”
Dakota sobbed and sobbed, the tears running down into his mouth.
“…I want to live… But… But what if I just… Get in the way?”
Marjory said that people love him.
And Dakota, even though he didn’t get it, knew that people did love him and care for him.
But… He had to keep the mask!
Milo, Melissa, Zack, Sara, Amanda, Brick, Savannah, Gretchen, Joni…
They all needed someone to smile and laugh and cheer them up and believe in them.
Even if he didn’t believe in himself for a second.
Even if that razor seemed real tempting…
And that rest seemed so…
Good.
But he couldn’t rest.
He could never rest.
“I’ve failed helping my loved ones so many times… But if I give up, I’m no better than my parents. I… Someone needs to love them. They must have what I didn’t.”
Dakota wiped the tears away, and puffed his chest.
“They need Vinnie Dakota… No matter what.”
But…
Sighing, Dakota looked in the mirror.
A fact he had tried so hard to avoid the last few days, to the extent of forbidding his name being spoken, was finally rising up from the depths of his soul.
“But I can’t do it right… If I keep sulking. Cavendish…”
He wanted to.
He wished he could.
He would have given everything for it, everything for another chance at happiness, for him AND for Cavendish.
He…
He HAD given everything.
And…
And it was time to face the ugly truth staring back at him in the mirror.
It was time to remove the blurry glasses and face the facts head on, with no fear.
It was time to be real and grow up.
It was time to stop joking around…
And be the man his family needs.
With a face full of guilt, scorn and self loathing, Dakota said the thing he hated most of all:
“I can’t save him. He’s too far gone. Besides…”
He said it happily, but the tears continued to shed.
“My happiness isn’t as important as theirs.”
Still, Dakota’s mind kept shouting and shouting for love.
To help Cavendish.
To love him.
To save him from himself and give him the life Dakota had sacrificed so much for.
But Dakota was tired.
Tired of failing others and tired of loving those who didn’t return it.
Breathing hard, Dakota slammed the sink.
“GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD, VINNIE!”
He shook violently.
“He doesn’t love you! And that’s final! You can’t force him to change!”
In a silent voice, he added:
“No matter how much you want to.”
Dakota then adopted a cold air about him, trying his best to distance himself from the emotional mess he was so involved in.
He had to make it small, otherwise he’d be destroyed.
Looking starkly at himself for the first time in years, Dakota layed out the truth:
“And he doesn’t want it, anyway.”
Wiping the tears off, Dakota clenched his fists and took deep, cleansing breaths.
It almost felt good, it almost felt liberating to free himself of Cavendish, and vice versa.
He’d be able to focus on the other people in his life and not guilt over it!
A small voice still argued against it all, against abandoning the man Dakota loved so much.
But Dakota refused.
He had to do this.
He had to.
“Face the facts, Dakota: If you want to justify yourself… You must give up on Cavendish.”
The soft, almost solemn piano chords of “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” started as Dakota took deep and slow breaths, trying to kill his feelings for the sake of his family:
Vinnie Dakota: When Are You Gonna Come Down? When Are You Going To Land?
Dakota stared directly into the mirror, singing not only to Cavendish…
But to himself.
As he sang, he remembered one of his worst memories, and a shiver ran down his spine as he realized that even a selfish monster like his Father could be right about one thing.
Vinnie Dakota: I Should Have Stayed On The Farm, I Should Have Listened To My Old Man…
The tears still streamed down as Dakota shaved the remnents of his beard, looking like himself again.
His hand shook as he put it down, but despite the strong urge that was always there, it didn’t return covered in blood.
Taking another deep breath, he saw Cavendish in the mirror, smiling that smile that melted Dakota’s heart.
It was calling for him, beckoning.
Promising a better tomorrow.
Dakota reached out his hand to the outstretched offer.
It felt so…
Right…
But this time, he would not fall for the illusion.
This time…
He would be free.
Vinnie Dakota: You Know You Can’t Hold Me Forever… I Didn’t Sign Up With You…
The tears continued, but Dakota gripped the sink and gritted his teeth, hell bent on letting go.
All the times of neglect, of insults and putdowns, all the years of lack of gratitude, all the wasted time waiting for love…
With one swift and decisive motion, he wiped the tears away…
And bid farewell to Balthazar Cavendish.
Vinnie Dakota: I’m Not A Present For Your Friends To Open… This Boy’s Too Young To Be Singing… The BLUEEEEEEEEEESSS!
As the chorus sang out the first verse, Dakota turned his back on the vision of Cavendish, and walked out in his robe to his bedroom, leaving wet footprints on the floor.
Vinnie Dakota:
So Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Where the Dogs of Society Howl
You Can't Plant Me In Your Penthouse
I'm Going Back To My Plough
Back To The Howling Old Owl In The Woods
Hunting The Horny Back Toad
Oh I've Finally Decided My Future Lies
Beyond The Yellow Brick Road!
In the room, Dakota found his regular clothes…
But he was a new man.
A new Dakota.
Perhaps a physical statement would help really get the message across.
Throwing away his old clothes, Dakota adopted a new wear from the clothes lying around in the Murphy household (as odd as that sounds, the Murphy’s were pretty ok with lending each other clothes, since they all really wore one outfit anyway, so it didn’t really matter who took what).
A few minutes later, Dakota came out to the second verse, decked out in the “Snack Daddy” hat Sara made him, a hot pink shaded blouse Brigette didn’t wear anymore, a pair of Martin’s green Khaki’s that thankfully didn’t shrink too much in the wash, and a pair of loafers just like Milo.
“Balthy would NEVER have approved of this.”, Dakota thought, in a mixture of remorse… But also excitement.
It was thrilling…
Being himself.
And as he walked down to the living room, he sang out, almost triumphant, as he left Cavendish spiritually:
Vinnie Dakota: What Do You Think You’ll Do Then? Bet That’ll Shoot Down Your Plane!
Dakota walked down with a smile, reaching the Murphy Living Room, darkly lit, but still with a glimmer of light.
A glimmer of hope.
Getting a little excited with his brave new world, Dakota took hold of a broom and began waltzing with it, directing all his words to Cavendish.
Vinnie Dakota: It’ll Take You A Couple of Vodka and Tonics To Set You On Your Feet Again!
Now adopting a more melancholy tone, Dakota caressed the broom, sadness in his eyes as he reminisced over the man he had loved so much.
The man he would have given everything to.
The man who broke his heart in a million pieces…
And the man he was willing to let do that again and again and again…
But no more.
Not again.
Vinnie Dakota: Maybe You’ll Get A Replacement… There’s Plenty Like Me To Be Found…
Real anger and resentment popped out as Dakota thought of all the bad times…
And he let it out, with no restraint.
Vinnie Dakota: Mongrels, who ain’t got a penny… Sniffing for tidbits like you on the grooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuund!
And the chorus sang once again as Dakota threw the broom away and leapt onto the sofa, arms outstretched, eyes closed, heart swelling in his chest.
He was Vinnie Dakota…
And he was free to exist.
Vinnie Dakota: So Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Where The Dogs of Society Howl
You Can't Plant Me In Your Penthouse
I'm Going Back To My Plough
Back To the Howling Old Owl In The Woods
Hunting The Horny Back Toad
Oh I've Finally Decided My Future Lies
Beyond The Yellow Brick Road!!!
The chorus finished and Dakota collapsed onto the sofa, letting out a huge sigh of relief.
Feeling the cushions slowly envelope and caress his hands, letting his neck relax for the first time in years and feeling free enough to put his feet on the coffee table was only second most to the people who suddenly entered the room, back from another Murphy’s Law filled day at school.
“Hey, Dadkota!”, Milo, Melissa, Zack, Sara and Amanda all greeted, in varying levels on enthusiasm, from Sara’s high pitched yell to Milo’s surprisingly not as energetic as you’d expect call to Amanda’s shy and reserved wave.
Beaming like the proudest parent ever (which was very accurate), Dakota leapt to his feet and ran over to squeeze his favorite kids, smushing them with his unconditional love.
His favorite kind, despite never having it.
“Dadkota… You’re… Kind of hugging too hard…”, Zack observed between gaps of breath, but Dakota, eyes shut tight, shook his head.
“Nope… Not enough at all.”
Despite everything he had gone through, despite the events of the last few days, Dakota had made sure that these kids, who loved him for some reason, would receive what they deserved no matter what his mood was.
It was a stark difference to Cavendish, who didn’t like showing his affection (though deep down, even he didn’t know how much he loved them all), and the kids definitely noticed it.
They didn’t like playing favorites of course, but after the disastrous date, the preference of Dadkota was a little more apparent.
Finally setting themselves free from the almost smothering love, the kids all surrounded Dakota with questions, which this time he was a little happier to answer.
“How are you today?”, Milo asked, clear worry and concern in his tone. The usually optimistic boy was feeling worse lately, thanks to the recent slew of events nearly leading him to lose his friends, so seemingly losing Cavendish had hit hard.
Knowing that he had nearly lost Dakota as well was almost too much to bare.
Dakota responded with an affectionate ruffle of Milo’s hair, causing the jinx to laugh cheerfully.
“Well, you’re all here. How bad can I be?”
Melissa, who was already on the phone for reasons Dakota didn’t know, balanced that and a notepad as she shot her quarry.
“Did you get any sleep? You’ve been oddly silent, what with the snores not tearing holes in the Murphy’s heads, apparently.”
Dakota rolled his eyes and snarkily whispered “I don’t know, did you confess to Milo?”
Melissa responded with a loving elbow, and Dakota chuckled as she then added seriously “You didn’t sneak off, right?”
Dakota had to lie of course, since Melissa could probably kill him if she wanted to. So he answered with a question. “Did you ace that chemistry test you were so worried about?”
Her response came in the form of the circle game, and as she looked at him through her fingers she said “Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.”
The snarky conversation was finished with a warm “I knew you would.”
The genuine smile on her face said it all.
While Melissa resumed her increasingly heated conversation with the mysterious recipient of her call, Dakota sat back down to find Sara holding a warm cup of espresso and Zack holding a breath mint.
Dakota thanked them with his eyes and proud smile and as he took a sip, he asked about their day.
“How were rehearsals?”
“Oh, fantastic! I’m really getting the gist of my costume designs for this one! I mean, I personally think “Scott Pilgrim Vs The World” could use more robots and raging homosexuals, but I guess I’m alone in that respect.”
Dakota wheezed with laughter as he took the mint and looked at Zack.
“That bad?”
“Dude, when did you last sleep?”, Zack asked, sassy look on his face.
“I don’t know, about as long since you started biting your nails.”, he pointed out, before holding his hand. “What’s up?”
Zack knew that Dakota’s concern was not a joke.
But…
He wasn’t brave enough.
Not yet.
Not in front of all these people.
“…Nothing.”
Dakota sighed and shot him finger guns. “When nothing becomes too hard to ignore, my office is open. Payment is two breakfast burritos and some extra self esteem from you, got it?”
Zack nodded, smiling brightly, as Amanda marched past Dakota with a first aid kit.
“Ok, ok, give him some space, Personas! This man needs medical attention, stat!”
Dakota lifted his hands, as if he had just been caught by the police. Considering who was now lifting his shirt, he wasn’t that wrong.
“Who leaked me out?”, he asked with a sheepish smile.
“Last I checked, that shirt was pink, not red.”
Amanda was… Different to the others.
She always was, but the last few months, something had happened.
Dakota was pretty sure he knew, but so far, every time he tried…
“So… Are you gonna tell…”
“Hell no.”
See?
Dakota sighed as Amanda rubbed some gauze, only to notice some dangling bandages.
Feigning shock, she reprimanded him with a grin. “I thought I was the only one who got to point out your stupidity.”
“It’s a free country. Isn’t the 28th amendment “You have the right to give Dakota free medical care if he arrives at your house”?”
Amanda tutted, but in a loving way. “Not a single word of that sentence was right.”
“What about this sentence: Something is wrong with you and you don’t need to feel embarrassed next to me?”
Amanda gulped as Dakota added, arms outstretched. “I do more than my share of embarrassing myself! You don’t need to worry about that.”
Amanda turned her head away, and the beginning of a tear formed on her eye lids.
Dakota, eyes wide and all too serious, karate chopped it away.
“Come to me IF you want to, ‘kay?”
Amanda couldn’t help but smile softly as she applied another bandage. “If I ever do, you can bet it will be with you.”
Dakota took a moment to close his eyes and smile.
Sure, life had been hard recently, but the kids had really been great to him, and feeling such love was just…
Electryfing.
Speaking of things getting electrocuted…
“Where’s Martin, by the by? And Brigette? Don’t tell me they’re removing another truck from his armpit!”
Melissa answered by throwing a coat at Dakota’s face.
“Don’t get a cold on the way, and you’ll see them finishing all your egg rolls.”
Dakota, removing the coat and playfully throwing it back, joked “I thought it was my job to nag you all.”
Milo and Zack, getting their coats on, grinned. “No, it’s your job to let us help you get back on your feet.”
Dakota smiled, albeit sadly now, as he leaned on the wall, making circles on the window pane that was cold as ice, yet somehow also warm. “I’d say that today has been better than ever.”
“Then let’s make sure it stays like that. Going out will get you back to normal and off of thinking about…”
Melissa didn’t finish, and no one dared continue.
Dakota nodded, agreeing. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Egg Rolls, my kids, and therapeutic get togethers are three of my seven favorite winter activites.”
Sara cheered as she kicked the door open, which of course made it fall off its hinges. “Then let’s get this party started!”
Dakota laughed heartily, and the family chanted egg rolls as they entered the car, Dakota taking one last look at the sky.
“...45 years… I guess it was worth it…”