Timmy

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: FINAL CURTAIN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: FINAL CURTAIN

Moments later, Jeff climbed up into the crawlspace and pushed passed the backdrop to find the make shift room darker than usual.  He strained his eyes against the darkness and found Timmy standing in the middle of the room with his back turned to him, looking out the window, into the alley.  He was wearing a long black cloak, making him appear almost invisible in the dim light of the candles. Jeff swallowed hard; he could hear Timmy breathing hard and crying through gritted teeth.

“Timmy?” Gently, he asked. “Are you okay?”

  Timmy let out a long sigh before he spoke in a cold, even tone. “I’m an orphan, Jeff. Stone and his men killed my parents and left me for dead.”

  “You are not an orphan, Timmy.” Firmly but kindly, Jeff countered. “The boys and I...”

  “You and the boys from the orphanage are good friends.” Flatly, Timmy interrupted. “You’ve always been there for me but you can never replace what I had lost.”

  He turned suddenly, just as lightning flashed outside. The added light revealed that he was wearing tight fitting black cotton pants, shirt, and jacket with the dark cloak covering it all. Just under his right eye was a short but deep gashing wound where Stone’s bullet had grazed his face.

  “Timmy, you’re hurt!”

Jeff took a step forward, concerned but Timmy side stepped out of his path and moved passed him. It was not his intention to ignore or reject his friend’s offer for help; there was no time to waste.  Instead, Timmy slowly walked to the backdrop where he pushed it aside with the intention of slipping away.  Before leaving, however, he paused and turned to him.

  “This is my world, Jeff. What life I might have had is gone; I know that now.  But I will not let Stone do this to Angel; I will stop him.” He shook with rage, his voice quivering. “I will stop them all.”

  Timmy then vanished into the darkness of the crawlspace with Jeff on his heels. Only by the time he reached the storeroom, Timmy was already gone and he could not tell if he used the ventilation system or the secret hallways. “He’s really going after them.” Trembling, he said. “This can’t be good.”

  Near the brink of tears, Jeff opened the door of the storeroom and walked into the hall, only to run into the blurry Max who immediately took his arm with an iron grip and pushed him hard against the wall.

  “This is the second time I caught you up here, boy.  Just what are you coming up here for?”

  “Go look for yourself, Max.” taunted Jeff, angrily.

  Max twisted Jeff’s arm, forcing him to yell out. “Let’s just find out what’s so interesting about this storeroom, shall we?”

  He opened the door and pushed Jeff through before following. He scanned the room and spotted the ladder leading to a trap door in the ceiling. Knowing what it must be, a sinister smile formed on his face. “So, that’s where he’s been hiding all this time.” He pushed Jeff into the ladder. “Start climbing, boy!”

  Jeff reluctantly climbed the ladder into the crawlspace with Max following him with his heavy handgun at the ready. The second he was inside, Jeff rushed passed the first backdrop, vanishing into the dark. Max thrust the backdrop aside, giving pursuit.  However, he did not know how low the ceiling was and struck his head against the first heavy wood support beam.  He cursed as he fell backwards; almost falling through the trap door, then went after Jeff more carefully. “You are dead, kid!”

  Upon reaching the second backdrop, Max thrust it aside to find the makeshift room Timmy had called home.  The candle lit scene that met him was eerie enough to make him pause in awe. Just long enough to allow Jeff to throw the prop door open and scramble through the window, out onto the fire escape.  Max was quick to return to his senses and he gave chase. Inside the vents, Timmy paused as a ghostly boy appeared in his path.

“Your friend is in trouble!” Urgently, he said. “Max is chasing him onto the fire escape!”

As the ghost vanished, Timmy heard Max’s shout through the vents and  hurried back to the crawlspace, fearful for Jeff. “Max, if you hurt him…”

**********

Inside the lobby of the theater, a stout but heavily muscular bald man in a security uniform stood before John and Brandy Stravis with a tall powerfully built man in a police uniform as he was being questioned.

“Mr. and Mrs. Stravis, I am Rick Tanner; owner and operator of Stone Security.” Politely, he said. “I can assure you that my company has no nor had any affiliations with your head of security, Johan Stone.” He motioned to the two police officers behind him. “We are working hand in hand with the police to find and arrest these criminals.”

“Have you caught any of them yet, Chief O’Douglas?” Worried, Brandy pressed. “I will not place those kids in jeopardy by running the show with any of those murderers on the loose.”

“We’re working on it, Mrs. Stravis.” Firmly, O’Douglas replied. “I have my finest detectives searching for the boy; they will find him.”

“We have searched the entire theater, Stone and his men are not here.” Serious, Rick added. “I have all of my men surrounding the building to make sure they stay out.”

“Run your musical.” Serious, the police officer said. “If any one of Stone’s men tries anything, we will be there to stop them.”

  “If you are certain…” Wincing, Brandy said.

“You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Stravis.” Confident, Rick assured. “We have this under control.”

Brandy managed a smile then walked away with her husband following while Rick exited the theater. He walked to the curb and stepped into a security vehicle where he took up the radio. “The musical will be run on schedule, Stone.” Calmly, he reported. “You better make this look like an accident; I betting my whole company on this.”

Stone darkly radioed back, “A company that would not exist without my funding; just make sure your seen doing your job and nothing will be linked back to you.”

**********

  Out on the fire escape, Jeff carefully inched his way towards the ladder leading down to the next floor, shaking.  He looked down for a moment then forced himself to look straight ahead of him as the alley floor below began to spin. “I hate heights!”

  “You won’t have to worry about it for long.” Stepping out of the window, Max said. “I should thank you for making this easy for me; a kid falling from an old fire escape won’t look as suspicious as one found shot to death in an attic.”

  Jeff took a defensive stance. “We’ll see who takes a dive, Max!” Angry, he challenged. “I know you killed Timmy’s parents but you had help; only now you’re alone!”

He hoped that his shout would be heard in the alley but quickly found that any echoes fell dead against the old bricks of the other building like a giant sound barrier. “No wonder no one heard the shots.”

  Max chuckled. “I’m willing to bet it was you and your brother who saved the boy’s life.”  Jeff swallowed as Max took a threatening step forward. “I wonder; who will save you?”

  Jeff sneered at him, enraged. “Shut up and bring it on!”

  Max lunged at Jeff but was met with an impressive array of punches and kicks that kept him at bay. Jeff held nothing back; he fought with fist, foot, elbow, nails, and teeth. Still, he proved to be no match for Max’s superior strength and was soon over powered. Jeff screamed as he was hoisted up and thrown over the railing. “I was too late to save the poor boy.” Mockingly, Max said. “He was so distraught over not getting a role in the musical that he just had to end it all.”

Jeff felt something push him as he fell and he grabbed for the railing of the tenth floor. His hand slipped and he fell again only to be pushed by an invisible force again. This time, he caught himself on the third floor fire escape railing. Above him, Max looked over the railing, expecting to see the boy sprawled out on the alley floor but scowled as he found that Jeff had miraculously managed to catch himself on the railing of the third floor fire escape. “You lucky punk!”

He moved to descend after him but paused upon hearing hurried footsteps echoing from inside the dark crawlspace. He turned; touching the handle of his gun but was caught off guard by Timmy leaping headfirst through the window, letting out an angry yell that almost resembled a battle cry. He rammed Max in midair with his shoulder, pushing him hard against the railing of the old fire escape. At the same time, he swung a heavy fist, slamming Max in the jaw with the ring he wore. The railing broke against their combined weight and Max fell, tumbling down twelve stories. Unknown to him, ghostly hands slowed his decent but then roughly dropped him into a full restaurant dumpster hard enough to form a bit of a garbage ‘splash’. Shaken but not seriously injured, Max pulled himself out of the dumpster just as a lone squad car entered the alley with its sirens blaring.

  On the fire escape, Timmy had managed to catch himself on the broken railing but just barely. He climbed back up onto the landing and looked down into the alley to see the two policemen placing Max in handcuffs. He then turned to Jeff and heard him calling for help. Timmy winced and moved to descend to his aid only Jeff lost his grip and fell to the alley floor near the police who moved to assist him. Knowing that Jeff was safe, he stepped back through the crawlspace window as the ghost of a young girl appeared before him.

  “Your friend is safe.” Calmly, she said. “You need not worry.”

  Timmy sighed, his face dead and expressionless. “That’s one down; four more to go.”

  “Well if it isn’t Max Karl.” Placing handcuffs on Max’s wrists one policeman said. “Chief O’Douglas said you were one of Stone’s men.”

  “Where is your boss?” asked the second. Max refused to speak. “How did you end up lying in the dumpster anyway?”


  Max looked up and the first officer followed his gaze to the broken railing of the fire escape.  “Hey, Chuck.”

  “What is it, Harry?”

  Chuck looked up, spotted the broken fire escape, and let out a low whistle before turning back to Max. “You’re lucky to be alive, friend.”

  “He- Help!” Weakly, Jeff cried.

The police officers looked up in time to see Jeff fall from the third floor onto the alley floor in a heap. Harry ran up to him as Chuck kept a firm hold onto Max. “What were you doing up there, kid?” Scolding, he asked.

  “That man tried to kill me!” Wincing in pain, Jeff explained.

  “The railing must have given way in the struggle.” Angry, Chuck mussed.

  “Hang on, kid.” Reaching for his radio, Harry said. “You’re safe now.”

  As Chuck led a dazed Max to the squad car, Harry called in.

  “Car seven zero to dispatch.”

  A female dispatcher responded, “Go ahead, seven zero.”

  “We have one of the kidnap suspects in custody. We also have an injured boy suffering from multiple contusions and a possible concision; we need back up and an ambulance at the Open Door Theater on Broadway and Grand.”

  Seconds later, the wheels of squad cars squealed from every part of the theater district as they all sped towards the theater with their sirens blaring while an ambulance was dispatched to the scene. Inside the theater, Timmy quietly vanished into the secret hallways of the theater. Before he got too far, the ghostly image of a well-dressed man appeared. “The police are on their way.” Calmly, he said. “Let them handle this.”

“This is my fight.” Firmly but kindly, Timmy replied. “I can’t them hurt anyone else, I just can’t!”

  “Don’t go after them half-cocked, Timmy.”

  Timmy smiled, tears forming in his eyes. “Don’t worry; this will be my last, greatest performance.”

  The ghostly man frowned. “Al is looking for you in the service halls.”

With that, he vanished. Timmy sighed then soundlessly ran down the narrow hallway towards the nearest stairwell.

**********

  “I don’t like it.” said Alex, pacing inside the boys’ dressing room. “It’s almost time for first curtain and Jeff has not come back yet.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine.” said Jason. “My brother is pretty tough.”

  “No one is tougher than a bullet.” said Paul.

  Alex hushed everyone silent as a soft knock came to the door and Brandy peered inside.  “It’s time.” she said. “Are you ready?”

  The boys nodded, solemn and serious. “We’re ready, Mrs. Stravis.” Calmly, Alex replied. “Only we can’t find Jeff.”


“What do you mean you can’t find Jeff?” Worried, Brandy asked.

“We heard Timmy moving through the vents and Jeff went to find him.” Wincing, Paul replied.

Brandy sighed, worry clear on her face. “It’s too late to cancel the show now; it’s a sold out crowd.” Under her breath, she muttered. She then managed a weak smile and said, “I’m sure he’s fine; I’ll have the Blure Brothers look for him.”

“If Timmy is here, Stone and his cronies are sure to follow.” Shuddering slightly, Alex pointed out. “Is it safe to go on?”

“I was assured by both the security team and the police that Stone and his men will not get in the theater.” With a forced confidence, Brandy replied. “I would not let you on if it was not safe.”

Alex nodded, though he seemed less than convinced and turned to the other boys. “Let’s do this.”

  The boys marched out of the dressing room, into the hall, and met up with the girls and exchanged a knowledgeable nod. They then walked together, keeping Angel and Stephanie in the middle as they slowly made their way down towards the stage.

  “Timmy is back, he escaped from Stone’s men.” Whispering carefully, Alex informed. “Only that means they are here or on their way.”

  Angel shivered. “I know.”

  “We can’t find Jeff; he went to try to find Timmy.”

  Angel turned to him, startled. “I hope he’s okay...”

  Alex shook his head. “We don’t know so keep your eyes peeled and be ready for anything.”

Angel sighed. “I just hope the police can stop them before they can get in and try anything.”

  The children reached the stage and the boys took their places while the girls watched and waited from stage right. The curtains rose and the audience greeted the boys with applause. Unknown to them, Stone emerged from a door, onto the highest catwalk.  He walked out onto it then paused about half way to step over a small open space onto a heavy platform that was hanging from a motorized winch, directly over the center of the thrust stage.

  There, he secured a small wad of plastic explosives onto the manual wench control and mounted a small receiver next to it. He then retrieved a small remote from his jacket pocket and tested it.  Satisfied, he gazed down at Angel who was then waiting for her turn to perform on the stage.

  “Enjoy your Broadway debut, Angel; it will be your last.”

**********

  Meanwhile, inside another part of the theater, Al walked slowly down a long hall, searching every room, but froze as all of the lights suddenly went out.  He retrieved his gun from its holster under his jacket and cautiously moved onward, searching the darkness for which he suspected was Timmy.

  “Turning the lights off won’t save you, boy.” Straining his eyes against the dark, he said. “I will get you eventually.”

  “Not if I get you first.” came Timmy’s cold voice from the other side of the hall.

  Al turned quickly, with his gun ready, only to see the outline of a cape vanishing around the far corner.  He ran down the hall and rounded the corner, but stopped as he found the next hall to be dark as well. “You’re clever, kid.  But you can’t hide in the shadows forever.”

  “I don’t have to.” From the far side of the hall, Timmy countered.

  Al ran down the hall to the other end and let out a surprised yell as he fell down a flight of stairs.  Cursing, he continued down the stairs to the next floor, to find the hall pitch dark.  He looked up and jumped. The lights in the hall above him had all come back on.  Lightning flashed outside a window on one side of the hall and Al turned in time to catch a glimpse of a door on the other side of the dark hall, slowly closing.

  Smiling, he ran down the hall, more cautiously, pulled the door open and ran through, saying, “There’s nowhere left to...”

  His voice died in his mouth as he suddenly found himself standing outside the side entrance of the theater just as a long line of squad cars were pulling into the parking lot with their sirens blaring.  Al cursed and tried to rush back inside, but the door had been locked tight from the inside.  He threw his fist against the door, enraged.

  “I am going to kill that kid!”

  Al quickly leveled his gun at the door to shoot out the lock, but a strong hand suddenly gripped his shoulder and spun him around. Before Al could react, a powerful fist made contact with his jaw. The blow sent him literally flying off his feet and over the railing of the steps. Al’s gun fell free from his hand as he landed hard onto the pavement and he looked up to find a towering man in a policeman’s uniform.

“Nobody hurts my Timmy!” Angrily, the man growled. “On your feet; you are under arrest!”

“Good work, Fable.” Patting the man on the back, another policeman said. “Your former boxing career really comes in handy.”

“Thank Momma Beauty.” Motioning to the cab driver, Fable said. “She’s the one who tipped me off on Stone’s men being in the building.”

From the delivery door window, Timmy watched as the police took Al away in handcuffs and smiled. “I’m not fighting this alone.” Tears falling, he said. “I’m not alone…” He then pulled his rope belt up like the ‘tough guys’ of the old movies. “That’s two; now for the rest.”

**********

At Stage right, Don Blure walked up to Brandy with a solemn look on his face which immediately gave Brandy concern. “What’s wrong?” Whispering, she asked. “Did you find Jeff?”

Don placed a gentle hand onto Brandy’s shoulder. “Your son is in the hospital, ma’am. Max Karl attempted to murder him; he is now in police custody and more police officers are on the way.”

Brandy raised a trembling hand to her mouth. “This is entirely my fault!” Crying, she whispered. “I should have cancelled the musical!”

“Jeff will be okay.” Quickly, Don assured her. “My brothers and I will tear this theater apart to find the others until the police arrive.”

Brandy began to fumble with her hands, uncertainty weighing heavily upon her brow. “Don, what should I do?”

“All of the boys on that stage were basically street orphans before we adopted them.” Reassuringly, Don replied. “If Stone or his ‘merry’ men try anything, they will know what to do.”

**********

  Near the lobby of the theater, Wayne saw the lights of the squad cars and decided it best to make a quick retreat from the theater.  He had planned to run down a service hall to the lobby where he would simply blend in with the crowd. Only, as he entered the hall, he found his path blocked by an angry Jamaican cab driver, Mamma Beauty. She stood in the center of the hall with her hands resting crossly against her hips.       

  “Just where do you think you’re going?  You owe me a huge fare for shooting up my cab.”

  Wayne discretely showed Beauty his pistol, which was in its holster under his jacket. “Maybe I will pay you by letting you live another day.”

  If looks could kill, Beauty’s expression would have done it with one blow but she stepped aside, giving him room to pass and Wayne gave her a cruel smile.

  “That’s better. You just stay exactly where you are and we will consider ourselves even.”

  He began to walk passed her but a vent in the ceiling blew open and Timmy leaped out from it, feet first, and landed heavily on Wayne’s shoulders.  The force of his move sent Wayne crashing to the floor, dazing him long enough for Timmy to pull Wayne’s gun from its holster and jump back, training the gun at the man’s head.

  “How is Stone planning to kill Angel?” he demanded, quietly.

  Wayne laughed. “You’re really fast, kid; I’ll give you that. I might even be scared if you knew how to use that weapon.”

  His smile faded instantly as Timmy easily pushed the hammer down with his muscular thumb and flipped the safety switch to the off position. Timmy had seen Max do it so many times in his nightmares it was almost second nature to him. With his finger resting steady against the trigger, he repeated his question, “How is Stone planning to kill Angel?”

  “Easy now, Timmy.” said Beauty. “He’s not worth killing over.”

  “Tell me now!” Ignoring Beauty, Timmy raged.

  “He’s rigged explosives onto the wench break of an old steel platform above the center of the thrust stage so it would fall directly onto Angel when he sets it off.” Coldly, Wayne explained.  “Stone has it wired to a remote; he can make it drop from anywhere and the performance is almost over, you’ll never stop it in time.”
 
“You… You monster!”

Wayne laughed again but he suddenly became dead silent as he saw the bullet chamber slowly begin to rotate.
 
  For what seemed to be a lifetime, Wayne lay perfectly still; sweat beading on his forehead as Timmy growled in anger, his finger shaking upon the trigger. Finally, he pulled the gun back and angrily tossed it aside as if it were diseased.

  “Beauty is right.” he growled. “You’re not worth it.”

  Timmy then ran passed him down the hall into a small storeroom, leaving the door open in his haste. Still shaking, Wayne watched him leave. Seeing his opportunity, he jumped to his feet with all intentions to make good his escape but he froze upon seeing Beauty with the gun in hand. “Don’t even think about it!”

  On the stage, the children began the second act of the musical, keeping their eyes out for any signs of danger. They were unaware that Stone was watching them from one of the two high balcony seats. He waited for the right moment to strike, nervously fingered the small button on his remote. He was yet unaware that the theater was now being invaded by the police who were now spreading out in search for him.  However, upon seeing a number of them entering the auditorium, Stone knew that Cruel had failed to dispose of Timmy. He turned to the stage and saw his opportunity to strike.

  “Goodbye, Angel.”

  Stone pressed the button on his remote.  The small explosive blew, destroying the wench control, causing the steel platform to free fall.  The emergency break screamed and smoked before the cables snapped under the pressure, sending the long steel platform crashing down seven floors to the stage.

  It was at that very moment Timmy flew out from a vent in the high vaulted ceiling and took a fast hold of one of the steel support cables as he fell. He landed squarely onto the ancient wooden catwalk that had given away his presence only two weeks before. He braced himself as the support cable became taunt; but screamed out in agony as the sheer weight of the platform threatened to tear his arms clean from his shoulders. In what seemed like slow motion, Timmy could feel his knees giving way and could see his hands beginning to bleed as the steel cable cut into his palms as it slowly slipped through his grasp.

  “I’m sorry, Angel.” Miserably, he whimpered, “I’m so sorry.”

  Then, two large, ghostly hands appeared from the shadows behind him and took a strong hold onto the cable.  The impossible weight of the platform suddenly, miraculously, became more manageable.  Timmy strengthened his grip and stopped the heavy platform from reaching the stage. He held onto it with all of his strength but he was not certain how long the frail wooden platform would hold the combined weight.  He was five stories above the stage.

  Inside the audience, Officer Dan Fable, having heard Stone’s plans from Momma Beauty, led his team towards the stage with only one thought; get everyone out of harm’s way.  “Clear the stage!” Running up the stage steps, he shouted. “Clear the...!”

  His words instantly froze in his throat as he heard a muffled explosion from above and watched in utter terror as a large steel catwalk came crashing down towards the stage. The children and adults all scattered, screaming but Angel found herself paralyzed in fear. She watched the platform fall towards her, tears falling.  Alex raced forward to push Angel clear but froze as a loud, spine chilling scream echoed throughout the auditorium.  The platform stopped suddenly and slowly steadied mere inches from Angel’s head where she stood, frozen in terror.  Inside the audience, the people were confused by the sudden presence of the police and held their breath as they heard the explosions. Most half rose, ready to flee the building. Above them, Stone’s jaw dropped in utter disbelief as he watched the platform fall just short of its mark. He then stormed out the balcony, knowing exactly who had saved Angel from death.

Watching from stage right, Stravis urgently turned to Jason and whispered, “Close the curtains.”

Jason hit the curtain switch but, in his haste to aid Angel, struck the wrong one. The high curtains opened, revealing Timmy to the audience who slowly sat back down, awed by the sight of him struggling to hold onto the cable.  Inside the second row, Samuel and Maria took each other’s hand, mentally thanking him for saving their daughter’s life and prayed for his safety.

  Behind them, Tom slowly raised his camera, eager to take a picture but Sara took a hold of the camera and pushed it down. “No; the flash might cause him to drop it.”

  Alex carefully led Angel out from under the platform as a number of adults ran up to them. “Are you okay?” asked Alex.

  “I think so.” Shaken, Angel replied. She looked up and saw the dark figure of Timmy holding on to the support cable high above them. “He’s saved us again.”

  Stravis frowned at the fact the wrong curtain switch had been hit but there was no time to deal with it. He ran out onto the stage with Jason following. “Get away from there; that last cable could snap any second!”

“Timmy’s got a hold of it up there, dad.” Pointing, Jeff announced. “But he’s not going to be able to hold that much weight for long.  We got to help him.”

  Scott suggested, “Why don’t we just get clear and let him drop the blasted thing?”

  “Timmy won’t do that.” Shaking his head, Jason said. “It’ll crash right through the stage or worse, bounce into the orchestra pit.” He turned to his father. “Dad, we need help on this!”

  Stravis quickly sized up the situation then pulled a radio from his belt and hit the transmit button. “Jon, Ron, Don, I need you on the stage, now!”

  Jon’s voice replied immediately, “We’re there; give us one minute.”

  “You have thirty seconds!”  He then looked up and called out to Timmy. “You just hold on tight, Timmy, help is on the way!”

  Timmy swallowed hard as sweat began to bead upon his forehead.  All of his muscles were on fire and the cable was becoming slippery with the blood leaking from his palms.  He knew that he would not be able to hold the platform for long.  “Please hurry!”

  A loud squeak reached his ear and he turned his head, expecting to find the floor giving way, but trembled as he instead found Stone walking awkwardly towards him on the wooden catwalk.

  “It was a near air tight operation.” In a threatening tone, he hissed. “No one ever suspected me, my men, the props, the factory, or this little theater.  Your parents were the only people to figure it out but they were easily taken care of.”  He reached under his suit jacket, retrieving his gun and held it level with Timmy’s heart; it had a silencer. “There was just one flaw… you survived.”

  Below them, Angel looked up, catching a small reflection out of the corner of her eye and let out a loud gasp as she spotted Stone on the wooden catwalk, holding a gun on Timmy.

  “What’s wrong, Angel?” Seeing her panic, Race asked.

  Too panicked to speak, Angel pointed up at the wooden catwalk; the kids followed her gaze and growled.

  “It’s that terrible Mr. Stone!” wailed Stephanie.

  “What?” Looking up, Stravis saw Stone and growled as well.

  “He’s after Timmy!” Scott fumed.

  “We’ve got to stop him!” added Race.

  “He’s dog meat!” Running off, Paul yelled.

  The boys nodded in agreement and rushed off the stage, with a small number of policemen following. “Stay out of this, kids!” Firmly, Fable ordered. “Let the police handle this!”

  Just as the boys rushed off to stage left, the Blure brothers arrived from stage right.  They ran up to Stravis but froze dead in their tracks as they saw the platform hanging a mere five feet above the stage by a single cable.  They all looked up and stared in awe seeing Timmy holding it up alone own from the fragile wooden catwalk with his bare hands.

  “Incredible!” said Ron. “He must be the specter we heard the boys talking about last night.”

  “What’s the story, boss?” asked Don.

  “There’s no time to explain.” Stravis snapped. “We’ve got to ease this platform to the stage floor before the boy’s strength gives out.” He pointed up. “Or worse, Stone decides to kill him.”

  Jon nodded. “Let’s do it then!”

  Cheers rose from the audience as the four men each quickly took a position under one corner of the steel platform. Stravis looked up at Timmy and gave him a wave, hoping he would get his message.  Inside the audience, Maria, watching the events with Samuel, gave her husband’s hand a worried squeeze. “Hang in there, kid.”

  On the catwalk, Timmy, hearing the cheers from the audience, discretely looked down onto the stage.  He spotted Stravis waving at him as he and three others each stood firmly under one of the four corners of the heavy steel platform he was holding.  He knew what he had to do.

  “I must admit, I grudgingly admire your spirit.” said Stone. “You just won’t give up.”

  Timmy let go of the cable, then grabbed it again a half second later, knowing it was the only way he could slowly lower the steel platform to the stage.  The floorboards cracked loudly beneath him, giving to the weight of the platform, but the sound was drowned out by his agonizing cry, which again echoed through the auditorium.  The sudden jerk of the cable forced something to pop in one of his shoulders, but, with the help of the ghostly hands, he still managed to keep it steady as Stravis and the Blure brothers below him guided the platform to the stage floor.

  “Is it getting a little heavy for you?” With a chuckle, Stone asked. “I’m not surprised. That platform weighs at least one hundred and fifty pounds; I’m impressed you have managed to hold onto it this long.”

  “This old catwalk can’t hold this much weight for long.” Desperately trying to buy some time, Timmy said. “I’d get off before it breaks.”

  He let go of the cable a second time, again grabbing it a half second later but was relieved to hear a low hollow boom as it touched down onto the stage.  He was even more relieved to feel a small amount of slack on the cable, which meant he no longer had to bear its incredible weight. He still let out a loud yell, hoping it would motivate Stone to gloat long enough for him to quickly plan his escape.

  “We got it!” called Jon, on the stage.

  “And I have you, boy.” Coldly, Stone said. “You are my ticket out of here and I doubt you have any strength left to give any kind of a fight.”

  Timmy turned to Stone, ready to fight with anything he had left but a loud crack reached his ears. His face turned pale as the old wooden boards snapped loudly and gave way under his feet. Timmy fell through the floor and tumbled down towards the stage.

  Angel screamed out Timmy’s name as he desperately tried to catch onto a rope, a backdrop, anything that might slow or break his fall.  Alas, his strength was completely gone and there was nothing Angel or anyone else could do but watch in horror as he crashed hard onto the steel platform on his shoulder, causing it to pop again, before bouncing off and landing in a heap onto the stage floor in front of the terrified audience.

  Stone watched coldly from the high, damaged, catwalk as Angel rushed to Timmy’s body. He had lost his hostage to a stroke of bad luck. “At least he’s finally dead.” Darkly, he muttered. “I need to get out of here.”

  “Hold it right there!” came a voice inside Stone’s head.

  Stone looked up and was stunned to find himself standing in the center of an empty stage with Angel crying over Timmy’s broken body at his feet.  A tough looking boy in 1950’s style clothing was watching him from stage right, just outside of the shadows.

  “Yeah, I’m talking to you!” Angrily, the boy shouted. “If ‘ya think you’re going to kill those kids, ‘ya better try thinkin’ again!”

  A large group of kids, wearing similar attire, casually stepped out of the shadows at stage right and left, surrounding Stone on the dimly lit stage who looked around startled and confused.

  “We take care of our own!” declared the boy.

  Sweat began to bead upon Stone’s forehead as he turned from one side of the vast audience to the other, seeing character after character from past Broadway shows appear upon the stage within his mind. In the same instant, the doors on either side of the wooden catwalk opened, revealing the young actors and a small band of policemen including Dan Fable.

  “Watch and learn, kids.” Quietly, Alex ordered.

  “Hit him one for us.” whispered Scott.

  Dan signaled the boys and police on the other side to wait then walked out onto the old catwalk, trying not to make a sound. He slowly inched closer to Stone while the haunting voices and images continued to invade the man’s mind.

  “Broadway holds a lot of spirit, Stone.” Flipping a coin again and again in his hand, a smooth talking man said at stage left. “This spirit has had enough of your evil doings.”

  An elderly woman in a nun’s ropes stepped forward from the audience. “It is time to answer for your sins, my son; give up to the authorities while there is still time to save yourself.”

  “You are not real!” Shaking, Stone whispered. “I’m getting out of here and nothing will stop me; not even the Broadway specter!”

  Desperate to pull out of his delusion, he reached for his gun and yanked it from its holster.

  “Not so fast!” Swinging a fist, Dan shouted.

  The words reached Stone just as the strong blow to the jaw threw him off balance. The haunting images of the stage and Broadway characters vanished and he found himself back on the old wooden catwalk he had been standing on. Startled and confused Stone was forced to drop his gun over the railing to prevent a fall through the same jagged hole Timmy had plummeted from.  He frantically looked about to gather his surroundings and spotted Dan standing on the catwalk with his fists clenched. “You!”

“That’s right.” Serious, Dan spat. “I’m the boxer you tried to blackmail almost two years ago!”

With fire in his eyes, Stone slowly walked towards Dan but stopped as the third board he stepped on loudly cracked in half under his weight.

  “I wouldn’t move too quickly, Stone.” Standing his ground, Dan warned. “This catwalk is broke in the middle, it could go at any time.” He smiled. “I’m willing to go ten rounds here, are you?”

  Stone looked down at the stage, five stories below, before turning back to Dan to find him holding up a pair of handcuffs. He turned to go the other way but found that door blocked by boys and police as well.

  “You’ve just been busted.” said Alex.

  The other boys then spoke as they declared angrily in unison, “By the Blure brothers!”

  Ron, listening from the stage with his two brothers, sniffed. “That’s our boys!” he said.

  Jon nudged him in the ribs and his smile vanished as he found Angel, crying over Timmy’s motionless body.  Maria rose to go to her aid, with Samuel following, even though they knew there was nothing they could do.

  “Call an ambulance.” ordered Stravis.

  “The paramedics are on the way, dad.” Holding up the satellite phone, Jason said. He swallowed hard.  “I just hope they don’t come too late.”

  There was not a dry eye in the theater as everyone helplessly watched the tragic scene playing upon the center stage.

  “Wake up, Timmy!” Crying, Angel wailed. “Please don’t die on me!”

  Inside Timmy’s mind, he saw his mother and father standing alone out in the alley from the crawlspace window.  They seemed very sad as he happily hurried down the rickety fire escape steps to join them in the alley.

  “You came back for me!  I knew you would!”

  Timmy’s father shook his head while his mother began to cry. “You can’t come with us now, son.” Calmly but sadly, he said. “Not yet; you still have a long life to live.”

  Timmy stopped and looked at them, his lips trembling. “You mean you two are really…”

  Timmy’s father slowly nodded, tears forming in his eyes. “We will be here, waiting for you after you grow up and grow old but you can’t come with us now.”

  Tears flowed like rivers as Timmy gripped his father’s jacket. “But I want to be with you! Please, you’re the only family I have!”

  From one of the posters, a smooth talking man stated, “If you follow now, you will regret it.”

  “We’re not your only family.” Taking Timmy’s hand, his mother soothed.


  “I- I don’t understand.”

  “You have a last name.” From the ‘Orphans on Broadway’ poster, a small girl’s voice declared.

  As Timmy’s parents slowly, very slowly vanished from his sight, Timmy fell to his knees, crying. “Don’t leave me! Please, don’t leave!”

  “We never left you, Timmy.” Her voice fading, his mother called.

The alley vanished before Timmy’s eyes, replacing it with the lights above the stage as his father’s voice echoed in his mind. “We are so proud of you, son…”