Timmy

CHAPTER ONE: POSTERS

CHAPTER ONE: POSTERS

High above the center stage of Broadway’s Open Door Theater, Timmy raced across a gridiron catwalk. For four years he had been living inside the twelve story building, easily eluding all who had come looking for him. Only this day, he was caught off guard. The thin, blurry man in an usher uniform who was in pursuit had just reached the catwalk when Timmy stopped halfway. There was a second, more muscular, man coming at him from the other side.

“Give it up, kid.” Closing in, the first man said. “There’s no place left for you to run.”

Desperate, Timmy leaped over the rail. He just barely caught the railing of the second catwalk several feet below. His daring move caught the men by surprise but they were quick to recover. They ran back off the catwalk to get to the next level.

Exhausted and afraid, Timmy pulled himself up onto the lower catwalk and ran for the nearest door. Seeing it open outward, he gasped; grabbing the rail so to turn on his heel. A third man emerged from the open door and narrowly missed grabbing him by the shirt. The second man emerged on the other side with the first man following close behind. Spotting them, panic flashed in Timmy’s eyes and he again paused to search for another route of escape.

A wisp of mist blew across the catwalk and a ghostly figure appeared in front of Timmy. He was a small boy in brown knickers, muddy shirt, and old worn boots. Timmy seemed to be the only one who could see him.

*Jump over the side.* Pointing down, the boy said.

Timmy glanced down at the stage far below then shook his head as he kept an eye on the advancing men. “I- I can’t jump!” Whispering, he protested. “It’s too far down.” He gulped. “I- I’m scared.”

*Just trust me; you’ll be fine.* Firmly but kindly, the boy said. *It’s either jump or fight.*

The ghostly figure was then gone as a second wisp of mist blew across the catwalk, leaving Timmy on his own.

Don’t leave me now!

Timmy looked about for a safer means of escape but stopped as the second man spoke calmly to him. “Take it easy, son. We’re not going hurt you.”

Looking both ways, Timmy measured the distance in his steps between the three men and himself. The two on one side were only twenty of his steps away, barring his path. The one on the other side was keeping the same distance. They were all too close for his liking.

“Allow me to introduce myself and my associates.” Keeping his distance, the man said. “My name is Wayne; the man standing behind you is Max and the one behind me is Al. We are here to take you somewhere you will be safe and cared for.”

The man took a small, cautious step forward. Timmy’s eyes narrowed and he curled the fingers in his right hand into a fist tight enough to crack all of the knuckles. It was a trick a man named Dan Fable had taught him to intimidate an opponent. Max took it as a warning and quickly took the step back.

“I’m safe here.” Timmy’s voice was dark and firm.

He turned from one side to the other like a trapped animal. Both his back and knees were slightly bent; he was expecting one of all of the men to lunge at him any moment. He knew how to fight thanks to some free boxing lessons he had gained from Dan Fable. He was the owner of a boxing school; Timmy had saved his young daughter from some would be kidnappers.

“You can’t take your eyes off of the other guy for a second.” Dan had told him this during one lesson. “That’s all he needs to catch you off guard.”

“This old theater is not a place for anyone your age to live.” Remaining calm, Wayne argued. “You should be living in a-”

Max mouthed, “Don’t say it!” but it was too late.

“-in an orphanage.” finished Wayne.

The panic in Timmy’s eyes turned to anger. “I can’t go there! I promised mom and dad I’d wait for them here!”

Wayne’s voice turned cold. “You don’t have a choice.”

Timmy’s eyes narrowed. “Yes; I do.”

*Jump over the side!*

Timmy jumped over the railing, dropping down feet first. Max made a jump for his hand only he was not fast enough. Timmy hit a high hung backdrop and slid down to the end where he tripped off. With a yelp of fear, he grabbed a curtain rope. His speed swung him over a second backdrop just as the rope broke under his weight. Timmy slid down it to the end where he landed hard but safely onto the stage. Getting up quickly, he looked around before gazing up at the men he had escaped from. Only he did not run; he stood there, astonished by the feat he had just accomplished. “Wow; how did I do that!?!”

The ghostly figure of a young woman in a nun’s habit stepped out of the shadows of the curtains. *Anything is possible if you only have a little faith, child.* Smiling, she said.

Timmy smiled and took a step towards her but froze as he felt a strong hand touch his shoulder. He turned to see the ghostly figure of a tall, well-dressed man standing behind him. *Don’t run yet. Wait until they make their move first.*

Taking the man’s advice, Timmy stood his ground. He watched, anxiously waiting for the men to come after him.

On the catwalk, Al shook his head, angered and awed. To him, Timmy’s desperate escape seemed more like a flawless acrobatic act, one of many the boy had become famous for in and around the Broadway district. “How does he do that?”

Max angrily threw a fist onto the catwalk floor then jumped to his feet, confronted Wayne. “We had him; why did you spook him?”

Wayne turned to Max, his face hardening. “I was trying to get the boy to hold still long enough for you to grab him.” he countered. “If you would have acted instead of just standing there like an idiot...!”

Before a full argument could start, Al interrupted. “Save it for later, guys; the boy is up to something!”

Max and Wayne stopped arguing for the moment and looked over the railing at Timmy, standing alone on the stage.

“He’s not running away.” Confused, Wayne said. “He’s just standing there, watching us.”

Max watched Timmy for a moment, curious. Upon realizing what he was doing, he shook his head, astonished. “I don’t believe it; he’s waiting for us to go after him.”

Catching on, Al gave a short laugh. “That little brat; do you think he has some kind of plan in mind?”

Max nodded. “I’m sure he’s making it up as he goes. He knows every inch of this theater. Also, he’s been chased around in here before. He has a good idea how long it would take us to reach the stage.”

Wayne gave a short laugh of his own. “You’re both crazy. The kid is good, I’ll give him that, but he can’t be that good!”

Al knotted his jaws in decision. “It doesn’t matter how good he is; it’ll be our hides if we don’t catch him before the rehearsals start!”

The three ran back the way they came. The ghostly figures vanished in a swirl of mist while Timmy ran across the stage, counting as he went. “One, (pant) Two, (pant) Three, (pant) Four...”

He had an idea how long it would take the men to reach him. He began to frantically search the stage for the new posters he heard about earlier.  Suddenly, a young, brown-haired boy charged out onto the stage from behind the curtains and roughly tackled him to the floor.

“‘Into the prompter’s box.” he whispered quickly, “Make it look good.”

Timmy nodded and the two rolled into the prompter’s box in a mock fight.  There they both got up and ran through a door, down a number of stairs, into a large room below the stage. Waiting for them there was another young boy, a near double of the first, who handed Timmy a rolled up piece of paper.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

Timmy unrolled the paper, revealing the ‘Orphans on Broadway’ production poster. “Yes it is.” Rolling up the poster, he said. “Thanks, Jeff.” He turned to the first boy. “Thanks, Jason. You guys are the best.”

Jeff was two inches taller than Timmy. His older brother, Jason was three inches taller than him. Both had short light brown hair, green eyes, and a rugged face. They were orphans and had been Timmy’s friend since the first day he was left alone inside the theater.

********************

It was the morning after that endless night. Timmy was still crying when heard someone coming up the fire escape stairs. He feared that person was coming after him and pushed himself into a dark corner. His left shoulder was bleeding badly. He took up the only weapon he could find in his right hand. It was an old metal pipe with some weight to it. Jeff and Jason came through the window and spotted him. It took some time but Jeff and Jason eventually managed to talk Timmy out of that corner. His injury was bad but they managed to patch him up with what they could find. It was their quick work that had saved Timmy’s life.

From then on, the three shared a powerful bond. One that had moved Timmy to do whatever he could to help anyone in need. Only his fear kept him from allowing anyone to catch him. It was through these efforts he earned his title, the Broadway Specter. Jeff and Jason were adopted by John Stravis and his wife during the great adoption run last year.

********************

Timmy’s mind returned to the present as Jason spoke. “That was quite a stunt you pulled, getting away from those goons. I watched it all from back stage; how did you do that?”

Timmy wondered that himself and merely shrugged. “I’m not sure; I just did, I guess.”

Hurried steps and muffled voices from above moved the three to silence. The ushers had reached the stage. “We can talk more later.” Jeff’s voice was low but firm. “You’d better make yourself scarce, Timmy.”

Timmy nodded and turned to leave but paused; the boy from the catwalk was standing near a large ventilation shaft on the opposite side of the room. He casually leaned his back against the wall with a smug smile on his face. “He said to make it look good.”

As the ghostly figure of the boy faded from sight, Timmy knotted his jaws in decision. “I’m sorry.” he said.

Jason looked at him, confused. “Huh? Sorry about what?”

Timmy quickly turned and landed a heavy blow, deep into Jason’s stomach. He fell to his knees, coughing. Before Jeff could react, Timmy spun around, delivering a strong blow to his jaw. Jeff fell off balance and crashed to the floor. Timmy ran passed them and scurried into the ventilation system. He quickly disappeared into the darkness of the vents, the faint sounds of his movements rapidly fading into silence.

Seconds later, the three men emerged from a narrow stair well a few feet from the prompter’s box door. They quickly looked around before spotting Jeff and Jason, slowly getting back onto their feet.

“Where is the boy!?!” Wayne’s demand was cold and harsh.

“You just missed him.” Clutching his stomach, Jason sputtered. “We tried to catch him but he got passed us.”

Massaging his sore jaw, Jeff pointed to the ventilation shaft. “He got away by crawling in there.”

Max ran to the ventilation shaft and gazed inside at the dark maze of metal; there was no sign of Timmy. He strained his ears to listen only to be greeted by Timmy’s crazed, taunting laughter. The laugh echoed through every vent in every room. This made it seem to be coming from everywhere, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. The stories and rumors about the Broadway Specter were becoming more believable.

“That boy is long gone.” Turning to the others, Max said. “There’s no telling where or when he is going to come out of those vents. We don’t have a chance of catching him now.”

Wayne sighed, impatience in his frown. “Try telling that to the boss.” He turned to Jeff and Jason. “We appreciate your efforts to help us, but we can handle it.”

After the men had vanished up the narrow stairwell, Jeff turned to his brother, with annoyance on his face. “Let me guess, you told him to make it look good.”

....................

Later on, in a candle lit corner of the crawlspace attic, Timmy taped the ‘Orphans on Broadway’ production poster onto the wall with care. He had an impressive collection of posters and newspaper clippings. The small corner of the theater had been Timmy’s home; it was one of the only places he truly felt safe.

He turned to the characters pictured in the posters, smiling. “Can you believe this? People are coming here to my theater to play out Anna’s effort to give a lot of orphans hope for a happy ending!” His smile fell; ending in a sigh. “If I’m lucky, I will get my happy ending too.”

“Happy endings come to those who keep their dreams alive.”

The response came from a sharply dressed man in one of the many Broadway production posters. His voice was so smooth and calming, like what he had remembered of his father. His father...

Timmy reached into the back pocket of his ragged costume pants, producing a small, folded photograph. He carefully opened it, staring at the image. It was an old black and white picture of a young man and woman standing side by side inside a small courtyard outside of a church. With a heavy heart, he carefully returned it to his back pocket.

“I hope it happens soon.” He turned to the ‘Orphans on Broadway’ poster. “But I won’t go to any orphanage, I won’t! I heard that they’re all as bad, no worse, than the one you guys were in!” He shivered, holding back a tear. “I wish I knew where they were now.”

*Maybe they are across the world or across the street.*

Timmy giggled at the response, coming from a young girl in the ‘Orphans on Broadway’ poster. “Oh, you’re a lot of help.”

As he continued to talk to the posters, Jason entered the crawlspace attic through a door in the floor. Holding a large bundle of papers in one hand, he strained his eyes against the darkness. Soon, he found the heavy backdrop, hanging from the ceiling. It was put there by him and Jeff to conceal Timmy’s hiding place in the corner. Fortunately, their parents had ordered the renovation crew to leave the west wing untouched. He pushed a piece of the backdrop aside and slipped past. On the other side was another backdrop. It was marked ‘under construction’; hung there just as an extra precaution. He pushed past that and stepped into the dim light of the candles of Timmy’s home.

Jason carried a look of deep concern on his face. He had found more of Timmy’s stick figure drawings. He had been drawing very disturbing images everywhere on the lower half of the walls in the upper west wing. All of them seemed to depict some tragic event, locked deep inside Timmy’s mind. Only he would never talk about it. As he scanned the room, he could not help shudder. Like the drawings, Timmy’s living space still gave him a certain sense of dread.

The room was dimly lit with a number of candles, resting in tin cups, hanging from small hooks in the wall, giving the room an eerie glow. Broadway production posters and old newspaper clippings were taped to the wall everywhere between them; even on the dark back drop, the third wall. The dim, flickering light of the candles made the posters appear to be almost alive. In the center of the far wall was a small prop door, painted to look like a brick wall. He and Jeff had wedged it into the window frame that was there to give Timmy some protection from the elements and to hide his small home from outside view. In the corer was a small table with various items on and under it. Who knew what oddities Timmy collected?

On the floor, on the far left side stood a small music stand with an old photo of a full orchestra taped to the wall in front of it. Lying next to the music stand was a number of scripts, stage directions, and sheet music from musicals Timmy had found and collected. In front of the door was a large pile of discarded costumes, fashioned into a very crude but comfortable bed. Taking it all in, Jason sighed; the living space looked more like a tomb.

This place gives me the creeps.

Trying to ignore the eerie scene, he found Timmy standing in front of the small table, talking to his collection of production posters. Seeing him, Jason shook his head. He knew that the Broadway characters were Timmy’s imaginary friends; someone to talk to when he was alone. He only wished his friend would grow out of it.

“Are you still talking to those silly posters?” He let out a low moan. “Grow up a little, will you.”

*Ah go drink a Mickey Finn!* The young girl’s voice from the poster was tough but speaking in a teasing, playful manner.

Timmy giggled, knowing Jason could not hear her. “They’re the only friends I have here, besides you, Jeff, and the boys from the orphanage. They keep me company; they keep me safe.”

“They keep you safe?” Jason again shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong but how can posters keep you safe?”

Timmy, not knowing how to explain it, merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “They just do.”

Jason thought it best to change the subject and showed Timmy the papers he had with him. “I brought you a copy of the script, musical score, and stage directions to ‘Orphans on Broadway’ for your collection. I’ll give you something new to read.”

Timmy smiled. There was an excitement in his eyes that made Jason smile with him. “Thanks! I’m glad you and Jeff taught me how to read; I know why everyone is after me and why some call me the Broadway Specter.”

He giggled at the thought of having a nickname and motioned to the large number of newspaper clippings hanging on the walls of his room. Some of the headlines read;

Boxing champion’s daughter saved by mysterious specter.

Life of Pizza shop owner saved by the Broadway Specter.

Who is the Broadway Specter?

Police chief meets Broadway Specter; receives evidence of orphan abuse.

Abuse found at New York orphanage for boys, Broadway Specter credited.

Dozens of orphans adopted! All thanks to the Broadway Specter!

Is the Broadway Specter an orphan?

City offers sizable reward for safe capture of the Broadway Specter.

“You’ve become quite a celebrity.” Jason agreed. “That’s why Jeff and I are always telling you to be careful.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it was easy to teach you how to read; you must have a photographic memory.”

Timmy looked at him, confused. “I have a what?”

Jason shook his head. “Forget it; where do you want this?”

“Just put it on the table.”

Jason stepped forward and placed the bundle of papers onto the table but paused finding a number of boxes, jars, and cans of food neatly stacked on the floor beneath it. He turned to Timmy, a questioning look forming on his face. “Did you raid the kitchen at the orphanage again?”

Timmy opened his mouth to answer but Jason silenced him with a wave of his hand. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“I didn’t steal it!” Irritated, Timmy snapped. “I don’t do that anymore!” His face softened. “There’s a grocer at a store a few blocks away who gives me a lot of unopened stuff every week.”

“Why would he do that?”

Timmy shrugged. “He tells me that they are only a day or two past its date; whatever that means.”

Jason sighed, rolling his eyes. “It means that the food is expired; anything that’s expired is no good, the store can’t sell it.”

“It all seems fine to me.”

Jason shook his head. “You almost got caught this time; you have to be more careful.” He scolded. “I don’t want to see you getting shipped off to that orphanage for boys down town.” He shivered, thinking about it. “Jeff and I lived in that place for a while; I wouldn’t wish that prison on anyone, especially not you.”

Timmy let out a low sigh, remembering the chase on the catwalks, and paused to mentally thank Dan Fable. It was his lessons that had saved him from being captured and taken away.

********************

It was about two weeks after that tragic night. Two men had kicked in the rear delivery entrance door; dragging a small and frail little girl with them. She was tied, gagged and teary eyed, struggling against her bonds. From the darkness of the low catwalks, Timmy watched them drop the girl like so much garbage onto the stage floor. Curious, he moved in for a closer look. One of the men was talking on a cell phone, giving his demands for the girl’s safe release.

“You heard me correctly, Mr. Fable.” The man’s voice was cold and threatening. “We want our man to win the championship fight. Unless you want to see your precious daughter returned to you in a body bag, you will throw that fight!”

Being accustomed to moving about the theater with hardly a sound, Timmy closed in on the men. The second man, serving as a lookout was oblivious to his presence. Watching from the shadows of the stage, Timmy could see that the girl was no taller than him with shoulder length blonde hair and deep blue eyes. From the night clothes she was wearing, he guessed that she had been stolen from her bed. Timmy did not know what the man with the cell phone was talking about; nor did he care. The girl desperately needed help and, at the moment, he was the only one who could offer it.

I don’t like this, Frank.” Nervously looking around, the second man remarked. “I’ve heard that this theater is haunted.”

The first man grunted, clipping his cellphone onto his belt. “Get off it, Bob; in a few hours we will be swimming in money!” He snapped. He gave a calm smile. “Try to relax; we’re perfectly safe here.”

*That’s what he thinks.*

Timmy turned to the soft voice and found the ghostly image of a small boy in early thirties style clothing. He was standing right beside him.

“What can I do?” asked Timmy quietly. “There are two of them and they look really strong.”

The ghostly boy pointed to a thick rope tied to a heavy hook in wall a few steps away. *Untie that rope and hang on. I have an idea.* With that, he vanished in a wisp of mist.

Not having any better ideas, Timmy hurried to the rope. He loosened it from the hook, not knowing that it was becoming wrapped around his wrist. Soon the rope was free and Timmy was catapulted skyward while a large, weighted sand bag came crashing down from above. Fortunately, Timmy was able to free his wrist and hold onto the rope until he found an old, wooden catwalk five stories up. He let go as he passed the railing and surprisingly landed safely onto the catwalk floor. Shaken by the new experience, it was a moment before he could move.

Below, by sheer chance, the weighted sandbag crashed onto Frank’s head. He fell to the floor, unconscious with the sandbag landing right next to the helpless girl. She let out a muffled, but audible, scream of fright. The second man, startled as well, quickly drew a gun he had wedged between his belt and the small of his back.

Above, Timmy found the courage to peer down at the stage. He was a bit surprised to see one of the men lying upon the floor with the sandbag resting near his head. This only left one man to deal with. He turned to the girl to see if she was okay but paused, his eyes widening in fear. The second man was now holding a gun in his hand! Timmy backed away from the edge of the catwalk, shaking his head in panic. The sounds of gun shots and screams filled his mind. He wanted to run; he wanted to hide. That was exactly his plan until a gentle breeze caught his attention. He looked up to find the ghostly image of a tall, handsome man in a black suit standing before him.

*No one can shoot what is unseen.* The ghost’s voice was calm and even. *You know how the stage works; you are the girl’s only hope of a rescue.*

A breeze of mist then took the ghost away. Realizing the ghostly figure was right; Timmy pushed back his fear. He studied the stage for a moment and came up with a plan. He only hoped he could make it work.

“Who’s out there!?!” demanded Bob, looking about. “Show yourself!”

Timmy responded with a high pitched laugh that echoed everywhere inside the vast auditorium. Both the girl and the man shivered in fright as the echoes made the laugh sound ghostly, inhuman.

“Show yourself!” Bob demanded again, his voice quivering.

Unknown to all, a thick rope came loose from its hook. A life sized puppet of a man in pirate garbs came crashing down to the stage. A faint noise reached Bob’s ears and he looked up to see a shadowy figure falling towards him at high speed. Panicked, he fired off a number of rounds and jumped aside as it reached him. He was surprised to find it was nothing more than a puppet. The brief distraction was all Timmy needed to reach a small, darkened, control room. He had played with all of the controls; he knew what they did. He watched Bob nervously walking about on the stage, waiting for the right moment. Presently, Bob paused near the center of the stage. Timmy smiled; hitting a single switch.

“I’m not playing games here!” yelled Bob, clearly frightened. “Show yourself now or I’ll...”

Bob never finished his threat. He let out a yell of surprise as a trap door beneath him suddenly opened. He fell below the stage into a large crate that had been put there. It was on wheels; used as a garbage bin to clean the stage after a show. Bob’s hand struck the inside edge, forcing him to drop his weapon outside before landing in a heap. Stunned, but unharmed, Bob looked up and cursed at his new predicament. He tried to climb out but the walls were smooth and high. He then tried to break the wood with his fists and feet only the wood was too thick; he was trapped.

Returning to the low catwalk, Timmy looked down into the open trap door and found the man trapped inside the crate. He let out another long, high pitched laugh. Then, remembering the small girl, he quickly made his way down to the stage.

Still lying helplessly upon the stage floor, the small girl cringed and shivered in fear as the mad laughter again echoed though the auditorium. Timmy could see her body tighten; the sound of his echoing footsteps reached her hears. He knelt down upon reaching her and whispered, “I’m a friend.” then quickly worked on freeing her from her bonds. Once she was free, Timmy hurried back into the shadows of the stage before she could look around, hoping she would leave.

Upon removing her gag, the girl stood up, looking around for her rescuer. Presently, much to Timmy’s dismay, she found him. He was just far enough into the shadows where he could not be clearly seen.

“Thank you for saving me, sir.” Shaking, she said. “My name is Tina Fable.” She swallowed. “Are- Are you the one who was laughing?”

From the shadows, Timmy nodded. “I’m sorry if I scared you. Goodbye.”

Tina rewarded him with a small but grateful smile. Timmy did not know how to react to it and took a step back into the shadows. He decided it best to keep his distance.

Seeing him stepping back, Tina became fearful. “Wait! Please don’t go; I don’t know how to get home.”

Timmy looked at the girl for a moment, uncertain. He then walked over to the unconscious man on the stage. Even though it was dark, he could feel Tina’s watching his every move. He pulled the cell phone from the man’s belt and slid it across the floor to her feet. After a brief hesitation, Tina knelled down and picked it up. By the time she looked up again, Timmy had already retreated back into the shadows.

“I don’t know how that works.” Timmy’s voice was calm and even. “I saw that man using it to talk to your dad. You should be able to use it to talk to him too.”

Timmy then turned and began to walk away.

“Wait a minute.” Pleading, Tina called. “I don’t even know your name; what do I tell dad, the police?”

Timmy stopped but he did not turn around. “My name is Timmy.” he said. “Just please don’t tell anyone you saw me, okay?” After a pause, he added, “Tell them a ghost helped you.”

Without another word, he ran off into the shadows. From the safety of the darkness on the catwalks above, he watched Tina; not wanting to just leave her in case the man on the stage came to. She took a moment to search for him then finally used the cell phone to call her father.

Minutes later, the theater was invaded by men in dark blue uniforms Timmy would later know as the police. Among them, was a towering man wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans. Timmy knew he was Tina’s father the instant he took her into his arms. He carried Tina out with her lightly sobbing on his shoulder.

Timmy watched the police take the two men into custody through a window then turned his attention onto Tina and her father. Tina was wrapped in a blanket, standing next to her father while the police questioned her. Timmy prayed she would not speak of him; he was not sure if he could outrun so many people. Fortunately, Tina honored his request.

Still shaken from her experience, she stated, “I don’t know who saved me, officer. I never saw his face; he moved so fast and then he was gone as if he were a ghost.”

The police took Tina’s odd statement but they did not write it into their report. They merely reported her rescuer as an unknown Good Samaritan. Upon reaching their home, Tina told her father the entire story behind her ordeal; including Timmy’s wish to remain unknown. The two secretly returned to the open door theater several times, eventually coaxing Timmy out of hiding. Upon finally meeting him in person, Dan Fable offered to take him into his home; he refused, stating: “Mom and dad made me promise to wait for them here until they can come back for me.”

Dan offered Timmy some free self-defense lessons as a reward for saving his daughter. He accepted this and learned quickly. Dan had hoped that the lessons would entice Timmy to reconsider joining his family but he would not budge on his promise. The lessons proved very useful; they had helped him easily dodge anyone chasing him. That and Timmy had a family to turn to if he ever lost hope.

********************

Retuning his mind to the present, Timmy let out a sigh. “Those goons have been after me ever since they saw me on that old wooden catwalk.” His voice was bitter, regretful. “If the floor hadn’t creaked so loudly...” He swallowed hard, shaking off a certain chill. “I’m still safer here than anywhere else. They won’t catch me here; I can hide here from…”

His voice trailed off and Jason looked at him concerned. “What do you mean? Does this have anything to do with your nightmares?”

Timmy shook his head, wiping away a tear. “It- It’s nothing.” He managed a confident smile. “I’ll be okay, you’ll see. I just need to wait a little longer, that’s all.”

“Why do you live here alone anyway? You should think about coming to live with us, our family. My folks would just love to have you and, with my dad’s connections, he might be able to help you find your mom and dad.”

For a moment, Timmy did not answer. He threw Jason a startled look then relaxed. “No, Jason.” he said at last. “I’d just cause them trouble.”

He suppressed a shiver as the sounds of gun shots and screams echoed in his mind. He gave Jason another smile but it was far weaker. “Mom and dad made me promise that I would wait for them here.” He voice quivered slightly. “Inside their- I mean your dad’s theater. It won’t be long; they promised they would come back."

Jason merely shook his head, hiding his frustration. He had been trying to convince Timmy to talk to his parents for a while. Only Timmy would not free himself from his promise. He decided it wiser to drop the subject for the moment; seeing it was upsetting him.

“Jeff and I are going to be kept busy on and off stage tomorrow, moving scenery and setting up props. We won’t be able to watch your back.”

“I’ll be careful. When will everyone get here?”

Jason shrugged. “The staff and crew, including Jeff and I, will be here around four in the morning to get everything set up. The child actors and actresses are expected here at five with the adults arriving about a half an hour later.”

“How many kids will there be?”

“Let’s see; there are seven girls and seven boys.”

Timmy was surprised. “That’s fourteen kids!”

“Well sixteen, counting the lead role understudies.”

“You do want to see other children, don’t you?” The soft, pretty voice echoed from another poster.

Timmy turned to the poster, slightly blushing.

“Well, yeah, it would be nice to see other kids.” He admitted. “But to have so many here at once; I don’t know.”

Jason continued, ignoring Timmy’s statement. “There will be plenty of snacks lying around for the workers and performers, so no one will notice if you take a few.”

Timmy smiled. “I have plenty here.”

Jason grunted. “I know you, Timmy. You have a sweet tooth; you’ll take a few here and there.”

Hope filled Timmy’s eyes. “Can I watch the rehearsals?”

Jason nodded. “Sure; just try to stay out of sight. Those charm school rejects are not going to stop looking for you, even with everyone running around getting everything ready for opening night.”

Timmy giggled. The thought of watching a real performance excited him. “I’ll be careful.”

“Oh, and tone down your crazy laughter.” He smiled. “You’re beginning to scare even me.”

The two laughed for a moment before Jason looked at his watch.

“OOPS! I’ve got to get going, or my father will have a cow! I’ll catch you tomorrow, Timmy.”

Timmy nodded. “I’ll see you, Jason.”

Jason waved good bye and pushed passed the backdrop, into the shadows of the crawlspace. After he was gone, Timmy picked up the papers Jason had brought him to read and turned to the production posters.

“Tomorrow is going to be a good day, I just know it.”

....................

Several miles away, inside Angel’s apartment at the hotel, Angel stepped into her bedroom. She had balloons in one hand and a vase of flowers in the other. She closed the door with her foot then walked over to her bed. She placed the vase on her nightstand, and allowed the balloons to float to the ceiling in one corner of the room. Finally, she threw herself down onto the bed, smiling.

“What a party! I haven’t had so much fun since the musical tour began.” She was happy but exhausted; gazing up at the ceiling. ”I needed that after that press conference.”

Inside another room of the hotel suite, Maria dropped herself onto a couch, giving a long sigh of relief. “What a press conference! I’m surprised those reporters didn’t ask for the kids' favorite color!”

Mr. Thomas, Maria's lawyer, chuckled. He was a tall man with short dark brown hair and hazel eyes behind a pair of half moon glasses. He poured himself a small cup of coffee from a service cart. “Given the time, they probably would have. It’s a good thing the Stravis family hosted a party afterwards to relieve the stress a little.”

Maria sighed. “They are going to have enough stress going through rehearsals. This is not any local theater like during their tour; this is Broadway!”

Sarah smiled; pouring two cups of coffee. She handed one to Maria before sitting down. “I almost feel sorry for Mr. John Stravis; those reporters really tore into him over secrecy of the restoration of the Open Door Theater. Can you believe they left one wing untouched?”

Thomas nodded. “It's a mystery. I'm more worried about the new stage director." He paused. “It’s your ex-husband; we will meet him tomorrow.”

Maria took a quick sip of coffee and shook her head. “I just hope he doesn’t do anything to upset her; she’s going to have enough stress to deal with. Opening night is only three days away.”

“I'd better get going.” Looking at his watch, Thomas said. “We will meet you in the hotel lobby at four thirty tomorrow morning.” He rose from his chair; walking towards the door. “You had better get some sleep, Maria; tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

“I will.” replied Maria. “I just need to check up on Angel, make sure she’s tucked in.”

Thomas again nodded and left the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Inside her bedroom, Angel sat at the foot of her bed, reading over her lines and the musical scores. She smiled, happy to finally be playing on Broadway. Still, she reminded herself to stay focused and ready for the stage. She paused, thinking about the party.

“I’m going to have to remind myself to thank Mrs. Stravis.” Happy, she said. “I wonder if the other kids had as much fun as I did.”

A soft knock came to her door and Maria peeked inside.

“You’d better try to get some sleep, young lady.” Her voice was firm but kind. “You are going to need all of the energy you can get for the final rehearsals tomorrow.”

Angel gave her mom a reassuring smile. “I will, I promise.” Her smile faltered. “I just wish my dad could have come to the celebration party.”

Maria sighed, wearily. “I know, Angel. We did send him an invitation.” She smiled. “So, how does it feel to be the top story on the evening news?”

Angel shrugged. “It feels good to be a celebrity, I guess.” She smiled. “I don’t like some of those reporters, though; they ask too many questions.”

Maria giggled. “It all comes with the territory, Angel.” She blew her a kiss. “Good night, honey.”

“Good night mom.”

Maria smiled and left, closing the door behind her. After she was gone, Angel moved to the window; gazing at the starts that twinkled over the city skyline.

“Tomorrow is going to be a good day. I just know it.”

....................

Later that evening, inside the dimly lit corner of the crawlspace, Timmy slept uneasily. He moaned, restlessly tossing and turning on his bed of discarded costumes. Inside his mind, unsettling visions again invaded his dreams as they had every night before.

********************

His mom and dad ran down a dark alley behind the theater, through a pouring rain. Their faces pale, they occasionally looked back while dragging young Timmy with them. The three stopped near the end of the alley where a second alley branched off between two neighboring buildings. Out of breath and afraid, the young couple looked about nervously. Watching them, young Timmy knew that his mom and dad were frightened, a fact that frightened him more. He did not understand what was wrong, why they were running, and from whom.

“Did we lose them, Jonathan?” asked the woman.

“I don’t know, Martha.” panted the man. “I hope so.”

Then, the sounds of footfalls shattered the night silence. Martha gasped, seeing four long shadows approaching the mouth of the alley.

“Jonathan, they’re coming!”

Jonathan knotted his jaws in decision and quickly climbed up onto a dumpster. He jumped off, grabbing the ladder of a fire escape, bringing it down with him. Holding it close to the alley floor, he turned to Martha who nodded; she knew what he was thinking. She knelt down in front of Timmy, looking directly into his bright hazel eyes.

“Listen to me very carefully, Timmy.” Her voice was quivering. “I need you to climb that ladder daddy is holding. Follow it to the top, get into that corner window and find a place to hide.”

Young Timmy looked up and spotted the small window near the roof of the building on the corner. It was the only crawlspace window left that had not been bricked off. He turned back to her mother, with a hint of panic forming in his eyes.

Timmy was frightened and confused. “But- But why?” He paused, raising a hand to his mother’s cheek. “Why are you crying, mommy?”

Martha took Timmy’s hand and kissed it, holding back a sob. She looked as if she wanted to tell him something but she instead swallowed hard and turned to Johnathan.

“Mommy and Daddy have to go away for a little while, Timmy.” His voice was firm but sad. “Do you remember the small playroom your mom and I made for you inside the crawlspace for your birthday yesterday?”

Timmy looked at his father, frightened and uncertain, but he managed to reply. “Yes.”

Jonathan choked down a sob. “Good lad. We need you to be a very brave boy for us right now. We need you to quickly climb those steps to your new playroom and hide until mom and I can come back for you.”

“But- But when will you be back?” asked Timmy.

“It won’t be long, Timmy.” choked Martha. She then gave him a tight hug, slipping something into his back pants pocket. “Just promise me that you will wait for us.”

Timmy choked down a sob of his own as his mother let him go. It was beyond his ability to understand why his mother and father were so sad, or why they wanted him to hide. Still, again, he managed to find his voice. “I promise, mommy.”

“There’s no time to explain now, son.” His voice was stern and anxious. “Just go, now. Please.”

Too confused and frightened to argue or cry, Timmy climbed the ladder to the fire escape steps and followed them. Paused for a moment; hearing the ladder spring back up and hurried to the top. When he reached the open window to the crawlspace, he looked down into the alley. He was hoping to see where his mom and dad were going. He was greeted by the haunting sound of a woman’s scream, echoing over the heavy rain, just as two deafening gunshots rang out from the darkness.