Date: Thu, 10 May 2012 09:19:28 -0600
From: Michael king <thewriter1@live.ca>
Subject: Lives changed Chapter2-C

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


NOTE:

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

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


CHAPTER THREE THE FIGHTS START

As Malcolm, Patrick, Zeke and Malcolm's dad were having breakfast,
Elizabeth Daniels was getting dressed. Her choice of clothing was a long
black dress and a wide-brimmed hat that had a veil to cover her face. After
dressing, she sat in her bedroom and started making a few phone calls. The
first was to the school principal and then to the officer that had taken
the statements from the students, the same officer that had tried to stop
Patrick from entering the courthouse. As Elizabeth was talking with the
officer, the principal was calling the school board chairman and they all
agreed to meet at a small, dark restaurant on the far side of the city.

Two hours later everyone was seated around a table in the far back corner
of the restaurant, their voices lowered, talking. "Maurice, this strike has
to stop. It is getting out of hand," the board chairman spoke.  "What can
we do? So far everything the students have done has been within the law,"
the principal replied, a bit of venom in his voice.

"Actually, they are breaking the law; they can be charged with truancy,"
the officer stated.

"That will only cause more of a problem," the chairman said.

"How so?" Maurice, the principal, asked.

"Because they will claim we were stepping all over their rights," the
chairman stated.

"Gentlemen, all you have to do is get rid of Malcolm Daniels and everything
falls apart," Elizabeth spoke up from where she was sitting quietly in the
shadows.

"How do we do that? We can't kill him, and we already tried to have him put
in juvenile hall," Maurice asked.

"I don't care how you do it, but I will pay you ten thousand dollars each
when it is done," Elizabeth stated with a cold fury in her voice.

With that said, Elizabeth got up and walked away from the meeting and out
of the restaurant.  She went home and soon forgot all about what was said
as she went to the kitchen and started to prepare a roast chicken dinner.

With five weeks left until Christmas, the students from Malcolm's school
started going to all the schools in the district talking to others and
soliciting their help to get the school board to make drastic changes in
their policies. The more the students talked at the other schools, the more
students joined in the strike.

The Monday after he was found "not guilty" Malcolm talked to the newspapers
and television stations in the area, asking them to support the
students. He even wrote a news article and sent it to the papers hoping it
would be printed.

One of the TV news crews showed up at the school to talk to the kids.

"Who is the leader here?" one female reporter asked."

"That would be Patrick Jacobs. He is over there talking to a few parents,"
one student said.

"Thank you," the reporter replied and headed towards Patrick.

Patrick was busy talking when he saw someone walking towards him. "Who are
you?" Patrick asked.

"I am Amelia Jenkins. I am a reporter with Channel Four news. Someone
called and told me that there was a student strike going on," she said.

"Yes, that is correct. Are you gonna talk about us, or the school board?"
Patrick asked.

"Well, I would like to hear your side of the story, then, yes, I will talk
with the school board. I am not going to do a one-sided story," Amelia
replied.

"Fine. As long as you tell it straight and not like others who lied,"
Patrick snapped.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the principal, Mrs. Rogers and the police."

"This all deals with the Malcolm Daniels case?"

"Of course. The principal was wrong when he expelled Malcolm."  "Why don't
you tell me what happened?"

"Sure. Malcolm stood up to some bullies, kicked their butts and put them in
the hospital because they thought they could do whatever they wanted. The
principal, Mrs. Rogers and the police didn't listen to what happened and
the school board ignored our pleas for change. So, in order to make them
see we are serious, we decided to hold this strike. When Malcolm was found
not guilty in court, the principal told us all to go back to class. When we
asked if Malcolm was allowed back to school he said no. I said that then I
wasn't going back to class. Well, he expelled me. The other students
followed me and they too said no."

"But all these students can't be from just your school?"

"They're not. They come from all the schools in the district because they
also want changes that stop bullying. But there is more: the students from
the school I go to want the principal and Mrs. Rogers, a teacher, to
resign."

"I see. So this is the whole school district?"

"Yes, all fifty schools. We have some parents helping us, but some think we
are wrong to strike and should be back in class."

"Well, thank you. I would like to follow up on this after I talk with the
school board. Do you think that Malcolm would grant us an interview also?"

"I don't know. He is having his own problems."

The next day the morning paper ran a few pages on the student strike,
outlining everything that was going on. Malcolm read it and then left it on
the table. Running upstairs to his room, he sat at the computer writing
another couple chapters for his next book. He had just finished when he
heard his mother yelling.

"God damn brat! Even without him in school he still hangs with trash. I am
going to put him in a boarding school even if it kills me," Elizabeth
screamed.

"What are you yelling at, Elizabeth?" Papa asked.

"Malcolm is stirring up trouble again, that is what I am yelling about."

"What has he done now?"

"Here read this. Those kids should be in school, not being trash and
thinking they're adults."

"Well maybe they think they are in the right. A person who is found not
guilty shouldn't be condemned after the fact, and the school is doing
that," Papa interrupted.

"Shut-up! The school board is right, in keeping Malcolm out of school. Look
what he did. Those boys will never get over the beating he gave them."

"I hope not, maybe they will learn not to be bullies," Papa stated.

"They weren't bullies," Elizabeth snapped.

"How do you know that, were you at the school everyday? Were you watching
them?" Papa asked.

"No, but I know the parents. I have met the boys; they have always been
polite and respectful.

"Elizabeth, grow up. Get your nose out of the clouds. As for Malcolm going
to a private school, you heard Richard, that isn't going to happen," Papa
stated with harshness in his voice that Elizabeth hadn't heard for a long
time.

"Yes he will, and I will see to it!"

"Then I guess you will be getting a job to pay for it?"

"Why should I, I have money right here."

"Elizabeth, you don't have a cent, don't you realize that? What you have is
what Malcolm and Richard have let you have."

Suddenly Malcolm appeared from his room, startling his mother.

"Mother, I think you better leave. Papa, I am filing with the courts to
have everything turned over to me. I'm sorry, but I don't need this fight
at home when my friends are out there fighting for me and school policy
changes. I will be speaking with a lawyer this afternoon."

"Malcolm, I had hoped this day wouldn't come, but it has and I am
sorry. However, I will stand by your wishes," Papa said.

"I will not be leaving this house, it is mine," Malcolm's mother
screeched."

"Yes, you will! Oh, and mother, you will be leaving your jewelry here also,
since it was my money that bought it, and if I recall, you never did ask me
if you could."

"THAT'S IT. YOU GO TO YOUR ROOM AND STAY THERE."

"No, mother. This is my house and I will go where I want. Now, you go and
take off MY jewelry, pack your bags and get out. If you don't I will have
the police come and remove you."

"He has spoken Elizabeth; there is nothing more you can do."

"Where will I go?"

"For as much as I care, mom, you can go live with your other snob
friends. Oh, one other thing, you can forget about coming back. I will have
you arrested if you do."

"You can't mean that?"

"I can and I do. Now, you have one hour to get the hell out of my house."

"Ooooohhhhh, I'll get even with you for this. I will see you in court!"

"Fine, but now you're down to thirty minutes. Any more yelling and you can
go just like you are right now, but without the jewelry."

Papa Daniels was in the front room when Richard came home from
work. Malcolm was in the kitchen making dinner, so he didn't hear the door
open or close.

"Hi, Dad," Richard spoke. "What's for dinner? Do you know?"

"No, Malcolm won't let me in the kitchen."

"Why isn't Elizabeth cooking?"

"You will have to ask your son that, but don't be surprised by what you
hear."

"Oh, that bad?"

"Could be. Go talk to him."

In the kitchen, Malcolm was bent over the open oven door checking a small
roast when his dad walked in.

"Hey, son, what is this I hear that you're cooking dinner?"

"Well, someone has to since Mother isn't here anymore."

"Where is she?"

"I really don't know. We had a fight this morning and I told her to leave,
and that she had to leave her jewelry here as I paid for it. Then this
afternoon I filed a petition with the courts to have everything turned over
to me. My lawyer feels I have a good chance of succeeding.

Dad, I still want you looking after things, but—and this is a big
but—Mother is to receive nothing. She has to learn that no one is
special and that money means nothing when others are in trouble or
hurting."

"I see. Where does that leave me and Grandpa?"

"Right here with me, I hope. I'm not asking you two to leave."

"Thanks, son, but you know I love your mother. This could make things very
difficult for us?"

"Dad, I didn't mean to hurt you. I am sorry. You know she has made my life
difficult. Ever since grade four she has been on my back. I was never good
enough for her and her snobby friends. Well, since I heard you say
everything was mine I checked it out and decided that I had to stand up to
her and stop it."

"Okay, son, I know you did what you had to and I know you tried your best
to make things work. If you feel this is the way she has to learn I will
stick with you through it."

"Thanks, now go get Papa. Dinner is ready."

The next morning the ringing of the phone wakened Malcolm.

"Yeah, who is this?"

"Patrick. Have you seen the paper yet?"

"No, you woke me up. Why?"

"Get up and read it. There is a story that says you kicked your mom out of
the house."

"Oh, hell! This is all I need right now. First the school, now mom! Who's
next?"

"I don't know. You going over to Mike's Place this morning?"

"Yeah, meet you there in half hour."

"Great! See you there."

As he walked into Mike's, Malcolm got stared at by just about everyone. He
walked slowly to the back table where he saw Patrick sitting along with
Zeke and another little kid. Maggie walked over and placed juices down and
left without saying anything.

"Damn, did I grow warts or horns overnight?" he asked Patrick as he sat
down.

"No, but here you better read this before you say anything," Patrick
whispered.

"Morning, Zeke. Who's your friend?" Malcolm asked.  "This is my little
brother Aaron," Zeke replied, hugging Aaron close to him.

"Hi, Aaron, I'm Malcolm," Malcolm said with a smile.

"I know who you is," Aaron whispered.

Picking up the paper, Malcolm saw that his mother had told the reporters
that he had kicked her out of the house with nothing but her clothes. That
part was true, but the part that got Malcolm was that she said the house
was hers and that Malcolm had no right to kick her out. Further, Elizabeth
stated she had gotten Legal Aid to help her get a lawyer to fight Malcolm
in the courts to have him committed as he is unstable.

"What is this garbage? The house isn't hers, and I am not insane!" Malcolm
said a bit too loudly.

"I know that you're not crazy, Malcolm. Just relax, don't let people think
she is right. Let the courts handle it, you have your dad and grandfather
on your side, plus you have others, like me and my family," Patrick spoke
calmly.

"Yeah, you got me, too," squeaked Zeke. "You helped me and my brother
lots."

"Thanks guys, it's just that there's so much going on right now," Malcolm
replied.

"Yeah, and the reporters want a chance to talk to you about this school
strike thing."

"Well, I guess that be okay, although I want to stay in the background,
like I said."

"I know, but with this out now you can't. You've got to come out and say
something."

"I know; guess I better talk to my lawyer first."  "Okay, I'll tell every
one that you could be showing up to cheer things up."

"You boys going to eat or just take up space?" Maggie asked."

"Miss Maggie, please sit a minute. I think you're pissed and I need to
explain," Malcolm spoke softly.

"Malcolm Daniels, I went to court on your behalf. I know you wouldn't hurt
anyone, but to kick your own mother out?" Maggie questioned.

"Miss Maggie, please sit and let me explain."

"Fine, but I don't know if it will change my mind."

"I can try, at least. First, you have known me for just over two years,
and, as you said in court, I wouldn't do something that wasn't right. Well,
this fight with my mother started long before I first came here. Have you
ever read the poems or short stories of Michael King?"

" Yes, they are very good; some of them even make me cry."

"Those are mine; I write under the name Michael King. I didn't think the
first book I sent in would go anywhere, but it did. I got a letter back
saying that it was going to be published, and I even got an advance
cheque. Mom flipped out and said I had ruined the Daniels name, that I
shouldn't be doing such mundane things and that writers were nothing but
trash. That's why the pseudonym. Then my first book of short stories sold,
then more and more. Mother never gave in; she thought that our name was too
good to be associated with writers, and, well to her, other "low life. She
doesn't like me hanging around with the people I do, and, to her, everyone
except people with money are trash.

She doesn't believe that I defended myself at school; she thinks those
three boys are angels. In my own home—a house that I own,
incidentally—she continued saying I flipped out and was a criminal. She
tried to keep me in my room and said that was where I would be eating
also. Yesterday, when she read the story on the student strike and saw my
name in there, she flipped out. So, yes, I told her to leave my house. I
have tried to be nice to her. I tried to keep things quiet. She kept
pushing until she left me no choice. Maggie, I did what I felt was right."

"I see. I always wondered why you came here for breakfast, and I never did
see you with a lunch for school. Oh, Malcolm, I'm so sorry. I jumped to
conclusions that I shouldn't have."

"It's okay, Miss Maggie. I guess that being fourteen a person gets into
more fights than they should?"

"Yes, Malcolm, they shouldn't be fighting. They should just be happy boys,
carefree and full of laughs. Now is it waffles for everyone?"

Maggie got four "yes, please" from around the table and big
smiles. "Malcolm I didn't know you had it that hard at home," Patrick said.

"Yeah, guess we lucky we live on the streets," Aaron said, getting a jab in
the ribs from his brother.

Malcolm glared at Zeke. "Not anymore, Zeke, and this time I am not taking
no for an answer. You and Aaron are coming home with me."

"But what will your dad say?" Zeke asked.

" Well, he will probably toss you two in the shower and toss your clothes
in the trash," Patrick laughed.

"Then what would we wear," Aaron asked.  "I have lots of clothes that
should fit both of you," Malcolm said as he reached out and ruffled Aaron's
hair.

After eating, Patrick helped Aaron and Zeke wash up as Malcolm went to pay
the bill. He was just reaching for his wallet when Maggie came up.

"Malcolm, Mike told me to take your bill and toss it. He sees what you are
trying to do, and he also listened to what I told him about you and your
mother. He says your meals here are free from now on, and it doesn't matter
if it is just you or if you have your friends there. Now, off you go. Have
fun today."

"Thanks Maggie, and tell Mike thanks also."

"Get out of here before I start crying."

"You're a saint, Maggie."

"Go on, git!"

Leaving Mike's place, the four walked towards the school. Malcolm was
holding Zeke and Aaron's hands as Patrick moved towards the strikers.

"Malcolm, do me a favor. Let me go in first and that way I can sort of talk
to everyone and set it up so you come in as a surprise," Patrick suggested.

"Okay, lets see what happens," Malcolm said, a frown forming on his face.

"Kewl. What I can do is take these two turkeys with me and then you come in
and cheer everyone up."

"You're the leader of this strike, not me, so what you say we'll do."

Watching Patrick head off with the brothers, Malcolm stood back and
waited. He could see and hear everyone saying "hi" and giving Patrick a pat
on the back. Making his way to the front of the group, he turned and
smiled.

"Hey everyone, I guess you all saw the paper this morning. Well, don't
believe all of it. I have talked with Malcolm and he confirmed he did kick
his mother out, but he also told me a lot more. Now, I have a surprise for
you. As you know, we started this strike because Malcolm got kicked out of
school, then I got booted, too. Well everyone, I want you to know that
Malcolm is here today to give us some cheer."

"If he is here then where is he?" A student hollered from the group.

"Here he comes now, so spread apart and let him come through."

Malcolm was slowly walking up to the front, shaking hands and saying "hi"
to everyone. Once at the front, he saw everyone move back together—all
looking at him.

"Hi, everyone. I am surprised at the number of people here. I wasn't really
expecting to talk today, but I guess, as Patrick says, you all need to be
cheered up. So, here's the story.

Ever since I can remember, I have always been told to do what I think is
right, and I have tried to do just that. I tried when I spoke with the
bullies, but they didn't listen.  The teachers refused to listen to the
complaints of students regarding bullying, and the school board refuses to
acknowledge the fact that there is a problem. Yes, I did put three boys in
the hospital, but am I happy I did? No, but I stood up for what I thought
was right, and that is the right to defend oneself and to defend those that
can't. I was expelled because of doing what I thought was right. I learned
later that it just wasn't because I defended myself. It was because I was
seen as being different; because I didn't conform to what the school board
wants. Not everyone wants their boys to have short hair and to conform to
the way things have always been. I am one of those people; I am a rebel.

When I heard that you started this strike I wanted it stopped. I didn't
want anyone to get into trouble because of me. I have since learned that
you all feel that what you are doing is right, and I appreciate that and so
I will stand with you. I know that the school board will think that I am
doing this for revenge. Well, I can put that to rest because I'm not. I am
doing this with you to see that changes are made, that the schools and the
school boards change their policies on bullying. I am standing with you so
that those in responsible positions may listen to our complaints. I stand
with you in wanting Mrs. Rogers and Principal Marshall to resign or be
fired.

It is time for people to realize that we are serious, but I am
asking—no, pleading—that we keep the student strike
non-violent. Thank you all for your support during my trial and also for
helping me get back into school."

"Mr. Daniels, did you expect this to happen when you were expelled?" a
woman spoke from the middle of the crowd.

"Who are you?" Malcolm asked.

"Oh, sorry. I am Amelia Jenkins with Channel Four news," Amelia answered.

"Well ma'am, no I didn't. I figured that with my expulsion that would be
the end of it," Malcolm replied.

"So you didn't tell the students to stage this strike?"

"I don't know where you heard that, but I had no idea it was happening
until my lawyer told me."  "Mr. Daniels, the school board chairman told us
that, and now you're saying it isn't true. How do you feel about what they
have said?"

"Ma'am, as I said in court and I say again now, people, especially elected
ones, are so set in their ways that they refuse to see the need to
change. I also stated that if I went to jail it wouldn't change anything or
if I were set free nothing would change either. Tell me, have you seen any
changes happening, even with the judge ordering it?"

"Mr. Daniels, what about the report that you kicked your mother out of her
house?"

"On that I don't have any comments yet. When the time comes to speak on
that, I will."

"What about her saying that you're unstable?"

"Do I look or sound unstable?"

"No, so what are you going to do now?"

"What every boy my age does when not in school. I am going to go have fun
and be a kid, that is after I go clothes shopping."

At Malcolm's home, his Papa and dad were watching the news report. "You
realize, Dad, that we are going to be in for a huge fight?" Richard asked."

"Yes, I do. Malcolm more so, but I did tell him I would stand with him and
I will."

"Great, I guess we had better get our lawyers ready then."

"That I have already done.  Your son is a rebel, Rich, but I am very proud
of him."

"So am I, Dad. I guess I better go meet him at the mall if he is going to
buy clothes."

"I'll start lunch then."

For the next month Malcolm was with the students standing out in front of
the school. As time went on, the papers starting picking up more and more
stories of students across the state going out, joining in the student
strike for changes. There were interviews with school board
representatives, mayors and finally with the governor of the state. All of
them said that Malcolm Daniels was to blame and that he should be charged
with inciting a riot. Almost everyone thought that was funny since there
was no violence involved.

The State of Florida school system had been effectively shut down by the
student strike, and yet the demanded changes were not happening. Parents
started to worry about what would be done. The governor went on TV and
demanded the FBI be sent in and have Malcolm Daniels arrested, but the FBI
Director in Washington called and told him that he couldn't do that.

The first of February came and it was hot, Malcolm had just gotten up and
dressed when his dad stopped him.

"Malcolm there is a state police officer here."

"Yeah? Why? What did I do now?"

"I don't know, but Mr. Stillman is on his way so at least you have a lawyer
present."

"Thanks dad. What's for breakfast?"

"Cereal and toast."

"Okay."

	Mr. Stillman showed up as Malcolm was eating. With the state
police, Papa, Malcolm and his dad in the kitchen the place was crowded.

"Officer, what is this about?" Malcolm asked."

"Well, young man, we have a subpoena for you. There is a Senate Committee
hearing going on in Washington and I have the task of making sure that you
show up for it?"

"Do they realize I am just fourteen?"

"I have no idea. All I know is that you have to go."

"Fine, then let me pack a bag, call my friend to let him know what is going
on, and then we can go."

"Malcolm, you don't have to go," Mr. Stillman spoke up.

"Yes, I do. I am not going to run from the law or from anything that has
happened."

"I see. In that case then I better call a couple lawyers there who can help
you."

"Thanks, Mr. Stillman. Dad, Papa are you two coming?"

"No, I can't, I have to work. But I will be there with you in your heart."

"Papa?"

"Sorry, Malcolm, I don't think this is a trip I can take. You know that I
stand behind you no matter what. We are very proud of you."

"I know Papa and I love you."

"Come on, Son, go pack and call your friends," Richard spoke up.

Once upstairs, Malcolm called Patrick and told him what was happening and
asked him to let the others know and to tell Amelia also since she was on
their side. Getting Patrick's okay, Malcolm hung up and packed his bag and
returned to the police officer. Richard gave Malcolm his gold credit card
and told him to get himself a good room. Since the government was paying
the bill, Malcolm didn't have to worry about a plane ticket.


Email me if you wish me to continue. Thewriter1@live.ca