Banana Man (a Novella) Read online

  Banana Man

  By Christian Blake

  Copyright © 2012 Christian Blake

  www.ChristianBlake.com

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Names, places, characters, incidents, and locations are either from this writer’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to person’s living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by

  Christian Blake

  P.O. Box 166

  Zephyr Cove, NV 89448

  Christian Blake books:

  Non-fiction

  The Seven Moments In Storytelling

  That Really Matter

  The Seven Moments In Storytelling

  – How To Use Conflict

  The Seven Moments In Storytelling

  – How To Use Discovery

  The Seven Moments In Storytelling

  – How To Use Reinforcement

  The Seven Moments In Screenwriting

  That Really Matter

  Christian Blake books:

  Non-fiction

  The Seven Moments In Life

  That Really Matter

  Fiction

  Fat Beaver and the Crucifix

  Zippo

  Banana Man

  Chapters

  School Bells Ring

  Cleary’s Market

  Danny Makes A Fire

  The Photographs

  Earning A Dollar

  Tucker Street Alley

  Charlie The Dog

  Officer Tibbs

  Burned Building

  Peter Duncan

  The Post Office

  Breaking The Law

  Buying Banana Man

  $10,000

  Bedtime

  CHAPTER ONE

  School Bells Ring

  The second edition of Danny Zuco’s favorite comic book, Banana Man, was freshly delivered and waiting for him at Cleary’s Market on the corner of Elm and Brook. Danny’s mom bought him the first issue as a birthday gift. And now, nearly eight weeks later, the second coming of Banana Man had arrived. Danny couldn’t wait to get out of school and buy it.

  The big delivery of comics came in on the first of every month, and today’s shipment arrived in the early afternoon, right about the same time Danny and his buddies worked their math problems on Ms. Jacobson’s blackboard. Normally Danny was an ace at math, but today his arithmetic was foggy at best. He made a number of errors. Ms. Jacobson was kind and forgiving, like always, politely showing him where he made mistakes. Lately she’d been extra patient with Danny, and she knew his mind just wasn’t there today. She could sense it. He kept gazing through the window at the incessant rain, watching the heavy downpour, thinking about his comic book. He didn’t know how he knew, but the moment Mr. Cleary sliced open that delivery box and pulled out the latest edition of Banana Man, Danny could feel in his heart the comic had finally arrived at Cleary’s Market. And he was right.

  The first edition of the bi-monthly comic had been an instant hit with Danny and his friends for a variety of reasons (and none of them related one bit to his mother’s method of picking out the comic). The boys immediately recognized the quality printing, the high grade paper, and of course the cover artist; Chuck Felzner – a genius sketch man who would later become a comic book god. Although it was still early in Chuck’s career at the time, and the cover art was a shadow of what Chuck’s talent would become, the boys saw an early glimpse of the Felzner magic in that artwork, and they all wanted a copy. Much later in Danny’s life when he was old and alone, and his childhood comic books were in a box tucked under his bed, those early issues of Banana Man would be worth several thousand dollars each. Not once during his long life did he ever consider selling them. Not even for a moment. They meant much more to him than money. They always did.

  Danny’s mom bought him a brand new bike and the first issue of Banana Man for his eighth birthday. He’d been asking his parents for a while to buy him a bike, but the comic was more of an afterthought than a planned present. You could say it was dumb luck that she even found the comic at all.

  She stopped at Cleary’s Market one humid afternoon and bought a cherry cola to cool down. That’s when she spotted the inaugural issue on the rack. She didn’t know much about comics, but she knew her son collected them and cared for them dearly. He’d been collecting them for some time. For Danny, comics were serious business. She’d help him strap each issue to cardboard backing and slide them inside protective sleeves. He stored them inside moving boxes, always standing them upright, and kept the boxes sealed shut. Sunlight was bad for the artwork. It faded the colors. And the cardboard backing kept the pages unbent. Danny explained the process of caring for his comics to his mother many times. She always listened with a patient ear.

  Danny would have freaked out if he knew how his mother selected Banana Man out of all those on the rack that day when she stopped at the neighborhood market. She had no concern for publishing companies, print quality, contributing artists, or whether or not the issue was a special edition (she didn’t even notice it was issue #1). All she saw on the cover was wavy blond hair and muscles. She thought he was cute. So she took a chance her son would like the comic and bought it. She guessed right, of course, although Danny’s eventual love for the series would transcend even what his friends appreciated. He cared for the comic for very different reasons.

  The latest edition of Banana Man would be on that spinning carousel squeezed between the arcade games. Like every comic for sale at the store, there would be limited copies. The store owner Mr. Cleary never ordered more than three of anything. The retired farmer barely kept the shelves stocked. The only reason he bought comics was because he knew Danny and the other neighborhood kids bought up every edition once the big shipment arrived on the first of the month. To keep them sold-out, Mr. Cleary bought exactly three prints; no more, no less. The short supply always left one kid crying because the comics ran out before he got to the store. Mr. Cleary was fine with that. He would rather have an empty magazine rack than unsold goods.

  If the first of the month landed on any other day of the week, the odds of Danny getting the latest issue of the comic would have been stacked against him. The first among his friends to get to the store always got his choice between the newest comics. That was the way of things. It was basically a race to Cleary’s whenever the big shipment came in. And lately, Danny had to ride his bike home from school while his comic-book collecting friends got rides. That meant they beat him to Cleary’s. But today was different. He was free to go home that afternoon while his buddies were stuck in detention, and that almost guaranteed he would soon be the proud owner of the second issue of Banana Man.

  On a bleak Thursday afternoon, school let out the same time as always: 2:45pm.

  The school bells rang in unison across the school grounds, echoing through the halls and across the courtyard and into the wet parking lot jammed with idling station wagons – a line of moms waiting in the dismal weather for the allotted time to pick up their children. One moment the shiny hall floors were silent and empty; the next they were filled with scuffling shoes and screaming kids rushing to escape school.

  Hundreds of grade school kids burst through the double hallway doors and spilled into the gloomy afternoon. The kids wore yellow raincoats and waterproof backpacks, and swung their colorful lunch pails. The drizzling rain didn’t bother them one bit. They ran headlong into the mist and deliberately splashed their way through the puddles, some running toward the parking lot, others making their way to the flashing yellow lights of the curbside buses. The
ir faces glowed with the kind of gleeful ecstasy only a child can express after being locked in a classroom all day. Rain or shine, all that mattered to those kids was freedom, even if it was only for an afternoon and a night. But for Danny Zuco, that particular Thursday meant much more than freedom. It was October 1st.

  Danny stepped through those double doors and out into the stormy weather. He stopped for brief shelter under the metal framed breezeway. Above him, the rain pelted the metallic awning at a furious pace. The stream of kids flowed around him and straight into the falling rain. They didn’t stop for cover. They didn’t care about getting wet – they wore raincoats, and Danny didn’t have one. He lost his not too long ago and couldn’t remember where he misplaced it.

  A single, lonely bike stood upright in the bike rack, fully exposed to the pouring rain. It was his. Danny would be the only kid biking home in bad weather that day. Normally he didn’t like that too much, but today was comic-book delivery day and his friends were trapped in detention. And the other kids taking the bus or riding home with their mom would probably get stuck in traffic. The roads were slippery and dangerous when it rained. Any comic-book collecting kid going home in a car would most likely be late getting to Cleary’s Market. But Danny wouldn’t be late. His bike could dart through traffic and cut between the houses and get to the store much quicker.

  Danny pulled his grey parka over his head, getting ready for the sprint through the rain. But it wasn’t going to help much, and he knew that. The parka was made of heavy cloth. It would soak up the water, not repel it. What he needed was a raincoat.

  He took a tentative step from under the awning and looked straight up at the stormy sky. Thousands of rain drops streaked toward his face. He kept his eyes open for as long as he could before he dashed across the wet asphalt to his bike.

  Danny knelt before his bicycle in the rain and spun the combination lock as quickly as he could.

  A tall boy with wet hair and a yellow raincoat approached. His name was Chris. The boys had known each other since first grade, which was a long time for kids of their age. He was one of Danny’s best friends, and they lived a few blocks from each other. Chris was an avid comic book collector too. He stood beside Danny’s bicycle, fidgeting with the handlebar. Chris looked like he wanted to ask a question, but was hesitant to ask. “Hey Danny.”

  “Hey,” Danny said, barely glancing up from what he was doing. He didn’t have time to chat in the rain. He needed to get home as soon as possible if he wanted to make sure he got one of the three copies of Banana Man.

  The rain splattered against the asphalt to either side of him while he worked that combination lock, spinning the wet dial to the appropriate numbers. The lock popped open, and he yanked his bike from the rack and began unwinding the chain. He had looped it several times through the front rim and wrapped it twice around the frame, like his dad taught him. He started unraveling it, and thought about his dad’s advice that it was never a good idea to lock only the front tire. Sometimes people stole everything but the tire. His dad always taught him good stuff.

  Chris finally asked the question that was on his mind: “Can you buy me a copy of Banana Man? I got detention with Billy and Tom, and I want to make sure I get one in case they beat me to Cleary’s.” Danny couldn’t help but appreciate the desperation in Chris’s voice, not in a mean way because Danny was a nice kid, but for the first time in a while the fact that Danny rode his bike home from school gave him an advantage.

  The boys competed fiercely for the latest edition of comics. Danny didn’t realize that Chris was collecting Banana Man too. It didn’t matter; Danny was all but guaranteed to get his hands on a copy long before his pals got to Cleary’s. He’d buy the comic and be home framing it before they got out of detention. “Sure,” Danny said. “Give me a buck and I’ll get one for you.” He wound the wet chain into a ball and stuffed it into his backpack.

  “I don’t have it but I get my allowance tomorrow. I can pay you back.”

  If Danny had an extra buck he’d gladly buy a copy for his friend, but he didn’t have so much as a nickel to his name. “I don’t have an extra buck,” he said, slicking his hair back so he could see. It had been awhile since he got a haircut and sometimes it got in his eyes, especially when it got wet. “I have to borrow a dollar from my dad for mine.” Danny put on his backpack and cinched the straps. He wiped the bike seat as best he could to get the water off and then climbed aboard. Drying his seat didn’t make much difference; without his raincoat his clothes were nearly soaked through to his skin, and he still had to ride home in the rain.

  Chris let out a sigh of disappointment and absently kicked at the ground with his sneaker. “Dang. I guess I’ll miss this one.”

  A boy shouted through the rain from across the courtyard, and Chris spun around. The twins, Tom and Billy, stood by Ms. Jacobson’s outer classroom door under the eave. Billy made an exaggerated, wind milling gesture with his arm, beckoning Chris over to them. Chris said to Danny, “I gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

  Danny sat on his bike and watched Chris run across the courtyard to the other boys.

  A few days earlier, Chris and the twins chased a little girl named Susie around the playground during recess. When they finally caught her behind those big tractor tires buried halfway into the ground, they took turns yanking her pigtails. They even took one of her pink bows (Chris ended up with it – he had a crush on Susie – and pinned it to his bulletin board at home). She ended up crying, of course. She ran straight to a recess teacher and told on them. The boys tried to hide but they got caught, and all three of them got in trouble. Now they had to stay after school in detention and write an apology letter to Susie.

  Ms. Jacobson stepped outside and greeted the boys with open arms. Even though they were in detention, and technically being punished for bad behavior, she was still their favorite teacher. She was Danny’s favorite too. She’d be nice to them, and probably give them juice and a couple of cookies before detention ended. She wrapped her arms around Tom, Billy, and Chris, and ushered them through the open door and into her classroom. When she stepped back outside to kick the door jam free, she spotted Danny across the courtyard sitting on his bike in the rain. She watched him for a moment, unmoving, and then smiled real big before waving good-bye. He waved back. Then she closed the door.

  “Bye Danny!” Susie said as she stomped her feet into a shallow puddle near the bike rack. She was the girl the boys teased during lunch recess. She climbed into the front seat of her mom’s station wagon, pulled shut the heavy door, and hugged her mom. Danny watched the two of them as the rain’s tempo increased, his clothes soaking up more rainwater and getting heavier by the minute. He might not be getting a ride home from school today, but that was fine with him because he’d be getting a copy of Banana Man. Wet clothes would certainly be worth it. From inside their car and behind the busy windshield wipers, Susie pointed at Danny and said something to her mother. Both Susie and her mom waved to Danny as they drove by.

  He checked his watch: 3:00pm. He had plenty of time to get home and borrow the buck from his dad and then get over to Cleary’s. His friends wouldn’t get out of detention until four.

  Last month he missed out on the latest comics because his buddies beat him to the store, but this time luck was on his side. He would have first choice from the latest shipment, and the only issue that mattered this month was Banana Man.

  Danny gripped the handlebars and pedaled away from school, heading home in the driving rain.

  He rode for about ten minutes, taking numerous side streets to get to his house. However, he avoided Tucker Street and the alley behind it. There was a mean dog named Charlie that lived in the alley. The dog enjoyed attacking little kids.

  He had seen the dog only one time. Tucker Street Alley provided a nice shortcut to the post office and his mom’s favorite grocery store on the other side of the railroad tracks. Not too long ago, during a weekday evening, his dad sent him to pick up the mail. It j
ust so happened that his dad sent him to the post office at the same time Danny’s favorite cartoons were on television. He didn’t want to miss them, and like any kid would have done, he tried to hurry so he could get back home before the cartoons ended. He tried to save time by taking the shortcut. It was the closest he ever came to getting bitten by a dog.

  The frothy mouthed dog sprang at him the moment Danny neared an overgrowth of bushes. It scared the boy to high heaven, and Danny ran all the way down the alley, over the tracks and highway, and straight to the post office without stopping. On the way back home he walked the long way around by crossing the street at the traffic signal. From that day forward, Danny avoided Tucker Street Alley.

  He rode his bike around the final corner to his house only to see the driveway was empty. His dad’s work truck wasn’t there which meant his dad wasn’t home yet. Normally his father got back from work at the same time Danny got home from school or at least close to it. But lately his dad had been working overtime to pay some unexpected bills. At least that’s what he told Danny. All Danny knew was that his dad left the house earlier in the morning and got home a little later in the day.