Dave Casler
PO Box 98
Ridgway, Colorado 81432

Young Adult Novels by Dave Casler...

I've been told by publisher after publisher that there's no market for Young Adult novels. I think they're wrong! So I'm putting my novels on-line for you. Forget the publisher! Read to your heart's content--it's free! And, I'd like to hear from you, too! Contact Page.

You're reading About Dan. Be sure to check out About Phillip here.

Dan is a normal kid who loves his soccer. Except everything goes wrong. Everything.

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Adult Conversation

          Dan fiddled with his guitar until 8 P.M. The strings were just too old to hold tune. At the appointed time, he heard the dial tone. Joyce, whoever she was, answered.

          "Oh, good, Maria, I'm so glad you called back. Jimmy's in bed and Tom's out of town. We can talk as long as you want. What's up?"

          Much of what his mom had to say was news to Dan. Her franchise was in jeopardy, she said, because revenues were dropping precipitously. She was so tired that she decided to see the doctor again. Her stomach was hurting all the time. She wondered if it was her nerves, but antacids didn't help.

          "All Dan wants to do is play soccer. That's his whole life. He really doesn't do anything else. And he’s such a stupid goody two-shoes. I think he gets it from that silly church he keeps going to. They always tell him to do stupid little things to honor his parents"—and she used a screwed up, sarcastic voice for "honor his parents"—" like what he did tonight. He loaded the dishwasher. He never does that. It's fake. He put half of the dishes in the wrong place. I finally got everything straightened out. It took me longer than if he hadn't done anything. I tell you, Joyce, the kid is a nightmare. He's so demanding. He handed me his school paper tonight, just twenty minutes ago, and demands I proof it right now. He's had this assignment for a week. He thinks I'm his maid. And when I ask him simple questions, such as where he put something or to clean his room, he explodes. I hate the teen years. He was such a sweet kid, now he's an ugly teenager.

          Dan was dumbfounded. But it wasn't over.

          "That church of his! I know we were all Mormons back in happier times, but then Ed just left me. The church teaches about happy families, but it sure didn't help us when Ed lost interest in our marriage. I begged the bishop to do something, but he wouldn't stop Ed. He could have, I'm sure. He kept talking about Ed's 'free agency'"—there was that screwed up, sarcastic voice again—"and asked me to see a counselor with Ed. He wanted me to pray with Ed, as if that was going to do any good. Well, Ed left anyway. He left me with Dan when he was 12 when he was most active in after-school sports, and I'm the one who schlepped his butt to these stupid football games—I’m sorry, it’s soccer in America. I tell you, Joyce, all I got out of the church was platitudes and nonsense. I finally decided if anything good was going to happen to me, I was going to have to do it myself. I tried to get Dan to stop going, but he always wanted to go, and Ed insisted on a clause in the separation agreement that Dan had to go to church, so I have no choice but to let him go. I don't think he understands anything they teach; he just goes because he dates the bishop's daughter and has a few friends there and he's been thoroughly brainwashed. Plus I think he goes just to spite me. It's just awful. I wish I could wave a magic wand and have our Mormon past go away."

          Dan's jaw hung open; he stared intently at the computer. He wished he could turn up the volume.

          Joyce asked her why she continued to claim to be a Mormon.

          "I don't know. I probably should have my name removed from the records of the church. But Dan would freak out to high heaven. He keeps hoping I'll see the error of my ways and go back to church. Ha! That will be the day. But it avoids arguments. I've put my foot down. I don't want any home teachers or visiting teachers, and I don't want their church people in the house. I've had to relent a little lately, because of Dan's injury."

          Dan bent closer. Joyce murmured something about how Mormons can help with Dan’s leg. Dan silently agreed.

          The subject turned to Dan's father. "To tell you the truth, Joyce, I don't know who Dan's father is. Dan doesn't know this, so don't tell a soul, but Ed and I were married after I became pregnant. I convinced Ed he was the father, and maybe he is, I don't know. I was, I guess you'd call it, sexually active back then. We joined the Mormons when Dan was two. I was settling down in those days. But Ed was always cool toward me; he accused me of tricking him into marrying me. Maybe I did, I don't know. He would make love to me, but it seemed like it was just something he was supposed to do. We never had any more children because he didn't want any. We came to America because he had a job offer over here, but our marriage was already suffering. It was sort of like I wasn't even there. I mean, he was polite enough, and all that, but I wanted passion. One day, after we'd been here two years, he said, nice as you can be, that he didn't want to be married anymore. He never did give me a reason. He had little interest in Dan, but get this, he insisted Dan be raised in the Mormon Church. It's so weird. I just don't understand men. And so here I am. We're in America, I'm away from my family, I had this twelve-year old who's absolutely loving America, what am I to do? He abandoned me, Joyce, he abandoned me." She sobbed. "Maybe when Dan goes off to college, I can go back to England. He's 16 now, so it's just a couple more years. I just hope I have the money. The way my business is going, I’ll soon be out of work. I don't know how I'll make the house payment. And Ed won't give me a penny. He's done paying alimony and he just gives me minimum child support and that's it. He threatens to say he isn't the father if I press hard. He totally messed up my life!" She cried some more.

          Dan's heart pounded and his vision blurred. He gasped for breath. He floundered for something to think.

          He barely heard Joyce give her some gentle encouragement. He caught a few words suggesting that maybe he was just trying to be helpful by loading the dishwasher. She said to drop by any time. And then they hung up.

          Dan stared at the computer for several seconds and then put his head down on his hands. Feelings of intense loneliness overwhelmed him. Mom doesn’t want me and dad won’t claim me. Whose kid am I, anyway? For a moment a sob rose in his chest, but he stifled it. His eyes hurt and his sleeves were wet. I’m in trouble if mum sees me like this. He hauled himself to his feet and swept into the bathroom, crutches flying. He washed his face and hands and went back to his room.

          His mother was waiting for him. She was contrite.

          "Dan, here's your paper. I made some spelling corrections, and you have some odd grammar here and there. Oh, and thanks for loading the dishwasher." She looked into his eyes hopefully.

          Dan averted his gaze, hoping his mother wouldn't see the tears that were starting to form again. He stammered out a "thanks."

          As his mother turned to go, he said, " Mum, can I use the modem? I'm expecting an e-mail from Phillip."

          "Uh, sure. Just don't stay up too late."

          There were two e-mails. The first was from his dad. Do I even want to look at it?

          He flipped through the comments his mother had made. Spelling. Grammar. Punctuation. Dad’s suggestion is excellent. Why didn’t mum say anything like that?

          He turned to the second e-mail, the one from Phillip. It contained detailed instructions and looked complicated. He could do it later.

          As he prepared for bed, a question kept nagging. If he isn’t my dad, why does he call me "son" and sign "love?"