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.
About Series Home
About the About Series
Index to All Chapters
Here are all the chapters, disguised as asterisks. Hover your mouse over an asterisk to see the title of the chapter. Click on the asterisk to go straight to that chapter.
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(About Dan Home) (Last) (Next)
Driving in Silence
Dan smiled. Ed's voice was friendly. Dan hadn't been sure what he would think or how he would react; his e-mails had been terse and to the point. They drove out of the parking lot and past a city park. Everything was brown--the grass, the shelters, the trees, the empty pond. Newspapers were blowing around in little eddies and some were speared on brown bushes. The evergreen trees, a sort of brown shade of green, were flailing helplessly in the wind. Even the bare cottonwoods, aspens and other naked trees were swaying. A large limb on one was broken and hung to the ground, still clinging to the mother trunk. Dan could hear sand hitting the side of the car.
"I don't like that," said Ed. "Not good for the paint."
They turned onto Table Mesa Road where the wind was to their back. They saw more trash fly past them.
"We're doing 35," said Ed. " That's some wind."
Dan still hadn't spoken. They turned onto US 36. They passed Louisville and then Broomfield. As they got further from the mountains, the wind diminished. Dan was deep in thought.
"How much do you know about what you'll be doing," asked Ed.
Dan was shaken out of his reverie.
"I did some research. There are several different tests. And I also found out it's a bit early to have the test. Normally they want you to wait six months after quote at risk behavior unquote. It sounds so sterile. I didn't think I was engaging in any kind of behavior, if you know what I mean; I was just playing soccer. Anyway, it’s called ELISA. It takes a week to get the results back," Dan reported.
Ed looked at Dan. "Do you want to go ahead, then?"
"Yeah, I do." He looked at his father. "Thanks for taking me. Mum wouldn't understand."
His dad smiled. "There's another kind of test that gives you results immediately, called the Murex-SUDS. Half an hour response. Do you want to do that? I’ll pay for it."
Dan pondered for several minutes as they drove along. They were in Westminster now; traffic was getting heavier.
"No. Let's get the free test. I can wait a week. From what I've been reading, AIDS is not the instant killer everyone makes it out to be." He looked at his dad. "I'm not as freaked out as I was last week."
Ed glanced to see if he was serious. "I know of a clinic down on Colfax. Are you going to want this one for your medical records?"
"No! I mean, if it's positive, I guess I should see a doc right away, but let's keep this anonymous, ok? I mean, they'll do that, won't they?"
Ed grinned. "I'm glad to see my son has done his homework. Yes, they'll do it anonymously. It’s an outreach clinic. This is not going to be a nice part of town. And, you'll have to go in by yourself. I don't know how long you'll have to wait. I'll drop you in front. Here, take Mike's cell phone." Ed glanced down. "I didn't think about the crutches."
"How do you know so much about AIDS," asked Dan.
Ed glanced at Dan and then back at the traffic. People were starting to turn on their headlights.
"When one's son talks about AIDS, one's dad turns to the Internet. And, I made a few phone calls. They run this clinic once a month; it's tonight."
Dan sat silently. Dad knows this subject better than he lets on. How’d he know about the clinic? They made the transition from US 36 to I-25 southbound. Neither said anything as Ed exited at Speer. They swung around the loop and then across the bridge over the South Platte and the railroad tracks. He saw the huge roller coaster at Elitch's on the right and the tall buildings of downtown Denver on the left. They turned left from Speer onto Colfax. Soon they were immersed in the downtown rush hour traffic and crept by the U.S. Mint. As they drew even with the Colorado State Capitol building with its high, gold-covered dome, glistening in the last of the sun, Dan spoke.
"What do I tell them?"
Ed replied without taking his eye off traffic.
"Nothing. Just tell them you want the standard test for HIV and you want it to be anonymous. They'll give you all the information you need. There will be lots of people there."
The sidewalks were as crowded as the streets. Dan thought ruefully that this place was a world away from Boulder. There were no parks or open spaces. Trash collected in every doorway. The racial makeup was much more reflective of the world population than was Boulder's. In between the seedy shops the bars did a booming business. He saw pawn shops with guitars in the windows; he made a mental note. Panhandlers in filthy pants were on the prowl. Stout iron bars graced all the windows. The convenience stores were as gritty as the people in them.
"There it is," said Ed, pointing to the right.
Dan wordlessly opened the door and gathered his resolution about him like armor. He pushed his crutches out and propped them against the door. Saying a silent prayer—his first in several days—he pulled himself from the safety of the deep bucket seat. He stood, put his crutches under his shoulders, and closed the car door. Trying not to look totally freaked out, he faced his next obstacle, the high curb. His dad was pulling away; with him went all hope of refuge. He grabbed a signpost and pulled himself up onto the sidewalk. In doing so, he dropped a crutch back into the street. A wandering panhandler looked at him for a moment, picked up the crutch, handed it to Dan, said "bless you, brother," and went on his way.