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)
The Denver Area Aids Outreach
The sign on the window proclaimed " Denver Area AIDS Outreach" and underneath, "DAAO." The logo was a stylized dove. There were maybe a dozen people sitting inside, some talking, some reading, some just staring into the distance; their moods as varied as the colors of the rainbow. Dan pulled the door open, propped it with his foot so he could get his crutches around it, and went in. The door, on a strong spring, hit him on his backside as soon as he pulled the crutch after him. He swore under his breath.
A pretty young woman with a clipboard bounced up to him. She was maybe 25 and had a nametag that said simply "Marge" along with the stylized dove.
"Are you here for the testing session or the support group?" she perked. While Dan was still groping for words she continued. "I haven't seen you before." She paused and looked him over. "You seem rather young for this outfit." Dan wondered how red his face was. "Nothing to be afraid of," she continued. "We're all friends here. What can we do for you tonight?"
"Uh, testing," he stammered. He wanted to hide. Simply being here was making a statement.
"Ok, young man. Go to the desk on the left. If you have any more questions or would like some literature, let me know. I'll be here until ten."
Dan could have sworn she fluttered her eyelashes. He shook his head in wonderment and went over to the desk on the left.
The person behind the desk on the left was not perky. Completely bored, in fact. Dan guessed he was maybe 30. He was painfully thin, but spoke robustly enough. "How can I help you." A statement.
"I'm here to get an HIV test."
"Do you want confidential or anonymous testing."
"Anonymous, please."
"Ok. Take this number. We'll call you when your turn comes."
"Do you need my name or anything?" asked Dan.
"If you give us your name, it's not anonymous, now is it?" he sneered.
The seating pattern held neither rhyme nor reason. Most chairs were hand-me-downs and outcasts. Those with cloth coverings were threadbare; stuffing was hanging out. In between the chairs were small tables, all of which were covered with magazines, newspapers and pamphlets, sometimes spilling onto the floor. He took a seat against the wall.
Marge was busying herself with newcomers, her clipboard at the ready. Those who said they were here for the support group were directed up the stairs to a loft. Fifty people up there? They’re noisy. So that means those down here are testing. Most of the test-takers were relatively young, but one man was bald and had a gray mustache. Two women in their mid- twenties sat next to each other by the window. They were chatting quietly and occasionally touched each other to make a point. Dan did a double-take.
One fairly young man not far from him looked like he'd just stepped out of an advertisement for a brokerage. He was morose and stared at the floor. When his turn came he moved like a prisoner facing execution. He’s wearing a wedding ring. Dan stared.
What do they do behind the desk on the left? He picked up a newspaper from the mess on the floor. The articles focused on how this or that government agency was suppressing this or that group of people. Here was an article on how hard it was for people in the gay and lesbian community to get health insurance. We’re not in Boulder anymore, Toto. Another asserted Denver-area landlords were preying on the handicapped by charging them for accessibility features that were supposed to be free. He read the entire article. There were also extensive reviews of the Denver music scene. The want ads were for rental apartments and used cars for sale. I’ve never heard of this paper.
Suddenly there was a smattering of applause from the loft. The crowd quieted. Dan realized there was background music, a sort of fusion jazz, except it was different from anything he'd heard on the radio. Dan tried to read the newspaper. Is this paper banned in Boulder?
"Hi," said a handsome young man across from him. "Have you been here before?" He wasn’t much older than Dan, maybe 19.
College student? "Uh, no. This is my first time."
"Oh. It's my first time, too. I've been sort of, well, you know, playing the field, and I think one guy went too far with me. I figured it's better to check things out, you know." He looked at Dan like he wanted some reassurance.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so."
"I don't know what I'll do if I'm positive. Was really starting to enjoy myself. Only been a year since I came out. Seems such a shame to get into trouble so quickly."
Dan had no idea what to say. He'd stepped through some sort of space-time wormhole from his Sunday school class into a strange, forbidden world.
"How about you?" the man asked.
"Oh, I had an accident." It was all he could think to say.
"Yeah," he said. "That's how I discovered my sexuality, too. Are you out yet?"
Dan’s mouth moved but no words came out.
"Number 45!" called Marge.
"Oh, that's me. Well, good luck. Let's cross our fingers, shall we?"
He smiled at Dan as he got up. He patted Dan's good knee as he went toward the desk on the left. Dan took a deep breath. This is not worse than playing Anderson. This is not worse than playing Anderson. This is not worse…Hurry! Get to 46! He threw down the newspaper and slumped in the chair. An older man, just arrived, took a chair about 10 feet from Dan's and then commenced to stare at him. Dan glanced at him, but the stare didn't break.