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)
Making Arrangements for the Next Lesson
Dan was surprised. "This thing’s as light as a feather!"
"Yes, it's a nice guitar. Here, put the capo between frets one and two."
Dan strummed the chords and then used his tried and true picking pattern. He began to sing and was soon lost in the music. He was gaining confidence. Mike picked up Dan's guitar and added a few grace notes on top of Dan's. The symbiosis was complete; they performed as a single organism. Dan felt as though he was transported to another planet, one where all was harmony.
A knock at the door brought Dan back to reality. They abruptly stopped playing. The perky receptionist poked her head in. "Shall I lock up?" she asked.
"Yes, please," said Mike. " Were there any calls from Lightner?"
"Yes, they said to go ahead with the change order. They're e-mailing you the details."
"Good," said Mike with obvious relief. "That should keep us busy for months! Ok, I'll see you tomorrow."
The perky receptionist withdrew. Dan looked out the window. It was now dark.
"Mike, I'm sorry to keep you so long. You've been wonderful! I should let you get back to work."
"Dan, don't worry about it. I'll get to the Lightner account tomorrow. And I really enjoyed the diversion. Sort of one musician to another, you know."
Dan didn't feel like a musician. He felt like a benched soccer player. He reluctantly packed his guitar away. Mike grabbed the lyrics before Dan could shove them in the guitar case.
"Let me make a copy. If I have any ideas, I'll let you know when we next meet."
"Uh, thank you. I'll get those strings on the way home."
"Let them stretch for a day or so before you get frustrated, ok? You'll love the difference. Get these." He showed Dan a pack of strings that were in his drawer. "You'll like ‘em and they won't be too hard on your fingers. Oh, and you should practice every day to build up some calluses. Your fingers are red."
Dan looked at his left hand. Indeed, the fingers were throbbing and raw. "Ok," he replied. "Oh, I guess I should say hello to my dad before I leave."
"Dan, your father arranged to be gone this afternoon. He didn't want you to feel awkward."
"Oh."
Mike smiled cautiously. "I know I'm stepping into sensitive stuff, but Ed talks about you a lot. He loves you but doesn't know how to say it. I think he's trying to avoid any awkwardness right now." Mike put the lyrics into the copy machine.
Dan scratched his head. "Then why is he going to sue to get me to live with him?"
"Sue? Ed's not going to sue. Who told you that?"
Dan thought of the meeting in the bishop's office. "Oh, let's not say. Someone close to me."
Mike let out a breath. "Well, whoever it was greatly misunderstood. You're dad's trying to give you lots of space."
Dan thought for a moment. He took the lyrics from Mike and put them in his guitar case. He snapped it shut. He put on his jacket and stood to go.
"Tell my dad I appreciate it, ok?"
Mike just smiled. He offered his handshake, which Dan accepted.
Mike accompanied him to the front door and unlocked it for Dan. As Dan went out, Mike put his hand on Dan's shoulder. Dan turned to face him.
"Dan, hang in there. Send me an e-mail when you next want to meet. I look forward to hearing this at PPP!"
"Thanks, Mike. This is very cool."
"Good night."
Dan stepped into the empty hallway. He heard the door being locked behind him. He pressed the button for the elevator and descended to the first floor. He again swung the guitar up to make it through the revolving door. The wind hit him in the face as he turned toward the mountains and back to his car. The temperature had gone down with the sun.
Back in the real world again, he thought.