A Form of Constancy

Eli Lewis was breaking curfew—again—after he had been grounded, no less. 

Grounded was a ridiculous word to describe the house arrest that Brody was enforcing, but Eli had shrugged it off. His father had once tried to set a “curfew” back in the day—and forgotten about it the next day.

It would be pushing his luck, though, to imagine that Jack Brody was as forgetful as Nicholas Lewis, so Eli was quiet. 

He had experience being as quiet as the grave—you learned quickly that treading softly in the northern wharves at night could keep you alive. 

A chair in the living room scraped, and Eli paused by the window he had just climbed through. The hallway he stood in was dark, as was the kitchen attached to it—but the path to his bedroom led straight through the well-lit living room. Shit. 

“Why are you fighting this battle?” It wasn’t Jack’s voice he caught first. It was Anders, Liza’s former partner who had been transferred to forensics. “Maybe the kid doesn’t want to change. You know as well as I do what a lost cause looks like.”

“Yes, I do,” Jack said, and Eli froze. “And this kid isn’t one.”

“You know he”—

“I know that too many people act like this kid is some chore or some charity project,” Jack cut him off, and Eli could almost envision the man’s irritable look. “He’s not. He’s a good kid, Anders. He’s got brains and talent and”—

“He’s not some golden boy,” Anders interjected. “For god’s sake, he’s been caught selling for the Minotaur. He can’t be that smart.”

“I didn’t say he was perfect,” Jack retorted. “But he’s got a good heart, even if his head isn’t always screwed on straight.”

Eli drew himself up to his full height, not sure if he should feel insulted at that last gruff comment or grateful that Jack was sticking up for him.

Anders sigh sounded almost like a hiss. “But you have to know what this looks like on you, don’t you? A cop’s kid sells drugs and runs around with pickpockets and hackers and the daughter of some diseased whore?”

Eli nearly knocked over the small front hall table, but thankfully Jack moved across the room at the same moment.

“If you ever talk about the girl and her mom like that again,” Jack said, his voice a deadly, dangerous quiet that Eli was all too familiar with. “I will ask you to leave my house and never come back.”

A long silence followed, and Eli barely breathed.

“Fine,” Anders said finally, resignation thick in his tone. “I’m sorry. Jack, you know I’m only saying all of this because I’m worried about you. Just—promise me you’ll think about what I’ve said.”

“I appreciate the concern,” Jack said coolly.

“So you’ll consider it, then? You’ll consider finding a different foster home for the kid?”

“I’ve already considered it,” Jack said, and Eli felt sick suddenly.

He shouldn’t—he shouldn’t feel fear gripping his gut in a vise, shouldn’t be so surprised, because he’d known, hadn’t he? He had even told Jack I can make you walk away. It had just been a matter of time—

“And I made my choice a long time ago,” Jack continued. “This kid has had enough people walk out of his life when he needs them most. I’m not going to be one of them.”

Eli did knock over the table this time, and then immediately tripped over the fallen table.  

Half a second later, Jack threw open the door to the hall, one hand resting lightly on his weapon. He relaxed slightly when he say Eli, though his expression did not soften as he stretched out a hand to help him to his feet.

“Goodnight Anders,” Jack called without turning to his friend. “Thank you for coming.”

Anders sighed heavily, downed the rest of his beer, and nodded coldly at Eli before leaving.

Jack locked the door behind Anders, and then turned back to Eli, his eyebrows raised. “So how about you tell me where the hell you—kid, are you okay?”

Eli rubbed the back of his arm roughly across his face. “I’m fine,” he said, embarrassment sharpening his tone.

“Are you hurt?” Jack looked down at him sharply. “Were you down at the wharves?”

“No, I’m not hurt,” Eli said gruffly, embarrassed that tears were still stinging his eyes. “And—yes. I was down at the wharves.”

Disappointment flashed in Jack’s eyes and settled like a weight on Eli’s shoulders.

“I—I heard what you said to Anders,” Eli said finally, pointedly avoiding Jack’s gaze. “Just now.”

Understanding softened Jack’s face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Anders shouldn’t have said what he did.”

“I don’t care about Anders,” Eli said honestly. “I just—I didn’t expect you to say what you said. And I’m sorry that—that I’m fucking up your life, too. Before—when I would sell for the Minotaur—it was just my life that I was fucking up—and I—I guess I didn’t think”—

“Hey.” Jack held up a hand to stop Eli’s stammering words. “I don’t need an apology, kid. You’re not fucking my life up, and I don’t want you to listen to what Anders or anyone else says, you got me?”

Eli nodded finally, his eyes on the carpet. 

“But I need you to listen to me,” Jack continued firmly, and Eli dragged his eyes up to meet Jack’s. “Everything you’ve been doing—skipping school, lying to me, selling for the Minotaur—you’re right. That’s your life you’re fucking up, and I can do whatever I can to fight for you—ground you or try to keep you home and away from the wharves—but none of it’s going to work. Not if you don’t wake up and realize that you have to fight for yourself. And you have to realize that you’re worth it.”

Eli opened his mouth and then shut it again, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes again.

“Were you selling another stash tonight?” Jack asked quietly, and Eli wanted—wanted so badly—to open his mouth and say no.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Jack sighed heavily. “You need to get to bed, kid,” he said finally. “We’ll finish this conversation in the morning.”

Eli nodded again, his shoulders curving as if they were held down by weights.

Just before he closed his bedroom door, he saw Jack drop into a chair in the living room, his head in his hands.

Eli took a deep breath, looked at the duffel bag peeking out from under his bed, and then made a decision.

A few seconds later, he reappeared in the living room.

Jack looked up questioningly.

Eli set down three different packages and an envelope.

“That’s all of it,” he said. “Everything I’m supposed to sell. And the envelope has the number of my next contact to get resupplied. I haven’t looked at it yet.”

Jack stared at him for one impossibly long minute, and then nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, kid,” he said softly, and when Eli nodded awkwardly and turned to go, Jack pulled him into a brief hug.

“Does that mean I’m not grounded anymore?” Eli asked, and Jack laughed, releasing him.

“It means you should be glad I didn’t ground your ass for another week for sneaking out again tonight,” Jack said, cuffing his shoulder. “Now get to bed.”

For the first time since he had moved in with Jack, Eli didn’t argue. Instead, he fell asleep with an empty duffel bag and the sounds of home—Jack’s creaking door, the dishwasher’s low hum, and the wind outside that Eli could have sworn was whispering to him tonight: Still here, kid. Still here. 

Cast of Characters

Meet Eli Lewis.

What do I know about him so far? 

Well, I know a little bit about his family. He lost his mother and older brother to a car accident a few years ago, and his wealthy father, always distant, ran farther than ever. Eli keeps busy by selling for the Minotaur, a dealer whose face he has never seen, but is known as the ruthless leader of Boston's biggest drug cartel. One day, however, his father skips the country, leaving behind bankruptcy, fraud, and Eli, who has never been more alone. 

Enter Jack Brody. 

A divorced detective who has lost enough to last a life time. He knows Eli from the boy's multiple encounters with the law, so when Eli is left destitute, Jack impulsively decides to take him in. 

This doesn't sit well with Liza Tilmore, another detective--Jack's partner--who also happens to be Jack's ex-wife. 

Liza has no time for the 16 year old's BS, just as she has no time for Jack's. However, keeping Eli and Jack safe in the Minotaur's city quickly becomes a full-time job, and Detective Tilmore comes to realize she cannot do it alone. 

Enter Tess, the only one still allowed to call Eli "Pip." 

She's known Eli all his life, though her life has not been as privileged or as comfortable as his. She grew up with a single mother who worked as a stripper to make ends meet, and she, too, lost an older brother--though her loss was to a shooting by a policeman, and her brother was not a rich playboy but a seller trying to help their mother make ends meet. There is only one cop she has ever trusted--and that cop is working undercover in an attempt to find out who the Minotaur really is. 

Elias has worked undercover for three years. 

Her success has been meager, but the captain is confident that she is the only one who can crack the drug cartel and expose the Minotaur--if they can ever find out who exactly this Minotaur is. 

Rhea, however, is the first of them to die. 

She is Elias' girlfriend, uninvolved in the cartel. She teaches kindergarten in urban Boston, and comes home at night to patch Elias up. But somehow, she knows too much--not about Elias, but about the Minotaur, who will do anything it takes to keep their secrets buried. 

War has many casualties--and Dray is the second, after an accidental discovery leaves her vulnerable.

Dray is also a high school sophomore, until the day when she walks in on something that no one was supposed to witness. Secrets pile up, and one day they find Dray's body, which is ruled a suicide until her best friend uncovers evidence of something more. 

Astor has known Eli, Tess, and Dray since they were all very young, and she is the most devastated by Dray's loss. 

Like Tess, Astor grew up near the wharves with a single mother who worked at the same club as Tess' mother did. Astor has dated both Eli and Tess, something which has always been a point of contention in the close-knit group. Despite the fact that one of her friends (Eli) sells for the cartel, Astor remains the most innocent of the group, experimenting occasionally with marijuana but avoiding the harder drugs that Eli sells. 

Aron, Tess' twin brother, is Astor's polar opposite in that department, however. 

Tess angrily tells Eli to stop selling to her brother, but Eli points out to her that he will just buy street mixtures of the same drugs--mixtures that could potentially be much more dangerous. It is Aron, however, who sees more clearly than the rest in the matters of the heart--and, tragically, in the matter of the Minotaur. 

And so, the final question--who is the Minotaur? 

No, I'm not going to introduce a different face. You've already seen the face of the Minotaur. Look up. Re-read this list. And see if you can guess--where Eli and the rest fail--which of them is this "unnatural offspring of a woman and a beast, with no natural source of nourishment, who thus devours man for sustenance."

Nihil Remanet

"Still here?" Eli said roughly, pointedly avoiding Jack's gaze.

Jack said nothing as he got slowly to his feet.

"Why?" the boy blurted suddenly, his voice with sharp with confusion and disbelief.

When Brody looked at him, the boy was staring fixedly at the groud, his fists clenched the way they had been all morning.

"I don't know what it's going to take to convince you of this," Jack began slowly. "But I'm not going anywhere."

"You should," Eli shot back roughly. "You're a cop. And I'm a"-- he broke off, his mouth twisting in disgust as if he could not find a word ugly enough to describe himself. "You'll walk away," he said finally, confidence surging in his voice again. "I know you will. You'll walk away when you know what I've done. I can make you leave."

"You can stop being dramatic," Jack said gruffly. "I'm not going anywhere, and you're still grounded. So come on. We're going home."

"You don't know what I did."

"I know you were caught selling again," Jack said impatiently. "We'll talk about that when we get home."

"I stole from the evidence room," Eli said. "And I bribed my teacher like I would always do before I lived with you. But I gave her the bribe money first. Before the sale."

"So?" Jack looked down at the boy, who suddenly looked pale--death pale, white all the way to his lips.

"I stole the money I used for the bribe," Eli said desperately. "I stole it from you." He was no longer staring at the ground--instead, he was staring wildly up at Jack, waiting for the betrayal to sink in.

Jack Brody stood silent for a long moment, and then reached a hand out toward the boy.

Eli flinched automatically--Jack felt a brief surge of anger towards the boy's father at the memory of the scars he had left on the kid--but relaxed slightly when Jack merely placed his hand on Eli's shoulder.

"Still here, kid," Jack said quietly. "Still here."

A Few Resources

If you had a rescue story to write, where would you start?

Apparently I start with minotaurs, a weathered cop, and the city of Boston.

I mean, this is not a mythology or a fantasy story. But make no mistake, the best kind of rescue stories have monsters in them, if not always the kind we would think.

Okay.

I'm about to make the dive.