October, 1977

Kermit Griffin crunched the Autumn leaves under his feet as he trudged across the college campus. The place was crawling with students, babbling and hustling between buildings. It was hard for him to remember ever being that young. When he was that age, he'd been digging around in the jungle, trying to stay alive while an entire country tried to blow his head off.

Pulling a slip of paper from his pocket, he checked the address. "This must be the place," he confirmed to himself. Campus housing. It all looked the same... square and nondescript. Even so, you could see touches of personality on the balconies of the tiny apartments. Even if he hadn't known the apartment number, Kermit could have found the place in an instant. Bright floral wreath hung on the door. Frilly curtains in the window. Marilyn's touch.

Straightening his coat, he rapped on the door. Marilyn pulled it open and froze at the sight of him. "You really should ask who it is before you open the door, Marilyn."
The greeting he expected didn't materialize.
"WHERE IN THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!!!!" she shouted into his face, tears forming from her anger.
He couldn't tell her where he'd been. It didn't really matter anyway.

"I'm here now. If you'll stop ranting like a five-year-old, I'll come in and you can tell me what the problem is."

It didn't matter that she was a grown, married woman. When Kermit used 'that' tone, she immediately acknowledged his authority -- not willingly, but out of habit. She stepped back and he walked inside.

The apartment felt homey and warm. Kermit surveyed the surroundings and was pleased. They were broke, sure. All students, especially the married students were broke, but Marilyn had made her first home her own using an odd combination of thrift shop finds and antiques saved from her parents' home.

They sat down, side by side, on the sofa.

"Where's Rob?" Kermit's brother-in-law was a struggling law student. A bright, outgoing guy who got on Kermit's nerves the first time they met. He was just TOO outgoing, but he was a good, decent young man and he was crazy about Marilyn. That was good enough for Kermit.

"In class, then he goes to work at the library tonight."

"You gonna spill it? I got your message that you needed me. Said it was urgent." Kermit watched her twisting the edge of her sweater. Whatever it was, she seemed truly upset.

"I left that message at that damn number a month ago."

"I was out of the country."

"It's David. He's run away and we can't find him." Her panic was evident. David, their younger brother, was fifteen. The streets were no place for a kid that age.

"Shit! What has Aunt Helen done about it? Called the police? What?" Now, Kermit was kicked automatically into big brother mode.

Hearing the growing panic in her brother's voice, Marilyn softened her anger at his absence. She knew about his troubles, the ghosts he lived with and tried to hide from her and David. This would only add to the list. "Kermit...Aunt Helen doesn't care anymore about David than she did me. We were the 'poor orphaned relatives' that she was doing this great favor for by taking us in." She immediately regretted inspiring the cloud those words painted over Kermit's expression.

Anger started creeping into his thoughts. Kermit knew that his sister was right. They'd had no choice. Marilyn and David had been underage when they had lost their mother. Their father had been dead for years. Kermit had been unable to provide the home they needed. His mother's sister had been the only option. Aunt Helen had never physically hurt her niece and nephew but she had made it clear that she was inconvenienced. She never made them feel like anything but impositions on her hospitality. Not loved. Not wanted.

Kermit had tried to ease things with money. He had sent every dime he could get his hands on to make up for his absence with material things. The money would go to Marilyn and she'd dole it out between her and David. Once Marilyn had turned eighteen, she had stopped accepting his money. "Send it all to David," she had told him in no uncertain terms. She had wanted to make it on her own. She wouldn't even let him help with college. If she had known the secret deal he'd worked with the registrar's office to mysteriously cut her tuition bills, she'd be furious.

Kermit snapped from his regret as Marilyn pulled away and walked over to her desk. Coming back to her brother, she stood before him and opened her hand. "He was...he'd been so unhappy, Kermit. But then...he was always unhappy...."

Marilyn sniffed as she saw Kermit's jaw harden. She hadn't wanted to tell him that. She knew he blamed himself for 'abandoning' them. But he had to know David's state of mind in order to help with the problem. He had a right to know. "He ran away and Aunt Helen found these in his room." A syringe and a bag of powdery residue rested in her palm. "David's an addict, Kermit." The tears ran down her face as she looked at the tools that David had chosen to destroy his life. She closed her eyes as Kermit stood up then pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders.

As he comforted her, he tried briefly to deny the evidence in front of him. David was a good, bright kid. But that didn't seem to be much protection from this particular demon. He'd seen it chew up lots of bright promising kids in Vietnam.

"Rob and I wanted to have him move here with us but they only allow parents and their children to live here. We'd get kicked out of family housing if he came to live with us because he's not our son, just my brother. I'm sorry...I just didn't know how to help him. He was already out of control before I realized that something like this was going on. Aunt Helen doesn't care. She filed a police report and forgot about it." The guilt spread all over her face. "You left me in charge and.....and....I blew it!"

Pulling her back, he took control. "Look, this isn't your fault. Do you have ANY idea where he might be?"

"There's a part of town where a lot of runaways hide out. Rob and I have been down there but haven't had any luck. He didn't have much money and if he's blowing it all on...well, he couldn't have gone far. It's really rough down there, Kermit. Anything could happen to him."

Now, he had a mission, a goal to work toward. "Try not to worry and you ARE NOT to go looking for him again. If he's there, I'll get him." He got up and went to find his brother.

~~~

An hour later, Kermit was surveying the wreck that dared to call itself a neighborhood. It didn't matter what part of the world he found himself in, these places were all the same. Dingy buildings, neon, graffiti... concrete playgrounds where throwaway children huddled together against the world. It could have been Saigon or Berlin or Miami. All the same.

Kermit Griffin drove carefully amid the stop-and-go traffic, scanning the street people for his younger brother. There were endless streams of gaunt faces to be considered. Some were painfully younger than David's tender fifteen. The children blended in with the hardened older inhabitants milling up and down the street.

Rolling down the window of the dark blue Cutlass Supreme he had rented, Kermit pulled up to a curb. Immediately, he was set upon by three glitteringly-adorned ladies of the night.

"Hey, Daddy," oozed one long-legged blonde as she leaned over her prospective customer, "that's an awfully nice car. Bet it's nice and warm in there. How 'bout some company?" Pulling back the short fake fur jacket she wore, the young woman displayed an outfit brief enough to court a chest cold in the chilled night air.

"Oh no, Mister Big!" giggled another as she butted her competition out of the way. "Why settle for beginners when you can have an arteeeeeest! You lookin' for a date to fog up the green glasses?" Her short, chain mail halter top swayed back and forth, showing off far too much of her figure. Smacking gum and grinning, she waited for him to make an offer.

For a moment, Kermit took in the jaded faces leaning in the window. Beneath the makeup and vulgar clothing, they were children. Probably not much older than David. Somebody's daughters and little sisters willing to climb into a stranger's car and sacrifice themselves for a few dollars. When he drove away, there would be some sick bastard who would take them up on their offer.

But he wasn't here to save them.

Flashing the most recent picture of David that he could find, Kermit snapped out his request. "I'm looking for this boy. Have you seen him?"

"Oh, Daddy," the blonde licked her lips, "you'd like me much better than him. Why don't we just drive around the corner-"

"Have you seen him?" Kermit asked again, ignoring the implications.

The girls immediately shifted gears; young in years but aged in the warning signs of authority. "Call information, man!" Both backed away and headed to the other side of the street.

Kermit began cursing himself and parked the car on a side street. Unfolding from the front seat, he tightened the loose ends of his coat against the first chill of the Fall.

<"Zip that jacket, Squirt! If you come home with a cold, Mom won't let you come back and watch practice!">

For a moment, Kermit allowed himself a memory. One from long ago. David at six, tagging along behind him to watch football practice. <"Get 'im, Kermit!!" > Looking over just long enough to smile at his little brother had been just long enough to get creamed by a linebacker the size of a dump truck. He remembered looking up into the cold afternoon sky, seeing the linebacker who'd knocked the wind out of him offering a helping hand up -- and, seeing David attached to the boy's back in a furious attempt at revenge.

<"Don't you hit my brother!!!!" > David's little fists had mercilessly pounded the perceived bully.

<"Hey, Griff! Tell him it's okay!" > The older boy gently tried to pull David off his back.

<"Nobody hits my brother!!!">

Shaking the stars from his head, Kermit had gotten up and peeled the first-grade avenger from his friend's back. Laughing, he sat David down on the ground. <"Thanks for the hand, Squirt, but it's just a game. He's supposed to knock me down.">

David had reluctantly walked back to the bench, but not before leaving a threat to the mammoth linebacker. <"You watch it, man! Nobody hurts my brother!">

The vision of the protective scowl -- picture-perfect, identical to his own -- made him grin until the welcoming image of his little brother faded. His current situation reasserted itself in his mind as he faced a real six-year-old with his hand out. Dirty face and clothes. Without a word, Kermit dug into his pocket for money. The boy took it and ran. Kermit was left wondering if he'd done the right thing by shoving money into the child's hand and allowing him to disappear. <Too late now.>

He glanced down at the photo to replace the picture in his mind with the David that is, rather than the David of long ago.

He hadn't seen David since Marilyn's wedding a year ago. Even then, the boy wouldn't speak to him. The scorn had been solid as brick. Between David's wall of anger and Aunt Helen's sarcastic glare and whispers, Kermit had left early as not to spoil his sister's big day. He'd walked her down the aisle and backed away into his own life that had nothing to do with white lace and promises. Marilyn did her best to keep them connected. The pictures came from her.

The image of the sour boy with shaggy dark hair and big dark eyes in hand, the young man began his quest among the alcoves and cubbyholes that hid the throngs of lost youth littering the downtown doorways.

Looking up at the never-ending rows of buildings, he wondered how he would ever traverse a path to find one lone needle in this haystack. He had no theories but he did know one thing. He would find David. He wouldn't stop until he succeeded. David's life depended on it.

He passed the 'ladies' he had met before. He was no less foreboding than he was inside the vehicle - the ladies hastily stepped a cautious step away from him, toward the wall, giving him room. He rounded the corner and steeled himself immediately as a glint of light caught his peripheral vision.

<Don't kill. > Kermit thought quickly, hoping the mantra would control the monster in him born in Vietnam. <Don't kill....>

The owner of the blade stepped up into his face. Stinking breath, scalp with more oil than hair follicles, a greasy mustache and loud, obnoxious clothes blocked the sidewalk. Kermit soaked in his amusement to try to staunch the killer inside him. <They could see him in Cleveland!>

"Ya gotta problem wid my goils," he blustered in Kermit's face, saliva spattering. "Ya talk ta me; I set 'em awright. Ain'cha pickin' one uf um?"

<And I thought Vietnamese was hard.> Kermit spared him a warning glance, which did little good, since his gaze was unseen, thanks to the dark glasses.
The greasy fat man poked him in the shoulder. A voice called to the killer inside Kermit Griffin. He tried not to listen.

"'Ey, man, I'se talkin' ta ya....Ya eiter pick one o' my goils or git outta my space. I mean what I'se tellin'...." The man unknowingly courted death as he waved his meticulously sharpened blade

Kermit looked at the blade. As before, it only took seconds. One hand around the man's throat, cutting off air. The another hand gripped the man's wrist, slammed it against his own kneecap, and smashed the blade to the ground. Pounding the fat body against the wall, Kermit enjoyed the sound of the man's greasy head cracking against the bricked building. A knee to the belly. A kick to the knee. Over and over, he vented his pent up fury on the pimp's body.

Something caught the killer's eye, a picture that had fallen to the ground. The images reared up inside his brain and made way for the man that was. That man slowly blinked to regain his lost senses, eased up on his death-grip of the now-sobbing behemoth and retrieved the picture. Sticking the picture in the man's face, while trying to avoid the man's spittle and tears, the mercenary asked, "Have you seen this boy?"

Staring at the picture through swollen eyes, the quivering victim stammered, "N-n-no...man...I didn't....Pleazzzze don't kill me...."

Kermit shook himself free in disgust, unable to believe that he'd gotten this man's filth on himself. He couldn't afford to lose himself again. What if David was nearby, watching the whole thing?? It would probably be the added straw that David needed to completely destroy the rest of his life.

Kermit backed away into the growing darkness of evening, heading north to the inner-city of 'trashtown' where he knew David could be found. But he'd had no more luck with the fifth hour than he had during the first. It was just too damn BIG. Block after block of the same thing, the same addiction and desolation. Kermit quashed the realization that he too might belong here as he continued the search.

He kept at it until he could no longer stand for more than a minute at a time. When the image of David that he carried in his head began to project itself on the faces of strangers, he knew it was time to stop.

He climbed painfully into his car and drove mindlessly to his sister's house. Thank God for the memory lessons Blaisdell had drilled into him. Somehow, his brain switched to automatic pilot to make the drive to his sister's apartment.

Upon arrival, he was greeted by the faint sounds of life. Through the slightly open front door, he could see that the lights were still on and he could hear "Rumours" playing on the stereo he'd sent Marilyn for her birthday. Time was a relative concept for college students and it was no surprise to find his brother-in-law buried in case studies for his massive law school workload.

Kermit tapped lightly on the door to get the boy's attention.

"Hey, man," Rob flipped his book closed with one hand and waved his wife's brother in with the other, "come on in." Rising to his full height of 6"2', the young man stretched and gulped another sip from his coffee cup. Taking in the sober and haggard appearance of his guest, Rob looked down at his watch. "Damn! It's three a.m.! You've been out there looking all this time? Sit down."

Kermit accepted the invitation and sank down onto the thrift-chic sofa, silently watching Rob fumble for another cup suitable for company. It had been a year since he'd laid eyes on him but Rob reacted as if he'd only been away for a few hours. His easy manner made him a good match for the highly emotional Marilyn, an anchor Kermit knew she needed.

Rob tactfully turned up the heat and handed him a cup. Folding down onto the coffee table, Rob kept his voice low. "Mare's asleep. I take it you didn't find him."

"No." He thought it would be easy. The skills he had enabled him to search and destroy, to track far more formidable prey than one fifteen-year-old boy. Once again, his arrogance had given birth to another failure. "I covered every inch and no one would admit to seeing him."

Rob understood the defeat. "He is there, you know." Rob ran a hand through his hair in frustration. His own searches had been equally futile. "You can tell by the looks on the other kids' faces when they tell you to fuck off and die."

Kermit had heard the same mantra far too often that evening. "Yes, I know." He wanted to shake each one and make them tell, but the commotion from the huddled crowds of runaways might have frightened David away if he was close by.

"I thought I saw him once last week," Rob explained in an apologetic tone. "Chased this kid through fifty alleyways." The young man rubbed the back of his head at the memory. "Would have caught him if one of his buddies hadn't hit me over the head and cleaned out my pockets."

Peering over the top of his shades, Kermit gave him a concerned once-over. "You were lucky, kid. Don't go back down there."

"I had to do it for Marilyn. She's been makin' herself sick and I was afraid she'd go down there again herself." Lowering his voice considerably, Rob whispered, "I didn't tell her about gettin' mugged. They only got ten bucks but she'd be even more upset."

The tender way Rob took care of Marilyn was a comfort. She was in good hands, clean hands. He couldn't think about the hands that might be controlling his brother; the hands of some pusher; the hands of some sick vermin praying on confused children. <Stop! This isn't helping! > He shook the dread away.

"I have another idea I'll try tomorrow." Kermit drained the fairly decent coffee and got up to return to his hotel. "Tell Marilyn I'll see her in the morning."

Having more to say, Rob followed the four steps it took to cross the tiny apartment. <Kermit needs to know about the other injured party.> "That bitch Helen really unloaded on Marilyn. She told her that she'd known you were all defective from the start. She told Marilyn that SHE had coddled David and excused his bad attitude and if anyone should
feel guilty, it's Marilyn. Broke her heart, Kermit, because she believes it." Rob stepped back as his words took a physical hold on his brother-in-law.

Back stiffened with fury at the indiscriminate cruelty he'd left his younger siblings to languish under, Kermit turned back to face the young man. "That's crazy! We all know whose fault it is. The one who left both of them to live with 'that bitch.'" Turning briskly, wrapped in the warmth of his culpability, the mercenary disappeared into the chilled night air, leaving a saddened Rob Manse to watch him go.

"That's not what I meant, man," Rob whispered after him and quietly closed the door.

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