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Hilltop

WARNING: This story contains language that is considered very offensive.

Reader discretion is advised.

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Prologue:

2011:

Southwest Columbus was dominated by the Hilltop. Cut in half by Sullivant Avenue and hemmed in by highways, the Hilltop was the once working class suburb, largely left to its fate. It's labyrinth of narrow streets lay littered with trash, and tired, faded, run down homes filled whole neighborhoods. Sullivant Avenue had abandoned brick buildings galore, businesses from happier times all boarded up. A convenience store with iron clad windows sat across to a burned out movie theatre with broken neon signs and weathered plywood on the windows and doors. A used tire depot sat next to a burned out buildings, its brown bricks charred black. A police cruiser sat on patrol, watching traffic at a gas station. At the corner, a panhandler stood with his tattered clothes and cardboard sign, his twitching face bearing the signs of drug abuse. Faintly, off in the distance, the sound of gunfire crackled. Soon the cruiser took off, its light bar glowing and sirens blaring.

Once a nice neighborhood in its heyday, the Hilltop was the victim of Ohio's deindustrialization, starting in the 1970's. Honest blue color jobs dried up; factories closed and businesses went overseas. Demographics changed, people moved away to better climes, and soon the crime wave came roaring on in like a tidal wave. Poverty took over, home values fell apart, homes literally fell apart. The litter, the violence, the drugs, prostitution, turned the suburb into a cesspit on the west side.

On a hot, sticky, August afternoon, a van screeched away down a narrow alley. The beat up Chrysler groaned around a sharp turn, its tires chirping and squealing back onto Sullivant. Lying in the middle of the alleyway, by some trash cans was the body of a teenage boy, a young gray wolf, lying in a pool of blood. Seven bullet holes were torn through his blood soaked shirt. He was the victim of a gunman inside the van that had pulled up on him. A bunch of young children, hiding from the gunfire, slowly approached from their hiding spots. A couple young wolves, a Rottweiler, and a Doberman-mix cautiously approached.

"Oh no..." muttered a tan and beige wolf. "Mike's dead."

"Wow." The young Rottweiler said in shock. "They blew Mike away."

"Shakar, may we should help him?" the Doberman asked.

"Help? Alvin, he's dead!" Shakar pointed. "Look at all that blood! He was shot and killed!"

"No hope..." the tan wolf shook his head.

"Fredward, we have to do-"

"ALVIN!" Shakar yelled. He grabbed his cousin and stopped him. "Don't you go near him! They'll think you killed him!"

"I don't have a gun!"

"DON'T!" Shakar yelled, pulling him back.

"HEY! YOU KIDS GET OUTTA HERE!" shouted a cop. He quickly radioed for backup as he ran past them. "Go back home kids! Don't see this! Get outta here!"

"C'mon, let's go." Fredward motioned. He picked up his basketball and turned around with their friends.

Walking down the alley, Alvin, Shakar, and Fredward said goodbye to their other friends who went on home. The trio walked back towards Sullivant Avenue. "Wow, I can't believe that all happened in front of us." Alvin said to his friends. All three of them were seven years old, the young kids talking about the shock of watching someone they knew get killed.

"This neighborhood sucks." Fredward said, dribbling his basketball. "One of these days, that's gonna be us."

"Naw, don't say that." Shakar shook his head. "Mike's running around with the wrong gang and got shot!"

"Alvin! Shakar!" yelled Sydney Marquee, Alvin's mother, and Shakar's aunt. Sydney was a chubby Rottweiler in her late twenties, wearing a snug fitting tanktop and yoga pants. She had a short crop of black hair atop her head. Beside her stood Fredward's mother, Kayla Montock. She was a gray wolf with light brown hair, in her early twenties. "Freddy!"

All three kids ran up to see their parents, who quickly took them back home.

"Oh my god, I thought you kids were gonna get shot!" Sydney explained to Alvin and Shakar. "Let's go home."

"See you later Fredward!" Alvin waved.

"See ya!" the wolf waved.

Sydney held Alvin and Shakar's paw as they walked home down Sullivant. Alvin and Shakar shared a big green house off Sullivant, complete with a front porch that overlooked the street on a small hill. Alvin lived with his mother and unmarried grandparents, Mary Marquee and Darius Mosser. Shakar lived with his dad, Tyrone.

The home was hot and sticky, and box fans ran at full blast in the windows to keep air moving. The TV blared, as Darius sat on the couch watching it. Everything inside the house looked unkempt and run down. Peeling wallpaper with a floral pattern graced the grimy walls.

"Mama I got the kids! They're alright!" Sydney shouted for her mom, who was in the kitchen.

"SYDNEY!" screamed Mary. "What the fuck is this? What's this shit about a mistake on the welfare!?"

Emerging from the kitchen entrance was Mary. She was a chubby Rottweiler in her early forties, with short black hair. She looked visibly angered at the mail in her grip, informing her that her welfare would be cut off over a mistake Sydney had made in filing it. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT! YOU FUCKED IT ALL UP!"

"Mama! I can fix it!" Sydney exclaimed.

"And who the fuck cares about the kids!" Mary pointed. "They'll be alright!"

"Someone got shot!"

"Who the fuck cares!" Mary shouted. "Who cares if another motherfucker got shot in the Hilltop!" Mary threw the paperwork into the air. "YOU ARE FIXING YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN' FUCKUP! GET YO ASS TO THE WELFARE!"

"Stop yelling at me!" Sydney snapped.

Alvin slinked back some, looking sad at all the screaming going on. He stood behind his mom. Mary noticed Alvin's meekness.

"And what the fuck is wrong with your wimpy ass, pathetic son!" Mary shouted. "Actin' like a fuckin' pussy over here being scared over some fucking yelling! Alvin, come here!"

Alvin shook his head no.

"ALVIN! HERE!" Mary screamed.

"Mama! Leave him alone!"

"FUCK YOU SYDNEY! Bringin' this... fucking little mongrel into the world when I told you to abort his motherfuckin' ass! This motherfuckin' ass that's a waste on MY FUCKIN' WELFARE THAT YOU FUCKING FUCKED UP! What the fuck's yo problem, Alvin? You fuckin' little pussy! You fuckin' little mixed-breed MOTHERFUCKER YOU!"

Mary grabbed a glass ash tray and hurled it at Alvin, which struck him in the forehead. It hit so hard that it bounced off his head and shattered against the wall. Alvin fell to the ground crying.

"CRY ABOUT THAT YOU UGLY DUMBASS FUCKIN' BITCH!" Mary screamed. She marched over, and shoved Sydney into the loveseat. "FIX THE FUCKIN' WELFARE!"

Shakar stood with a stoic expression on his face, watching his grandmother be abusive as always.

"Why can't your fuckin' little maggot of a son be like Shakar here! A real Marquee! Bein' tough and handle this shit like a real nigga!" Mary pointed. "Stop fucking cryin' Alvin! You lil' bitch!"

Sydney glared at her mother. "Come on Alvin..."

"Get yo' ass to the welfare now!" Mary pointed. "GET OUT!"

"Fuck you, Mom!" Sydney screamed. She turned around with Alvin as they made their way to the front door. Looking incensed, Mary grabbed a flower pot that held a dead plant, and threw it at Sydney, which smashed against her head and shattered. Sydney practically fell onto the porch as Alvin caught her.

"You ruined my fucking life! You had that fuckin' baby, and now your dumbass is getting the welfare taken away! Fuck you!" Mary screamed.

Getting up and grabbing Alvin's paw, Sydney and Alvin walked back onto Sullivant Avenue, to head to the bus stop.

---

Hilltop

Ten Years Later:

The afternoon sun filtered through a broken sheet of plywood, futilely protecting a shattered window of an abandoned apartment. Dust that wavered in the air revealed the soft white rays of light, which fell upon a faded rug that sat on the dust strewn floor. The silent ambience of the abandoned apartment was captured through the lens of Alvin's Betacam, which sat rolling on its tripod. A once happy apartment now sat dilapidated, its walls slowly crumbling, revealing the studs beneath. Condemned by violence and drugs, the building was left to fallow, and slowly crumble to its fate, just like the rest of the Hilltop.

Seventeen year old Alvin Paulo was a lanky black and tan Doberman, mixed with some Rottweiler in him. With curly black hair hidden beneath a backwards turned baseball cap, he stood wearing black gym shorts and a red and blue tanktop, complete with black and white sneakers. Counting the time on his watch, Alvin walked over, knelt down and watched the viewfinder as he hit pause. The pop-click of his bolted on Beta SP deck, signaled the stop. Repositioning his camera, a 1980's Sony BVP-3A, he took aim at a different angle. The bright highlight stuck in the camera's Saticon tubes, giving a momentary ghost image as the bright light filtering through comet-tailed a silvery white. Alvin got a low angle shot of a dangling old light fixture, broken and dangling from the ceiling, the background blurred into a nice bokeh.

Footsteps echoed and the building creaked. Alvin turned around to see his best friend Spencer enter the room. Spencer Eikemo, a sixteen year old husky, who had light gray and white fur, with yellow blonde hair, carried Alvin's other BVP-3A. "Wanna finish up here... this place is really hot... and it smells~"

"One sec!" Alvin responded. He quickly powered off his camera and unbolted it from its tripod boot. Grabbing his gear, the two entered the long hallway, where a police officer stood guard for them. Going to another apartment, where a window was open, the two set up their cameras to get the last shot, which overlooked the Hilltop. There was a gentle breeze through the window, which took away some of the mustiness of stagnant air. It was a very hot, mid-July day. Setting his camera up, and letting the tubes warm back up, Alvin hit record and let it run, capturing a wide angle shot of his old childhood neighborhood.

"The more things change, Spence? The more they stay the same..." chuckled Alvin as he and Spencer stood watching the scenery. A couple stories below, traffic flowed on Sullivant Avenue. "Just as run down as before."

"This reminds me of where I grew up on the east side of Newark." The husky nodded.

"Heh, I think that's an upgrade!" laughed Alvin. "The 'ole Hilltop... where I spent the first nine years of my life."

Alvin found it hard to believe that it was almost a decade since he had left the Hilltop. The son of a prostitute and her criminal, troublemaking family, the Marquees, and a deadbeat Dad of Brazilian background, nine year old Alvin was taken away from his mother and sent to live with his Dad, who equally could not take care of him. Thus it fell upon his Uncle Joey Paulo, and his husband, Rob Barion, to raise him as their own. In the eight years since he had left, he had grown and become a teenager, with big plans to do something with his life. He was learning how to fly a plane, and was becoming gifted with a camera. He wanted to follow in the footsteps of his uncles. In those eight years, he had also reconciled with his father Roberto, who lived in Akron, and now had a relationship with him. Things were looking up for the young Dober, who, despite some occasional bouts of depression brought on by the global pandemic, remained the optimist.

Packing up their gear, Alvin and Spencer left the creaky, stale old building with their police escort. Going outside into the bright sun, Spencer recorded the final shot, of a city worker boarding the abandoned apartment complex back up. Like the inside, the grounds of the old apartment was nothing but an eyesore. Litter covered the ground with other refuse and busted appliances. Soon the building would be demolished, as Columbus attempted to gentrify and restore the blight. Thanking the police officer and city worker, Alvin and Spencer climbed aboard Alvin's SUV, five year old silver Tahoe. They took off and turned onto Sullivant, to begin the hour long drive back to Newark.

"So this is for your senior capstone?" Spencer asked from his spot in the front seat.

"Yeah~ Getting a head start." Chuckled Alvin. "Every senior broadcast student has to create a capstone video project, and I'm gonna do a documentary on Hilltop's history!"

"Hey that's cool~" the husky nodded. "Hopefully we have school..."

"Yeah..." Alvin grimaced. "I have a feeling it's gonna be complicated..."

"Probably." Spencer shook his head. "Airborne virus, highly infectious, and schools are nasty enough as it is..."

"Another rollercoaster!" Alvin laughed sarcastically. "But we just have to deal with it.."

"Sadly." Spencer sighed. "At least I got my jab."

"Same here."

"I overcame a fear of needles, 'cause dying of Covid is just not an option!" Spencer exclaimed.

"Just eat horse dewormer or something."

"Or drink my own piss."

The husky and Dober looked at each other and laughed. "Oh shit, Alvin~"

"Ooop... and there you have it!" Alvin pointed at a police SUV blocking Sullivant Avenue. The whole road was closed off by multiple cruisers with their lights flashing. "Looks like another shooting."

"Oh what a surprise~"

Alvin put his turn signal on and made a left hand turn to head up Burgess Avenue, towards Broad Street. "Like I said... the more things change, the more they stay the same."

"Indeed~"

Hopping onto Broad Street, Route 40 took them out of Hilltop, and into the southern reaches of Franklinton. Alvin pulled into a Speedway and parked at a pump to fuel his SUV up for the drive home. Spencer stepped out and donned his blue mask to go inside to buy a drink, while Alvin shoved the fuel nozzle into the port and began topping his fuel tank up. Alvin leaned against his SUV and watched the money go away as he gassed up the Tahoe.

"Whacha doin' back in the Hilltop yo?"

Alvin nearly jumped when he suddenly saw his cousin, Shakar Marquee. Emerging around the back of his Tahoe, the burly Rottweiler practically towered over the lanky Doberman. Shakar wore baggy blue gym shorts and a white tanktop that clung to his well built frame. He had a backwards turned baseball cap like Alvin.

"Shakar...uhh... I wasn't expecting to see you."

"Wasn't expecting motherfucker?" laughed the Rott. "What are you doin' back in the Hilltop? I thought you livin' in Newark with yo rich ass uncle?"

Alvin looked intimidated by his cousin's presence. "I'm making a video."

"A video you say, on my turf?"

"Your turf?"

"Us Marquees own the Hilltop yo!"

"I don't think so!" Alvin explained.

"What the fuck happened to you Alvin? Don't you remember all the times we hung out and all the fun we had?"

"Things have changed."

"I can see that! You act all uptight, and look at you drivin' this nice ass SUV yo uncle bought you! You must think you're better than yo Hilltop roots!"

"No." Alvin glared. "C'mon leave me be Shakar."

"You're the one who returned."

"I didn't return to see you."

"Yo new family don't want us around."

"There's reasons. And if you haven't figured that shit out, then you're a damn fool, Shakar."

"I'm a damn fool? Well what does that say about you comin' back home to our turf? Who's a damn fool now!"

Alvin fumbled his brow in frustration. "What happened to you Shakar? You weren't like this a long time ago."

"Life happened." Shakar frowned. "Gotta survive or be eaten alive here..."

Alvin just shook his head in disappointment. He quickly stowed the fuel nozzle away and screwed the cap back on. He saw Spencer return with a drink, the Dober breathing a sigh of relief.

"I have to go."

"Don't you be comin' back to the hood unless you want problems!" Shakar warned. "Grandma and Grandpa want to see you..."

"Tell them I send my regards..." Alvin sarcastically quipped as he got back into his SUV with Spencer. They quickly took off while Shakar stood watching them leave. Alvin quickly got onto Broad Street and sped away for the I-270 exchange.

"Who was that?" Spencer asked.

"My cousin Shakar."

"Oh boy."

Hopping onto the outerbelt, Alvin merged into traffic and took the I-70 exchange to head east, beginning the forty-minute commute home.

---

Saying goodbye to Spencer, Alvin watched his best friend run back to his house next door and venture inside. Juggling his two Betacam suitcases, Alvin sat one down and locked his Tahoe. As he picked up the other suitcase, he took notice of Greenie, a green headed Mallard duck that his uncle had rescued. Greenie came waddling over from the little garden and pond and flapped his wings and quacked at Alvin, his usual greeting.

"Hi Greenie! Come on inside!" Alvin gestured as he walked up the two steps for the deck, with Greenie following behind. Alvin slid the glass door open, stepped in and closed it after Greenie. The young Dober saw his Uncle Joey preparing dinner in the kitchen. "Hey Uncle Joey!"

"Alvin! How was your outing?" Joey asked him with his usual smile on the Dober's face.

"Not bad. I got the shots I needed. I'm gonna go get cleaned up~"

"Take your time! Still waiting on Rob to get home from Chicago."

"Oh no. Uncle Rob has to deal with the factory again?"

"Unfortunately~" Joey chuckled. "You're gonna hear a mouthful from him when he gets back."

"Oh boy~" Alvin laughed.

Dropping his camera gear off downstairs in what was his former bedroom, Alvin grabbed some fresh clothes and went to take a shower. Getting himself cleaned up, Alvin soon stepped out of the shower, dripping wet. Drying himself off with a towel that he wrapped around his waist, Alvin walked up to the steam choked mirror that was on the wall and wiped some of the steam away with a clean rag to reveal his face. Taking two steps back, Alvin stared at his steam distorted reflection. He was a slender Dober with the typical Doberman markings. The only giveaway of being part Rottweiler was his slightly wider chest and thicker tail nub. His wedge shaped head had pointy cropped ears that stood tall between a thick head of wet, curly black hair. Alvin had naturally curly hair when he grew it out. It was somewhere between curly and Afro textured. He had it trimmed up and stylized into something street smart looking when not wearing a hat.

Drying himself off and throwing on a fresh tanktop and shorts, Alvin returned to the kitchen to talk to his uncle and play with their pet duck, while awaiting Rob to come home. The house felt different without Felix and his now husband Tony Alvarez. Felix was Rob's adopted son, a fawn Doberman who Alvin treated like his older brother. Now he and Tony had their own place a few miles up the road.

As Joey sat the table, Rob Barion returned home from his flight to Chicago. Stepping inside, the brown and tan wolf-hybrid carried his flight coveralls thrown over his shoulder, his orange "bone dome" ZsH-3 helmet dangling from his grip.

"Dare I ask how your day's going?" grinned Joey teasingly with a laugh. Rob had his usual serious glare on his scarred face and grumbled about his day under his breath.

"Why don't you get cleaned up, and we'll have dinner~" Joey suggested.

"Alright."

After Rob got cleaned up and changed into some casual clothing, they all sat around the oval table, to enjoy dinner.

"So... Uncle Rob? How was the factory?"

"Chaotic, as usual." Rob grumbled over a bite of pasta salad. "I don't know why the former parent company even thought Ryan Vlockner would be a good choice of plant manager? Heh, typical Chicago corruption or something... I wouldn't have Ryan or Brent be in charge of anything! Those two could fuck a cup of coffee up!"

"Why don't you just fire them?" Joey asked curiously.

"Because I don't have anyone else who'd be any better..." Rob shook his head. "Believe me... if I could... they would have been gone a long time ago."

"Warm bodies are better than no bodies!" Alvin teased.

"Good 'nuff for government work." Rob joked. "How was your day out videotaping, Alvin?"

"Fun! Got a lot of interesting shots of abandoned buildings in the Hilltop~"

"Well that's a dime a dozen." Chuckled Rob. "That's one place where hopes and dreams come to die."

"I thought that was Newark, Rob." Joey snickered.

"That too."

"It was fun until I ran into Shakar..."

Joey and Rob glanced at each other, pausing mid-chew at the news. "Did you..." Rob muttered.

"We were refueling and he showed up out of nowhere. He's changed so much since the last time I remembered him."

"What, is he like a thug or something now?"

"He's all built up, and looks like a gangbanger." Alvin shook his head. "He told me not to come back to the Hilltop or intrude in his turf."

"What a joke." Rob rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"I think it's kind of sad... because Shakar used to never be like that when we were kids."

"A lot's happened in eight years, Alvin~" Joey reasoned. "Look how far you've come from a nine year old. You've all diverged on different paths."

"Sadly." Alvin shook his head in disappointment. "That whole family is so toxic when I look back at all the abuse from my grandmother... the stuff my mom had to deal with."

"It's a shame. But it happens. The cycle of abuse through family generations." Joey nodded.

"I feel like... you broke a family cycle Uncle Joey? You're nothing like Dad or Grandma and Grandpa."

"Well that's because I made a conscious decision as a teenager to not be anything like my parents!" laughed the Doberman.

Rob chuckled. "Arguing about... how deep a pan is before it constitutes a pot."

"Or the specific color of a specific blade of grass."

"Or what color shirt would look best on me~" Alvin shrugged.

"See? I don't ever want to be like that. This is perfection." Joey pointed at himself with a sarcastic grin and a laugh.

"Ha~ Well... hopefully Shakar and my grandparents over there just leave me alone... since I'm going to be doing that Hilltop documentary." Alvin grimaced. "I don't like trouble! And I'm not making trouble!"

"Just make it look like an accident~" Rob sarcastically suggested. "Oh man...that stupid factory in Chicago has me all riled up... I don't know how this day could get any worse?"

The front door exploded open to Joey's parents bursting in, in the middle of an argument. Andrew and Marie Paulo, two aging Brazilian Dobers, loudly argued over a new t-shirt Andrew was wearing.

Joey looked at his parents with a "not again" gaze, before turning to smile at his husband.

"Jinxed yourself, Rob!"

---

Friday morning was hot and sticky, the usual for a late July day. The early morning sky above Church Street was almost a milky white, with a faint hint of yellow from the sticky haze that clung to Newark. Alvin slowed up and put his turn signal on to arrive to his very own little studio, the former school district bus depot, that his uncle owned. Located at the corner of Church and Day Avenue, the bus depot was a square building with a tall maintenance garage, all sheathed in sandy tan bricks. It had once served as the temporary home of Rob's office and studio, when his old building burned down in an arson attack. But now the building returned to its inglorious job as Barev's storage depot, save its studio, which got a new lease on life with Alvin and his friends taking over.

Alvin hopped out with his friend Spencer. The young Dober put his baseball cap on over his curly locks of hair. He brushed a wrinkle out of his black and gray striped tanktop and stuffed his keys into his black gym shorts pocket. Looking at the empty parking lot, he was surprised that Rob still wasn't there yet, despite them stopping to put gas in. When he was leaving, Rob got distracted by a phone call regarding a problem with his Chicago factory; Rob was going to be showing Alvin and Spencer how to retube and calibrate a camera. Alvin grabbed his Betacam suitcase and walked with Spencer to the front entrance, under a car port overhang.

Stepping into what was the former office, it was now just a desolate storage area, filled with various boxes, furniture, and some mothballed computers and printers. The office had an old musty smell to it, it's brown carpet trampled and worn. The faded walls housed a couple pictures, one of them being a picture of Alvin and Spencer with some of their friends. Jordan Fernando, Robby Tokarev, and Jeffrey O'Sullivan all posed for a picture at the city pool, before the pandemic put everything on hold. It was a bittersweet picture, as Jordan had moved away earlier in the year, to Chicago, where his older brother got a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity. Plus, he could be with his once lost father once again.

"I miss Jordan." Spencer shook his head.

"Yeah. I miss him a lot too." Alvin agreed with a sigh. "We play video games and chat with him all the time online, but it's not the same."

"Yeah." The husky agreed.

"Tis' life." Alvin accepted with a shrug as he rounded the bend in the office to head to the studio. Pushing the double doors open, Alvin walked over to flip on the lights in the dim studio, lit only by the morning rays filtering through the frosted windows high above. Alvin hit the switch, but nothing turned on. He hammered the switch a couple times and grumbled; the circuit had tripped again sometime prior.

"Ya know, I thought they fixed this place up?" Spencer asked sarcastically. "Apparently not good enough!"

"Nope!" Alvin laughed. "Lemme get up on the roof and flip the master breaker..."

"Who puts a breaker up there?"

"Apparently Newark schools!"

Alvin exited through the fire door at the back of the former maintenance garage. He climbed up an old metal latter to the roof, which was lower on the backside of the building. Climbing up, Alvin unlocked the gate to the barbed wire fence protecting it, and got onto the roof to go find the breaker, which connected the incoming power from the lines. Opening the box up, he switched off the circuit, and turned it back on. That always reset the breaker inside. He repeated the process going back down, ensuring that the gate was locked as he slowly climbed down the steps.

"There we go~" Alvin nodded as he saw the studio's lights glowing after Spencer fired them up.

The maintenance garage was roughly rectangular in shape. It had a tall ceiling where lighting gantries hung. The back wall was painted white, and the floor was smooth concrete. Some props and backdrops sat off in the back. On the studio floor sat three pedestal mounted studio cameras, three beige and white Ikegami HK-322's. A gift from Rob's friend, Maverick, the three "Ikky's" were a rather conservative looking tube studio camera from the early 1980's, which ran a set of 30mm Plumbicon tubes, and used Fujinon lenses sheathed in dark gray hoods. Sitting on a table were a pair of Ikegami HL-79D's, the ubiquitous "Handy Looky" shoulder mounted camera, all with a manufacturing date of 1980. They were rectangular and angular in shape, covered in gray and black metal and plastic that was dinged up and scuffed in places. Fujinon lenses were attached to the cameras, complete with a SRD-52 zoom control grip, Alvin's personal preference, just like how his Betacam was configured. His uncle was going to show him and Spencer on how to retube these cameras, which had worn out Plumbicons that were needing replaced.

Soon Rob arrived, in his red Tahoe. Getting out, Rob look flustered as Alvin greeted him at the door.

"Sorry Alvin, I had to play some damage control."

"The optics plant?"

"Who else? When you think you retard proof something... Ryan and Brent prove they can overcome any fool proof system." Rob scoffed. He realized he forgot his tools, and went back to his SUV to fetch his tool box, oscilloscope, and a couple boxes of new pickup tubes .

Stepping inside, Rob remarked about how cramped and small the bus depot was, and how he managed to make it work for as long as it did as a stopgap headquarters. Grabbing the cameras, they worked in the studio as Rob showed Alvin and Spencer how to change the tubes out.

Rob worked on the first camera himself, showing the two teens how to disassemble it. The innards of the camera were a set of logic boards, and the tube's scanning deflection yokes, which dominated a quarter of the space inside. Rob disassembled the yokes from the optical splitter block, which held one tube for each color channel. Disconnecting the tube base from the wiring harness, Rob gave the base of the tube a quarter turn and pulled them out, revealing an old set of Philips XQ-1427 Plumbicons. The glass tubed Plumbicon was a narrow cylinder, two-thirds inch in diameter, sporting a light tan colored imaging target made of lead-oxide, with an anti-halation faceplate extender on the front. Rob removed the old tubes and installed a new set, made by his factory in Virginia, the Barev P5025 "Plumbicon ABO" tube. He repeated the process and after giving the prism splitter a clean wipe with an alcohol wipe, reinstalled the deflection yokes and attached the wiring harnesses. He sat the camera up, and aimed it at an evenly lit calibration chart, which had a set of black calibration marks and a color bar profile. Working with the oscilloscope, Rob explained what he was doing as he switched the camera on, and began poking around with his probes, to adjust and set the scanning aperture, the gun's beam current, white and black levels, and finally on the monitor, registration of the color channels. Within ten minutes, Rob had a properly set picture on display, a crisp picture on the television, with the classic soft pastel colors the lead oxide tubes gave. Rob reattached the side panel and let the camera sit to stare off into a dark corner for a bit, to break the tubes in.

Rob got the second camera ready for Alvin to try, when a knock at the door got their attention.

"Oh who the hell could that be..." Rob said, getting up. Alvin followed his uncle to the front entrance, where Rob opened it to reveal two police officers standing at the entrance. Two Newark cops, dressed in their black uniforms and black sunglasses, stood with stoic faces as Rob just glared.

"What can I do for ya?" Rob asked curtly.

"I'm Officer Stapleton." Spoke a German Shepherd. "I was dispatched here on reports of suspicious activities at this building."

"What suspicious activities?" Rob scoffed. "It's my building!"

"Reports of a teenager on the roof of the building." Spoke the other officer, a gray wolf with slicked back black hair between his ears.

"Oh, that was me just flipping the breaker~" Alvin spoke up.

"Oh." Both officers muttered. "We'd like to ask some questions regarding the use of this building?"

"Do you have a warrant?"

"Uhh, well, no?"

"Then fuck off~" Rob snapped.

"Look, we're just following orders, Rob."

"I don't give a shit what the fuck you're doin'." Rob pointed. "And you tell that motherfuckin' bitch, Beverly, that if she ever calls to bitch about business activities at MY building? Then she can talk to me, so I can shove her complaint up her fucking ass!"

Rob slammed the door shut and locked it. Alvin stared with an ashen face. "Uncle Rob, you're just gonna talk to cops like that?"

"Yeah, what are they gonna do about it?" Rob grumbled as he walked back to the studio. "Cops are a bunch of shysters- here's all these problems in Newark, and they choose this to respond to? Pathetic!"

"All I did was flip the breaker and someone called the cops?"

"Bev is this cranky lady who lives in the house back and to the left of this building across the alley... She always griped about any little noise we made... pretty much anything, because we were a business near her house..." Rob explained.

"That seems petty... is she gonna give me and my friends problem for having a studio here?" Alvin asked.

"If Beverly gives you any problems, you let me know, and I'll give her a piece of my mind~"

"...and your foot." Alvin muttered to himself.

---

After getting a lesson on retubing a camera, and resurrecting their three HL-79's, Alvin and Spencer hit the road with the silver Tahoe. With their video gear packed in the back of Alvin's SUV, they hopped onto Route 16 to begin driving east, towards Hanover, for a video assignment from Rob. He had intended to shoot a video for a friend of his, but at the last second, an unexpected problem emerged with his business that forced him to pass it along to Alvin and Spencer.

Engaging cruise control, Alvin and Spencer passed through downtown and the east side of Newark. The rundown neighborhoods that ringed the downtown passed by them along the highway, the constant sad reminder of Newark's long gone heyday. Steam wavered from the Owens Corning smoke stacks, and the old brick buildings of Holophane. Off in the distance, the golden dome of the courthouse marked the center of old downtown Newark. And as the city passed behind them, the final iconic landmark of Newark, the distinctive picnic basket shaped Longaberger building came into view.

"I can't wait to try this camera out." Spencer said with a hint of excitement to his voice. "I can't believe I got the tubes all set up on the first try!"

"Heh, same here... but I got shocked..." Alvin said with a cynical chuckle. "Wiring harness got me when I needed to make an adjustment."

"Ha~" Spencer teased. "So basically that's how you set all tubes up?"

"Yeah basically. I think with the Saticon the target and gun voltages are a little different, but that's basically it."

"Ah." Spencer nodded. "So what is this again? A commercial? A promo?"

"Rob shoots videos for his friend Cyrus, who puts them on his YouTube channel for his landscaping business. So it's gonna be a promo for something he's gonna put on sale for August."

"Ah."

"Cy likes the analog footage~"

"Well yeah, it's neat!"

"Analog tube footage has a look and feel that is warm...pastel like... like four-K looks great with all the sharpness and detail, but it gets dull after a while. It's almost too perfect."

"Yeah. Like it was neat to see it at first, but then it gets real dull."

"I like the character, the flaws, the look and feel of analog video, especially getting to mess around with videotapes and everything."

"All this well before our time~"

"Heh! Yeah!"

Alvin felt his phone vibrate as his ringtone jingled. He reached for his cellphone to find his dad calling him. Alvin swiped to answer.

"Hey Dad!"

"Alvin! Hey I'm not interrupting anything am I?" came Roberto's voice.

"Nah, just driving to Hanover. What's up, Dad?"

"Oh, not much on my end, Alvin, just wanting to ask if you're busy Saturday?"

"Well I got a morning practice flight with Uncle Joey and Rob." Alvin explained. "What's going on?"

"Jennifer wants to know if you'd all be interested in having a picnic up here at Firestone park this Saturday afternoon?" Roberto asked. "We're gonna get some food and enjoy the sunshine."

"Well sure! Let me just ask them and see what they say, but I'm sure it can't be too hard to arrange."

"Well cool! I'll let her know. And I'll let you get back to driving. You take care Alvin, I love you~"

"I love you too, Dad. Bye."

Alvin ended the call with a smile on his face. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket. "Looks like I got a picnic planned with Dad."

"Oh neat~"

Slowing down, Alvin put his turn signal on and stopped at the intersection of sixteen and Marne Road, which would take them to Licking Valley Road, their way into Hanover. The two lane road made a couple winding turns through some farmland, before the little village of Hanover appeared into view down a hill. Hanover itself was nothing more than a tiny little community, situated around an intersection. At the intersection there was a baseball diamond, a little creek that flowed, a Marathon gas station, a small local pizzeria, and a small maintenance garage. A small neighborhood of homes were nestled amongst trees. Stopping briefly at the red light, Alvin and Spencer quickly passed through town. Climbing another small hill, Hanover quickly gave way to just flat farmland of swaying corn and soybean fields. Traveling a few miles down Licking Valley Road, Alvin turned onto County Road 2, which would take them to Cy's place.

County Road 2 was a narrow country road, hilly and winding, which took them through more farmland and bits of patchy woodland that provided shade. Homes and farmsteads dotted the landscape as they drove. After a few miles, Alvin slowed up at the reflector and mailbox, which read "FILTON" on it. Alvin put his blinker on and turned off the road, kicking up dust on the gravel driveway. Rumbling through the tree line, Cy's home was an old farm house, offset from the road and concealed by the trees. The two story home was sheathed in cedar siding, with a big front porch, and a detached garage where two pickup trucks sat at. Alvin parked in an opening on the driveway beside the garage and hopped out with Spencer. He opened the rear hatch to grab their video gear.

Hearing them arrive, Cyrus emerged around the corner of his house. He was a tall blonde and tan wolf in his early thirties, who had fire red hair that was tied into a braided ponytail, Viking style. His muzzle sported a trimmed goatee and thick chinstrap beard, also bright red. The top of his head was covered by a blue bandana, and he wore a black tanktop and blue gym shorts, revealing his beefy tattooed arms that were sleeved in black and gray artwork to the wrists. He sat his hoe down and walked over.

"Hey! You're not Rob!" Cyrus teased with a playful grin. "How are ya Big Al!"

"Hey Cyrus~" Alvin waved with a smile. "Not Rob!"

"Well everyone can breathe a huge sigh of relief on that!" Cyrus laughed heartily. "Hey Spencer!"

"Oh hey~" the husky waved as he grabbed the camera suitcase and VTR pack.

"Rob got tied up with business woes, so he sent us to shoot your promo!" Alvin explained.

"I remember Rob telling me that some of his employees have heads where the elevator doesn't go all the way to the top~" teased the burly wolf.

"Ha, I never heard of it that way." Alvin laughed.

"I got a couple windows lickers myself!" Cyrus exclaimed. "I gotta get cleaned up before we do this promo- Freddy!"

Around the corner of the house came his seventeen year old nephew, Freddy Filton. Freddy was a lanky blonde and tan wolf who looked almost like a spitting image of Cyrus. Freddy wore a mud splattered tanktop and shorts, and had blue eyes hidden behind dark shades. A backwards baseball cap sat atop his head, where a long ponytail of brown hair flowed behind him. He had a serious look on his face, compared to his uncle's always friendly demeanor. "Yeah Cy?"

"We're gonna do the promo in a bit, so let's take a break and get cleaned up. How about some lemonade? I made it this morning!"

"Sure!" Spencer and Alvin agreed.

Cyrus welcomed everyone inside his house to escape from the stagnant heat outside. Alvin walked to the kitchen, marveling Cy's Americana theme to his home. Everything had a classic, rugged look; the walls of his living room were sheathed by old gray barnwood, which was knotty, cracked, and grayed with age. Big windows in the kitchen and living room gave an amazing view of his backyard, which had two miles of woodland and a big pond with a dock.

Cyrus grabbed some tumblers from his cupboard and sat them on his countertop. Fetching a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge, he doled out some ice and fresh lemonade for everyone to sip at while he told Alvin and Spencer of what he wanted for the promo and how feasible it was for Alvin and Spencer to videotape it. Freddy leaned against the counter and listened while sipping at his lemonade. Alvin periodically glanced over at Freddy, who reminded him of a childhood friend of his way back when. He remembered a neighborhood kid who looked like Freddy, who lived a block over.

"Well I'm gonna go get cleaned up, 'cause I look like a hot mess!" Cyrus laughed with a grin.

"Well your name's not Darryl or Ronnie~" Freddy teased.

"And thank god it ain't!" the wolf laughed. "I'll be right back!"

Spencer stood at the window, marveling at the beautiful woods and pond. "Oh wow this is so neat, I love the scenery here!"

"We can step out back if you want" Freddy suggested as he poured himself another glass of lemonade.

Going through the sliding porch door, Alvin and Spencer stepped out onto the deck to see the sparkling water of the pond, and the endless sight of woods, where a trail led off to it.

"Wow, this is awesome!" Alvin exclaimed.

"Heh, I can't complain." Freddy chuckled. "It's a huge step up from where I used to live at... the dump called Hilltop."

"You're from the Hilltop too?"

"Yeah~" the wolf nodded. "I lived around in various houses, but was born on Sullivant Avenue."

"Oh really! I was born on Sullivant too, that's where I grew up at." Alvin recalled. "Wait a second... are you... Fredward Montock?"

"Unfortunately, yes! That's me. Alvin Marquee?" Freddy asked.

"Well not anymore... I dropped that name like a hot potato. I'm Alvin Paulo~"

"Well shit, small world. I'm Freddy Filton." The wolf introduced. "I remember you! We used to be friends way back when!"

"Yeah! I remember you Freddy! Oh my god it's gotta be like... what? Ten years now?"

"Yeah! Remember how we'd always play basketball with your cousin Shakar and the other neighborhood kids, and all the neighborhood brawls, and other crazy shit!"

"Yeah I remember those days~" Alvin chuckled. "I'm glad they're behind me now."

"I never thought I'd run into you again." Freddy admitted. "Wow, how time flies."

"You two used to be friends?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah! Way back in our Hilltop days~"

"Ah."

"I got sent to live with my uncle about four years ago." Freddy explained. "Kayla's in prison now."

"My Mom's dead."

"Sydney died?"

"Yeah... she was... shot and killed by my uncle when she snapped." Alvin explained.

"Fuck, wow." Freddy shook her head. "Wow man, that's sad to hear."

"Bad decisions led to bad consequences, man~" Alvin shrugged. "I live with my two uncles in Newark, and things have been great."

"I'm glad you got out of that shithole when you did. I was fourteen when I came here, and I'm still unpacking what happened all those years." Freddy explained. "Go from the hood to hickville."

"Newark is somewhat quiet at least..." Alvin chuckled. "But nobody messes with my uncles."

"I can see why!" Freddy laughed.

"Rob's like a nightmare come true~" Spencer grimaced.

"Yeah don't get on Rob's bad side!" Alvin laughed.

The sliding glass door slid open to reveal Cyrus dressed in his neon green landscaping shirt that bore his company logo, a pair of snug Wrangler jeans and his pointy toe cowboy boots. "Alright! Beautified!"

Grabbing their video gear, Alvin and Spencer climbed aboard Cy's truck, riding in the backseat of the crew cab GMC with Cyrus and Freddy, as they drove to his landscaping business' headquarters not far away. For the rest of the afternoon, they tested out their restored camera by shooting the promo for Cyrus. As a thank you, Cyrus had them over for dinner, where he cooked everyone a steak dinner. Before leaving for the evening, Alvin and Freddy agreed to hang out again in the near future, then they could make time in their schedules.

---

Like a giant heat sink, the sun bleached pavement of Newark-Heath Airport radiated the stifling heat of mid-morning on another blazing July day. Taking a moment to dab his sweaty forehead with a rag, Alvin went back to work doing his pre-flight inspection. The Doberman walked in a slow circle, armed with his flight planner, as he inspected his ride to Akron, a vintage TP-40N Warhawk. The old warbird was in the process of being fueled up by his uncle's mechanic, Vlado Horvat, a burly gray wolf from Croatia. All around activity bustled on the tarmac; the airport was co-owned by Rob and a friend of his, and the tarmac was dominated by airport in various states of servicing and overhaul. Big propliners shared ramp space with high speed Soviet jets, all under the watchful eye of Rob's workmen. Not far away from Alvin, Rob stood preparing his plane for the flight to Akron, an immaculately restored FM-2 Wildcat, in glossy sea blue.

In front of Alvin sat a 1943 TP-40N Warhawk, his future warbird. The two-seat Warhawk was natural metal, its silver skin glistening in the sunlight. The nose sported a colorful red-orange and black striped chevron design, complete with a red-orange spinner. The nose had a huge radiator intake, with a smaller intake above the spinner, giving it a slab-side appearance. The Warhawk was a gift from the late Robert Woodward, a longtime friend of Rob. "Bob" as Alvin and everyone called him, was from Luxembourg and had served in the Swiss Air Force before going into the aviation industry and collecting aircraft. He helped Alvin in his early stages of learning how to fly, until he died of a stroke in 2019. While up in the air having a joy ride in the TP-40N, Bob suffered a serious stroke, immediately incapacitating him. Cool under fire, Alvin put the plane down for a successful emergency landing, but it was too late for his friend. The family ultimately gifted the TP-40N to Alvin, along with Bob's immaculate Cavalier Mustang 2000. The young Dober felt like he was the luckiest teenager in the world; not only did he have a future P-40E-1 awaiting him, he now had two more unique warbirds that would become his once he turned eighteen. A tremendous responsibility awaited him.

Finding nothing unusual in his pre-light inspection, Alvin signed off on the paperwork, just as Vlado approached. The gray wolf was Rob's personal mechanic, and head of all maintenance operations at the airport. Vlado was forty-nine, and had tattoo sleeves and a fancily done chestpiece that was somewhat visible around his sweat soaked tanktop. Slightly graying auburn hair made up his thick goatee and poked out from under his baseball hat. "Okay Alvin, what do you say?"

"I say she's good for flight~" Alvin suggested.

"You got a hot ship all ready to go~" Vlado said, while rubbing his elbow sarcastically. "And when I say a hot ship, I mean it!"

"Scorched your elbow again!" Alvin chuckled.

"It happens in this job~" the wolf chuckled. "Let me go double check on the boss-man here."

As Vlado walked over to check on the FM-2, Joey walked over. Like Alvin, the black and tan Dober was dressed in a summer flying outfit, which were khaki coveralls, and a brown leather flying helmet, complete with amber tinted goggles. He stood with his nephew, admiring the plane together for a moment.

"Well Alvin? You ready?" Joey asked.

"Yep! Flight plan is all turned in, fueled up, ready to go!"

"This suit is getting hot, let's get 'er flying~" Joey suggested with a chuckle.

"Better than the cold!" Alvin joked.

"Tradeoffs Alvin! Tradeoffs!" Joey laughed.

Climbing onto the wing root, Alvin stepped into the forward cockpit, where he immediately felt at home while buckling himself in. Joey got into the backseat and strapped himself in. Going through the checklist, Alvin began to power up the Warhawk. He switched on the battery and watched his gauges and indicator lights come online. Plugging his headset into the port of a modern radio, Alvin checked the frequency and radioed over to the terminal to confirm the altitude setting.

Glancing up at the hacking cough of a radial, the Dober watched as Rob's tubby little Wildcat came to life. Its Curtiss propeller spun up and white, oily smoke erupted from the exhaust stubs of the single-row Cyclone-9. Cool cylinders chugged, which smoothed out. Going back to his preparation, Alvin primed the Allison V-1710 and switched the magnetos over. Getting a thumbs up from Vlado, who stood with a fire extinguisher, Alvin engaged the starter, and watched as his three-blade Curtiss propeller begin to turn with the whine of the engine. Counting the blades, it took "four blades" for the Allison to catch. It roared to life, and spat out white smoke from its ejector exhaust. He kept an eye on the engine gauges while the V-12 idled. It's rough idled quickly smoothed out as the engine came up to temperature, its oil and fuel pressure in the green.

Rob soon began to taxi, and the dark blue Wildcat rumbled by for the runway. Not wanting the coolant to boil on the ground, Alvin released the brakes and applied some power to begin a slow roll. He gingerly turned the plane and followed behind Rob for the service road to the runway. Like Rob ahead of him, both planes taxied in a zigzag fashion, to see over the long nose. Rob made it to the runway first, and Alvin and Joey held at the end of the runway. Giving maximum power, Rob began his takeoff roll in the tubby FM-2 and quickly got airborne, the thick straight wings of the Wildcat pulling him skyward. Alvin gave a burst of power and opposite rudder to turn onto the runway and hold for a final check of his instrument panel. With the engine looking healthy, and altimeter set, the Dober dropped the flaps into the takeoff position and locked the tail wheel. Gripping the throttle, Alvin opened it all the way to command maximum power, while simultaneously pushing in opposing rudder. The Allison responded immediately, and the Warhawk roared to life. It began rolling down the runway, building up speed and the tail coming up quickly.

Holding steady, Alvin watched his critical speed as he felt the plane grow buoyant as he passed through V1. Slowly nudging the stick back towards him, the TP-40N lifted off the runway and began to climb. Alvin held steady and watched as the ground slipped away, and the vibrations from the runway be replaced by the smooth flight of the Warhawk through the scorching air. The air blowing in through the open cockpit felt great as a smile lit up Alvin's face. He retracted the gear, followed by the flaps, and finally throttling back to cruise power. A few minutes later, Alvin formed up on Rob's three o'clock, and the two plane formation began flying north-northeast, towards Akron.

At the helm of his future ship, Alvin felt empowered and in control. The Warhawk gracefully flew through the heat, passing over all the farmland that was crisscrossed by roads and patched with woodland and small towns. Feeling confident and in control, Alvin sat back and enjoyed the flight with Joey, his head on a slow swivel to soak in all the sights and sounds while he thought about seeing his Dad again.

Roberto "Robby" Paulo lived in Akron with his girlfriend Jennifer and her young daughter. He worked at a local Firestone plant as a tire quality control manager, having worked his way up after getting hired at the factory in 2017. Alvin and his Dad didn't have much of a relationship for the first decade of his life. Alvin was an accident, and he had never seen his father until he was seven years old. And even then, for a long time, their relationship was very distant at best. Alvin lived with his uncles and tried to have a relationship with his father, but Roberto was more interested in chasing women around and working on cars, than spend time with his only son. After trying multiple times, Alvin simply gave up and cut Roberto out of his life for a long time.

What started the reconciliation of their relationship was Roberto being hired at Firestone, and finally getting a stable, well paying job. He also met Jennifer, a girlfriend who finally was going to stick around, someone he loved dearly, along with her daughter. Jennifer ordered Roberto to have a relationship with his son, if the relationship were to continue. And realizing what was at stake, Roberto and Alvin worked out their problems. It was tense at times, and Alvin did express his frustrations and hurt, but ultimately, they rekindled their relationship, even if they both acknowledged that it wasn't going to be the close father-son relationship like Alvin had with his uncles. Nonetheless, it was a relationship. Roberto even gave Alvin $200 every week from his paycheck, to help Alvin out.

It took thirty-five minutes to make the flight from Newark to Akron. Through the haze emerged the metropolis of greater Akron-Canton, an old factory community, the old "rubber capital of the world". Alvin and his uncle flew over neighborhoods and old factories in their descent for Akron-Fulton. Alvin even recognized from the air, where his Dad lived at, as they passed overhead in the glistening Warhawk. Robert lived in an old neighborhood, not far from the sprawling Bridgestone-Firestone factory that dominated the landscape a few miles to the north of his house. Roberto's home was an old two story from the 1910's, with a slate roof, and a large maple tree in the front yard.

At the perimeter fence of Akron-Fulton stood Roberto and his girlfriend Jennifer, and her nine year old daughter, Haley Parsons. Roberto was a short black and tan Doberman, aged 36, who had beefy tattoo sleeved arms, and a tattooed chest that poked through his snug black and green tanktop. Jennifer was a red Doberman, taller than Roberto, with long auburn hair tied into a ponytail beneath a floppy hat. Young Haley stood leaning against the fence, looking a bit impatient. Like her Mom, she wore a blue summer dress that flapped a bit in the hot breeze.

"Mommy, when are they coming?" Haley asked.

"Soon! Soon!" Jennifer exclaimed with a laugh. "They gotta land!"

"Hey, I think I hear them coming!" Roberto exclaimed. They looked up into the sky to see the tubby little Wildcat and Warhawk rumble overhead at low altitude. They banked around for the turn to come into land, with Alvin coming in first. The TP-40N smoothly descended in with everything down, and Alvin made a perfect touchdown on the main gear. He rolled out and bled off speed, disappearing from the view behind a hangar. A few minutes later, Rob touched down in his FM-2, just as Alvin reappeared, taxiing up to their parking spot. Roberto looked impressed at his son's flying skills.

Coming to a stop, Alvin pulled the mixture back and bumped the throttle to run the Allison lean for a few seconds. Cutting the mixture, the engine sputtered and died, the propeller windmilling to a stop. Alvin slid the canopy back and unbuckled himself, standing with arms stretched out in a celebratory greeting to his Dad, who waved at the fence.

---

Firestone Metro Park was the setting for their picnic. Under the shade of some maple trees, Jennifer sat out food from a large cooler they had brought, as Alvin sat with his uncles and dad. The shade was a welcomed relief from the sweltering sun. Off in the distance, a group of teens played soccer in the field, and laughter and conversation from far away people were faintly heard.

"So how's work been, Dad?" Alvin asked across the picnic table.

"It's work!" Robby laughed. "But things are going well, and I got a pay raise last Friday~"

"Oh neat!"

"What about you, Alvin?"

"Oh you know, more of the same." Chuckled Alvin over a bite of food. "I'm getting my studio space all set up, and having fun."

"Well that's great to hear."

"Yeah!" Alvin exclaimed. "We just got the studio cameras set up, so hopefully I can start helping out in shooting video segments for Rob's educational programming~"

"Cool~" Robby said over a sip of a can of pop. "What about your flight training?"

"All going to plan~" Alvin boasted with a grin and a sarcastic raise of his Coke can. "If things go the way they are, then I'll be type rated and ready to go on my eighteenth birthday~"

"I can't believe you're gonna be eighteen~"

"I know right?" Alvin laughed. "Time flies. Especially in chaos..."

"Yeah~" Robby chuckled. "You know, you're a very lucky teen there, Alvin. How many people your age can fly, let alone a high performance plane?"

"None that I can think of~ But it's not what you know, it's who you know."

"Well I'd hope you'd know what you're doing!" laughed Robby.

"Heh! Yeah, Dad. I agree." Alvin chuckled. "If you're not careful, these planes will try and kill you!"

"I can imagine so!"

After a nice lunch with his Dad and family, Jennifer drove everyone back to the airport to head on home. Hopping out of the van, Alvin watched Rob and Joey go ahead through the perimeter fence to go get the aircraft ready.

"Oh Alvin!" his Dad called. The Dober turned around to see Robby approach him with an envelope in his grip. "I want you to have this~"

"Oh, well thank you Dad!" Alvin said with a smile. He accepted the envelope of money from his Dad and stuffed it into his flight uniform. "You know you don't have to do this~"

"I insist!" Robby exclaimed. "You're my only son, and... our history wasn't always so close... so I want to make it up somehow, you know?"

"I appreciate it, always Dad."

"Oh, one more thing, Alvin~ Hey, you ever wanna go to the Cleveland aquarium? Bring your friends or something if ya'll have a free day!"

"Oh! Well, let me see if I can get some free time Dad and we'll definitely go!" Alvin agreed.

"Heh, who has free time anymore?" Robby teased. "Work! Work! Work!"

"Make the corporations happy!" Alvin laughed. He gave his Dad a tight hug. "Nice to see you again Dad. Love you~"

"Love you too, Alvin. You have a safe flight back and let me know when you get back!"

"I will!" Alvin said as he ran through the perimeter gate. "See you later Dad!"

"Bye Alvin!"

From the fence, Robby, Jennifer, and Haley stood and watched as Alvin departed in his TP-40N. Rob got into the air first, his tubby Wildcat burbling away into the afternoon sunshine. Soon Alvin got momentum and lifted off into the air with Joey. Robby waved as he watched the glistening silver Warhawk climb for altitude and disappear into the silent cyan sky. A bit of sadness lingered in his eyes at his son's departure.

Flying through the stagnant hot air, Alvin rode in his Warhawk with the canopy locked back. Peering through his tinted goggles, the Dober watched Rob hold formation in his glossy blue FM-2. A look of thought graced Alvin's face as he flew on home to Newark.

---

Setting his Betacam in its foam padded case, Alvin secured the camera and its accessories for his trip back to Hilltop. Closing and locking the rolling case, the Doberman picked it up off his bed and rolled it behind him as he left his basement bedroom. Going upstairs lugging his suitcase behind him, Alvin checked the time and looked out the window, waiting for Freddy to pick him up. True to his word, Alvin agreed to hang out with his old childhood friend again, and what a better place to do so, than shooting video in the Hilltop. Alvin needed Freddy's help, as Spencer wasn't feeling good.

At ten-thirty, Alvin saw Freddy arrive in his truck, his silvery-gray Silverado. He pulled into the driveway, just as Alvin was leaving out the front door. He tossed his suitcase into the extended backseat, closed the suicide door and hopped into the passenger seat. Freddy backed out and they drove to the highway, where they began their westward journey towards Columbus.

"So you're makin' a video about the Hilltop?" Freddy asked with an amused tone to his voice.

"Getting preemptive on my senior broadcast capstone." Chuckled the Dober

Freddy shook his head sarcastically. "I could think of better topics than the fucking Hilltop."

"Its uhh...a more introspective topic. One rather personal."

"I get that, Alvin~ Heh, when I thought I never wanted to go back... here I go~"

"Yeah, I say the same thing. But it's sort of good for the closure? See where I've come from?"

"You and me both~"

Looping around the outerbelt of Columbus, Freddy took the exit onto I-70 for a half-mile, which led them to the Sullivant Avenue exit. Looping down to Central, Freddy took two rights and began driving down decrepit Sullivant. The two lane road was surrounded by tired old brick buildings. Some were boarded up and long since abandoned, with weathered plywood covering windows and doors. Freddy took all the sights in and shook his head in disdain. "The more things change, the more they stay the same" the wolf quipped cynically.

"Well there's my old childhood home~" Alvin pointed. Freddy saw the old two story home with the big front porch, which sat on a small hill. The once green home had since been painted brown, but its windows and doors were all boarded up. The familiar bright orange and white sticker from the Columbus police was slapped up on the boarded up door, announcing the closure of another drug house in the area. "Last I heard, they had moved to another place several years ago."

"Ah." Freddy nodded. "I remember that place. I was born a bit ways up the road."

"The duplex right?"

"Yeah!" Freddy recalled. "The weird olive-beige duplex thingy. Where all my problems began..."

Freddy drove up Sullivant a few more blocks, and slowed as they passed by his old childhood home. The duplex was still occupied, and Freddy remarked that it looked even worse than what he remembered it to be. He couldn't help but remark about "all the litter".

"That's the first of many homes I lived in... before I found some stability with Cy~" Freddy shook his head. "Alright, where do wanna shoot this?"

Parking at an elementary school, Alvin and Freddy walked up Burgess Avenue to shoot more b-roll for the documentary. Freddy carried the suitcase while Alvin manned his Betacam, capturing various shots of the tremendous amount of litter that covered the curb and sidewalks. Alvin thought it was a disgusting sight that needed to be captured; it epitomized the dilapidation of the Hilltop. Knocked over trash cans, litter everywhere, beer and alcohol bottles scattered and busted. Alvin finished his shot, got up, and shook his head in disdain at all the mess.

Walking down an alleyway, Alvin carried his camera on his shoulder while he walked with Freddy back towards his truck. Freddy walked slightly ahead of him, lugging the tripod and suitcase with him as he kicked a rock down the pavement.

"This is the problem with Hilltop- nobody gives a shit about anything." Freddy remarked. "It's trash because the people are trash- everyone's just given up and accepted their lot in life, and instead of doing anything about it, instead of trying to make their lives better, they just do this shit. It's a self-defeating cycle that keeps repeating itself. Those who want to make their lives better like me get the fuck outta here, and those who stay allow themselves to just get sucked into this darkness."

"It's a real mess~" Alvin agreed. "I don't miss this shit."

"That is the problem with the Hilltop. Self defeat." Freddy griped. He stopped for a moment to adjust his baseball cap and ponytail. "This is the place where hopes and dreams come to die, man~"

"I thought that was Newark." Chuckled the Dober.

"I'd take N'erk over this shithole." Freddy shook his head. "This is just a nightmare."

"Oh boy."

Alvin stopped when he saw a group of five teens emerge from around the side of a garage. Two wolves, two Rottweilers and a red Doberman, all wearing just tanktops and baggy gym shorts, approached them. "What the fuck you fellas doin' here?" one of the Rottweilers demanded.

"Filming." Alvin calmly said.

"Filming?" the Doberman asked. "Filming what?"

"A documentary." Alvin explained.

Freddy took a couple steps back and put himself in front of Alvin. "We're not makin' trouble, so fuck off."

"Well if you don't want fuckin' trouble, you better be handin' that camera over!"

"Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!" Freddy shouted.

The Doberman pulled a knife from his waist. Alvin's heart sank at the right of the glistening blade when Freddy suddenly kicked it out of his grip. The blonde wolf went on the offensive and punched the Doberman in the face. A brawl rapidly ensured.

Shoving the Doberman into his friends, Freddy kicked one Rottweiler in the crotch, and punched a gray wolf in the face, which knocked him off his feet. Swinging around, Freddy suddenly saw something matte and square in the grip of the other wolf, a stubby Glock 42. Lunging for it, Freddy and the wolf struggled over the gun. Alvin didn't even know how to react to the sight of his friend struggling with the pistol. Freddy broke the wolf's grip, spun the gun around in his, and pistol whipped him in the forehead. The blonde wolf raised the gun up into the air and fired it. Alvin practically threw himself to the pavement.

"GET OUTTA HERE! GET!" Freddy screamed. He fired the gun a few more times, it's loud report deafening. The teens who tried to mug them quickly turned and ran as fast as they could, disappearing from view around the side of an abandoned house.

"Fucking thugs..." Freddy shook his head.

Alvin looked up to see Freddy unload the Glock. It was then that Alvin could no longer deny the parallels between Freddy and his uncle Rob. Freddy's face was devoid of emotion as he pulled the magazine out and popped the slide to eject the bullet. He looked over at Alvin, and his blue eyes looked empty and dead to the world. They looked like empty pools of lapis lazuli, just like Rob's empty green eyes.

"Alvin are you okay?" Freddy called.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What the hell was that!?" Alvin exclaimed as he picked his camera up.

"An attempted mugging. Fucking idiots~" Freddy grumbled as he picked the knife and bullet casings up. "C'mon, we gotta get the fuck outta here before the cops show up. The sharp shooter picked that up~"

Throwing his camera into its suitcase and locking it up, Alvin locked it back up as Freddy disposed of the knife and gun into a dumpster. They quickly bolted back to his truck and quickly took off to escape.

---

Hopping onto I-70 from the Sullivant onramp, Freddy kept his foot to the floor as he raced up the onramp and merged onto the interstate. The adrenaline still surged in their veins as they raced away from the Hilltop to head back home to Newark.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same..." Freddy shook his head. "I don't miss that shit one bit!"

"Freddy, holy shit!" Alvin shouted. "You just took on five guys without a flinch! You disarmed two guys and scared them off!"

"Hey, it's what I do~" the wolf shrugged. "I had to fight to survive, and it's just second nature when presented with a threat..."

"They could have easily killed us~"

"Yeah, that's very well true. But I don't care about myself- I'd feel bad if something happened to you, but me? I don't care if I die- not that my life mattered."

Alvin frowned at Freddy's cynicism.

Freddy glanced over to see Alvin frowning at him. The wolf had a look of thought on his face, his face looking serious behind sunglasses. "I didn't have a good growing up in the Hilltop, as you remember."

"I don't think any of us did."

"Kayla was a worthless piece of shit for a 'mom'. She's a fucking egg donor to me. She put me in so much danger all the time, so she could get her drug fix. I was just an annoyance, and people made no secret of it all the damn time. I bounced from place to place, got beat her by her piece of shit boyfriends, and went hungry all the time because she blew all her fucking money on drugs! It's hard to shake the feeling of being worthless to people. I saw how everyone else had families that loved them, and then I got Kayla and I got that fucking worthless retard, DARRYL."

"I remember how your mom was."

"Your mom was a dumbass herself, but she at least gave the impression of trying to have some kind of modicum of decency to you. Sydney was just the way she was because of Mary and your spineless simp of a grandpa, Darius. Kayla was just stupid, and that's the entire Montock family too. Stupid. Everyone's a dumb motherfucker. They don't try and aspire to change their lives or do anything- they just wallow in their own fucking filth. That's why that family has so many problems." Freddy griped.

The young wolf continued his rant. "I'm like this because I had to make the initiative myself to survive. Kayla wasn't going to give a shit about either of us! You know what it's like when you have to revive your mom with narcan several times by the time you're thirteen? To find her face down on the table, or on the floor. Or her coming back all bloodied and bruised because of her boyfriend beat the shit outta her? Crying and sobbing and then going right on back to get her fix, and then get her ass thrown down again? And then there's lil' Fredward, having to go hungry because Mom didn't buy anything. Drinking bad milk, or moldy bread because that's all I had? No money for lunch at school? And when I finally did get some money, your fucking simp grandpa comes and mugs it from me!"

"Oh boy..."

"Darius knocked me down on the ground and took my twenty for lunch. Grown ass man doing that to a child- heh, your grandpa was a fucking pussy. He let Mary push him around and call all the shots, the fucking pussy. Mister wannabe gangbanger my ass. Same with your uncle and his shit ass son Shakar."

"My grandparents... they... make their own problems and blame everyone else." Alvin shook his head. "I'm glad I got out of that situation when I did."

"Same here." Freddy agreed. "I got taken away from Kayla after I got a couple ribs broken from her last boyfriend... Getting hit with a baseball bat sucks..."

"Ouch."

"But I got him good~ I cracked him right in the forehead~ Nighty night Jimbo!" Freddy laughed sardonically. "And I called the cops, because that motherfucker was gonna murder her. Cops came, and then I got taken away. I'm thankful Cyrus stepped in, 'cause I was destined for the system. And the system breaks you, man. Kids that end up in the system are fucked. They age out and just repeat the cycle."

"I'm thankful for my uncles. God knows where I'd be without them." Alvin cringed.

"Cyrus understands me like nobody else in my family. He's never judgemental. He's always just... happy and loving to me. We do a lot together. He's my father figure. My grandparents think I'm too distant, too untrusting to people. Well...a lot's happened, and they won't understand it, because the ho-diddly-hum Hanover life where everyone's responsible and self-sufficient... it's not like the Hilltop. No way. Cyrus saved me and that's why I appreciate him as my uncle. I don't know how you can have someone like Cyrus, and then his older brother is this knuckle dragging troglodyte! Darryl's a fucking idiot. That dude could fuck up a wet dream. He's knocked up all these women and then dropped 'em like a hot potato the moment they say they're pregnant. Have some fucking responsibility! But it's never his fault. Nothing's ever Darryl's fault- HEY LOOK AT ME I'M DARRYL FILTON, AND I DON'T BATHE DAILY! I'M THE STRONGEST MAN YOU CAN GET, SO TOUGH AND HARD WORKIN' WITH MY RETARDED UNCLE RONNIE! Jesus Christ... what's it gonna take, gimme a fucking clue... I'd like to just chop 'em up and stuff him in a hollow tree, or pull his teeth out and feed em to Jerry's hogs!"

"Whoa, Jesus, Freddy!" laughed Alvin. "That's morbid!"

"Sorry. That's just my nature." The wolf shrugged. "So yeah, Alvin, as you can see... I'm all fucked up in the head from all this. People at Licking Valley think I'm gonna be a mass shooter or something."

"Uhh..."

"That's the other thing, Alvin! Everyone at Licking Valley is terminally retarded. It's like Hanover and that region of Licking County just breeds a bunch of hicks- nobody has any interest in learning, no intellectual curiosity, nothing. Everyone just wants to go off how they feel about things... why have facts? Why have reasoning when you can just pull it outta yer ass? Just like fucking Darryl! This pandemic has really opened my eyes up to how fucking stupid and self-absorbed people are. The same people who can't wear a mask because they can't breathe, can wear a deer piss soaked rag for hours across their face while they go hunting for a twelve pointer or something! Unbelievable. I happen to like learning, just like Cy... it's nice to not be a dimwit."

"The past year and a half has been...exhausting." Alvin admitted. "I got vaccinated with my uncles and everyone, and people at school thought I was nuts or something."

"Ohhh nooooo, not the vaccine~" snorted Freddy. "Fuck 'em. I'm done dealing with stupid. If you don't take the steps to protect yourself? Fuck it! I don't care anymore. Let Delta wipe 'em out."

"I haven't had Covid... but my adopted bro Felix had it and said it was rough."

"I had it with my whole family... thanks to fucking Darryl... and it was awful. I laid in bed all day, and had zero energy with a high fever for like a week. Cyrus was knocked out too."

"Yikes."

"Who the fuck wants to deal with that shit? How many people who have died could have been saved had they just gotten the shot? GAHHH! ALVIN!" Freddy shouted with a laugh. "Why are people so stupid!"

"They don't understand."

"They don't understand because they choose to be like that. I just don't get it. Everyone in Valley is the stupid conservative groupthink. Nobody wants to get out of their comfort zone and actually challenge their views. This country is doomed from this mindset. It's so fucking pathetic to watch. I'm glad I'm a loner. People annoy me."

"Yeah... Freddy... People are exhausting."

"The same thing that keeps Hilltop the way it is, is the same reason why everyone in Valley sticks their head in the sand. Stupid is as stupid does."

"I try and be an optimist. Even if it's exhausting." Alvin explained to Freddy. "Like... I almost gave up on my Dad... but we reconciled and have a good relationship now."

"How did you reconcile?"

"Well...for a long time we didn't really speak. There was a lot of hurt because my Dad didn't really want a relationship with me for a long time, and that's why I lived with my uncles. So we didn't get along, and we didn't talk... and his girlfriend basically told him it was our relationship for theirs... and we sat down and we talked it out. What helped me was that I had to accept some things, and he had to accept some things. I had to accept that our relationship wasn't going to be this close fatherly thing, but we wanted to be closer, ya know? And I had to accept that it took my Dad a long time to mature as a person and find who he is as well. I realize that some people mature at different rates, and that's fine~ I rather swallow my pride and accept things, than seek revenge."

Freddy had a look of thought grace his face as he passed a slow van in the right lane. "I don't think me and Kayla will ever speak again. I don't know about Darryl... He's a buffoon."

"Never say never."

"Me and Darryl always fight. Darryl likes to just insult me and make fun of me, and he's just in general an immature loser who thinks he's this tough talkin' ladies man. The guy can barely make any money and sucks as a business guy. Cyrus does circles about his landscaping business. Darryl just wants to put me down, and call me a pussy and all this other shit. So where do I start with that?"

"Everyone matures at different rates, Freddy. So don't give up hope."

"Heh, if you say so, Alvin."

---

An early Friday morning thunderstorm left the landscape soaking wet. Turbulent skies gave way to blue once again, and the morning sun shone brightly off in the eastern sky. Steam wavered off the pavement as the heat began to rapidly build up for another sticky late July day.

With camera and lighting gear loaded up in the back of his Tahoe, Alvin and Spencer took off for another day-trip around central Ohio. Burbling down the driveway, Alvin turned right and drove down Karen Parkway, enroute to Delaware. Hitting the highway, Alvin got his SUV up to speed and engaged the cruise control, for their hour long drive.

"We'll shoot the interview of my great uncle George, and then we'll go down to OSU and shoot their campus promo they wanted." Alvin explained to Spencer, who sat nodding while looking at something on his phone.

"Heh, heh, go from analog, to super high definition." The husky chuckled. "A world of difference."

"And a one piece camera." Alvin laughed cynically. "I'm still mad the viewfinder went out on my BVP-3."

"That sucks. Is Rob gonna be able to fix it?"

"He thinks it might be a blown capacitor, so we'll see if he can get it back up, or else it's a replacement." Alvin explained. "The joys of nursing forty year old gear around!"

"Heh! Double the age of us!" Spencer laughed. "My BVP was made in 1983, it's twenty-two years older than me!"

"Mine was made in eighty-five, so nineteen." The Dober chuckled. "This Ikky in the back is Rob's, and it's forty-three."

"Wow~"

"Built in March of 1979. And I think it's pretty much all original too." Alvin added. "This camera is Rob's first HL-79."

"Let's take care of it then!" Spencer exclaimed with a laugh.

Reaching the New Albany area, Alvin pulled off to go fuel his Tahoe up and get it out of the way. Stopping at the pump, Alvin hopped out and shoved the nozzle into the fueling port and squeezed the trigger. As the gas flowed, he donned his mask and ventured inside to go grab some drinks for him and Spencer. He walked inside and found the gas clerk tending to a customer at the counter. Going down the candy aisle, Alvin checked to make sure that his wallet was in his pocket as he walked to the cold drinks. He grabbed him and Spencer some flavored water and closed the glass door shut. As he turned around, he saw the gas clerk standing at the other end of the aisle, the older gray wolf looking visibly irritated at him. The stern gaze made Alvin stop in his tracks.

"You, empty your pockets, now!" the wolf demanded with a serious point of a finger. "Empty your pockets! I see your kind all the time in here stealing!"

"Excuse me?" Alvin asked him.

"You heard me! Empty your pockets, motherfucker!" the clerk snapped. He stormed over and grabbed Alvin, who immediately tried to shove him away.

"Get off me!" Alvin shouted. The much stronger wolf grabbed Alvin by the arm and hooked him. He reached down to feel Alvin's pockets, realizing that there was only his wallet. His serious gaze immediately switched to a look of ashen embarrassment. Alvin shoved him away.

"I told you I wasn't stealing!" Alvin snapped.

"Oh my god... buddy I'm so sorry!"

"Are you?"

"I thought you were stealing- I saw you move your arm-"

"I was checking on my wallet!" Alvin snapped. "What is wrong with you!?"

Other customers inside the small store stopped and watched the scene unfold. The old wolf looked so embarrassed at what he had done. "Hey buddy, tell you what! Have whatever you want here! It's on me okay! I'm so sorry!"

"I don't want your free shit. What next? You gonna get the cops called for that?" Alvin exclaimed as he pushed past him. Alvin turned around, walking backwards towards the exit. The slender Dober pointed to the clerk. "Wait till I tell my uncle ROB BARION about this!"

"Oh no..." a customer muttered.

"Look buddy! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I don't want trouble!" pleaded the clerk as Alvin stormed out the door and marched back towards his SUV.

Spencer, who put the fuel nozzle away and collected the receipt, saw Alvin walking back. The husky instantly recognized the angry look on his friend's face. "Alvin, what happened? Everything okay?"

"That sum bitch inside grabbed me and felt my pockets because he thought I was stealing!" Alvin shouted. "C'mon, let's go."

Getting into the Tahoe, Alvin quickly fired it up and peeled out for the road.

"Wait, the gas clerk grabbed you- like actually grabbed and restrained you?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah!"

"That's illegal! He could get in big trouble!"

"I can't believe he thought I would be stealing something. What the hell?" Alvin exclaimed as he ran his paw through his tight curls of shiny black hair. "Do I look like a criminal or something?"

"That's stereotyping, and that's just wrong." Spencer shook his head.

Alvin sucked on his lower lip and adjusted his sunglasses. "I've been noticing something..."

"What's that?"

"Ever since... I got this new hairdo and changed my wardrobe up a bit... people have been...different..."

"How?"

"I notice people always looking over more, people giving me weird looks at the store... the crazy lady who keeps calling the cops at the depot... and now this. Do I look like something I'm not supposed to?"

"Well I mean... your hair looks more... 'ethnic' if you know what I mean." Spencer said awkwardly. "Like... when I grow my hair out a bit, it's just thick and straight...since I'm apparently Swedish from my real parents... but your hair is more... textured? Curly? Nappy?"

"It's kind of Afro textured, but it's not." Alvin said. "That's 'cause I'm mixed~"

"I'd rock that hairdo if I could pull it off!" Spencer complimented.

"It's so strange..." Alvin quipped as they drove on.

---

Rolling to a stop at the guarded entrance, Alvin and Spencer arrived at the "Delaware County Juvenile Correction Center". It was a cold looking building, of gray cemented blocks, darkly tinted windows reinforced with iron bars on some of them, and completely sealed from the outside world by tall fences with barbed wire atop. The car ahead checked in at the guard post and got waved through, and Alvin slowly crawled up to the guard post, his window rolling down.

"Good morning, state your business~" the guard greeted in a gruff tone.

Alvin handed him the permission slip that bore his great-uncle's signature. The guard motioned them to go on through the perimeter. Alvin tapped the gas and took off to go find a parking spot. He rolled in and turned right to park in the shade of a large maple tree by the main building. Popping the back hatch, Alvin and Spencer hopped out to grab all their gear. Alvin lugged the rolling suitcase containing the camera behind him, while his backpack rattled on his back, full of spare batteries and tapes. Bouncing on his shoulder was a Sony BVU-150, a "hi-band U-Matic" VTR, packed in a blue Porta-brace case. Behind him, Spencer dragged along a suitcase full of LED lighting, plus the tripod for the camera.

Entering the cool lobby, the Doberman and Husky walked up to the counter, which was reinforced by a thick lexan shield between the counter workers and the lobby. Getting signed in, the lobby made a phone call for George to meet and take them back to his office. It would be a couple of minutes, so Alvin and Spencer sat down with all their gear at a small couch to wait.

As Alvin sat with his camera gear, he thought about his great-uncle George; he had never even known of his existence until relatively recently. His grandmother never once uttered his name. Nobody in the Marquee family did. George was the one "who got away". The second youngest of four children, George was a high school dropout who went to prison in 1988 at the age of twenty-one for a robbery that killed two people. Sentenced to twenty years in prison for being an accessory to murder, George turned his life around behind bars, got his GED and went to college, where he became a counselor, in hopes of turning troubled youth around before they ended up like him. His repentance from his life of crime estranged him from the troublesome Marquee family. They had thought he had gone "soft", and as a result, he was disowned by his mother and sister. After being released from prison early in 2001, George lived in Delaware with his family, maintaining a somewhat low profile. Alvin had only by chance saw his name come up when he was asking to interview youth counselors for his documentary. They had talked a few times on the phone to get to know each other.

The steel and glass door opened from the conference area to reveal George Marquee. He was a tall Rottweiler, in his mid-fifties with a bushy, slowly graying afro, dressed business casual in gray slacks and a red polo shirt that was neatly tucked in. He carried a planner and some folders tucked under his arm.

"Mister Alvin, Mister Spencer!" George greeted happily.

"Uncle George!" Alvin greeted. He walked up and happily accepted a paw shake from his great-uncle.

"It's so nice to meet you two." He greeted with his deep, saucy voice. "So you have all your gear for this interview?"

"We do~" Spencer nodded.

Going back to his office, Alvin and Spencer were presented with a decent sized room, which had bookshelves full of legal books and other binders of documents. George had a somewhat fancy desk where his computer sat at, the L-shaped desk having paperwork neatly stacked atop. The concrete block walls were adorned with photos of his wife Camille, and their three teenage children, Jayden, Zoey, and Okeo.

"It's funny, I've never heard of your existence until I was working on my school project." Alvin said as he got the gear set up.

George sat back in his padded chair and chuckled. "Well it doesn't help when you estranged everyone from doing the right thing. It's their loss."

"Yeah, I guess so." Alvin nodded. "I haven't talked to Grandma and Grandpa in a long time, and I don't plan on it. That whole side is just toxic."

"It's the vicious cycle of abuse sadly, Alvin." George said as he made a note in his computer about a juvenile he was mentoring. "That's how it was for me growing up back there. That's how it was for me, Mary, Emmett, and Lloyd. Just chaotic. Just abusive."

"Yeah." Alvin agreed. "Mary is just... she's..."

"She's evil. What more can you say?" George chimed in. "I want to say I love my sister... since she's family... and I haven't seen or talked to her in almost thirty years... but there's just no point anymore. That's the fate she chose, ya know? She's an evil woman- twisted by what had happened to her. And she allowed it to consume her, and she became the oppressor too. Always seems that way isn't it? The abused become the abusers."

"Negative feedback cycle~" Alvin quipped as he tested out a floodlight that was mounted on a tripod, only to momentarily blind himself. His reaction made George laugh as he closed up a file and stowed it in his filing cabinet.

"One of the things this job has taught me is that people from all walks of life, all colors, can fall on hard times, and go down very dark, destructive paths. But it is up to the individual themselves to decide if they want help. You cannot help someone unless they are willing to be helped- it's like a saying I've heard- you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink."

"That's true." Spencer nodded. "My real parents were drug addicts and abusive, and that's why I got taken away from them. And then they did something stupid and tried to kidnap me back and wrecked their vehicle and died."

George shook his head in disappointment.

"They didn't want help, and they paid the price for their actions sadly." Spencer shrugged. "But it is what it is now. I'm in a much better place with my new family."

"Well that's good, Spencer~ That's good." George nodded with a smile that crept up. "It sounds cold, but sometimes you have to move on from family. With my family, being tough and street rough and smart was all that mattered, and that's why the family is in the shape that it is. Education, being smart book wise, didn't mean anything, because they felt that with discrimination, there was no point being integrated around people of European background."

"Wow." Alvin muttered as he worked on his camera.

"I was disowned from my family because I chose a path away from criminality, gang life. I chose to get smart, and that was weakness to my family. So I was disowned. Heh, no loss anymore to me!" George said with a cynical chuckle at the end. "Sometimes you have to let things be and let fate play its course. My father and youngest brother chose the life of crime, and both got killed for it. Emmett chose drugs and died so young. Mary chose to be in crime and abuse her children, just as she was abused. It will catch up one day. One day."

Getting the lighting and camera set up, Alvin fired the camera up and waited for its Plumbicons to warm up. As the tubes stabilized, Alvin and Spencer talked to George about what they wanted to ask and how they wanted to tape it. Alvin sat a microphone down on the desk and got it placed where it wouldn't be in the shot. He walked over to the camera and adjusted the angle, focal length, and focus. He got a medium shot of George sitting at his desk, evenly lit under the bright white spotlights. Taking a few steps over, Alvin loaded a blank U-Matic cassette into the VTR. The thick square tape was loaded and spooled up with a pop-click signaling that it was ready.

Spencer took control of the camera and hit the VTR toggle, the red tally lights glowing on the viewfinder. "Alrighty, when you guys are ready!"

"You ready Uncle George?"

"Yep."

"Alrighty, let's do this."

"VTR rolling."

"Uncle George, thank you for taking part in my documentary on Hilltop... so if you'd like... why don't you introduce yourself, your background and growing up in the Hilltop?"

George was open and frank about his family. George introduced himself on camera was George Marvin Marquee, born on the twenty-fifth of June 1967, to Joe and Betty Marquee. He was the third of four children born, Emmett and Mary were his older siblings, while he had a younger brother named Lloyd. His father Joe was originally from Chicago, an unsuccessful machinist who had drifted in and out of jail for petty offenses and assaults. He moved to Ohio in the mid 1950's to try and find employment, and once again found himself in the wrong crowd. His mother Betty was a submissive housewife, the battered, neglected, cheated on spouse to abusive Joe.

George recalled about the abuse all of them got from Joe. Their father would hit and scream at them constantly. They never had much money growing up; Joe spent most of it on alcohol and women. To make up for it, they turned Mary into a prostitute for "extra cash". As Alvin sat and listened, he could help but feel shocked at how casual George talked about the depravity in the family. All these traumatic events, just said in a nonchalant, professional way. Various criminal activities, from drugs, to prostitution, Joe was involved in.

The drugs killed his brother Emmett; he was twenty-one years old when he overdosed on heroin, in the spring of 1980. It was a huge blow to then teenage George, to watch his oldest brother be buried. Then as they got older, they too got involved in the "criminal enterprise". George dropped out of high school in 1985, and his younger brother did too in 1986. Turning to a life of crime, George told his story about his own criminality. Petty thefts, robbing people at gunpoint, robbing businesses, it was his life of crime living at the edge.

It all came crashing down in the spring of 1988, when he and his friends robbed a stereo store in Clintonville. They had managed to make off with a bunch of expensive hi-fi gear, when the store owner caught them. A shootout ensured and the store owner was killed, but not before he shot and killed one of George's friends, nineteen year old Dwayne Magnus. Arrested and charged with robbery and being an accessory to murder, George got twenty years in prison. Being put behind bars had a profound effect on him, especially being in solitary confinement for two months after getting in a fight with another inmate. George credited a prison guard giving him the "spark" to turn his life around; he was told he could "either turn shit around now, or be a permanent resident like the others".

"So I decided then to turn my life around. I went to school, I got my GED, and went to college through the prison system, where I got my degree for counseling. I counseled inmates before being released."

After serving thirteen years of his twenty year sentence, George was released early for good behavior in March of 2001. While he blamed himself for his own actions that cost him a decade of his life, George acknowledged that he was who he was because of the broken home he had lived in, and the decay in the dying Hilltop. And this happened oh too many times with all the other cases he mentored.

During his time incarcerated, both his parents and younger brother died. In 1996, Joe and Lloyd were murdered in a drug deal gone wrong. They were apparently negotiating with a rival gang about a drug purchase when they went missing; their bodies were discovered in a shallow grave in a corn field down near Chillicothe, hands tied behind their back and killed execution style with a single bullet through the back of the head. George remarked that they "lived and died by the sword". His mother Betty succumbed to cancer in late 2000, mere months before his release from prison. All that remained of his family was Mary and her troublemaking family, who had estranged themselves from him for his redemption.

"So that's my story." George concluded, right on time as the last of the videotape was used up.

"Thank you Uncle George, now once we swap the tapes, can we talk about the Hilltop in general? Perhaps what makes people snap and go down this dark path?"

"Sure, Alvin."

---

With the last of their gear packed up, Alvin put the finishing touches on the label to the second videotape, filled with his uncle's conversations. Sealing it back up in its plastic sleeve, Alvin stowed it into his backpack and zipped it up.

"Gentlemen, it was a pleasure talking to you." George said as he shook their paws one last time. "Spencer, it was so nice to meet you. And Alvin, it was so nice to finally see and meet you."

"Same to you, Uncle George~" Alvin smiled.

"Hey, I'm gonna start putting this in the trunk." Spencer said as he carried the tripod and lighting case with him.

"Sure." Alvin agreed with a nod. Alvin stowed his uncle's HL-79A back into its foam case and closed the lid to lock it back up.

"You're a very smart teen there, Alvin." George complimented. "Always be like that."

"Well I don't want to be like my Mom or Grandma..." Alvin cringed. "I'm just gonna be me?"

"That's the best way! Be genuine!"

"Just sometimes... people make it so hard." Alvin rolled his hazel eyes.

"People can be exhausting, Alvin. Trust me~" George chuckled. "Don't let your past ever poison your future."

"I learned from it. That's why I don't ever want to be like it." Alvin shook his head. "I don't get why Grandma didn't learn from what happened to her."

"Sometimes people internalize trauma and then they became that same trauma. My parents were evil to Mary, in return, she turned evil. She never had a chance, and probably will never see the light, because to her, criminality, scum, that's normal. And there's this sense of perpetual victimization over past discrimination I'm sure. Sometimes you have to cut toxic people out of your life."

"Yeah."

"Always be better than that, Alvin."

"I will."

George smiled and gave Alvin a pat on the back as he picked up the suitcase and got it rolling behind him. "Please stay in touch Alvin!"

"I will! See you later Uncle George!" he waved as he departed for the exit.

George waved back and smiled as he watched his great-nephew leave for the lobby.

Getting all their gear stowed, Alvin and Spencer got the Tahoe started up and backed up to depart. They were waved through the perimeter and the silver SUV took off for the road. They were now enroute to downtown Columbus.

"Well that was productive." Spencer said as he sat back and relaxed in the passenger seat. He rotated his head around to crack his neck. "Ugh, hunched over that camera did a number on my neck!"

"Heh, yeah, but we did it!" Alvin grinned.

"We did~" Spencer exclaimed. "This documentary is gonna be great!"

"I'm excited." Alvin nodded with a smirk while he drove. "It's gonna be a masterpiece."

Heading southbound to Columbus, Alvin pulled off I-71 and entered the campus district, which straddled Clintonville to the north, the Short North arts district, and to the south, Franklinton. Ohio State University had a really nice campus that was spread around a couple of blocks. It was a nice campus surrounded in places by urban decay, and crime lurked in the area.

Stopping at a gas station to grab some drinks, this time Spencer went in to fetch them some cold water. Alvin stood by his Tahoe, taking a moment to inspect his tires. He walked around and gave his Firestones a tap with his shoe.

"Whacha doin' there, Alvin?"

The Doberman jumped and spun around to see his cousin Shakar grinning at him. "What the fuck you doin' in my turf? What did I tell ya before?"

"What the hell do you want?" Alvin said, his tone being shocked.

"Heh, wonderin' what the fuck you doin' here?" the Rott asked with a grin.

"Working." Alvin glared.

"What did I tell you about comin' back on my turf? You makin' problems!"

"I'm not." Alvin snapped back.

Shakar walked up and grabbed Alvin by the shirt. The Doberman pushed his cousin back, only to suddenly see Shakar aim a gun at him. Alvin froze dead in his tracks at a snub nosed .38 aimed at him.

"You don't want no problems from us, it's gonna cost you." Shakar smirked.

"No."

Shakar aimed the gun closer at Alvin. "I don't think you're in a position to say no." Alvin just glared in response.

"Two thousand bucks, Alvin. I want two grand... or else we're gonna fuck with ya'll again."

Alvin pursed his lips and looked uneasy. Shakar just laughed and lower the gun, stowing it back into his shorts pocket. "You're a god damn pussy Alvin... you know that? I can sense the fear in you."

"Not every day you get a gun aimed at you."

"Yet you live with that sorry-ass dickhead Rob! He's killed more people than anyone else has!"

"Only those who chose that fate..." Alvin snapped. "Leave me alone, Shakar."

"Two grand Alvin..." Shakar hissed as he handed him a piece of paper from his other pocket. "Two grand to leave ya'll alone."

Alvin reluctantly accepted the piece of torn notebook paper from his cousin, who promptly walked backwards, back towards his car with a smirk. He got back in and took off. The Doberman just gulped in response, just as Spencer returned with a bag full of drinks.

"Alvin?" Spencer asked. "Alvin?"

The Doberman turned around to look ashen faced at his friend. He nervously opened the piece of folded up paper to see Shakar's number scribbled on it, with a family demand of two thousand dollars.

"What is that? What just happened?" the husky asked.

"I think I have a problem..." Alvin gulped.

---

Saturday evening had a thunderstorm come rolling through Newark. The wind and rain pounded the sliding glass door in the small dining area, while Alvin finished up an evening dinner alone. The teenage Dober had the house all to himself for the weekend. His uncles were out of town tending to their businesses; Joey had to fly down to Opa Locka to help with an accident with one of their C-54's, while Rob was in Chicago tending to his photographic film plant. And with his "adopted bro" Felix now living in his own place with his husband Tony, it left just Alvin as the man of the house, for the weekend at least.

Finishing dinner, Alvin carried his plates and cup over to the sink to wash them off. He watched the thunderstorm slowly trail off, with the late evening sun beginning to appear in the distance. Another rumble of thunder filled the house with its slow deep baritone growl. Getting his dishes cleaned and setting them in the strainer to dry, Alvin returned to his bedroom that was down in the basement.

Flipping on the light, Alvin took a brief scan of his room. His basement bedroom was roughly a rectangle, with light blue walls adorned with aviation and technology posters. Having a soft spot for animals, Alvin had a large terrarium where his four red-eyed tree frogs lived at. He also had a twenty gallon tropical aquarium that was as well furnished with plants as his terrarium, with several black and silver angelfish swimming amongst themselves. Alvin took a moment to feed his pets, giving mealworms to his frogs, and some fish flakes to the angels in the tank. Stowing their food away, he grabbed a small stack of videotapes off his desk and walked over to his editing room next door to digitize them.

Alvin's "editing room" was nothing more than a spare bedroom in the basement. It was used somewhat as a storage area, and a spare room for guests, with a futon against the wall. Alvin had two desks near the back; one housed his modern desktop, complete dual monitors, and peripherals to capture analog video, and the desk on the opposite wall, which sat an ancient IBM Aptiva, a desktop he restored to play old computer games on, complete with matching black CRT display and an ancient HP LaserJet 4.

Getting his capture program ready, Alvin leaned over and switched on his U-Matic VTR, which was housed on a rack beside his desk. A fancy VO-9850 U-Matic editing deck sat above his Betacam deck, a BVW-75 Beta SP unit, its front faceplate covered in dozens of dials, switches, and indicator lights. The Dober unpacked his square U-Matic cassette and lined it up with the markings for the smaller "S" format tape and shoved it into the slot. The machine accepted it, and spooled up the tape. He reached over and got the program ready to capture. Hitting record on the desktop, he leaned back over to hit "play" on the VTR. A pop-click signaled acknowledgement.

On his desktop, he got to see the raw footage he and Spencer had shot at the juvenile detention center. It was pillar-boxed on his widescreen monitor, but it captured a nice clean feed. U-Matic had a slightly different look and feel than his Betacam; it's composite format gave it a bit more noise in the chroma, especially in the reds, and at the very bottom of the screen was some head switching noise. Compared to his BVP-3A, the slightly older HL-79A and its triode-gun Plumbicons gave a warm picture that had a sort-of pastel like colorimetry. The Betacam had a slightly sharper, more saturated appearance from its Mixed-Field, Diode-Gun Saticons.

Alvin sat back in his padded seat and listened to the interview of his Great uncle George. Spencer did a tremendous job of running the camera and getting the perfectly framed shot. Like his Uncle Rob, Alvin, sitting with a pen and a yellow legal pad, took notes and marked the time as his tape was digitized. The audio was clean and in stereo, his uncle sounding tremendous through the microphone. Alvin wanted to hear his interview in full again.

"I come from a poor family that was poor initially because of discrimination, but stayed poor because of poor decisions." George recalled on video. It was a tight shot Spencer got of George, looking introspective.

"My Dad would hit all of us. I got beat, many times by him, because he didn't get his way, or had a bad day, whatever. Joe was a violent father, and he sexually abused my sister too. Just because he could. And my Mom didn't do anything, because she clung to this idea that women just deal with it? It's crazy. This is what I dealt with. All of us dealt with, and it's the path to darkness."

Alvin made notes and listened carefully as he transferred the half-hour tape. He came to a spot where he really liked George's commentary.

"I think discrimination still affects things in this country, and there's still a lot of institutionalized discrimination in our systems of government. But there comes a point where you can't really use that as a crutch to explain all the problems in the African-American community. Yes there is still discrimination, but rampant numbers of youth dropping out of school, going to prison, single parents- there comes a point where personal responsibility has to come into play. I think, and this is my opinion only, I think there's cultural elements in our community that do not help. The music that advocates violence and gang life, violence against women, promoting of street life, thug life, being tough, and preferring vapid material possession- I mean, people get shot over a pair of Jordan's for god's sake! There comes a point where you have to acknowledge that many parents have failed their children, and many people have made poor choices that got them in prison. I made poor choices in my youth, and it ended up getting two people killed, and me in prison for over a decade. My family made very poor decisions, and that's why it's only me and my sister left alive. I can't speak for others, and nothing's cut and dry, black and white. But that's where I feel the 'core' of the problem resides at when I see youth coming into my office here."

Once the tape finished, he stopped capturing, reached over and rewound the tape. Once rewound, he packaged it back up and loaded the second tape, which had his commentary on Hilltop. Hitting capture and then play, he sat back down to lean back and watch.

"On Hilltop in general? When I was born, Hilltop was still a decent community. It was the working class neighborhood for the blue-collar workers. But the factories started closing down in the sixties and going overseas or down south, and soon more and more people lost their jobs. Many left Hilltop for better climes, and gradually throughout the seventies and eighties, Hilltop just fell apart. Crime became rampant, buildings fell apart and were abandoned, and the blight took over."

Alvin could faintly hear himself off camera ask, "why do you think Hilltop is the way that it is now?"

George had a momentary look of thought on his face as he leaned back in his chair. "Hilltop's problem today is multi-faceted. When the industry departed, and everyone left, the community just fell into this poverty black-hole, so to say. People can't afford cars, and public transit adds up after a while, and there's no major employment that makes a livable wage in that area. So employment is impeded by that. There's food inequality, like there's no grocery stores anywhere near the area, so access to fresh groceries is limited as well, and that's a nutritional problem... Plus the blight of buildings decaying... all the littering... it's just an invitation for more crime. When things look run down and dilapidated, it's like an invitation for depravity. I also believe that some folk just accept it and make no attempt to improve their lives out of some sort of futility or something."

"What do you think is the solution for Hilltop's problems?"

"Well, I think Columbus investing more in Hilltop and Westland, all the trouble zones too, like Franklinton, Linden, so on, would be a start. Columbus has been slowly increasing investments in the area for the past couple of years. Bringing in some employment would be helpful too. I think improving police and community relations would also help as well. But there's only so much the state can do, there has to be an initiative by the people in the community to use these resources too. As someone once told me a while ago, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make 'em drink."

Alvin chuckled and wrote the note down on his notepad. Finishing up capturing that tape, Alvin ended the capture and rewound the tape. As he stowed it away in its plastic case, he heard a tap come from his right. It sounded like something tapped on his window. Looking over his shoulder at the high up window on the wall, Alvin suddenly found himself staring at a grinning face.

"SURPRISE!"

Alvin screamed and jumped. He tripped and fell backwards, landing on his dresser, his tape tumbling through the air and landing on his bed. Alvin's hazel eyes were as large as saucer plates as he stared at his cousin Shakar, whose face was pressed against the glass of his window.

"You better give me that fuckin' money! My final warning!" the Rott shouted. He flashed his gun at Alvin, who immediately bolted.

Alvin ran from his bedroom to the open space in the basement, where Rob and Joey kept their firearms stored. Grabbing a hidden key, Alvin unlocked the display and yanked out the first gun he could get, Rob's Swedish K, a 9mm submachine gun. He grabbed a loaded magazine and slammed it in and ripped the charging handle.

The sound of a round being chambered made the Doberman freeze. Glancing down into the open chamber, Alvin spotted a polished 9mm sitting in the magazine, waiting to be loaded once he let the charging handle go. It made him get a icy shiver down his spine. He had access to Rob's gun safe only in "an extreme emergency". The Doberman let the charging handle go and the gun was armed with a "click" of the metal contacting.

Cautiously going upstairs, Alvin made his way to the door and looked through the peephole to find nobody around. He opened it up and stepped outside to find the evening quiet. There were tires marks on the road, from where Shakar clearly peeled out. Alvin was in too much of a panic to hear it.

The Dober looked around the wet yard, his paws tightly clutching his uncle's submachine gun. His chest rose and fell heavily from breathing hard. He looked down at the gun and just felt terrible at just the idea. He ran back inside and slammed the door shut and locked it. Putting his back against the door, he slid down to the ground and stared blankly at the china cabinet in front of him. Alvin felt backed into a corner and didn't know what to do. If he told Rob and Joey the situation, Rob would just escalate the problem as he always did, and ruthlessly take care of them. Alvin wanted them gone, not dead. And his uncles were facing enough problems as it was, between navigating their businesses in the pandemic, and operational problems. Especially Rob, as he tried and struggled to integrate his optics plant in Chicago with the larger "Barev World". Like it or not, Alvin didn't want to put any more burden on his family. He had to pay up to shut them up.

---

Making the arrangement to meet at the Tee Jays in town, Alvin stepped out of the bank with a bank envelope filled with two thousand dollars. $2000 of his own hard earned money. Looking regretful, Alvin walked slowly back to his Tahoe, his steps hesitant and slow. Monday morning was his uncle's thirty-ninth birthday, and he wasn't about to ruin it for him.

Getting into his Tahoe, Alvin sat with a blank expression on his face. He knew what he was about to do was horribly wrong. It was blatant extortion, with the threat of violence. The Doberman felt so conflicted, so upset, so helpless. He didn't like violence. But his cousin was willing to unleash whatever on them. Alvin shuddered in frustration and smacked his paws on the steering wheel multiple times. He started his Tahoe up and backed out in a huff. Tires squeaked on the pavement as he left for Tee Jays down the road on 21st Street.

As he drove, Alvin felt so much dread. He was pissed that over a quarter of his savings account would be ruined for Shakar. He wasn't about to ruin his uncle's birthday. But the feeling of guilt, the feeling of regret, stabbed at him constantly.

Pulling into the parking lot of Tee Jays, Alvin spotted Shakar's black Acura. He also saw Mary's sedan, a beat up silver Mercury. Mary, her lazy boyfriend Darius, and their other grandkid, Brandon, a thirteen year old Rott. Alvin felt his heart sink. He closed his eyes and shuddered as he stuffed the envelope into his shorts pocket.

This just couldn't go on.

Grabbing his phone, Alvin immediately texted his Uncle Joey.

"Help me." He sent.

"I made a terrible mistake. Shakar and them are threatening that if I don't give them money, they are going to wave violence on all of us. I am at Tee Jays. I need HELP! NOW!"

Alvin sent "HELP ME" again, to emphasize. Putting his phone away, Alvin got out, ready to confront his maternal side.

"Alvin!" came his grandmother Mary. "Alvin! I haven't seen yo ass in ages!"

Mary was in her late fifties now. She looked as though she had gained more weight, and had an unconvincing Afro textured wig on her head. A big smile was on her face as she limped, the consequence of the last encounter she had with Rob.

"Hi, Grandma." Alvin said quietly.

"Alvin! You don't ever talk to us, see us! Nothing!" Mary exclaimed. "Come on in!"

Alvin gulped and followed Mary and Shakar inside. They quickly got a booth and sat down and got some drinks ordered.

"Before we talk financial transactions... it's so nice to see you again." Chuckled Shakar with a cocky grin.

"Yeah." Alvin stared blankly. "You're only giddy 'cause you got me out numbered."

"That's 'cause I'm smarter." Shakar bragged.

"We'll see~" Alvin quipped. "Don't you think this is kind of a terrible thing to do? Take money extorting a family member who hasn't caused you trouble?"

"You are messin' on your turf, Alvin." Shakar pointed.

"You don't ever talk to us, nothing!" Mary exclaimed. "What did I do to deserve that?"

Alvin just pursed his lips.

"You just wanna be with that side, yo' uncle that killed your mama!"

"My 'mama' tried to get me killed, in case you forgot." Alvin reminded Mary. "Aim a gun at someone with a rifle, and they're gonna shoot."

"And you don't give a shit about that?"

"I mean, she kinda sealed her own fate... and perhaps I was too busy trying not to drown when thrown off a bridge..." Alvin sarcastically shrugged.

"You've changed, Alvin..." Shakar snapped.

"That's ironic." Alvin shrugged. "I feel I'm the same person as always."

"You don't wanna be like us." Mary pointed out. "You wanna act like those honky's- gettin' smart and actin' like you ain't from the hood. Well that's where you're from, Alvin! The hood! Hilltop! You're a nigga like the rest of us!"

"Please." Alvin chuckled. "I am who I am."

"People don't think of you like that~" Shakar pointed. "People look at you and think you're just like me with your clothes and hair style!"

"My pants don't sag."

"Motherfucker..." Shakar said with a smirk.

"You ain't like yo' real Dad, or yo' faggot ass uncles. People look at you like us."

"Heh, you can say that all you want, but I know who I am, and I don't care about what others think of me in appearance, I feel-"

"Enough of the fuckin' small talk, Alvin... gimme the money..." glared the Rott. Alvin sighed and grabbed the envelope from his pocket and threw it on the table.

"You're gonna one day regret doing-"

Alvin stopped when he heard his name being called. Spinning his head around, he saw his uncle Rob push past a waitress and march towards him. His scarred face looked visibly agitated, which made Alvin gulp at what was to come. He also saw some of uncle Joey's gunsmiths come pouring inside as well, taking up positions at the exits. Alvin sank into his seat some.

"Oh shit... Grandma..." Shakar muttered to Mary.

Rob walked up to the table looking enraged. A sort of smile curled up on his face in a twisted, sinister way.

"Oh... hello Mary... hello Shakar. It's...been a long time. What a displeasure to see you again..."

"Hope you don't mind that I sit here?" Rob said, sitting down next to his nephew. Alvin looked ashen faced, embarrassed and ashamed at the same time. Rob spotted the envelope with the two thousand dollars sitting on the table.

"It's been a long time Mary... I thought maybe I had scared you folks off back in 2014?" Rob asked in an amused tone. "Guess I'm wrong. And you... Shakar. I remember when you were a kid- you looked so cute and innocent, and now look at ya, I couldn't tell you apart from all the other fucking wannabe gangbangers in Columbus!"

Shakar turned to look at Alvin with an annoyed glare, upset that he had squealed on them.

"Rob this is none of yo' business." Mary glared at him.

"Oh yes it is." Rob responded. His voice remained calm and quiet. "Just in case you forgot... Alvin is my nephew..." Rob's eyes turned to glare at Shakar.

"I personally think it's pretty embarrassing that you're a grown ass adult, and you're trying to extort a seventeen year old teen for money. Why not pick on someone your own size? If you're that desperate for money..."

Rob reached down for his wallet. Mary and Shakar shuddered and raised their hands up off the table with a tremble as Rob grabbed his wallet and threw it on the table, next to the envelope. "Here, why don't you take my money? C'mon take it- since you already have Alvin's money..."

Mary glanced over her shoulder and realized only then that Rob had the whole restaurant blocked off. At the front entrance stood Joey and his gunsmiths Rick and Randy, and Trey Goodman stood by an emergency exit. Outside the windows stood Barev's security, the dreaded "Blackshirts" armed with AK-103's.

"Look at me Mary! Not them! Look at me!" Rob exclaimed louder. His face was unflinching and stone cold, a look of sinister satisfaction in his eyes.

Mary's lips quivered. "Ya know...just...just... have..."

Rob mocked her hesitance and stutter. "You done, Mary?"

"Yeah."

"You done? Good." Rob glared. He took a moment to size them up with his aggressive gaze. Mary and Shakar looked resigned to fate as Rob pointed at them.

"If I ever see your dumbasses come back here again... EVER. To take his money? I hope you bring a fuckin' pistol, Shakar. That way you have something of a chance. Be a man. Don't be a fuckin' thug."

Alvin sat in complete silence, watching his uncle verbally lash his grandmother and cousin.

"Now you wanna do be a favor cupcake?" Rob asked him. "Get the fuck outta here. Get your nigger ass up, and get it outta here, RIGHT NOW."

Shakar looked shocked at Rob's aggressiveness. As he tried to reach for the money, Rob jabbed his paw with a fork. The Rott quickly retracted his paw and rubbed it as he got up to leave.

"Stay here Mary..."

"Grandma you said this was gonna be easy, yo."

"Fuckin' piece of shit." Rob glared at him.

Shakar staggered away, his bleached moto jeans sagging down as he tugged them up a bit. He had no choice but to walk by Joey's men, who were limbering for a fight as they followed him out through the exit.

"Mary how pathetic can you be?" Rob asked her. "Extort a seventeen year old?"

Mary tried to find an excuse. "Given what's goin' on... and we need-"

"I don't give a shit what you need. You don't take money from my nephew. I told you motherfuckers back then to never come back, and here you are now." Rob glared.

"THAT IS MY GRANDSON!" Mary screamed. "And you faggots took him away!"

"I don't want to see you!" Alvin yelled.

"Yeah you care so much for Alvin you abused the shit outta him, just like you did to your own daughter you fat fucking bitch!" Rob yelled.

"I didn't abuse nobody!"

"You turned your daughter into a fucking prostitute you sick disgusting fuck!" Rob screamed. The whole restaurant was silent.

"Here Mary, I got a gift for you..." Rob pointed at the window.

"NOOOOOOO!" Mary screamed. She watched Shakar be chased by Rick and Randy, as Barev's security came charging up with batons. "NOOOOOO! NOOOOOO!"

Mary got up and ran for the entrance as fast as her overweight body could go.

Rob grabbed his wallet and the envelope of money. "Fuck 'em, Alvin. Let's go."

Rob walked with a confident swagger to his step as he exited Tee Jays. He saw Mary screaming and crying as her whole family got beat up in front of her. Rick, Randy and Trey, along with Barev's security dragged Darius, Tyrone, and Brandon from the Accord and just laid into them for an epic and brutal beat down. Alvin covered his mouth in shock, while Rob had an amused grin on his face.

"Alvin I want you to take your money back to the bank, and we're going to have a talk when we get home." Rob said. "Get in your SUV and go."

Alvin took the money and quickly ran to his SUV. Rob watched him quickly peel out onto 21st Street. Rob turned his attention back to watching the Marquees get beat up in front of Mary, who cried her eyes out. In a way, Rob thought of Mary as being just as much of a victim as she was a villain. She was simply the product of a vicious cycle of abuse; her father and uncle sexually and physically abused her as a child, and it was hinted that Sydney was the product of an incestuous relationship with her uncle. Mary was abused and raped, and in turn abused her children and grandchildren, and allowed Sydney to be abused by others as well. But Rob needed to make an example, and sympathetic observation or not, it was simply a means to an end to him.

"Shut the fuck up, Mary!" Rob shouted as he kicked her in the back. Mary flung forward, and the Rottweiler hit her head on the parking block. She was knocked unconscious instantly and was left lying on the pavement in a pool of blood around her head as Rob spat on the ground and walked away. "Fuckin' niggers."

Darius, Tyrone, Brandon, and Shakar were left on the pavement, bleeding and swollen from a ruthless beat down by Rob and Joey's guys. They all got into their vehicles and left, while others looked on in horror at the sheer ruthlessness.

Across 21st Street, cattycorner from Tee Jays was an optometrist's office. In the parking lot sat a black Dodge Charger, with dark tinted windows. One window was cracked somewhat, and a pair of binoculars peered out, observing the vehicles leaving and the Marquees lying bloodied on the ground. The binoculars were lowered, revealing the face of Special Agent Gary Dove, of the FBI. The middle-aged gray wolf, with tousled brown hair between his pointy ears, had an amused smirk on his face as he observed the ruthless actions of Rob Barion, his target.

---

Looking ashamed of himself, Alvin sat at the dinner table, with his uncles Rob and Joey standing on each side of him. Alvin looked so embarrassed as he sat in silence.

"Alvin, we're not upset at you." Joey said. "But what were you thinking?"

"Alvin, you can't pay someone off." Rob chimed in.

Alvin's paws trembled and he smacked them on the table in frustration. "I was with my friends, and we were videotaping, and then he showed up and were threatening us, and in another incident, pointed a gun at me. Shakar said they would leave all of us alone if I gave him two thousand bucks, or else they'd cause violence to us."

"Two thousand bucks?" Rob muttered. He looked at Joey and shook his head with a bemused smirk.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Uncle Rob and Joey- I just didn't want to have them come back and hurt anyone. There's so much going on, and I don't want any more chaos for you guys!"

"Alvin don't you ever worry about us~" Joey said, his voice sounding concerned.

"Alvin I really appreciate it, but you don't have to worry." Rob assured.

"I know, but I-"

"Look. Come here." Rob motioned. Alvin got up to stand before Rob, who put his paws on the young Dober's shoulders. "If you gave them the money, they'd simply come back and want more, and more, and more, in greater amounts, under the penalty of violence. You'd never win. That's why it's extortion."

Alvin pursed his lips and nodded, exhaling slowly.

Joey walked over and gave his nephew a hug.

"I hope they don't come back..."

"Well considering they just got the living daylights knocked out of them by a dozen guys..." Rob shrugged.

"I wish they would just disappear."

"That could be easily arranged." Rob grimaced.

"I know where a hog farm is at~" Joey smiled. "Just remember to knock their teeth out!"

Alvin took a step back. "Wait a sec- why knock their teeth out?"

"They eat everything but the teeth!" Joey teased. Alvin's eyes went huge.

"Whoa, that's morbid." Alvin cringed with a little hesitant laugh.

"Apparently a little bit of Rob is rubbing off on me~" Joey laughed. "People are exhausting these days..."

"I agree..." Rob grumbled.

"Go back and hang out with your friends, Alvin. And if you have any issues, just let me know, okay?"

"Okay." Alvin smiled. He gave Rob a hug, and Rob hugged him in return.

Alvin got up from the table, took a deep breath, and walked back to his bedroom. Joey and Rob just looked at each other with a head shake of disdain.

"What a birthday, Joey..." Rob grumbled.

---

Trading video cameras for 35mm, Alvin and Spencer hit the highway in mid-morning, ready to spend the day hanging out with their new friend Freddy. Merging onto Route 16 from the 11th Street onramp, Alvin punched the gas and quickly merged on to leave Newark eastbound. Spencer sat in the front seat, clutching a big box of "Vistachrome" film, a new film being developed by Rob's Chicago photochemical plant. It was a new formula of 135 film, which closely mimicked the look and feel of the discontinued Kodachrome film.

Driving along the highway, Alvin and Spencer both remarked at how muggy and hazy the mid-morning sky already looked. The humidity was really up there, and it was a sweltering morning already, with the thermometer nearing ninety by eleven. It was the third of August, the beginning of the dog days of summer.

"It looks hot outside." Spencer muttered to Alvin.

"That's why we're gonna go for a swim with Cy~" chuckled the Dober. "We complain about the heat now..."

"Yeah, come winter when we're freezing~"

"Ha, yeah."

"Nobody is ever happy."

"I always think of the start of August with a quote from Tuck Everlasting..." Alvin said as he glanced over to Spencer. "These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after."

"Hey I remember that book in sixth grade."

"Not a bad book if you ask me."

"Yeah." Chuckled the husky. He glanced and gave the box of film a shake, hearing the canisters rattle inside. "I hope this film works out well."

"I've seen some demo shots and it looks very nice. This is a tweak to the emulsion, so we'll see how she goes."

"Well we got plenty of film to play with." Spencer chuckled.

"It's gonna be a great day!"

Arriving at Freddy's house, Alvin and Spencer met up with Freddy, where they all started the day by jumping into the pond to swim for a few hours and stay cool. The pond was spring fed and the water clear and cold, with bluegill and other sunfish swimming amongst them as they bobbed in the calm water.

"I needed a nice day off after dealing with so much stupid." Freddy chuckled as he swam past Alvin. His long brown hair clung to his face, which the blonde wolf pushed away with a wet paw.

"What's your job like?" Spencer asked.

"I travel and mow people's lawns and trim bushes and hear people bitch about nonsensical problems." Freddy explained sarcastically. "People bitch about how you cut, the depth, what herbicides you use, the grain pattern when you crisscross cut yards, ugh, stupid shit."

"People are exhausting. We sometimes shoot commercials for businesses around town and it once in a while is a nightmare." Alvin laughed. "People think they're so smart and know what they want, when their ideas are an unmitigated disaster."

"If they know so much, they should do it themselves!" Spencer added.

"People are fucking stupid, and that's a global problem." Freddy shook his head. "Then you get the rich fucks out here with their giant garage Mahals and mile and a half yards, and you need a small army to get anything done in a reasonable amount of time. But eh, I'm good at what I do, and it's nice when your boss is your uncle."

"Now what you know, it's who you know~" Spencer pointed out.

"Yeah, exactly." Freddy laughed. "Gotta get my money in before I have to cut back my hours for school."

"This summer went by too fast." The husky remarked. "In a couple of weeks, we gotta go back to school."

"Thank god." Freddy muttered. "Get this fucking senior year over and done with, so I can get away from all these fucking retards I have to share oxygen with."

"I take it you don't like school?" Spencer asked."

"Oh no. I like school. I don't like sharing class with a bunch of inbred rednecks who have no interest in learning. That's the problem in this whole country, this chronic lack of intellectual curiosity! Nobody wants to learn, they just want to fucking be told what they want to hear. Comforting lies is what I call it."

Alvin had to agree. "Sadly" he remarked.

"That's like Darryl... he's the dumbest motherfucker next to Kayla." Freddy griped. "Darryl has no interest in learning anything, except for Nascar and booze. It's what he fucking sucks at anything he does. Well except knocking up girls and running away."

"You really don't like your parents do you?" Spencer asked.

"Why would I like people who didn't love me?" Freddy asked. "Look at me! I'm all stunted because Kayla never wanted to spend a dime to make sure I didn't go hungry! And neither did her piece of shit boyfriends who beat the shit out of me. One of them wouldn't let me eat anything unless we fought... and he'd beat my ass. So I'd have to get beat to eat something. What does that say?"

"Wow." Alvin shook his head.

"Kevin was his name. Fucking pathetic douchebag." Hissed the wolf. "Then you had Trayvon, who liked to beat and assault Kayla, and she just put up with it, because he gave her drugs. I had to beat him up to get him to stop raping her. And finally there was Jim, who tried to kill us."

"Oh my."

"Jim attacked Kayla with a baseball bat because Kayla stole money from him. And go figure I get hit... motherfucker broke a couple ribs and hit me over the head with the bat. I managed to get it from him and I broke his fucking kneecap!" laughed Freddy. "Fuck that sorry-ass dickhead!"

"Wow, Freddy... I don't know what to say." Spencer grimaced.

"You had bad parents... so you understand."

"My parents did a lot of drugs and would go crazy and abuse me, so yeah... but... nothing to that magnitude."

"This is why I'm all fucked up. And nobody in the Filton family, except Cy... and maybe his brother Ed... understand why I'm like this. My grandparents say I should just... let it go... like let go of all the abuse and resentment from it... just... move on! Like it never happened!"

"I mean... sometimes you have to." Alvin admitted. "I was very upset at my Dad for a long time, and the only way to get over it was to just accept it and move on."

Freddy listened, his face softening a bit.

"I know it's hard, and sometimes easier said than done, but you have to let go. Or else your anger is just gonna consume you and you'll turn into my uncle Rob... who denies himself happiness sometimes because he's so disgruntled from what had happened to him."

"Rob is very strong."

"Rob is very strong, yes, but deep down there's this pain that still drives what you see. He never got over what had happened in his past, and it's consumed him. Do you want to let what Darryl and Kayla did to you, or what they didn't do... do you want your past to haunt your present... to poison your future?"

"I don't feel like I have a future someday, I'll admit. I feel like I'm destined to be a loner."

"Then this is your chance to put that trauma to rest, to bury the tomahawk and seek peace."

Freddy sighed a bit. "It's hard."

"I know it's hard at times."

The wolf started to chuckle and burst out laughing. "You know it's hard?"

"I KNEW IT!" Alvin laughed. "Double entendre!"

"You walked right into it!" laughed Spencer with Freddy.

"Guilty then~" Alvin chuckled.

Getting out of the pond, the three dried off slowly on the deck with some towels.

"I have to say, I really like your hair, Freddy." Spencer complimented.

"Well thank you!" the wolf said with a genuine smile appearing momentarily. "It's not as nice as Cy's though. I wish I had Viking blood red hair like his!"

"It is very red."

"I got stupid Native American hair... all fucking oily..." Freddy grumbled. "I don't know what the fuck I am? I know through the Filton's I'm... English, Irish, and Norwegian... but the Montocks? I don't know... I think... like part German? Part Native American? Like Sioux, Lakota... I have no fucking clue... part whore?"

Alvin and Spencer laughed at the whore remark.

"I got generic northern European blonde hair that's straight and boring." Laughed Spencer. "Yay Swedish~"

"I got semi Afro texture, 'cause I'm mixed." Alvin chuckled.

"That's nice hair!"Freddy exclaimed. "It's got a nice texture!"

"It is nice, heh~" chuckled Alvin as he ran a paw through his locks. "I smell like pond... let's get a shower before we go to Woodbury."

"Agreed." Freddy and Spencer nodded. Everyone grabbed their towels and went inside to get cleaned up, before going on their next adventure.

---

The sun blared high above in the early afternoon sky. Cyan skies had puffy slow moving clouds that drifted overhead, casting patchy shadows on the swaying prairie. Tall grass swayed in the dry hot wind, the dull green grass interspersed with colorful wildflowers. Wild sunflowers gently swayed with some purple coneflower dotting the landscape. Burrs had bright purple flowers emerge on their thorny stalks. The silence of the prairie was broken by the subtle click of camera shutters firing.

Armed with Rob's Nikon F3, Alvin snapped a close up portrait shot of some sunflowers. He made an adjustment to his exposure, got a good focus, and fired the shutter with the click and whirr of the motor winding the film. Not far away from him, Spencer and Freddy, took photos on the nature trail. Alvin got up and took his hat off to wipe the sweat off his face. His curly locks of hair were soaking wet in sweat.

"This heat is starting to get to me, Alvin." Spencer huffed.

"Yeah, I agree~" Alvin nodded. He put his sweat stained baseball hat back on his head and walked over to Freddy, who stood getting a wide angle shot of the field. "What do you say, Freddo?"

"It's fucking hot." Freddy huffed.

"Wanna head back?"

"Yeah. Let's cool off."

Finishing their last photos, the trio turned back to walk along the Woodbury trail.

"We should do this more often." Freddy suggested. "Me and Cy like to do photos all the time. I find photography really fun."

"Yeah~ We should!" Alvin agreed with a smile.

"I want to get better with a video camera."

"We can help you out on that!" Spencer suggested.

"I'd appreciate it. Anything better than a piece of shit phone." The wolf rolled his eyes.

"Heh, the phone shoots better video than the analog cameras we like to use~" laughed Spencer. "With much less hardware!"

"Yeah, I was curious about that. You guys shoot Cy's landscaping stuff with those old things and all that gear."

"Tube cameras are fun." Alvin explained. "They have a nice character to them that you can't get on modern solid state cameras."

"They're fun but fickle." Spencer added. "You have to set them up just right or you'll damage the tubes, and different tube types have different behavior to them and handling."

"Interesting." Freddy nodded.

Alvin was about to say something when his phone went off. Alvin fumbled around for the phone to find Joey calling him. The Dober swiped to answer.

"Uncle Joey!"

"Hey Alvin, uhh, I just wanted to let you know that there's a problem."

"Oh?"

"Your idiot cousin, his dad, and some of their friends attacked Rob at the post office."

Alvin stopped in his tracks and froze up. "Uh oh."

"Rob being Rob, took everyone out. Three dead, eleven injured."

"Shakar?"

"Gunshot wound to the thigh. Tyrone died at the hospital."

"Oh no..."

"Rob is at the station being questioned by the police."

"I'll be right home!"

Alvin put his phone away and started running for the SUV. Spencer and Freddy looked at each other and took off running after him. "Wait up!" Freddy yelled.

"Alvin what happened!?" Spencer exclaimed as he ran.

"Rob got attacked!"

"What!?" Spencer shouted.

"My fucking cousin and his dad jumped Rob at the post office with their goons and Rob killed three of them and injured eleven."

"Awesome!" Freddy exclaimed.

"No! Not awesome!" Alvin exclaimed.

"Rob killed Shakar?"

"No, wounded."

"Oh lord..."

Rushing back to the Tahoe, Alvin jumped in, followed by Freddy and Spencer. Slamming the shifter into reverse, Alvin smoked the tires on the pavement as he took off in a hurry for the road. Feeling worry and panic setting in, Alvin rushed onto the road in a turn. Unbeknownst to him, a Sheriff's Deputy in his black and yellow Ford Explorer was accidentally cut off. The Sheriff's Deputy swerved and immediately turned his lights on and pursued. Alvin saw the flashing blue and white lights and immediately felt his heart sink.

"Oh god, Alvin..."

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Alvin pulled over and put his hazards on. The Explorer parked behind him and waited a few minutes. Alvin grumbled and moaned to himself as he got his wallet out to fetch his ID. Soon the Sheriff's SUV doors swung open, revealing two black clad Sheriff Deputies. Stepping up to the Tahoe was a middle-aged German Shepherd, black and brown, with a stern gaze on his face. His eyes were concealed behind very dark sunglasses.

"Identification please." The officer commanded in a curt way. Alvin handed him the ID gingerly.

"Care to explain why you cut me and my partner off on the road back there?"

"I uhh... I have a family emergency to tend to. My uncle was assaulted earlier in Newark."

"Uh huh. Sure." The deputy responded. "I need to see vehicle registration please."

"Why?"

"Vehicle. Registration. Now."

"It's in the glovebox."

Alvin started to reach for the glovebox, when the Deputy suddenly panicked. "HEY!" he screamed, grabbing his service pistol and aiming it at Alvin. "OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR! OUT OF THE CAR!"

"What? What?" Alvin shouted in a panic. His eyes went huge to a gun being pointed at him. He panicked and put his arms down, only to suddenly have the Deputy reach in and grab him by the throat. Alvin was lifted from his seat, as Spencer and Freddy responded.

"Hey! HEY!" Freddy screamed.

The other deputy smashed out the windows a fired pepper spray at Freddy and Spencer, incapacitating them. Spencer fell back onto the seat, screaming as he was blinded immediately. Freddy fought back, blinded and streaming tears as he was yanked out and thrown onto the ground.

Alvin was thrown out through the window of his SUV and pinned to the ground by the deputy, who slammed his knee into Alvin's throat. He was pinned to the pavement and gasped for air.

"I...can't... breathe...." He gasped. The Dober could not get any air, and struggled to free himself.

"STOP RESISTING!" screamed the cop. He grabbed his baton and started to hit Alvin in the head with it. Blow after blow struck Alvin in the head and upper back. Alvin yelled in pain and broke free from the deputy's knee. His mind shut down, and the Dober was only in survival mode. The deputy grabbed Alvin and punched him repeatedly in the face. He struck him multiple times and pepper sprayed him. Freddy and Spencer could hear the blow after blow as Alvin was struck by the enraged deputy.

"STOP RESISTING!" he screamed.

"C'mon Bill, stop!" his partner yelled. The Dalmatian looked increasingly concerned at the rage the German Shepherd showed. He ran over and physically restrained his partner, just as he kicked Alvin in the chest, which knocked the Dober unconscious.

"What the fuck you doin'!?" the Dalmatian screamed. "You're gonna kill him!"

"We got 'em! We got the suspect we were looking for!" the Shepherd exclaimed.

"What the fuck is your problem Bill!?"

"We got 'em!"

---

Screeching into Licking Memorial Hospital's parking lot, an infuriated Rob sped up to the overhang of the Emergency Department. The moment his tires came to a stop, he slammed the shifter into park and hopped out of his red Tahoe, looking red faced enraged. A few seconds later, his husband Joey showed up, along with Joey's parents, Andrew and Marie Paulo. Everyone jumped out and rushed in through the sliding glass doors of the ER. A few minutes later, a black Dodge Charger pulled up, revealing the face of Special Agent Gary Dove. The gray wolf was in town, interrogating Rob after hearing the report of a shooting at the post office, a federal building.

Pushing past nurses and doctors, Rob marched to where his nephew was being held at. The dark blue mask on his muzzle could barely conceal the rage on Rob's scarred face. His eyes were lit up in fury, and he walked with a fast, aggressive pace. Alvin was being treated for his injuries under police surveillance, having been arrested for "resisting arrest". Rob couldn't believe it, of all people, his nephew? Rob was so furious he wanted to strangle them all.

Rounding the bend, Rob found his nephew in a hospital bed, his face severely bruised and his eyes practically swollen shut. He was handcuffed to the bed, under guard by several Newark cops, and the two Sheriff's Deputies. Rob stood at the entrance to his room, looking in shock at how badly hurt his nephew was.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Rob shouted. "What the fuck did you fucking pigs do to him!"

"Calm down, calm down." A cop motioned with a flippant sway of his paws.

"No I will not calm down! Look what you did to my nephew!" yelled Rob. His husband approached and gasped out loud at Alvin's injuries.

"Uncle Rob!" Alvin shouted.

"Shut up!" the Deputy shouted.

"Hey!" Joey shouted. "Don't you talk to my nephew like that! What the fuck did you all do!?"

"Your nephew and his automobile fit the profile of a suspect Coshocton County was searching for, in regards to a break-in, assault, and grand theft auto. He was pulled over, and apprehended when he refused to comply with orders." The German Shepherd explained to Rob. The wolf-hybrid looked at him with a complete look of disbelief on his face.

"I don't buy that for one second. My nephew not complying?"

"I ordered him to comply with his registration of the vehicle, when I suspected he was reaching for a gun, and I feared for my life." The deputy explained.

"You feared for your life... with my nephew... someone who is the least violent motherfucker around." Rob said with a laugh at the end. "You feared for your life?"

"I did. And I appropriately responded to the escalation."

Rob looked at his nephew being tended to by Joey and his grandparents, and looked back at the cop. Rob just smirked. "You must really think I'm a dumb muddafucka huh?"

"Hold up here!" came Agent Dove, who walked up with his badge in hand. "What happened?"

"Agent Dove!" the Deputy exclaimed. "We have a teenager who resisted arrest."

Dove looked over at Alvin's injuries. "So you have a teen who resisted arrest, and you guys beat him worse than Rodney King? I think you have a big misunderstanding of this situation..."

Over their radios, dispatch radioed in the capture of the suspect they had been looking for, which made Rob shake his head in disdain.

"Unbelievable."

"I initiated the stop because your nephew cut me off on the highway."

"He panicked when he heard I was shot at..." Rob glared.

"And your nephew fit the profile of the suspect we were looking for. His hairdo and clothing looked similar."

"Oh so you're thinking that my nephew is just some regular 'ole garden variety nigger, out looking for trouble huh?"

"No, I didn't, now you're trying to pin me-"

"Well what the fuck is this! Sending him to the damn hospital. You big ass fucking pigs can't even handle a slender ass teenager? You call this reasonable?" Rob yelled. "You guys damage his new SUV, you beat the shit outta him, and you try and tell me with a straight face this is reasonable?"

Rob was so angry he shoved the Deputy into the wall. Other cops soon swarmed Rob.

"HEY! THAT'S STRIKING AN OFFICER!"

"Oh you think that's striking an officer?"

BAM!

Rob swung around and struck Bill square in the muzzle. His fist made constant and instantly sent the German Shepherd into the wall, where he fell onto the ground, knocked unconscious. Rob shoved two other cops away and was instantly hit by another, who got shoved back as well. Rob was physically picked up and restrained by multiple officers as Dove stepped in to deescalate the rapidly unfolding crisis.

"MY NEPHEW IS NOT A FUCKING NIGGER YOU FUCKING PIGS!" Rob screamed.

"STOP IT! LET HIM GO!" Dove commanded.

Rob was dropped onto the ground and made to back away from the other cops by Dove. The tension in the hospital ER was so thick that one could cut it with a knife. Cops with paws on their holstered guns, Rob seething in rage, being held back by an FBI agent. Joey and his family looking on in shock and disgust.

Nurses helped the injured deputy up. His black muzzle dripped blood as he clutched his slack jaw. It was clear that Rob had broken his jaw pretty good. He looked dazed from the punch. Rob watched him be taken away to be treated.

"Uncle Rob..." Alvin muttered. "Uncle Joey..."

Rob pushed past Dove and knelt down to see his nephew. The Dober laid sitting somewhat up, his eyes practically swollen shut. His left paw was handcuffed to the bed.

"Alvin, I'm here." Rob said, his voice full of concern.

"Uncle Rob...I can't see... I can't see you..."

Rob grasped his nephew's paw and held it. Joey knelt down and held his paw as well. "We're here, Alvin."

"Uncle Rob and Joey... I don't know what happened... I just... I panicked when you called me about Rob being shot at by my cousin... and I didn't see the deputy... all I did was reach for the registration in the glove box and he... pulled a gun on me and ripped me out of the vehicle through the window... and the other deputy smashed out the others and pepper sprayed Freddy and Spencer..."

The Dalmatian deputy fumbled his brow and looked down at the floor with a hint of regret on his face. He turned and quickly left.

"Put his knee on my neck and I couldn't breathe... so I guess I just struggled to try and get my breath and he just went bizerk?"

Joey and Rob looked at each other. Rob glanced up at Dove, who pursed his lips in thought.

"Where's Freddo and Spence at?"

"Probably being treated for being pepper sprayed." Joey said.

"Ah. You know... it hurts to breathe... I got kicked pretty hard in the chest."

"Unbelievable..." Dove muttered. "So this is a case of mistaken identity and ridiculously excessive force."

"I'm not gonna let them get away with this..." Rob said with a very stern gaze on his face. "This will not go unpunished."

"Everything hurts..." Alvin moaned.

After a tense couple of hours in the emergency room, including another shouting match between Rob and Joey and members of the Licking County Sheriff's Office, Alvin was treated for his injuries and released, with the charge of "felonious assault of an officer" dropped. The whole Rob punching and breaking the jaw of a sheriff's deputy was quietly swept under the rug by the efforts of Dove, who threatened an FBI investigation into the LCSO. Rob planned to sue, and his attorney was working on the paperwork after a furious phone call. Freddy and Spencer were treated for exposure to pepper spray, and all potential charges for them were dropped as well. They were released to go back home. Freddy went home with Cyrus, and Spencer was picked up by his adopted parents, Varg and Lily Eikemo.

Stepping into the lobby, Alvin was carried back to Rob's SUV by Andrew. Holding onto his burly grandfather, Andrew quickly carried him back to the red Tahoe, where he was gently placed inside the backseat. Marie quickly joined him as they got back to their vehicles to head back home. Alvin, his face bruised and black and blue, sat quietly as Marie held him in her embrace. Rob said not a word as he went home.

---

By nightfall, Joey carried Alvin back to his bedroom. Rob turned on the lamp to their bedroom and helped Joey lay Alvin in the middle of their queen sized bed. Alvin let out a grunt of discomfort as he laid his head on some pillows. Joey and Rob climbed into bed with him and held him while the room filled up with Andrew and Marie. Andrew carried a couple ice packs with him as he handed them to Rob and Joey, who gently placed them on Alvin's swollen up eyes. The young Doberman groaned a bit in discomfort to the old.

"It's cold, Alvin, but it will help the swelling." Rob comforted. "Oh my poor Alvin."

"Just rest~" Joey calmly said.

The room was quiet as everyone took in the magnitude of what had happened.

"I thought I was going to die." Alvin admitted. "When I could barely get any air. I thought I was gonna be the next George Floyd."

"Over my dead body." Rob shook his head.

"Thank God you're alive, Alvin!" Marie exclaimed.

"All because I accidentally cut the deputy off. Mistaken identity! Ha!" Alvin said, laughing sardonically. "Mistaken identity! That's because I look the part!"

"Oh no Alvin, it can't be that!" Marie exclaimed.

"Grandma! Ever since I changed my clothes... and grew my hair out... all this started." Alvin snapped. Joey gently restrained Alvin to calm him down.

"Easy, Alvin."

"You know what? When I get better these bruises go down, I'm getting this damn mop shaved off and going back to the short hair, because nobody gave me problems when I didn't look like a thug!"

"Oh no, Alvin! No! Don't do that!" Rob exclaimed. "Now you have a very pretty head of hair!"

"Apparently I got nigger hair or something. The crazy bitch at the studio calling the cops on me for being on the roof! The gas station clerk! Now me getting the shit beat out of by a cop. Oh my lord, I can't believe a fucking cop went off and just beat me like a drum!"

"Easy! Easy!" Rob said. He gently stroked the top of Alvin's head. "I know you're very upset. I know you're in pain."

"I want to cry, but my eyes aren't working~" Alvin admitted.

"They're not getting away with this at all...mark my words." Rob assured him. "They're gonna pay!"

The doorbell rang and Marie went to go answer it. Soon the bedroom grew more crowded as Spencer and Freddy came to visit, with Cyrus, Varg, and Lily. They all gasped at Alvin's condition.

"You're not shaving your head, Alvin. We're not going full Britney~" Joey chuckled. "You're not gonna change your wardrobe or nothing, because that's what they want. That's what bigots want, and that's bullshit."

"Don't change because of others." Rob added. "You wanted to update you... and that's perfectly fine."

"Alvin it's not your fault." Freddy shook his head. "So don't blame yourself. Blame the dumbass with the badge."

"Yeah that wasn't your fault." Spencer comforted. "So don't beat yourself up."

"Don't worry, Deputy Parsons did that for me~"

"He'll be out of work for a while." Chuckled Rob.

"Rob, I can't believe you punched a deputy..." Marie scolded.

"Why? I don't give a shit about that badge~" Rob muttered. "Cops are fucking useless anyways. They're just a bunch of ego stroking tough guys who think they're all that with their shiny little badge. Fucking bootlickers is what they are. Along with the maggots who worship them."

"Easy, Rob~" smiled Joey.

"Sorry. I'm upset..." Rob said, shaking his head. "This makes me so upset... and they're gonna pay..."

Unable to see his friends and family, Alvin at least appreciated their company as he laid in bed with his uncles, under a discomforting haze of pain.

---

Getting beat up by a Sheriff's Deputy really shook Alvin to his core. The ruthlessness of officialdom, all over an accident and a mistaken identification. The idea that he came so close to a legal charge that could have easily destroyed his life and future progress, the idea that he could have easily have died at the hands of the deputy, and now his name being on a multi-million dollar lawsuit to challenge a law enforcement department. It was a complex feeling of anger, anxiety, and fear. Alvin felt as though the lawsuit put a target on his back. To twist the knife further, he felt he had an even larger target on his back from his maternal family. He feared revenge from Mary for the death of Tyrone, and the arrest of Shakar on attempted murder charges.

It was three days after the assault, and Alvin laid low at home. The swelling and bruising had subsided enough that he could see once again, and despite the occasional bouts of discomfort, the young Dober continued working from home, while dealing with all the legal mumbo jumbo.

In his editing room, Alvin sat at his ancient Aptiva, typing a statement for his lawyer, Lisa Scheiddegger. Behind him, his modern desktop ran at full power rendering a half-hour 4K training video for a local business. The room was filled with the mechanical click-clack of his gray and black Model M keyboard. Alvin typed like a professional, his fingers swiftly punching out what he had experienced in the incident. Just as he finished up, the phone rang. Alvin paused, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

Since the assault, the landline had been blown up by a barrage of callers. From ambulance chasers looking for a quick buck, to civil rights and police brutality groups looking for a poster boy to their cause, it was an endless barrage that felt overwhelming to the Dober, who wanted his privacy respected. Someone found out about what happened and it leaked to the local newspaper, and from there, it snowballed.

Rotating around in his office chair, Alvin got up and grabbed the phone, finding to his relief his attorney calling him.

"Good morning Misses Scheiddegger~"

"Good morning, Alvin~ Heh, heh, you can just call me Lisa~" came the voice of Lisa Scheiddegger, the ruthless attorney of his uncle and his business. "Hey, I was just calling because I need you to stop into the office later and sign some documents."

"I also have the statement I'm finishing up." Alvin said as he engaged the speakerphone mode to resume typing. He finished up his last paragraph and quickly hit "ctrl+P" to engage the print dialog box. Smacking the enter key, the old LaserJet stirred awake with its jet like spool up, and slowly spat out his statement, the pages warm from the fuser. "And done."

"How are you feeling by the way?"

"Sore, but less sore than the day before. And my vision is back."

"That's good, Alvin~"

Alvin shoved a paperclip to hold the pages together, and signed and dated the upper right corner with a blue rollerball. "Tell you what, I'll be over in a little while. I gotta do a couple things, and I'll be over."

"Sounds good, Alvin. I'll be here!"

"Take care. Bye!"

Alvin ended the call and put the phone back on the receiver, when it rang again. The Dober sighed and answered it.

"Hello."

Hello, may I speak to Alvin Paulo?"

"Speaking."

"Hi Alvin, my name is Marty Schneiderman, of Young, Daniels, Schneiderman, and Parsons attorneys of law out of Dayton. I heard you were involved in a police brutality case, and I am willing to fight on your behalf!"

"I appreciate the offer, but I am already legally represented. Thank you. Bye."

Alvin hung up and placed the phone back on the receiver. Looking over at his modern desktop, he found the video finished and completed. Alvin opened the file explorer and copied the completed video file and put it on Barev's cloud server. He opened the Telegram chat up with Marcus Barion to let him know that he was transferring a copy of the finished video for him to review. Marcus sent an acknowledgement with a thumbs-up emoji. Saving his work one final time, he closed out of the editor program and locked Windows 10 up. He turned around to save his word document on the Aptiva. It was a world of difference that always made the Dober chuckle; from his octa-core Ryzen workstation with 64GB of memory, to the Aptiva running Windows 98 on a measly 233Mhz Pentium Two and 128MB of memory.

The doorbell rang, getting Alvin's attention. He shut the Aptiva down and quickly went upstairs to answer the door. Not sure of what to expect in uncertain times, Alvin opened the door to reveal Special Agent Gary Dove. The gray wolf with tousled brown hair stood in black slacks and a tucked in blue polo shirt with "FBI" embroidered on the breast in yellow.

"Good morning Mister Paulo!" Dove greeted in a formal way. "Do you mind if I step in and ask you a couple of questions?"

Alvin stood at the doorway with a blank stare momentarily. "You must put a lot of miles on your vehicle for the amount of times you come to Newark?"

"State secrets~" he joked as Alvin let him inside. "I've come just to... try and make sense some more of what happened on Tuesday, as part of an FBI inquiry into conduct of the LCSO."

"Really?" Alvin said, sounding surprised.

"Well, I'm not part of it, due to conflicts of interests, but they asked me to come and talk to you about it." Dove explained.

"Can I offer you a pop or anything?" Alvin asked.

Dove took a seat at the dinner table, and Alvin returned with two glass bottles of orange Fanta. He took a seat on the opposite side of the table.

"So first off, before we get into official business, how are you feeling?"

"Well, less sore." Alvin said, mustering a smile. "And having one's vision back is a nice thing."

"You got pretty banged up there." Dove nodded as he got his audio recorder and notepad ready.

"You could say that~" chuckled Alvin as he took a sip of his drink. "It was...a really scary experience."

"I can imaging so." Dove nodded as he engaged the record button. "So tell me Alvin, what happened?"

Alvin reiterated to Dove about the incident; he had panicked when he got the news that Rob had been attacked, and left the Woodbury Reserve in a rush and accidentally cut off a Sheriff's Deputy, who then pulled him over. He described the Deputy as a "rather rude and curt person", who ordered him to show his vehicle registration. He then "flipped out" and pulled his gun and yanked Alvin through the window. The other deputy smashed out the windows and pepper sprayed his friends. Alvin didn't remember much of the struggle on the ground, only the memory that he couldn't get his breath. The next thing he knew, he was in the emergency room under guard and handcuffed to the seat. Dove listened, nodded here and there, and took notes on his notepad.

"The report from Deputy Bill Parsons indicates that he thought you had a gun and he had reacted."

"Reacted is a bit of an understatement."

"The report also stated that he was under the impression that you were the suspect that was ultimately caught, because he saw a similar silhouette, including a matching hair profile, and vehicle description" Dove added. "I must remark that when I looked into Parsons' career with the LCSO, he had been a member for six years, and already had several reports of aggressive interactions with people. These issues were simply kept within official channels."

"Lovely." Alvin rolled his eyes.

"How does this make you feel, Alvin?"

"Well... frustrated." The Dober admitted. "I try and think of myself as a level headed person. But this was just wanton violence by someone who overreacted about a situation? Like I could see this if I was like, violent? But I literally was grabbing the registration paperwork that he demanded, and then I get beat up, and my Tahoe damaged. And they can't get the parts in because of apparently shortages...so now my Tahoe just has to sit at the dealership until they get the new parts in to replace the damn windows... because two deputies flipped out and got scared!"

Dove reached over and turned his audio recorder off. "Even us law enforcement are vulnerable to ignorant mistakes and lapses in judgment."

"Apparently so~" Alvin quipped as he shook his head slowly. "Rob always says that all the wrong people become police officers- adrenaline junkies and wanna be beta males looking to assert their dominance via a badge."

"Heh, heh. I'm sure Rob says lots of things." Dove chuckled sarcastically. He reached back over to turn the recorder back on. "I have one more question for you, Alvin. Uhh, would you say this was a discriminatory attack? Or, that bigotry, and profiling had a part in this?"

"Yes." The Dober nodded. "I was told that they thought I looked like the suspect they were after because of 'my hairdo'." He pointed to his curly locks of hair. "I didn't think this would cause me so much trouble, Dove!"

The gray wolf nodded while jotting down a note.

"Two years ago, I started to grow my hair out. My hair is pretty straight looking when it's really short, but then when you grow it out, it gets these really nice tight curls, because it's kind of Afro textured. Ya know, being mixed. When I had short straight hair, nobody ever said a thing, but apparently when you grow it out like this, and wear tanktops and moto jeans, everyone suddenly looks at you differently. Like you're those troublemakers who drift in from Columbus. It's so upsetting. Like I climbed up onto the roof of my studio to reset the circuit breaker, and this crazy lady called the cops on me... I get accosted by a gas station clerk and my pockets patted down to make sure I didn't steal a candy bar? And then getting the snot beat out of me by a sheriff's deputy. All because I look like this?"

Alvin sighed. "I wanted to just shave this off, and just forget about it, but my uncles said no. And I guess it would giving in to what others wanted."

Dove agreed with that sentiment. "I wouldn't if I was were you, because that's simply giving in to what bigots want. But unfortunately profiling does happen, whether condoned or not, or consciously or subconsciously, but it happens. Sometimes criminals fit the 'look', it's unfortunate, but it is what it is."

"I guess that's why there's stereotypes?" Alvin said with a cynical laugh.

"Unfortunately." Dove chuckled. He reached over to turn his recorder off again. "I'll tell you a personal family story, one I don't really tell too many people."

"What's that, Dove?"

"Your talk about your hair and people's perceptions of it, made me kinda think about my family's trials and tribulations when they emigrated from Hungary."

"Your family is Hungarian?"

"The name doesn't give it away, right?" Dove laughed. "The name 'Dove' is our Americanized name. Our original name was 'Szabo', and we were from the city of Egor. Harri Szabo was my great-grandfather, and my grandfather and grandmother were Istvan and Constance Szabo. When the war ended, and the Soviets took Hungary, my family scraped together every single penny they could and got out. They moved to the United States in 1946. They went and moved to the Chicago area, where there were other Hungarians. We settled in Gary Indiana since my great-grandfather and grandfather both worked in the steel industry. They managed to get the perfect lives that they wanted, but it came at a cost. They had to give up their Hungarian customs and literally their names, to fit in. Harri Szabo became 'Harry Dove', my grandfather, from Istvan to 'Isaac', and Constance to 'Connie'. They picked the name Dove, because it was easy to pronounce. But it never exactly sat right with them, and I remember my grandpa telling me that right before he died. He said that it wasn't fair that he had to 'play a part' to fit in with American society. He felt like he was acting or something with the Americanized name. My father and myself were the first and second generation Hungarian-Americans, so we fit right in. Ryan Dove, and then me... named after my hometown... Gary."

"Who would name anyone after that city?"

"Gee, thanks Alvin!" Dove exclaimed with a laugh. "...I say the same thing too."

Alvin and Dove had a laugh together.

"But what I'm trying to get at, and I know it's a different thing than what you've experienced, but you shaving that hairdo off to not draw attention to yourself is no different than people expecting my grandparents to 'act American'. It's something different, and stands out, and people want to snuff it out, and it's wrong. It was wrong for people to just look at you and think you're a gangbanger, a thug."

"Yeah." Alvin nodded. "I'm just frustrated, and I don't know what to do about it."

"That's completely understandable."

"And I'm someone who isn't really interested in drawing attention to myself, and all these people want me to have interviews, and talk about what happened, and yada, yada, and I just don't want to? And people act surprised? It was a messed up attack, and I am pursuing my legal options in restitution. That's all. I don't seek revenge because when you do that, you better dig two graves~"

"You do what you feel is best Alvin."

"Exactly. Like, I don't have a problem with law enforcement, even if I disagree with some police tactics, and attitudes, especially after George Floyd, and all the others killed under questionable circumstances. But I'm not gonna take the absolute 'cops are evil' approach. That's just me. Others can feel as they please, but that's not me. But apparently to some that makes me some kind of Uncle Tom~"

"Nevermind the peanut gallery." Chuckled Dove. "The same people who call all of us bastards, usually are the ones running to us when things hit the fan~ But, that's our job, and we'll do it. But I will say as a member of federal law enforcement, it doesn't mean I'm just accepting of misconduct. We hold this badge as an honor, and should be held to standard. And if you don't make the mark? You shouldn't carry this badge. Just my two cents."

"Agreed."

"Well Alvin, I best let you be carrying on with your day here. I thank you for your time, and I'll keep in touch if anything comes up. And...tell Rob I said 'hi'~"

"I'm sure Uncle Rob will be tickled." Alvin said with a small smile on his face.

"Always." Dove chuckled.

"Oh~ Would you like a copy of my statement that I'm sending to my lawyer?"

"Sure!"

Alvin handed his copy to Dove, who gladly accepted it. They shook each other's paw one final time before Dove departed. Alvin watched from the window as Dove backed out and drove off in his black Charger. Alvin looked at the time and went back downstairs to print himself another copy of his statement.

---

Stepping out onto the back patio and locking the sliding glass door, Alvin very gently donned his dark aviator sunglasses. They helped hide the worst part of the bruising. Carrying a fresh copy of his statement for his attorney, Alvin stepped down off the porch and walked to his temporary whip, his uncle's flatbed Silverado. Sitting in the driveway was Rob's bright red dual-rear wheel 2019 3500HD, a crew cab Chevy truck with a bright aluminum flatbed on the back. He used it to tow his fifth wheel trailer when needed. The truck served alongside a standard long bed single-rear-wheel 3500HD, and his Tahoe, all in the same bright cherry red. Alvin climbed aboard the stuffy ebony interior and fired the Duramax up. He got the AC going full blast and took off down the driveway for the road.

Hopping onto Granville Street, Alvin made his way downtown. Rumbling down the road, he watched the landscape of Newark gradually grow more dilapidated as he approached the downtown. From his nice, cozy region of the Krebs Addition in Newark, the downtown region was ringed by old, unkempt homes. Cars parked on the side of the road grew more beat up and old the further he got. Cutting across on Third Street, Alvin turned onto Church Street and approached the large courthouse square roundabouts. Slowing up for a red light, Alvin spotted protestors at the city building. People holding signs against police brutality and the LCSO marched beneath the cold brutalist building. Alvin sank low in his seat as the light turned green and drove on by. He glanced down the road at the police station to see further protestors across the street. It made the Dober slightly upset that such an incident couldn't be kept quiet. Going into the large roundabout around the square, Alvin saw even more protestors, and some members of the media. "Oh my god..." Alvin thought to himself. All of this because of his incident?

Lisa Scheiddegger's office was located on the north end of the square, squished between the Midland Theatre and a jewelry store. Alvin pulled into a parking space at the curb, and hopped out with his paperwork. He very quickly made his way inside to her office.

Lisa's office was on the second floor of the old brick building. Her office was spacious, with a wall of windows that overlooked the downtown square. Natural light filtered in as Alvin sat at her desk, opposite of Lisa herself. Lisa was a middle aged German Shepherd, with a curly perm of light brown hair that was cut to her neck area. She wore a gray business suit over a white blouse, and dark gray slacks. Even in a moment of calm, Lisa looked assertive in her legal acumen. She was a ruthless attorney with a track record of success for her clients. She and her husband Paul were partners in the law firm and were as brutal and ruthless as Rob, which earned her the nickname of "Mrs. Rob Barion".

"That's exactly what we needed, Alvin." Lisa said, looking up. "This is a great statement."

"What can I say?" Alvin smiled with a shrug.

"You should come work in our office~" Lisa joked with a chuckle as she put it in Alvin's case file.

"Sorry Lisa, Rob needs me~" Alvin joked.

"Well damn." She laughed.

Alvin took fifteen minutes to talk to Lisa about the "navigation" of the lawsuit. Lisa was honest and upfront; litigation could take a long time, and there was a high chance that a favorable settlement could be reached. Alvin admitted that he would be content "either way". Lisa also talked about the other court case, "Licking Co. v. William Parsons", about Deputy Parsons. He was fired from the LCSO for "multiple disciplinary actions and behavior unbecoming of a Deputy". He was arrested and rather ironically charged with felonious assault with a deadly weapon. Alvin got some paperwork to sign, copies were made, and Alvin left after twenty minutes with a packet of legalese tucked under his arm.

Going down the steps to the exit, Alvin stepped outside to suddenly be blindsided by a rush of people. Looking startled, Alvin suddenly found himself staring down cameras, reporters, and well-wishing protestors. Flash guns fired at a startled Alvin, who had microphones shoved into his face by reporters from Columbus, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Toledo, and even CNN!

"Mister Paulo! Mister Paulo! Can we ask you some questions!?"

"Mister Paulo, how are your injuries? You are suing the Sheriff's Department, right?"

"Do you see this as a further quest for justice in police brutality!"

"Do you support black likes matter, Alvin!"

"What is the monetary amount you are seeking!?"

Alvin tried to push his way towards the truck. He practically got hit in the head with a microphone as he walked with the swarm of people. "Please respect my privacy, and yes, I am suing."

"What is your opinion about law enforcement actions?"

"Do you see this as another battle for justice for African-Americans?"

"Oh my lord- please! Give me space! Leave me alone!" Alvin protested. "This is a private matter!"

"Yo you got attacked by the pigs man!" shouted a protestor.

"It was a stupid mistake and I'll leave it at that. I do not hate law enforcement."

"Man, what are you? A fuckin' Uncle Tom?"

Alvin pointed. "HEY! Watch yourself."

Getting flustered and feeling overwhelmed, Alvin quickly unlocked the truck and nearly threw himself inside. The Silverado was swarmed by people who continued to yell and fire off photos of him. Alvin frantically put the key in the ignition and popped the shifter into reverse. He backed up, people scattering away as he maneuvered out onto the road. He couldn't get the column shifter into gear fast enough when he put his foot to the floor and spun the four back tires in a panic. The Silverado peeled out down North Park Place. Alvin rushed around the roundabout and fled down Third Street.

His heart pounding in his chest, Alvin had both paws bracing the steering wheel with great intensity. His chest rose and fell from his rapid breathing. He hadn't had an anxiety attack like that since he got assaulted. It was like he didn't even know what hit him; one minute it was calm, and all of a sudden a tsunami of reporters and well meaning protestors swarming him. He felt even more frustrated at what he felt was a private matter, being thrust into the public. Alvin figured this was his moment to get his "fifteen minutes of fame", whether he wanted it or not! As he calmed down, his mood turned to annoyance at being called an "Uncle Tom". The more he thought about it, the more it stung. He certainly did not consider himself an "Uncle Tom", a passive drone taking orders without question, and subservient to appease bigots. Alvin pondered just how he got himself in the position he was in. The light turned green and Alvin gunned it through the intersection to escape from the chaos.

Going past the post office and making a left, Alvin pulled over into a gravel lot beside the expressway. He felt so exasperated over the insult that he needed to stop and take a breather. Grabbing his phone, Alvin called his Uncle George, for some advice.

"Delaware County Juvenile Corrections Center, Mary speaking, how may I direct this call?"

"Good morning, may I speak to George Marquee?"

"One second. Transferring."

There was a faint click, and the sound of the call being transferred. The phone rang three times.

"Good morning, George Marquee speaking~"

"Uncle George? It's Alvin."

"Oh Alvin!" his uncle responded happily. "How are you doing Alvin? How are you feeling?"

"Not great, but not bad. Holding on." Alvin said with a cynical chuckle. "Do you have a moment we could talk? I... need some advice."

"Sure, sure, what's going on, Alvin?"

"I was leaving my attorney's office and all of a sudden I got ambushed by all these reporters, cameramen, protestors. Like a tidal wave of people just swarming like I kicked a hornet's nest. It was just pure bombardment. And some protestor made a stupid comment- calling cops pigs, and I simply said I don't hate law enforcement, and got called an 'uncle Tom'." Alvin explained. "I don't consider myself an uncle Tom. I consider myself someone who doesn't take absolutes."

"Well that's not very nice." George responded.

"I feel... I feel conflicted right now, over everything that happened. Like I get it... there's a lot of problems with cops, and law enforcement practices. But I cannot just blanket hate cops, because that's just thinking in black and white, or A or B... I just can't do that."

"I understand completely." George acknowledged. "I was called an uncle Tom took when I got out of prison. By my own sister, because I chose to turn my life around and get smart. She said I was being a uncle Tom for that. It's a silly insult to be honest. Here's my advice for you Alvin- you do what you feel is right, and don't let others sway your opinion. The person who called you that is upset, because these incidents keep happening. He's upset that the system keeps failing people, and he's just taking it out on you. So don't take it personally."

"I guess." Alvin frowned as he looked over his shoulder.

"Alvin I want you to understand that if that's what you believe, then that's fine."

"I at least want my privacy respected..." Alvin pointed out. "I didn't even want this to come out... and somehow it got out, and there's people picketing at the city building, at the square, at the police station... and I'm so embarrassed getting all this attention dumped on me. This is not what I wanted!"

"I understand completely, Alvin." George reassured. "You're not an uncle Tom. So don't let them get to you on that. You're fighting back against an unjust act. You don't just accept it, like the corrupted version of that character. And again, do what you feel is right."

"I appreciate it, Uncle George."

"Alvin I hate to cut this short, but I have another call coming in. I hope to hear from you soon!"

"Thanks Uncle George. Take care. Bye-bye."

Alvin ended the call feeling much calmer. Looking around and making sure the road was clear, he popped the truck back into drive and took off go back home. A few minutes later, his phone rang, and Alvin found himself being invited to go swimming at Freddy's place.

---

Going home to grab his swim trunks and a towel, Alvin hopped back into the truck with his friend Spencer and took off for Hanover. He turned right onto Karen, left on Leslie, right onto Euclid Avenue, another left to get onto Granville, a right onto 11th Street, and a final left turn for the Route 16 onramp. Punching the gas, the diesel engine burbled under the hood as he gained power in the climb and merge onto the highway. Eastbound, he flowed with the traffic through the old downtown, watching as Newark started to thin out as he traveled east, past the abandoned Longaberger Basket.

Making a left turn onto Marne Road, he made a right onto Licking Valley Road, which was the straight shot to Hanover. He passed through the small village and got onto County Road 2, which would take him to Freddy's place. The narrow county road was hilly and curvy, through farmland and woodland. He slowed up and turned off the road to Cyrus' home, nestled in the woods. Pulling into the gravel driveway, Alvin immediately saw an argument in progress. Freddy stood screaming at his dad, Darryl Filton, and Cyrus and his brother Ed stood not far away. Everyone looked pretty cross. On the driveway sat Freddy's commercial mower, lying on its side, broken.

"Oh boy." Spencer muttered.

Alvin opened the door to immediately hear Freddy screaming in a fit of rage. Alvin and Spencer hopped out to hear Freddy raging at Darryl about breaking his lawnmower.

"EVERY TIME YOU FUCKING BORROW SOMETHING, YOU AND THAT FUCKING RETARD RONNIE BREAK IT!" Freddy snarled.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" screamed Darryl. "I didn't see the rock!" Darryl was the oldest Filton brother, and the least successful. He looked like a chubby version of Cyrus and Ed, with a noticeable beer gut in his cutoff t-shirt. Cyrus and Ed had long hair that had the ponytail neatly braided Viking style; Cyrus had fire red hair, Ed had darker, brick red hair, and Darryl had a messy mop of ginger hair, stuffed beneath an oil soaked Nascar hat. A scraggly goatee protruded from his chin. Darryl looked like the typical slack jawed hillbilly in his greasy Wranglers, boots, and t-shirt with the sleeves crudely cut off.

Freddy's face was red from being so upset. "You didn't see the rock, huh!? You didn't think about walking the yard before you mowed it!?"

Freddy reached down to pick up the bent up and broken blade. "You didn't think about making sure the yard was clear of shit before you break the fucking blade and the gear assembly?"

Freddy picked up some of the broken gears and threw them at Darryl.

"HEY!" he yelled in protest. Darryl tried to shove Freddy, only to get shoved back into his truck by the blonde wolf. Freddy was so upset that he took a swing at Darryl, only to be pulled back by Cyrus.

"Freddy!" Cyrus protested. "What did your counselor say?"

"Suck on deez nuts!" the wolf yelled. "I'm so sick and tired of my shit being broken by this fucking retard!"

"HEY! I'M YOUR DAD!" Darryl yelled. "DON'T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!"

"THEN ACT LIKE IT, SPERM DONOR!" Freddy screamed.

"Okay, okay, enough!" Ed yelled. "Jesus Christ, Darryl~"

"Why is everyone always blaming me for this shit?" Darryl protested. "I borrowed his mower and it broke accidentally? Don't buy Craftsman? Get a Deere!"

"Yeah, that last Deere of yers really lasted..." Cyrus laughed. "Take better care of your gear dingleberry!"

"Oh god..." Freddy said, realizing that Alvin and Spencer had to see his argument. "Sorry guys! I got carried away."

"I see your mower broke~" Spencer said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Now I gotta repair it..." Freddy muttered, before pointing to Darryl. "'CAUSE THIS FUCKING FUCK UP HERE FUCKING HITS SHIT AND BREAKS EVERYTHING!"

"Oh I'm a fuck up huh?" Darryl glared.

Freddy spun around. "Yes you are!"

"Then what are you huh? You flipping out like a fuck up yourself!"

"Oh I'm a fuck up now?" Freddy snapped. He immediately marched over to punch Darryl in the face and shove him into his old F350 pickup. Ed stepped in and immediately grabbed his nephew and picked him up. Freddy kicked and screamed as he was pulled away.

"Easy killer... Look Darryl... you've pissed off enough people today... so why don't you just go home and sulk about it..."

Darryl grumbled something under his breath and climbed into his creaky old Ford. He fired it up and took off past everyone to leave.

"I can't believe I'm related to that motherfucker..." Freddy huffed. He pushed some of his hair out of his face and ran his paws through the top of his head to fix his long brown hair. "Alrighty then!"

"Freddy, you okay?" Alvin asked.

"Yeah." He said in a calm tone. "How's your face, Alvin?"

"Healing~"

"I can see that!"

"So...dare I ask how this all came about?" Spencer asked, only to get a snort from Cyrus.

"Welcome to my family." Cyrus chuckled.

---

Freddy's broken mower sat strapped down to the back of Alvin's truck, as it rumbled down County Road 2. Inside the cool crew cab, Alvin drove with Spencer in the front passenger seat, and Cyrus and Freddy in the backseat. They were on their way to one of Cy's family friends, who owned a farm supply store in Hanover, "Bradley Supply".

"So amongst the chaos, I forgot to ask ya, how are you feeling, Big Al?" Cyrus asked.

"Well, better I guess. I mean, it still hurts when I turn my neck a certain way... courtesy of a knee pressing down on it... but the swelling has gone down. But man... I look like a beaten wife..." Alvin said in response.

"I just filed my lawsuit against the Licking County Sheriff's." Cyrus announced.

"Yeah, me too." Spencer revealed. "That was just pure overkill."

"And to add to insult? I got swarmed by the media in downtown Newark today... there's protestors in downtown Newark! Over me!" Alvin exclaimed.

"Really?" Freddy muttered. "There were people picketing?"

"At the station, the city building, and the square." Alvin explained. "I got swarmed by a bunch of people... and some yahoo called me an uncle Tom..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa... are you fucking kidding me?" Cyrus asked with a snort. "You, an Uncle Tom?"

Alvin sounded frustrated as he talked. "Ya know...this happened to me... but I'm not gonna be one of these people who just hate cops... the all cops are bastards... no... I'm just not gonna do it. No. And apparently that makes me the house nigger... and whatever other insulting term they can think of."

"Oh my god... people are so fucking stupid..." Freddy groaned. "Why are people so stupid... why is Darryl so stupid?"

"Easy Freddy..." Cy smiled.

"So did someone like leak this out to the press?" Spencer asked.

"I have no idea!" the Doberman exclaimed. "Nobody on our end said anything."

"Yeah, same here." The husky nodded.

"Not me." Freddy shook his head.

"Wait... they report these things on public bulletins from the dispatch office records... so I bet they found that and put two and two together." Cyrus reasoned. "Plus I'm sure people snitched at the hospital. Loose lips sink ships!"

"Either way, it's become a damn nightmare!" Alvin blurted out. "I'm not a ego stroking narcissist, or someone needing constant attention. I like my privacy."

"Now you sound like Rob~" Cyrus teased.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa~!" laughed Alvin. "That's a whole different ballpark there."

Bradley Supply was a local farmer's supply store, located just outside of Hanover. Alvin pulled into the parking lot and everyone hopped out. Donning his mask, Alvin stepped inside with his entourage.

Bradley Supply was both a hardware supply store, and a small grocery store, to Alvin's surprise. One side of the store was hardware, and the other side was a small area with fresh vegetables, some frozen foods, and a delicatessen. Alvin was soon introduced to the store's owner, the mercurial, Dale Bradley.

At the checkout counter stood sixty-eight year old Dale, with his eighty-six year old mother, Phyllis Bradley, who was counting money at the register. Dale was a red Doberman, with a mop of gray hair between his cropped ears. He was the father to Cy's ex boyfriend, Talon Bradley. Dale had a reputation as fierce as Rob's, a "no bullshit" guy. He ran the family business with his younger brother Tim, and brother-in-law Randy.

"You know what my fucking daughter did last night, wanna know what she did?" Dale griped to Tim ,who sat in a rocking chair by a pop machine. "Allison again fucking over dosed on whatever! I get a call from the hospital, again, that they had to revive her. Jesus fucking Christ, I just spent like ten thousand dollars to get her ass cleaned up the LAST TIME she about died! Can you believe this stupid bullshit!"

"You better lay down the law Dale, or she's gonna make a fool outta ya!" Tim exclaimed.

"How much more fucking money do I have to spend to keep her dumbass alive!? She's almost forty fucking years old and is constantly broke and out of a damn job. And she keeps running back to these scumbag motherfuckers from Columbus, who keep feeding her damn habit! She makes me so upset, I'm about ready to pull her fucking teeth out and feed her to Jerry's hogs!"

"Okay, Dale that's enough!" his mother protested. "You're gonna have a heart attack, Dale!"

"Ma, I can't take this- NO I cannot take this anymore!" Dale shouted at her. "Every time I her ass cleaned up, and she goes right back to god alone knows what that puts her in the hospital again! Every time, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, and she trusts that scumbag... and I don't! And right now the way they're making me feel? I'd hit the two of them in the head with a fucking shovel! Ma! I cannot keep-"

Phyllis smacked a paw on the counter and wagged a finger at him. "Enough Dale! Enough! You're gonna drop dead from a stroke!"

"Hey Dale!" Cyrus grinned beneath his mask. "Sorry to interrupt another of yer rants!"

"Oh hey Cyrus!" Dale greeted happily. "What brings ya here today?"

"Fucking Darryl broke my mower..." Freddy grumbled. "I gotta get some parts for it."

"What a fucking waste of space." Dale shook his head. "Your Dad hasn't dragged him out back and shot him yet?"

"No way to make it look like an accident~" Cyrus joked. "Oh! I want you to meet some friends of mine~ This is Spencer Eikemo, and Alvin Paulo. Freddy's friends, from Newark."

"Well hello!" Dale greeted. He stuck a paw out, and Alvin and Spencer accepted with a friendly paw shake.

"I'm Dale Bradley." He introduced himself.

"Mercurial Dale~" Cyrus teased.

"Shut up~" he quipped. "Mister Paulo, you look like you took a beating!"

"Yeah, I did."

"Were you... you were the fella that got beat up by the deputy right?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately."

"What was his name again Tim? Was it Bill, or Ryan?"

"Bill Parsons."

"Oh yeah, fuck that guy." Dale grunted. "Alvin if you ever open a dictionary and look up the word loser, you will find a photo of Bill and his retarded younger brother, Ryan Parsons! Those two are absolutely worthless. I can't stand them or their pathetic ass family. That motherfucker Bill thinks he's so tough and such a badass that he's a Sheriff's Deputy- that dude goes home to get fucked by his wife. She needs to clean the sand outta his pussy!"

"Wow." Alvin muttered.

"I hope you're suing his ass."

"There is legal restitution coming~" Alvin shrugged.

"Good."

The shop doors swung open to reveal Talon, Dale's second oldest son. The thirty-six year old Talon looked like a younger version of his Dad but with tattoo sleeves on both arms. He was a well built Doberman, have a body like Cy's, and a fellow landscaper with his own business.

"Okay, Freddo, what did Retard One and Two do?"

Freddy approached with all his parts that he needed. "They apparently hit a damn rock hard enough to break the blade and shatter a bunch of gears."

"I told them to use my spare mower... and walk the yard for obstacles." Talon shook his head. "Can't get good help anymore!"

"Here... I'll buy them." Talon offered as he grabbed his wallet. "I'm sorry that they broke your mower."

"It's alright, you don't have to apologize, Talon~ Darryl's a useless waste of oxygen."

"Well we all know that, Freddy." Chuckled Cyrus.

"How's you?" Talon asked Cyrus with a smile.

"Living the dream!"

"Just shoot me right?"

"Yeah!"

Alvin stepped outside with Freddy to help unstrap the mower from the bed. Talon would take it and repair it for Freddy, as a friendly gesture, as Darryl worked for his landscaping business.

"You okay, Freddo?" Alvin asked as he unlatched the straps and began rolling them up.

"Yeah. I just get a little upset at Darryl~" chuckled the blonde wolf. "He's just a stupid fuck. And he's inconsiderate and selfish."

Alvin nodded. "You shouldn't have hit your dad~"

"What difference does it make now?" Freddy shrugged, tossing a strap over to the Dober. "I doubt we'll ever have a relationship. Things kind of got a bit better after the tornado hit... but then he went back to being full retard."

"Never say never." Alvin quipped. "I used to think that about my Dad."

Freddy had a look of thought on his face. "What did you do again, on how you and your Dad made up?"

"Well, I had to just accept that what happened, happened, and that me and Dad weren't going to have the more typical father-son relationship. We both had to accept that, and put aside the past, and carry on. But it also took my Dad's part too, to meet in the middle."

"That's my problem..." Freddy grunted.

"But never give up hope and close your heart completely, even if your Dad's a dumbass."

Alvin opened the left back door and stowed the straps beneath the seat, when he suddenly felt a paw grab him and rip him around. Startled, Alvin was slammed into the truck by a very angry German Shepherd. Freddy was startled by the slam and saw Alvin being pinned to the truck.

"You fucking son of a bitch getting my brother arrested!" the Shepherd shouted. "You think he got you good? Wait till I-"

"GET OFF HIM!" Freddy screamed. The wolf grabbed the Shepherd, only to be shoved back. He pulled a holstered gun, a silver Beretta. Alvin shoved him and grabbed for the gun in a desperate struggle.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you- you fucking nigger!"

Freddy jumped on the Shepherd's back, yelling and screaming to draw attention. Alvin managed to yank the gun out of his grip; the Doberman threw it across the parking lot and punched him in the gut. Freddy grabbed him by the head and Alvin punched him repeatedly in the face.

"CALL ME A FUCKING NIGGER AGAIN MOTHERFUCKER!" Screamed Alvin. He threw fist after fist into his face, bloodying his lips, nose, forehead.

"RYAN PARSONS GET OFF HIM!" came Dale's screaming voice.

Alvin threw himself back when he saw Dale swing and strike the German Shepherd across the face with a shovel. He was thrown to the pavement, knocked unconscious.

"Alvin! Alvin!" yelled Cyrus and Spencer as they ran outside with Talon.

"Are you okay?" Dale asked him. He helped Alvin up and brush some dust off his tanktop.

"Holy shit..." Alvin muttered. His hazel eyes were as wide as saucer plates.

"Oh god..." Freddy muttered.

"That's gonna look good for the lawsuit..." Chuckled Cyrus.

"Man... I need a vacation..." Alvin thought.

Ryan Parsons, the younger brother of Deputy Bill Parsons, was arrested by members of the Licking County Sheriff's office, slapped with a charge of felonious assault on account of the gun. If Alvin didn't feel so tense about the whole situation, he would have thought it was funny in an ironic way. The brother of the deputy who beat him up, was arrested by the same law enforcement group that was being sued by him and his family. The interactions between Alvin and the Sheriff Deputies dispatched to Hanover was an icy affair, a clearly tense moment between Sheriff's and Alvin on account of the lawsuit. It was like walking on eggshells as Alvin talked to them and filled out paperwork. And to add insult to injury, the incident brought the hoard to Hanover. Alvin watched as he was barraged by protestors and the media. It became a media circus in the parking lot of Bradley Supply.

"Look I'm sorry, but I gotta go back home and call Lisa, and get my ducks in a row again..." Alvin said to Cyrus and Freddy. "Sorry we couldn't hang out and whatnot. I'll make it up."

"No, it's okay~" smiled Freddy. "This was a fucking shitshow, and I get it. We'll get together when we have some free time."

"Alright. Well, Spence? Let's go home."

"Yeah, let's get the hell outta here." The husky grimaced at all the news crews.

Alvin and Spencer climbed back into Rob's flatbed truck, and they turned around to head out. They had to stop and let an opening clear up amongst the media circus to leave. Cameras aimed, flash guns firing away, Alvin felt so embarrassed yet again as he drove on by. Protestors yelled at him, and Sheriff Deputies watched with icy gazes as Alvin turned and left. He kept his foot on the gas and didn't look back on his way home to Newark.

---

Frustrated by everything that was going on, Alvin decided to spend the weekend out of town, to escape his troubles. At dawn, the eastern sun was still below the horizon, the early dawn's light banding the darkened sky in shades of orange and purple. Mist clung low to the farm fields. The morning air was cool and calm, a moment of respite from the unforgiving heat. The tranquility of morning was broken by the deep burbling rumble of pistons and propellers. Slowly turning for the runway was Rob's newest warbird, a 1960's On Mark Marksman, a civilianized A-26 Invader. Looking regal in its extremely polished form, the silver skin glistened in the bright floodlights of the airport. Twin Double Wasp radials drove paddle blade Hamilton propellers, which sparkled in the harsh beams of light. Blue flames licked from the radial exhaust stacks. They were ready to make the hop north-east, to Akron. Alvin planned to spend the weekend with his Dad.

In the cockpit, Alvin sat in the right-hand seat. He was dressed in his usual khaki flight jumpsuit, complete with "bone dome" Russian ZsH-3 helmet that was painted orange. Rob was similarly dressed for the flight. The Marksman was a dual control conversion of the wartime Invader, with the military style canopy retained, which opened up and outwards from the center brace. Rob turned the Marksman onto the runway and immediately commanded maximum power from the twin R-2800's. Lightly loaded, the Marksman easily built up speed and lifted off the runway, gracefully overflying Heath into the clear skies. Climbing up to two thousand feet, Alvin took the controls while Rob adjusted the throttles and mixtures for cruise flight. The Dober took the flight as an opportunity to build up some multi-engine hours on his flight logs as part of his training.

"And there's the sunrise, right on schedule~" Rob pointed. As Alvin flew, Rob took aim with his fancy Alpha camera and fired off a few pictures of the brilliant orange sun emerging over the hazy horizon. The morning sky was banded in shades of silver, blue, gold, and purple. After Rob took some pictures, he stowed his camera away and took the controls so Alvin could take pictures with his full-frame Nikon. Alvin took several pictures of the glaring sun, and the colorful gamut of the sky. He stowed his camera back into its case and took the controls again of the Marksman. He glanced at his instrumentation, finding them at three thousand feet, heading north-northeast at an indicated airspeed of 275MPH.

"So you like the Marksman?" Alvin asked his uncle.

"It's a sharp plane~" Rob acknowledged over their headsets. His voice crackled though the microphone. "They wanted to sell it so cheap, and I just couldn't say no~"

"So get it while you can?"

"Yeah."

"How she goes!" Alvin laughed. "Hey, Uncle Rob?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"Yeah, what is it?"

"You're mixed like me... what's your perception of it?" Alvin asked.

Rob had a look of thought on his stern, scarred face. "I don't think too much about it anymore, because frankly, I don't care what others think."

"Ah."

"I'm half Korean, I'm half Polish with some smattering of other European roots in me. I straddle two cultural worlds, just like you. So you don't really belong in either or. You're just different. That's my perception. People look at me and can tell there's something different, but they're not sure. So you're different. And to some, different is bad."

"I asked because I've just been thinking more about it after...everything that's been going on lately."

"People are stupid, Alvin, that's the universal answer." Rob sarcastically quipped. "When in doubt. It's because people are stupid!"

Alvin nodded and had to agree with the statement. Rob reached back and grabbed his water bottle to take a sip. "I know it's been bothering you, because you were profiled by a cop and beat up by him, and then all the fallout and media frenzy- like sharks in chum infested waters..."

"I just... you know... you hear about these things on the news, but you'd never think it would happen to you... I didn't think when I would grow my hair out, would be an issue!"

"It's not an issue, but people who want to stir the pot make it an issue." Rob shook his head. "This nation has always been so fucked up in our relations among the various groups. We're an amalgamation of various people from around the world, who all have to try and live together. Some are fine, some are not. But for the longest of time, the idea of assimilation, the idea here of everyone being the same, lose your past identities, and 'become American', is putting a smile on the bare naked discrimination that it is. I mean, years ago, people with hair like yours would do this torturous shit of straightening it out with lye and other chemicals so they would be more accepted by European descended peoples- like what the fuck is that? There's still issues today with afro textured hair and you see it on the news because people are fucking stupid."

"It's the idea that someone would look at me and be like 'that's a thug'... like I'm up to no good or something?"

"Alvin you've reached the age where sadly people do see that. You've shed the innocence of childhood, and you are forging your own identity. And unfortunately, there's people who do look like you who get into trouble and cause stupid shit and mayhem. And people just assume... because of stereotypes."

"I'm like... a student who gets straight B's and is never tardy... and my pants don't sag."

"Again. People are stupid."

"And I can't believe a protestor called me an uncle Tom... because I don't have a problem with police."

"What?"

"Yeah! I got told I'm an Uncle Tom because I'm not these people out there yelling 'fuck twelve' and 'all cops are bastards'!"

"Well I can tell you for a fact you're not an Uncle Tom, Alvin." Rob said bluntly. "You're a level headed person who doesn't get blinded by your feelings. These morons out protesting and shit- they're a bunch of stupid social justice warriors who want to rule by feeling, not fact! It's like those stupid college shits I had to work with in Akron last year. None of them had a fucking clue how the world worked because here they are, a bunch of middle-class college kids who never really worked and got out into the real world. All these people think that if you just do A, B will happen, and the world will be this happy, happy place! Doesn't work like that."

"I just... don't let my emotions cloud my judgment?" Alvin shrugged. "I mean, you have to have law enforcement to enforce things and provide public safety? Or else it's just anarchy."

"The problem with law enforcement in this country is a chronic lack of training and qualifications, piss poor vetting, and an entire legal system that makes no sense. Our laws are so fundamentally screwed up, because they're written by people with an agenda at hand. There is no reason why a law needs to be written formally in a hundred pages! And what's the point of a judicial system if a judge can just throw shit out or overlook it? Why have laws with a bunch of men and women in robes can say 'fuck it!' and just toss it. Like that little shit Kyle Rittenhouse. Why have laws if someone can just toss it? This nation relies too much on honor systems, for our police, and our judicial system. You swear on a bible that you will uphold the constitution and law and then you get a shiny badge. Means nothing, when people constantly break the law and fuck around to their own advantage." Rob shook his head in annoyance.

"It's been a crazy past couple of years."

"Yeah, it has." Rob agreed. "The entire moral fabric of this country has been destroyed because of that idiot Fuckface von Clownstick that people elected. The sheer corrosiveness of that administration has just trickled down to our society and poisoned it. The indifference, the cruelty, our political divides- it threatens to tear this nation apart. I fear what more will come out from the Trump years."

Alvin grimaced. "Yeah."

"You also have this pandemic that's killed like nearly a million people, and STILL, there's people who deny its severity. You can't fix stupid Alvin."

"Nope."

"Cut to the chase here~" Rob concluded. "Who gives a shit what anyone thinks? Don't let others dictate your thoughts and beliefs, because opinions are like assholes. Everyone has one and they should keep it to themselves. You're not an Uncle Tom, you're not a fuckin' nigger, you're none of that shit. You are Alvin Paulo, and you got a good brain between those shoulders and always use it! Don't let the groupthink sway you, because that's what all these groups are, groupthink. Everyone in the group has to act and be the same. That's why there's stereotypes. Such a strange thing to me..."

"Some people seem more interested in being part of a group... like I noticed that with Shakar, and his Dad... and Mary... and others at school."

"Everyone wants to feel like they belong somewhere in a group, because that's our we survived as a species. We're a social species, in our own little groups, packs, clans. I personally never felt welcomed in any group because my background. People made fun of me for being half-Asian, while other Koreans didn't really like me for being mixed."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I remember meeting a couple older Koreans who didn't like that I was mixed, because over there, there is this great emphasis on bloodlines, purity... blah, blah. Stupid zipper head shit."

"Wow."

"Mary and her ilk, they're the same way. They're just fucking stupid. That's all. To them, crime pays, and is the way of life. Like going to jail is normal? That's not normal!"

"No." Alvin chuckled. "Lord... they make me feel like I have a giant target on my back!"

"Not when I have my say~" chuckled Rob. "I'm gonna break them one way or another. Same with that fucking deputy. We'll win Alvin."

"You think so?"

"I know we will~" Rob nodded.

"On the topic of groups... Uncle Rob... so is that why you're kind of a loner?"

"I'm a lot more complicated in why I'm a loner." Rob shrugged. "I never felt welcomed in any group. I've always felt pushed to the fringes because of my autism and social difficulties. So I just stopped caring after everything that had happened in the past. I just do my own thing, and I don't care what anyone thinks, because I don't live for them. I have to live for me. And I hope you understand that advice too. Not in a self-serving, narcissistic hurt others to benefit yourself kind of way, but you have to make yourself happy, and you're the only one who can do it, not others. Only you, Alvin. So please don't let recent events discourage you~"

"Pick up and carry on~" Alvin smiled.

"That's the spirit." Rob nodded.

Arriving over the city of Akron, Alvin maneuvered the Marksman around in the landing pattern for Akron's Fulton airport. He circled around once and began to drop the flaps and gear into place. Holding high engine power, Alvin began to descend in, under Rob's strict guidance. He warned that the Marksman had to land with a high power margin, or else the plane would "pancake onto the runway". Descending in and flaring, Alvin only slightly backed off on the throttle as they touched down. The tires chipped on landing, and the plane jolted a bit. Only once the gear was down that Alvin let off completely on the throttle. Both radials went into reverse pitch, and they slowed to a crawl in about a thousand feet.

"And there you Alvin, your first A-26 landing~"

"And we didn't die!"

"Exactly." Rob laughed.

At the perimeter fence stood his dad Robby, patiently waiting. He waved at Alvin as they taxied up to the perimeter, and Alvin in return waved through the open canopy as they parked. Alvin was ready to begin his weekend in Akron.

---

The evening sun hung low on the lakefront. The gentle waves of Lake Erie lapped against Alvin's feet in the cool wet sand. Ablaze with color, Alvin felt as though he was standing in a painting as he admired all the brilliant colors of the sunset. The deep blue waters of the lake met a blazing orange sky. Wispy clouds added some gray contrast, the edges of the clouds taking on a rich magenta hue. Adjusting his camera's settings, Alvin aimed and took a photo through a tight aperture, the brilliant sun spread out as a fourteen point starburst in his picture. He took one more just to be sure in a landscape shot, before rotating around for a portrait. He fired the shutter a few more times, and went back to admiring the colors of the sunset.

Alvin ended a relaxing Saturday in Cleveland with his Dad. They had spent the day visiting an aviation museum in Canton, and traveling up to see the lake, have dinner, and go take a swim. It was just what he needed to get away from his troubles.

As the light began to slip away, Robby walked through the sand to where Alvin was standing at. Carrying a smoothie for him, the tattooed up Doberman wore his swim trunks that had finally dried off from a nice evening swim in the lake. "Hey Alvin! Got this for you!"

"Thanks!" Alvin said as he accepted a fruit smoothie from his Dad. They stood admiring the sunset together while sipping on their smoothies.

"That's quite the color barrage there." Robby pointed out.

"I got some great pics of it."

"I can't wait to see them." Robby said. "You're quite the photographer, ya know that?"

"I try." Chuckled the Dober. "I learned from some of the best!"

"I can see that!"

"Today was a lot of fun, Dad. I needed it."

"You deserved it, Alvin. You've been through some crap lately."

"Yeah..." Alvin nodded with a cynical tone. "You know... I feel like... I have a big target on my back still..."

"Why do you say that?"

"Between my cousin and that insane side of the family... and suing the Sheriff's department? I'm afraid something's gonna happen again. I'm just afraid of...what else could go wrong?"

"You shouldn't think like that, because it'll drive you mad." Robby suggested.

"When the brother of that deputy attacked me in Hanover, I go mad over it, I bloodied his face up good."

"Good!" Robby exclaimed. "Alvin sometimes you have to defend yourself with violence, as bad as that sounds."

"He had a damn gun too, and I managed to shake it loose and throw it across the parking lot."

Robby shook his head in disdain.

"But then the Sheriff's Department showed up and it was such an icy affair... like they were upset that I got one of their own arrested for his own undoing... That made me very nervous... I was afraid they'd start trouble or accuse me of something I didn't do..."

"Heh, well it's not like they're known to escalate stuff to justify aggressive force." Robby rolled his eyes. "Trust me, I know. It's why I got outta Licking County when I could."

"The county leaves a lot to be desired sometimes..."

"Licking County is a good 'ole boy county and the Sheriff's are no different. They like stirring up trouble when they can. This is why some people just should not be cops. Some are just adrenaline junkies looking for their fix, like druggies ~ No different." Robby explained. "Me and the cops didn't get along... but that's my fault because I was a stupid shit when I was your age and liked to street race with my friends and what we thought were our fast Hondas."

"Oh boy." Laughed Alvin as Robby gave a shit-eating grin.

"I was a stupid shit for a long time." Robby admitted. "Took me a long time to figure that out."

"What made you want to change, Dad?" Alvin asked curiously as they started to walk back to the car.

"The pandemic." He admitted in a serious tone. "The isolation, and then getting really sick and being hospitalized for a few days. I was in a Covid ward where I saw just an endless sight of extremely sick people. All I needed was just a bit of oxygen for a day or two, but I saw people coming in on ventilators- I swear, at least a dozen people died in the span of the day or two I was there. That really opened my eyes to things... and... I meet the girl of my dreams, and found out her ex-husband screwed her over, cheated on her, hurt her... just was a deadbeat to her daughter... and... that made me feel like a piece of shit... because that was me too. And she wanted me to have a relationship with you... and I felt it was time to conquer that... because I thought maybe you didn't want to ever speak to me again."

"I'll admit, I was upset and hurt... but that's behind us now."

"Well I'm glad we're at the point where we're at now." Robby said with a smile.

"I am too~"

Getting back on the interstate, Robby and Alvin drove back to Akron as the light bit of light slipped away. Headlights peered on I-77, southbound, the lanes quiet on a Saturday evening. It was a time of laughter and introspection.

"So you were saying the Sheriff's were always like this?"

"Yeah!" Robby exclaimed. "Like take for example this... I was at the Strawberry festival thing downtown once with Joey, and the Sheriff deputies come up being all friendly wanting to talk to me, and that's fine, I guess, but then they wanted to ask about my tattoo sleeves, and were getting all serious and assertive about it, and I'm like 'do you have a warrant?' and they're like 'well, no, but we want to ask you some questions', and I told them to basically fuck off."

"Wow, that's random."

"It's because those clowns automatically assume that if you have tattoo sleeves like me, you're up to trouble." Robby rolled his eyes. "Next thing you know it's reefer madness or something! This is the crap I couldn't stand in Licking County- they'd like to take a minor problem and just escalate and escalate to justify using force, and that's just not good. And nobody in the county wants to do anything about it because it all benefits them because of the good 'ole boy system in place. Newark is the dump that it is because there's no new thinking in the city. It's just gonna keep rotting away."

"Well, I mean, Akron isn't exactly a metropolis~" Alvin chuckled.

"Yeah, you got a point there..." Robby laughed. "But at least Akron has a lot of manufacturing jobs that pay well, like my job at Firestone. Landing this job was a godsend."

"That's what Newark needs, and will never get because city government doesn't seem interested in wooing them in. So they're all going to Heath, Hebron, Johnstown, and New Albany!"

"See?" Robby chuckled, shaking his head. "Stupid. You can't fix it!"

"Sadly no~" Alvin chuckled.

Robby thought of something as he passed a slow semi truck. "Since summer vacation is about over, I wanted to do something nice, since also Jennifer is out of town with her daughter visiting family in Pittsburgh. Uhh, what if you and your friends come on up, and we'll go make a trip to the Cleveland aquarium and then a nice lunch and swim?"

"Hey that sounds like a great idea!" Alvin agreed. "And my Tahoe will be back in service by then."

"Bring your friends who want to go, it'll be my treat~" Robby promised.

"Sure!"

Returning back to Robby's home at night, Alvin, tired from a busy and fun day, relaxed before bed by editing some photos on his laptop and messaging his friends on Telegram. Spencer and Freddy both agreed to go on the trip next Sunday, which made the young Dober more excited. He was going to end summer on a high note. Checking the time, and wishing his friends good night, Alvin closed the lid to his Thinkpad laptop and switched off the table lamp. With the soft pale blue moonlight filtering through the window, Alvin crawled into bed and took a moment to stare up at the featureless ceiling. From all the fun and travels of the day, the Dober felt relaxed, after such a chaotic few weeks. Exhaustion finally overcame him, and Alvin fell into a deep, spent sleep.

---

Wednesday, mid-week. The morning sun shone brightly through the narrow basement window of Alvin's editing room. Going downstairs to where it was cool, Alvin stepped into the room carrying Greenie the duck in his arms. He flipped on the light and sat Greenie down on the futon, where he waddled over to a folded up blanket to lay down and rest at. Walking up to his all-black Aptiva setup, Alvin fired the desktop up and took a seat and waited for Windows 98 to load. He glanced at the clock and took a moment for some introspection.

His weekend respite with his dad up in Akron paid off, and allowed Alvin to handle a very hectic Monday and Tuesday in court. The first court cases in his lawsuit against the LCSO had begun, and he, Spencer, and Freddy appeared in court for testimony against Deputy Parsons. In both cases, the city building was swarmed with picketers, both for and against law enforcement, with the media gobbling it all up. Alvin found it a very overwhelming experience, but the worst was kept away by Rob's intimidating "Blackshirts", who escorted him through the crushing crowds heavily armed. After trying so hard to maintain a low profile, and hearing of reports about some damage done to the police station by protestors while he was away, Alvin felt compelled to videotape a statement and calm people down.

Just as Windows 98 finished booting up and the desktop came up on his big CRT display, Alvin glanced up at the clock again. He had sort of taken the day off today to recuperate from all the chaos, and hang out with his friends. On the agenda, he would shoot another promo for Cyrus' landscaping business, and then shoot his statement.

Opening Word 97 up, Alvin tapped his fingers gently on the keyboard and thought of what to write about his statement. Being the center of attention wasn't his forte, and he wanted to find a statement that was the "middle of the road", and got the point across. Alvin started to type, and working slowly, crafted his first paragraph. Hitting enter twice, Alvin began to type the first sentence to the second paragraph, when the phone rang. Looking over his shoulder, he glanced at the caller ID on the cordless phone receiver. Spinning around, he picked up on an old beige Bell telephone that sat beside him on the desk.

"Hello, this is Alvin speaking~"

"Alvin, good morning, this is Agent Gary Dove, Cincinnati branch of the FBI speaking."

"Oh hey, Dove. What's going on?" Alvin asked. He was a bit surprised to hear from him.

"Well...Alvin... I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have to report that your cousin, Shakar Marquee, escaped from prison last night."

Alvin immediately froze and sat up in his seat. His eyes went huge and he sat frozen in place. A frigid chill ran down his spine.

"Shakar was complaining about pain in his leg from where he was shot at, and he was transferred to a local hospital in Columbus, where he managed to slip out through a open window."

After a few seconds of silence, Alvin coughed a bit. "Uhh, aren't there prison hospital facilities? Like the huge one off Frank Road?"

"That hospital is currently at max capacity due to a Covid outbreak at multiple Franklin County jails. So Shakar was transferred."

"Lovely."

"We're working with the Marshal's in the manhunt for him."

"I'm a bit worried about my safety, and my family's safety, Dove?"

"Oh I understand completely, Alvin." Dove said. "At this point, he's on the lam, so hiding is more important than seeking revenge. Plus I don't think he'd want to try your uncle again, heh, heh~"

"Yeah." Alvin muttered.

"Alvin, I must let you go, and if you need anything, or have any questions, please give me a call. Take care Alvin."

"Thanks. You too. Bye~"

Alvin hung the handset back onto the receiver. Looking ashen faced, the Dober gulped and sat back in his seat. Now he felt like he had a problem. His cellphone soon chimed from an incoming text, which Alvin checked, finding it was Spencer messaging him, telling him he'd be coming over in a few minutes.

"The show must go on..."

---

Hitting the highway with Spencer, Alvin punched the gas and climbed the 11th Street onramp for Route 16. He merged his silver Tahoe onto the highway and began his trek over to Hanover.

"So Shakar just jumped out of a window?" Spencer asked, sounding a bit surprised.

"Apparently so!"

"You'd think someone who was in jail would be under...maybe police supervision?"

"Oh who knows anymore." Alvin rolled his eyes. "For a guy who said his leg was hurting so bad from that gunshot wound... he sure could bolt outta there..."

"Yeah... 'hurting'..." Spencer sighed.

"I guess I can't really worry about it... I mean... lightning don't strike twice right?"

"I'd hope he'd be trying to lay low verses seeking you out..."

"Well... one can hope..."

Passing through Hanover, Alvin and Spencer soon arrived to the headquarters of Cy's landscaping business, "Filton's Finest Landscaping Company". His headquarters was housed inside what was an old farm house, the property a ranch that was repurposed into his maintenance facility and mulch and gravel storage. Alvin pulled in and parked beside Cy's white Sierra dually. The Dober and Husky hopped out and grabbed their video gear, and ventured inside to go find Cyrus. Meeting Cyrus and his dad, Dan Filton, Alvin and Spencer talked with Cyrus and Dan over their ideas for their new promo. They were surprised to hear that Cyrus was expanding his landscaping business into a more general home improvement venture, with a desire to allow more steady financial stability during the winter months. Some of Cy's landscapers were contractors in the winter months when business was almost completely dead save snow plowing. They got an idea jotted down on a notepad.

Heading back into the heat, Alvin and Spencer followed Cyrus to his truck. He would drive them to their shooting location, at a house being built in Utica. It was a big "Garage Mahal" as Cyrus called them, a huge oversized seven bedroom house being built out in the countryside. There were contactors everywhere, their vans taking up every inch. Cy's crews were digging at a spot where a future pond would be at. Alvin glanced around and spotted Freddy planting bushes, his truck's bed filled with a number of evergreens.

Grabbing and getting his BVP-3 ready, Alvin manned his Betacam with Spencer, who held the microphone out of the shot. Cyrus, always lively and charismatic, worked the camera as he announced the big changes and expansion for the business. Alvin did two takes for safety, and then he and Spencer went around inside and out and shot B-roll to cut in.

The clock struck three o'clock when they finished up. Standing by Cy's truck, Alvin made note on the videotape label of what the tape's contents were, and packed it all up. He locked the Betacam's suitcase up and placed it in the bed of Cy's truck next to Spencer's. A bungee cord held them against the side of the bed.

"I just need to shoot the statement and that's gonna be good to go."

"Hey could I tag along?" Freddy asked, wiping mulch stained paws on his stained yellow work shirt.

"Sure!" Alvin and Spencer agreed.

"I just gotta run by the house and get cleaned up..." Freddy suggest.

"We can make it a fun outing!" Cyrus suggested as he started his truck up to get the A/C fired up. Alvin and Spencer hopped in and they took off, following Freddy down the road back to Hanover. The county road was winding and hilly, cutting through farmland and woodland, just like the road to Cy's house out in the Hanover countryside.

"Ya know, I appreciate you guys befriending ole Freddo~" Cyrus said over the air conditioner and road noise. "I think it's been doing him a lot of good."

"Oh?" Spencer perked up.

"Freddy only has like...two friends as far as I can tell..." Cyrus figured. "They're these two lanky, dopey teens who always act depressed whenever I see them. They all play videogames together. They're like the typical Gen-Z 'oh I'm so depressed', or whatever generation you guys are in... I mean, hell, anymore people be like 'DID YOU JUST ASSUME MY GENERATION!?'"

"Ha~" Laughed Spencer and Alvin. "That's great." Alvin said from the backseat.

"Since Freddy's gotten to hang out with you guys, he's perked up a bit. He isn't as irritable all the time."

"Freddy is an interesting guy." Spencer said in an ambiguous way.

"Little Freddo has had a rough life, and I try so hard to care for him and be there for him, but he's very distant and standoffish to a lot of people, even in the family." Cyrus explained. "I don't think my parents really understand him and how he ticks. He got hurt by his mom big time, and Darryl's a big dummy and hasn't done diddly squat, so that hasn't helped one bit! Freddy keeps his distance to most people as some kind of coping mechanism. But he's lately been a bit more positive, and seems to be happier after he hangs out with you two, which makes me happy."

"Well I saw Freddy angry that day over the mower...." Alvin chuckled.

"Oh lord... the little Rob~" laughed the blonde wolf. "Freddy has a temper on him. I remember Darryl really made him mad and Freddy literally strangled him. I had to stop Freddy because Darryl started to turn blue!"

"Uhh, wow..." Spencer cringed.

"Darryl, being the stupid dumbass that he is, took his video game console, and then dropped it and broke it, and tried to blame Freddy, and he flipped out." Cyrus shook his head. "This is my brother... it's a shame there's no such thing as a post-birth abortion!"

"Well I appreciate that you appreciate us!" Spencer complimented.

"Anytime!" grinned Cyrus.

---

By nightfall, Freddy and Spencer sat around Alvin's computer with him, as he finished up editing Cy's commercial promo. Transferred and digitized, the promo ran a minute and a half, and was cut together with all the footage they had shot at the house in Utica. Alvin ran a play through on the preview, which was displayed on his desktop's second monitor. A clean, crisp analog picture, pillarboxed on the monitor ran smoothly. Freddy gave his approval, and Alvin hit the save and render, which began to convert the video file for its final format.

"And that's how you do it on a computer~" chuckled Alvin. He rotated around in his chair and leaned back, stretching his arms in the process.

"Not as fun as complete analog editing on the A-B roll!" Spencer laughed.

"Not as many headaches too." Alvin grinned.

"See, this is neat." Freddy said. "This is really cool. I want to learn more about this."

"It's fun when things go according to plan!" Alvin exclaimed with a snort.

His desktop's dual Xeon's quickly rendered his video file. He played it back one final time to check for glitches and errors, before sending a copy of it to his Dropbox. Grabbing the link, he sent an e-mail to Cyrus, so he could upload it onto his company's YouTube page.

"And another creation finished~" Alvin boasted. He spun around to open a new video project, grabbed the master file of his statement, and trimmed it up. He smacked the space bar to play back what he had trimmed up. Alvin had used downtown Newark as the backdrop of his statement, with him standing at one end of the downtown courthouse square. Spencer had started zoomed in off into the distance, zooming out as Alvin began to speak, which focused onto him. The bright glaring sun off parked vehicles and cars that drove by comet-tailed in the Betacam's Saticons, leaving silvery lag that streaked across the picture.

"I hate hearing myself talk." Alvin laughed as he listened to his statement. He introduced himself and gave a brief biography about himself, before going into his grievance against the Sheriff's Department. He explained what had happened, and how he felt about the assault, and why he was suing the LCSO. Alvin also expressed his frustration with the protesting, and especially being called an Uncle Tom by a protestor. He tried to be firm but fair with his statement. He ended his speech with a courteous "thank you".

Adding just some text at the beginning, Alvin pretty much had a finished video. He saved it to his hard drive and let the desktop render. "And that's how you do it again~"

"Wow." Freddy muttered. "I'd love to learn this~"

"Well stick around, and we'll show you!" Spencer smiled.

"You guys are not like my other friends..." Freddy admitted. "I have two other friends from school- Damien and Kyle, and all they want to do is just be mopey-dopey, play video games and smoke weed. You guys wanna go out and just shoot video and be adventurous and actually look happy doing it!"

"I try and be an optimist. It's what I do~" Alvin shrugged. He spun back around in his seat to send his video off to his attorney for publication.

"If you want to learn video production, we'll gladly show you, and it'll be fun."

"I want to learn a talent or something, so I'm not just pegged as a fucking landscaper my whole life like fucking retard Darryl..." Freddy rolled his eyes. "Like Cy has an engineering degree and worked for ODOT for years doing bridge inspections..."

"You should lay off insulting your Dad all the time~" Spencer suggested. "It's not healthy."

"Sorry... there's just... a lot of anger in my heart about him and Kayla."

"Ya know, it's easier said than done... but sometimes you have to let go of your hate, before it consumes and warps you into something you might very well regret." Alvin suggested. "You might not like what has happened, but constantly fighting with Darryl isn't going to help you, and it's not going to settle any scores, or bring peace. Only you can do that."

"I guess~" Freddy shrugged. "I guess life ain't easy."

"No." Spencer agreed with a shake of his head. "It's not."

"At least I got one more year, and then I can get out of Licking Valley, aka, Bumfuckistan high~"

"Summer's about over~" Spencer shook his head. "It just started!"

"Well... let's enjoy our last hurrah before school with this Sunday trip~"

"Yeah!" Freddy exclaimed. "I'm actually excited for it."

"I am too~" smiled Alvin. "It's gonna be a blast!"

---

At dawn, the sky was still somewhat dark, like a deep shade of purples and blues as Alvin and Spencer dropped Rob and Joey off at the airport. Under the bright glare of floodlights, the two teens watched Rob and Joey prepare for their flight to Chicago. Taking up the ramp space were their two Su-7BKL's, "Blue 60" and "Red 57". Cylindrical in shape, with sharply swept wings, the big Sukhoi jets were another success story of Rob's "salvaged wonders". Rob and Joey both wore their flight uniforms; Rob had his orange jumpsuit on with his parachute and white ZsH-3 "bone dome". Joey had a khaki colored suit with a similar "bone done" strapped to his head. Spencer kneeled on the pavement taking some pictures with Alvin's Nikon.

"Uncle Rob and Joey, I hope you have a nice anniversary trip!" Alvin said as he prepared to say goodbye.

"Oh we will!" Joey smiled. "And you have and fun and safe trip with your Dad in Cleveland~"

"Will do!"

"If you need anything, just call~" Rob suggested. "Alrighty Alvin! Time to jet~"

"Be safe!" Alvin waved. "Don't get the 'rona either!"

"Heh, I don't want to." Rob shuddered.

"When I get Corona... I usually like mine with lime~" Joey teased. "Alright, Alvin, you have fun!"

"Alrighty! See you this evening!" Alvin waved as he ran back to a safe spot on the tarmac.

Standing with Vlado, Rob's burly mechanic, Alvin and Spencer watched as Rob and Joey began to depart with their Fitter's. Firing up their large AL-7 turbojets, the calm of the morning was shattered by the ear piercing scream of the Lyulka engine. Departing in a slow turn, they taxied to the runway, where a minute later, came Rob screaming down the runway in full afterburner. "Blue 60", polished silver with the red star of the VVS on its tail, lifted off the runway, trailing a large yellow trail of flame from its exhaust. Joey followed thirty seconds later with "Red 57", another VVS marked jet with glossy grown and green camouflage. The roar of the afterburner was overpowering, and Alvin and Spencer stood in awe, watching as Rob and Joey disappeared into the dark western skies.

Departing from Newark-Heath, Alvin and Spencer departed from the airport. Coming up to the stop sign to Heath Road, Alvin took notice of a beat up old Tahoe on the side of the road. Faded red and black, about the only thing that looked nice on it was the window tint. It sat off to the side of the road. He scrutinized it for a bit, but saw that traffic was clear, and Alvin turned left to begin his way to Hanover. The red Tahoe slowly pulled out onto the road.

Heading east to Hanover, Alvin and Spencer picked Freddy up, who sat in the backseat as they wound their way back onto Route 16, to head north-east up through Coshocton, to Route 36, through Newcomerstown, to reach Route 77. It would be a straight shot north to Akron. Winding around on the -77 onramp, Alvin looked in his rear view mirror briefly to see the red Tahoe again. It disappeared around the bend, but when Alvin looked back again, there was the Tahoe, keeping distance behind him. Alvin fumbled his brow at the sight of that SUV again. He couldn't see the occupants inside, as the windshield was tinted, only their silhouettes. There looked like at least three people inside.

The drive to Akron was uneventful, and Alvin and Spencer had a good time laughing and joking with Freddy. Listening to music and telling personal stories of their adventures, it made the hour and a half drive to Akron go quick. Arriving at Robby's house, they picked him up, and Alvin let his Dad drive the rest of the way to Cleveland.

Merging onto I-77 again, Alvin sat in the front passenger seat, watching the scenery as Robby merged with traffic. Alvin's eyes were drawn to the rear view mirror again, only to spot the red Tahoe again. He recognized it by the dent in the bumper, which was slightly crumpled and had scuff marks on it. Something didn't seem right, and Alvin tilted his head in thought.

Leaving Akron-Canton behind them, they rushed along with traffic at 75MPH, with Cleveland roughly forty minutes away.

"Alrighty, this is the plan! It's like a hundred degrees, so we're gonna go take a nice swim~"

"And get smelling like lake water!" Spencer exclaimed.

"Not that part of Lake Erie!" laughed Robby. "I made that mistake once..."

"Oh lord~" laughed the husky.

"We'll take a nice swim, enjoy the beach... heh 'beach', and then grab lunch~"

"Hey, I'll take it~" Freddy nodded from the backseat with Spencer.

Robby noticed Alvin staring in the rear view mirror. "You okay, Alvin?"

"I'm just... hey... uhh Spence? Freddo?"

"Yeah?" Freddy replied.

"Spence? Do you recall seeing a red Tahoe when we left the airport?"

"The one that looked broken down on the road?"

"Look behind you~"

Spence turned his head around to see the Tahoe closing in on them. "Wait a second, that is the ratty looking Tahoe!"

Freddy looked back himself. "Hey wait a second, I recognized that vehicle! I saw that piece of shit in Hanover when we were leaving for the highway!"

Spencer and Freddy looked at each other, with worry rapidly appearing.

"Uhh...Alvin? What other vehicles does Shakar's family have...?"

Robby looked back himself, his face dropping to an ashen expression. He put his foot down onto the gas and began accelerating, pushing the silver Tahoe to 80 and then 85MPH to pull away. The Tahoe kept pace.

"Alvin, I want you to call state highway patrol, now, please." Robby said in a calm tone.

"Alvin, I think we have a problem..." Freddy quipped.

Alvin grabbed his phone and began looking up the number for state highway patrol. The red Tahoe was right on top of them, close enough that he couldn't see their headlights or front end anymore. Robby kept accelerating to try and pull away, the Tahoe going faster and faster, and weaving around slow cars on the three-lanes.

"State Highway Patrol, how may I direct this call?"

"Hello, my name is Alvin Paulo, and we're northbound on interstate seventy-seven, between Akron and Cleveland, we have a Tahoe that's been following us for at least... ninety miles... from Newark Ohio."

"Okay, can you give me a license plate number."

Alvin scrutinized his rear view mirror, trying to find a license plate. As Robby weaved by another car, Alvin could read some of it. "Uhh, it's H...Y...F... seven...five..." Suddenly the passenger of the SUV stuck part of his body out of the window, revealing the face of Shakar Marquee. Alvin watched him pull a gun, yell something at him and fire it. The rear view mirror exploded.

"Oh my god! We're being shot at!"

"Sir?"

"We're being shot at!" Alvin shouted.

"What!?" Robby yelled. "Holy fuck! Get down!"

Pandemonium erupted in Alvin's SUV as gunshots rang out. The rear window exploded and the sound of air rushed through the cab. Another gunshot tore through Spencer's window, covering him in little shards of glass.

"We need help!" Alvin screamed. He suddenly felt his SUV buck and swerve when a tire ruptured from a bullet tearing through. The back right tire blew, and almost immediately shredded from the stress. Robby spun and wheel and screamed for everyone to hold on. The Tahoe struck the guard rail and bounced off it. As parts of the bumper and headlight assembly tore apart, Robby tried to spin the wheel to correct, but the Tahoe struck the side of an eighteen wheeler. With a mighty crash, the Tahoe's nose was torn off, just as the semi's tire exploded. Airbags exploded in Alvin's face as his crumbling SUV was thrown over the guardrail and rolled over down an embankment. Crushing in on all four sides, the rear hatch flung open and was ripped off. The Tahoe rolled four times and came to grief upside down in the embankment.

Dazed and confused, Alvin sat upside down. The cabin was quiet, filled with airbag dust and shattered glass. There were moans and mutterings of confusion over what had happened. Alvin unbuckled himself and fell onto his face. The SUV groaned and creaked as everyone tried to get out.

Robby blinked his head and felt his bloody, gashed forehead. "Everyone okay? Alvin? Spencer? Freddy?"

"Not dead..." came Freddy's voice. "Oh fuck we rolled over!"

"Spencer?" Alvin shouted.

"Present!" Spencer called out. "God my shoulder, my shoulder..."

"Freddo?"

"Yeah, I'm not dead...I got some fucking cuts here and there.... You?"

"Battered... breathing..."

"Everyone get out!" Robby shouted.

Alvin kicked his door open and crawled out into the mud and grass. Spencer and Freddy crawled out from a broken window. Alvin saw that his gas tank had ruptured and gas was leaking out everywhere. A single spark could ignite the whole vehicle.

Rushing around, Alvin found his Dad struggling to extract himself. "Guys! Help me!"

"Alvin I'm having a hard time moving..." Robby groaned. "My legs don't really wanna work!"

"Don't move him! Don't!" Freddy shouted. "He could be severely injured!"

"This thing could go up any second!" Alvin shouted.

"No Alvin!"

"Freddy!" Alvin shouted. He struggled to pry the door open, and it took all their strength to rip it open. The door ended up breaking off its hinges, and they tossed it aside. Grabbing Robby, they gently got him out and laid him down.

"Alvin my fucking neck is killing me..." Robby muttered. "Call an ambulance!"

"Where's my phone at?"

"I got my phone!" Freddy shouted.

"Call 9-1-1!"

"Okay!"

Alvin looked up to suddenly see the red Tahoe screech up and his cousin jump out. From the driver's seat was a lanky Rottweiler with dreads, and from the backseat, his grandmother Mary. Mary stared down at him with a look of smug contempt on her face. Shakar grinned with his pistol in hand.

"You motherfucker!" screamed Alvin.

"Try and ruin my life sucka!" Shakar cackled, raising the gun at Alvin. "I'mma take yours nigga!"

"ALVIN!" shouted Robby. Using every ounce of energy he had, the Doberman threw himself up and in front of his son. He yelled as Shakar fired at him, Robby being struck several times with a 9mm. The Doberman was shot through the chest and stomach and fell, right as the gun jammed on Shakar.

"Son of a bitch!" the Rott shouted, only to be tackled by Freddy.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Alvin screamed. He rushed towards Shakar as he and Freddy struggled with him. The other Rott, armed with a cut off 12 gauge, rushed forward and struck Alvin across the face with the butt of his rifle, which knocked Alvin unconscious. He was quickly grabbed as Freddy turned his attention to save his friend.

"No! Let go of him!" Freddy shouted. He shoved the Rott, only to be hit by Shakar and pistol whipped. Freddy was knocked into a daze, and Shakar grabbed him and dragged the lanky wolf to the red Tahoe.

Mary grabbed Alvin and threw him into the back of the Tahoe. His paws were duct taped and Freddy was tossed in as well.

"You're all a bunch of fucking spooks!" screamed Freddy, who got hit in the head with the rifle butt like Alvin. It knocked him out cold. His paws were duct taped as well and the trunk closed. Mary limped back to the back seat.

"C'mon!" Mary shouted. "God damnit! My fucking knee! That fucking Rob!"

"What about the kid?"

"Shoot the motherfucker!" Mary shouted.

The Rott nodded and walked around to find Spencer trying to tend to a severely wounded Robby. He raised his shotgun, only to be shot in the back by the semi-truck driver who was pulled over with a damaged trailer. He unloaded his .45 into the Rott, who staggered and fell to the pavement. Mary jumped into the SUV and peeled out with Shakar. Looking frantic, the Shepherd ran across three lanes of traffic as other cars screeched to a stop. He kicked the shotgun away from the clearly dead Rottweiler and found a frantic Spencer tearing his tanktop apart to make tourniquets.

"KID!" shouted the driver. "You okay!?"

"I need help! Call for help! He's gonna bleed to death! He's been shot!" Spencer yelled.

The Shepherd ran back to his truck to grab his first aid kit, and others, including a state trooper rushed down the embankment to help. Spencer took his torn up tanktop and tried to stop the bleeding as much as possible. Robby laid barely breathing, blood gushing from gunshot wounds to his chest and abdomen. He packed the wounds with his tanktop, his snow white paws now completely red with blood. Spencer's blue eyes were as wide as saucer plates from the adrenaline surging through his veins. Others stepped in to help, giving Spencer roll after roll of gauze Without words he worked to pack as much gauze as he could to slow the bleeding and buy him time for the ambulance.

---

Emerging from his unconsciousness, Alvin slowly returned back to the world. His senses returned slowly; the world sounded murky and distant, gradually revealing itself to be some loud hip hop music that was slightly muffled. He felt very hot, soaked in sweat. He opened his eyes to reveal a ceiling to an attic, raw and unfinished, with the exposed rafters of the roof. His face felt sore, and the Dober gently touched a paw to his face, and winced in pain at the swelling around his left eye. "Oh god... oh god..."

"Alvin!" came Freddy's voice. There were resonating footsteps, and in Alvin's blurry vision, he saw Freddy soon standing over him. Freddy's face was bloody and his brown hair a complete mess. "Alvin are you okay?"

"Where the hell am I?" Alvin asked. He struggled to get up. Freddy grabbed an arm and lifted him up.

"I don't know, I'm trying to figure it out myself...we're in an attic somewhere..."

Freddy paced back and forth and went over to where a small vent was at. He peered through the slots to try and see where he was at. "Holy fuck we're in the Hilltop."

"How can you tell?"

"I can see we're on Hilltonia- there's Sullivant there!" Freddy pointed. Alvin walked over and glanced through the vent to see exactly what Freddy was seeing.

"Yeah, there's the church too."

"We're in the fucking Hilltop... just when I thought I got away from this dump, it pulls me right back in!" Freddy rolled his eyes.

The sound of footsteps made Freddy and Alvin freeze. They spun around at the door to the attic. It swung open to reveal Darius, and Shakar. Darius, an overweight Rottweiler in his fifties, with short, graying Afro hair, carried a pistol in his grip. Shakar looked smug in his amused smirk as he limped towards Alvin and Freddy.

"Boys, my grandma would like to speak to you."

"What pleasure..." Freddy grunted.

Shakar grabbed Alvin, and Darius grabbed Freddy by the arm and yanked him forward. Going downstairs, Alvin found the house wasn't much cooler. The whole house looked bleak and miserable, darkened from curtain drawn windows. Mary sat on the couch watching TV, in essentially night clothes, smoking a smoldering cigarette. Her face grew irritated at the presence of Alvin and Freddy. The blonde wolf kept a stern gaze on Mary, while Alvin looked uncertain.

"Alvin...Alvin...Alvin..." Mary started. She snuffed out her cigarette and stood up. "You have caused me so much grief! Your family murdered my fucking son... and you've caused me so much fucking bullshit..."

"Oh no..." Alvin shook his head. "You only did this to yourself."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"Alvin... you think you're so much better than us... you think that 'cause you have those faggot uncles of yours... giving you whatever the fuck you want! That you're better than us!"

Alvin shook his head no. "Who shot my Dad? Who came back causing trouble for me and my family? And you have the audacity to say I'm causing you trouble!?" Alvin couldn't help but have a bemused smirk. "You're crazy, Mary."

Gritting her teeth in frustration. Mary grabbed her ash tray and threw it at Alvin. He ducked as the glass ashtray shattered against the wall.

"You fucking bitch!" Mary screamed. "How dare you talk to me like that! I AM YOUR GRANDMA!"

"YOU ARE A PSYCHOPATH!" Alvin screamed in return.

Mary was so enraged that she grabbed Alvin and slapped him across the face repeatedly. She screamed and screamed as she hit Alvin over and over again. Alvin slapped her back and shoved her away, only to be thrown to the ground by Shakar. Freddy tried to intervene, only to be yanked back by Darius. Freddy spun around and kicked Darius in the crotch, which dropped him to the floor. Shakar pistol whipped Freddy and shoved him next to Alvin on the floor.

"Oh god... my nuts!" Darius yelled on the floor.

"Sorry ass dickhead!" Freddy shouted.

Alvin slowly got up to Mary glaring at him.

"I fucking hate you Alvin! I fucking hate you! Sydney should have aborted your motherfucking ass! You took my fucking welfare money away! You act like you're so much smarter and better than all of us! And you have those fucking faggot uncles who cause me SO MUCH TROUBLE! I fucking hate every inch of your motherfucking ass you lil' ugly mongrel!" Mary screamed. "DARIUS! Get your weak ass off the fucking ground!"

"I'm gonna shoot that motherfucker little honky!" Darius shouted. He aimed his gun at Freddy; the blonde wolf looked ashen at staring down the barrel of a revolver. Alvin put himself in front of Freddy defiantly.

"If you're gonna kill him, you're gonna kill me too." Alvin glared. "Leave Freddo out of this. This is between you and me, Mary."

"Oh no...you two are gonna make me some money when I ransom your asses!" Mary exclaimed.

"This is who you are, Mary." Alvin shook his head. "You're many things... you're sick, and evil... but in the end...you're just a pathetic crook."

"And what do you think you are? Einstein? Ain't nobody want you Alvin! You think anyone gives a shit about you? Look what that cop did to you! Look at how people have treated you with your hair! You're just a fucking nigger like the rest of us! You think you're someone better because you're mixed... whatever South American mutt you are! People think you're no better than us! This is why I'm like this! My family had to suffer because of discrimination, and it turned us into this life we have to live! Don't you understand that? You're such a fucking smart motherfucker, and you don't get it?"

"You live this life because you chose to be a crook." Alvin scoffed. "This ain't because of bigotry. This is because you're stupid."

Mary took a step back from Alvin's insult.

"I don't dwell on the past, and I don't dwell on what others think of me, my mixed status, my hair, none of that. I don't give a shit."

Freddy looked shocked at Alvin's bravery on display. The usually unemotional wolf looked mortified of the whole situation at hand.

"You leave Freddo alone. If you wanna hurt someone, you hurt me... not him..."

Mary smirked a bit and laughed. "You must be you're becoming a grown ass man... Mister tough guy!"

Alvin stared Mary down.

"I should have fucked you up for calling me stupid!" Mary pointed. "I should have fucked you up! But I let you have that one... but bitch let me tell you something... grandson or not! You ever pull that fucking shit again, that will be your last day on this earth! I will bury you into the fucking ground! You stand here and act like you're so much better because you value your education... well lemme tell you what motherfucker! Nobody's gonna give a shit if you're educated! You're just a fucking nigger! You're just a mutt in everyone's eyes! And you suddenly giving a shit about your Dad being shot?"

"Yo Dad wasn't even in your life... so why give a shit now!" laughed Shakar. "Karma for killin' my Dad!"

Alvin ground his teeth.

"Nobody gonna give a shit about you Alvin! Nobody's gonna want you! Your Dad didn't want you in his life for all those years, and now you're gonna give a shit about him?" Mary yelled. "And you think you're this little punk ass tough shit starin' me down and protecting your lil' honky ass reject of a friend? You should have been fucking aborted! Just as I should have aborted your mother's motherfucking ass! Then I'd never have to deal with you! Ever! And you just take all this like a tough little FUCKER!"

Mary grabbed a vase and threw it at Alvin, which exploded against the wall. Alvin barely flinched.

"TAKE 'EM BACK TO THE ATTIC!" Mary screamed at her boyfriend.

"Let's just ransom them and get it over with!" Darius exclaimed.

Alvin and Freddy were grabbed and taken back up to the attic. Mary watched them disappear from view with a disgusted gaze on her aged, pudgy face. She lit another cigarette and sat back down on the couch, grumbling to herself.

---

Curly locks of hair stuck to Alvin's sweat drenched, aching face. The Doberman sat on the floor looking glum as Freddy paced back and forth. The stagnant attic heat was unforgiving. Feeling resigned to fate, Alvin didn't know what to do.

"I gotta figure out how to get the fuck outta here..." Freddy said, over the deafening music Shakar was playing downstairs. "We gotta fight this Alvin!"

"I don't know what to do, or whether I should care at this point..." Alvin sighed. "They... they killed my Dad..."

"Oh no...Alvin... don't think that!" Freddy said.

"They shot him multiple times!" Alvin exclaimed. "He... took those bullets and saved our lives..."

"I hope Spencer is okay..." Freddy sighed. "If I could have just grabbed the gun..."

"It wouldn't have mattered... and I should have saw this coming." Alvin shook his head. "God damnit, Freddo... I should have saw this coming."

"Don't beat yourself up... look... I need you to be ready to bust outta here." Freddy said as he sat down next to Alvin. "They're not gonna get us without a fight."

"What are we gonna do? We're locked up here."

"I don't know yet..."

"Freddy... I'm sorry I dragged you back into this mess..."

"Hey, look, don't say sorry for something that's not your fault. You didn't do anything to these people- they're just out looking for trouble." Freddy comforted. "And I'm used to this shit- I only had to deal with shitty people in Hilltop for the first fourteen years of my life!"

"I don't have my uncles to fall back on this time..."

"We'll get out of this alive~"

The attic door opened to reveal Alvin's two younger cousins, Brandon and Donta. Both were lanky young teens, aged thirteen and fourteen. Unlike the rough and tough Shakar, both had shy, reserved faces as they held bottles of water.

"Grandma doesn't want you two dying up here, so here's some water." Brandon said in a shy voice.

"What a nice person..." Freddy rolled his eyes.

"Grandma says you cost more alive~" Donta chuckled.

Alvin accepted a bottle of water from them. Brandon and Donta both had looks of reservation on their face.

"Alvin, I'm sorry about this." Donta admitted.

"It's not your fault." Alvin shrugged.

"We don't want to make Grandma upset..." Brandon quietly said.

Alvin sat up and looked at his cousins. "Is this something you really want to do?"

The two looked at each other again. "Well... not really."

"What do you guys want to do with your lives?"

"Basketball~" Brandon quipped.

Donta scratched his chin. "I'd like to do something with nature... I like that."

"So what's stopping you?"

"Grandma."

"Well this is your chance..." Freddy suggested. "How do we get out of here?"

Donta looked at Brandon and nodded. "Don't tell anyone I told you this... but that vent comes off if you rotate it to the right..."

"We'll distract her for as long as we can~" Brandon said. They turned and left, closing the door and locking it behind them.

"Well fuck me silly!" Freddy grinned. "Our ticket out of- OOOP!"

Freddy tripped and fell onto an old dresser. He caught himself and in the process, knocked one of the drawers open, only to reveal a bunch of money stowed inside. Freddy's blue eyes went huge; inside the drawer was stacks and stacks of thousand dollar bills, all wrapped up and fresh looking. He opened other drawers and found stacks after stacks after stacks of money and some notebooks and journals.

"Oh my god, Alvin."

Alvin got up and walked over to suddenly stare at all the money. His eyes went huge. "Holy crap."

"There has to be almost like a million dollars here..." Freddy said. He frantically looked around the attic and found a backpack lying in the corner. He quickly opened it up and started stuffing wads of money into it.

"What are you doing!?" Alvin asked frantically.

"I'm taking it!" Freddy snapped. "That sorry-ass clown took my lunch money when I was twelve? Well this is payback motherfucker! Adjusted for inflation!"

"Oh my god what if they have records?"

"RECORDS!?" Freddy snapped. "Do you think these people keep records?"

"Well I don't know! That's a lot of money-"

"What are they gonna with records, Alvin? Pay taxes!?"

Alvin glanced around and saw a duffel bag. He quickly grabbed it and began stuffing it full of money. He grabbed the notebooks, notepads, everything, and stuffed it inside. Alvin guessed that he had almost a half a million stuffed in the bag as he zipped it up.

Freddy zipped his backpack up and threw it on. "You ready to bust outta here?"

"Let's do it!"

Freddy grabbed the vent and rotated it to the right. True to Donta's word, the vent popped out and he threw it aside, which landed on the ground with a mighty bang. Alvin climbed out first through the vent and onto the roof of the back porch. Just as Freddy was prepared to climb out, the door swung open to reveal Mary.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" she screamed.

Thinking fast, Freddy grabbed the first thing he saw, an old dusty vase. He threw it and it struck Mary in the head; she tumbled backwards and fell down the stairs, taking Shakar and Darius out with her.

"Wide load coming down!" Freddy laughed as he climbed down.

Using an old antenna pole, Alvin and Freddy climbed down and took off running. They jumped the fence and just rounded the corner of the old garage when Darius ran out and fired at them with his revolver.

"Oh shit! He's shooting at us!" Alvin yelled.

"Just run!" Freddy yelled.

Rushing down the alleyway, they cut through a side yard, practically pushing a homeowner to the ground, who yelled at them.

"Sorry!" Alvin yelled.

"I don't have a plan B!" Freddy yelled to Alvin.

"Just keep running!"

"To Sullivant! To Sullivant!" Freddy pointed.

All Alvin could hear was his heart frantically pounding and his heavy, labored breathing. He wasn't sure how they would escape the Hilltop, or even hide from Mary and Darius. His best bet was running into a police cruiser, or going somewhere to call the police. Fate was in their favor.

Just as they got off Wrexham Avenue, and were running onto Sullivant, Alvin saw a black Charger come screeching up. It had red and blue lights flashing and the windows were down.

"ALVIN! GET INSIDE!" came the booming voice of Gary Dove screaming at them.

"Freddy! Get in! It's the FBI!"

Alvin rushed inside the front passenger seat, and Freddy practically dove in through the back door. Dove quickly took off as they buckled up. With only seconds to spare, Freddy saw Mary and Darius in their car, hunting for them. Freddy flipped them off as they drove by.

"Special Agent Gary Dove, reporting for duty!" he greeted Alvin and Freddy. "You must be Fred Filton."

"In the flesh..." Freddy said, breathing a sigh of relief. He pushed his sweaty, brown hair out of his face. "Holy fuck can we turn the AC up a bit more?"

"I have the both Fred and Alvin- they are safe and with me, looking to head to the station. Over." Dove radioed.

"How is my Dad, Dove? Do you know anything?"

"I don't sadly. Your uncle said he was shot and was critical in Cleveland the last I heard."

"Oh my god... oh my god... I need to see him? Dove can I make a call please!?"

Dove handed his personal cellphone to Alvin, who frantically dialed Joey's number.

"Hello, Dove?"

"Uncle Joey! Uncle Joey! I'm alive! I'm okay!"

"Oh my god, Alvin! I am so happy to hear your voice. I can breathe a bit better- Rob! Alvin is on the line!" Joey shouted in joy.

"How is my Dad? Uncle Joey? Is my Dad still alive?"

"Your Dad is still alive... he just went into surgery... extremely critical. Airlifted here to the Cleveland clinic. They had to restart his heart when he got here..."

"Oh my god..."

"Gimme the phone- Alvin! It's Rob."

"Uncle Rob! So nice to hear from you!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah! I am! So is Freddo. What about Spence?"

"Spence is with us. He's okay. Shaken up, but okay."

"I gotta get to Cleveland- Dove, can we get to Cleveland?"

"Tell Dove to go to the airport, and get on 'Coneflower', and get to Cleveland by air. I'm going to call Cyrus too."

"Rob!" Freddy called from the backseat. "Tell Cy that I'm not dead!"

"Will do!"

Freddy and Alvin laughed with excitement. They had made it out alive. Dove kept his sirens going and rushed onto I-70 from the Sullivant Avenue onramp. Gunning the engine, he kept his speed up as he raced back to Newark, forty-minutes away. Radioing dispatch, he informed his superiors that Alvin and Freddy were under his care, and he was heading to Cleveland with them and to inform the Cleveland branch of his arrival.

"We should stop meeting like this~" Dove chuckled. "Nice to meet you Fred."

"Heh, nice to meet you as well, Dove." Freddy said, breathing a sigh of relief.

---

Rumbling into Burke Lakefront Airport was "Coneflower", the big curvaceous Lockheed having been flown at maximum speed by Rob's flight crew. Taxiing in on the inboard radials, the polished silver Super Constellation was guided in by ground crew, who had the plane turn and park next to Rob and Joey's Su-7's, which they had flown directly from Chicago upon hearing the news. Not far away, Alvin spotted the silver and blue Convair 340 that was owned by Spencer's dad, Varg Eikemo, a record producer.

Alvin watched from the forward cabin as the inboard radials were powered off. The huge flat-tipped Curtiss propellers windmilled to a stop. Getting up, the Dober walked to the tail and opened the hatch, watching as an airstair was pushed up against the fuselage. Alvin wasted no time to come running down the stairs. Emerging through the hatch next was Freddy, followed by his uncle Cyrus, and Agent Dove.

Alvin spotted Rob and Joey approaching on the tarmac, still in flight gear, and he ran towards them. Alvin was immediately hugged by Joey, who gave a really tight bear hug.

"Alvin! Alvin!" Joey called out. "Oh lord, I'm so relieved you're okay~"

"Uncle Joey..." Alvin muttered, breathing a sigh of relief as he hugged him. "Lord... what an adventure..."

"C'mon, let's get back to the hospital~"

Hopping in a rented van, Rob drove everyone to the Cleveland Clinic. The drive felt agonizingly long for Alvin, who winced from a bad tension headache. Nobody said much of anything in the cab; it was an uneasy quiet amongst everyone.

Returning to the hospital, Alvin followed his uncles and the others back to the ER waiting area. With a mask clamped onto his face tightly, Alvin felt like he was venturing into a tidal wave of sickness. Plastic sealed off certain areas for suspected Covid cases, and the sounds of dry, heaving coughs filled the ambience. Ohio was in the midst of the Delta wave of the pandemic. In the waiting area, Alvin saw Spencer sitting with his adopted parents, Varg and Lily Eikemo.

"Spence!" Alvin called.

"Alvin! You made it!" Spencer cheered as he ran up and gave his friend a hug. He wore a new t-shirt that his parents had brought him. They laughed and hugged each other excitedly in a moment of bliss. "Freddo! You're alive!"

"I am!" Freddy laughed. "I smell and feel like shit though..."

Getting a chance to get cleaned up, Alvin and Freddy were soon dressed in t-shirts that the hospital had given them, bearing the logo of the Cleveland Clinic. Alvin and Freddy both got their bruises checked over by an emergency room doctor, and Alvin was given some Advil and an ice pack for his new black eye. He couldn't help but quip that "he couldn't look any uglier".

Everyone went to a consultation room, to get an update on Robby's condition as he underwent emergency surgery. Andrew and Marie wanted everyone to know and invited Spencer's family, and Agent Dove into the room as well. Everyone took a seat around the table and waited for the surgeon, who showed up about ten minutes later.

"Good evening everyone~" the surgeon greeted. He was a burly Saint Bernard, who wore a white lab coat over his green scrubs. He had a blue surgical mask over his muzzle, like everybody else. "I hope this evening has been good for you, given the circumstances."

"It's been...a little bit of a wild ride..." Alvin spoke up.

"Understandable." He nodded. "I bring good news that Roberto has made it through surgery, though he lost a lot of blood and we're undergoing our second transfusion right now. He's in the recovery room being prepared to be transferred to the S-ICU."

The doctor grabbed his manila file and pulled out some x-rays, which he shoved up onto the display and turned on. "Roberto had sustained a serious neck injury in the crash, and you can see the vertebrae here that's dislocated. It has bruised the spinal cord, as seen here."

"Is he going to be paralyzed?" Marie asked, full of worry.

"No. I don't think paralysis is going to be the end result. But he will have to undergo physical therapy and most likely learn how to walk again."

The surgeon went on to explain the extent of Robby's injuries. He was shot five times, three in the abdomen, and two through the chest. Both lungs were hit and collapsed, and one bullet came within an inch of hitting his heart. For his abdominal injuries, surgeons had to repair his liver and repair a defect with his large intestine. Robby also lost his spleen. He had lost enough blood that he nearly bled to death by the time he had come to Cleveland. He would need another transfusion through the night, once he was in the ICU.

"I would say that the next thirty-six hours will be critical in his prognosis." The surgeon concluded. His eyes turned to look at Spencer in the crowd. "I must remark to all of you that you should thank your friend here, Spencer Eikemo. I credit him to saving Roberto's life."

Spencer blushed a bit from being the center of attention.

"Spencer here had used his shirt to pack the wounds to slow the bleeding. Had he not done that, Roberto would have died at the crime scene. There's no doubt in my mind. Young man, you saved his life."

"I'm proud of you!" Varg said as he put a beefy tattooed arm around his son and pulled him close.

"Sometimes you just do what you gotta do~" Spencer said, trying to downplay his actions. "I was faced with an issue, and if I didn't do it, he would have died. There was no choice~"

"Can I see my Dad?" Alvin asked.

"Sadly, no." the surgeon shook his head. "The ICU is off limits except for critical care personnel due to Covid protocols."

Alvin frowned.

After a few more back and forth questions from Andrew and Marie, Alvin got a chance to see Robby from the ICU entrance. Suited up in PPE, Alvin felt like he was venturing into dangerous waters as he donned a pair of goggles and a doubled up N95 mask.

The surgeon led him up to the third floor, where the surgical intensive care unit was located at. Alvin walked up to the door of the ICU, which had a glass window that was reinforced. Peering inside, Alvin was greeted to a miserable sight of the ICU packed full of Covid patients on ventilators. The young, and the old, the feeble, and fit, all unconscious, on ventilators. Tired nurses stood around at their posts. Alvin's eyes soon spotted his father, lying hooked up to a ventilator in a bed. It didn't seem real to Alvin to see his dad in such bad condition. There were wires, and tubes all over him, leading into his arms. He had chest tubes, everything. Robby looked in really bad shape as a nurse tended to his IV's.

Alvin felt a sudden upwelling of emotion that overwhelmed him. Tears welled up and streamed from his eyes, and he turned a slight shade of red trying to hold it all in. Alvin turned around and stormed away in disgust and sadness. All the emotions he held in from being kidnapped, screamed at by Mary, threatened with a gun, everything. Alvin got into the elevator and broke down crying once the doors closed.

---

Light was fading away as everyone but Andrew and Marie flew on home to Newark. In formation, "Coneflower" the Super Constellation held formation with the Convairliner and two Su-7's. The L-1049E gracefully flew through the patchy cloud filled sky, the clouds colored by the dim orange light of the sinking sun. Its four radial engines burbled, a deep mesmerizing drone of propellers. The exhaust stubs glowed with blue flames that flickered.

Inside the cabin, Alvin sat near the wing at a window, watching the big propellers churn and the blue flames lick and flicker. The Doberman looked mentally exhausted as he sat with his head propped up. In the rear part of the cabin, Agent Dove spoke to Rob, Joey, and Cyrus over the situation. Freddy and Spencer rode in the tail of the plane, in Rob's private quarters.

Alvin sat alone and thought about everything that had happened lately. It was such an intense mix of emotions and frustrations. The feeling of hatred at Mary, Shakar, Darius. That whole side of the family, or what was left of them. It made Alvin's blood boil that they shot and almost killed his Dad. They could have killed all of them. Alvin felt dumb luck saved his life again.

After a long thinking session, and a slow "cooling off", Alvin got up and quietly went back to the tail of the plane. He stepped through the bulkheads separating the compartments. There was the forward lounge, a galley area, a middle section that looked something like a commercial airliner with rows of seats, and another bulkhead for restrooms that finally led to the private quarter in the tail of the plane. Back in the aft compartment, it was quieter, and the tail housed Rob's office and bedroom. Freddy sat on the bed, while Spencer leaned against the wall.

"I found this dresser full of money!" Freddy told Spencer all excitedly. "Full of Benjamins! I had to have taken at least a half million... so close! And the FBI took it for evidence..."

"Did you really think they'd let you just go home with that money?"

"I mean...I tried..." Freddy shook his head. "Fuckers. Uncle Sam gets his cash..."

Spencer closed his eyes and laughed.

"Hey Alvin~" Freddy said. The Dober walked over and sat down at Rob's desk, looking burned out as he sat with a glum expression.

"Alvin are you alright?" Spencer asked.

"You're burned out too, aren'tcha." Freddy suggested.

"Yes." Alvin admitted.

Freddy and Spencer frowned.

Alvin smacked his paws on the desk. "You know...all I wanted to do was just make a documentary on my hometown... and instead I get this... whatever you call it... clusterfuck!"

Alvin let out a sardonic laugh. "All I wanted to do was videotape stuff in Hilltop! That's it! And instead I get my crazy family come back and start shit again!"

"Well that's not your fault, Alvin." Spencer tried to reason. "That's them just doing...whatever..."

"What the fuck does Mary have against you, Alvin?" Freddy asked.

"I have no idea?" Alvin exclaimed. "For as long as I can remember as a kid, Mary just shown me and Mom contempt... but she always loved Tyrone. Tyrone was her favorite, because he was mister tough guy who got married and had a couple kids before Aunt Shirley died. I have no idea what... I've always suspected some stuff... but who knows... I just... I have no idea guys."

"Mary was just a loud mouth bitch." Freddy recalled. "She always acted like she had a chip on her shoulder against the world. Her rambling word salad about bigotry and discrimination, yada fucking yada... What a fucking balloon head!"

"I know Mary got abused by her parents... that's it." Alvin recalled. "That's as much as I remember."

"So she takes it out on us..." Spencer grumbled.

"That's how Mary has always been. Just yell and scream and hit..." Alvin shook his head.

"Well with how Dove sounded...her fat ass is gonna get taken down." Freddy chuckled. "Serves her right!"

"I can't believe Shakar shot my Dad..." Alvin muttered. "Dad took those bullets and saved our lives..."

Freddy had a look of thought on his face. He slowly pushed some locks of hair out of his face. "I've been through some rough shit growing up, but I've never been kidnapped or held at gunpoint, or shot at. It's... really given me a whole new perspective on things..."

"Yeah." Alvin agreed. "Spence... I don't know how I'd ever repay you for saving my Dad's life."

"Just be my friend, that's all." Spencer shrugged. "I was faced with a problem... and I did what I could to help him... that's what friends do, Alvin~"

"Now I worry about what's to come..."

"Don't worry about it." Spencer said. "What will be will be."

"I worry about my Dad."

"It's outta your hands, Alvin." Freddy said.

"I guess so." Alvin sighed. "Man... the past couple of years have been nuts."

"This is like... the crescendo of building insanity." Spencer admitted. "The pandemic has made everyone whacko."

"It's intense." Freddy nodded. "In a sick way, this pandemic has shown me people's true colors. And I love it for that reason only."

"It's shown me who true friends are." Spencer quipped.

"I got two of 'em here with me~" chuckled Alvin. A smile emerged on his bruised and tired face.

---

Four Days Later

Judgment day.

Maintaining a cool and collected demeanor, Alvin put his turn signal on and slowed down for the exit ramp off I-70. Near the heart of downtown Columbus, Alvin followed his GPS to the headquarters of the Columbus Police Department. Turning the wheel, Alvin pulled his new Tahoe into the parking lot, the metallic blue SUV swinging around in a turn. Alvin stopped, backed up, and parked his vehicle in an open area. He was ready to confront Mary for the final time. Alvin hopped out with his uncles and locked his SUV up. As he walked to the entrance, he had a thought about everything that had happened over the past four days. It had been one event after another.

After two days in a coma, his dad woke up and began the long recovery process. He had trouble moving his limbs on account of his neck injury, and while he wasn't going to be paralyzed, a long road of physical therapy was ensured. Spending another two days in the ICU, he recovered well enough to be moved to a private room. Alvin could breathe a sigh of relief to his father's survival.

Stealing the money and notebooks from Mary's attic was the tip of the iceberg. Freddy and Alvin had unknowingly uncovered a massive criminal conspiracy, and the evidence was enough for the FBI to get a warrant to storm the house. Several million dollars were found stashed throughout the house, and evidence linking Mary and Darius to multiple drug rings and canine trafficking groups were recovered. The US Marshals also found Shakar and arrested him and charged him with not only breaking out of jail, but attempted murder and firearms charges. Mary was arrested and charged with kidnapping, racketeering, extortion, attempted murder, and federal charges for her alleged role in canine trafficking.

Darius, on the other hand, escaped justice; when confronted with evidence linking him to numerous criminal offenses, he got so upset that he had a heart attack and died in front of everyone. Sure enough, he had damned himself by keeping numerous records of drug transactions, names, and numbers of hundreds of people. "Darius sunk their world", Alvin realized. Rob sarcastically had quipped that "Darius was so into a life of crime that his body whacked itself" and that he could "fuck a pot of coffee up".

Alvin's young cousins, Brandon and Donta Marquee, were taken away and made a ward of the state. George Marquee stepped in and was granted emergency custody, and put a petition in to permanently adopt them into his family. Alvin knew they'd be safe with him.

Getting checked in, Alvin was escorted with his uncles to a large room that had some cubicles in it. It looked like a really large, multipurpose questioning room. There were some police officers standing around with US Marshals and a couple FBI Agents, drinking coffee and chatting quietly amongst themselves. Rob saw Agent Dove standing with his Cleveland counterpart, Special Agent Clarke.

A door opened on the other end, and soon came out a handcuffed Mary, being escorted by two Marshals. She wore a bright orange jumpsuit with an ID number attached to it. Looking tired and defeated, the overweight Rottweiler was led to a chair, where she sat down at. The two Marshals stood close by on both ends of her.

Alvin and Mary stared at each other in an uncomfortable silence. Alvin held firm and his face was unflinching. He gave a stern, contemptful stare. Mary's usually cross expression was instead a look of hopelessness, a resignation to her fate. Rob and Joey stood back to one end of the room, and the other cops stood off in the distance. Alvin and Mary were practically the center of everyone's attention.

"Alvin! This was all a big misunderstanding!" Mary suddenly exclaimed. "Tell everyone that! This was a big misunderstanding?"

"A misunderstanding? What is there to misunderstand?" Alvin asked.

"They're charging me with all these crimes! All these offenses! Threatening years and years in jail! Tell them it was a mistake!"

"How is this a mistake? The evidence speaks for itself!"

"Mister Paulo, is this the woman who was present at your kidnapping?"

"Yes." Alvin nodded. His eyes did not leave Mary's face. "Mary Marquee was present. Mary Marquee was also responsible for the idea of extorting money off me in July."

"No that is not true!" Mary yelled.

"Mary, why are you lying?"

"You don't DARE call me Mary! I am your Grandma!" Mary shouted.

"You are a grandma in name only!" Alvin protested. "When have you ever been a grandma to me?"

"How about that time I took all of you to the zoo?"

"Oh the one time..." Alvin shook his head. "You are grasping at straws..."

"You tell them! They're making me out to be come kind of monster! Am I a monster, Alvin?"

"Yes."

Mary looked shocked.

Alvin ground his teeth to maintain his calm. "You screamed, yelled, and hit me all the time. I still remember you hitting me in the head with the ash tray because of a mistake on the welfare that you were siphoning off my mom, that you basically drove to insanity. You have been a constant source of chaos in my life! And you don't seem to understand that? You seem willfully obtuse to how you ended up in that jumpsuit!"

Mary's face recoiled from the insult, her face scrunching up in rage.

"Mary you always had a thing against me and my mom. You always screamed at Sydney- nothing she could do was ever right. You screamed, you hit her, you never had anything nice to say... you turned her into a damn prostitute to make more money! And thus here's me, today. You never did anything of the sort to Tyrone or anyone! Shakar was your favorite! Brandon... Donta... Tyrone could do no wrong, but Sydney, and myself... could do no right~ Why?"

Mary took a long time to respond to Alvin. The room was so quiet, the only ambience being the air conditioner faintly humming with the lights.

"Alvin... you'd never understand..." Mary quietly said.

"Why?"

Mary looked regretful. "I... I... I don't remember when Dad started to hurt me... I think I was a little kid... and... Dad would... always- he would always like to touch me down there... do all kinds of sick shit with me... He would... let his brother come over too and fuck me... and it happened all the time... at all hours... and if I tried to fight back... he'd hit me. He'd turn me black n' blue! He'd tell me to shut my fat ass up and that it was good for me! And Mom... she'd never say anything... she'd just look away... 'that's what men do' is what she said to me once... They made me feel so hopeless and hated..."

Mary had tears well up in her eyes. Her words were choked up. "I hated Sydney because... she's Dad's daughter... Dad fucked me and knocked me up... and that's how Sydney came about... and I always hated her because she reminded me of what he did... constantly... and then when you were born... it reminded me even more..."

Alvin took a step back, and looked queasy. His eye twitched a bit.

"I always hated you because you reminded me of Joe. I always hated Sydney because she reminded me of Joe! Don't you get it now Alvin? Look what my father made me into! Look at where I'm going!?"

Alvin looked around at all the uncomfortable stares. Even Rob and Joey looked slightly shocked.

"I should have got an abortion! But I wasn't able to... If I could I wouldn't have been so fucked up in the head! Don't you get it now Alvin? Are you happy that your crazy ass grandma is getting hauled off to jail because that's what the system does to us?"

"Mary you're going to jail because of your own undoing." Alvin said in a calm tone.

Mary looked at Alvin with surprise on her face.

"Mary, you don't get it do you? You're not going to prison because of who you are... or because you got abused... or because of your color and background. You're going to prison because you made these terrible decisions, and now you have to pay the consequences!"

"Look at you sticking up for the same people who gave you those black eyes!"

"Yeah, and I got a new one because of you." Alvin glared. "What happened was wrong, but I'm not gonna dwell on it like you."

"Dwell on it!"

"Yeah!"

Mary grew cross and irate. "You must think you're a smart lil' motherfucka huh? Nobody gonna give a fuck that you're smart! Nobody in this room give a fuck about how smart you are, because they all think you're a fucking nigger, Alvin? You get that, boy? You're a fucking nigger to them!"

"I don't care what they think of me."

"You think anyone gives a shit about you?" Mary scoffed. "You think your faggot uncles give a shit about you? You're just a fucking nigger to them too!"

Alvin put his foot down. "Enough! I know for one I am not a nigger, I'm not a nigga, I'm not a thug, or anything. I'm Alvin Paulo. I'm mixed, and that's who I am. I don't live for other people's opinion. And I especially don't live for yours. This is the problem with this community, and you're the epitome of it! You value being street smart, tough, and acting hard, verses getting smart. This is why the community is in the shape that it is! YES. There's bigotry, yes, there's discrimination, yes, there's problems like that. But the grievances you bitch about? They're self made, Mary. You put yourself in the position you're in now. You made bad decisions and now you don't want to fess up to it. Don't you understand that you're facing a virtual life sentence!? You're fifty-seven years old, facing up to forty years in prison, with parole only after twenty-five years! That puts you at eighty-two if you're still alive!"

Mary backed away from Alvin's withering insults. Alvin asserted himself over Mary, and seemed to virtually dominate his abusive grandmother.

"You ruined Sydney's life, you ruined Tyrone's life, Shakar's... don't you get that? You did all this to yourself!"

"NO!"

"YES!" Alvin yelled. "Yes you did! So stop trying to deflect blame and accept that you are at fault~"

"Well fuck you then you little runt!" Mary hissed. Alvin motioned to one of the cops that he was done with his meeting with Mary.

"You're just a fucking minstrel show!" Mary screamed. "You look mixed, but inside you're just a honky like all these motherfuckers!"

Alvin held firm. "Sorry Mary. I don't dance."

The young Dober turned and walked away, his uncles following close by. He exited through a door, and Mary watched him get buzzed through the exit, slipping from view. She screamed and screamed Alvin's name, cursing him and swearing at him as the Marshals grabbed her and escorted her back to her cell.

Alvin finished his trip to the police station by signing some paperwork and answering a couple of questions that the prosecutor had. Alvin ultimately declined to press any charges on Mary, as "she's screwed enough as it is". Getting a copy of some paperwork, Alvin left with his uncles. He didn't say anything as he walked outside, back into the heat, to get to his new Tahoe.

"Alvin..." came Joey's voice.

Alvin stopped at his SUV and turned around to see Joey approach him. Looking a bit glum and mentally exhausted, Alvin watched and felt Joey put his arms around him for a warm hug. Alvin put his arms around his uncle and hugged him tightly.

"I love you Alvin. And I want you to know that~" Joey smiled.

"I love you too Uncle Joey!"

Rob gave Alvin a tight hug. "You're my nephew from another mother, but you are MY nephew, and I love you like blood family. You're like a son to me."

"Thank you Uncle Rob~ I love you too!" Alvin said, feeling more calm and assured.

---

As the last days of summer vacation wound down, Alvin ended the final week of summer break down in Cincinnati, at an award ceremony on the tarmac of Lunken Field. The sun shone brightly and the heat radiated off the cracked, sun bleached pavement of the tarmac of a Friday afternoon. The glistening "Coneflower" formed the backdrop of the ceremony as Alvin and Freddy were thanked by the FBI for their contribution in taking down a drug and trafficking ring. Unbeknownst to them in the heat of the moment of escape, Alvin had taken a notebook which contained detail information about Ohio's underground canine trafficking rings; twenty people were rescued thanks to him, including a young mother and her infant child. Dozens were arrested, and potentially hundreds more were being hunted down in a nationwide dragnet by the FBI. With recommendation from Dove, Alvin and Freddy were commemorated by the FBI director from Quantico. The money that they had stolen, was gifted to them, totaling 1.3 million dollars, split between them. The rest of the money was split between the FBI and the survivors. Even Robby would get some money as compensation.

"These young men here have done a great service for their community." The FBI director said to the media and family, who stood around the plane with an endless barrage of photographs. "And the FBI is ever grateful for your chance encounter with the smoking gun that we needed to fulfill our promise in smashing canine trafficking. Twenty victims of this heinous crime were saved, and potentially hundreds more will be liberated in the coming days, as we continue our relentless search for the perpetrators responsible for this modern evil. Thank you."

There was a round of applause from Alvin and Freddy's family, who clapped excitedly. Alvin held up his trophy with a big grin, as he was photographed by the press from all over the country. Freddy looked somewhat reserved, but with a smile on his face as he showed off his trophy. Amongst their family, Spencer stood with his Betacam, capturing the event through his camera lens onto tape.

As the ceremony wound down, Alvin and Freddy were swarmed by cameras and reporters from the media. With cameras and microphones shoved into their faces, Alvin and Freddy calmly answered questions from all the reporters. They talked about what they had witnessed, and how they managed to escape. Some of the questions turned to Alvin's police brutality case, which threw him off unexpectedly. But Alvin, calm and collected, answered as best he could, giving a similar statement to what he had previously put out. Giving a final thanks to Agent Dove, and the Quantico director, everyone climbed back aboard the L-1049E, which was fired up and backed out on its own power. As cameras rolled, the glistening Lockheed took back off for the short hop back to Newark. Its four radials roared as the Constellation took off and climbed into the cloudless blue sky.

"Whew!" Alvin breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door to Rob's office. He unbuttoned the collar to his shirt and loosened his necktie. Freddy did the same.

"I feel like I'm being strangled!" the wolf laughed as he took his dress shirt off, wearing just his black tanktop beneath. He adjusted his newly braided ponytail, which now looked exactly like his uncle's Viking braid pattern.

"Well guys... how do you feel?" Spencer asked as he labeled his videotape.

"Sweaty!" Freddy laughed. "Damn hot, and too many damn cameras shoved in my face!"

"If it bleeds it sells~" teased Alvin with a snort. "I mean... it's a nice trophy... and the money is great..."

"Money's always great, Alvin!" Freddy interjected.

"...but one should always do the right thing." Alvin concluded.

"Yeah, true~" Freddy said more quietly.

"I think you fixed your family problem too." Spencer teased.

"That's one way of putting it." Grinned Freddy. "Throw em in jail and toss the key!"

"I mean... they did it to themselves..." Alvin shrugged. "I'm just... well... I don't know what to say about what Mary told me..."

"What was that?" Freddy asked.

"My mom... and I guess... my very essence... My mom was the product of incest."

Freddy sat up on the bed and Spencer sat up in the desk chair.

"Wow." They muttered.

"It finally explains why Mary hated me so much. Why she was so abusive." Alvin said in a quiet, calm tone.

"The evil that men do..."

"Yeah." Alvin nodded.

"You okay, Alvin?"

"Yeah." He said, mustering a smile. "Mary is a product of her environment. It's the vicious cycle of abuse. The abused become the abuser, and they don't realize it until it's too late. But it's her damn fault that she's on her way to prison alone. Her family is all gone, her children are gone... everyone. But you live by the sword you die by it too."

"Yeah." Freddy nodded.

"I spoke to Shakar yesterday on the phone. He apologized to me for shooting my dad... but whether that's genuine... I don't really care. He's about to have a rude awakening..."

"Thirty years right?"

"Yeah!" Alvin exclaimed. "He'll be... almost fifty when he's released?"

"Wow."

"Basically threw his whole life away, and for what? So he could act tough? Pfft."

"I remember Shakar from way back when... and I thought he'd be something not like the typical Hilltop scum." Freddy shook his head. "Remember how we all would run around and play basketball?"

"Or swim at the big Darby when your Mom would take us there."

"Of all the people we hung out with... I think we're the only ones left that didn't get fucked up or fucked our lives over." Freddy quipped.

"Shakar said that prison was inevitable for him, it was 'inevitable for us'... I mean... don't do illegal activities that land you in prison?" Alvin sarcastically said with a snort at the end. "Silly!"

"Crazy!" Spencer laughed.

"I get that there's profiling and the disproportionate number of African Americans incarcerated per capita... and the whole institutional discrimination- those are problems, yes. But people like Mary? Shakar? Darius? They all screwed themselves through their own self-made problems. And that's half the problem in the community... self-made problems. Like wanting to act tough, be gangster...whatever... I guess being a lil' bookworm like me is bad... crazy."

"Fuck 'em." Freddy shrugged.

"Yeah." Alvin shrugged as well.

Freddy looked over at Spencer. "Spence, we're gonna have to give you some of our money!"

"No, no. I don't want it." Laughed Spencer. "You two earned it!"

"We insist!" Alvin laughed. "You're our best friend."

"I don't want your money." The husky laughed. "That's not what I want in friendships... I just want your friendship!"

"You know, you guys are awesome... and I'm glad I was reunited with you Alvin~"

"Oh?"

Freddy fumbled his brow. "I feel like... maybe I can start to let my hair down and not be so cynical and uptight about myself."

"It's not good to hold it all in like that." Spencer shook his head.

"For so long I had to deal with stupid shit... and now for once...I finally feel like I got a good path going, and good people in my life thanks to Cy and the family. Everything that happened... it was like an epiphany to me."

"And you got two good friends in us~" Alvin smiled.

"Can I call you guys my best friends?"

"Sure!" Spencer agreed.

"Yeah!" Alvin exclaimed.

"Awesome." Freddy laughed. "And you can show me how to work that camera one day?"

"We'll gladly bring you aboard 'Alvideo'!" Alvin exclaimed.

"Alvideo?"

"That's Alvin's corny nickname for his video productions."

"Get the fuck outta here with that corny ass shit." Freddy laughed.

"It flows!" Alvin exclaimed. "C'mon!"

Alvin, Spencer and Freddy spent the rest of the flight back to Newark laughing and joking amongst themselves. The mood among them was jubilant, as they mulled about going back to school in a few days.

---

Sunday, the last day of summer vacation. In the late afternoon sun, Alvin and Joey flew to Cleveland, aboard Alvin's Cavalier Mustang. At four thousand feet, his Mustang 2000 flew alone, amongst the patchy clouds that silently drifted. Bearing the name of its former owner, the late Robert "Bob" Woodward, the Mustang was gifted to Alvin after Woodward's death in 2019. It still bore its original paint scheme from when Bob bought the plane in 1979; the underside was black, with a brick red cheatline separating the black from the white. The propeller spinner was shiny black, and the uncuffed Hamilton prop painted gray with yellow tips. A Packard Merlin burbled under the cowl. The laminar wings sported two wingtip tanks, which slightly altered the appearance of the once wartime Mustang fighter. Alvin sat at the controls in the front seat, his uncle in the rear cockpit. The big bubble canopy was slid back to provide some cool air in the stagnant afternoon blaze.

Arriving into Burke Lakefront, Alvin and Joey caught a taxi to the hospital, to visit Robby. He continued to improve, and it looked like in a few more days, he could be released to go home. Though a long period of physical therapy loomed for him.

Arriving onto the fifth floor, Alvin wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell of iodine and disinfectants. Adjusting his N95 clamped on his muzzle, Alvin walked with Joey to Robby's hospital room. Andrew and Marie had spent all day with him, having flown in on Rob's Convairliner.

"Hey Dad~" Alvin waved as he entered.

"Alvin, Joey, please come in~" Robby said enthusiastically. His voice was somewhat quiet, and he winced a bit as he spoke, from the discomfort in his chest. "How was your flight?"

"Quiet. Just how I like 'em." Chuckled Alvin. "How are you feeling Dad?"

Robby glanced up at the IV bags of pain killers. "Thank you tube and baggie!"

"Aww~" Alvin sighed.

"I'm alive... and that's the good thing." Robby said to Alvin. "Pain is just weakness leaving the body... or from the thoracotomy... one of the two!"

"Andrew!" shouted Marie. "Stop eating Robby's dinner!"

"What?" Andrew protested, mid-chew with a handful of salad. "He's not eating it!"

"He needs to keep his strength up!"

"It's fine, Mom, I didn't want the salad."

"You wanted me to eat well and I eat something healthy and you complain about it!"

"I am not complaining!"

"What are you doing right now?"

"You are eating his dinner and-"

Andrew and Marie stopped mid-argument at the presence of a doctor and nursing checking in on Robby. The doctor had a blank expression on his face.

"Doctor can I have this taken off please?" Andrew pointed at Marie.

"Doctor... is there something like a transplant for personalities?" Marie asked sarcastically.

The doctor just blankly stared at them.

"Okay crazies...easy...we're in public here..." Joey teased.

Robby looked over at Alvin. "This is what I deal with... every single day..."

"Makes you wanna be in a coma right?" teased the Dober.

"Yeah!"

The doctor and nurse checked on Robby and looked at his vital signs. They also looked to see how his surgical wounds were healing, including the chest tube locations, which were stitched shut the day before. After they finished up, Robby asked if he could have some alone time with his son, which everyone agreed to. Joey stepped out and closed the door behind him.

"Alvin can you pull a chair up please? Please hold my paw..."

Alvin pulled a plastic chair up and sat down. He saw Robby struggle to move his arm, and Alvin gently lifted it up, being mindful of the IV lines, and held his paw. Alvin took comfort in the warmth his father's paw had. It was a further reminder to him of how close he came to dying.

"Alvin, how are you doing? How are you really doing?" Robby asked.

"Dad, I'm holding on. It's been a wild ride." Alvin admitted. "Now today is the last day of freedom for me~"

"I bet..." Robby nodded. "You know... this... kind of sucks."

Alvin nodded. "Dad... I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you do that? Why did you take those bullets for us?"

Robby didn't even wait to think. "I did it because that's what Dad's do. I wasn't going to let him hurt you or your friends."

"You almost died."

"I paid for my past sins." Robby said, looking up at the ceiling. "I paid for my sins."

"You didn't sin, Dad."

Robby slowly inhaled and winced a bit. "At night I lay here, and sometimes I think about the shitty things I did in the past."

"The past is the past, Dad."

"I know, I know. But it bothers me."

"Well... my advice would be that you can't change the past. But you can learn from it."

"Hey, I like that, Alvin. You know you got a smart head~"

"Well, I try." The Dober mustered a smile. "I certainly didn't end up in an orange jumpsuit~"

"Or with federal charges."

"That too~"

"Please tell your friend Spencer that I owe my life to him saving mine." Robby said. "I must repay him."

"I don't think Spence wants repayment. He's not that kind of a guy. But he'll be flattered that you were thinking about him."

"I could have wound up dead in that embankment had it not been for him." Robby nodded slowly. He tried to move his other arm and looked frustrated as he struggled to. "God damnit... I... didn't think I'd be in this shape at thirty-six! I can't really move my legs all that well... it's like everything's lagging! Worse than a video game."

Alvin cracked just a small smile, unsure if he should laugh at his father's expense.

"Alvin, laugh, it's okay." Robby smiled. "I'd laugh, but my chest would burn... getting your chest cut open and your lungs tinkered around with hurt. A lot."

"I can imagine so."

"I'm gonna tell you what, son. It don't matter how long it takes... I'm gonna recover and I'll be good as new. It's gonna happen!"

"One day at a time." Smiled the young Dober. "Everything comes in due time."

"Yep."

"Dad... I want you have the money I got... I want you to use it towards your medical bills."

"Nooooooo. No, no, no, no, no, no, Alvin. I don't want your money. You earned it!" Robby shook his head. "Dad's should never take money from their sons. I am not a deadbeat anymore! Father's give their money to their sons!"

"I insist Dad~"

"Alvin, I will be just fine. I have good insurance, and disability benefits from the union. I will be good. You take that money, and you bank it, and you do something good with it, like college, or something nice. You don't worry about me."

"I have been worried about you."

"I'm a tough fella... this is just a flesh wound..." Robby joked. "Don't worry about me, Alvin, okay? You'll make yourself sick and wind up here. I'm worried about you, about everything."

"Well...the problem solved itself." Alvin shrugged with a chuckle. "Mary and Shakar are in prison, Darius had a heart attack and died, and Brandon and Donta are now with Uncle George in Delaware. No more people to give me problems."

"So you're okay?"

"I'm okay, yeah." Smiled Alvin. "Battered, but alright."

"You should be mighty proud of yourself, Alvin." Robby pointed out. "You took that whole family down without firing a single shot."

"I never thought about it that way."

"You outsmarted them." Robby complimented. "If your name was Rob Barion you would have gone in guns a blazing~"

"Or a baseball bat." Alvin teased. "Rob says steel ones are pretty good melee weapons."

"Oh god." Robby laughed. He winched and recoiled in pain as Alvin gently patted his paw.

"Easy, easy!" Alvin exclaimed.

"You're a very smart young man. Never change, Alvin. Always be this way and don't care about the negative Nancy's."

"Will do, Dad." Alvin nodded.

"I love you, Alvin."

"Love you too, Dad."

"You can let the crazies back in now~" Robby smiled.

Alvin laughed a bit, got up and opened the door to hear Andrew and Marie arguing outside.

---

In flight back home, Alvin and Joey flew through the empty, colorful sky. The evening sun hung low, painting the sky in shades of orange and yellow. The Mustang burbled above the clouds, its wings slicing through the air. Alvin had full control of his warbird, while Joey took some pictures with his cellphone. Alvin thought to himself quietly as he flew, his mind in an introspective mood.

"How are you doing, Alvin?" crackled Joey's voice in his headset. Alvin quickly reached to toggle the microphone.

"I'm doing okay!"

"Boy this is quite the sunset." Joey complimented. "Just a blast of color."

"I wanna take a couple pictures in a few minutes~" Alvin said over the intercom. "This is just too good to pass up."

"Just let me know when you want to."

"Alright." Alvin acknowledged. He released the toggle and thought for a second, before toggling the microphone again. "Uncle Joey?"

"Yeah Alvin?"

"Do you think I outsmarted Mary that bunch?"

"I would say you did." Joey agreed. "I mean, who just keeps evidence like that? And throwing people up in a locked room with said evidence?"

"Well Mary wasn't exactly the brightest lightbulb..."

"That's an understatement." Joey laughed.

"In a way... I pity her... and in a way I hate her. It's a weird feeling."

"And it's okay to feel like that, Alvin. I just want you to know that we love you... what Mary said was just her projecting her own self-hate onto everyone and everything. You're not any of those nasty words."

"I know I'm not. And if people think I am? Their loss." Alvin accepted.

"Mary is just stupid. That's all." Joey quipped. "You can only blame circumstance for so long until it becomes your own doing."

"Exactly."

"There's so many people who want to blame their behavior on others. And it's tiresome." Joey admitted.

"People are just tiring Uncle Joey~"

"I agree!" laughed the older Dober.

"Okay, can you take the helm as I take some pictures?"

"Sure! I got the controls, Alvin."

Alvin reached back and grabbed his stowed Nikon. He turned it on and made a few setting adjustments to take a nice sunset picture from five thousand feet. Over small towns and farmland, the landscape took on the brilliant oranges and ambers from the setting sun. In a wide angle shot from the open canopy, he got a nice starburst effect from the sun, with the colorful landscape and clouds. He adjusted the shutter speed and took aim from the front of the cockpit, which he got a nice silhouette of the canopy, with the propeller blades nicely blurred. The evening color was magnificent.

Alvin aimed to take another picture and thought about all the events that had happened to him through the late summer. He confronted his corrupt family head-on and won, without having to fire a single shot in anger. He unknowingly saved dozens of people's lives, and survived a bout of police brutality and the fallout from it. He was called terrible names by people, insulted and jeered by so called family and strangers, but yet, Alvin felt stronger than ever. His tenacity and courage paid off yet again. He was reunited with a childhood friend, and his friendships felt stronger than ever. The future was bright for Alvin, as he took the last picture. Stowing the camera away, Alvin took control again of the Mustang 2000, and flew on home, feeling happy for himself.

---

"Hey I will be right back!" Freddy shouted to his uncle as he ran out the front door. Throwing his old backpack into the garbage can after its strap finally broke, Freddy jumped into his Silverado and quickly backed out to make his way to the store in Newark. Hitting the road, the young wolf took off eastbound on County Road 2.

Freddy adjusted his fancy shades and marveled at the slowly setting sun that colored everything brilliantly. He listened to some music and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he navigated the winding country road. Passing through some woodland, Freddy emerged to a large area of flatland, where the tall corn swayed in an evening breeze. His eyes scanned the landscape , and spotted a low flying plane coming towards him on the field. It was a high performance warbird, and Freddy watched as it buzzed him, the slipstream buffeting his truck as it roared overhead. Pulling over, Freddy hopped out to see that it was Alvin and his uncle, flying aboard the red, white, and black Mustang 2000. It brought an amused smile to the wolf's face as he watched Alvin bank around and come back for another pass.

Grabbing his phone, Freddy took pictures as Alvin flew by again. He climbed for altitude, banked around and came in even slower, with the flaps deployed. Slowing up in a slow turn, Alvin wiggled his wings in salute and waved at him. Freddy grinned and waved back with a laugh. Alvin pulled up, gained power and flew off, disappearing beyond some trees. The roar of his Merlin engine tapered off.

"Lucky son of a bitch, that Alvin~" Freddy thought as he hopped back into his truck.

Going a few miles up the road, Freddy took notice of some debris on the road. Slowing up, he saw some random parts scattered as he dodged them; a broken shock absorber, and the remains of an axle and tire. On the side of the road sat a broken down Ford truck, which was towing a trailer that now laid on its side in the ditch. Freddy saw Darryl sitting on his tipped over trailer, looking glum and dejected. His old Ford had literally broken in two at the point where the bed and the cab met on the frame. Freddy figured his axle failed, and the old frame just couldn't take it.

For a second, Freddy thought about just blowing off his estranged dad, and go to the store. But the more he thought about that, the more guilty he felt. He could hear Alvin's voice in his head.

"But never give up hope and close your heart completely, even if your Dad's a dumbass... ...but sometimes you have to let go of your hate, before it consumes and warps you into something you might very well regret... ...You might not like what has happened, but constantly fighting with Darryl isn't going to help you, and it's not going to settle any scores, or bring peace. Only you can do that."

Freddy turned his hazards on and pulled over. He hopped out to see Darryl looking dejected, his head in his lap.

"What happened?" Freddy asked.

"I was towin' this damn trailer full of mulch that I got for tomorrow... and the damn axle went out and took the whole truck with it!" Darryl exclaimed. He got up and threw his arms in disgust. "Now I have no truck for landscaping!"

Freddy pursed his lips.

"I got ripped off buying this truck! But I had to have a truck and there wasn't anything in my price range other than this piece of fucking shit!" Darryl yelled, kicking the broken bed with his boot. He looked so visibly frustrated and overheated. His matted brown hair was soaking wet in sweat, clinging to his face.

"God, I don't have any money!" Darryl exclaimed. "I had to deplete my whole savings account for my lil' girl when she had an allergic reaction at the state fair! The hospital wouldn't accept the insurance since it was out of network...whatever that means... and I had to pay like seven thousand dollars just for that damn shot! All my money gone! Now this! Oh my god... what am I gonna do?"

Freddy closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath. He listened to Alvin's words again in his head. Since being shot at and kidnapped, Freddy had a different view on his life, and the world around him. He realized that his father clearly had empathy and emotions, and wasn't just the slack-jawed yokel he always just assigned to him from their animosity.

"Would it help if I bought you a new truck?" Freddy asked.

Darryl paused and looked at him. "You... you have the money to do that? How do you have the money for that?"

"I got paid half a million dollars for being kidnapped at gunpoint?"

"When did this happen?"

Freddy closed his eyes and slowly inhaled and exhaled. "Regardless. I'm willing to help you, and I have the resources."

"...You'd do that for me? After all the fighting and screaming at each other over the years?" Darryl asked.

"Well... you're my Dad... and you need help. And I'm willing to help."

"You've never helped me before, Freddo."

"Let's just say... my world view has changed after what had happened." Freddy admitted.

"We've never been close~"

"Maybe... I want more of a relationship, Dad?"

"You've never called me Dad before..." Darryl said, sounding surprised. "Uhh... I don't know I could repay you, Freddy."

"I don't want repayment. Just take care of the truck and appreciate it for what it is~" Freddy suggested. "C'mon. We can make it to the dealership in time."

"Freddy, I feel like I need to repay you somehow." Darryl said as he went around to grab his title and insurance cards from the glovebox.

"Maybe... let's try and work out our relationship problems... because I'd like to have a dad in my life for once."

"I think we could do that, son."

Darryl, clutching his paperwork, climbed aboard Freddy's truck, and the two took off for Newark, driving away into the sunset.