In an urban neighbourhood, a man can be seen exiting his house, walking towards his car that was parked in his garage. As he walked, he waved at a small boy peeking through the window.
"Petey, take care'a ya Aunt May, alright? I'll be out for just a sec, meetin wit' Uncle Krace.
"Ok, Uncle Ben! Have fun! Don't forget to get me a hot dog too!"
Ben chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, ya got it, kid. Just don't tell your Aunt May, or I'm gettin' an earful about spoilin ya."
He climbed into his car, the engine rumbling to life as he pulled onto the street.
Today, Ben planned to meet with Krace and take up on his invitation to work in Wayne Enterprise. Krace's company had been steadily on the rise. If it were up to him, he would work with him sooner, but with several mouths depending on him, he waited until the company had fully stabilise before he agreed.
In Ben's view, Krace is a good man-mysterious, but good. He was a man with a past, though he never spoke of it, and always walks around the subject. Ben didn't need the details to know the story wasn't a good one. There were plenty of unanswered questions about him, like how Krace fought very well, almost too well. Every time we hung out, no matter the topic, Krace always seemed to know something about it. His explanation? He had learned self-defense and read a lot of books.
But in the end, none of that mattered. Krace was a man you could trust with your back. He wouldn't stab or betray you. Ben had a knack for reading people, and he knew from the first glance, Krace is a man you can entrust your life with.
Well, maybe he can ask Krace to teach Peter some self-defense.
[Half an hour later]
The weather was gloomy and cloudy, rush of winds tossed Ben's hair as he drove the car with the window open. One hand on the outside while the other was on the steering. His head bopped with rhythm as the radio played its songs.
Ben in his bege car pull up behind a hotdog stall parked on the side of the walking pavement.
Besides the stall, two men were talking with each other, while eating their hotdog. Several people passed by them peeked a glance towards the stall as the hotdog scent wafted through the air, pushed by increasing gale.
A man in a smart casual outfit with a dark jacket was talking to another man who appeared as the seller.
"Jack," Krace called the stall man. " You should come to work for the company, what's the hold on? I could use those hands around there. Last offer, I'll raise your salary by a grand."
"Hahaha, what are you talking about, it's just normal hotdogs. I'm sure you can hire a proper chef, better than me a street stall."
"No, it's different, yours hand-made and I'm sure there's some secret sauce you throw in here." Krace took another bite, "These hotdogs are addictive, and last week's tacos were better! How about it? The kitchen has already been set up. Come on, I put another add-on, a full scholarship for your son."
"Wow really? But that's ok, the first offer is already good enough. The salary would be enough, no need for the scholarship. Actually, I've also done a lot of thinking, just too shy to ask again after I declined you once. I'll come but maybe not tomorrow. Just need to settle a little problem back at the old work. After that, I'll slave myself to your company. Hahaha."
"Good. Take the scholarship too, nothing too hard on the company." Krace smiled.
"Wow! Thanks, Krace. Truly. I'll work my bone off till I'm hundred for the Wayne company. Here, take another hotdog free on the house.
"Hey, Ben, want one?" Jack, the stall owner, offered him as Ben walked toward the group.
A woman passed by also ordered a bun of hotdog, unable to resist the smell.
"Hi Jack" Ben's chuckle. "Where's Matt?" Ben asked about Jack's son.
"The boy is studying. You know him, very diligent and clever. I'm not sure who he got it from, but that must be some part of me there. Hahaha, like father, like son." Jack replied while making the order for the customer.
"Here's the braille books you ordered last time, I managed to grab a bunch on discount. Got all the genres there and some on law like you asked." Ben passed a bag of books to Jack.
"Thanks, man. The boy already finished the what few books we have and have been rereading it. I bet this books gonna makes him happy. I'm not a reader myself, like you smart people do, but managed to live fine till now." Jack said.
"Yeah, yeah, define FINE." Ben responded. "The only one fine around here is Krace."
"Yeah, I'm fine. Working 24 hours, until midnight and returning to a house with nobody, sleeping alone. Debts piled up, and I bet the IRS is tracking me like crazy.
Krace, Ben and Jack go back and forth in their self-pity and banter, making fun of each other and laughing every few seconds.
The place has been the meeting spot for Krace and Ben since several weeks ago due to the many restaurants around. Coincidentally, Jack's stall was nearby and have been their go-to snacks. After a couple of meetings and meals, they became friends.
Of course, Krace only came and stopped his work at Ben's insistence. If it were up to him, he would like to work 24 hours non-stop, back to back from his office to his house, but when Ben knew of it, he insisted that Krace rest in between, caring for his health.
Krace knew Ben was right, so he followed his friend's advice and invitation. In the past, Alfred would always keep tabs on him, and he was thankful and appreciative of it, but now that he was the saviour who alone, Ben was would care for him, and he let him do so.
….
While Ben and Jack were chattering on the pavement, Krace was also observing Jack. His stature, posture, expression and body language.
Limited arm movement, loose jaw, blood stain under the nose, restricted movement, torn knuckle skin, baggy eyes and a few other clues indicated that Jack just had a fight the night before.
He attacked someone? No.
Did he get attacked? Possible.
He's not a person who would pick a fight unwarrantedly. Must be for something. Something to benefit or receive. Money.
He has a son. His clothing and stall meant he was in need of money. To support his son.
Illegal fighting? Or a bet?
His ribs were likely fractured, nose crooked, slightly bruised eye.
It's the most common injury after a boxing match. Boxing, money and son.
In conclusion, Jack was in an illegal boxing match for money to support his son.
Krace knew people like Jack works in some muddy water, not out of want, but necessities. That's why he was adamant about hiring Jake to work. To help the guy. He knew if Jake keeps involving in this road, he would most likely be involved with something nasty at the end, for him and his son. Good people like him should not suffer like this just to provide.
*Rumble*
Thunder echoed above the sky, bringing tears of rain.
Jack looked up to the sky. "You guys head in first into the shop, I'll close the stall first. Don't want rust climbing this baby," and he remind them "Oh, and don't tell Matt about the books, I'm gonna surprise him."
Ben and Krace sat inside the pancake diner opposite Jack's stall. As the rain continued to pour, the restaurant's bell chimed, indicating a new customer had entered.
A skinny, pale-skinned teen boy wearing sunglasses entered through the door. One hand held a long walking stick, a walking aid usually used by blind people. Another hand held a thick book by his side. A blind teen boy.
"Matt! Here!" Ben called the young Murdock. "Your dad will be here soon, he's closing down his stall first. So, how's your study?"
"Hi, Uncle Ben. Hi, Uncle Krace. Dad told me to stay here in the evening. I've already finished reading the books you guys sent before. Dad reads its out for me."
Ben faced Krace and said "Haha, that guy, he's smitten by the boy. 'Not a reader myself'," he said in Jack's tone and continued to Matt. "That's good, study hard. In the future, you can teach Peter what you've learned. I'll send more books later."
"What topics do you want? I'll send it to you later." Krace asked.
"Hmm…I think I like to read novels for a change. Novels that have more vivid writing would be nice, like describing the scenery or nature."
"I'll send it later." Krace nodded and promised to send it later.
Matt is Jack's son and his pride. He is a kind-hearted person, diligent, clever, and all the things that you wish in a son, except everything took a turn a few months ago.
The boy was originally not blind, but a couple months back, he was involved in an accident.
The accident happened because Matt was trying to save a blind old man from getting crushed by an oncoming car. Fortunately, he made it in time to push the old man out of harm's way. The car, which was speeding, hit the brake late, skidded and hit the back of a truck carrying hazardous substances, that splashed on Matt's eyes, blinding his sight forever.
Since then, the boy has been impaired. Although, he never once complains and regrets his decision to save the blind old man. Instead, he studies harder and lives like normal person do.
The books that Ben and Krace sent to Matt were all Braille books, specially made for blind people to read, and some were not. Those who were not were then sent to a translation company. Usually it would take a long period to translate, hence, the rereading of books and Jack's audio read to Matt. Of course, all the cost was shouldered by Krace as the wealthiest of the two.
Jack Murdock was also very thankful for this grace, as he also could not afford the cost of translating normal books into braille books.
The diner's atmosphere was cozy and serene. People were enjoying their meals and the company of each other. Sounds of the rain pitted against the window and served as a white noise for everybody.
Krace, Ben and Matt were talking with each other, mostly Ben and Krace asking and teaching Matt about random things.
Suddenly.
BANG!
BANG!
A not too loud sound, muffled by the rain can be heard outside.
A voice unfamiliar to others but well known to Krace. Gunshot. Someone has been shot.
While others were looking to each other face, confirming whether what they heard was true or not, Krace instantly hopped out of the sit and rushes outside the diner.
WHIZZ!
A car tore through the rain and sped fast beside him, heading opposite his direction.
Krace stole a glance at the back of the car, memorising the car's number plate instantly.
A few seconds later, he arrived at an alley.
Nothing seems to stand out except a stall was parked close to the alley's wall.
Behind the cart, a pair of legs spread out on the ground. The view of the upper half of the body was obstructed, covered by the cart.
Krace rushed past the cart and saw a man.
It was Jack.