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Constable Benton Fraser donned his Stetson hat and headed down the steps of the Canadian Consulate, his half wolf, Diefenbaker, at his side. He had just stepped onto the sidewalk when a young boy came running around the corner and collided with him. Diefenbaker barked loudly at the boy.
“Whoa, slow down, son,” Fraser said. “Someone could get hurt. Remember, safety first,” he smiled at the boy.
“Sorry,” the boy said, trying to catch his breath. He straightened his glasses, which were askew from the collision. Dief continued to bark.
“That’s enough, Dief,” said Fraser, and the wolf ceased. “It’s okay, you just startled him. He’s deaf,” Fraser explained.
“I’m sorry,” the boy said again. He held his hand out for Dief to sniff.
“There, you see, Diefenbaker?” said Fraser. “It’s alright.” He turned his attention back to the boy. “I notice you keep looking over your shoulder. Who are you running from?” he asked.
“Some bullies,” said the boy. Fraser motioned towards the consulate steps, inviting the boy to sit.
“You’re welcome to sit and catch your breath,” he said.
“Thanks.” The boy removed his backpack and sat down. As Fraser sat next to him, he noticed the boy was clutching a spiral bound notebook with a NASA sticker on its well-worn cover.
“So, bullies?” Fraser asked him.
“They’re eighth graders,” the kid replied, pushing his brown hair off of his sweaty forehead. “They were trying to throw me into a dumpster.”
“Oh dear,” Fraser replied. I’ve been in my share of those.”
“Dumpsters? Really?” His big, brown eyes stared at Fraser.
“Yes, in the course of some investigative work. I remember this one time in particular,” Fraser said with a chuckle, but then thought perhaps the boy ought not to hear that story. “Well, that’s not important. “What is important is, why these boys were trying to put you inside a dumpster.”
“Oh, they do stuff like that to me all the time,” the boy replied, pushing his glasses up with his index finger. “They hate me. They call me “loser” and “dork.” They’re bigger than me, and stronger than me, but not faster than me. I got away from them and I ran for 2 blocks.”
“Good for you,” Fraser replied. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Danny,” The boy replied.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Danny. I’m Constable Fraser. And this is Diefenbaker.”
“What do you do?” Danny asked, looking over Fraser’s uniform and Stetson hat.
“I’m with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police,” Fraser replied, “And I work here, at the Canadian Consulate.” He gestured to the building behind them.
“You get to bring your dog with you?” asked Danny, as he petted Dief’s thick neck fur.
“He’s a wolf, actually,” Fraser replied, “and yes, he goes everywhere with me.”
“That’s so cool. I wish I had a wolf,” Danny replied.
“Well, he can be rather stubborn at times,” said Fraser, and Danny chuckled.
Fraser removed his hat and turned it over in his hands a few times. “What’s in your notebook?” He asked, pointing at the green, spiral bound.
“I write down everything,” Danny replied, “everything that happens, everything I think about or see.”
“That’s a good thing to do,” said Fraser. “It’s a fine skill to hone.”
Danny shrugged. “The other kids make fun of me for it. They think I’m weird.”
“My father used to do the same thing,” said Fraser. “He must have filled a hundred journals in his lifetime. I’m grateful he did because he’s passed away now, but I’ve learned so much about him through reading his journals. It’s like he’s still teaching me things, even though he’s gone. And I still have a lot to learn from him.”
“I don’t have a dad, either,” said Danny. He left when I was four.”
“I’m sorry,” Fraser replied. “It can be hard growing up without a father.”
“Thanks for letting me hide out from the bullies here,” said Danny.
“It’s my pleasure,” Fraser replied, giving Danny a smile. “You know, when I was growing up, there was a bully in my school, too,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yes. One time he came into the classroom swinging a dead otter overhead. He was just looking for a fight. He was quite an unreasonable young man. When I tried talking to him, he struck me with the otter. I still have the scar,” Fraser gently touched his chest below his right collarbone.
“What did you do?” Danny asked.
“Well, I eventually learned that bullies are only bullies because they want people to be afraid of them,” Fraser replied. “You see, they like having power and control over others because it makes them feel important, not because they have actual confidence in themselves. Most bullies don't really have self confidence. They know that if people stop being afraid of them, then they lose everything, because they aren’t actually liked or respected. I learned that kindness and integrity actually take us much farther in life.”
“Except in the 6th grade,” said Danny.
“You know, Danny,” Fraser continued, “when I first came here from Canada, I don’t think anyone really liked me that much.”
“Why not?” Danny asked.
“I stuck out like a sore thumb,” Fraser chuckled. “I sounded different from everyone else, I dressed differently, and I was unfamiliar with the customs and rhythms of your city. Put me on the frozen tundra or in the middle of the woods and I’m more than capable, but in this city, well, I was completely out of my element.” He ran his thumb along his eyebrow. “And I felt all alone. But,” he continued, “I stayed true to who I am and do you know what happened?”
“What?” Danny asked.
“I started to earn the respect and trust of my community. And because of that, I’m better able to help them. And I gained a best friend who I know would do anything for me,” Fraser said, thinking of Ray and the unique partnership/friendship they shared. “Stay true to who you are, Danny,” Fraser said, “And I promise you, one day, it will pay off. And you'll be able to hold your head up high, because you will know exactly who you are.” He stood. “You’d better be getting home.”
Danny nodded and put his backpack on.
“See you,” he said, giving Dief one last scratch on the top of his head. Fraser watched as Danny disappeared around the corner, then once again donned his Stetson hat and headed for home.