
Danny wakes the next day feeling a little better than he had last night. The frustration he felt from being met with such hostility and suspicion had faded enough that his usual cheer resurfaced. He decides to go and met Joy at her home, what was once his home. Maybe talking with her outside of the office and away from Ward would be more productive. She would see he wasn’t crazy or a danger. She would stop denying who he was. They’d been close once after all; allies to Ward’s darker nature in their childhood.
Unfortunately, Joy did not meet Danny’s expectations and was immediately hostile all over again. Danny tried over and over to convince her he meant no harm but she just wouldn’t believe him. Why did no one believe him? Then he’d let slip he’d been inside her home and knew he’d made a serious error in judgement, both in the slip and in gaining entry.
“Did you break in?” She says, eyes nearly blazing as she brandished her phone like it was a weapon. Deep in her eyes Danny thought he might see fear, but that made no sense. He wasn’t a danger to her. “My dog was closed in my study last night when I got home. You did that? Now that is so not okay, my friend.”
Backing away, Danny tries to hold up his hands in a placating manner, feeling lost and helpless as to what to do, completely missing that he’s stepped out into the street and into the path of a speeding taxi. His body reacts for him, however, and he flips over the rushing vehicle as if it were nothing. Landing easily, he looks back to Joy with regret and called out weakly, “Sorry….I’m sorry,” before running away.
Later, in City Hall park, he tries to rekindle the optimism he had upon waking and to center himself with some Tai Chi. The warmth of the sun and the slight breeze bring a measure of calm to his heart and the murmur of the city, as the people walk about and the cars hum about on their errands, envelops him like a cocoon of memory. Serenity is there, he can see it, but it stays just out of reach. He stops chasing it when he hears someone put some bills into his leftover coffee cup by his feet.
Chuckling as he bends over to pull the bills out, he follows the woman who left them. He’s all but spent the last of his money, but he’s confident he’ll soon have matters taken care of with the Meachums. Even if they are proving resistant, the truth will come out.
“Thanks,” he says holding out the money to the woman who is now posting flyers on the park’s bulletin boards. She is beautiful, of Asian decent (Chinese, Danny guesses, but maybe Japanese as well) and focused on her errand. “I wasn’t asking for money.”
She looks at him with a smile, actually meeting his eyes, which he’s noticed is something most people don’t do with those who don’t seem as if they have a home. “Oh,” she replies with a chuckle, “Uh, whatever.” She waves off his attempts at returning the money and goes back to stapling her flyers.
Danny reads one of the flyers, an ad for martial arts classes at the Chakara Dojo, and pulls it off. “Wow, is this you?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. I’m Danny.”
“Colleen.”
That night, Danny tries once more to reach out to the Meachums with truth and friendship, but this time with Ward. He decides to change his tactics and instead of coming to their office, waits at the building’s valet service for when Ward leaves for the night. He ends up waiting quite a while, which makes him wonder what kind of life Ward has outside of the office, likely little if he makes a habit of working so late. As the valet leaves the car, Danny runs up in a crouch and takes the driver’s seat.
Ward notices and calls out, “Hey!”, as he runs to open the passenger door and leaps in. “What the hell are you doing?!?”
Danny puts the car into gear and starts off, glad of the time he took to learn how to drive while traveling through Morrocco. “I wanted to talk. I didn’t know any other way to get to you.”
“No way,” Ward replies, shaking his head and then reaching for the safety bar as Danny speeds towards the ramp up into the parking structure. “Stop. STOP!”
Ward’s fear is a thrill to Danny and he can’t resist poking at it. “Sorry. I, uh, haven’t driven since my dad put me on his lap and let me drive around our place at the Hamptons.”
That proves too much for Ward and he darts forward, opening the glovebox and pulling out a gun, which he points at Danny’s temple. “I said stop the car.”
Anger flares in Danny, but he pulls it back. “Ward, I just need to talk.”
Ward pushes the gun against Danny’s temple. “Pull over.”
Danny sighs. Why do people with guns insist on doing this? “Put the gun away.”
“Now.”
“Look, I just want to talk, okay?”
“You can talk to the police. That’s who you can talk to.”
The anger rises again and Danny can’t pull it back this time. “I have been met with nothing but anger and hostility since I’ve been home. And honestly, it’s kind of aggravating.” He turns to look at Ward, ignoring the gun but stopping the car. “So I’m going to ask you one last time. Please put the gun away.”
Ward pulls it back long enough to cock it before pointing it at Danny. Danny shakes his head, and with a speed Ward is barely aware of, takes the gun (without breaking Ward’s fingers--a kindness on Danny’s part), and turns it on Ward, pressing it to Ward’s temple. “How does it feel? Huh?” A chuckle for the kid Danny used to be rises. “Not so good.” Danny’s breath is ragged in his anger that is building, finally released. “Not so good.”
Then, he barks, “BANG!” (when earns a small whimper from Ward), before he pulls the gun up, releases the firing arm, thumbing the safety to make sure it was on, and dropping the gun into the back seat.
“You will never get a penny from us,” Ward threatens, regaining his composure.
Incredulous, Danny scoffs. “Who said anything about money?”
“Than what do you want?”
“I want to know what happened. To me, to my parents, to the company that has my name on it!”
“That’s all you want? Really? Wendell Rand, his wife Heather, and their son, Danny, died in a plane crash in the Himalayas. The plane was never found. Their bodies were never found.”
“Keep going.”
“That’s all I know.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I was fifteen when they died. Why would I know anything more? And why do you think that there’s more to know? And why do you care? Because you are not Danny Rand.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Show me a DNA test that proves you’re a Rand.”
“I have no living relatives.”
“A fingerprint test.”
“I was ten when we crashed. I never had fingerprints taken.”
“They you’ve got nothing,” Ward nearly hisses.
“Oh man,” Danny says shaking his head again before looking Ward in the eyes. “You were a dick as a kid, and you’re still a dick.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“No?” Danny replies, the righteous anger of a bullied child taking him. “You used to lock me in the freezer at the Rand cafeteria. At one of the company picnics, you put a dead frog in my sandwich. You would kick me in the balls every chance you had. This sound familiar? Hmm?”
Ward shifts in his seat and stares Danny cold in the eyes. “None of that is true. I can only wonder what it’s like inside that crazy little head of yours.”
Stunned at the blatant lie, Danny chews on his cheek for a moment before shaking his head and chuckling. “You wanna know what it’s like? Hmmm? It feels like this.” Danny floors the gas pedal and just barely turns in time to steer the car away from the curve of the ramp they’ve been sitting in. “When you’re a ten-year-old boy and you watch your mother die and you know you and your father are next? It feels like this!”
The anger burns in Danny but the memories tear through it and he’s back in the shaking plane as it’s torn apart. His mother is there again, unbuckling from her seat to run to him, but she never makes it. Instead, the roof is torn off the plane and she is sucked out into the clouds. His father calls out in horror and then looks to Danny. “I love you, Danny,” he says before all goes white.
Ward’s shouts of “STOP THE CAR!!!!” pull Danny from his flashback and he has just enough time to brake and turn the car to keep them both from flying off the top of the parking structure.
Danny and Ward both stumble out of the car and Danny, still shaken by the flashback, says, “I’m...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” before turning to run away again.
“This isn’t over!” Ward shouts.
Back at the park, Danny mediates to find his center again when Big Al shows up and offers him a foil wrapped sandwich, explaining it came from a deli on Bleecker. As Danny takes a bite of the sandwich, chicken parmesan, Al continues to talk about his belief that everything thing went wrong when people gave up being hunter gatherers, and that he’s going to stay true to his purpose, that of being a hunter gatherer.
“You’re lucky then,” Danny says with a smile. “The Buddha said, ‘Your purpose in life is to find your purpose’.”
Al nods and scratches his nose. “Sure, that makes sense. What’s your purpose? Do you know it?”
With a smile, Danny nods. “To protect K’un Lun from all oppression. Honor the sacrifice of Shou-Lao the Undying.”
Al chuckles. “Well, alright then. Just remember to have fun along the way.”