What Is Love?

Chapter One

Danny Dare



I rolled out of bed with a groan and smacked my alarm clock to shut it up. Damn Mondays.

Dragging my feet across my little bedroom to the bathroom, I looked in the mirror. My shoulder length red-brown hair was tousled from sleep and it stuck out at odd angles and hung in my face. Peeking out from behind the curtain of hair was a thin, delicate nose and full, pink lips. Sparkling emerald green eyes framed by long dark lashes were the brightest feature of my face and in my opinion my best asset. I brushed my hair, viciously ripping through the tangles. With it out of my face you could see the rose color of my cheeks and the light dusting of freckles across my nose and cheek bones. I was pretty, I could admit, but I wasn't anything special; nothing that would make a man's eyes follow you as you walked by. I was just... me. Just Danny.

I didn't bother with make up except for mascara and lip gloss - I didn't really have the patience for everyday cosmetics. Special occasions where one thing, but I wasn't particularly keen on the daily suffocation of my facial skin. After dressing for work in some jeans and my orange uniform T-shirt and pulling my hair back in a pony tail, I grabbed a granola bar and headed out the door.

Working at the little local grocery store was a bore, but it was a job - a job I desperately needed in fact. My boss, Jim, had me stocking shelves today, and while it was mundane and tiring work, I didn't complain - I never do. I wasn't so high and mighty that I could afford to complain about my only source of income. In a town this small, jobs weren't always the easiest to come by, and I didn't want to risk my employment on a bad attitude. So I did whatever I was told: stocking shelves, taking inventory, running a register, clean up, you name it. After eight hours of this, with a break at noon, I finally tasted freedom.

Quitting time. Hallelujah!

I walked home, feeling the warm spring breeze on my skin. The store was only a few blocks away from my home, and I never drove there unless the weather was rough. It saved me gas money I didn't always have and walking was good for you after all. Exercise and all that jazz, you know.

My life was set in the small town of Mexico Beach, Florida, just a few blocks off the coast. Mexico Beach seemed to be one of the last places on the gulf in the sunshine state that hasn't been taken over by tourism, and I was quite thankful for that; I like the quiet. Surrounding the town on three sides for miles was lush forests filled with swamps, ponds, and an abundance of wildlife. On the fourth side, of course, was the sparkling Gulf of Mexico.

My house - if you could even call it that - was nestled towards the back of town and surrounded by woods. It was nothing special. Just a tiny log cabin with one bedroom, bathroom, and a main room that functioned as a living room with a kitchen to the side. The furnishings were simple, functional, and comfortable - nothing too fancy. A comfy queen sized bed and a wardrobe were the only furniture in the bedroom. The living room portion of the main room had a plush love seat in front of the TV a well as a book shelf and desk over to the side, and in the back corner my electric keyboard was set up on its stand. On the kitchen side was, of course, the average appliances and a small round table complete with four stained wood chairs.

Simple, functional, and comfortable.

I lived on my own, and had since I was seventeen. The single life wasn't anything new to me, and family or friends was very nearly a foreign concept. Help wasn't wasn't something that I ever asked for, or even thought to ask for honestly. I'd always been very independent. I'd had to be; both my parents died when I was twelve.

A block away from my house I did a double take. Out of the corner of my eye, my subconscious mind registered something just a split second before my conscious mind caught up. What the hell did I just see?

I turned back, scanning the woods for whatever - or whomever - it was I had just seen, but the figure was gone. 'How strange. Probably just your imagination, Danny,' I thought bemused, and admittedly a little unnerved. I wasn't sure why I picked up my pace a little bit, but I wasted no time in getting through my front door. It was unlocked of course, just like it always was. Crime in Mexico Beach was almost nonexistent.

Why was I feeling so uneasy all of the sudden? Apparently I really needed to clear my head. Hastily, I sat down at my piano and began to play a quick, happy tune. Music was my lifeline. A song could suit any mood, alleviate most heartache, and calm any nerves. It didn't matter so much what I was playing, just so long as I was playing. Actually, it wasn't even that important that it was me specifically producing the melodic sound, just as long as it was present. Music had gotten me through much worse things before than a little unjustified paranoia. Before long I was feeling better and I set about cooking dinner, completely at ease with myself and my surroundings. Just another day in the life of Danny Dare.

I'd all but forgot about the man with no face.