CHAPTER TWO: IN THE COMPANY OF STRANGERS

"Tork! why don't you mind your own business?!" McGuire snapped, dropping David. "Why don't you quit pickin' on kids? Try someone your own size like me!" Tork challenged sharply.

"Fine! You wanna deal with some midget Brit?! Be my guest!" McGuire roared, picking a scared David up and slinging him at Tork.

Luckily he caught David before he hit the pavement.

Tork then simply ignored McGuire and motioned for David to follow him.

"I don't see how that kid can be so stupid," Tork muttered about McGuire, "well, you're a new face, who are you?"

"David Jones, but everyone calls me Davy," Davy replied, his thick English accent bringing color to the conversation.

"What's a well-rounded brit doin' on this side of town?" Tork wondered with a snort.

"I came t' America almost a yeah ago t' get my own staht," Davy replied, "'oo ahe you?"

"Peter Tork; my family will take ya in, you need some kind of group to be with if you're gonna live in these parts," Tork replied, trying to keep the young man out of trouble best he could.

"Thank you, Mistah Tohk," Davy said with gratefullness in his heart.

"Don't call me Mister....or Tork, either; Peter'll do," Peter suggested with a smile, "oh, and if you're gonna live out on this side of the tracks you trust no one but your own group; sometimes not even them."

Davy nodded.

"Not to mention you're gonna have to learn how to fight," Peter added,"gangs like McGuire's like to cause trouble."

Davy nodded again.

So, over the course of the next year, Peter taught Davy all he knew about street fighting; and, despite his discriminating height of 5' he became in that amount of time, he was one of the toughest fighter's in the Tork clan.

continued