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LITTLE DANNY'S CHRISTMAS
by BUD TANT
Friday Morning
December 15, 1989
The wind
was as sharp as a knife. Bits of litter swirled and tumbled across the
vacant lot sitting like a no-man's land between the dilapidated brick
buildings. Little Danny limped down the sidewalk. He looked like a man
with one foot in the gutter and the other on the curb as he limped along.
His leg ached. It always ached, but the pain was the worst when the
weather was cold.
He paused beneath the sickly yellow glow cast by
the streetlight above him. He took his dirty hands out of the pockets of
his old corduroy coat and pulled the collar around him tighter. Goddam, it
was cold! He stuffed his boney hands back inside his coat pockets and
continued his journey down the sidewalk.
He hadn't walked far when
he came to the hospital. He put his collar down and tried to affect an air
of dignity. The hospital lobby was the best place in this part of town to
collect cigarette butts out of the ashtrays; long cigarette butts, some of
them with only one or two tokes used before the previous owner had stuck
them into the sand urns in the hospital lobby. But if you looked like a
tramp the security guard would run you out of the lobby before you could
collect any butts.
Danny unconsciously smoothed his hair with his
dirty hands, raised his chin to an appropriate level and entered the
bright lobby. Immediately inside the door were the first two urns, one on
each side of the door but he didn't stop for them. He'd get the ones
across the lobby and then clean out the two beside the door when he was on
his way out.
He smiled inwardly at this small bit of cunning he'd
developed over the past -- how long had it been now? Ten years? Fifteen?
How long had it been since Danny had worked on the loading docks of Macy's
Department Store? Danny couldn't remember precisely, but somehow the years
had passed until now they blurred from one year into the next.
As
he thought these thoughts, Danny walked across the wide lobby and arrived
at a group of vinyl-covered chairs arranged for the hospital's many
visitors. Looking around, Danny saw that he wasn't being watched. Quickly
he stooped and picked the many cigarette butts out of the sand urns,
stuffing them into his coat pockets.
Just as he was going for the
last remaining butts in the ashtrays, Danny was startled by: "HEY! WHAT DO
YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
The fat security guard had come around
the corner and was standing there not three feet from Little Danny with a
scowl on his face. "GET OUTTTA HERE BEFORE I CALL THE PADDY WAGON!" the
uniformed guard ordered.
Danny quickly limped toward the lobby
doors again. Reaching the doors, Danny bent and scooped butts from one
urn, then the other, not bothering to separate the butts from the fine
white sand as he crammed them into his coat pockets.
Back on the
sidewalk, Danny shuffled along the sidewalk until he reached the alcove of
a closed clothing store. He stepped out of the wind and fished one of the
longer butts out of his pocket. Then he searched his inside jacket pockets
until he found a dirty book of paper matches. Cupping his hands to protect
the flame from the Winter wind, Danny struck the match and lighted the
butt. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the acrid taste of the tobacco.
As he smoked the snipe, Danny gazed into the display windows. A
mannequin stood dumbly inside the window, dressed in the latest Winter
fashions. Danny looked longingly at the warm leather coat the mannequin
was wearing. It has sheep's wool lining and deep pockets with plenty of
zippers and snaps. The mannequin had on a pair of fleece-lined boots and
the soft brown leather gloves she wore were also lined in snowy fleece.
Little Danny signed and ground the cigarette butt out beneath his
worn-out shoes. He could feel the heat from the cherry on the end of the
cigarette butt through the thin soles of his old shoes. Stuffing his hands
back inside the ragged pockets of his shabby coat, Danny limped out of the
alcove and stumbled down the litter-strewn street.
As he limped
down the dirty street, Danny's eyes constantly scanned the terrain like
radar beacons, searching. Danny spent his life searching. He searched for
cigarette butts. He searched for discarded bits of sandwiches in the
dempsy-dumpsters behind the restaurants. He searched the sidewalks for
dropped change. Danny searched for survival every day of his life.
Reaching a graffiti-marred telephone booth, Danny stepped through
the folding door and dipped two fingers into the change return slot.
Bingo! Danny pulled a quarter and two dimes from the change slot. Maybe
this would be his lucky night. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled
out the few coins he already had: Six pennies, a nickel and a dime.
Sixty-six cents! Now he had .66 cents and a shortdog of Ripple only costs
.79 cents. Feeling better, Danny put a little bounce in his limp as he
pushed his tired, cold body down the sidewalk.
A man was walking
his cocker spaniel on the sidewalk just ahead of Little Danny. The little
dog sniffed a parking meter, then cocked his leg and ejected a yellow
stream of urine on the unfortunate meter's pole.
Danny
unconsciously smoothed his greasy hair once more. "Excuse me, sir, but I
was wondering if you might could spare .13 cents?" Danny inquired in his
most respectful tone of voice.
The man looked from Danny’s sunken
eyes all the way down to Danny's scuffed shoes. "Well, I guess it is
Christmas Eve," the man said, reaching into the inside pocket of his
fashionable overcoat and extracting a long wallet made of fine, soft
leather. He turned away from Little Danny for a brief moment and secretly
dug inside the billfold. Turning back to Danny, he extended a manicured
hand with a green bill held gingerly between his thumb and index finger.
"Merry Christmas," the man said as Danny nipped the bill from his fingers.
"Thanks!" Danny cried, as he stuffed the bill in his pocket and
hurried off down the street. When he was sure he was far enough away from
the man so that he couldn't change his mind about the gift, Danny pulled
the bill out of his pocket and examined it in the dim streetlight. A
five-spot! The man had given Danny a five dollar bill! His crippled gait
seemed almost jaunty as he folded the money and stuck it deep inside one
of the holes in the lining of his seedy jacket. A man couldn't be too
careful with such a large denomination bill on the streets Little Danny
traveled.
Danny cut through an alley and came out on a street
bustling with pedestrians. People scurried across the sidewalks clutching
large bags and parcels decorated with bright wrappings and shiny ribbons.
"Danny, have you seen Sonja?" A tiny girl stood in front of a
display window. She was wearing a long wool coat with artificial fleece on
the collar and a red beret. She had a blue, frayed scarf around her thin
white neck.
"Lisa, what are you doing out here by yourself this
late at night?" Danny demanded.
"I'm looking for Sonja. She hasn't
been home since last week and I'm afraid something has happened to her,"
Lisa explained.
"Look, honey, why don't you just go on home and if
I see your mama I'll tell her to get home. You shouldn't be out here in
this cold at your age" Little Danny lectured.
"Don't you tell me
what to do, Danny! I'm nearly 7 years old and you don't own me!" Lisa
wailed. "Oh, Danny, where's Sonja? I know she goes off for a long time,
but this is the first time she didn't come home for Christmas." Lisa
turned her back to Danny and threw an arm over her face to wipe away the
hot tears that were stinging her eyes.
Danny knelt beside the waif
of a child. "Hey, Princess, don't cry," he begged. "Listen, she'll be
home. She wouldn't miss Christmas," Danny reassured her, but his words
were as hollow as his eyes. Goddamn, that fucking Sonja, he thought. She's
probably lying around a motel room blitzed out of her head and it's
Christmas Eve! Danny tugged at the tattered coat the little girl was
wearing. "Hey, Princess, go on back to the room and I'll go find her. Go
on, now. Let old Danny find her for you."
Lisa turned and wiped
the tears from her eyes with her coat sleeve. Then she turned and looked
into the window again. A Raggedy Anne doll sat amid a cluster of other
toys in the store window. Danny's eyes followed Lisa's as she looked
longingly at the stuffed doll.
"Ok, Danny," she said, pulling a
folded sheet of notebook paper from her coat pocket. "But I have to give
this to Santa first, she said, holding out the piece of paper. Danny
looked up and down the street. Several Salvation Army Santas were standing
stoically at different corners, ringing bells and guarding their Christmas
kettles.
"I'll give it to him, Princess," Danny said, holding out
his hand. Lisa handed Danny the piece of paper, took one last look at the
doll in the window and ran down the street toward the old hotel where she
and her mother, Sonja were staying.
Danny limped down the street
with his eyes searching the throng of people for a glimpse of Sonja. She
should be easy to spot, he thought, that flaming red hair couldn't
possibly hide in a crowd. But then he stepped close to a brightly-lit
store window and unfolded the letter to Santa. It was written in a child's
painstaking handwriting:
Dear Santa,
We moved before last
Christmas and I guess that's why you cood not find us. We don't live there
no more ether. Now we live in room 23 at the Jack London Hotel. If you was
going to give me sumthing, that is wher you shood bring it. If you cood
Santa I would like a doll. I wood take good kere of it. I have been a good
girl.
It was signed "Lisa." Danny folded the paper again and
limped along the sidewalk. A tear coursed its way down his sallow cheeks,
zigging from stubble of beard to stubble of beard, as it rolled down his
dirty face. Danny reached up and wiped the tear on the back of his
leathery hand. I must be getting soft in my old age, he thought
sardonically.
He reached the corner where the liquor store was and
paused for a second. Looking inside the store his eyes got the same
excited light in them as Lisa's had gotten when she looked at the doll.
The store's shelves were lined with various distilled spirits. Something
for every taste and something for every pocketbook. The liquor store was
crowded with revelers doing a little last minute shopping before returning
to their warm homes to enjoy the holiday season.
He reached for
the door handle, but something kept him from pulling on it. He reached
again with the same results. He couldn't make himself open that door. He
turned and looked across the busy street. He stood there in the icy wind
staring at the shop on the opposite side of the street. Its windows were
caged like a jail and above the door were three brass balls, symbolizing
the pawn shop inside the barred front door.
Danny walked into the
alley beside the liquor store and, looking around to make certain he
wasn't being watched, reached inside the band of his ragged pants. He
fumbled with his cold fingers until he felt the string he had tied around
his waist, then he carefully pulled the string out of his pants. On the
end of the string was a ring. It was an 18 karat gold Mason's ring. It had
belonged to Danny's father, a 32nd Degree Mason. It was worth a lot of
money, but Danny had never felt such a strong need to sell it. It had been
his father's most prized possession and he had given it to Danny as he lay
dying at the Veteran's Hospital on Center Street.
Little Danny's
father had dies of lung cancer and when he gave Danny the ring he had
gasped out, "Danny, boy I want you to have this. One day you can give it
to your son."
But there had been no son and many times he had been
tempted to sell that ring to buy wine. He had even gone to the pawn shop a
number of times and each time he had changed his mind just before the man
paid him for it. The man in the pawn shop didn't mind. Danny would be
back. He was sure of that. They all came back. When the snakes delivered y
the DTs came on they'd be back, and they'd take half of what he offered
then. Yeah, Little Danny would be back.
Now Danny stood there in
the alley with the Winter wind whistling around the old buildings. In one
hand he held the ring. In the other hand he held a folded sheet of
notebook paper. "Yeah, Lisa, there is a Santa Claus," he whispered to the
trash cans as he emerged from the alley and strode purposely across the
street.
The buzzer sounded as soon as he pushed open the door.
Danny passed the bins of radios, electric mixers, musical instruments and
old stereo components. He walked up to the counter and Mr. Greenstein, the
owner said, "Can I help you with something?"
Danny held out the
ring. Mr. Greenstein had seen the ring before; several times before. "Oh,
you've brought the ring again, 'eh?" he asked. He turned the ring over in
his hands, carefully examining it for any damage it might have.
"I
need to sell it," Danny explained quietly.
"Ok, I think we might
be able to give you a little something for the ring," the silver-haired
proprietor said carefully. "How's $10 sound?"
"Last time I was in
here you said you'd give me $20," Danny stuttered with uncertainty.
"Well, last time you were in here wasn't Christmas. I've taken in
about as much as I can afford to take in on pawn today," the miser stated
flatly. "Do you want $10 or don't you?"
"Look, Mr. Greenstein, I
wouldn't be in here if the money was for myself," Danny exclaimed. "If you
won't give me $20 I'll try somewhere else." Danny reached for the ring,
but Mr. Greenstein pulled it away protectively.
"Ok. It is
Christmas," he said. "I guess I'll give you the full twenty." Mr.
Greenstein reached into a small box and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.
Then he handed Danny a form to sign. Danny scribbled his name on the form
and took the twenty from Mr. Greenstein's hand.
"Merry Christmas!"
Mr. Greenstein chirpped as Danny left the shop.
Danny jogged
across the busy thoroughfare, dodging cars and ignoring the angry honking
of the automobile horns. Reaching the safety of the opposite sidewalk,
Danny entered the liquor store. He went to the shelf where all the cheap
liquor and wine was stocked. He started to take down two bottles of Ripple
from the top shelf, but thinking better of it, he drew his hand back and
allowed his eyes to play over the rows of shining bottles. He saw that
they had vodka, his absolute favorite, on sale. Danny selected the
cheapest pint and removed it from the shelf.
As he approached the
check stand Danny pulled the five-spot from the torn lining of his coat
and stood patiently behind a well-healed man standing in the line. The man
turned and looked at Danny's squalid appearance. His nose wrinkled and he
turned away from Danny. Danny was used to it. When you didn't get a bath
but a few times a year, you get used to those looks. No amount of dirty
looks could spoil the moment for Danny. He had more than $25 and that was
more money than he'd had at any one time in years. He fondled the pint of
vodka and a thin smile creased his weather-beaten face.
Danny paid
for the vodka and hurried out the door. He turned right on the sidewalk
and scurried, crab-like down the busy sidewalk until he reached the
department store window where the Raggedy Anne doll sat patiently awaiting
an owner.
Danny pushed his way through the swinging doors and
approached a saleslady. She wrinkled her nose, too as she asked "Can I
help you with something?" obviously hoping she couldn't.
"Yes, I'd
like one of those dolls like you have in the window," Danny said politely.
"That's the one you'll get, then," the lady said. "That's the last
one we have left." She walked over to the display window and removed the
doll. Then she took it to the cashier's stand. She'd seen too many
vagrants run out the front door without paying for the goods they asked
for.
"That's $10.95 plus .55 sales tax...it comes to $11.50," the
cashier stated matter of factly.
"I'd like that gift wrapped, if
you could," Danny said meekly.
"That'll be an additional .50," the
lady informed him. Danny nodded and handed her the twenty. She gave him
back nine dollars and handed the doll to a young black woman behind the
counter next to the cashier's stand. "She'll have it ready in a few
minutes," she said.
Danny wandered toward a display of Christmas
decorations. There were lights for Christmas trees, ornaments, tinsel,
candy canes and spun glass "Angel hair" scattered over a number of boxes
and folding tables. Danny fingered the ornaments and noticed that they
were on sale for .15 each. He selected a dozen of them and picked up a
pack of tensile. It was on sale, too, this being the last shopping day
before Christmas.
He started to take his treasures to the check
stand, but then something caught his eye. It was an angel. A tiny little
angel dressed in a lacy white dress. She had a candle in her tiny hand and
a little gold halo stood above her blonde hair. Danny picked the angel up
and looked for a price tag on it. One dollar. If he bought it with the
ornaments and tinsel, it would take nearly four dollars of the remaining
money. He started to put the angel back on the shelf, but then he saw the
face again. The little angel looked just like Lisa. He took the angel to
the check stand with him.
When Little Danny emerged from the
department sore, he didn't look an awful lot different from the other
holiday shoppers; that is, if you didn't examine his dirty clothing,
unshaved face or shabby shoes too closely. Danny didn't feel dirty, nor
did he feel poor. He felt clean and prosperous as he limped energetically
down the crowded sidewalk.
He had traveled several blocks,
constantly shifting the packages between arms, when he came to a corner
lot. Naked 60 watt bulbs were strung between telephone poles and a big
sign made of plywood announced "CHRISTMAS TREES." Danny entered the lot
and browsed through the limp conifers still remaining on the lot.
"Everything half price today!" a young attendant told him briskly.
Danny fingered the trees, trying to see the price tags without
looking obvious about it. He found a tree about 4' tall whose tag
proclaimed it could be had for $6.00. "Is this one on sale, too?" Danny
asked, hopefully.
"Yep. They all are. Let's see -- yep, three
bucks and it's yours."
Danny paid the attendant and awkwardly
hefted the little fir tree on his shoulder. Then he staggered off down the
street.
Danny had almost reached the Jack London Hotel when his
nostrils were assailed by the sharp scent of cinnamon. He was in front of
a bakery and the shop's windows were filled with mountains of cookies,
cakes, pies and tarts. He pushed through the door and a tiny bell above it
rang merrily. He stood his tree beside the door and walked up to the
display cases.
A gray-haired woman with red cheeks and a kindly
face came out of the back room, saying, "May I help you with something
today?"
"Yes, I'd like some Christmas cookies," Danny said. His
eyes searched the rows of cookies with their red, green and white sugar
beads. "How much are they?" he asked.
"Tonight they are .50 a
dozen," the lady replied cheerily.
Danny finally selected some
gingerbread men and some cinnamon cookies shaped like Christmas trees. He
ordered a dozen and fumbled in his pants pocket for his money. He only had
two singles and some change. He paid for the cookies, wished the lady a
Merry Christmas and picked up his tree. The bell tinkled gently again as
he left the shop, heading for the Jack London Hotel.
He had only
gone a few paces when he saw flashing blue emergency lights. An ambulance
was parked in front of the Summit Hotel. He stopped as two attendants
wheeled a gurney out the hotel's entrance. Uniformed policemen stood
officially on the side of the sidewalk, keeping curiosity seekers away
from the gurney. A white- sheeted body lay on the gurney. As Danny stood
there, a gust of wind came up suddenly and blew the top part of the sheet
away from the body's head. Danny's breath caught in his throat. Flaming
red hair was clearly visible beneath the sheet. Then he saw Sonja's face
and there was no doubt who the corpse was.
One of the patrolmen
heard Danny's gasp. "Do you know this woman?" he asked, pulling the sheet
back farther. Danny saw a pair of panty hose wrapped tightly around the
white neck of the corpse. Her eyes were wide open, staring at Eternity.
Danny shook his head; he couldn't talk.
When Sonja's body had been
placed in the back of the ambulance, Danny stumbled off down the street.
He was so preoccupied with thought that he very nearly passed the Jack
London Hotel.
Danny dragged the tree through the lobby and the
desk clerk said, "Hey! You don't live here!"
Danny patiently
explained to the clerk that he was merely delivering a tree and some
packages to Lisa in room 23.
The clerk said, "Oh, what the hell,
it's Christmas Eve. You can stay the night if they want you to; but you
have to be out before the manager gets here in the morning!"
Danny
dragged the tree up the two flights of stairs to where Sonja had been
living with little Lisa. He stopped in front of room 23 and knocked. "Who
is it?" a tiny voice demanded.
"It's me, Danny. C'mon, open up!"
he said.
He stood in the dingy hallway and listened to the many
chains and bolts being removed from the other side of the fragile, old
door. Sonja was/had been a prostitute and she had installed several
additional locks on the thin wooden door in an attempt to protect her
child during her frequent absences. Finally, the last bolt slid back and
Lisa opened the door a crack. Then, seeing the tree, she threw the door
open wide and screamed, "DANNY! A CHRISTMAS TREE!"
Danny grinned
and, with his last bit of strength, dragged the little tree through the
doorway into the sparsely-furnished, drab room.
"Did you give my
letter to Santa?" Lisa asked excitedly.
"Sure did," Danny said,
"and he asked me to bring this to you." Danny pulled the
beautifully-wrapped package out of the department store bag and handed it
to Lisa.
Lisa's mouth dropped open in amazement and awe. She took
the package as if it were a soap bubble that would burst at the slightest
provocation. "Oh, Danny, what is it?" she asked in a whispery voice.
"I don't know. He didn't tell me." he said. "Maybe you should just
open it."
"Oh, no, I couldn't do that!" Lisa admonished. "It isn't
Christmas yet. And besides, I want Sonja to see me open it," she
explained. She was so busy admiring the pretty red ribbon on the box that
she didn't see the pained expression on Danny's face at the mention of
Sonja.
"Hey, let's decorate this tree," Danny said, pulling the
tensile and ornaments from another sack.
They decorated the tree
and Danny watched the excited look in Lisa's eyes as the tree was
transformed from a scraggly leftover tree into a majestic Christmas tree,
When she stepped back from the tree to admire it, Lisa said, "There..."
"Hmmm...," Danny said, "now all it needs is a star or something on
top of it." He looked around searchingly. "Let's see, what can we use?" he
mused. Then, reaching into yet another sack, he pulled out the beautiful
little angel.
"Oh, Danny! Oh, it's so beautiful!" Lisa exclaimed,
holding the little ornament with reverence. She stood on her tiptoes and
tried to reach the top.
Danny came up behind her and gently lifted
her by the waist until her eyes were on a level with the top of the tree.
Lisa carefully placed the little angel on top of the tree and Danny
lowered her to the floor. Then they both stood back and admired the tree's
radiant beauty.
"This will be the best Christmas I ever had,"
The muted joy of Christmas carols drifted into room 23 from a room
nearby. Danny sat with Lisa and sipped his vodka as she ate cookies and
hefted the box with the doll in it, trying to guess what was inside. Danny
watched her and thought how sad it was that soon the authorities would
find out where Sonja had been living and then they'd come and take Lisa to
an orphan home or wherever they took kids who didn't have parents.
"Lisa, why don't you go ahead and open your present?" he said. "I
saw Ebony and she said Sonja probably wouldn't be able to make it home for
a while. Said something about her getting a job across town."
Lisa
looked at Danny uncertainly. "She could call the desk. Why doesn't she
call the desk and leave a message?" she asked plaintively.
"I
guess she must not have a telephone where she's working," Danny explained
weakly. "She'll be alright. Just open the present so I can see what Santa
gave you."
"Oh, alright. But it don't seem right because it ain't
Christmas yet," Lisa said, already carefully removing the ribbon in such a
manner as not to damage it. When she had the ribbon off the box, Lisa just
as carefully removed the shiny wrapping paper from the outside of the box.
When she pulled the silver paper away and opened the box, Lisa gasped and
put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Danny...Oh, Danny! It's Raggedy Anne!"
she cried. "You did give Santa my letter!"
Lisa played with the
doll until after midnight. Danny sipped his cheap vodka and watched Lisa
with a tenderness like he hadn't felt in years. Then Lisa took the doll
and told Danny, "Danny, it's real cold outside. Would you stay here
tonight?"
Danny just nodded.
I'll just sleep beside the
heater," he said, pointing toward the gas furnace sunk in the wall. "Is
Raggedy Anne going to sleep with you?"
"Every night!" Lisa said.
Lisa finally fell asleep on the lumpy double bed she had shared
with her mother for the past three months and Danny sat in the old
upholstered chair nursing his bottle and thinking. He kept looking from
the angel on top of the little Christmas tree to Lisa lying peacefully in
the sagging bed across the room. Danny couldn’t bear to think about what
fate would become Lisa once the cops found out she was here alone. He
tipped the pint bottle and grimaced as the fiery liquid hit his ulcerated
stomach.
Suddenly, Lisa sat up in bed. She clasped the doll to her
chest and asked, "Oh, Danny, is everything really going to be alright?"
Danny walked over to the bed and knelt beside it. He looked into
the wide eyes of the little girl. Her eyes were filled with hope and fear.
She was hoping for the Right Answer.
"Yes, angel, everything will
be alright," he said, smoothing the hair that had fallen down on her
forehead. "Now you just go to sleep and dream about Santa Claus..."
Danny went back to his chair and sat deep in thought. Then he got
up and walked to the gas furnace. He squatted beside the heater and turned
the knob until the flow of gas stopped and the flames went out. Then he
stopped and blew out the pilot light. Having extinguished the pilot light,
Danny again turned the knob to its highest setting. The jets hissed; not
an angry hiss, more like a secret shhhhhh.... A gentle secret. That's all
it was.
Danny limped back over to the old chair and sat down. He
took the pint bottle and tipped it one last time. Then he gently set the
bottle beside the chair and winked at the angel on top of the tree. Danny
was tired and sleepy. He shut his eyes. Everything would be alright. Yes,
things would be alright....
"Room 23 should be right up here," the
big cop said to the little cop as they laboriously climbed the stairs.
"Hey, do you smell gas?"
"Yeah", and I think it's coming from this
floor, too!" the smaller cop said as they stood in front of room 23.
There was no answer to their knocks. The larger of the two cops
finally put his burly shoulder to the thin wooden door and splintered the
dry-rotted door frame. The smell of propane gas was overwhelming in the
room. A wino sat peacefully slumped in an overstuffed chair. On the far
side of the room a little girl lay completely still on a lumpy bed. She
held a Raggedy Anne doll tightly to her breast and there was a smile on
her small lips, which had turned a pale blue.
"QUICK! GET THE
WINDOWS OPEN!" the big cop ordered.
"There's no hurry, Smittie,"
the little cop said quietly. "She's in heaven now. There's no sense in
hurrying..."
Blood Cows
FACTOR 8: THE ARKANSAS PRISON BLOOD SCANDAL
Kelly Duda and Concrete Films have produced a documentary which details the corruption and greed that led the Arkansas Department of Correction to spread death from Arkansas prisons to the entire world. Hear the story from the mouths of those responsible for the harvesting of infected human blood plasma, and its sale to be made into medicines.
Duda's award-winning film unflinchingly documents the whole story the U.S. government and the state of Arkansas have tried to keep hidden from the world.
Click the photo of Kelly Duda at work to order your own copy of
Click the photo of Kelly Duda at work to visit the
Please help spread the word about this important film,
"Factor 8: The Arkansas Prison Blood Scandal"
Factor 8 Documentary website
along with the urls to the linked pages.
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