“He’s four years old, Jacob, he’s not demented he’s not strange there’s nothing wrong with him, he’s just a little boy,” she sighed, petting my hair again. it was long then, almost long enough for her to braid or tie back, which she did sometimes. I liked it, soft around my little face. but when I got to school the other children pulled on it. and It hurt, so I hacked it off with scissors. After that, I had it as long as I could without somebody able to get grip on it. now in the military it is all shaved off.
“He is, though, you’ve got to look in his eyes, there’s nothing there. I don’t know if it’s because mom and dad were so old or what---but he’s not okay,” the one who must’ve been Jacob said, “It’s not safe, it’s like he’s not a person.”
“I love him, he’s our brother,” she said, holding me tightly.
“You know he chewed up Trevor’s arm,” Jacob realized, “You just won’t admit it because he’s like your little pet!”
“He’s the only thing I’ve ever had,” she whispered, pressing her face against my head. I was reading about stars, I was happy.
“He’s not your kid,” Jacob says.
“Mum doesn’t love him,” she says.
“For good reason, there’s something wrong with him I think we need to take him to doctors going and chewing on somebody’s arm isn’t normal like that, we need to get mum to get him tested or something,” he said, “If you really loved him that’s what you’d do, get help for him.”
“He doesn’t need help, he’s fine,” she said.
“He is not! Two weeks ago you saw how he killed Stephen’s rats---”
“That was an accident he’s little---”
“He filled a bucket with water and sat there and watched them drown then took their dead bodies and started playing with them---”
“He didn’t know any better---”
“He was doing it to see what’d happen he’s clever, eh, Titus, aren’t you clever?” he asked, tipping my head up.
“Go away,” I said, “I’m reading.”
“How old were you when you learned to read, Titus?” he asked, kneeling down.
“Stop it---”
“You know the answer to that, don’t ask to prove your point,” I said, focusing on my book.
“How’d you teach yourself to read?” He asked.
“By looking at your school tablet when you weren’t doing your lessons,” I said, not looking up.
“That is not normal,” he said, standing and pointing at me, “Most kids his age don’t speak in complete sentences, let alone know how to read let alone---that fast.”
“So what?” my sister asked, “Leave him alone you’re just jealous.”
“I’m worried, about him,” Jacob said, “Titus, do you want to go to school?”
“Yes, I want to learn things,” I said.
“Why?” he asked.
“I like the way it makes my brain feel,” I said, looking up, “Hasn’t done you any good so I could be wrong.”
“You’ll like it,” she said, “You’ll go this fall, now shush baby you should sleep.”
“I don’t like sleeping,” I said.
“Titus, mate, I don’t think you’ll get along with the other children,” Jacob said, kneeling down. He was right. I didn’t. But I didn’t know that then.
“I have to I want a girlfriend,” I said.
“Do you?” he asked, amused.
“Yes,” I said, glaring at him. He didn’t have a girlfriend. “And I’m not crazy like Trevor or Stephen so don’t get your hopes up.”
“I think you are,” he said, “I think you’ll think so too one day.”
“Leave him alone,” my sister said, picking me up and walking away.
“Come on---it’s for his own good listen to the way he talks---we can’t just let him be,” he said.
“Why not?” she asked, angrily.
“Because what’s going to happen when he’s twelve? Or fifteen? He’s four years old and he’s already killing animals and intentionally hurting us, what’s it going to move to next? I’m not saying he knows what he’s doing---in fact I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any clue it’s wrong but that’s the problem he needs to learn,” Jacob said, following us around to the sofa where my sister had gone to escape him.
“He’ll learn. He’s little, all little kids do stupid things,” she argues.
“None of the rest of us did---not like that, he’s why dad left remember?”
“Dad left ‘casue he’s an idiot---”
“Agreed, but remember how he’d cry all night every night?---”
“Babies have colic---”
“Colic that mysteriously disappears when their father moves out? He slept through the night after that, remember?” Jacob asked.
“No,” she did remember though. I didn’t. I hoped my memory would improve as I got older.
“Titus why do you want a girlfriend?” Jacob asked, kneeling again and this time tipping my chin up from the tablet to make me look at him.
“Because she’ll be beautiful, more beautiful than the stars and she’ll go on adventures with me and she love me and be as clever as I am,” I said, resolutely.
“Okay, good reason, what do you think she’s going to think about you, eh? Killing rats, chewing on people?” he asked.
“I’m like other people,” I said.
“No, no you’re not,” he said.
“Well, she’ll love me anyway,” I said.
“I hope so, Titus,” he said, stroking my hair out of my face. I leaned away, glaring at him and wishing it was his arm I’d chewed on.
“Leave him alone,” my sister hissed, “He’s a baby can’t you see that? He’s a little baby and he’s no stranger than any of us were at that age, he’s just clever. And mum leaving him locked up at home all day hasn’t done him any good either.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like she can send him to school or care the way he is,” Jacob said, sitting next to us.
“Just go away,” she said, rocking me and putting her head on mine as I read.
“I’m only trying to help you, sis, really, I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he said, reaching out to touch her arm but she pulled away. But she did get hurt. She died in fact, less than ten years after that conversation. She died, cold and afraid in a dark alley. But I didn’t know that then. Then I just leaned back against her soft chest, thinking about how women’s chests were softer than men’s and that was a nice sort of thing for biology to do for us men in the world. And I think I did fall asleep as she stroked my hair, shush me and telling me there was nothing wrong with me and not to mind Jacob because I was normal and sweet and he was just plain stupid.
But she was wrong.
“Shh,” a hand is stroking my hair, then puts a cool cloth to my face.
I open my eyes groggily. I’m still sitting in the hospital bed, except now I’m sitting up, and I’m not strapped down anymore. Tom is sitting in front of me, she’s got the cool cloth to my face and she’s wiping it and my short hair gently “Shh, how much did he give you?”
“You’re more beautiful than the stars,” I say, reaching out a hand to touch her perfect lips.
“So you are awake,” she says, smiling and standing up, “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Yes, yes I can’t stay,” I can’t let them find out. I can’t let them know the truth about me.
“Okay, come on then,” she puts an arm underneath my shoulders and gently helps me to my feet.
“I can’t---wait,” I stumble, “Where’s the man with no lips?”
“Dr. Truth Juice? Getting high on his own juice in another room, we’re safe for now,” she says, leading me to the door, “Are you sure you’re feeling better?”
“I am well, yes---no we aren’t safe, you aren’t safe,” I mumble, leaning against her, I want to die in those arms. Then it occurs to me that I probably will someday. That is a happy thought.
“We’re fine, I think I’m capable of b
reaking you out of IDMT, we’ve both done it before, how’s your throat feeling?” she asks, leading me to the door. I close my eyes to try to get some sleep while she walks me out.
“That is of no consequence I am well---but tell me about you why did you come here?” I ask, realizing she had no way of knowing the man with no lips was back.
“I thought you might be lonely,” she says, rubbing my shoulder, “And you’d gotten a few of us out, figured I’d return the favor.”
“I think he was trying to get me to tell him things---I’m so glad you’re here,” I say. now they won’t find out about me. Find out the truth.
“You were talking away to him for a while, then he just left you to mumble to yourself while he went off with his juice, so I went in and got you off of it and waited for you to wake up,” she says, I’m getting tired from moving, I slump down. We are on grass now. I like grass.
“Was I telling you things?” I ask, wondering if my lucid memories had been shared aloud by me.
“Something about your brother arguing with your sister, it didn’t make much sense,” she says, sitting down next to me, “We really ought not stop out here.”
“NO no---I must tell you things, to protect you, I need you to know,” I say.
“It’s okay---”
“No, you have to listen---you see, I have a strange, twisted soul. And every fiber of it is devoted to worshiping you more with every breath I take,” I say, reaching a million miles through the darkness to touch her face. she takes my hand.
“Shh, you’re crazy,” she says, taking my hand through the ether and rubbing my fingers.
“No—no I know--- that’s what I’m telling you ----you need to listen to me,” I say, sitting up how did I get to be lying down?
“You’re not, he’s got you on drugs, Titus, that’s all,” she says.
“No, I can still think I can still think it’s still all there----the way of it is---it’s still there---I still need to talk you that doesn’t matter, this doesn’t matter I’ve been needing to tell you needing to tell you needing to tell you----” I squeeze my eyes shut to force my brain out of the fog into her mind so I could speak to her. “There’s something wrong with me.”
“No, there’s nothing wrong with you---”
“NO!” I cried, crawling away from her, “You need to listen to me, you need to believe me, there is truly something wrong with me, listen to me.”
“But Titus---”
“SAY IT!”
“What?”
“Admit, admit you know there’s something wrong with me!” I cry, sobbing now.
“Okay, there’s something wrong with you,” she says, slowly.
“Now, now I have to tell you,” I say, taking a deep breath.
“Okay, okay, so tell me,” she says, taking both my frozen hands in her warm ones.
“I don’t want to go back there though, that’s why we’ve lived our lives, so that parts of them are over,” I say, raising my head, I realize I’m crying, “But I have to take you back there---” It was a cold night walking home, like we always did. for some reason, Hilda would always walk me home. She got off of work, and would come and walk me back from the technical school I went to.
“Why do you come every day?” I asked her, pushing my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket. The thing was warm, it hung to my hips, probably was meant to be on a taller person because it was used like everything I had. Underneath it I had only a white waffled shirt, and the wind cut my chest wonderfully, as though reminding me the world was alive when I was locked up all day inside.
“Because, you shouldn’t walk alone,” she said, shrugging, the wind tugging her dark hair. She was smaller than me just bit shorter, for some reason our brothers are all tall. But she and I were the small ones, I had passed her in height barely a year ago.
“I’m fine,” I said, walking ahead of her, “I don’t think you should come anymore. I’m enlisting in Space Forces, on my next birthday. I’ll be gone.”
“No I know, but I’ll still write to you,” she said.
“I won’t answer,” I said, stopping and blocking her from moving.
“Yes you will, you’re being stupid Titus,” she said, dodging past me.
“I am not, listen to me,” I said, tugging her around backwards by the arm, “I wouldn’t. I don’t care about you.”
“Yes you do,” she said, tugging away, “Let go.”
“I’m leading you this way---it’s a short cut,” I said, “Don’t you want to get home? Only you look cold.”
“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head. now I’d let go of her arm but she didn’t go. “I miss your hair longer, you always cut it now you’re in school, when you were little it was down to your shoulders,” she reached out and tugged on my hair. I slapped her hand away.
“You’re different, but so am I, I’m worse,” I said, motioning for her to go down the alley way between buildings. “I used to think everyone was a bit like me but I think I was wrong, I don’t think they are at all, not a bit.”
“We’re all a bit the same,” she said, following me. I didn’t even think about the alley then, the alley she would die in. or maybe I did maybe that was always there.
“That’s what I thought as well, but I don’t think so anymore---I’ve begun not to think so,” I said, walking backwards so I could face her, “You see I’ve been watching everyone else. they don’t see the things I see. And they certainly don’t feel the things I feel. And what’s worse than that is, I don’t feel the things they feel. And I hate that. because it’s something I don’t know. I hate not knowing things. It’s the worse thing in the world, the thing you don’t know. and I don’t know what people feel inside sometimes.”
“You’re being stupid, Titus, you can always read people,” she said, shaking her head.
“I’m not talking about that, I know I can get to people I’ve learned how to do that I know what it’s like when they’re angry, I get angry I’ve got an idea how that feels but---I don’t know what they feel like when they’re happy,” I said, “I don’t think I feel that. I don’t think I feel love.”
“Of course you do---you love me, don’t you?” she asked.
“No,” I said, shaking my head, “I think there’s something wrong with me, because I don’t. of all the people on Keplar for me to love, it ought to be you. but it’s not. I don’t love you.”
“Yes you do---I’m sure you do,” she said, “You’re just not thinking about it right, hear me out---”
“All right,” I agreed, wanting her insight. That was why I had asked her, because I knew she was clever, because I wanted her help. well, she did help me. she gave me my answer.
“---how would you feel if I didn’t come and pick you up?” she asked, “And walk you home? Or make your lunch?”
“I’d steal something on the way, or at school. I wouldn’t care,” I said, shrugging.
“You would, who would you talk to?” she asked.
“Myself, I wouldn’t care,” I said, “I realize I should, I realize I’m supposed to, I realize people do feel this way I just don’t. there is something wrong with me.”
“Why? What would you think?” she asked.
“I don’t think I’d think about it. you’d be doing something else,” I said, shrugging.
“What if I wasn’t?” she asked, stopping. She would never walk out of that alley. she stopped then, she never walked out. I didn’t know that, though, didn’t think that then even then. I swear to you I didn’t know that then.
“What do you mean?---come on it’s getting dark,” I said. see? I even tried to get her to come with me.
“No, we’re finishing this, what if I weren’t just too busy to come get you, what if I was around?” she asked.
“Like off at school? I wouldn’t miss you if that’s what you’re asking,” I said, I was growing tired of the discussion. And angry. Angry that she wouldn’t believe me. “I’m asking for your help, here not to prove to
me I’m wrong.”
“I am helping you, what if I were dead? Would you care?” she asked.
“How would you die?” I asked, turning around, looking at her white neck, “Strangled?”
“Why does it matter how I died?” she asked.
“Because, I’m only thinking,” I said, walking up to her and putting a hand over her neck, “Just thinking---like I do.”
“How would you feel if I died?” she asked, looking so fearlessly into my eyes.
“I wouldn’t care,” I said, “I told you, there’s something wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” she said.
“Liar,” I said, tightening both hands her throat, and shoving her against the wall.
“Stop it,” she gasped, tugging at my coat with her hands but not able to claw my skin I was wearing long sleeves, gloves it was cold out.
“Why? I told you I don’t care so why in the universe shouldn’t I?” I asked, staring at her, actually ceasing. “Tell me why?”
“Because you’re wrong, you do care, there’s nothing wrong with you, I’m telling you, you’re fine,” she begged, stupidly, tears on her cheeks.
“Yes there is,” I said, tightening my grip again. she struggled, but I was stronger, bigger than her, she couldn’t even kick me, her legs were that short. “Yes, there is.”
“Titus,” she gasped, then the life went out of her, right there and then. And I kept crushing her throat until I was sure she’d stopped breathing. Then I let her body fall. I went to the police, crying, saying somebody’d attacked her, she’d walked ahead of me, I attacked one of them and they got away. I had punched myself in the face, though, so it looked like I fought. They did think I might have done it, but you see the injuries I inflicted on myself were greater than what she could have done, so it couldn’t be me---couldn’t be----but it was. and it is. And that is me. and that is why by everybody else’s standards, as far as the rest of the universe is concerned, there is something wrong with me.
“Then let the rest of the universe think what it wants because I think you are perfect, Titus Card, you aren’t measurable by the universe’s standards you are measurable by your own,” and her hands were holding me as I shook with sobs.
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