He lifted his face by the chin.
The boy stared back at him, looking angry and embarrassed, but not letting himself look away. He understood that too, that he was protecting himself even now.
“It wasn’t your fault, Clarence,” he whispered, “it wasn’t your fault.”
The boy winced and squeezed his eyes shut.
He let go of him, and took a few steps back, hoping he didn’t just make it worse for him.
The kid stood unmoving, head down, muscles working in his jaw.
He wished not for the first time that Max was here with him, or Ella, or anybody who’d know how to fix something like this, something this kind of unfixable.
“I won’t run,” the boy said very quietly after too long of this waiting and turned away from him.
He let out a breath, and let him be after that.
He finally got him to eat a little, but he still wouldn’t take the pain pills and he didn’t want to fight with him anymore today. He put him to bed on the couch, Clarence pulling the blanket quickly over himself, his arm over his eyes, hiding. The bruise on his face was an ugly purple and he didn’t like how large the swelling on it was. He got an ice pack out of the freezer and tried to hand it to him, but the boy wouldn’t even look at it. He crouched by him and pressed it to his face without a word, Clarence not moving anything, letting him.
“There isn’t a damn thing for you to be embarrassed with me over, I swear. Would you please stop hiding from me?”
The boy didn’t move, but he could see his whole body go tense.
“It’s alright. You’ll be alright,” he whispered, and without thinking, reached over and ran his free hand through the kid’s hair.
The boy gasped and recoiled from him, squeezing himself against the back of the couch.
“Shit,” he cursed reflexively, “I’m sorry, kid, I am sorry.” He drew back, not wanting to do that to him again. And he thought not for the first time of what he’d done to Telan in that way, that maybe it was like that for him too.
He sat by him in silence for a long time, listening to his breathing, ragged, and fast and shallow. The boy was panicking and there wasn’t a thing he could think of to do to make him stop. He didn’t dare touch him again, and he couldn’t think of a single thing he could say to him that would help.
“I’m all right, Maxton. I… I’d like to be alone,” the boy asked very quietly after a while, voice shaky.
He nodded, stupidly, given that the kid wasn’t looking at him, and let him be.
He shut himself in his room and reached out to Telan, telling him that he and Jake had to come over for breakfast tomorrow, bright and early. And he hoped this broken kid would be all right. That he’d know he didn’t need to do any of those things to survive anymore, and that he’d finally forgive himself for what happened, and maybe someday, he’d find a way to be all right with a simple human touch again without feeling all sorts of guilty for it.
Lancer knew he was making a lot of noise trying to cook breakfast, something Max ordinarily took care of, if only because the son of a bitch enjoyed it–something he was surprised to learn about his friend when they all first moved to Reston and the man had a kitchen to play in. He felt the boy standing behind him, watching him.
“Help me set the table. Four settings,” he said without looking at him, whipping the eggs violently with a fork, so they wouldn’t burn like they usually did when he made them. He told him where the plates and forks were and heard him rummaging in the cabinets and the noise of him setting the stuff around the small table. He finished making the eggs and toast, threw a bunch of fresh strawberries into a bowl, and brought that out. The tea and coffee he made earlier.
He had Clarence sit by the window because he wanted everyone to be able to see him, but mostly, to make it harder for him to run. He moved his setting to the seat closest to the door and sat down, poured himself a mug of coffee, and nodded to the boy to do the same. He saw him glance apprehensively towards the door, but he didn’t ask anything, and he didn’t want to volunteer that information.
Telan walked in without knocking, followed by Jake, his face still bruised. The boys stared at Clarence, surprise written all over their faces. Clarence stood up, his face drained of all color, and shook his head at him, and he could tell he meant to run as soon as the boys moved away from the door.
“Sit down, Clarence. I trust you meant what you said last night, so sit down,” he said to him sharply, and then turned to Telan and Jake and told them to take their seats.
They did, and Clarence sat then, his head down, not looking at anyone.
“Load up and eat, and then we talk. That’s an order,” he snapped in his soldier voice.
Telan and Jake served themselves without a word, but Clarence didn’t move, just sat still, looking down, waiting.
He didn’t want to force him, but he had to establish some authority over the kid if any of this was going to work. He stood up and grabbed the kid’s plate, dropped a heap of eggs and toast on it, and set it down in front of him.
The boy shook his head.
“You will pick up that fork and eat, or I will force this down your throat. Your choice,” he said very quietly, staring at the top of the kid’s head. He was breathing hard and he knew he was mad as hell at him for all of this, but he couldn’t think of another way. He watched him pick up the fork after a while and he let them all eat in peace after that.
Telan collected the empty plates when they were done and ran them into the kitchen, quick and silent on his feet.
“You need to tell them, Clarence. You need to tell them what you told me last night. It’s the only way. They deserve to know why you did what you did to them,” he said softly.
The boy shook his head at him furiously, not talking.
“All right, I’ll tell them then,” he whispered, and the kid jumped up, glaring at him.
“Don’t…. Please, don’t. You can’t,” he asked in a shaky voice, a plea.
“He doesn’t need to tell us anything, dad. It’s all right. I already know why he did what he did,” Telan surprised him by speaking, looking at the other boy with softness in his eyes when he did, and that surprised him even more.
Clarence stared at Telan, and he seemed afraid.
“He was an orphan, like Loren and Selena. He was only protecting himself, is all, because he was afraid … felt like he had to do it so he wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore,” Telan said in that too adult, deliberate way he had. He was stunned that this kid somehow figured it out and that he wasn’t wrong.
Clarence flushed and dropped into his chair, his head in his hands, and he looked like a little kid, fragile, somehow, uncertain.
Telan stood after a while and slowly walked over to him. Clarence stood and clasped his hands behind his back and then looked at his son, openly, not hiding. “I owe you. Jake too, just”—he shook his head, looking uncomfortable—“try not to break any ribs if you can help it. I don’t know if they can take any more of that,” he said very quietly and nodded.
He knew that he shouldn’t intervene no matter what happened, that the boys had to work this out themselves, but it hurt to watch him do this, knowing what he now knew about him.
Telan watched the boy in silence for a beat, and then stuck his hand out, Clarence looking all kinds of confused, not moving, keeping his own hands behind his back. “I’d like to be your friend, Clarence. I think you can use one and I think I understand you. If you can’t or don’t want to, it’s all right, but I am not going to hit you. I don’t think Jake will either. I don’t need to get even with you. I just wish you didn’t feel you had to do what you did,” Telan said softly, his hand still out, and he kept his eyes on the boy, waiting in that patient way he had.
Clarence finally took a small step to him and shook his hand, looking at him strangely. “I’ve never had a friend before…. I am not sure I’ll be a good one to you or anybody, is what I’m saying, but I’ll try.” And he spun around and q
uickly ran out the door.
He stood at the window, watching the boy dart across the tiny front yard and then drop to his knees in the yellowing grass, his head in his hands and he knew he was crying, full-on sobbing, and they needed to let him. He turned away, Telan and Jake watching him with serious faces.
“I am sorry for surprising you like this, boys. Didn’t know what else to do.”
“There is something else wrong with him, isn’t there?” Telan asked.
Lancer nodded, feeling oddly uncomfortable just remembering what he learned last night. “There is, but it isn’t mine to tell, son.”
Telan paced in slow, measured strides, thinking.
Lancer glanced over at Jake and the kid looked every shade of angry and uncomfortable. He caught his eyes on him and stood up. “Am I free to go, sir?” he asked in that timid way he had.
He nodded and the kid bolted without a word. He’d have to talk to him later then, alone.
Telan walked to the window, watching Clarence and he reluctantly followed his gaze. The kid was still kneeling. Everything about him seemed vulnerable, nothing of the arrogance from the day before. Suddenly, he saw Jake running to him, looking all sorts of pissed off. Clarence stood up. Jake was talking or yelling, he couldn’t tell, but he didn’t look like Jake normally looked, nothing calm or timid on his face. He watched with dismay as Jake lashed out at the boy, punching him in the face and all over the rest of him. Clarence put his hands behind his back, not moving anything. Jake kept punching him, his face red from all the anger in him. He wished he could stop it, wished he could tell that kid what he knew, but he knew that Clarence would rather take a beating than have anyone knowing that about him, and in his way, he understood it. He watched him double over in pain and then drop to his knees, his hands somehow still clasped the way they were. He turned away.
Telan was watching him, his gray eyes serious, old somehow. “Do you think he is decent?” the kid surprised him by asking.
“I do. I think he thinks he isn’t though. He is carrying a burden no kid should carry. He’s been, for years, and I don’t know if you or I, or anyone can help him with that. Don’t know if it’s the sort of thing anyone can help.”
Telan just nodded, and then turned around and walked to the door, without asking any kind of permission for it.
Jake was gone when he looked out the window again, Clarence still kneeling in the grass. He watched Telan approach him slowly, kicking at a few rocks, making enough noise for the boy to hear him, and he smiled at the wisdom in this kid. Clarence stood and faced him, his face showing the marks from what Jake did to him. Telan was speaking, too quietly for him to have heard any of it even if the windows were open, the other boy shaking his head, but not dropping his eyes, and suddenly, he smiled. A small, but genuine smile.
He felt like he was intruding, so he quickly cleaned up the mess he made cooking, washed and dried all the plates, grabbed a screen with the old books on it from the small shelf, and went to his room. He needed to clear his head, needed to escape, if only for a little while, from the world that bred children who weren’t really children, and where the rarest thing a kid could do was smile.
10
Paintings
Riley, September 11, 2244, Reston.
“It’s not any of your business, Riley. It’s personal,” the kid said, staring at him in a way he’d never seen him do before.
He paced around the empty clearing, running through everything Lancer told him. He didn’t want to split these kids up, but he didn’t know what else to do, not if this boy wouldn’t talk to him. He faced him, looking at him in his most patient way. “I am not angry at you for it, Jake. I just need to know how to handle it. I won’t pry if you can’t tell me, but I can’t have you and Clarence in the same unit. I’ll have you train with Brody from now on. You are free to go,” he said and turned away from him.
He heard the kid breathing hard behind him, but he ignored it. He pulled out a knife and walked to the ten-meter mark, balancing the weapon in his hand as he walked. He knew he was off by a few centimeters when he let it fly, didn’t need to wait for it to stick to know that. “You are dismissed, Jake,” he said sharply, and walked to the tree to retrieve his knife.
“I tried, sir, I really did, but I couldn’t let it go, I’m sorry. I needed to get even with him is all. For me.”
“Did you? Do you feel you’re even now? From what I heard, that boy let you pummel him. Did you know he doesn’t have a bloody bone in his body that hasn’t been broken?” he surprised himself by screaming at the kid.
Jake put his head down. “I am sorry, sir,” he whispered, not looking at him.
“I will let you stay if you make it right with him, Jake. He is still at the med wing, in case you didn’t know. You really hurt him. Ella is releasing him today. I want you here after supper. Alone,” he snapped at him and walked away without a glance or a word.
Ella met him at the door and smiled at him. “He’ll be okay. He’ll hurt for a bit, but he’ll be all right. Lancer is going to look after him for a little while until after Max comes back, I gather. Go on in, if you want to talk to him. He’s been up since before sun-up,” she said and walked away, shadow soft. He wondered if she’ll ever stop slinking about in that way as if she were still unsure she wouldn’t end up with a slave band on.
Clarence was at the window, hands in his pockets. He did not turn when he heard him.
He took a few steps to the boy and stopped, waiting.
“Jake, how is he?” the kid asked, without facing him.
“He is feeling guilty, I think. I threatened to kick him out of my unit and it scared him. Why do you ask?”
“He wasn’t wrong, Riley. You should let it go,” the kid said evenly, calmly, and it surprised him.
“You know, Lancer told me as much as he could, I think, nothing that wasn’t his to tell, and I didn’t go prying through your files or anything. I don’t need to know, but I can’t let it go. I can’t have anyone doing something like this on my watch. You and Jake are going to work this out tonight, or not, whatever it takes. I’ll pick you up at nineteen thirty,” he said to his back and left him.
He remembered how pissed off at him Lancer was when he told him what happened at the clearing, mad that he left them alone, but he just laughed at him. He always gave the kids one day a week to train on their own, so they got to know each other, and, in a way, so they could work out whatever issues they had without him being there to stop it. He just never thought they’d end up beating the shit out of each other like that. He knew enough about why Clarence felt he needed to do what he did now, and he knew, too, that Lancer screwed up what little plan he had. He couldn’t blame him for it either, only now everyone was uncomfortable around the boy, and it bothered him, but it was what Jake had done that worried him the most. He didn’t know what to do with the kid after that.
“You look like shit, Riley,” Lancer called to him from the porch. He barely slept last night, so he wasn’t surprised in the least.
He walked in and put up a pot of coffee, asked Lancer if he wanted any, and grabbed two mugs from the shelf.
Lancer was watching him intently when he finally sat down. “Spill it. You are putting me on edge and it’s too damn early in the day for me for that.”
“I think I hate that bloody kid - Jake. Don’t want to talk to him or train him. It’s like he crossed some kind of line with me by what he did and I can’t get past it,” he said, staring into the dark swirls in his mug, waiting for it to cool just enough to take a few sips.
“Brody told me something he probably shouldn’t have years ago, something that wasn’t his to tell…. About your father. I’m sorry for that. I think this, what Jake did, I think it reminded you of how it was for you back then, is all. I’m not saying the kid wasn’t every kind of wrong for it, but it doesn’t make him a bad kid. He just … I guess he was tired of being hit, small as he is, I’d imagine he’d never once won a fight, and for this big kid
to do it to him, it broke something in him, so he lashed out. I don’t think Clarence is the least bit angry at him for it either,” Lancer said softly and stood up, pacing and then stopping at the window looking out.
“It’s my turn next week, Lancer. I have to take these boys on a bloody op and I don’t know that they won’t kill each other. I thought I had them all figured out, all but Clarence, you know? I screwed up.”
The man faced him, serious gray eyes reading him.
He shook his head at him and put his head into his hands, letting the sadness take him.
He felt Lancer’s hands squeezing into his shoulders after a while, but the man remained silent, as he knew he would.
“I am going to make them talk it out or whatever they need to do. I have to. I just hope it’s enough. I’m just tired, so bloody tired, Lancer. I want to get drunk or go fishing or just sleep for two days. I want Ams to get pregnant already and have a kid, but I’m sick to death of thinking about it every time I try to kiss her…. I want to sprawl out under all those flowers in Laurel’s garden and watch the damn bees flit about from petal to petal and lose myself in it. And I want for just one kid to show up here who hasn’t lost somebody or themselves in all of this, a kid who is just a kid, you know? A carefree, smiling bastard who talks back at me openly and who doesn’t call me ‘Sir.’ I want some bloody peace, and I don’t think we’ll ever get that.” He sighed and dropped his head again closing his eyes.
Alliance: The Complete Series (A Dystopian YA Box Set Books 1-5): Dystopian Sci Fi Thriller Page 84