Golden Boy

by R. G. Lawrence

"Rather ironic, isn't it?”

  "But I saved him, I saved Tony. Now we can live normal lives. Goddamnit, I saved him, you son-of-a-bitch! Now let me go back home!"

  "That's right, Rodney. You saved Tony. For exactly six months. Then you both got into that automobile and drove to your deaths. Was it worth it, Rodney?"

  "No, no. Oh God, no." Crying, sinking to his knees in the middle of the parking lot, his head slowly bowing, touching the cold pavement, the gravel digging into his forehead, not aware of the discomfort.

  "You gave your brother six months of additional life, Rod. Not particularly what you had in mind was it?"

  "I wanted him to live, to grow up with me. Oh God, what have I done? Let me go back and change my wish. Please, let me change it, let me have a future. I want to go to college; be a doctor...I want to play football." Talking to the pavement, knowing the game was over; the home team had finally lost a game.

  "I'm so sorry, Rod, your future is now, was now. It's no longer an option, this future you desired. You traded it in. For this."

  "You knew, didn't you, knew what was going to happen, knew I was dead before I even saved Tony? Please, let me do it again, let me do it again."

  "I already let you do it again, Rod. You did it again. But only once. You changed history, made yourself feel good, for however brief a period of time. Now, it's time to get on with things. I have to be somewhere else, have to go offer a few more wishes to some friends of mine. Offer a couple of futures. Good-by Rod, good-by, my young friend."

  As the Wizard's final words sank into Rod's consciousness, the boy found himself in the fog, this one thicker, so much thicker than before. Then nothing, nothing at all. As if he had never existed.

  The Wizard stood watching the automobile burn, leaning against a light pole on the sidewalk in front of the Radford Wal-Mart store, watching as the emergency vehicles arrived, the paramedics too late to be much help, much too late to change history. Unnoticed to the bystanders, a fog seemed to drop from the heavens, enveloping a portion of the sidewalk further down the block, a dark figure walking by itself, the fog seeming to follow along, followed until the man was swallowed by the haze.

  Almost as though he had simply disappeared into thin air.

  31

  As Andy guided the Lincoln out of Shauna's poverty-strewn neighborhood, his mind was on the girl, wondering how his parents would react to his dating someone so different. And so black, he thought, grinning at what he envisioned his parent's reaction to be. But man, so beautiful.

  The girl had affected him, touched him with her honesty, impressed him with her drive to succeed, each little part of her future neatly in place. That girl's going to make it big, he thought, chuckling to himself. Whether my parents like it or not, I'm calling her tomorrow...and when I get home from school. And maybe from school. Probably write her, too. Boy, I got it bad all at once, he laughed, feeling more alive than he had in a long while.

  Coming up on the turnoff that leads to the Ravine, Andy looked at his watch, decided he would swing by his house and grab a windbreaker, hoping his parents weren't home yet. He wouldn't stop if he saw the lights on. His dad had a nasty habit of getting obnoxious when drinking. In contrast, his mom was just a run-of-the-mill loud and sloppy drunk. Thank God for Berta. The housekeeper had been Andy's friend and confidant for years, been more a mother to the boy that Mary Jane Webster could ever possibly have been. Berta would get a kick out of Shauna, he told himself, knowing deep in his heart it was the truth, that the housekeeper would be happy for her charge.

  Andy had never entrusted his thoughts or fears to anyone besides Berta. The boy had not had a close friend in the past couple years, nobody to tell how much he disliked his home life, how his parents were starting to disgust him. Only Berta saw it, understood. No, it's not disgust, he thought. Disillusionment was probably a better word. Or maybe simply disappointment. His mother's social climbing, his dad's growing alcohol consumption.

  As the boy cruised down the familiar street, he instinctively slowed down past his friend's house, the familiar emotions always with him, sadness a constant for the past two-and-a-half years. Looking out at the empty Littleton house, the familiar Century 21 sign stuck in the front lawn, Andy felt his throat catch, the hot tears springing to his eyes.

  The grass was overgrown, the trim of the house needed painting, had needed painting for over a year. Several broken windows had been boarded over by the realtor, keeping the small animals and birds from invading what had once been the showplace of the neighborhood. The hedges that Mr. Littleton had been so proud of were completely misshapen, sending the message that the owners don't live here anymore.

  Go away, leave us alone, the house was screaming. Our pain was too much for us to bear.

  Oh Rod, why in the hell did you have to die, he asked the darkness, wondering if his friend could hear him. Why were you ever stupid enough to let Tony drive that car? These last two years have been so hard without you, my friend. You were so much better than me. That's the thing that's not fair. If they think I'm a Golden Boy, if this town is so proud of me, they should have had the chance to see you. Rod, I wish you could meet Shauna. I know you would approve, would be happy that I finally found someone I truly like, that likes me.

  He punched down on the accelerator and sped by the abandoned house, away from the memories, away from the thoughts of past friendships, past love, and so many wasted lives.

  32

  "Andy, you are the most hard-headed guy in the world. What is your problem, anyway?" Susie was asking, frustration in her voice.

  The boy had arrived back at the lake to find the stranger still there, the three girls gathered around the campfire with him, talking excitedly. He was surprised to see Jody taking an active, happy role in the conversation.

  Why in the heck would I ever leave three girls alone way out here with a stranger, he asked himself. Especially a character like this guy. Some friend I am. Too many beers, I guess. Or maybe too much Shauna.

  "It's not what I don't believe or what I do believe, it's just that everybody isn't leaving here happy tonight. Sure, Gretta, you had a good experience. And you too, Susie. But Shauna was scared half to death by this hocus pocus."

  "Shauna didn't make a wish, did she? She just decided that it was not for her, and that was that. Don't you care about what the future holds for you, Andy?" Susie asked.

  "It wasn't the future I was thinking about, Sue. It was kinda the past." Turning to the stranger, he casually asked, "What about going into the past if we wanted? Can you do that?"

  Softly, seriously, the words came to him. "One wish each is what I told you. One wish to peek into the future, spend a short time looking at yourself sometime down the road. That is all I have to give."

  "I asked you about the past?" Andy asked again, growing indignant.

  "The past is just that...the past.”

  "I wish you wouldn't talk to me in riddles." Turning to the girls, ignoring the stranger, he went on, much more somber, sadness replacing the anger.

  "I'll tell you guys something. I miss Rodney Littleton so damn much sometimes. I drove by his house on the way back out here, and ended up going home and crying to Berta. Again. Sometimes I can't stand it. I know I'm supposed to go on, and I've done that to a certain extent, but man, he was the best, the very best friend I ever had. I sit around and wonder what it would have been like at Tower these last two years if he had been there. God, after that sophomore year we had in football, there's no telling how far we could have gone. He was the best friend I've ever had, like a brother, you know. I haven't had a friend, not a good friend since then. I'd give almost anything if it had been the Golden Boys instead of the goddamn Golden Boy."

  Susie reached up and took the boy's hand in her own, sharing his pain. "Oh Andy. Sometimes I feel like that too, you know, when I drive by Rod's house. I had such a crush on Rod in the eighth and ninth grades," she said. "I don't think he knew I was alive, but boy, he did something to me inside whe
never he looked at me with those beautiful brown eyes. I thought I was going to die when he was killed. That was the saddest funeral I have ever gone to. I never want to go to another funeral the rest of my life."

  Jody stifled a sob, her voice catching as the friends reminisced about their dead classmate. "Oh God, don't get me started on that...when I walked into that church and those two caskets were sitting there side-by-side, I wanted to run out and run all the way home. I must have cried for a week straight. I miss Rod too," Jody said, the tears starting. "Remember when he kissed me in the seventh grade, playing that dumb game after school. I melted. Then he wouldn't even look at me for a month. I had a terrible crush on him then, the only crush I ever had on a guy. Funny how things work out. He could have kissed me anytime he wanted that year."

  "Do you ever see Rod's parents anymore, Andy?" Susie asked, the memories of their friend flooding back into all of their minds. "Mrs. Littleton was the nicest mother of anyone. When she was our room-mother in the sixth grade, she's the only one that ever knew all our names and remembered all our birthdays. Remember, every single one of us got a surprise party that year on our birthday. Even though we knew it was going to happen, it was still so neat, acting surprised for her. I haven't seen them at mass in so long. Do you ever see them?"

  "That was about the hardest part of all of it," Andy answered. "Rod's mom was like a second mother to me. She understood things my mom will never understand. We had the best times together, Rod and Tony and me and Mrs. Littleton. She was like one of the guys, always making us realize how important we were, then making fun of us when we got too big for our britches. She used to catch me and Rod doing something wrong and, if it was harmless, she would go along with it. She caught us drinking beer a few times, but just so we did it when she was around, she didn't ever bust us. She was so cool...and then, you know, after the accident, she crawled into a shell and seemed to die inside."

  "My heart was breaking for her at the funeral," Jody said. "Then, at the cemetery, when they were lowering those caskets in the ground, I thought she was going to die right there. I think she wanted to, that poor, poor woman."

  "For the first couple of months, you know, after Rod and Tony died, I went over there almost every day, kinda to keep them company, but also because I needed it too. I thought if I kept coming around, maybe they might snap out of it, but man, it was terrible. Mr. Littleton started working like 20 hours a day, sometimes not coming home from work at all, staying at the office or wherever, and Mrs. Littleton, she quit her job and wouldn't leave the house. She'd sip vodka all day long, never quite getting all the way drunk, but staying loaded, always loaded. I mean she had vodka for breakfast at seven o'clock in the morning. She was like a zombie, staying in her housecoat all day, never fixing her hair, quit working out. And then, after two or three months, she finally asked me not to come back, said she couldn't look at me without seeing her sons. And you know what; it was a relief, because we never talked anymore, sat around without saying anything. The worst thing was, before the accident, she had the greatest laugh, would start laughing and wouldn't quit. It was...it was the most beautiful sound, like music almost. That's what I hated, what I missed the most. I never heard that laugh again. Never heard it again. Her laugh died with Rod and Tony. When she told me not to come around anymore, it was like she was talking about the weather, no emotion, nothing, just, hey Andy, please don't come over anymore, like that. Not cold, not warm, not...not nothing."

  He was crying, not loud, quiet little sobs. Susie, tears falling down her cheeks, reached across and wiped the tears off his face, her touch soft, comforting. He went on as if talking to himself. "They moved away last year, didn't even tell anyone where they were going, didn't call or anything. One day they lived there, right around the corner from me, the next the house was empty," he finished. "And that lawn, that beautiful, wonderful lawn that Mr. Littleton loved, it's so shitty now."

  "That must be so hard, losing your child, both your children. I don't think I could deal with that," Gretta said softly, sharing her new friend's pain.

  "I think if I could go back and stop the accident, stop Rod and Andy from going out that day, then all that pain could be saved."

  "So do it," Gretta said. "Why..."

  Jody broke in, interrupting her friend. "Wait a minute, one fricking minute. I'm the first to admit that this has been about the strangest night of our life, and I'm not real sure I'm not just having this epic dream at home and I'm gonna wake up in a little while, thinking how bizarre it all was. But since we're all still here, and Andy has to decide something soon, we better think about what the hell the ramifications of all this might be. I don't know how wrong it is to take a peek into the future, if it's wrong at all, but even if it is, I don't think God is going to gong us for a little peek. It was damn fun, and a couple of us really learned something about ourselves. But trying to change something that happened because it was God's will...no, absolutely not, that is wrong, guys, it is dead fricking wrong. Those things that have already happened to us happened for a reason, even though we might never know what those reasons are. And if you change even one little thing about the past, who knows what kind of forces you stir up. Please, Andy, if you want a wish, look into the future, just leave the past alone, let it go. Rod and Tony have been dead for a long time. Let them die. Let them rest in peace. Please. Promise me." She was crying hard, speaking with deep conviction, begging her childhood friend, demanding the others to join her.

  "Jody's right, Andy," Susie said softly. "You got to let that go, let Rod rest. Let's remember him as a friend we lost, as someone who touched our lives, who we loved, but someone who we lost."

  "Yeah, you guys are right, I'm sorry; I shouldn't have spouted off so fast. Leave it alone, Andy," Gretta said. "Leave it alone."

  Blinking away his tears, the boy tried to smile, failed, then sobbed again. "I think you're right, all of you, but it's so damn tempting, changing something that hurts so much. Sometimes I wonder why I wasn't in that car with them. You know, that's part of it, I think, the guilt. Survivor’s guilt. I feel guilty that they were killed and I wasn't."

  "Hey guys, how about a toast," Gretta suggested, reaching in the cooler and passing around beers for everyone. Holding one up, she said, "To your friend Rod. Although I didn't know him, if he was anything like you guys, I know I would have loved him too. May he rest in peace."

  "To Rod," Susie said, raising her bottle. "To the other Golden Boy."

  "To the other Golden Boy," the others echoed, each member of the circle toasting their friend, the long dead Rodney Littleton.

  33

  "Every one of you guys has been surprised by what you've seen. In my opinion, the only one that's had even an ounce of sense was Shauna, she went home and went to bed," Andy said, doubt still plaguing him about the stranger, and about the strange night, trying to inwardly talk himself out of any further association with the man, his curiosity making him hang on.

  "But they've been wonderful, good surprises, Andy, for all three of us." Gretta explained. "We've had the time of our lives tonight. I've known Shauna her whole life, and what she did is perfectly in character for her. She is the most orderly, completely together person in the world. She doesn't need to see into the future. Hell, she knows the future, expects it to turn out exactly like she planned it. And I bet anything it does. But man, I never in my wildest dreams could have predicted what very possibly, apparently probably, is going to happen to me. And it has changed everything about my way of looking at the future. About the way I look at myself."

  Grabbing hold of Andy's hand again, Susie squeezed it hard. "Look Andy, even if you don't believe this is on the level, what would it hurt. It’s fun, it's so different. I've known you for 13 years; I wouldn't let you do something if I wasn't absolutely positive it wouldn't hurt you. I love you too much, you jerk," Susie said in a teasing way.

  Standing, starting to gather up all the empty beer cans and throw them in a paper bag, Andy looked tow
ard the Wizard, sitting off to the side, Jody next to him, one hand on his arm. "I don't think so. I think it's time we headed to town. It's getting late and I want to see if my parents got home from the club without getting themselves killed. They were already sloshed when we left, and they weren't home when I went by a little while ago. This has been quite a night."

  Turning to the Wizard, he said, "I don't know who you are, pal, but you sure know how to liven up a party, I'll give you that."

  Susie and Gretta were standing, kicking dirt onto the fire, watching it slowly burn itself out, helping it along a bit, sparks flying into the darkness, looking like so many lightning bugs. The full moon was directly overhead, casting an eerie, surreal glow down onto the scene. The Wizard hadn't moved, nor had Jody who occasionally would lean close to him and whisper something that the others couldn't hear.

  Finally, Jody stood, gave the Wizard a long, solemn look, and walked over to Andy. She put her arm through his, leaned close to him, her red hair appearing to be on fire in the moonlight, and whispered into his ear. "Come on, I need to take a walk. Come with me."

  It was an order, not a request, and Andy obeyed his lifelong friend without question. He let her pull him away from the others, following the path back into the woods, up toward the tiny clearing where she and Gretta had started the evening with each other.

  "Tonight's been great, Andy. Thanks for inviting us to your party at the club. I've really missed seeing you this year. God, we've really lost touch with each other lately. I didn't realize how much I've missed you until I saw you tonight," the girl was saying as they were walking up the path.

  "Yeah, it's been the weirdest night I think I've ever spent. But it's been fun, too, thanks to you and Susie. And Gretta, and Shauna…especially Shauna. She's too cool."

  A big smile spread across Jody's face, her white teeth gleaming like jewels. "You like her, don't you? Shauna. You really like her? I think that is so neat."