The Boy Who Would Rule the World

by Brian Toal

  "Oh, that was good of Jon to pick you up."

  "Yes, it was." Chris responded, looking away from her face.

  "It doesn't surprise me though. I’ve only known Jon for a couple of years. But, I don't know many guys, who are as nice as Jon."

  "Jon said, he thought I was a girl. That’s why he stopped."

  Carman laughed, a deep rich laugh. Multitudes of chords mixed into its mirth. "Yes, I suppose that figures. Even nice guys have got to check out their luck. Was he disappointed to find out that you were of the wrong sex and...of the wrong age?"

  Chris shrugged, daring to turn slightly on the couch, to study her face more carefully. "He didn't seem to mind."

  "So, what were you doing hitchhiking in California?"

  "I’m going up to Seattle."

  "Do you live in Seattle?"

  "No, my grandparents do."

  "And you’re hitchhiking up from California to see them. Wow! That’s a long way for somebody your age to be going. Do your parents know you are hitchhiking that far?"

  Chris felt the now familiar pit of bottomless grief open before him. Clenching his teeth, his eyes blinking back the tears, he fought it away. "They’re dead." He answered, almost losing control as his throat constricted and his bottom lip quivered.

  "Oh no! That’s so sad." Carman placed her hand compassionately on Chris' forearm.

  Chris nodded dismally.

  "So, you’re going to Seattle, to live with your grandparents?" Carman offered hopefully.

  "Yes." Chris lied.

  "Oh, that's good. It’s terrible when things like that happen these days. Years ago, when families were so much closer, if parents got sick and couldn't look after their children there was always an uncle or an aunt who could make room for one or two more in their family. Now, though, families are spread out across the country and hardly know each other any more. When something terrible happens, sometimes the children have to go to foster homes or orphanages, rather than to members of their own family."

  Chris didn't know what to say and so he simply nodded, enjoying the warmth of Carman's hip against his own and her hand on his arm. He watched her moist, full lips as she continued.

  "Yes, the world is a terrible place now. That’s why I want to get into teaching. I think the only real way to make a difference is with the children, and so many awful things can happen to children these days." She moved her hand on Chris' arm stroking the skin under his jacket. "I’m so glad Jon picked you up. There are so many terrible people out there and some of them cruise the highways, looking for children just like you."

  Chris nodded again, as Jeanne elbowed Carman in the ribs, passing her the end of a joint, the tiny tarry brown stub clamped between little metal jaws.

  "Excuse me for a moment." Carman brought the end of the joint to her mouth and sucked a thin, long stream of blue smoke through her parted lips. Chris watched, his own tongue caressing his teeth as he studied the curvature of her lips. The way her lips puckered in a little pout as she sucked the smoke past her white teeth and into the warmth of her mouth. Her face was so tanned and so smooth, little concave dimples hollowing her cheeks as she inhaled the smoke. She passed the joint back to Jeanne and turned, again bathing him in her bright smile.

  "I hope you don't mind. I don't smoke it often."

  "No, it doesn't bother me." Chris mumbled, forcing Carman to lower her head to hear him.

  "Good." She patted his arm again, her hand warm through the thin jacket, and then changed the topic. "Did I hear right? Jim was saying Jon is going to drive you up to Seattle?"

  "He said he would."

  "Wow! That's great for you. I’m amazed he’d volunteer to do that. He doesn't have much money."

  Chris elected to say nothing about his part in Jon's decision to drive him even this far. "I guess he wanted to go there anyway."

  "Really? I hadn't heard that. Maybe he thinks he could find a job there. He certainly has been having trouble finding work here in Portland, although I don't know if Seattle would be much better."

  "I don't know, he didn't say."

  "Oh, well...maybe he’s just going there to help you out. Jon used to volunteer with some kids’ groups a few years ago and although he doesn't talk about it much, I think he has a soft spot for hard luck cases. Not that..." She quickly added "...I think you are a hard luck case. It’s just that Jon sometimes helps people out for the most inexplicable reasons."

  Chris nodded, not sure of what to say. Although he certainly was unhappy when she removed her hand from his arm and continued.

  "But I’m glad that he is. It would have been so dangerous for you to continue to hitchhike. The world is such a dangerous place now. All those rapists and murderers you read about in the papers. I try not to let it bother me too much and just take precautions. But it’s getting worse and worse..."

  Put your hand back on my arm. Chris commanded, picturing her hand moving onto his arm, but not pushing at it, not making it happen himself, just directing the thoughts at her.

  "Now, I don't want to scare you, and since you’re getting a ride with Jon, you’ll have a safe journey away, but only two weeks ago..."

  Her hand came back down on Chris' arm.

  "...there were two men arrested right here in Portland..."

  Rub your hand up and down on my arm. He sent the thoughts racing towards her.

  "...they had been cruising the back roads in an old police car. One that had been sold off at a county auction..."

  Her hand began to lightly rub Chris' arm from his wrist up to his elbow.

  "...of course, there weren't any emblems on the side. They always paint those over when..."

  Rub your hand all the way up to my shoulder. He sent the images to her and waited.

  "...but these guys had got some sign shop. You know, those shops that make the magnetic signs that..."

  She stopped talking, sitting for a moment silently. Then she turned slightly on the couch, her knee pressing against Chris' leg and deliberately and carefully stroked his arm from his wrist all the up to his shoulder. Once. Pausing. Then her hand moved slowly down his arm, skipping the elbow to gently massage his forearm, resting finally at his wrist. Then she stopped, looking at him with surprise. "Sorry, I don't know why I did that. I must have got a bit carried away with my own story."

  She smiled weakly, moving her knee away from his leg and returning to her original position, with only their hips touching at the rear of the sofa.

  Chris let out an explosion of pent-up breath, the pounding of the music covering the noise. God, what was he doing? He hadn't meant to do that. He just liked her. He hadn't wanted to force her to do anything. He took another deep breath, releasing it slowly, the party swirling around him. Stop it! He couldn't be doing this. What was he, some sort of pervert, just like Carman had been talking about?

  Carman turned her hips, the side of her buttocks, tight against Chris' thigh, as she whispered something into Jeanne's ear.

  Did she do that on purpose? Does she like me? Chris wondered, waiting to see what would happen next. What was he thinking? No, she didn't particularly like him. He was just a kid whom she had been forced to entertain. But why did he like her so much? He tried to analyse his thoughts. Pages of psychology books and critiques of modern sexual theories flashed through his head. No, he was just a kid, who had never before, been thrust this close to a fully developed woman who wasn't a relative, or at least a friend of his parents. No, she didn't like him. It was him that liked her.

  Collaborating this thought, Carman suddenly moved her hip away from Chris' leg and stood up. She bent down and said a few more words into Jeanne's ear, then dodging Chris' feet, she went into the kitchen.

  Chris didn't even watch her walk away. He couldn't. He’d been a total fool. Carman may even be Jon's girlfriend or the girlfriend of any one of the grown men present. If they had seen what he had made her do, then in a moment he could be standing face to navel with some guy about to pound his brains out.
Then what would he do? Kill somebody else? Tear up a house and a whole bunch of people, just because he had suddenly wanted some girl, who hardly knew him, to pay more attention to him than she should. He was so stupid!

  Chris was so involved in his own thoughts, that he failed to see Carman return, standing over him at the end of the couch. Then he felt her hand on his shoulder.

  "Chris," she spoke directly in his ear, "Jon says it might be best if you sleep at my place tonight. This party may go on all night."

  TEN - THREE

  Chris was stunned. Speechless. Incapable of constructing a sentence. "Uhhh...." He muttered looking up into Carman's face.

  Carman smiled again and explained. "I’ve had enough partying for tonight and so I’m going home. I live just next door and I suggested to Jon, that you stay with me tonight, because this party will likely go on real late, and lots of these guys will probably be crashing here too. I’ve got more room and you can likely sleep better without all the noise."

  Chris wasn't thinking of sleeping. No, an impromptu debating team had taken their seats. Wow! She must really like you. She has invited you to her house.

  She is just being kind, that's all.

  Wonder if she really, really likes you?

  A little bit she does, I guess.

  Maybe a lot - and she is hot!!

  So what, I'm just a kid.

  Maybe time to try on the big pants, boy.

  What?!!!

  "Chris..." Carman shook his shoulder impatiently. "Do you want to stay here or sleep at my place?"

  Chris sat, immobile looking up into her face. "Ahhh...I-want-to-sleep-at-your-place." It came out in a rush.

  Well..." she said, reaching down and wrapping her warm fingers around Chris' hand. "...what are you waiting for? Let's go."

  Jon stopped them at the door, placing his hand on Chris' head, like a teacher addressing a small child. Quickly, Chris reached up and yanked the hand off, glancing at Carman to see if she had noticed the demeaning insult. "Hey, Chris, I hope you don't mind crashing at Carman's? This place will likely be rock'in till the sun's up."

  Chris shook his head and answered in a voice indicating it was an evil he could tolerate. "No, it’s probably best. I need to get some sleep anyway."

  "Okay, buddy. Hey, if you get a second wind and feel like coming back later. Do it. I'm not kicking you out or anything."

  Chris nodded as Jon leaned over his head, crushing Chris between the warm soft body of Carman and his harder - and smellier, Chris noticed - chest. Jon gave Carman a quick kiss on the cheek and over the music he heard Jon mutter, "Thanks."

  For a moment, terrible rage swept through Chris' mind and he felt like lashing out, destroying Jon and scattering his parts across the room, for making him feel so small and bothersome. But, he pushed the visions away, refusing to let them linger. Then he felt Carman's warm, caring hand on his shoulder.

  "Come on." She said, opening the door and preceding him from the party.

  The layout of Carman's apartment was identical to Jon's, but reversed. There was no other similarity. Two arm chairs were arranged before a long, light grey couch, a rectangular coffee table within reach of them all. An entertainment unit stood against the wall with four stacks of CDs arranged on a shelf above a blank television screen. Numerous pastel prints decorated the walls, inter-spaced with others of gaudy reds, yellows and blacks. Like Jon's apartment, the kitchen served as the passageway to the remainder of the living space. A short hall with four doors beyond.

  Chris stood on the mat inside the door, and self-consciously removed his running shoes, aware of the unspoiled carpet before him. Carman had already slipped off her shoes and was working at the sink, her light blue socks matching the colour of her faded jeans. "I’m going to make some tea, Chris. Do you want some or would you prefer a pop or..."

  Chris dreaded what she was about to say next.

  "...milk?"

  "Tea will be fine." He said, as assertively as he could muster, forcing off his left shoe with his other foot.

  "Okay." Carman answered brightly, splashing some additional water into the kettle. Then turning away from the stove she called over her shoulder, "I’ll be right back."

  Chris stood alone in the living room, idly examining the various prints she had hung throughout the room. Odd, he thought, I’ve never had any interest in studying fine art. He had read texts on so many varied topics, but now that he thought about it. I’ve never read a single book on painting, sculpture or art. I wasn’t programmed to have an interest in it. Therefore, he promised himself, the next time I get a chance I’ll read a bunch of books on art.

  Wow, you are quite a little thinker." Carman's voice came from directly beside him, explosively interrupted his thoughts. The CD in Chris' hands tumbled to the floor and Carman laughed, "Oops, I didn't mean to scare you."

  "Ahhh...geez, sorry." Chris bent down to pick up the CD.

  "So, what type of music do you like?" She asked, taking the CD from his hand.

  "Oh, it doesn't matter." She had changed her blouse, to an oversized, men's flannel work shirt. The tails hung over the front of her jeans, ending mid-way, against her thighs.

  "Okay...well, I don't want anything real rock'in. I had enough of that next door. Have you ever heard of Enya?"

  "No."

  "She's pretty laid back, but it’ll be a nice change. If she’s too mellow for you, let me know and we can change it." Carman pushed the play button and turned towards the kitchen. "So, do you want some tea?"

  "Sure." Chris followed her silent footsteps to the doorway of the kitchen, where he leaned against the doorframe watching her prepare the tea.

  "Orange Pekoe is the only tea I've got. Hopefully you’ll like it."

  "Probably. Actually I don't drink too much tea, so I don't know if I'll..."

  Carman laughed. "Have you ever had tea before?"

  "Ummm...a couple times."

  "Did you like it?"

  "Ummm...no, not really." Chris answered, embarrassed that he had asked for tea and was now admitting he didn't even like the stuff.

  Carman laughed again. "Well, I have a couple cans of Coke in the fridge. Why don't you grab one of those?"

  Chris nodded and opened the fridge door, noting the variety of food, stocked on the shelves.

  Carman put the steaming teapot and a single cup and saucer on a cheap metal tray. "Let's go back to the living room," she suggested, preceding Chris through the doorway and into the other room. Carefully she placed the tray on the low coffee table and then lowered herself into the smaller of the two armchairs.

  Chris stood for a moment, indecisive, then chose the end of the couch closest to her.

  "So..." Carman began, "...are you and Jon taking off for Seattle tomorrow or are you going to stay around here for a while?"

  Chris took a slurp of Coke before answering, holding the can in his hand, rather than leaning forward to put it on the table. "Tomorrow, I guess...I didn't ask him."

  "Tomorrow, it may be. But, I know Jon pretty well and I wouldn't count on him being up before noon. Not after a party like he is having tonight."

  "Really?"

  "Probably."

  "Geez. I had kind of hoped to get started in the morning."

  "Well, you can bang on his door any time you want, but I wouldn't count on much action before noon." She reached forward and poured some tea into the cup. "So...you’re going to be living with your grandparents in Seattle?"

  Chris nodded.

  "Which side of the family are they from?"

  "Side of the family...what do you mean?"

  "From your mother's side or your father's?"

  "My...Mother's." Chris spoke hesitantly, wondering where this questioning was leading.

  "Well, you must be happy they want to take you in. Are they nice people?"

  Chris shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what to say. What he was sure of is: he didn't like this line of questioning. It could only lead to more questions. Querie
s he didn't want to answer. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of a way to change the topic. "They’re okay."

  "Well it’s lucky for you, you have relatives that want to take you in. I mean, there aren't many alternatives. Foster Parents or group homes. Neither of which is as good as living and being cared for by true family."

  Chris knew what the next question was going to be.

  "So..." Carman took a sip of tea, holding the saucer in her left hand "...how long have your parents been...when did your parents pass away?"

  He couldn't answer that question. He couldn't! He would break down for sure. If he answered that question, he would be blubbering and crying and sobbing and weeping. He must not answer the question!

  Spill your tea! He fought to get the right picture in his mind, settling for a slight mishap, rather than anything catastrophic like having her spill her tea on the ceiling or throwing her cup into the kitchen. Now he needed just a couple seconds.

  He took a long sip of his pop. "Ummm...it hasn't been very long." Spill your tea. Spill your tea. If she didn't do it soon, he would have to knock the cup from the saucer himself. But, then she would know something weird had happened. Better if she did it herself. Spill your tea! "Ummm...just a little while ago."

  "Oh Chris..." Carman's voice was full of compassion. "I didn't mean to pry..." She began to push herself up out of the chair and in a sudden understanding Chris knew she was getting up in order to move over beside him on the couch.

  Don't spill your tea! Don't spill your tea! He was jamming the signal, forcing it away.

  "Oh no!" Carman jumped fully out of the chair, the tea cup on its side in the saucer, tea cascading onto her jeans and the cushion below. "How stupid! I can't believe I did that." She clattered the cup and saucer onto the tray. "God, that’s hot!" Pinching her jeans between two fingers, she pulled the steaming material away from her left leg.

  "Are you all right?" Chris asked, truly concerned.