The Boy Who Would Rule the World

by Brian Toal

  "I'll be fine. Luckily it had cooled down a bit in the cup."

  She stood in front of him, her left foot on the edge of the coffee table, her fingers holding the material well away from her thigh as she allowed it to cool. She was beautiful! The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Which probably wasn't true. But she was here now, alone in the room with him and she really did seem to like him. He loved the way she stood, her jeans tight against her backside, her shapely ankle - he could see just a bit of tanned skin above her sock - the way she held her head with her hair, thick and wavy, falling to each side of her beautiful face. He was in love. Well, sort of...he wasn't quite sure what love was. He had loved his Mom and Dad and he had loved a dog he had once had. This must be the other type of love.

  "I'll be back in a moment." Carman took the teapot off the tray and placed it on the table, then picking up the tray with its clutter of cup, saucer and spilled tea, walked into the kitchen. "I can't believe it." She called over her shoulder. "That is the second time I have done that, this week. I’ll have to start using one of those driving mugs, with the little hole in the lid. It would save me from washing my pants twice a week." She put the tray on the counter. "I'm going to have to change out of these jeans, I'll be back in a second."

  Chris nodded. "Yeah, sure..." The debating team had begun again.

  I think she really likes you.

  She does not. She is only helping out a little kid.

  You blew it. She was going to sit beside you on the couch.

  Yeah. She was.

  Then you made her spill her tea. Good job!

  She was going to sit beside me because she was sad for me.

  She likes you.

  No she doesn't! She is just helping me.

  You could make her do something though.

  I don't want to make her do anything.

  Come on! You could do anything you wanted.

  I don't want to do anything to her. I like her.

  Loser!

  No I am not! For once, I am going to do the right thing. I am not going to make her do anything.

  Carman came back into the living room with a new pair of jeans and paused behind Chris as she looked down at him. "Wow! You really are quite the little thinker."

  Chris looked up, pulled from his mental debate. "Um . . . maybe."

  Carman sat down in the chair where she had been before, the coffee table between them.

  "What were you thinking about?"

  "Not much." Chris lied, looking away from her. Embarrassed about what his true thoughts had been.

  "Okay, So, what grade are you in, in school?"

  "Grade seven."

  "Yeah, that is a grade level I think I would like to teach. Late Primary or early Junior High. I think that children at that age are finally beginning to realize their potential. Earlier than that they have difficulty focusing, but around grade five or six they start to understand what learning is all about."

  "Yeah, maybe." Chris didn't really have an opinion.

  "How do you do at school?"

  "Okay, I guess. I was doing really good this year in school. Much better than last year. But then..." His head dropped, "I couldn't go to school anymore, because . . ."

  "Oh Chris...." Carman stood up and moved over to the couch beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and hugging him tight. "This must be so difficult for you. I can't imagine what you must be going through."

  Her body was pressed tight to him and he could smell her hair against his face.

  "I'm sure everything will be alright. When you get up to Seattle and moved in with your grandparents, you life will begin to get back to some sort of normal."

  Chris was listening to her talk, but the warmth of her body next top him, the smell of her hair close to his face, the way she had hugged him tight. She hugged him just like his mother used to. Arm across his back her hand on his shoulder. It felt good. He leaned against her, partially closing his eyes, not really thinking about Carman anymore, dreaming he was once again with his mother.

  "I suppose your grandparents will get you enrolled in another school." Her arm still rested across his shoulders. "You seem like a real nice boy and so you'll make friends quick."

  Chris closed his eyes. This felt so nice. He and his mother used to watch TV like this back home. His Dad away with his truck. It had just been Chris and his mother, cuddled up in the big chair in the rec room. Her arm around him. His head on her shoulder. Just like back home... Chris leaned his head against Carman's shoulder. Sometimes, when he was upset or sad his mother would rub his back.

  "The first few days are always difficult, but after that you should be fine."

  Rub my back with your hand. Chris commanded.

  "You'll get settled in nicely and with your grandparent's support you'll be okay."

  Rub my back with your hand. This felt so great. Just like being with his mother. She always had the answers. Always looked after his needs. All of his worries were gone. He was with his mother. She was rubbing his back and holding him tight.

  "And although it is sad what has happened . . ." Her voice trailed off as his command took effect.

  Carman began to slowly move her hand across Chris' back as he leaned in towards her, his head on her shoulder.

  Keep rubbing my back. He relaxed against her. All the stress and anxiety leaving his body. He pictured their rec room. The TV on in the corner. Another day done and sleep coming. He hadn't slept in a night and a day. He was so warm and comfortable.

  Until.

  "What am I doing!" Carman's shout brought him fully awake.. She pulled her hand away. "What was I just doing?" She asked again.

  "I don't know." Chris answered, not fully aware of what she was talking about.

  She pushed herself away to the opposite end of the couch, pulling her knees up against her chest. "I feel funny. And what was I doing with you?"

  "I don't know. Nothing, I think."

  "No. I was rubbing your back."

  "I guess."

  "I don't understand why I would be doing that." Her eyes were wide, staring at Chris. "Why would I be doing that?"

  "I . . . I don't know."

  "I don't understand."

  "It's not a big deal. I don't care."

  "Maybe, but I am in training to be a school teacher and there are boundaries between a teacher and a student and I just crossed that boundary with you. And I don't understand why. And I don't understand what happened in Jon's apartment either."

  "I don't know. You were just being nice to me."

  "No, I feel drawn to you for some reason. I don't know what it is. But, why would I sit there and rub your back like that? It's not something I would normally do."

  "I don't know."

  "Chris, maybe you should go back to Jon's place. I don't feel like me. Maybe I smoked too much weed. I'm doing things I don't ever do. And I don't know why."

  Chris sighed, then took a deep breath. "It's me. I can make people do things. I was dreaming you were my mother."

  Carman threw her feet to the floor and stood up. "Oh, Chris, stop it! There is enough silliness going on here without you making stuff up. But, I think that you may need to leave. I would lose my job if anyone saw me like that."

  "It was me, not you."

  "Chris, I think you need to leave. I am not well."

  Chris slowly pulled himself to his feet, then sagged back down onto the couch. "Can I at least try and explain a little bit?"

  Carman still stood at the opposite end of the couch. She opened her mouth to say something, then her shoulders sagged and she dropped herself into the chair at the far end of the coffee table.

  "I can make people do things." He began as Carman rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, I can," he continued. "A terrible thing happened to me this summer. I had an accident that changed how my brain works. I was in a hospital. Actually, several hospitals. And the doctors there saw what had happened to my brain and they couldn’t do anything about it. I can make pe
ople do things. And a little while ago, when you were beside me, I was dreaming that you were my mother and when I used to sit with my mother she would rub my back like that." Chris paused for a moment his eyes locked with Carman's. "I'm sorry I made you do that."

  Carman said nothing for a moment. "Is this true?"

  "What?"

  "That you had an accident and you were in hospital and doctors really told you, you had brain damage."

  "It wasn't really an accident, but the rest is true."

  "How can this be?"

  "What?"

  "That you can make people do things. I don't believe you."

  "Well . . . I don't know how to prove it really, but I can."

  Carman frowned, "Well, it still doesn't make me feel any better."

  There was silence for another few moments, then Chris said, "I think I know a way."

  "What?"

  "Of how to prove it."

  "How?" Carman placed both of her hands on the arms of the chair and stood up, moving towards the door.

  "I'm really sorry for doing that, I was just dreaming really."

  "Chris, I think enough is enough. I really don't know what to think about what you are saying."

  "Why are you standing by the door?"

  Carman looked uncertainly about the room, then back at the door in front of her "...I was going to answer the door. Didn't you hear someone knocking?"

  "I told you to go to the door."

  "Chris . . . This is not particularly funny. I'm sure I heard someone knocking." Carman opened the door and looked outside, closing it a moment later. "Oh, well, maybe I didn't."

  "Do you have a pen and paper?" Chris asked.

  "Why do you want a pen and paper?"

  Chris leaned back into the couch, looking at Carman still standing by the doorway. "This summer I had an accident. Ever since then I can do things. Sometimes I am not very smart and do real stupid things. Like tonight. I'll prove it to you, if you have a pen."

  Carman stood motionless for a moment. Then with a shrug of her shoulders, she dug out a small note pad and pencil from her purse by the door. "Here." She handed them to Chris.

  Chris bent his head over the table, quickly scribbling a few words on the paper.

  "What does it say?"

  "I'll tell you in a few minutes."

  Carman sighed. "Well I am feeling a bit better now. Maybe the weed has worn off or whatever. You can stay here tonight, if you want." She moved over the four racks of CD's. Moments later Madonna's strong voice filled the apartment. Carman returned to her seat.

  "I promise I will do nothing else while I stay here." Chris slid the notepad across the coffee table towards her, one line of his blue scrawl on the it's surface. "There."

  Carman picked up the notepad. You will put on your Madonna CD, I'm Breathless. She looked up at Chris, her mouth agape, notepad still held before her disbelieving eyes. "How did you predict that?"

  "I didn't predict anything. I made you."

  "You...made...me...choose Madonna?" Her voice incredulous and slow.

  "I made you choose the Madonna CD, 'I'm Breathless, yes."

  "How?"

  "If I knew that, I would be wiser than all of the doctors I have seen in these last few weeks."

  "But how is it possible?"

  "I do not know. But, it was me that made you do what you did?"

  "How about in Jon's apartment?"

  "That was me too."

  "What were you doing then?'

  Chris dropped his head in embarrassment, not looking at Carman, "I liked you."

  "What. What do you mean like?"

  "I thought you were beautiful and I wanted you to . . . I don't know . . . I just wanted you to notice me."

  There was silence for a second and then Carman laughed. Laughed like the first time Chris met her. Chris raised his head and smiled, shrugging his shoulders, "I just liked you."

  She laughed again. "Christopher...whatever your last name is...you might not be as good of a boy as I thought, as that is a really strange way to show someone you like them."

  "McCarter. My last name is McCarter and I’m sorry I made you do those things."

  "I guess. I'm still not sure if I believe you, but if its true, well . . . Christopher McCarter, you have a gift."

  "I don't really see it as a gift. It has wrecked my life so far."

  "Well..." Carman paused, thinking. "It is a gift. A gift, that you should use wisely. When people are blessed with rare and wonderful skills like you possess, they should only be used for the benefaction of others. Not for personal gain or..." Carman frowned at Chris, "entertainment."

  Chris nodded, trying to look wise and enlightened.

  "If you use your skills for personal gain, I think most times you will be misguided. Your own pursuits will lead you into manipulating people for the wrong reasons. However, if you pledge to only use your abilities for the betterment of others, you will find that you will do far more good and make a lot less mistakes."

  "Are you religious?"

  Carman smiled. "Yes. But, not in any major way. I’m not going to give you a fire and brimstone lecture, but this ability you have has a potential for doing great good in the world."

  "How?"

  "There are a lot of people in the world that are in trouble. There are a lot of places in the world that are in trouble. Famine, war, hunger. Maybe with this gift you can bring some relief. Encourage others to assist. This skill you have is unnatural. Perhaps you will be given some guidance as you get older."

  Chris shrugged. "Maybe. But the type of guidance I’ve got so far, hasn't been too helpful."

  Carman smiled sadly. "Well, sadly sometimes that is the way it is and then you have to make the best choices that you can - on your own."

  The phone rang. Startling them both from their quiet discussion. Carman jumped up from her chair, mumbling about the lateness of the hour and rushed into the kitchen where the phone hung on the wall. It was a classmate of hers, calling about something important - Chris could interpret that much - from Carman's end of the conversation.

  Carman returned to the living room. "Chris that was a girlfriend of mine. Her car is broken and so I have to pick her up for classes in the morning. Which means I have to get up real early. It’s time for bed. For me anyway."

  Chris stretched his arms above his head, nodding in agreement. "For me too."

  "There is an extra bedroom down the hall, but it’s my roommate's. She isn't here right now, but it’s probably best if you sleep on the couch. I don't think she would like someone else sleeping in her bed."

  "Sure, that's all right."

  "Great, I'll get you a couple blankets."

  Carman returned in a couple minutes with two blankets and a pillow. Instructed Chris on the placement of the various light switches, in case he had to get up in the night, then retreated down the hall to her own bedroom - closing the door behind her. Chris removed his socks and T-shirt, bundling both under the edge of the coffee table. Then removing his jeans and dropping them on the floor beside him, he slipped under the blankets.

  In the bedroom down the hall, he could hear the sliding door move several times as Carman prepared for bed.

  Chris lay on his back in the darkness, pondering the day's events. One of many eventful days he had had in the recent past. He pondered what Carman had said. She had said, he should only use his skills for the betterment of others, not use them to facilitate his own needs. But, back in Detroit, there was another God, a manipulative God, not like the one she believed in. A thing of great power. Powerful enough to make him what he was - and make others into slaves. It was the true divinity, not him, and it would always control him. Or least, always want to.

  It would be nice to go out into the world, with the goal of helping others. Never abetting himself, but always assisting others less fortunate. However, he figured his overlord had other, far more complex goals for him than helping the poor. Yes, he would remember Carman's words, but for n
ow he would use whatever powers he had to accomplish his own goals. Eventually he had to return to Detroit and use all of his skills in an attempt to destroy his own creator.

  Finally, Chris turned onto his side, his arm sliding under the pillow as he closed his eyes. Tomorrow he would begin his journey to destroy it.

  TEN - FOUR

  The apartment windows were still dark when Carman began preparing for school. Chris heard her start the coffee in the kitchen and shortly after, the shower in the bathroom. He closed his eyes and rolled over on the narrow couch, unwilling and unable to rise this early in the morning.

  He heard nothing more. The next sound that awakened him was a hammering at the outside door. An insistent forceful pounding. Not one to be ignored. He grabbed his jeans from the floor and staggered across the living room, jamming his feet into the legs as he went.

  Jon stood outside, the sun high in the sky behind him. "Morning, buddy," he nodded at Chris, "how did you sleep?"

  "Ahhh...fine." Chris answered, aware he had slept well, but not too sure about the waking up part.

  "Good. Is Carman there?"

  "No, she’s gone to school."

  "Yeah, I figured she would have." Jon scraped his feet uncertainly on the carpet outside. "Do you still want to head off to Seattle?"

  "Yes. Definitely!" Chris answered, coming fully awake. His ambitions driving the sleep from his brain. "But I need to call my grandparents and let them know I’m coming."

  Jon nodded. "Yeah, I figured you’d want to go today. Well, I'll still drive you, but I don't know if I’m into leaving today."

  "Why not?"

  "Well..." Jon hesitated, "I’ve got to get some work done on my car. You know...that back rim is still screwed and it should probably have an oil change and...well, it might be difficult to get it all done today. Maybe we should leave tomorrow."

  Chris nodded, shivering slightly in the cool breeze against his bare chest. "I don't care. But I want to go to Seattle and if you can't take me, then I’ll go on my own."

  "Hey, good buddy..." Jon raised his hands, protesting his good intentions "...I said I would drive you and I will. It’s just I need to get a few things done around here first, as well as dig up some cash."

  "Do you need any help?" Chris asked, not exactly sure how he could help Jon with any of the tasks he had planned.