The Boy Who Would Rule the World

by Brian Toal

  "Oh Chris..." Carman didn't move to touch him.

  Chris nodded several times. "I want to get my mother back but I don't want to go to Detroit and I don't want them to hurt her either."

  "Would they?"

  "Maybe. If they thought they could get to me that way."

  "Then we go to the TV Station." Jon said emphatically.

  "No. If I went on TV, they might kill my Mom and move the machine someplace else so the police couldn't find it."

  "So...what do you want to do?" Carman asked again.

  Chris sat silently for a moment before answering. "We find out where my Mom is in Detroit and then we arrange for her to fly out here to meet me. Then we go to the TV Station and tell everybody what is going on."

  Jon and Carman nodded in agreement.

  "After I get my Mom back, it doesn't matter what happens to me, just as long as that thing in Detroit gets stopped."

  "Okay, buddy. That sounds like a plan I can live with. After seeing you this morning on TV, I wasn't that keen on driving you up to Seattle anyway."

  "Except to get the reward." Carman added.

  "Hey! I agreed to drive him, before I knew about the reward."

  Carman smiled. "True, you did. I knew you couldn't be all bad."

  Jon shook his head in disgust. "Give me a break. I agreed to help the kid out, because he seemed like he could do with a hand, and a road-trip sounded like more fun than just hanging out here and playing more endless games of golf."

  "Golf? Do you play golf?" Chris asked, pushing himself upright in his seat.

  "Do you?"

  "Yes!" Chris exclaimed. "My Dad taught me a couple of summers ago and I love it! Since we aren't going up to Seattle today, maybe you and I could play a game this afternoon."

  "And how about me?" Carman interjected. "Do I get to come along or is it a boy's only game?"

  "You play too?"

  "Yeah, and I can beat Jon's ass every time."

  Chris laughed. "Please...can we? I'd really like to. I don't have much money left, but my Mom will pay you back when she gets here."

  "I'll pay your way," Jon spoke up, "if you tell Carman she can't come with us."

  "Jon! That’s a terrible thing to say. Why don't you want me to come along?"

  Jon sighed dramatically. "Carman it's a man thing. How the hell do you expect me to impress the boy if you are out there whipping my ass?"

  "It would do you and your man thing good. I'll pay for Chris."

  "Good."

  "What!"

  "I said good. I was hoping I wouldn't need to pay."

  Carman stared incredulously across the coffee table at Jon and then laughed, shaking her head despairingly. "Jon, sometimes I don't know if I hate you, like you, despise you or love you."

  Jon smiled a big grin. "A bit of love would be nice."

  Carman laughed again. "Don't get your hopes up, because I'm in this now and I'll be with you two, both this afternoon for golf, and until Chris gets his mother back."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ONE

  The Federal Express Envelope arrived at the Rutherford's just after three on Monday afternoon. Charlie responded to the knock on the door, knowing as he walked down the hall, it was not one of them. He rarely dealt with outsiders now, besides gas attendants and store clerks, and he mentally prepared himself for any necessary facial expressions as he opened the door.

  The delivery driver stood on the porch, a large envelope clutched in his hand. "I have an express envelope for the Rutherford's." He announced as Charlie stepped onto the porch.

  "Okay."

  "Could you sign here please?"

  Charlie scrawled his signature and then the driver was gone, striding down the sidewalk towards his van.

  Charlie turned the envelope over in his hands. The return address read. Chris McCarter, 111 Dontwantyoutoknow Street, Seattle, Washington.

  He hurried inside.

  Dear Uncle Charlie and Aunt Beth;

  I am writing to you about my Mother. I phoned the hospital where she went after the accident and they told me she was transferred to Detroit. But she is not at home and none of the neighbours know where she is. I think you made her come to Detroit and then you made her stay away from our house. I also think you made people make those ads on television that say I have been kidnapped. You know that is not true. !!!!! I AM NOT VERY HAPPY!!!!! I think know that you are both part of the machine Todd and I found in Canada. I think you took my Mom away and sent her back to Detroit so that I would go there too. !!!!!I AM NOT GOING TO GO BACK TO DETROIT!!!! I know it is there and it makes me do things I can't stop. !!!!!I WANT MY MOTHER BACK!!!! I am going to phone you on Tuesday at 11:00 in the morning, but I am not going to talk for a long time because I think maybe there are more people than just you two that are part of it. Maybe the police. And I am going to threaten you too. If you don't get my mother to where I want her to go, then I am going to call the newspaper people here and the TV people too and everyone I can think of and do things. I'll lift them up into the air and move some stuff around and I'll break some other stuff too and then everyone will know that I can do things and they will lock me up in someplace that you will never be able to find. And then you will NEVER, NEVER, NEVER be able to get me and that alien machine in Detroit will be real mad and hurt you too. !!!!!I WANT MY MOTHER BACK!!!!

  Yours sincerely;

  Chris McCarter

  Sergeant Gallow of the Detroit Police Force replaced the cap on his pen and sat rigidly at his desk. Ten...fifteen seconds passed, then he nodded to himself. Shoving his paper work out of the way he reached for the phone, the Seattle Police Department’s phone number was already programmed into his phone's auto-dialler.

  The phone rang in the Rutherford's kitchen at two minutes to eleven the next morning. "Hello?" Charlie spoke into the phone, ready to slam down the receiver if it was a caller other than the one he expected.

  "Hello, Uncle Charlie?" Chris' high voice was clearly audible over the telephone. "I’m not going to talk very long in case you have people tracing this call."

  "There is no one tracing this call." Charlie spoke slowly and carefully.

  "Well, there may be...I want you to fly my Mom to Seattle. I want her away from that thing in Detroit."

  "Seattle? Why Seattle?"

  "Because that’s where I am and I want her here with me."

  "She’s been arrested, Chris. The police are holding her in custody."

  "Arrested? Bull! You guys made the police try and arrest my Mom and Dad in California, and so you probably got them to arrest her on something fake when she got back to Detroit. My Mom has never done anything wrong. Never! It’s you and the police that are wrong. My Dad never did anything wrong either, he...he..." Charlie heard Chris' voice catch as he stopped speaking.

  "But you killed your father didn't you?"

  "Yes! But it was an accident."

  "Well, you might have more accidents like that in the future. Do you really want your Mother to be close by in case you do?"

  "Shut up!" Chris shouted. "You know all about that machine Todd and I found at your mining camp. It’s responsible for making me like I am."

  "I know. It’s here, but it doesn’t mean you any harm...."

  "Bull!"

  "Chris..." Charlie tried to make his voice soft and compelling "...everything would be much better if you returned. Then the police would let your mother go. You could visit with Todd, who is doing much better now. You could go back to school. Do you know, your friend Jessie has been asking about you? We could send you some money and you could fly back here and be with your Mother tonight."

  "No! As soon I got to Detroit I would be possessed, like last time. It would own me."

  "I don't think you understand, Chris. It doesn't want to own you, it just wants to work with you. You would be very important here and you could do almost anything you wanted."

  "I can do almost anything I want here."

  "Hitchhiking across the c
ountry like some fugitive, doesn't sound like doing what you want. Who are you staying with anyway?"

  "None of your business." Chris shot back. "I want you to get my mother away from the police and fly her out here."

  "Impossible."

  "Then I’m going to go to the TV station and put on a real big performance for them. Then I will tell them everything I know."

  "If you do that, they will lock you away for sure."

  "Yes, but they’ll know about you and I’ll tell them there are probably others too."

  "Be careful Chris. If you did that, there is a distinct possibility you would never see your mother again." Charlie paused as he realized Chris was whispering with someone else.

  Chris returned to the phone. "I have to go now. I warn you, if you don't get my mother away from the police and get her ready to fly out here, I’ll tell everybody about you and then you’ll be in real trouble..." Again, he whispered with someone as Charlie did his best to overhear. "Alright!" Chris exclaimed, then, "I’ll call you tomorrow at the same time. You better have my mother there so I can talk with her. Goodbye." He hung up the phone.

  They gathered again, probably the last time they would meet at the Rutherford's small home as the construction at their office space in the Financier Centre was progressing rapidly. The wood panelled board room was already finished along with several of the offices, but there was no furniture yet. It would arrive within the week. Then they could meet in more comfortable surroundings.

  They all arrived on time, settling themselves around the Rutherford's dining room table. Nine of them managing to squeeze around the table with Jonathan Whitmore taking up one entire end, as Charlie and the uniformed officer from the Detroit Police Force sat on wooden chairs behind the others. The thirteenth member was not at the table, but they all sensed its presence.

  Beth spoke first. "As you are all aware, we have finally made contact with the boy. He is someplace on the West coast. We presume he is in Seattle as the letter we received and the phone call originated there. However, we still have had no success in actually tracking him down or apprehending him."

  "How cooperative are the Seattle Police?" The Detroit officer asked.

  "Very much so.” The FBI administrator responded. They have fallen for the kidnapping story totally. In fact, the whole nation has. The Seattle Police got to the telephone booth four minutes after we got the trace, which is quite fast as the call was made from a telephone booth in a large mall - on the third level to be exact. It probably took them a minute or more, just to push their way through the crowds and climb the escalators.

  "So, we can expect similar cooperation from them tomorrow?

  "I expect so. But, it is important Charlie try and keep him on the line longer."

  Jonathan Whitmore cleared his throat, as he always did in the courtroom before asking a question, he believed, was of consequential importance. "What of the boy's threat of exposure? Will he do it?"

  "Probably." Beth answered. "He certainly wants to be reunited with his mother. I suspect he will do anything to ensure that occurs, including exposing himself to the media."

  "If he did. Could we recoup him from whatever institution or facility he would be placed?

  Beth paused waiting for some advice. When none was forthcoming she continued, "I don't know, possibly at some future date."

  "So, you would deem it pernicious if he publicised his singular skills."

  "Pernicious?" Beth frowned across the table at the lawyer.

  "Destructive, ruinous, possibly fatal." Jonathan replied. "Without the boy, we cannot expand our influence outside of Detroit. If the boy comes to the attention of the media and thereby others beyond our control, the boy likely will be housed in a facility removed from this city. If that occurs it will be difficult, if not impossible, to recover him. Correct?"

  "Yes. All of that is true."

  "Then it would be destructive and possibly fatal to our organization if the boy went public."

  "Yes." Beth said again, unsure of where the lawyer's statements were leading.

  "Then at all costs, we must stop the boy from demonstrating his particular skills in a public way."

  "Yes, I agree." She answered, the others in the room nodding their heads in agreement.

  "Then he must be reunited with his mother or captured within the next one or two days."

  "Yes, that is probably true."

  "Sorry..." Jonathan held up a broad hand, “...it is true." He turned to address both the FBI representative and the Detroit Police Officer. "What are the chances you will apprehend the boy in one or two days?"

  "Ahhh..." The officer from Detroit looked towards the FBI man for support. "It’s impossible to say. If Charlie can keep him talking long enough on the phone tomorrow, possibly we will get him then. Or some citizen may notice him at any time and call in a tip. It's hard to tell. Tomorrow, the day after, or a week - we’ll get him sooner or later."

  "Not good enough. Tomorrow, I can assure you, he is going to demand the return of his mother in the most immediate future. One or two days, maximum. If we do nothing to expedite her return within that time, then as Beth has assured us, he will go public. That would be pernicious." Jonathan folded his hands across his chest and those present understood why he was one of the most renowned Criminal Defence Lawyers in Detroit. "Therefore, I suggest we plan to reunite the boy with his mother, but also take advantage of the opportunity to acquire the boy. In most of the cases I have defended, that have involved kidnapping for ransom, the perpetrator was apprehended when attempting to pick up the..." He stopped speaking abruptly and the other eleven jerked upright in their seats as it spoke. The crescendo of its voice deafening, the commands spoken without hesitation or thoughts of disobedience. It continued for what seemed like hours, but was minutes only. The longest it had ever spoken. Its decisions complex and unexpected.

  Then there was silence, each looking to the others for reassurance it had finished. Their thoughts once again their own. "So..." Jonathan spoke hesitantly, "I guess that is it...we make preparations to move the mother to Seattle."

  "There is no way that we can do this in a day. It will take at least three working days to arrange this." Council-woman Julie Garrett spoke for the first time. "I used to own a company that planned conventions and corporate meetings. There is no way you can charter a plane, arrange for shipping and transport as well as book a meeting facility for over four hundred people, in one day. We will need more time...Oh God!" Julie's hands rushed to her head as it spoke with her alone. The others waited patiently, knowing she was incapable of thought, her entire mind subservient to its power.

  Finally, she sagged against the back of the kitchen chair. "I’m in charge." She said wearily.

  The others nodded, understanding the rational of the decision.

  Quickly she took a notepad from her briefcase and opened it on the table.

  "Well, you may be in charge, but let me summarize what needs to be done..." Jonathan sighed deeply, his arms linked across his broad chest. “We need to arrange to have all of us present and approximately thirty others transported to Seattle..."

  "Actually, it will be a total of fifty-five." Julie interrupted. "I can charter a plane, Jonathan, no problem." She turned to Jim Wilson. "I’ll need money from the bank."

  Jim nodded. "There’s plenty in the accounts of Intertec. Have them call me and I can arrange an immediate transfer to the airline's account."

  "Great." Julie was bent over her notepad. "Beth what about...it. Will it have to be crated?"

  "I’ll ask Alex Baldwin. He’s doing the renovation work at the Financier Centre."

  "Good. Now, for the meeting of all of the other members... Where should we have it?"

  There was silence. Julie looked about the room, everyone avoiding her eyes. No one wanted to commit themselves to organizing that meeting.

  "Okay. I’ll talk with some others who might have some ideas." She jotted a few more notes in her book, then looking up s
he addressed the room - they knew to whom she was speaking. "But, it can't be done in less than three days. Today is Tuesday. I suggest that we plan our arrival in Seattle for Friday and, if necessary, we have the members' meeting on Thursday night."

  There was no response. They waited for several seconds longer before Jonathan spoke once more.

  "Fine. Friday it is. Charlie you must insist that the child keep the peace until Friday."

  "I’ll do my best."

  "And as far as the various police forces represented here," Jonathan continued, "do some policing and catch this kid, before we have to do anything drastic at that Thursday night meeting."

  ELEVEN - TWO

  "Hello, Uncle Charlie?" Chris' young voice projected clearly from the earpiece.

  "Hello, Chris." Charlie responded. "We have agreed to transport your mother to Seattle."

  "You have?" Charlie could detect confused elation in the boy's voice. "When?"

  "Friday is the earliest we can get her released and fly her there."

  "Friday! That’s no good. That’s two days from now."

  "Well, that’s the way it’s got to be. We can't arrange it any sooner."

  "What...? Chris was speaking with someone else. A woman, Charlie decided, as he overheard the feminine tones of her voice. "No..." he heard Chris protest and then she was speaking to him.

  "Listen you monster!" She yelled through the phone lines. "I’m a friend of Chris' and I have heard all about you and your kind. You get his mother out here right away."

  "I think possibly you have me confused with the true demon. Has Chris told you about his misadventures during the last few weeks?"

  "Yes, he has! And it is all because of you and that thing you brought down from Canada,"

  "I’m afraid I have very little to do with it." Charlie responded benignly. "But, I agree, Chris has some peculiar abilities which have got him into terrible trouble."

  "It didn't help that you guys stole his mother away from him when he most needed her."

  "Again, young lady...I’m sorry, I don't know your name..."

  "And you won't!" She fired back.

  "Well, Chris' mother was not stolen away, to use your words, she was rescued. Flown back to Detroit to assist us in understanding Chris' dangerous and unpredictable behaviour."