iBoy

by Кевин Брукс

  And, whatever I did, did I really think it would actually make any difference? Whatever I did to Ellman, would it make other people stop doing terrible things?

  Of course it wouldn't.

  And besides all that, I was sick of everything because I just wanted to be normal again. I wanted to be a normal kid, doing normal things — going to school, worrying about spots, being happy or miserable or crazy about things that don't really matter. I didn't want to be differ­ent. I didn't want to know everything. I didn't want to have a mutant brain that was constantly evolving, constantly soaking up more and more information, constantly giving me a growing sense of wisdom ...

  I mean ... wisdom?

  I was sixteen years old — what did I want with wisdom ?

  I just wanted to be normal.

  And I wanted to be normal with Lucy too. I wanted to be Tom Harvey with her. Not iBoy, just Tom. I wanted her to be as excited by the real me as she was by the fake me who talked to her on MySpace. I wanted her to like me for what I was. I wanted us to be stupid and funny and embarrassed together. I wanted her to be how she used to be, and me to be how I used to be. I wanted us to be us.

  But, like everything else, it wasn't going to happen, was it?

  I wasn't just Tom any more. I wasn't how I used to be.

  And neither was Lucy. hey iBoy — did you see the story in the gazette? you're famous! a superherosuperstar! and i know you! but don't worry, your secret's safe with me. aGirl xxxxxx iBoy didn't reply.

  I wouldn't let him.

  I was Tom ...

  I was losing my mind.

  To take my lost mind off everything for a while, I stopped thinking consciously about things and concentrated instead on letting my iBrain check the facts — the straight­forward, no-nonsense, on-or-off facts — about what I'd been doing over the last ten days ...

  What iBoy had been doing.

  What we'd been doing.

  What we'd done.

  Who we'd done it to ...

  Where they were now.

  In what condition ...

  And so on.

  It was as pointless as everything else, but I went ahead and did it anyway. And this, in short, was what I came up with:

  • In the last seven days, reported crime on the Crow Lane Estate had fallen by 67%.

  • Yusef Hashim had been arrested for possession of an unlicensed firearm and was currently out on bail.

  • Nathan Craig was in hospital, recovering from a ruptured spleen and three broken ribs.

  • Carl Patrick had been arrested and was currently in police custody for stabbing Jayden Carroll.

  • Jayden Carroll had been discharged from hospital after undergoing minor surgery on his stomach.

  • DeWayne Firman had disappeared following the publication of grossly insulting comments about Howard Ellman on his Facebook page.

  • Paul Adebajo had been arrested for possession of, and intent to supply, Class A drugs.

  • Big and Little Jones were under investigation by the Counter Terrorist Unit after a video on YouTube appeared to show them planning a suicide bombing.

  • Troy O'Neil, Jermaine Adebajo, and the fat Korean guy (whose name was Sim Dong-ni, or just Dong to his friends) were being held in police custody await­ing trial for various offences, including possession of Class A drugs, intent to supply, and possession of unlicensed firearms.

  And so on, and so on, and so on ...

  I'd done a lot.

  We'd done a lot.

  But had we really achieved anything?

  No.

  Had we turned Hell into Paradise?

  No.

  Had we found Howard Ellman?

  No.

  Had we made Lucy Walker feel any better? Perhaps...

  Had I started to think that she was falling in love with iBoy ...?

  Shit.

  10100

  ... wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are a better fate than wisdom ...

  E. E. Cummings "since feeling is first" (1926)

  At 19:45:37 that evening, freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes, I was standing outside Lucy's door, with my heart beating hard, hoping that everything was going to be perfect.

  I'd been busy all afternoon.

  I'd got everything ready.

  And now all I had to do was do it. I took a deep breath ...

  Slowly let it out.

  Then reached up and rang the bell.

  I was planning on being kind of cool when Lucy answered the door. You know, like it was no big deal, I was just calling round ... just wondering if, by any chance, you'd be interested in ... blah blah blah ...

  It didn't happen that way, of course.

  Instead, when she opened the door and said, "Hey, stranger," and I opened my mouth to say, "Hi," something got caught in my throat and I started coughing and retch­ing like a lunatic. By the time I finally managed to get some air into my lungs, my face was bright red and I was dripping sweat all over the place.

  Very cool.

  "Are you OK?" Lucy asked me.

  "Yeah — hack! — yeah ... I'm all right, thanks. Just..." I coughed again — hyack! "Just a bit of a cough, you know ..."

  Lucy smiled. "You want to stop smoking your gran's cigars."

  I grinned at her. "Yeah ..."

  She stepped back, opening the door to let me in.

  "Uh, yeah ..." I muttered, suddenly unsure how to say what I wanted to say (even though I'd been practising all afternoon). "Listen, Luce," I said. "I was wondering if you'd like to ... well, you know ... I just thought we might..."

  "Are you coming in or not?" she said.

  "Well, the thing is ..."

  "What, Tom?" She frowned at me. "What's going on?"

  "Nothing ..." I took another deep breath, trying to calm myself down. Just take it easy, I told myself. Stay calm. Just open your mouth and say it. And that's what I did. I looked at Lucy, opened my mouth and said, "Do you fancy a picnic?"

  She stared at me. "A what?"

  "You won't have to go anywhere," I told her. "Well, you'll have to go somewhere ... but we won't have to leave the tower."

  She shook her head. "I don't get it..."

  "I know ... I mean, I know it sounds kind of strange, but it'll be all right. Honestly ... trust me. You'll be perfectly safe."

  "But where ...?"

  "I can't tell you, can I? It's a surprise."

  She shook her head again. "A picnic?"

  I smiled at her. "Yeah ... sandwiches, crisps, Coke ..."

  "I don't know, Tom," she said anxiously. "I mean, it's a really nice thought and everything, and it's not that I don't want to be with you ... but, you know ... I just ... I just don't think I'm ready yet."

  "Ready for what?" I asked gently.

  "Anything ... going out, being with people ..."

  "Yeah, but you won't be going out," I assured her. "And the only people you'll be with is me. I promise. There won't be anyone else near us. I guarantee it."

  "I don't see how you can."

  "Trust me, Luce."

  She looked down at the floor, her face worried, her eyes sad ... and for a moment I seriously started to doubt myself. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all. Maybe I was just being selfish, thoughtless, uncaring ...

  But then Lucy said, very quietly, "I won't have to leave the tower?"

  "No."

  "And I definitely won't see anyone else?"

  "Guaranteed."

  She slowly looked up at me. "What kind of sand­wiches?"

  Lucy's mum was out at work, but Ben was in, so Lucy told him that she was going out with me for a while, and that she wouldn't be long. She put on a coat and one of those knitted woollen hats with ear flaps, and then — after I'd checked to make sure that the corridor was empty — I started leading her along to the stairwell.

  "All right?" I asked her.

  She nodded hesitantly. "Yeah ... I'm just a bit ... I don't know ... t
his is the first time I've been out since it happened ..."

  "I know."

  She smiled at me, anxiety showing in her eyes. "Where are we going?"

  I smiled back. "Follow me."

  I led her through the stairwell door and up the two flights of steps to the padlocked iron gate. I'd already been up earlier and unlocked it, so I just pushed it open, guided Lucy through to the steel-reinforced door, and locked the iron gate behind us. As I reached up to the keypad on the wall, tapped in the security code, and opened the door, Lucy gave me a puzzled look.

  "Don't ask," I said to her. "This way."

  I ushered her into the little room, closing the reinforced door after us, and went over to the ladder on the wall. Again, I'd already been up and unlocked the hatchway, so all we had to do now was climb the ladder and we'd be out on the roof.

  I looked at Lucy. "Still OK?"

  "Yeah, I think so ..."

  "Are you all right with ladders?"

  She looked up at the hatchway. "Does that go where I think it goes?"

  "You'll soon find out. Do you want me to go first?"

  "OK."

  I climbed the ladder, pushed open the hatchway and stepped out onto the roof, then I reached back down to help Lucy up.

  "All right?" I said to her.

  "Yeah ..."

  "I really like your hat, by the way."

  She grinned at me. "Do you always do this when you're trying to impress a girl? Give her a ladder to climb, then compliment her on her choice of hat?"

  "It usually works for me."

  As she reached the top of the ladder, I took her hand and helped her up through the hatchway onto the roof.

  "Wow," she said quietly, getting to her feet and looking around. "This is amazing. You can see for ever ... I mean, I know I've seen it all before, but..."

  "It feels different up here, doesn't it?"

  "Yeah ..." She looked at me. "You're full of surprises, Tom Harvey."

  "I do my best," I said.

  She smiled at me.

  "Are you hungry?" I asked.

  "Why? Is there a restaurant up here or something?"

  "It's a picnic, remember? I invited you to a picnic." I pointed towards the middle of the roof. "See?"

  She gazed over at where I was pointing, and when she saw what was there, her eyes lit up and her face broke into the most wonderful shining smile. "Oh, Tom," she cried. "That's fantastic ... it's so beautiful." She turned to me, still smiling like a child on Christmas morning. "Did you do all that for me?"

  I looked over at the picnic table that I'd set up in the middle of the roof, and although it was a pretty ramshackle affair — an old fold-away table and chairs I'd found in the spare room, a red and white tablecloth, a candle on a saucer, some paper cups and plates, sandwiches, crisps, a big bottle of Coke, half a packet of chocolate digestives and the remains of a fruit cake that Gram had made the week before — I had to admit that Lucy was right, it really did have a certain kind of raggedy beauty to it.

  "Yeah," I said, turning back to Lucy. "Yeah ... I did it for you." I could feel myself blushing slightly now, but I didn't mind. "Do you really like it?"

  She put her hand on my shoulder, leaned in towards me, and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "I adore it," she said, looking into my eyes. "Really ... I absolutely love it. Thanks, Tom."

  She kissed me again, another quick peck on the cheek, and then we just stood there for a while ... just the two of us, high above the rest of the world, alone together in the dying light of a crimson sunset...

  It was everything I'd ever wished for.

  And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

  It was just the two of us ... just Lucy and me.

  Just like it used to be.

  Lucy smiled and said, "Shall we eat?"

  I bowed my head. "If Madam so wishes. Table for two, is it?"

  "Please."

  "Follow me, m'lady."

  I led her over to the picnic table and held out the chair for her to sit down.

  "Thank you, I'm sure," she said.

  "You're very welcome."

  I sat down and reached for the bottle of Coke. "Coca-Cola?"

  "Don't mind if I do."

  I poured a small amount into a paper cup and offered it to her to taste. She took the cup, sniffed the Coke, rolled it around in the cup for a while, then took a tiny sip.

  "Mmm ..." she said, swallowing. "Delightful, thank you."

  She held out her cup and I filled it up. I poured myself a cup, then offered her the plate of sandwiches. "There's cheese," I explained. "Or ... cheese spread. Or, if you'd prefer, there's the sandwich of the day."

  Lucy grinned. "And what might that be?"

  "Cheese."

  She laughed and took a couple of sandwiches. "Did you make these yourself?"

  I nodded. "Cheese is my speciality. It was also the only thing left in the fridge."

  I opened a packet of crisps for her.

  "Cheese and onion?" she said.

  "Yep."

  "Excellent."

  For the next few minutes, we just ate. It was really nice ... just sitting there in the growing darkness, eating and drinking, not having to say anything, both of us unable to wipe the stupid smiles off our faces. The night was getting a little colder now, with a chilly breeze drift­ing across the roof, but we both had our coats on, and I don't think either of us were really bothered.

  After a while, Lucy took a rest from chewing and said to me, "So ... what have you been doing recently? I haven't seen you for a while."

  "Yeah, I know ... I'm sorry, I kept meaning to come round, but stuff just kept getting in the way."

  "Stuff?"

  I touched my head and shrugged, kind of ambiguously ... which I knew was a pretty crappy thing to do. But I just didn't know what to say, and I didn't want to lie to her ... and, in a way, it was the stuff in my head that had got in the way of me going round to see her.

  "Right..." Lucy said, nodding uncertainly at me and slowly putting a crisp in her mouth. "Right... I see."

  She chewed quietly on the crisp for a while ... which baffled me. I mean, how can anyone chew quietly on a crisp? And then she looked at me and said softly, "It's really quiet up here, isn't it?"

  "Yeah," I agreed. "The whole estate seems pretty quiet at the moment."

  She nodded, and for a moment or two she was silent again, concentrating on getting the last few crisp crumbs out of the packet. She licked her finger and ran it round the inside of the packet, sucked the bits off her finger, then upended the packet into her mouth.

  "Finished?" I asked her, smiling.

  She grinned. "I don't like wasting any."

  I watched her as she twisted the empty crisp packet into a bow and placed it under the Coke bottle to stop the breeze blowing it away. She stared at the table top for a few seconds, thinking about something, then she looked up at me.

  "Can you keep a secret?" she said.

  "Yeah ..."

  "Well... you know all this stuff that's been going on round the estate, all the arrests and everything?"

  "Yeah."

  "And you know there's all kinds of rumours going round that there's some kind of vigilante out there ... some guy in a costume?"

  "Yeah."

  She looked at me. "Well ... I think it's that kid I told you about, the one who calls himself iBoy. Remember?"

  "The one who tried to throw Eugene O'Neil out of the window?"

  "Yeah ..."

  "The MySpace guy?"

  "Yeah. I think it's him."

  "Who?"

  "The vigilante," she said impatiently. "The one who's been doing all this stuff round the estate. I think it's iBoy."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah ... I mean, we talk to each other quite often on MySpace, and although he hasn't actually admitted it's him, he hasn't denied it either."

  "So what are you trying to say? You think this iBoy kid is some kind of superhero or something?"

  "No
, of course not. But he definitely exists. I saw him, remember. I was there when he sorted out O'Neil and the others ..." She shook her head in disbelief at the memory. "He zapped them, Tom. I mean he really zapped them. And he was wearing some kind of mask ... honestly."

  "I believe you." I cut a couple of slices of fruit cake, passed one to Lucy, and started eating the other one myself. "What do you think he is then?"

  "I don't know —"

  "And why do you think he's doing it? I mean, do you think he's doing it for you, like he's some kind of guard­ian angel or something?"

  She was about to bite into the fruit cake, but she paused in mid-chomp, lowering the cake and looking intensely at me. "What?"

  "What?" I echoed. "What did I say?"

  Her voice was quiet. "Why would you think he'd be doing anything for me?"

  "Well ... you know ... I mean, he went after O'Neil and Firman and Craig, didn't he?"

  "So?"

  I suddenly realized that I wasn't supposed to know who'd raped Lucy, or who'd been there when it had happened. She hadn't told me. I looked at her, trying to hide the hesitation in my mind, "I just meant, you know ... he helped you when O'Neil and the others were outside your flat. iBoy, I mean. He was helping you, wasn't he?"

  "Yeah, but —"

  "Well, that's all I meant. He was helping you, and he got in touch with you on MySpace ... so, you know ... maybe it's possible that he's doing some of these things for you."

  Lucy's eyes were fixed steadily on mine. "Right. . . but how would he know?"

  "Know what?"

  "How would he know who to go after? I mean, I know the only information I'm getting about any of this is what Ben tells me, but it seems like a lot of the people who were there when it happened ... you know, when me and Ben were ... when I was ... well, you know what I mean." She swallowed hard, trying not to cry. "A lot of those kids who were there ... well, they're the ones who've been getting beaten up or arrested or whatever."

  "So maybe this iBoy really is your guardian angel?" I suggested.