And The Children Shall Lead

by Michael J. Bowler

  †††

  January was the month Jenny’s adoption of the boys became final, a cause for celebration, but it was also the month former mayor Villagrana’s trial on corruption and conspiracy to commit murder charges began, a source of trepidation for Lance. Villagrana’s attorney contacted Lance through Sam, and Lance agreed to testify about what Mr. R. had said regarding the mayor when he’d held Lance and Jack hostage.

  Lance hadn’t seen the former mayor for almost a year, he realized, as he paced back and forth nervously in the hall outside a courtroom in the Criminal Courts Building one morning near the end of January. As always, Ricky, Dakota, and Kai joined him, as well as Sergeant Ryan, Justin and Darnell. The tall boy with the basketball player frame and fancy cornrows had become Justin’s number one go-to guy and usually accompanied the New Camelot Security Chief whenever he was needed.

  Having seen within Villagrana’s eyes the previous year a man changed by what had happened, a man repentant of his sins, Lance didn’t mind telling what little he knew about the man’s relationship with R. But just thinking back to his abduction brought to his mind, front and center, images and memories of Jack, the boy who’d sacrificed his life so that he could live.

  Just then, the doors opened and the bailiff called him inside.

  Stepping into that Superior Courtroom also brought back horrific memories of his own incarceration, and he had to quash the panic threatening to overwhelm him.

  Lance walked up the center aisle, dressed in a fancy tunic and pants, every inch King Arthur’s son, ignoring the whispers of surprise from the gallery. Obviously, he was a witness no one expected. After being sworn in, he sat in the little box beside the judge’s bench and proceeded to answer the defense attorney’s questions.

  All he knew for certain was what Mr. R. had said in the limo that night about Villagrana being “A useful idiot.” Under further questioning, Lance admitted he didn’t know what that term meant and didn’t know why Mr. R. had used it. When asked if he thought the former mayor knew about his kidnapping, Lance looked over at the man seated at a table remarkably similar to the one he, himself, had sat at last summer.

  Villagrana looked old, Lance thought, his hair graying, his cheeks more sallow. And yet those eyes, gazing up at him from the table exuded peace and hope, just as they had when the man had visited him at New Camelot.

  “No,” he answered finally. “I don’t think he had anything to do with the kidnapping.”

  When prodded, he explained his own tangled relationship with Mr. R. and how the man had always wanted revenge for being disrespected. Without mentioning Justin, he told how the man had sent thugs to kill him the night he first met Arthur. The district attorney cross-examined Lance, but he stuck to the same story and admitted he didn’t know anything for sure. Then he was excused.

  As he stepped down from the witness box to exit the courtroom, he saw Villagrana offer him a smile of gratitude. He nodded and returned to his family in the hallway.

  The trial ended two weeks later with Villagrana found guilty on corruption and bribery charges, but not guilty on conspiracy to commit murder. According to Helen, who spoke with Lance after the verdict, it was his testimony that had convinced the jury of the mayor’s innocence. He would do prison time, Helen told Lance, the talk being something on the order of fourteen years, but he’d be out in less with good behavior. Lance felt a sense of peace that this tragic part of his life was over and he could focus on the present, and the future.

  †††

  The other trial upcoming in April would be for Richard Thornton on child rape charges, and Lance’s testimony would be required. As Chief Murphy had previously hinted to Lance, the statute of limitations had run out on prosecuting Richard for raping him, but there had been two other victims who’d come forth to accuse the man, and Lance’s testimony would be necessary to demonstrate a long-standing pattern of criminal behavior.

  Lance dreaded that moment. Of all his horrific past experiences, those three years retained the greatest hold on him and remained the chief cause of his ‘emo’ behaviors. He wanted to put it behind him. He wanted to move on, have a full life with Ricky, without freaking out. But Richard and what he’d done inevitably stood in his way. Even the current threat against him didn’t cause as much anxiety as facing that man in court.

  Still, he wanted to see the monster put in prison where he could never hurt kids again. And he knew he’d have Ricky and the family there supporting him. However, he also knew he needed to face Richard, stare the man down, and quash his childhood fears once and for all. That was the moment he dreaded most of all because he didn’t honestly know if he was strong enough.

  Fortunately, Mr. D.’s trial did not require Lance’s involvement, as the man had never paid him to have sex. There were other boys the LAPD had unearthed to testify against him, and Lance hoped he, too, would spend the rest of his days in prison.

  Lance still hadn’t eliminated Mr. D. as a suspect in the attacks on him, since the man clearly hated him and had tried his hardest to send him to prison. Still, when Lance gave the matter more thought, the attack on Arthur didn’t fit with Mr. D.’s profile. He also didn’t think Mr. D. smart enough to cover his tracks so well. In any case, that was one man Lance was happy he’d never see again.

  †††

  Also, in January, all prosecution of juveniles as adults ceased, and those with cases still pending were returned to juvenile court. Lance had been in regular contact with Father Mike, who informed him that The Compound, where Lance had been held while awaiting trial, still housed the same kids, but they were no longer shackled or handcuffed, and the Sheriff’s Department had no more jurisdiction over them. Likely, Father Mike had said, The Compound would go back to housing those kids headed to juvenile camps or even mental health facilities, depending on their needs.

  Lance could see that impish grin in his mind’s eye as the priest thanked him once again for giving these kids a second chance. He assured him that all who had been there when Lance was incarcerated sent their gratitude and a “What’s up?”

  “Even,” he said with a chuckle, “Antonio, the kid from W-1 who I understand called you some inappropriate names in school.”

  Lance almost laughed. He’d never even known the kid’s name. “Tell them I said what’s up right back, and when they get out to come on over and join up.”

  “I will, mijo,” Father Mike replied warmly. “Keep doing what you’re doing out there––you’re a warrior of light, remember.”

  Lance felt warmth engulf him. “I know. Thanks, Father Mike. Come over any time you want.”

  “I will. Good-bye, reverend.”

  After that conversation, the enormity of what the Round Table had accomplished hit home for him. No more kids in shackles. No more cages. Kids were kids again, and had to be treated as such. At least in California. The realization strengthened his resolve to get their CBOR through Congress so all kids in the country could keep their childhood, too.

  †††

  To that end, he had every available knight online as often as possible, chatting up kids in all fifty states, securing their input and support. He especially targeted the children of representatives and senators. What better way to get to the parents than through the kids? If it worked in California, it could work nationwide.

  He and Ricky walked the rows of computers, commenting on this question or advising a response to that remark. Dakota and Kai were given the email addresses (uncovered by Techie) of any tribal council across the fifty states that had Internet access. Their job was to upload the CBOR, ask for feedback, and request their support in rallying Congress people from their states to the cause (not to mention the children of those Congress people.)

  February and most of March whizzed by in this fashion, with Lance and Ricky overseeing an Internet outreach of tsunami proportions, working to rally as many kids as possible. On their Facebook page, those whose parents were U.S. representatives or senators were asked to privat
ely provide contact information so Lance could personally get in touch with them.

  As with the proposition, both Lance and Ricky recorded videos to post on FB and YouTube explaining the need for the CBOR and how important it was for parents, as well as children, because it would protect good parents from having their children taken away, or bullied by the school system or other government entities.

  Likewise, they did live chats during which kids or adults could send in questions right on the spot and the boys would answer them. Lance always felt creeped out watching the playback later because his mouth was never in sync with the words coming out, reminding him of those old Japanese Godzilla movies he’d seen on TV.

  Karen, Sir John’s mother and a “second mom” to Lance and Ricky, dropped by often to work with the kids in the Computer Lab. She was working in her home community of Santa Monica to drum up adult support and wanted to contribute as much time as she could spare for the cause. Mostly, that meant weekends and, she confessed freely, her main reason for coming to New Camelot was to see her “other sons,” as she called the boys.

  Much as they didn’t like politics, Lance and Ricky immersed themselves in most of the political chat shows because the topic of debate was frequently the CBOR. As Lance had noted before, it was always “left” versus “right” with almost no one coming down in the middle. And both sides would contradict themselves and never admit it.

  He noted that the leftists argued that humans were inherently good, but still needed big government controlling them to keep society more humane and make everyone more equal. The right argued that humans were fallen, that they were inherently self-centered and needed restraints put on them in the form of laws, but that they should have more freedom of individual choice without big government trying to force everyone to be the same. In Lance’s experience, he’d side with the self-centered notion, with the good people keeping the selfish part of their nature under control. So those who argued that children were people and thus self-centered and needed parental controls seemed to forget that parents were self-centered, too. Problem was, they were self-centered and had power over their kids. The other side seemed to say that only people in government could be trusted to know what was best for kids, much more than individual parents.

  It made Lance and Ricky’s heads swim with the twisted foolishness of it all. In their young lives, they’d seen enough selfishness from both parents and government to last a lifetime. That’s why they continued to use the argument that children, just like adults, required some basic protections under the law, protections both from wayward parents and wayward government.

  Because of the death threats, the boys had to appear by live feed from New Camelot on Fox, CNN, and MSNBC, debating people from the right and the left on the merits of their amendments and the inherent need for them. Always, no matter what argument was launched against them, the boys returned to the notion that everyone, no matter their age, was an individual who deserved basic civil rights to protect them from those who chose to abuse their power, whether that be parents or government. As living survivors of both those abusive groups, Lance and Ricky could always point to themselves as proof.

  Of course, many “experts” argued that Lance and Ricky were “extreme examples” and not the norm. The boys would just smile grimly and read off some of the messages and comments they’d received from kids all over the country. Some of these kids had more horrific stories to tell than they did. The experts would huff and puff and still claim “Anecdotal evidence is not evidence,” but the boys knew their goal wasn’t to convince these hard heads, but rather the viewers who might be watching.

  They were grateful that the CBOR had stirred up such a massive debate throughout the country on what basic human rights people ought to have and at what age. It was a start, they knew, but eventually they needed to secure real commitments from real politicians, or their CBOR would be dead on arrival.

  Thus far, they’d gotten polite communications from a few Congress people that their CBOR was “An interesting idea that needed further exploration.” Always, the messages were non-committal, couched in fancy, but meaningless words. Most of these people, Lance clearly understood, weren’t taking him or the CBOR seriously. That was an attitude he determined to change.

  Reyna, in her usual blustery, take-charge manner, insisted that Lance needed to go to Washington D.C. and start stumping for his bill, and she would accompany him, of course. So would Este, Dakota and Kai.

  “After all,” she reminded him one afternoon in late March, “the president invited you to the White House for dinner, remember?”

  Lance glanced at Ricky and the two burst out laughing. Kai joined in, though Dakota’s deadpan expression clearly indicated he was missing the joke. It was true the president had invited him, shortly after he’d become The Boy Who Came Back, but he’d felt at the time that the invite was merely political posturing for the cameras.

  “Reyna, can you see us in the White House?” Lance chortled, Ricky giggling foolishly by his side. “We got three Two-Spirits, two Indians, one rich girl and an ex-gang member. They’ll be locking down the furniture.”

  Reyna laughed, obviously seeing the irony of it all. “I don’t care,” she insisted. “He invited you and I’m gonna make him live up to his word. I’m also going try to get some appointments with congress people, too, so we can drive them crazy until they agree to support you.” She grinned and that sparked a new fit of laughter from the boys.

  “Hey, go for it, Reyna,” Lance said, clearly not believing she could pull it off. “But from what I read, the president doesn’t have anything to do with amendments.”

  She smiled knowingly. “That’s correct, baby boy, but a lot of those congress people will listen to him, so if we get him on our side, that’s a big deal.”

  Lance stopped laughing. She was right. It was an angle he hadn’t thought of. “See, Ricky, our big sister comes up with a good idea once in awhile.”

  Reyna’s smile faltered and her expression put Dakota’s glower to shame.

  “Just kidding, sis,” Lance said quickly and flashed that beautiful smile he knew she loved. It worked. She grinned and left to work her own in-your-face kind of magic.

  Lance and Ricky looked at Kai and Dakota. The Indians appeared skeptical. Lance shrugged. “Hey, if anyone can strong-arm the president, it’s Reyna.”

  Kai laughed. Dakota stared.

  †††

  Since Villagrana’s trial, Arthur and his family had not ventured forth from New Camelot except to attend mass on Sundays, and even that was done under heavy guard. Lance felt he needed that weekly connection to God, and Ricky agreed. At first, the pastor and parishioners were wary of the LAPD officers standing in the back of the church, but after a few weeks no one felt uncomfortable anymore. Many a parishioner greeted them warmly as they entered or exited the church, and Arthur’s family was always welcomed. Lance got the youth group involved in his campaign, and often communicated with its members via social media about what they could do on their own.

  Sergeants Ryan and Gibson continued living at the hotel, and Justin and Darnell kept the nightly patrols running smoothly. The two jerky FBI agents, who always stared at Lance and Ricky like they expected them to start performing show tunes, returned a couple of times with tech experts, but none could trace the source of the broadcast that had burst into the New Camelot system and bypassed the firewalls Techie had put in place.

  Even more than before, Lance and Ricky were joined at the hip. Only when they showered, slept, or used the toilet would they be out of each other’s sight. Ricky’s bed had been moved across his room so that it rested next to the connecting door just as Lance’s did. That way, with the connecting door always open, even at night each could hear the other’s breathing in the next room, and that gave them comfort.

  Dakota and Kai, per their commitment as bodyguards, traded off shifts during each night standing guard outside in the hallway between Lance and Ricky’s bedroom doors. Eve
n with all the patrols at every window and entrance to the hotel, the Indians felt they needed to guard the hallway doors, too.

  †††

  April blew in all too quickly with scattered showers, lots of blooming flowers and green trees, and Richard’s trial. Thankfully, since Lance was to be a witness, he wasn’t allowed to attend the proceedings until the day of his testimony, for which he was grateful. To hear the other boys, who he understood to be a few years younger than him, detail what Richard had done to them would’ve sent Lance into freak-out mode big time. He knew he’d have the family there with him, but his heart beat with frenetic palpitations whenever he conjured the moment he’d have to sit in the witness box and confront the man who’d stolen his childhood and nearly ruined his life.

  Ricky, too, had been subpoenaed by the district attorney because he’d told the media the previous year about Richard finding him on the street and raping him for money. So the boys sat for hours each night discussing the fears they harbored about confronting this man. Ricky had already had his virginity stolen by another man when he was living on the streets, but Richard had been abusive and rough and the memory of that rape still gave him nightmares.

  The date finally arrived and the family made its way downtown to the Criminal Courts Building, with Ryan, Gibson and several LAPD cruisers for protection. Because they were sworn Knights of the Round Table, Kai and Dakota were allowed to carry their bows and arrows most places, but not into the Criminal Courts Building. Having to leave their weapons in the car irked both, but Kai laughed as always and squeezed Dakota’s upper arm.

  “You still got these guns, Sir Cloudy Boy,” he said with an admiring grin.

  Watching them as they moved from the parking lot to the entrance, Lance half expected Dakota to shrug his arm away and glower at the other boy. But for once the Lakota youth did neither. He merely gazed at Kai with almost a sense of wonder, as though he’d never considered that Kai might admire him in any way.

  Nerves already frayed, Lance filed that look away into the soul-whisperer part of his brain for future reference, and focused on the grim task before him as they waited in line to enter the building.