Nary, Nary, Quite Contrary

by David J. Wighton

  "I didn't have parents. I had a mom."

  "What name did your mom give you?"

  "Arnold," Basher said.

  "Nice name," Lucas said. "Does your mom know how you make your money?"

  "She's dead."

  "I'm sorry. How long ago did she die?"

  "I don't know. I know I was 10."

  "Do you mind me asking these questions?"

  Basher shrugged. "You aren't asking me questions that I'm not allowed to answer, so it's alright I guess."

  "Did anybody ever tell you how to treat a guest?"

  "No. I've never had one."

  Lucas wandered into the kitchen. "You might offer me a drink of something and you could have one too. We could sit down and drink them together." He opened the fridge. "Whoa. You really like puddings and soda, don't you. Why'd you buy all of this?"

  "I didn't."

  "Who did?"

  "I don't know. Every Monday morning the fridge gets filled."

  Lucas opened the freezer compartment. "Six different types of ice cream. My family likes ice cream too. It's one of my favorite desserts."

  Basher didn't bite on the hint.

  "Do this fridge and freezer ever get filled with something you don't like?"

  "No."

  "So these are your favorite foods? Puddings, soda, and ice cream?"

  "Yah."

  "One of my favorite drinks is hot chocolate. That's why my favorite ice cream is chocolate. You have a carton of chocolate ice cream in your freezer."

  "Yah."

  Again, no bite on the hint.

  "Why don't I dish up some chocolate ice cream and we can talk?"

  "OK."

  "How many scoops would you like?"

  "I always have five."

  Lucas filled one bowl with three scoops of ice cream and another with five scoops. The bowls were dark blue, made of some sort of ceramic, and were stored neatly in a cupboard over a counter that had shiny wood. The kitchen looked impressive and was immaculate to boot. "Do you wash your own dishes, Basher?"

  "No."

  "Who does?"

  "I dunno. Somebody comes in when I'm having breakfast and cleans the kitchen, bathroom, and my bedroom."

  "Every day?" Lucas came out of the kitchen and handed Basher the five scooper bowl with a spoon.

  "Yah. I have breakfast every day, don't I?"

  "Where do you usually sit when you eat?"

  "In front of the display wall."

  The display wall was exactly that. An entire wall that was almost filled by an electronic display unit. Basher sat down in the recliner chair opposite the wall. It was the only chair in the living room. Lucas brought a chair from the kitchen table into the living room and sat down next to Basher who was cramming an entire large scoop of ice cream into his mouth.

  After Basher was finished with the first scoop and was fishing around with his spoon trying to collect the next scoop, Lucas asked. "Do you ever get bad headaches when you eat ice cream."

  "Yeah, all the time."

  "Did you ever figure out why you get those headaches?"

  "Mmphhh."

  "I'll tell you why you get headaches when you've finished swallowing."

  # # # # # # # #

  While Basher was trying out what eating ice cream in small amounts would be like, Lucas continued to probe. He learned that Basher didn't know how old he was. He didn't know how his mom had died. After her death, he had lived in a foster home until they kicked him out when he was still growing. He had gone to school but didn't like it except for recess and lunch. That, he had enjoyed.

  Basher had his breakfast, lunch, and dinner at restaurants. Some of those restaurants belonged to his own clients while others were clients of other insurance collectors. He never paid for a meal. His teacher would come by Friday night, open all the envelopes that Basher had collected from his clients, count the money, and then give Basher his weekly salary. Basher could spend that money however he wanted. He bought candy, comic books, and electronic games. He never bought clothes because all of his clothes were kept clean and ironed. New clothes would appear in his closet if any got too small.

  "Do you ever count the money your teacher gives you?" Lucas asked.

  "Nah. He'd never cheat me."

  "You ever count your change when you buy something?"

  "Nah. Nobody would ever cheat me."

  "Can you count, Basher?"

  "Sure."

  "Can you count backwards?"

  "No. Why would I want to do that?"

  # # # # # # # #

  They were in the kitchen. Basher was still ice-cream deficient, so he had filled a big wide-rimmed glass with soda up to the top and was preparing to add a scoop of strawberry ice cream.

  "You know that the soda will spill out of the glass as soon as you put in the ice cream, right?" Lucas asked.

  "Yeah, it always does."

  "Did you ever think that it might not be a good idea to fill the glass right up to the rim with soda?"

  "But I like soda."

  "You ever think of putting the glass in the sink so that the soda won't spill on the floor?"

  "Nah. It gets cleaned up."

  "Would you like to see a different way of making a float? One that won't make your hands and floor so sticky?"

  "OK."

  Lucas put a small scoop of ice cream in the bottom of a glass, added a little bit of soda, paused, added some more, paused, and added some more. "Don't try to fill the glass right to the top."

  "Huh," Basher said in amazement. Then he had to test how it tasted.

  "If you don't try to drink the float all at one go, it probably won't spill all over your belly."

  "Why would I care if it spills? There's always more soda."

  # # # # # # # #

  "You said that there are some questions that I could ask and you wouldn't be allowed to answer, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "Just so that I don't accidentally ask you those questions, would you like to tell me what things I shouldn't ask you?"

  "Nothing about my dad – like his name, or where he works, or where he lives."

  "Good to know. I thought you said that you didn't have a dad."

  "My dad says that he's not my dad. He says that he was just my mom's friend."

  "Why do you think he's your dad then?"

  "Because the man that he sends around to teach me things says that he's my dad."

  "How long has your dad been sending you a teacher?"

  "Ever since my mom died."

  "You were going to school back then. What did your dad's teacher teach you that you didn't learn in school?"

  "How to make littler kids to do things that they didn't want to."

  "Like?"

  "Give me their chocolate bars. Give me their lunch money."

  "How did you convince little kids to give you those things?"

  "Hit them where it wouldn't show. But I had to do that when nobody was looking."

  "And if they were bigger than you?"

  "No kid was ever bigger than me."

  "What if they were a better fighter?"

  "Hit them from behind and hurt them a lot."

  "You started learning this in elementary school?"

  "Yah. Lunch hour. Recess. I told you I liked that part of school."

  "And when you were older, your dad's teacher showed you how to use the bat."

  "Yeah. How'd you know that?"

  # # # # # # # #

  Basher was burping contentedly while he played an electronic game on the giant screen, having followed the five scoops of ice cream with an ice cream float and four cups of pudding. Lucas noticed that he was good at the game even when he was hyper-energized.

  "You play this one a lot?"

  "Yah. I only have to work one day a week, so I have lots of time to learn. This is one of the teaching bots that I've had for a long time."

  "You like the games that get blood and guts all over the place, don't you?" />
  "Yah. The big guy in this bot uses his fists, so I like that the best cause I'm learning to use my fists."

  "Did your teacher give you some games where the fighters use knives or guns?"

  "Yeah. He gave me those this year. How'd you know that?"

  "Did your teacher say something to you about learning how to use the knives and guns for work when you're older?"

  "Yeah. How'd you know that? First I have to play the new games a lot so that I'll know what to do."

  # # # # # # # #

  Lucas was wandering around the apartment while Basher was occupied with his game. He had made it into the bathroom. "Basher, do you have any soap in here?"

  "In the cupboard under the sink."

  Lucas found a dozen unopened bars. There were no signs of soap residue on the top of the sink or anywhere in the shower. There was no sign of any shampoo in the cupboard either. "Do you ever wash your face with soap or take a shower and wash your hair with shampoo?"

  "I don't stink so I don't need to."

  Lucas went into the next room. Bedroom. Big bed, closet full of clothes, but nothing of a personal nature in view except for what was on the nightstand. "Basher, who's in this picture?"

  "Don't touch that."

  "I'm not touching it. Can I look at it?"

  "OK, but don't touch it."

  "She looks nice."

  "My mom."

  "What was her name?"

  "I'm not allowed to tell you her real name. You can't ask that."

  "OK, I won't. Did she have another name?"

  "Sparkle."

  "She was a dancer, right?"

  "Yah. How'd you know that?"

  "From her costume. I've seen dancers like her. How'd she choose that name?"

  "From the sparkles that she had on her costume. You can see them if you look close."

  "The sparkles are right in the middle of the three tiny bits of cloth that she's wearing?"

  "Yah."

  "And your dad was her friend?"

  "Yah. Until she had me."

  "I'm not asking you for your mother's real name, but is there anything else that you could tell me about her? I'd like to understand more about you and your mom."

  "My teacher said that she was my dad's niece. Does that help?"

  "Yes. That explains a lot."

  Back to the Table of Contents

  Chapter 23

  Two days after Lucas followed Basher to his apartment, Momaka asked Dreamer to meet her in the clearing where the Raging Gardeners had put Double-Tom on trial.

  "Why are we back here?" Dreamer asked as she landed next to Momaka.

  "We didn't catch a pervert this week and I thought that you should come to more burials than what you've been doing. You thought that you weren't getting better."

  "Will I be the only one?"

  "No. Two others will join us soon. Wanda is picking them up. Are you OK having another session here?"

  "I don't have a pervert to smash, so how will that help?"

  "Actually you will. Why don't we go into the burial clearing?"

  Dreamer started unbuttoning her blouse.

  "That won't be necessary."

  # # # # # # # #

  "You dug up Double-Tom's right arm and hand?"

  "Yes. I cleaned it up a bit. It's just bones now. I noticed that you had a need to smash some hand bones last time. You know why, right?"

  "Yeah. Because he put that hand under the bath tub water and went after me."

  "Would you like a go at his hand again?"

  "I wouldn't mind." Dreamer went to the bag of tools, selected the hammer, found a broad rock, put Double-Tom's detached hand on it, and knelt down on the ground.

  "Visualize what's happening in the bathroom. Get angry. You're going to teach him not to do this to young girls again."

  Dreamer closed her eyes. Her breathing increased, her face flushed red, and she became physically agitated. Dreamer raised the hammer into the air, opened her eyes, and was taking aim when Momaka yanked the hammer out of her hand.

  "Now that you've visualized what happened in the bathroom up to the time you are the angriest, perhaps you should tell me what actually happened. Include what you've been hiding from me."

  # # # # # # # #

  The hand was still on the rock. Dreamer was at the edge of the clearing, sitting on the ground with Momaka, both of them sort of cuddled together.

  "So his hand happened to brush your body. You still fought him off. Why are you upset about a glancing touch?"

  "Because Nonny told me when we had our first sex talk that some boys in the tribe might try to touch me where they weren't allowed to touch me. And that's where my dad's hand touched me. I wasn't supposed to let anybody touch me there. Otherwise, I'd be a baddy and she didn't want me to be a baddy. I didn't want to be a baddy. I never wanted Nonny to be angry with me or upset with me."

  "You weren't a bad girl because of what happened, Dreamer."

  "But you don't understand. He touched me where he wasn't allowed to touch me! And I was so scared that I peed in the bathtub! The pee got all over me and over his hand. My dad took his hand out of the water, looked disgusted, and swatted me in the face. Then my nose started to bleed into the bathtub. And he left. And I couldn't clean the tub up properly, and the pee and the blood were all over me and the tub, and I had been yelling so loud that I thought Nonny would come in and find me and see the bath tub all yellow and red. And now I'm frightened that if somebody who I like touches me, and even though it might be alright to touch me, I could..."

  "...have an accident that would make you extremely embarrassed."

  "Yes!"

  "Is that what you've been holding back from telling me?"

  "It's really, really embarrassing to tell someone that you once sat in your own pee in a bathtub, Momaka."

  "Did you know what one of the best things a woman could do when it looks like a man is going to have forced sex with her?"

  "What?"

  "Exactly what you did."

  "Honest?"

  "Honest. It tends to put most men off. Peeing accidentally or intentionally when a man is forcing himself on you doesn't stop a woman from having a normal sex life with somebody they love. Women don't have a repeat performance because, when you're having sex with someone you love, you're not scared for your life. Peeing uncontrollably is the body's natural reaction to extreme fear."

  "Did it ever happen to you?"

  "I had my own very embarrassing moment in a bed and I soaked everything. The sheets as well as the mattress."

  "Did it scare the man off?"

  "Are you ready to pulverize that hand now?"

  # # # # # # # #

  Wanda and Momaka were in the trial clearing with an elderly aboriginal couple when Dreamer came back to the clearing. Did they hear me? Dreamer messaged to Momaka.

  They were warned that anybody they met in this clearing would have a lot of emotions to unload. Besides, you weren't as noisy as you've been in the past.

  Why are they here? Did a pervert attack her years ago?

  No. Somebody in their family was murdered. Let's fly for a bit and give them some privacy.

  Wanda took the couple into the burial clearing and left them there alone. When she peeked in, she saw that the wife had put the pulverized remains of Double-Tom's hand back in his grave. The husband had dug up the pieces of Double-Tom's skull and had worked on that. He also cleaned up after himself and made the grave look normal again. You can come back to the clearing now, Wanda messaged Dreamer and Momaka.

  Momaka led the couple through the tree planting process. Two young trees were already growing in this clearing from Double-Tom's and Candi's funerals. Momaka placed the third tree on the opposite side of the clearing. The husband willingly grabbed the shovel and dug the hole. He was a tall thin man and, although he had to be at least 60, he found the labour easy. The wife also assisted. She was shorter than her husband, stocky, and with a long braid down her ba
ck as compared to her husband's short curly hair, with lots of silver interspersed with light brown.

  When the ceremony was over, Momaka and Wanda pulled Dreamer aside. Wanda said, "These people are strangers to you and they can remain strangers if you wish. They were here to mourn the murder of their son. Their son was your biological father. His name was Sam Buck. Your grandparents don't know that you exist. Knowing that you do exist might give them some comfort."

  Dreamer thought about it while the couple walked to Wanda's copter and their ride back to Barriere. Then she trotted over, stopped them, and said, "Hi, my name is Dreamer. I'm your granddaughter."

  Had the Bucks been drinking hot chocolate, they would have spewed it all over themselves. But they weren't, so they didn't. It did take them a minute to react though. Teenagers don't understand that they have to ease their way into some discussions.

  # # # # # # # #

  Dreamer wasn't the only one to relive an embarrassing moment this week. The morning after Dreamer had told Momaka about her bathtub experience, Lucas was sitting on one of the public wooden benches on the edge of a small Toronto park facing the Chocoholic Shop. Theo had flown off to the St. Lawrence Rivulet that morning, taking with him the portable heat sensor that William had sent up by overnight express. Theo was convinced that some creature was living on that island and the sensor would not only tell him where it was but it would give him an indication of its size as well.

  Theo would be back by noon. Lucas had offered to handle the store by himself for the morning because he also was curious what kind of animal with opposable thumbs could find an invisible pouch. Normally he and Theo would be in the store by 8:45 and that would give them ample time to prepare everything for a 9:00 opening.

  Lucas has been sitting on the bench thinking about what he should do about the insurance salesman. He had thought that all he'd have to do was scare off the big guy. But Basher was just a tool for his father. Basher could barely take care of himself. Actually, he probably couldn't even do that. The key to stopping the insurance demands would be to find the father. Lucas had some promising leads.

  Lucas was checking the time when he heard a voice say, "Look who it is. It's Take you hand of my boob, Lucas."

  "That's not funny, Theo. I told you that was very embarrassing. Why would you remind me of that?" Lucas was trying to find his juice bottle and didn't even bother looking at Theo who had come up beside the bench and had imitated a girl's voice. "What happened to your trip?" Lucas asked.

  "What makes you think that I'm Theo? Do I sound like Theo?"

  "No you don't, but voices can be disguised. If you're here, we can both open the store." He continued to look for his bottle of juice. It wasn't under the bench, not by his feet...