by Roy, Philip;
“Really? You’re coming to the kingdom to interview us?”
“We have to. It’s part of our course. We could either interview you, or we could go to the golf course and interview the owners about reports they’re using illegal fertilizers, but that’s twelve kilometres away, and we’d have to take three buses to get there, and Mehra gets motion sickness on buses, so …”
“Oh.”
“So we’ll see you tomorrow, Billyboy.”
“Okay.”
By evening there are so many people in the kingdom there are almost no open spaces, except for the river’s edge. Dogs run loose, splash in the water, and chase Frisbees, which is fun to watch. There are long line-ups for the toilets, but everyone is relaxed and friendly. No one seems to mind.
Tonight there are a lot of people who have come to the kingdom with some sort of request. They have to form a line to wait their turn to talk to us. It isn’t our fault. We are happy to talk to everybody, but you can’t talk to everybody at the same time. Besides, people want to talk in privacy, and the only way they can do that is if we sit together away from everybody else.
People have started calling us the Council. I guess that works. It’s not our name but what people want to call us, and the name just sticks. So if you come to the kingdom and want something, you have to speak to the Council, which is us.
In the line-up tonight are a couple of guys with tents and sleeping bags. They’re kind of dirty and smelly, but one of them has a really nice dog. We are official animal lovers now that we’re supporting a local shelter for wounded puppies and kittens. We have decided that the kingdom should be a sanctuary for all animals.
When the two young men stand in front of us, they can’t take their eyes away from our pizza.
ME: “Would you like some pizza?”
MAN: “Yeah. That’d be great.”
They help themselves. They’re starving. We give their dog a slice, too. We always have more pizza than we can eat because Green Daddy’s brings over three extra-large pizzas and six cans of pop every night. After the Council eats theirs, somebody else always finishes the rest. For our part we make sure Green Daddy’s banner hangs clearly from one of the toilets, where everybody can see it.
The two guys tell us they and their dog are homeless. We say we understand. Then they ask if they can pitch their tents in the kingdom and stay for a while. We look at each other and think about it.
SAMI: “We don’t have that much room.”
MAN: “There’s a spot over there. We saw it. We can squeeze our tents close together, and we won’t bother anybody. We promise. If anybody complains, we promise we’ll leave.”
He sounds kind of desperate. I shrug my shoulders. Sami does, too. Charlie looks like he doesn’t care. He’s only interested in their dog. He’s not asking people for money anymore. Ever since we gave the shelter all our money, he’s changed. I don’t know how exactly; I can just feel it.
ME: “Yeah, I guess so.”
MAN: “Oh, that’s great!”
They both reach over and shake our hands. Their hands are greasy.
Next in line is an old man from the Briffin Bach Society. He explains that the Briffin Bach Society is trying to keep classical music alive in our community, and they want to know if they can come over on Sunday afternoon and sing.
We shrug again and say that that sounds okay, but warn that Sunday afternoon is pretty busy in the kingdom, and noisy, and they might have a hard time being heard.
OLD MAN: “Don’t worry about that. We’ll sing real loud.”
Then he smiles, thanks us, and steps into the river. As I watch him go, I feel amazed by how many people are willing to get wet to come to the kingdom. It seems to bother them less than waiting in traffic.
Next in line is a company that sells grass. A middle-aged man, who looks a little like my dad, starts to tell us how great the island would look if it were covered with grass. For a very reasonable sum, we can have the entire kingdom covered with grass sods. Are we interested?
Firstly, we explain, we can’t afford it. Secondly, even if we could afford it, the grass would get trampled immediately by all the people here. Look around, I say. The man looks around at all the people, sighs, and shrugs his shoulders. Then he steps into the river. I look at Charlie and Sami and they roll their eyes.
CHARLIE: “He just wanted our money.”
ME: “We don’t have any money, Charlie.”
The next person tells us she has been on the island all day but forgot to bring a lunch. She wonders if there is any pizza left. Sami opens one of the boxes and gives her the last two slices.
WOMAN: “Any pop?”
ME: “Sorry, it’s all gone.”
WOMAN: “That’s okay. I’ll just drink from the river.”
When she steps out of the way, we’re staring into the faces of the Three Fates.
Chapter 12
WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE how weird it is. Sami, Charlie, and I sit in a semi-circle in our lawn chairs, forming the Council of the Kingdom of No Worries, the ultimate authority on the island, while Merilee, Mehra, and Marcie stand humbly in front of us. Maybe humble is not the best word to describe them.
MERILEE: “Finally!”
ME: “Sorry. We’ve been busy.”
MERILEE: “Well, if your elevated highnesses wouldn’t mind stooping so low, would you be willing to answer a few questions?”
SAMI: “Sure.”
CHARLIE: “Shoot.”
MERILEE: “Why do you call this nascent country a kingdom? Aren’t kingdoms outdated and irrelevant today?”
SAMI: “Not at all. Our kingdom, like the Kingdom of Lesotho, is a constitutional monarchy. It’s very relevant today. Look around.”
Sami gestures for the Fates to look at all the people, which they do.
CHARLIE: “We like the name.”
MEHRA: “We notice you have advertisements from banks, insurance companies, and pizzerias. Are you creating revenue?”
Mehra is exactly the same height as Merilee, and they look like sisters, except that Mehra is from India, and her hair is a little darker and her skin a little more tanned. Sometimes she wears a sari, and then so does Merilee and Marcie, so they all look like they’re from India.
CHARLIE: “What’s revenue?”
MERILEE: “Money.”
ME: “Yes.”
MARCIE: “Very much money?”
Marcie is a little shorter than Merilee and Mehra but can pass for their sister, too.
SAMI: “Yes.”
Marcie’s eyes open wide.
MARCIE: “Then you are obviously pursuing a capitalist economy.”
CHARLIE: “We gave it away.”
MERILEE: “You gave it away?”
She looks horrified at the thought that we gave our money away.
MERILEE: “To whom?”
ME: “The Briffin Shelter for Wounded Puppies and Kittens.”
MEHRA: “How much money did you give them?”
SAMI: “That’s a state secret.”
CHARLIE: “Twelve hundred dollars.”
MERILEE: “Twelve hundred dollars! You gave away twelve hundred dollars?”
They stare at us with shock, as if we did something really stupid, but we stand our ground. We have a responsibility to defend the actions of our kingdom.
ME: “It was for a good cause.”
The Fates look down at their notebooks and scan for their next question. I peek around at the crowd behind them.
ME: “There are other people in line.”
I try to sound as polite as I can. Merilee gives me a scowl.
MERILEE: “You have had some altercations with the police. How do you intend to protect the sovereignty of your country?”
CHARLIE: “What’s sovereignty?”
MERILEE: “Your right to exist.”
SAMI: “Public support. People want us to be here.”
CHARLIE: “Everybody likes us.”
ME: “We offer something specia
l. Our country is a place of complete tolerance.”
MERILEE: “Intriguing. Will you allow sun worshipers in?”
ME: “Of course.”
MEHRA: “Global warming deniers?”
SAMI: “Yes.”
MARCIE: “Refugees?”
SAMI: “Definitely.”
MERILEE: “Even if it means jail time?”
SAMI: “Yes.”
MARCIE: “Homeless people?”
ME: “They’re already here.”
I point to the two tents at the bottom of the kingdom. The Fates look over.
MERILEE: “You’re a kingdom. Do you have a king?”
We look at each other. We’re taking turns but have forgotten whose turn it is.
CHARLIE: “I’m king.”
ME: “We take turns.”
Merilee looks at Charlie and squints.
MERILEE: “Were you elected?”
CHARLIE: “Yes.”
Merilee looks down at her notebook again.
MERILEE: “Are Jews welcome?”
SAMI: “Yes.”
MEHRA: “Hindus?”
SAMI: “Yes.”
MARCIE: “Muslims?”
ME: “Of course.”
MARCIE: “Buddhists?”
CHARLIE: “Yes.”
MEHRA: “What about the Dalai Lama?”
ME: “Who’s that?”
MEHRA: “The exiled spiritual leader of Tibet.”
ME: “Sure.”
MERILEE: “What about communism? Would you allow a communist party to form?”
ME: “Yes.”
MERILEE: “But what if they cause a revolution in your country and try to take power by force?”
CHARLIE: “Violence is forbidden, so we would kick them out.”
MERILEE: “You’d kick them out?”
ME: “Yes.”
MERILEE: “You’d use force, then?”
SAMI: “Yes, if we had to.”
MERILEE: “And who exactly would exercise that force? Do you have an army?”
Merilee rolls her eyes.
CHARLIE: “So far there’s just three in our army, but it will grow when we hire more soldiers.”
The Three Fates stare with unbelieving faces. They are not satisfied but have run out of questions. My guess is that they won’t ask anything they haven’t prepared.
I’m right. After a long stare, they thank us for our time, step out of the line-up, and approach the river. Watching them cross is a sight I will remember for the rest of my life. There’s nothing extraordinary about it, but something in the way they step up to the river, stop, and wait, strikes me. It’s as if they’re waiting for it to stop flowing and part, like Moses at the Red Sea, to allow them to walk across dry land.
It doesn’t. They enter the river with their notebooks over their heads. As the water rises to their stomachs, they put their notebooks in their mouths, link hands, and continue crossing. Nature makes no special arrangements for anyone, unless you are Moses.
On the other side, they climb the bank and shake out their dresses. Their clothes stick to them now like wet paper, which makes them look like very skinny wet cats. They walk away faster and faster, never once turning around to look back.
Chapter 13
TODAY IS A DAY of reckoning.
We return to the kingdom, as we do every day, and clean up the grounds. It is amazing how much garbage people make in a single day. Our goal is to become one hundred percent litter free. We have posted signs in the toilets to ask people to take home whatever they bring to the kingdom, and yet we still find cans, bottles, wrappers, and plastic every morning. We separate the recyclables from the non-recyclables, and bag everything. Then we carry the bags across the river every few days and bring it to my house, where we add it to the city’s regular pickup, which we feel is only fair because it came from the city in the first place.
Then we clean the toilets. It’s a pretty stinky job but has to be done, and we don’t really mind doing it because we are so proud of our kingdom. After that we take a peek at the tiny campground where the homeless people are staying. Everyone is still asleep. Homeless people, we have learned, sleep a lot.
After cleanup and inspections, we take our seats on the Council, sit back and watch as a steady stream of people cross the river and enter the kingdom. Every day there are more, and every day there are more things happening, such as street musicians, jugglers, magic tricks, and acrobatics. It is more interesting every day. Our kingdom has become a centre of fun and entertainment for the whole city. And then, just when we least expect them … the police finally show up. This time, it isn’t just a couple of officers.
They come down the river in boats. Four rubber dinghies with three or four officers in each one land on the north side of the island. The police step out without getting their feet wet. They are big officers, and look even bigger with their bulletproof vests, billy clubs, and guns. They mean business. They frown at the music, the dancing, the jugglers, and magic tricks. They frown when they see the tents, the toilets, the garden, and flagpole. They talk to some people, who point to us. Then they come over. One of them appears to be in charge. He stands in front of us, breathing heavily, even though he hasn’t even done any work.
OFFICER: “Okay, you’ve had your fun. It’s time for you to get off this island.”
CHARLIE: “This is our land.”
OFFICER: “No, it isn’t. This is city property. Get off now or you will be arrested.”
SAMI: “This is the Kingdom of No Worries; you have no right to arrest us.”
CHARLIE: “Maybe we should arrest you.”
The police officer looks very angry.
OFFICER: “You’ve got ten minutes to grab your stuff and leave.”
Everyone around us is watching and listening, and people are coming closer. More people are crossing the river. This makes the police a little nervous, I think, but they are standing their ground. I guess they don’t have any choice; this is their job. Suddenly someone in the crowd shouts out, “If you arrest the Council, you’ll have to arrest me, too!”
“Me, too!” says another person, and then another.
“You’ll have to arrest all of us!”
The police look around. They’re surrounded by people but don’t look like they are about to change their minds. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I have a sick feeling in my stomach and I’m wondering if we’re going to have a riot. I wonder what our responsibility is if we have a riot in our kingdom. Before that can happen, something else happens, something truly wonderful.
Another boat lands next to the police boats. Out step two men: a big man and a small man. They are dressed in fancy suits. They frown at the police. The police stop what they are doing and stare curiously at the men as they approach. The big man looks like Sami. Then I realize that he is Sami’s father. I look at Sami. He’s staring at his dad as if he’s a Greek god who just came to Earth.
Sami’s father wastes no time walking up to the police officer in charge and telling him to back down. On behalf of the Kingdom of No Worries, he has obtained a court injunction that prevents anyone from removing the occupants of this river island for thirty days, until the matter can be settled in court. He gestures for his assistant to produce the necessary documents, which he does, pulling some papers out of his briefcase.
The police officer takes the papers, reads the first page, and hands it back. He makes a call on his cellphone, speaks for a while, nodding his head most of the time, then puts his phone away. He gestures with his head to the other police officers, and they start back toward their boats. As he passes us, he points his finger at us and says, “We’ll be back in thirty days.”
Everyone in the kingdom cheers. Sami is beaming. He follows his dad over to his boat, where they have a private conversation. Then his dad slaps him on the back, gets into the boat with the other man, and they motor away. Sami never takes his eyes off his dad the whole time.
I go to bed tonight happy, t
hinking of Sami and his dad. Yet something is bugging me, though I don’t know what it is. I keep seeing the look on the police officer’s face when Sami’s dad handed him the papers that granted us thirty days. The officer looked confused at first, then frustrated. I don’t know why the police are so determined to get rid of us, except that, well, it’s their job, I suppose. But if all the people of Briffin want the kingdom to be here, why won’t the police accept it, too? And who will be the one who will ultimately decide anyway? That’s what I really want to know.
I get out of bed and sneak into Merilee’s room in the hope of asking her just that one question before she falls asleep, but I’m too late. She’s snoring like a train engine, and whenever she snores like that, she is impossible to wake up. So I creep back into my room, crawl into bed, and think about it until I fall asleep, too.
In the morning, I ask Dad before he leaves for work. Dad goes to work with a whistle on his lips, like one of the seven dwarfs, because he loves his job. He’s in a particularly good mood this morning.
“So, how are things progressing in the kingdom? Should I be calling you King Billy now?” He actually looks unsure if he should or not.
“Pretty good. Sami’s father saved us from getting kicked off yesterday. He showed up with something called an injunction.”
“No way.”
I nod my head.
“He’s a lawyer in the Big Smoke, isn’t he?” Dad always calls Toronto the “Big Smoke.”
“Yeah.”
“So he came up here and tied them up for a while, did he?”
“Thirty days.”
Dad whistles. “Well, that’s going to ruffle a few feathers in City Council.”
“Can I ask you a question, Dad?”
“Sure thing. I don’t know if I’ll be able to answer it, being just a lowly subject myself, but I’ll do my best.”
“Why, when everyone seems to love our kingdom, and everyone who comes over has a good time, and when we’re not bothering anybody, why are the police so angry about it, and so determined to kick us off? Why, when it’s such a good thing, do they want to take it away from us?”
“Because, all good intentions aside, you’re breaking the law.”
