ALEC: An Action & Adventure Fantasy Novel (Alexander Trilogy)

by Stan I. S. Law

  “You are whatever you think you are.”

  “You mean I could be any age, right now?” There was just a pinch of doubt in his voice. He did trust Sandra, but any age?

  “You must also obey the rules of the world you live in. If you want to change certain things, you must change your reality.”

  “Like using my imagination?” He was beginning to catch on.

  “That’s how you start.”

  “There is more than imagination?” He should have known better. He knew now by his own experiences that other realities were just as real.

  “Some realities you just imagine. Others you create with your mind. They are not quite the same.”

  “That’s it?” As if that weren’t enough!

  “No. There is more. But the next step is harder to explain.”

  But Alec was busy digesting. He’d never imagined that there might be different ways to travel. On the inside, he meant. Not just imagination, but—what did she say, mind?

  “How can you imagine worlds without using imagination?”

  “You did it when you were outside our Home world.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you remember?”

  In an instant Alec felt suspended in the middle of nowhere, in total darkness, surrounded by zillions of stars. This time it all looked sort of familiar. This was exactly where he had been on his first visit to the Far Country. Far Country? Home planet? Somehow these terms sounded right. How come he thought of that? Home planet, he repeated again, and it appeared before him, suspended in the glory of the Universe. “My Home planet...”

  He felt a smile coming from Sandra. No words, just a warm smile.

  Alec was suspended in a place he’d never imagined. He couldn’t have imagined. Surely, you can’t imagine what you’ve never seen, can you?

  “This is what you have created in your mind, instead.”

  He heard her voice, but his heart was filled with such wonder, such gratitude, that he was speechless. There was a beginning of knowledge formulating in his consciousness. Knowledge he never suspected existed. For now, he was imbued with beauty on such a gigantic scale that even his mind could hardly embrace it.

  But that was quite another story.

  ***

  They took a taxi to the Palm Beach International airport. In spite of the superb weather and the unexpected yacht cruise, Alicia’s mind was already home, hugging and kissing and generally mangling little Alec. ‘Little’ in her eyes, of course. By now Alec, who must have shot up almost six inches in the last few months, was almost her height; and most likely stronger, particularly in his tennis arm, than she was.

  They say that your children remain your children forever, regardless of size, age or prowess. This was certainly true of Alicia’s attitude. While his father accorded Alec his Coming of Age dues, for her he remained li’l Alec, as Don would say. She smiled when she recalled how Don referred to his thousands of acres farm as li’l spread. Perhaps Alec really was growing up, only she wished he didn’t do so quite so quickly. She dreaded the thought that one day he’d move out and she’d hardly see him again.

  “He might move out to Toronto, or Vancouver or even farther away,” she whispered to herself, once they were airborne.

  They took the last minute Expedia flight. For a mere five hours they didn’t need to book in advance, and were free to sit anywhere.

  “What was that, dear?” Alex’s ears were still pricking.

  “I was thinking of Alec…” She didn’t elaborate.

  “Me too,” Alex Senior confessed, surprisingly. “You know, even last year Alec was company. We played games, climbed Mont Royal, went for bike rides along Lachine Canal, and now…?”

  “And now our li’l boy is growing up.”

  Alicia was finally beginning to face the truth. Her little boy was no longer so little. Soon she’d no longer be the only ‘woman’ in his life. He’d find a girl friend; he’d spend his free time with her. He’d go for walks with her… sit around and chat… even as he had done with her not so long ago.

  “Why must children grow up?” she asked her husband. Her voice implied that it was all his fault.

  “Don’t look at me,” Alex was on the defensive. “I had nothing to do with it,” he added triumphantly.

  “If it hadn’t been for you, he wouldn’t even be here!” she replied in kind.

  Alexander Baldwin let that pass. It was too easy to counter. He smiled, and patted her hand.

  “I was under an impression that we’ve adopted him together…” he said softly. “It won’t be long now. We’re almost there.”

  They were, about four hours later, plus another hour from the Dorval Airport to home. Actually, it now was Pierre Eliot Trudeau Airport, also International. It amused Alex to think that the Federal Government had renamed it only to annoy the Quebec separatists for whom Trudeau, the name of the late Prime Minister of Canada, was a dirty word. When asked what he might do to the separatists during the so-called October crisis way back in 1970, he replied: “Just watch me.” The October Crisis had been triggered by two kidnappings of government officials by the FLQ. The Front de liberations du Québec. No one knew from whom they were trying to liberate Quebec, as the Prime Minister and most of the ministers of the federal government were all French Canadians. Perhaps they wanted to liberate Canada from Quebec?

  For Alex that crisis forever remained a mystery. Yet the politicians used Trudeau’s phrase “Just watch me”, to this day.

  “Do you think you can ever make him into a little boy again,” Alicia asked, tiny tears swirling in her eyes.

  It seemed that Alicia’s mind was entangled in her motherly heart.

  “Just watch me,” Alex Baldwin replied, deep conviction in his voice. “Just watch me,” he repeated, just to make sure.

  Only then he realized that he had absolutely no idea what his darling wife was asking him.

  9

  The Parents

  He spent Sunday walking through the park, skimming flat stones over the canal, trying to chase squirrels, as they played peek-a-boo around the tree trunks. Pete invited him for a Sunday lunch that his mother had prepared with her usual excess. If Pete wasn’t careful, he would grow up as fat as his father. Not that his mother was a lightweight. She kept her pounds down, though not quite successfully, by constantly bouncing up and down, prancing to and fro, passing this and that, making sure everybody was happy. Happy, in her definition, meant having your mouth full of food.

  The next three days Alec was quite busy at school. The end-of-the-year exams were approaching, and Alec was used to scoring quite well. He really liked learning. Almost anything. He did have his favorite subjects, but he found, early on, that the more you know about anything, anything at all, the more interesting it becomes. And he was still slowly working his way through the leather-bound collection of Shakespeare his father had given him last Christmas. His father thought it was important for Alec to read the best of the best, as he called it.

  At home he was catching up on his reading. Not just schoolwork, but the old classics ranging from Dickens to Conan Doyle. After his mother attempted to stir his interest in books with the story about some imaginary princess, he quickly got down to real books. He had his own Princess and didn’t need any funny stories for children.

  “I am thirteen, for crying out loud,” he said out loud for all to hear. The fact that he was alone didn’t matter. “I don’t read children’s stories. At least… not any more,” he added, his tone a lot quieter.

  Nevertheless, his reading always resulted in short but very real exploits, in his imagination, on the subjects just read. He visited old London, dodged the drunks in the East End, stole apples from the carts in the Covent Garden market. It was unfortunate that some of his exploits occurred when he was supposed to be paying attention in school. Miss Brunt was not amused. When she asked Alec to describe what was the architectural style of the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, he jumped up and screame
d, “I only took one and it was full of worms!”

  Miss Brunt was about to remonstrate with him for his inattention when he was whisked away from danger by the ringing of his cell phone. It was dad, confirming his parents’ return on Wednesday.

  “What did we say about the cell phones ringing in the classroom, Alec?”

  “Sorry, Miss Brunt. It’s my father, he’s away and…”

  “Yes, I know. Now put it away and pay attention.”

  Thanks, Dad, Alec whispered. In the process, the worm-eaten apple had been forgotten.

  And Wednesday was here. In about three hours his parents would be back home.

  Alec excused himself from school at three to return home and clean the place up for their return. Miss Brunt knew about his parents’ being away and trusted Alec’s judgment. Since Alec had touched neither broom nor vacuum cleaner in almost three weeks, he had plenty to do. It wasn’t that the place was dirty, or messy, but it didn’t look fresh. He took care of that. He wondered if either mom or dad would notice.

  Then he returned to his room, quickly got rid of his homework, and returned downstairs. The place definitely looked cleaner. He suddenly remembered that he hadn’t done any dusting. The kitchen dishcloth did the job in ten minutes. Then he lay back in dad’s favorite chair. He knew he would lose it the moment dad got back. His father seemed quite unable to sit anywhere else. He promised himself that when he grew up, he would have his own chair, with his name on it. It would be his spaceship, his base of operations for his jaunts and frolics. He really hoped he wouldn’t grow out of them, as his parents suspected. And then he heard footsteps on the front porch.

  “Darling!” his mother screamed for the whole neighborhood to hear. “Darling, how I missed you!”

  Alec felt himself swept off the floor, his feet dangling, the air squeezed out of his lungs. Motherly love can be a frightening thing.

  A good minute later, he shook hands with dad.

  “How are you, old man?” he was asked the usual greeting. “You look great! I told you, darling, that he would be just fine. That’s my boy. Ha!”

  The final “Ha!” was proof of the pudding. Alec felt like dad’s project had come to a successful conclusion. He wasn’t exactly displeased.

  He picked up one of the tote-bags and carried it inside. Dad took the other two, shut the door with his foot, dropped the bags and made a beeline for the fridge.

  “What I really missed was good ol’ Canadian beer. That stuff down South is more like water than water. Only too cold to swim in.”

  By the time he stopped talking, the bottle was at his lips. After three drags, he walked to his chair. “I missed you, too,” he addressed the armchair fondly. “They don’t make them like you down South. No, sir, not like you.” And with that he settled into his private haven. The fact that his chair, like most things, had been made in China didn’t seem to matter to dad.

  “Darling, you must tell me all about yourself. I want to know everything. Every minute detail,” his mother said as she ran upstairs to change. For the next ten minutes Alec and his dad were alone.

  “So how was it really, son? Bit lonely, eh?”

  “Not really, dad. Maybe in the beginning. But later...”

  “Well, I know I would be. I like having you and mother around. I reckon that’s why I married her. Ha, ha, and that’s why we had you, eh, old man?”

  Alec didn’t think dad’s attempt at wit required a comment.

  “Tell me about the boat trip.”

  “Yacht. A big, beautiful yacht. A Catalina 42. That’s a real ship. A sloop but with a cutter rig. She’s gorgeous in the Trade Winds. Just eats up those waves. Next time I’m taking you with me. Only don’t tell mother. She was a bit scared, now and again.”

  “Where did you get on board?” Alec liked to know the details. They invariably served as material for his future exploits. Of the Inner variety, of course.

  “On Lake Worth. That’s the Intracoastal Waterway between the Florida coast and Palm Beach County. We actually stayed on Singer Island, but mother wanted to go shopping on Worth Avenue—that’s in Palm Beach—and that’s when we met Don. The fellow is filthy rich, and lonely. A cattleman before they found oil on his property.” And here, Alec’s dad put on his best Texan accent. “Big daddy hand’d me down a li’l spread, ‘bout tieen thousan’ hieed of cattle. Was doin’ all right tieell some boys found oil on mah patch. Been a poor millionaire eever since.” Mr. Baldwin reverted to his Canadian accent with English overtones. “He asked us, there and then, if we would like to go for a sail with him. About ten minutes after meeting us. I think what he really wanted was to see mother in a bikini! Ha, ha... good that, eh, son?”

  “And you sailed...”

  “From the Lake through Freetown all the way to Nassau. That’s the capital of Bahamas, I suppose, on New Providence. Of all the seven hundred odd islands. That’s Bahamas Archipelago, son.”

  “How fast did you go?” Alec really dug in.

  “A lot faster coming back than going, I’ll tell you that. The Easterlies made us do some tacking on the way out, but coming back was a dream. Just plain sailing all the way back, it was!”

  This time, Mr. Alex Baldwin Sr. couldn’t contain himself. He laughed with a mirth he normally exhibited only after his third beer. Perhaps he’d had a few on the flight back.

  “There you are!”

  Alec’s mother flew down the stairs wearing a new, airy frock that served to show off her beautifully tanned arms, legs, shoulders, back and just about every other part of her body that decency allowed her to exhibit. Alicia Baldwin had married Alec’s father when she was hardly nineteen.

  “Did dad tell you all about our trip?”

  “Sail,” father corrected.

  She again took Alec in her arms and smothered him with kisses. “There, that’s better!” she affirmed after she’d had her fill. Alec was equally grateful for being set free. He preferred to cuddle up to his mother on the settee after dinner, in front of the TV, rather than be part of her main course.

  “It was marvelous, just marvelous!” she beamed. “You simply must come with us next time, Ali, you simply must!”

  No one raised any objections though Mr. Baldwin was a trifle surprised that mother was willing to expose the apple of her eye to the dangers of the cruel seas. Still, you never can tall with women, he mused, not for the first time.

  “It would be nicer if you waited another month, when the school year was over,” Alec observed judiciously.

  “No can do, son. By then we’d be into the hurricane season. Not funny. Those gusts go up to 250 miles an hour. Or is it knots? Don’t want to be caught on a ship in that sort of a breeze!”

  It was nearly seven, and Alec wondered if, for the first time in eighteen days, he would be spared a TV dinner. He didn’t have to wonder long.

  “Darling, we already ate on the plane. Do you think you could rustle yourself something up this one last time? I promise to cook you the best dinner you’ve ever had tomorrow. Really.” His mother beamed her promise with those perfect white teeth, looking twice as white against her bronzed skin.

  “Yes, mother. No problem. No problem at all.” Alec actually managed a smile.

  His parents were back.

  Things were back to normal.

  He preferred a sandwich to a TV dinner. In fact, he made a sandwich for each of them. In truth, in spite of mother’s buoyancy, they both looked tired. Half an hour later, after the sandwiches, his father was snoring gently in his private armchair. Alec and his mother went upstairs and stretched on the bed. This was his favourite way of talking to mother. Relaxed, uninhibited, away from the TV dinner or the box itself. Here, her love was almost palpable. In her every action, every move, every look. That was probably what he missed most when he was alone. Not the food, the physically being looked after, but that intangible, unspoken feeling of being loved.

  He did love dad, too, of course. He was also aware of his love. But it’s not the sam
e between men. It’s more a sense of friendship, of such rapport that only comrades can truly experience. And, yes, definitely of respect. He wondered if things like that would change when he grew older.

  Mom and he talked well into the night. When not stimulated to make an impression, even on her own family, his mother was an easy person to talk to. They talked at random, about almost anything, interrupting each other as new ideas crossed their minds. Alec described his first stint as the master of the house. He was quite happy that nothing dreadful had happened in his parents’ absence. His mother shared with him her own concerns. She said she resisted going on the yacht for a whole day, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to call him.

  “In the end dad and Don, that’s our host, darling, gave in, and we turned back early to have supper on shore. Also a lobster. But not as good as in Nassau, later.”

  Alec had absolutely no interest in lobsters. He’d never eaten one. He had no idea what was all the fuss about some stupid creepy-crawly bug.

  “So we’d decided to come back early and call you before we took off again, this time all the way to the Nassau. Oh, darling, how I’d wished you were there!”

  This was followed by a serried of hugs and squeezes.

  “I really wished you were there, Ali. If we ever get a chance, I’ll fly you in, even if it is in the middle of the school year. Only don’t tell daddy, he’s bound to say it’s too dangerous. He was a bit scared, now and again.”

  She left Alec sleeping on top of the sheets. Covering him with a spare blanket, she tiptoed out, switching off the light. Sailing was great, but it was good to be home. It was good to see Alec, after all this time. He seemed older than she remembered.

  It had taken Alec almost two weeks to get used to being alone, but it took just one day to adjust to having his parents back. Sure there was a bit more washing-behind-everything, a bit more sitting-up-straight, and make-sure-your-bed-is-made before he came down for breakfast, but breakfast was ready when he did finally come down, and the dinner, as his mother promised, consisted of all his favourite dishes. His mother may have had an artistic temperament, but she did keep her promises; and, well, he knew that she loved him.