by Tod Davies
“Delighted,” Snotty said with enthusiasm, and he, too, bounded to his feet, marveling as he did at the luxurious drape of his new clothes. He wondered privately how much they might have cost. He wondered what business Luc was talking about. But those thoughts disappeared the moment Snotty caught sight of what Luc considered ‘a small bite to eat.’ And Snotty was impressed. Truly, Luc had invited his friend Snotty to a royal feast.
A banquet table as long as a stretch limousine stood there in the middle of the desert floor, the morning sunlight glinting off the heavy silver cutlery, the gold-rimmed china, the crystal goblets, and the white damask linens that covered it all. Not even the Gnomes’ feast had come up to this. All the time that Snotty had run his business in Megalopolis, dodging threats and violence and arrest, he had always hoped, wistfully, in the back of his mind, that someone, somewhere, would see what he was doing and admire and appreciate it. And that people would show that admiration and appreciation by giving parties in his honor. Parties just like this.
It was a fine feast. There was a whole ham, its brown glazed fat studded with cloves. There were white asparagus as thick as Snotty’s wrist, dripping with butter. There was a pyramid of red candy apples. And an enormous platter piled high with the fattest, most golden, oiliest chips Snotty had ever seen, all toothsome and savory. Next to them was a crystal cruet of walnut-colored vinegar.
“Not that I eat like this just any day,” Luc joked. “Only when I have a guest I admire and appreciate and want to impress.”
At this, tears leapt to Snotty’s eyes. But he turned his head and wiped them quickly away before Luc could see. Filled with confidence now, Snotty picked up one of the huge, gold-rimmed plates and piled it high with helpings of chips and thick slices of steaming hot ham. “This is great, Luc, really,” Snotty said as he gave the crispy chips a couple of hefty shakes from the vinegar cruet. “Thanks a lot.”
“No nettle greens there, eh?” Luc said in a casual tone.
Snotty paused at this and blinked, as if some vague memory had passed through his head. A griping pain in the lower part of his gut was making itself known more insistently than before. He thought now that he’d felt this pain from the minute he’d woken on the desert floor. It was a nagging tightness in his belly, and it seemed to be getting worse.
Hunger pangs, Snotty decided. He couldn’t think what else it could be. He was hungry. But when he looked at the food piled high on his plate, his face, in spite of himself, settled into an expression of faint disgust.
Uncertain, Snotty looked at Luc and tried to smile. He saw the beautiful young man watch him closely from under hooded eyes. Snotty knew, all of a sudden, that Luc didn’t want him to know how closely he watched.
This put Snotty on his guard—but against what, he didn’t know. Automatically he took up a fork and began to eat. He chewed his way dutifully through a half a plate of food until, fretful, he pushed his plate away.
“Nothing wrong, I hope?” Luc said in his smooth way. “Nothing to intrude a false note?”
Snotty rubbed at his forehead and noticed that his skin was peeling off his face, as well as off his hands and arms. Lifting his shirt, he saw the same thing happening on his stomach. He could feel the skin peeling on his back, too.
Luc cleared his throat.
“Sorry, Luc,” Snotty said, ashamed, because for a minute there he had forgotten Luc was there at all. He felt rude and vulgar and embarrassed.
Luc, ever tactful, ignored this. Instead, he knit his eyebrows together and brought his long white fingers into a tapping, meditating steeple.
“Speak to me, Snotty,” he urged finally in the gentlest of voices. “There should be no secrets between business partners.”
“Business partners?” Snotty said, astonished. He looked at Luc to see if he was making fun of him. “Are we business partners?”
“Of course we’re business partners,” Luc said smoothly, and passed Snotty a platter loaded with chocolate and whipped cream cakes. “Don’t you remember? You work for me,” he prompted. “You’re the best. The star of the organization. My most up-and-coming boy.”
“The star of the organization,” Snotty repeated, scratching at his stomach. The new skin left behind by the peeling of the old itched under his new clothes. Snotty was surprised to realize he missed his old, worn-in Teddy Bear outfit. And the cramping in his stomach got worse. He took a bite of the ham and chips, but they had cooled down now, and they tasted dusty and old and mean. “Yeah,” he said in an automatic voice. “Yeah, I think I remember.”
“Have a cake,” Luc advised in his calm way.
“I will,” Snotty agreed. “Thanks.” But even as he bit into the luscious filling between slices of sponge light as air, he couldn’t stop a stricken look that crept onto his face.
“You were the star of the organization,” Luc continued, as if he hadn’t noticed any of this. “And so I made you—you, and you only—a full partner in the business.”
At this Snotty gave Luc a quick look, one that was both deeper and more earnest than any he had given before.
“Out of admiration and appreciation for your hard work and brilliance,” Luc said warmly. “You deserve it, Snotty. You really do.”
“Sure,” Snotty agreed in an unhappy voice. “Thanks.”
“With this promotion,” Luc went on, “your days of proving yourself are over. Now others can prove themselves to you. You’re at the top. The pinnacle of your profession. The peak.”
“The peak,” Snotty repeated vaguely. “The Peak of Transcendence. I remember.”
“Yes,” Luc said, pleased. “The Peak of Transcendence, indeed.”61
The two were silent. Snotty, made uneasy by this, reached for a candy apple. But it tasted sickeningly sweet, and the apple under the flabby sugar coating was mealy and didn’t have much flavor. So he put it aside.
“Only one person at a time can sit on top of the Peak,” Luc reminded Snotty, watching him.
“Yeah,” Snotty said. And then there was silence again.
Luc moved restlessly in his chair. Snotty could see that Luc didn’t like silence either. The beautiful young man snapped his fingers, and a military band—complete with bagpipes—appeared and began to play.
“Ah,” Luc said, settling back into his chair. “That’s better.”
But Snotty didn’t think it was better after all. Confused, he squirmed on his spindly gold seat.
“Yes, Snotty,” Luc continued. “You’re a full partner now. That’s the meaning of Success. You’re the Biggest. The Best. Everyone looks up to you. Everyone fears you. Everyone envies you. This is what I have done for you.”
This seemed to call for an answer. “Thanks,” Snotty finally said, though he couldn’t help but feel it was a lame response.
If it was lame, Luc either didn’t notice or decided, for reasons of his own, to overlook it. His eloquence was in full flood now, and he ran his perfect fingers through his glossy black hair in his excitement. “And you deserve it, Snotty!” he said. “You do! You, who were the lowest of the low in your world, you of all people understand that there must be Those Who Rule and Those Who Are Ruled. THAT is the True Law of Everywhere. You of all people understand that the Universal Destiny is Big and Grand, not Small and Humble. That it is Strong and Powerful, not Foolish and Weak!” Luc’s face clouded and grew ugly with anger. “Others,” he said briefly, “have not understood this so well as you.”62
“The Teddy Bears,” Snotty said before he knew what he was saying. Then he looked confused. Who or what were the Teddy Bears? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was that, whatever they were, they were against Luc.
“Among others,” Luc said. His eyes flashed.
A sudden panic gripped Snotty. He had lost something! Shoving his maimed hand first into one pocket of his new clothes, then into the other, he knew he missed it. But what was it?
“They refused to acknowledge those put in authority above them,” Luc said.
“That�
�s bad,” Snotty said, although he was only half paying attention. In shoving his hand into his pockets, he had torn open his wound. Its throbbing distracted him. He looked at his little finger’s stump and saw it start to bleed again.
That was when he remembered. The Key. He had lost the Rose Gold Key!
“Miserable bits of fluff!” Luc said contemptuously. “Toys, not men! They were never worthy to have you among them!”
“Me among them,” Snotty murmured. Where was the Key? He couldn’t remember. He could only remember that it was important. His Teddy Bear clothes. The Key had been in his Teddy Bear clothes. But what were they? Where were they? Covertly, Snotty began to scan the desert floor.
“You!” Luc continued. “You, Snotty the Great! Snotty of the House of Kings! Snotty the SUN GOD!”
At this, Snotty looked at Luc. His jaw opened and shut. “I do know you,” he said finally. “I do.” And, once more, he forgot the Key.
Luc stared deeply into Snotty’s eyes and put his hands on him, one on each shoulder. “From the earliest age, Snotty, you understood. You understood completely that the Strong rule the Weak. And that for the Big to possess the World is the only Law. To make sure nothing is left that is miserable, crawling, mean, or small.”
“I know who you are!” Snotty said. “You’re Mr. Big!”
The moment he said it, he knew it was right. Luc was many things. But among them, he was Mr. Big.
Chapter XX
SNOTTY’S CHOICE
Luc was much moved.
“You know me, then,” he said, and his gaze deepened.
“Yes,” Snotty said after a moment. “I do know you. I think I’ve known you a long time.”
At this, Snotty got up awkwardly from his seat and shifted from foot to foot in the sand.
“I’ve been working for you, haven’t I?” he said quietly. “I pretended I made you up, but I knew that wasn’t true. I always knew you were real.”
“You were a smart boy,” Luc agreed. “One of my favorites. And you never cried.”
“No.” Snotty gave an unhappy smile at this mention of his accomplishments. “You’ve been with me all along, haven’t you, Luc? Ever since I can remember. And with my mother. And with everyone on Hamercy Street, too.”
Snotty could remember his home now. But the memory was a mean and shabby one. There was no pleasure in it.
“They never could see me,” Luc said in a tender voice. “They never had the vision. They never had the nerve. Not like you.”
Snotty looked away. “What do you mean?” he said shyly, kicking at the sand.
Then something down there caught his eye. A glint of gold. And there it was: the Key. It lay there, under a dusting of sand, shining in the sun.
Luc didn’t see it. He was too busy scanning the horizon. Quickly, Snotty scooped up the Key.
Luc seemed to make a decision. Draping one arm around Snotty’s shoulders, he wheeled him around and walked them both out briskly onto the desert.
“I mean, Snotty,” he said, “something you already know. It’s lonely at the top.”
Snotty nodded. He had found this himself, both in his career in Megalopolis and in his brief reign as the Sun God.
“Yes,” he agreed.
“When I find someone I can talk to—really talk to—I like to keep them close. I like to reward them for being my friend.”
“You want to be my friend,” Snotty said. He hefted the Key in his pocket, folding his fingers around it to keep it safe.
“In a word,” Luc confirmed expansively. “And in exchange...look!”
Luc swept an arm in front of them, toward the vista ahead.
Snotty’s eyes focused, then widened. “Wow,” he said simply. And he ran toward the marvelous sight.
A plateau had appeared on the desert: a shelf, a butte, jutting out over the expanse of dead sand. On it was a telescope: big, oldfashioned, heavy, made of greenish bronze, trimmed with an ornamental footplate and a coin slot to make it work. This pointed over the desert plain, which was covered by a morning fog behind which the Mountains of Resistance had disappeared. A mist rising from this fog crept up the sides of the Peak of Transcendence. And when the fog parted, at the foot of the Peak, Snotty saw the great city of Megalopolis!
“Wow!” he said again as he reached the plateau.
There it was, Megalopolis: mighty, vast, humming and buzzing, writhing on the desert floor. And looming over it, as pure, unattainable, and desirable as ever, the Peak of Transcendence glistened in the noonday sun.
Snotty sucked in his breath in wonder and touched the enormous telescope with a doubtful hand.
“Allow me,” Luc said smoothly behind him. Luc’s beautiful slim hand snaked around his neck and put a silver coin in the telescope’s slot.
“WOW!” Snotty yelled, his breath rushing out. He jumped on the telescope’s wrought iron step and peered through the eyepiece at the city below. “I can see my house!” Just then the telescope clicked shut. Snotty groaned with disappointment. But Luc produced more coins from his perfectly tailored pockets and poured them into the slot. And so Snotty could swing the telescope first this way, then that, exclaiming at the sights.
“Look! I can see the docks at Mega Harbor! And the phone mast in the schoolyard! There’s the police station! Incredible!”
There they were, all the scenes from his life. And not just his life, but the dreams he had for his life, as well. There were the glittering boulevards choked with traffic! There were the shops bulging with expensive goods! There were the grand buildings!
“Tilt up the lens,” Luc urged. He put a large gold coin in the slot and pushed at the telescope gently.
Snotty, obedient, looked. And there, over Megalopolis, loomed the Peak of Transcendence. And Snotty saw for the first time that what fueled the great city was desire for the Peak.
He could see everyone in Megalopolis. They climbed over each other to get to the top of the Peak. And the energy they generated, squabbling and clawing, was the fuel that powered the giant city. He, Snotty, had been the fuel that powered Megalopolis. He and everyone in it.63
Luc studied him carefully now. Intent on a line of thought, his hand fell away from the telescope. He didn’t notice when the mirage of Megalopolis began to dissolve.
“Then we’ll finish up the formalities, shall we?” he said in a brisk tone. “The contract and so on. Our partnership agreement. All that’s customary in these cases. I’m sure you want to do everything right.”
“Oh yeah,” Snotty said, looking at him unhappily. “Sure.” As Luc patted his pockets for a pen, Snotty darted up for one last look.
Recognizing his mistake, Luc shot out a hand to block Snotty’s view. But Snotty was too quick. As Snotty squinted through the eyepiece, the great city of Megalopolis began to disappear, rolling up like a piece of painted canvas. Behind it, the desert revealed itself. And poking up from a mound of sand was the broken paw of a Teddy Bear.
At this, the gold coin’s credit ran out. The black shade of the eyepiece clicked shut. On the platform, Snotty stepped back from the telescope.
“Something the matter?” Luc said in his calm way. But he watched the boy with a veiled look.
“What?” Snotty said vaguely. He shook himself, as if he were cold. “No,” he said finally. “Nothing’s the matter.”
“You seem disturbed,” Luc said, probing delicately, hiding his impatience.
“I’m not...”
“Distracted...”
At this, Snotty wheeled around and bawled, “Just leave me alone, okay?” He turned and walked into the desert alone.
Luc, apparently untroubled, brought his fine fingers together again in their tapping, meditative steeple. He waited, composed, until Snotty, not knowing what else to do, wandered back.
“That’s your city then,” Snotty said finally.
“One of them,” Luc conceded. “Yes.”
Snotty nodded as if this only confirmed what he knew already.
“It can be your city, too,” Luc reminded him.
“I know,” Snotty said dully. Luc frowned.
Luc waited patiently while Snotty kicked up sand with his toe. But there were indications that this patience was wearing thin. “Look at me, Snotty,” Luc said sharply. When Snotty didn’t, but instead turned and walked away, shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets, Luc’s expression changed.
“I’ve offered to be your friend,” Luc called after him warningly. Snotty looked back at him, troubled. “Yeah,” he said. “You did that before. When I was a little kid.”
“That’s right,” Luc said, and the tenderness returned to his voice. “I’m pleased you remember.” When Snotty stayed silent, he said, “From the first, you were one of my favorite boys.”
Snotty muttered something under his breath.
“What?” Luc said sharply. “I can’t hear you.”
Snotty mumbled just loud enough to be understood. “I said I wasn’t a boy then, not when you and I first met. I was a girl.”
This was the truth. Snotty had been born a girl, and her mother had named her Lily. But there was only one thing lower, in Megalopolis, than a poor little boy from Widdleshift, in the neighborhood of Makewater, in the district of Hackendosh, part of the ancient county of Queerspittle, in the northwest of East New York. Only one thing was more scorned in Megalopolis than a poor little boy. And that was a poor little girl. It hadn’t taken Lily long to understand this, and when she did, she turned herself into Snotty. Her mother didn’t care. By and by, Lily was forgotten. It was easier that way, all round.64
But Snotty, try as he might, hadn’t forgotten. He tried, but he just couldn’t do it. He remembered how Luc had helped him become Snotty, helped him every step of the way. Had helped her. Snotty remembered now that she was Lily, and, as Lily, she forced herself to look Luc in the eye. “I’m not a boy, all right?” she said, all fierce. “I’m a girl. Okay?”
