And The Children Shall Lead

by Michael J. Bowler

  “Yeah, same for me,” Kai added. He glanced shyly at Dakota, and Lance noted his eyes drop downward toward Dakota’s brown, muscular forearms. He wondered if the Navajo was comparing Ricky to Dakota.

  “That’s smart,” Lance finally said after pulling his own gaze from Dakota’s arm. He looked at Ricky. “Any thoughts?”

  “Just that we gotta be way more careful, Lance,” he said, for once deadly serious. “We gotta start having eyes on top and in back of our heads.”

  Dakota squinted in confusion at Ricky’s choice of words, and Kai laughed at his expression.

  Lance sighed. “We have to figure that whoever this asshole is, besides being a coward who has to sneak around like a little bitch, he probably knows everything we’re gonna do and everywhere we’re gonna be.” He eyed his new friends soberly. “If we go to Washington, you guys are going with us.”

  The Indians exchanged a look. “To the White House?” Kai said incredulously.

  Lance nodded. “Where we go, you go. We’re a team now. The Native Knights, just like Reyna says.” He grinned, drawing a smile from Kai and a nod from Dakota. Ricky shoved him playfully.

  “I’ll native knight your fool ass, Lance,” he said with a laugh, and Lance shoved him right back.

  Shortly after, Kai took up residence outside in the hall for the first watch while Dakota slept. Lance and Ricky then stretched out on Lance’s bed, Ricky’s head resting on Lance’s chest, their hair splayed out in every direction. They lay there in peace, enjoying the quiet, their hands finding one another as always.

  Ricky sighed. “Do you think you’re over Richard now, Lance?”

  Lance turned inward as he recalled Richard’s face and haughty eyes. “I’m not saying I still won’t have nightmares, but thinking about him, like I’njm doing right now, doesn’t scare me any more. He’s less than a little bitch, Ricky. He’s nothing.”

  Ricky snuggled into Lance’s chest and smiled. “Does that mean you won’t be emo anymore?”

  Lance shook his head in feigned annoyance. “I’m not emo, fool. But I might still be moody sometimes. I don’t know. I can’t forget what he did, how he made me feel so… dirty.”

  Ricky lifted his eyes and fixed them on Lance’s face. Lance lowered his own to meet them. “Do you think eventually you’ll be able to––” He blushed then, but didn’t look away. “––you know, without freaking out?”

  Lance’s eyes went wide with surprise, and he felt a sudden chill wash over him.

  “Oh, no,” Ricky said quietly. “There’s your emo look again.”

  Lance shook his head and did his best to coalesce his thoughts so he wouldn’t hurt or disappoint Ricky. “I’m gonna emo your face with my fist if you keep calling me that,” he said with a playful squeeze of the other boy’s hand. Ricky smiled, but Lance knew he still wanted an answer to his question. “I don’t know,” he whispered honestly. “It’s just, you know, he did so many things to me that anybody touching me certain ways causes a freak out. Unless I’m drunk, and I’m done with that shit. For now I just love loving you. Is that okay?” He tried for a smile, and it drew one from Ricky.

  “It’s perfect,” Ricky answered, looking relieved. “I just wanna make you happy.”

  Lance smiled. “You do, fool. I’ve never been happier.”

  Ricky grinned, and that’s when they kissed, long and deeply and seemingly without end. They had a killer to catch and a bill of rights to get passed, and after all of that had been accomplished they’d take their time figuring out the rest. They had their whole lives to make everything perfect.

  †††

  Richard’s trial ended the following week. The jury barely deliberated an hour before they came back with a verdict of “guilty” on all charges. The sentencing was scheduled for some time in May, with his punishment likely to more than one hundred years in state prison. Richard Thornton would never harm another child again. Due to the possibility of flight risk, the convicted rapist was denied bail.

  Lance and Ricky sat in stony silence when Ryan told them the news, and then both simultaneously breathed a sigh of exhausted relief. Finally, that chapter of their lives, especially for Lance, had come to a close. Richard was out of his life forever.

  Later, Lance wondered if he should take Father Mike’s advice and forgive Richard for what he’d done, and discussed the possibility with Ricky. Ricky wasn’t so inclined, and so they decided to let it be for now.

  In the meantime, Reyna had been busy with her own brand of strong-arm politicking, and proudly displayed at the gathering in late May a fancy invitation from the President of the United States inviting Lance to dinner at The White House with whichever members of his team he chose to bring.

  The invite was on thick paper embossed with the presidential seal, the printing in fancy calligraphy. Lance had stared at it in awe when he’d first opened it, as the envelope had been addressed to him. He and Ricky almost giggled where it said, “The President and First Lady request the pleasure of the company of Sir Lance Pendragon and his Knights of the Round Table at a dinner to be held in their honor at the White House.”

  Lance shook his head in amazement. “No one ever requested the pleasure of my company before.”

  Ricky had laughed. “That’s cuz you’re Sir Dumbass. Obviously that part means me cuz I’m buffer and better looking.”

  Lance laughed and they bumped fists.

  The gathering went wild with applause when Reyna held up the invitation and, of course, everyone wanted to go. At that point, a smirking Reyna turned the meeting over to Lance and he grinned at her before stepping up to the microphone.

  “I know you all wanna go, but unfortunately I can’t take everybody,” he announced to groans and drooping expressions. “If I did, they’d lock down the silverware for sure.” That drew a laugh. Then Lance grew more serious. “Like you all know from the courthouse thing, Ricky and me and Dad are still under attack, and I’m sure that little bitch would be just as happy to kill us in Washington as here.”

  He paused to glance over at Ricky, felt rejuvenated and all-powerful, and then turned back to the crowd. “So, here’s who I’m taking with me,” he went on. “I talked things over with the king, and he and the queen will remain here with all of you to continue New Camelot business. I’ll take Ricky, Dakota, Kai, and Justin as protection, Reyna because she’d kill me otherwise, and Esteban because he’d kill me twice if Reyna went anywhere without him.”

  Reyna and Esteban, seated in the front row, grinned and clasped each other’s hands, while the crowd chuckled at Lance’s recitation of names.

  “While we’re gone,” Lance continued, “Sir Darnell will take over security duties for Sir Justin, and Sergeant Gibson will remain behind as law enforcement. Sergeant Ryan will go with me.” He paused and looked out at all the expectant faces. Most were teens already, and depending on how long it took to get the CBOR passed, many wouldn’t legally be kids anymore. But they had younger brothers and sisters, he knew, and it was for those kids they were fighting.

  “This is a big deal, going to the White House,” Lance said with a nod to Reyna seated before him. “But our own Lady Reyna and her parents pulled off something even bigger.” He turned to Ricky and waved the boy over. Ricky joined Lance and both surveyed their fellow knights. “Thanks to Reyna’s parents, who, I guess, donated a lot of money to their local congressman, Ricky and me have been invited to speak to what’s called a joint session of the congress.”

  He saw mostly blank faces gazing up at him, and smiled. “That was my reaction, too,” he said with a laugh. “It means we’ll be pitching our CBOR to both houses of congress at the same time. Usually they get together for presidential speeches and important stuff like that, but this time it’s just for us. Even the president and the Supreme Court will be there.”

  Now the crowd responded with shocked expressions and lots of animated murmuring.

  When the excitement quelled, Lance said, “Imagine a couple of street kids like
us, boys with long hair and messed up childhoods talking to the whole U.S. government at the same time. It’s crazy, and cuz it is so crazy I decided I’m gonna let Sir Ricky do all the talking.”

  He threw an arm around Ricky’s shoulders and laughed. Ricky looked mortified, which made Lance and everyone else laugh even more.

  “Seriously, though,” Lance went on, releasing Ricky and taking on that determined, intense look that made everyone take notice. “This is a big chance for us to convince those guys that kids need real rights in this country, and I’m gonna need all your hopes and prayers coming my way. Do I have them?”

  En masse, the room erupted with a resounding, “Yes, Sir Lance!” And then everyone burst into applause.

  Lance winked at a beaming Reyna and then turned to Ricky beside him. He leaned in and whispered, “I wasn’t kidding about you doing the talking, fool.”

  Ricky grinned and shoved him, but Lance looked at him so seriously Ricky’s smile faltered. Then Lance burst out laughing and Ricky visibly relaxed.

  †††

  Later that week, Reyna blew into the Computer Lab like a typhoon and sat down beside Lance, Ricky, Kai, and Dakota. As always, she looked stylish in her designer shirt and tight jeans. College classes were ending for both she and Esteban the following week and both would be free to go to Washington. Congress typically took the month of August off and Lance hoped to get them discussing the CBOR before the summer recess.

  “I’ve got everything arranged, baby boy,” she told Lance as she plopped heavily into one of the rolling computer chairs, guiding it with her feet so it playfully slammed into both Lance and Ricky’s at the same time.

  “Oh, cool,” Ricky said. “Bumper chairs.” He grinned and Reyna laughed.

  Lance elbowed Ricky and the other two sat watching, Dakota deadpan and Kai bemused. “So, sis, how long will it take to drive there?”

  Reyna eyed him a moment to see if he was kidding, and when she saw he wasn’t, she laughed. “We’re not gonna drive, baby boy, we’re flying.”

  If Reyna ever thought it possible for four teen boys with brown skin to get paler than those boys in front of her did at that moment, she never said. She merely gaped in stunned surprise as all four suddenly turned ghostly white with trepidation.

  “What?” she asked. Then she got it. “You’ve never been in a plane before?”

  All four heads shook soberly.

  She was about to say something snarky, but then recalled that she came from money while all four of these boys had grown up poor. Of course they’d never traveled in a plane before.

  She watched carefully as Lance locked eyes with Ricky and Kai with Dakota simultaneously.

  Kai found his voice first. “Is that safe?”

  Reyna smiled as warmly as she knew how. Lance had taught her how to give a smile that calmed rather than intimidated, and she tried for her best version. “It’s safer than driving.”

  Lance digested this information. He should’ve realized they’d have to fly, but the idea made him nervous. “What about our weapons?” he asked. “I know we can’t take anything like that on a plane. We need our bows and arrows, at least, ’specially these guys.” He pointed a thumb at Kai and Dakota, who nodded vigorously.

  Reyna grinned. “That’s the best part. Because of the death threats against you and the open investigation by the FBI, the president is sending Air Force Two to pick us up! Isn’t that just way cool?” She sounded practically giddy.

  “What’s Air Force Two?” Lance asked, confused. He’d heard of Air Force One, but…

  She shook her head in exasperation before recalling his upbringing and forcing herself to think like Jenny. Don’t rub it in when somebody doesn’t know something, she’d told Reyna many times before. Simply educate them. “That’s the vice president’s plane. We’ll have Secret Service protection and everything.”

  “Wow,” Lance said, taken aback, grinning and turning to Ricky. “That means you can be the Second Fool.” He laughed at Ricky’s scrunched face, and then the other boy shoved him hard.

  “Dumbass.”

  Reyna shook her head in wonder. “You two are something else. I’ve gotta go see Arthur and Jenny and finalize our plans.” She kissed air at them and then blew out of the Computer Room like a retreating tornado.

  The four boys turned as one and looked at each other, wide-eyed. Then three of them burst out laughing, with only Dakota scowling. Kai playfully shoved him. “C’mon, Sir Cloudy Boy, your name is Cloud Eagle. Flying should come easy to you.”

  That made Lance and Ricky chuckle, but Dakota said nothing. His narrowed eyes did widen a bit, which was at least a reaction.

  †††

  Mr. D.’s trial began the final week in May, but fortunately neither Lance nor Ricky had to testify and they did their best not to follow the proceedings. They were too busy training extra hard with bows and arrows for their trip to Washington. All the boys practiced diligently with the bow, even Justin, since they would only be permitted to carry those in Washington, though not, of course, inside The White House or the Capitol. They’d have Ryan and Secret Service protection within those venues. However, they were told that swords and knives would not be permitted anywhere within the District of Columbia because those weapons somehow violated the “no concealed carry permit” laws, which were supposed to apply only to guns. Lance merely shook his head at the weirdness of adults.

  The group was due in Washington the second week of June, with a busy schedule on tap: dinner at The White House their first night, Lance’s address to the joint session of Congress the next, and then a senator from Maryland, who they’d not met, but who’d apparently become enamored of the CBOR, arranged for his intern to give everyone a tour of Washington and surrounding environs. And they would also meet with any representatives or senators who were willing to see them.

  For Lance, the impending five-hours in a plane, even Air Force Two, caused more trepidation than anything else he’d be doing, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the lack of control he’d have over his own destiny at that point. He’d always been accustomed to keeping track of himself, and choosing what and whom to interact with, but in an airplane he was at the mercy of people he didn’t know, and that scared him.

  He and Ricky discussed the possibility of a terrorist-type attack on the plane, not from the usual extremists, but from their mysterious stalker. Would he want them dead that quickly? Given that they’d be heavily guarded in the vice-president’s plane, the only possible means of attack would be something like a missile strike. Did their stalker have that kind of money or power?

  Lance reviewed in his mind the messages the guy had sent, and finally concluded that it was unlikely he’d take them out in so boring a fashion. The mastermind behind all these attacks had promised to reveal himself before killing Lance, and had promised to “play” with him some more before the final death stroke. “So,” he told Ricky a couple of days prior to departure, “I don’t think he’ll try anything while we’re on the plane.”

  Ricky offered something between a smile and a smirk. “You soul-whispering on that asshole now, Lance?”

  Lance chuckled. “Yeah, something like that.”

  The following day, with everything packed and ready to go, the announcement came over the news that Mr. D. had been convicted on all counts of soliciting sex from minor children, lewd and lascivious acts with minors under the age of fourteen, and a host of other salacious charges the D.A. had brought against him. While his sentencing was set for another day, the speculation ran high that he would get upwards of fifty years to life in state prison.

  Lance watched the coverage, saw the shocked and stunned look on Mr. D.’s normally smug face as he was led from the courtroom in handcuffs, and whispered, “We got him, Jack. Your brother got him. Rest in peace. Both of you.”

  Ricky looked over, but when Lance said nothing more, he gently took the hand of the boy he loved and pulled him quietly out of the Throne Room to finish their
last minute packing.

  Reyna had gone shopping, as always, picking out luggage for all of them, including an enormous canvas bag designed for their archery equipment. Once Lance and Ricky, under Jenny’s watchful eye, had packed their things, they assisted Dakota and Kai, both of whom were uneasy at the prospect of going up in a plane, even more so than the equally inexperienced Lance and Ricky.

  While they were helping the Indians, Arthur and Jenny appeared at Dakota’s open door. They were dressed casually, both wearing sweatpants, which they’d begun wearing after dinner on a nightly basis, and t-shirts or in Jenny’s case a pull-over blouse of some kind. It still tickled Lance and Ricky to see their dad wearing such clothing, but since getting married he’d adopted many more modern ways.

  Both parents smiled and entered the room, eyeing the boys’ packing job appraisingly, Jenny, in particular. She’d practically hovered over Lance and Ricky to make sure they had “Enough underwear and socks and, oh, don’t forget your best tunics for the White House.” They loved her dearly, but she almost drove them crazy with all her suggestions. Ah well, they said to each other afterwards, thank God they had a mom who wanted to hover.

  Now her burgeoning motherly instincts swept over Kai and Dakota and she scanned their open suitcases for anything they might have forgotten. She amused herself from time to time with how “motherly” she’d become in such a short period of time, but found she loved every minute of the job. She fussed a bit and made sure the new boys also packed more underwear and socks, which made Kai blush and Dakota lower his eyes to the floor in embarrassment.

  She suddenly stopped rearranging their bags as silence filled the room. She looked up to find all the men, including Arthur, eyeing her with amusement. She laughed. “Can you blame me?” she asked with a grin at her two boys before settling her gaze on Kai and Dakota. “You two have been with us for six months now, can you believe that?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but added, “You’ve saved my sons’ lives twice already and as far as I’m concerned, that makes you my sons, too.”