And The Children Shall Lead

by Michael J. Bowler

  He paused a moment as every eye fixed on him with wide, stunned expressions. No one was fidgeting now, or even glancing down at their laps. They were riveted.

  “Some of you,” Lance went on soberly, “think government is the answer, that government will step in and take care of kids like me, to, you know, protect us from bad parents. ’Cept you guys don’t even know what your own kids are doing, so how can you protect me? I already know what government can do. It put me in homes where I got raped and abused, locked in closets, and forced to wear old clothes. Yeah, that’s what government can do for kids. Government won’t even let Native children who get raped and kidnapped legally fight back against that stuff. If people are selfish and careless, then so is government cuz government is people, right?”

  His eyes passed across the stunned expressions of America’s lawmakers seated before him.

  “A lot of us kids don’t have it so good in this country, and that’s why my father, King Arthur, came along, to make things better for us. Because of him, L.A. isn’t the hellhole it was when I was growing up. It’s better. It’s cleaner, there’s less drugs and not so much crime. And you know what? He did it by bringing us together instead of pushing us apart. A lot of these kids were in gangs, like Este and Justin with me today. They used to be enemies. They even tried to hurt me. Now they’d take a bullet for me. You all think kids join gangs for fun or because they wanna be criminals? Get real. They join cuz there’s no other choices. All you give them is school, and the school system is out of touch with reality. We have no choices there, either. At least with our bill of rights, kids will know that when the adult world fails them, they still have rights under the law. All those gang kids we have in the Round Table left the hood behind cuz my Dad gave them a real way out, a way to make a difference and be part of life, not separate from it.”

  He swept his eyes over them.

  “My Dad did all that without your help, or even the help of the local mayor. In fact, the mayor tried to stop us cuz we made him look bad. He didn’t care that life sucked for us kids. He just wanted to get reelected. I’ve even heard a rumor there are other politicians like that.”

  A few scattered laughs followed his joke, but Lance didn’t smile.

  “Our children’s bill of rights is not a joke or a ploy for attention,” he went on. “Trust me, I’ve had more than enough attention over the past couple of years to last forever.” He earned a few chuckles and even some scattered applause. “You know a lot more about me than I know about you. And my life experience in this country isn’t that unusual, sadly. We’ve heard from kids in every state talking about how they have no rights and adults have all the power. Things were different, I’m pretty sure, when the Founding Fathers wrote the Constitution. Probably most parents took good care of their kids. I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

  That engendered another nervous laugh.

  “We’re property in this country,” Lance said somberly, “and… I know a lot of you are gonna be insulted by this, but here goes. I think you want to keep the option of aborting us right up until the moment we turn eighteen and finally become human beings, and have real civil rights under the law.”

  There were gasps and many shakes of the head and glowering faces throughout the chamber, but Lance pressed on. “The lives of children don’t matter when they interfere with what grown-ups want. That’s just how it is. There are many of you who want to say we’re adults if we commit a crime, but we’re not adult enough to have any other rights. What kind of society says its kids only have the right to go to prison for life? If that’s not aborting us, what is it?”

  That remark drew more scowls and a lot of squirming, but Lance didn’t care.

  “And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Ricky.”

  Ricky stepped nervously forward and leaned in to the mic. Lance placed a comforting hand on his arm as Ricky described some of the crimes against children that had been sent to them from all across the fifty states. Some were seemingly small, like parents forcing their son to participate in a girl’s quincienera against his will, even though that commitment required him to give up all of his free time for two straight months. Others were downright preposterous, like a school suspending a first grader because he bit his Pop Tart into the shape of a gun, or the middle school boy who’d been suspended for dying his hair green and the school ordered him to go back to his natural color or he would remain on suspension.

  Other episodes would be clear violations of the First Amendment if the accused had been an adult, like the case of some American kids in a California school who got suspended for wearing American flag shirts because the principal was afraid it would offend immigrant students. There were stories from kids who’d been beaten or abused in foster homes or group homes, kids who were bullied nonstop at school for being gay and the school would only “talk” to the bullies; there were kids who got punished by their parents for listening to “the wrong music,” and even kids in high school who got suspended for bringing their own lunch from home, because they were required to eat the school food.

  And of course he explained about the Native children having no rights against rape and removal from their families which, Lance noted by some of the facial expressions among the lawmakers, was apparently unknown to them. Ricky told story after story for fifteen solid minutes and never wavered once. Lance was proud of him for his aplomb since he knew how much Ricky hated public speaking. Then Ricky turned to Lance with a nod and stepped back from the microphone.

  Lance stepped forward. “Whether you all take us seriously or not, your children do, and so do millions of kids across this country,” he said in a calm, collected tone of voice. “We’re willing to work with you if you have problems with our amendments, but how can we work with you when you don’t even bother to read them? Isn’t that proof alone how seriously adults take children? Here you are, the most powerful people in the world and you couldn’t even take ten minutes to read a document Ricky and me poured our hearts and souls into drafting.” He looked forlornly out at them. “Do yourselves a favor, please. Talk to your kids. No, I take that back. Listen to them. Your kids aren’t stupid, and we aren’t either. Even your kids who come from good homes know life is not fair for children in this country.”

  Lance lifted his eyes and offered that angelic smile everyone in the world loved. “That’s your homework assignment, class,” he said with a chuckle, and many in the chamber nervously joined him. “To listen to your kids about our bill. When we contact you for your support, or your reasons for not supporting, we wanna know how those talks went, and why you agree or don’t agree with your own children.”

  He glanced over at Ricky and caught ‘the look’, and, once more feeling all-powerful, turned back to the microphone. “We, the young people of the United States of America, in order to form a more perfect union, hereby seek under the Constitution the same rights and privileges you and every other adult have had since that document was drafted. We wish to become real human beings under the law, with civil rights no one can ever take away. We wish to finally, more than two hundred years later, become real citizens of this greatest country in the world. Thank you for your time and your attention.”

  The boys stepped from behind the podium, and, as Arthur had always modeled, bowed respectfully to the assembled lawmakers. Suddenly the vice president leapt up behind them clapping.

  “Aren’t they great!” he gushed excitedly. “C’mon, kids, stand up and take a bow!”

  The two boys turned to the man agape, and he suddenly seemed to realize his error. “Oh, of course, you’re already standing. Well, take another bow, boys!”

  Lance and Ricky laughed and turned back to the crowd. But the vice president seemed to have broken the spell of silence and, like the wave at a baseball game, the lawmakers began standing and applauding, some lightly, others with great enthusiasm.

  Lance glanced down at the front row and saw the knights and Ryan on their feet, clapping louder than anyone else.
The Supreme Court justices were also on their feet, applauding with gusto.

  Lance turned to eye the president, who stood grinning at him with respect while he clapped. The chief executive gestured for the boys to step down off the dais and into the aisle where suddenly they were engulfed by men and women extending their hands and congratulating them. The justices seemed especially impressed by the boys’ speech and told them so. As they made their way slowly down the aisle to the back exit, lawmakers from both parties extended their hands and praised their impassioned words. Some congratulated them on catching everyone off guard with their truth or dare questions.

  They felt so overcome by mixed emotions––elation, nervousness, pride, and terror––that Lance and Ricky could later recall little of that long, protracted exit from the House chamber, which seemed to take forever as they were stopped along the way by this senator or that representative.

  Finally they were at the rear door and Edwin was there, beaming with a goofy grin on his face. “Wow, you guys knocked ’em dead! I’ve never seen those people so rattled before. Usually everybody’s all PC and nicey nicey, but you nailed ’em.”

  He laughed and shook both their hands. The boys grinned in response to his gushing reaction, and suddenly felt overcome with exhaustion. The crushing weight of what they’d just done almost sent them to the floor in a dead faint.

  Noting their nervous fatigue, Edwin led them back to the waiting room where they plopped down on the sofa and sat in a daze. Edwin left to bring the others back. Absorbing the monumental nature of what they’d done, Lance and Ricky simply sank into the softness of the couch and allowed their fingers to intertwine.

  The door flew open and Reyna burst in, followed by Esteban and the others. They swamped the boys with backslapping and congratulations and running commentary about how everyone was still talking and arguing with each other after the boys left the chamber. Kai laughingly told them some of the senators promised to “Look into that Native American problem,” and Lance shook his head in amazement.

  “Did they offer you buffalo meat too?”

  Kai laughed again and shoved the scowling Dakota. But then Lance jumped up and threw his arm around Dakota’s shoulders, grinning. “C’mon, Dakota, at least a smile for what we did today.”

  Dakota met Lance’s wide-eyed expression, and a shy smile crept across his lips. “My people are grateful.”

  Lance pulled him in and yanked Ricky up from the couch. Then Ricky pulled Kai into the mix. “Our people,” Lance affirmed. “The Native Knights.” Then all four gave a loud war whoop that set everyone else to laughing.

  At this point, Edwin stepped forward and said, “Senator Cairns would like to meet with you all in his office, if that’s okay.”

  The four boys released one another, and Lance grinned. “That’d be great.”

  And so they followed Edwin out and down to the underground tunnel leading from the house side to the senate side, which took about ten minutes to traverse. But Lance and Ricky needed the exercise after such an intense afternoon, and welcomed the lengthy walk.

  †††

  They found Senator Cairns waiting in his office when they arrived. He stood and stepped from behind a large, ornate wooden desk that put the one in Mayor Soto’s office to shame. There were fine art prints adorning the walls and several large, comfortable-looking chairs for people to sit and chat.

  The senator was of average height, maybe forty, Lance surmised, with short dark hair, well-groomed, and small brown eyes that squinted happily as he smiled.

  “Well, well, here’s the boy who came back and the boy who wants to change the Constitution,” he said with a grin as he extended his hand.

  With a laugh, Lance reached out to shake it. “Not change, Senator, just amend, like it’s s’posed to be done.”

  The senator laughed and shook hands with Ricky, who playfully nudged Lance with his shoulder and said, “Just call him what the mayor of L.A. does––young Mr. Lincoln.”

  Cairns released Ricky’s hand and grinned approvingly. “Young Mr. Lincoln it is.”

  Looking embarrassed, Lance shoved Ricky and shook his head. Then Edwin introduced the rest of the group and brought in chairs from the outer office so everyone could sit.

  When all were seated, Lance looked at the man, now seated behind his desk, and tried his soul whispering. The man’s eyes seemed to hide nothing, but Lance knew these politicians became experts at shining people on. “So, senator, what did you think of our speech?”

  The man chuckled. “It was masterful. Especially that truth or dare bit.” He laughed. “I think I was the only one who knew my kids were in contact with you. The looks on everyone else’s face will be Internet fodder for months, especially since your speech ran live. Oh, I can’t wait to watch it.”

  Lance and Ricky grinned.

  Cairns went on to explain that he was the junior senator from Maryland and had only been in office for three years, “So a lot of the old-timers don’t take me seriously. But, having said that, I believe in your CBOR, as you call it, and I’ll do my best to push it through some committees for consideration.”

  The boys thanked him, and then the senator asked questions of the entire group, about their lives before and after joining the Round Table, and said he’d like to meet Arthur some day and thank him personally. Cairns seemed genuine enough to Lance, who decided to reserve final judgment on the senator’s character until he’d spent more time around him.

  Cairns did say he would keep in regular contact with Lance and Ricky via email, and would send them names of senators and representatives he felt were more centrist and might get the ball rolling for the CBOR. He reminded them that they really had Edwin to thank for “Dragging me into all this.” He laughed. “Edwin is an outstanding intern and will make a great senator himself one day.”

  Edwin made a goofy face and chuckled, and Lance detected a trace of hero worship in the young man for the senator.

  Everyone thanked Cairns for arranging their tour of Washington the following day, and for lending them Edwin.

  Edwin eyed Lance in particular. “He’s not lending anything. I told him I’d quit if he didn’t let me hang out with you tomorrow.”

  “He did,” Cairns confirmed. “See how indispensable he is? He can even blackmail me.” He laughed, and Edwin shrugged.

  With that, they said their goodbyes and made the long trek back through the tunnel to the underground garage, and then battled late afternoon traffic returning to their hotel. Edwin bade them goodbye and told them he’d bring the limo around at nine the next morning, promising them a fun day they’d never forget.

  †††

  The group went to Buca de Beppo Italian restaurant that night for dinner because it was a funky, loud place with tons of food and a freewheeling atmosphere. Everyone sat around a huge table, and the food was served in gigantic bowls or plates big enough to feed four people. There were laughs and excited talk from everybody but Justin. Lance kept noting the big boy glancing up from his food and eyeing him in a peculiar way throughout the meal. He didn’t join in the fun, nor could Esteban or Reyna get a laugh out of him.

  Finally, halfway through the meal, Justin rose from the table and made his way around to the opposite side where Lance and Ricky were goofing around tasting each other’s pasta.

  “Uh, hey, Lance,” Justin stammered, his eyes downcast. “Can I, uh, talk to you outside a minute? It’s important.”

  All conversation ceased to observe Justin’s odd behavior. The brawny boy had almost shrunk into himself, barely able to meet Lance’s eyes as he spoke.

  Lance eyed Ricky a moment and then turned back to Justin. “Sure, man.”

  He stood and followed Justin between tables toward the door, looking back once with a shrug before exiting the noisy restaurant and stepping off to one side of the entrance, where Justin stood shuffling his feet and looking down at the sidewalk.

  “Uh, so, what’s up, big guy?” Lance asked uncertainly. He’d
never seen the supremely confident Justin look so small and weak. Then it occurred to him. “Is Bridget okay?”

  Justin looked up at that. “Bridget’s awesome. No, it’s you, somethin’ you said today during your speech.”

  He stopped and looked down again, causing Lance to shift uncomfortably. He didn’t like seeing the other boy so distressed. It unnerved him. “Yeah, about what?”

  Still gazing intently at the sidewalk like it held all of life’s answers, Justin said, “When you said how I almost hurt you, but now I’d take a bullet for you?”

  Still mystified, Lance tried for jest. “You mean you wouldn’t take a bullet for me?”

  Now Justin looked up, his eyes wide, his mop of hair wafting in the warm summer breeze. “Hell, yeah, I would.”

  Lance frowned. “I was joking, man. What’s up?”

  Justin’s face, so hard and unfeeling when Lance had first met him, now dissolved into an expression of intense guilt. “I almost kilt you, Lance, that night in the ally with Dwayne,” he said, his voice low and whispery and sad. “I almost let him cut yer throat. Only reason yer still here is cuz Arthur showed up.”

  Lance remembered that night all too well. Man, that seemed like forever ago, but it was only what, three years back? So much had happened… He looked soberly at the guilt-ridden Justin. “It’s all good, man. We’re brothers now, right?”

  Justin nodded. “’Cept I never said I was sorry, man. Shit, Lance, I was such a puffed up asshole back then, thinking I was all big and hard, working for R, rolling in all that cash. I thought I could do anything, even kill people. Do ya think ya could, like, forgive a fuckup like me?”

  Lance gazed into the young man’s face, and noted how much he’d begun to resemble his dad as he’d gotten older. Justin looked so stricken, so pathetic and sorrowful that Lance felt bad for him. He flashed his smile and put a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “I already have, man. That’s why yer my brother.”