Kai frowned. “You don’t like it?”
Dakota seemed unable to speak a moment. Then, in a quiet, breathy voice he asked, “Is that how you see me?”
Kai lowered his gaze to the floor. “Well, yeah.” Then he looked back up and met Dakota’s uncertain eyes with his own. “Is that okay?”
Dakota hesitated, and then nodded slightly. “You see what’s not there, Laughs A Lot, but I accept the gift with gratitude.”
Kai finally smiled with relief, and Lance exchanged a look with Ricky.
Then Dakota did something that surprised all of them. He handed Lance the framed drawing, and reached around to untie the breastplate. He slipped it over his head and placed it around the neck of the astonished Kai.
“Wait, Cloudy Boy––”
But Dakota had already moved around behind Kai, gently shoved his braids out of the way, and tied the leather thong securely. Then he stepped back around to face his childhood friend. Lance handed him back the framed drawing and observed as the two young men looked solemnly at one another.
“I made that with my own hands,” Dakota said quietly. “It is the symbol of a warrior. I was wrong, Sir Laughs A Lot. You are a warrior, and a better man than I will ever be.”
With that he turned, passed through the crowd without another word, and exited the Throne Room.
Lance, Ricky and Kai exchanged bewildered looks as they watched him retreat.
“What did I say?” Kai asked helplessly, suddenly looking lost and bereft.
Lance eyed him knowingly. “It’s not you, Kai, it’s him.”
“Do you know what the problem is, soul whisperer?” Ricky asked with a raise of his eyebrows.
Lance frowned. “Not yet, but I will.”
Ricky fell silent. He knew too well how emo Lance could get, especially when he fell into the soul whisper mode.
“Maybe I should go talk to him,” Kai suggested.
Lance shook his head. “Let it go for now, Kai.”
Kai looked reluctant, but sighed heavily. “Okay.”
“Let’s get some more cake ’fore Este eats it all,” Ricky suggested, and the other two followed him through the crowd to the refreshments table.
†††
The following week Lance and Ricky accompanied Arthur back to Boyle Heights. At the insistence of the president, Secret Service agents outfitted Arthur, Lance, and Ricky with full upper body bulletproof vests to wear under their tunics. The boys protested, but Jenny insisted, and so did Arthur. The vests were uncomfortable and Lance worried they would restrict his movements if he needed to fight or even fire an arrow at a moment’s notice. Ricky complained about the same, but Ryan insisted the word came down from the president himself and there could be no argument.
Once again, Lance found himself wondering what happened to freedom in this country, even for adults. Yeah, he knew the aim was good––to protect him and Ricky and their Dad from harm––but shouldn’t the choice be left up to them? Why should the government have that much power?
Rather than make a big deal out of it, he insisted that his mother and Chris be outfitted since they would also be making the neighborhood tours. Chris thought the big vest was “Super cool,” and Jenny merely grimaced as she squirmed within her own.
Because Esteban was usually at New Camelot conducting business, Jaime had been put in charge, and had overseen the mayor’s programs within Boyle Heights, a vast area east of downtown Los Angeles where, pre-Arthur, violence was a daily occurrence. Accompanying the family were Reyna and Esteban, but also Justin and Bridget, which surprised Lance. Since school had let out, she’d been to New Camelot almost daily, shadowing Justin on his various security duties. Ariel, he knew, was back at New Camelot with Techie in the Computer Lab. It cracked Lance up that Ariel, never known to be a computer nerd until she met Techie, now wanted to major in computer studies in college. Yeah, he realized as he glanced over at Ricky beside him, love will make you do almost anything.
The Secret Service insisted on driving the boys and Arthur in one car, Jenny and Chris in another. The rest followed in Reyna’s black, stylish Escalade, now hers by ownership––a gift from her parents. They found Jaime, Sonia and Little Arturo awaiting them at Esteban’s house, along with Esteban’s mother and sister.
As they exited the car, baby Arturo, eighteen months old, waddled up to Lance for a hug. Beaming with delight, Lance bent and scooped the toddler into his arms and kissed him on the cheek. “Hi Lanie,” the boy said excitedly, still unable to pronounce the “ce.”
Lance laughed. For reasons only Ricky seemed to understand, Arturo had taken a shine to Lance immediately, and every time Jaime brought him to New Camelot the little one wanted Lance to hold him. Even as a baby.
“Come estas, Arturo?” Lance asked with a grin.
Arturo’s round, cherubic face broke into a huge smile. “Bien,” he answered with an emphatic nod of his small head.
This was the first time Arthur and Lance had been in the neighborhood since it had kicked off their internationally famous Cleanup Tour, and they were major celebrities. Everyone spilled from homes and nearby storefronts to welcome the king and his son, and all the other visiting knights. They eyed the black-clad, sunglassed Secret Service agents with suspicion, but otherwise there was a festive party atmosphere felt by all. The elderly abuelita hugged Lance and Arthur, and the proprietor of what was now the most famous Round Table Pizza in the world presented Arthur with a ceremonial meatball pizza on which all the meatballs were in the shape of little crowns.
Esteban’s mom hugged her son and Reyna warmly. Little Rosa had grown so much Lance barely recognized her. She looked healthy and happy as she threw her arms around Reyna and looked like she’d never let go. It seemed Reyna had indeed gotten the little sister she’d always wanted, Lance happily thought, as he nudged Ricky with a grin.
And Mayor Soto joined them, as well. He was anxious for the king to witness all the success that his people, in conjunction with the locals and Arthur’s knights, had brought to this and many other communities throughout the city. The short, round politician beamed at Lance as he stepped from his car and approached with one of his aides in tow.
Lance had already handed Arturo back to Sonia to shake hands with the other residents, and now turned to greet the man. He grinned, noting with surprise that he was even taller than the last he’d stood beside the mayor at the wedding, by at least three or four inches. The mayor noticed, too, as he looked up at Lance’s grinning face and shook his head in wonder. They hugged warmly, and then the mayor eyed the boy with admiration.
“Another Lincolnesque performance in Washington, Lance,” he said, and then added with a laugh, “I mean your handling of Congress, not skating over President Kennedy’s speech.”
Lance laughed, too, knowing the man was only jesting. Thus began a day of celebratory reunions and glowing pride from Jaime and the others in Boyle Heights. The homes and buildings remained mostly graffiti-free. If gang members sought to claim a street or a building, the locals, usually led by one of Arthur’s young adult knights, instantly painted over it and reclaimed the area for freedom. Jaime, now almost nineteen and still working for Homeboy Industries, in addition to overseeing the makeover of Boyle Heights, took Arthur and the others on a tour of the various Children’s Centers that had been set up in every neighborhood.
They’d gotten a lot of help from community leaders associated with Dolores Mission Catholic Parish, as well as local citizens who, now that so many youth were openly rejecting gang affiliation in favor of community rebuilding, saw results that were staggeringly successful. Kids in crisis could be referred by their schools or even parents to these Children’s Centers, which were connected to mental health and other services on an immediate basis, so the problems weren’t allowed to fester into drug use or suicide attempts as had so often been the case prior to Arthur and Prop 51.
Jaime and the mayor displayed a relaxed, easy rapport, often joking with each other as they re
counted funny stories about this neighborhood or that one, and Arthur was thrilled to see the long-term effects of what he’d begun taking root so strongly. Lance and Ricky continually marveled at the happy, positive feeling bubbling up from all the people they met. No, these neighborhoods weren’t suddenly rich, and neither were the people. But now they had hope of a better future for themselves and their children, a future they were actively helping to bring about. And that excited them immensely.
Kai and Dakota flanked Lance and Ricky protectively, marveling at what could be done when the government worked with the people and the kids toward a unified goal. Both lamented the pathetic state of their own, and other Indian reservations across the country, and longed for this kind of renewal. Lance promised that when they began travelling the country, they would visit Kai and Dakota’s reservations, and also hammer home the poverty issue to every federal official they encountered. They encouraged the Indians to send pictures back home, and to every Indian publication or website, to spread the word about what could be done. They could inspire the Indian youth across the country to stand up and take charge, as had the youth of L.A.
Kai thought it a great idea, but Dakota was taciturn and remote as always, and shrugged noncommittally. Ever since his birthday, Dakota had been more withdrawn than ever, though Lance had noted he’d hung the framed drawing Kai had given him in a place of honor above his bed back at New Camelot. Lance observed his friend whenever possible for signs Dakota might be drinking again, but hadn’t seen any recently. There was just so much to do every day he feared he’d lose touch with the other knights, those he was supposed to lead and inspire, like Arthur had inadvertently done back in the beginning. That, he knew, had almost led to the downfall of everything. It had almost killed him. And it had killed Mark and Jack.
I can’t get like that, he swore to himself that day as he eyed Dakota when the other wasn’t aware. I can’t lose touch or I’ve failed, and then everything will come crashing down like it did before.
All in all, it was a grand day of reunions and successes and lots of well-deserved kudos for a job well done. Arthur expressed his immense pride in Jaime, in particular, for spearheading the operation over such a vast area, especially in neighborhoods that used to consider him a dangerous thug. Jaime, who always wore a tunic in public, turned red around the ears when Arthur threw an arm over his shoulders and told the crowd of onlookers, “This is an outstanding man right here and I could not be more proud of him if I tried.” The crowd agreed with loud applause.
By the time Arthur and the family returned to New Camelot, it was almost time for dinner, so everyone retired to his or her room to get ready.
†††
Thus began a hectic few months. Mornings were spent in school and then in the Computer Lab, as Lance and Ricky communicated with this representative’s or that senator’s office, and maintained their relationship with the children of these elected officials. Reyna and Esteban––when they didn’t have college classes––helped coordinate the schedule of neighborhood visits. Dakota and Kai, with Techie’s invaluable assistance, made contact with every online Native site and Indian publication they could find and shared the success Arthur and company had achieved in the poorest neighborhoods of L.A. They encouraged the young people of the various tribes to step up and take charge of their own destiny. Most didn’t have Internet access, so viewing Arthur’s website and Facebook page was a problem, but those who could get online promised to spread the word locally amongst the youth and start a “tribal revolution,” as Kai called it.
Lance and Ricky became so busy every day with senior coursework and CBOR business in the mornings, afternoon visits to various neighborhoods, and then evening homework, that they seldom had time for any personal drama or even much for just being together, which bothered them immensely when they had the energy to give it some thought.
Lance vowed one night, “Once the CBOR is passed, I’m quitting politics for good.”
Ricky, head in Lance’s lap as always, with Macbeth in his hands, grinned slyly up at the boy he loved. “Does that mean you changed your mind about running for president?”
Lance smirked down at him. “Does that mean you changed your mind about being First Fool?”
Ricky laughed. “Good point.”
Arthur and his family continued to suit up in their bulletproof body vests every weekday afternoon to tour the city. Most of the time Mayor Soto came along, but always the tours were led by his knights, like Darnell, Tai, Duc, and every other knight who’d agreed to organize the operation in his or her neighborhood. Lance got a big hug from the older African-American man who had stood up to the drug-addled Dwayne when Arthur and his knights sought to enter Watts for the first time, and he was happy to see the man, and the neighborhood, looking much better.
Lance was especially heartened to see how much improved Hawthorne and Lennox had become since his last visit. Enrique and Luis had taken charge of the effort. Both graduated that summer and had been spending every afternoon since December working with the mayor of Hawthorne to implement changes that would help the kids in the city. They’d taken it upon themselves to contact the man and offer New Camelot’s services, which the mayor was only too happy to accept.
Lance showed Ricky the mural of him and Arthur that Enrique had painted so long ago in Eucalyptus Park. He noticed that someone, fortunately, had painted neatly over the grafittied “Youth Sucks” that he’d scrawled there the night of Mark’s death. He felt wistful and sad as those memories flooded back in, and Ricky wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. Unable to leave the area without at least one turn on the swings, Lance got Arthur and Ricky to join him, while Jenny snapped pictures with her phone. As it had the first night he’d shared this experience with Arthur, the moment filled Lance with joy and peace.
Mark Twain High School welcomed them with open arms. The construction had mostly been completed in front and now new classroom buildings were rising in back near the swimming pool. Enrique proudly displayed a large mural he and Luis had spearheaded on the side of the cafeteria. A large group of MTS students had worked tirelessly on the project. It depicted their most famous student, Lance, wielding his sword and slashing his way through the words “ignorance”, “discrimination”, “conformity,” and “apathy” with the school’s Cougar mascot in the background.
But Lance’s biggest surprise came when the president of Student Council, a pretty, effervescent senior named Ana, invited he and Ricky to attend the Senior Prom next May, despite the boys being home schooled by Jenny.
“You’re, like, the most famous kid we ever had here,” the girl gushed, “and you guys are so cool. We’d be, like, so stoked if you came.”
Lance and Ricky looked at each other in shock, and then smiled broadly. “Thanks,” Lance told her happily. He’d never considered the idea of going to prom, but as he pictured himself going on a real date, he felt almost giddy. “That’d be awesome!”
The girl practically jumped for joy. “Oh, that is so cool! We’ll message you on Facebook the date and everything. Wow, I can’t wait to tell everyone!” Then she was off and running back to the student council room. Arthur and Jenny joined the principal in a laugh.
During their many neighborhood visits that summer, Mayor Soto explained to the boys how the law of unintended consequences had kicked in big time for Los Angeles. After so many weeks of seeing very little gang graffiti, Lance finally thought to ask the mayor and the local knights what happened to the older gang members who used to roam those areas recruiting kids. Soto informed them that, apparently frustrated by the lower number of kids currently interested in gang membership, the leadership seemed to have moved their recruiting efforts out of the city, to places like Covina and Pomona where gangs were now on the rise. But since he had no jurisdiction in those areas, it would have to be up to any local youth, in solidarity with Arthur’s Round Table, to spearhead changes for something positive to occur. He’d offered the mayors of surrounding ci
ties any and all access to the programs L.A. had put in place. Other than that, he could do nothing.
As the summer wore on, weekends were the only down time for Lance and Ricky, and even for Arthur and Jenny. The pool got a lot of use since it was a hot summer, in the nineties most days and often over one hundred during the infamous dog days of August, and so roughhousing in the pool became a weekend ritual for the family. Almost always Kai and Dakota joined the boys, and it was funny to see them, especially Dakota, acting like little kids. They wrestled, learned to do cannonballs from Ricky so they could splash the adults lounging poolside, and played chicken against each other. Lance continually marveled at how strong Dakota was, especially since he wasn’t terribly large. He was just wiry as hell and amazingly powerful when put to the test, and he saw Ricky was impressed, as well.
But Kai was the one who seemed unable to resist peeking whenever he thought Dakota wasn’t looking. Unlike Dakota, Kai did not sport much in the way of muscle. He’d been into art growing up, and looked almost skinny in his swim trunks. Unfortunately, Kai also snuck frequent looks at Ricky’s body, and that sent Lance’s jealousy meter swinging wildly, even though he’d promised Ricky it would not. If either boy noticed, Kai quickly glanced away. Kinda like me with Jack, Lance thought. And Michael.
Of course, he never got tired of seeing Ricky in board shorts, and it felt so good not to have to pretend as he’d done with the others. And he couldn’t blame Kai for his attraction, but he wished the boy could find someone to love the way he’d found Ricky. Mainly, he wished Kai wouldn’t keep looking at Ricky that way, period. Especially since he knew Ricky was flattered by the attention. But, he supposed with a sigh as he watched Ricky execute another cannonball, he’d have to get used to that. Ricky was gorgeous, inside and out, and both girls and guys would always be interested in him.
Lance had to force the jealousy from his mind before he “emo’d-out” again. He fixed his eyes on Dakota once more. The Indian still puzzled him. He knew they shared a lot in common at an elemental level, and not just their inability to handle alcohol. Lance watched the other boy as often as he could without seeming to spy, and had to admit Dakota was the most difficult person besides Michael he’d ever tried to soul-whisper. As with Michael, however, he knew he’d figure out the truth eventually. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late for him to be of help.
And The Children Shall Lead Page 33
