Children of the Knight by Michael J. Bowler (book recommendations based on other books txt) 📖

“Can I come too?” Chris piped up, and Lance grinned down at the small boy who’d become his shadow.

“Sure, Chris, c’mon.” Chris leaped to his feet and grabbed Lance’s hand. Lance cast a quick grin toward Mark. Mark grinned back, and Lance set off with Chris into the tunnels.

Jack observed the silent exchange between Mark and Lance and settled into a funk. Mark nudged him playfully. “What’s wrong, my buff man?”

Jack looked up into those wide blue eyes, his own brimming with pain. “I saw you guys last night.” It was barely a whisper.

That caught Mark by surprise. “You were listening?”

Jack shook his head sadly. “I woke up, and you were gone. When I came looking, I saw you guys asleep with your arms around each other.” His fists clenched and his face took on a pained expression. “Did you, uh, hook up with him last night?”

Mark’s lower jaw dropped open. “Hell, no! He ain’t even gay, remember? We was just talking.”

“With your arms around each other?” Jack retorted snidely, fisting his tunic to control his shaking.

“He’s been through a lot, just like we have, and, I guess, we both needed some comfort.”

Jack gazed at Mark sadly. “I could comfort you. I always did before.”

“Jacky, nothin’ happened! What’s wrong with you these days? Don’t you like it here?”

Jack pulled up his knees and cradled them, looking down at the floor. “’Course I do. But sometimes… well, sometimes I miss those times on the street, you know, when it was just you an’ me, and I could protect you, and hold you, and make you feel better when some guy treated you like garbage.”

Mark grabbed Jack’s upper arm and squeezed affectionately. “You still protect me, big guy, and we’re still together, right? It’s just, well, now we got Arthur to protect us.”

Jack looked away again. “I know, but….”

“Remember on the streets, Jacky, what we always hoped for and wished for and talked about?”

Jack did not meet his eyes. “Yeah. A family that would accept us and love us.”

“Right,” Mark confirmed enthusiastically. “And we’ve found that here with Arthur and Lance and the others.”

Jack returned his gaze to Mark’s earnest face. “They don’ all accept us here, ’specially them gangsters. I been hearing ‘faggot’ whispered when I’m around.”

“So?” Mark replied, moving around to sit right in front of him and forcing their eyes to meet. “We’re always gonna hear that crap from somebody. But they won’t try anything here ’cause you’d crush ’em with these guns a yours.”

He squeezed Jack’s biceps and grinned, which sent a shiver of longing through Jack’s entire body.

“Look, Jacky, you’re my best bud and always will be. But we got a home now. We got Arthur, an’ he’s the best thing to ever happen to a guy. It’ll be great, you’ll see!”

His gushing enthusiasm finally won over Jack, who smiled and dropped his knees, grabbing the boy he loved in a tight hug. “You’re right, Marky Mark. I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“Well don’t,” Mark said against his shoulder as they held each other. “Arthur’ll take care of me.”

That made Jack frown, and his heart drooped even lower. It felt like he might be losing Mark after all, but not to Lance.

After lunch, the hundreds of kids of varying ages and backgrounds, including the few girls who usually clung to Reyna, gathered in The Hub and packed it so tightly it was a miracle anyone could even breathe. Arthur sat upon his throne, Lance seated by his side. Eager faces gazed up at the king expectantly.

“To all of thee I posit a question,” Arthur began when everyone had settled. “Do any of thee believe this city, indeed, this state and country, has at its core the best interests of children?”

Esteban cursed and shook his head.

Arthur gazed at him without malice, but with firmness, and obviously Esteban got the point.

“My bad, homie, it’s a habit.”

Arthur nodded. “One of an excessive number of bad habits taught to you by your parent’s generation.”

“How you mean?” Darnell put in. “My granny, she don’t cuss none at all.”

“And yet, in thine entertainment—which was not in existence in my time—the music and movies—are not these profane words utilized with frequency?”

Darnell shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“And are these entertainments for children be created by children, or by adults?”

Esteban nodded Arthur’s way. “Adults. So, what about it?”

“Do you know the meaning of the word ‘hypocrite’?” Arthur asked the assembly at large.

Reyna called out, “Yeah, my parents!”

The assemblage laughed.

“How so?” pressed Arthur.

All eyes turned to Reyna, as usual holding court in the rear. Esteban winked at her, but she ignored him. “My parents complain about poor people who don’t take good care of their kids and let ’em run wild, ’cept they do the same thing, right? Where are they now—partying in Italy while they pay me to stay here and do whatever I want.”

“Well said, Reyna,” Arthur replied. “Hypocrites decry behaviors they themselves do. Rich or poor, it doth not matter. All that be of importance is values.”

“Okay, Arthur,” said Esteban. “So what’s that got to do with music and movies and sh—stuff?”

“Alas, the very indecent activities and profane language children be punished for in this state be the very same activities most common in the entertainment for their usage.”

Esteban’s eyes lit up with understanding, and he turned to Darnell and the others with a revelatory look. “He’s right, homies. All the sh—stuff that’s in our music and movies, that’s the same stuff we get busted for and kicked outta school for and… even kicked outta the house for.” He glanced around at many nodding heads.

“What about all the grownups who abuse us kids, Arthur?” Lavern asked. “I know kids beaten by their folks, well, like me, and nuthin’ happens to the parents. But the kid beats on another kid smaller ’n ’im, and he goes to juvy.”

“Or prison,” Duc, the Korean gang member added. All eyes turned to him. “One a my homies tried to kill his mother’s boyfriend ’cause the guy used to beat the sh—crap outta him and her. Nuthin’ happened to that guy, but my homie’s down for twenty-five to life. He’s only fourteen, man.” Duc shook his head with anger, and further livid murmurings rippled through the chamber.

Arthur cleared his throat, and silence fell once more. The king eyed Lance beside him. He’d been attentively following the conversation, his own bitter life experiences rising in his throat like bile. “And what, Lance, do you think might improve the lot of children in this city?”

Lance considered a moment, and then the idea struck like lightning, something he’d considered from time to time, but had never articulated. “Methinks kids should be able to vote,” he announced, almost like a candidate running for election.

A ripple of excitement ran throughout the group.

“Yeah, right!” Tai, the Samoan boy, spat out. “Like that’ll ever happen.”

“And yet,” Arthur went on, “Lance makes an excellent point. According to the laws of adults, are not children considered to be as adults when they do something wrong, but not when they do something right?”

Now Esteban piped up again, looking excited. “Yeah, guys, he’s right. We ain’t adults today to vote for these ass—these idiots, but tomorrow we’re adults for being in a gang or using the guns they give us or gettin’ caught up in a crime. It’s pura paja!” He turned to Arthur. “Sorry, Arthur, but there ain’t no other word for it.”

“But there is,” Arthur assured him. “The correct word is stupid.” That got a laugh from the assemblage. “If a child of fourteen be an adult for criminal purposes, should not the same fourteen year old be an adult for the purposes of voting? Does that not seem fair, lads and ladies?”

There was a huge cheer from the crowd, and Lance grinned at Arthur, who acknowledged him with a nod.

“Esteban, Tai, Darnell, Jaime, Duc, and any others of you who belong to these gangs,” Arthur went on. “What be the benefits?”

Most shrugged, and Darnell just pointed to Esteban. “You tell ’im, cuzz. You the smart guy here.”

Esteban looked at Arthur. “We run our own, don’t gotta listen to the stupid adults. We got power in the streets—people’s scared a us. We got respect!” The others nodded. “But ya know, Arthur, the homies be like a family, like what you got going here. Most a us, well, there ain’t much at home, ya know? My moms, she tries, but she works two jobs and don’t have no time for me. She’s got my baby sister to mind.”

“Be there no father in thy home?” Arthur asked, suspecting the answer.

“Hell, no!” Esteban spat. “If I ever find that muther—my jefe, I’ll kill ’im!” Arthur looked troubled by Esteban’s virulent response troubled, but let it pass for now. “And what of thy baby sister’s father?”

Esteban shrugged. “Oh, he was just some guy my moms hooked up with. He didn’t stick around.”

“And does this hooking up be good behavior to teach children, or bad?” Arthur asked, his tone without judgment.

Esteban glowered a moment and looked like he was on the verge of losing it, but kept his cool. “It’s bad,” he reluctantly admitted, and no one challenged his assessment.

Most had had similar experiences with their own mom or dad, or even themselves. They’d never thought of it as being bad—hooking up was just something people did for fun, without thinking. They’d never considered the consequences before.

“So whadda we do about all this?” Esteban spoke again, forcing himself to stay calm. “There ain’t nuthin’ gonna change it.”

Heads nodded all around him. Even Reyna nodded her agreement.

Arthur stood and gestured for Lance to stand beside him. “We shall change it. All of us gathered here today. But we shall not begin with thine elected officials, nor thy corrupted school system, nor thy so-called peace officers. Nay, my lads and ladies, we shall begin where any revolution must needs begin—with the people.”

Excited murmuring wafted through the group, but no one even thought to argue. That’s why they were here, after all. They wanted something different. They needed something better. And they clearly hoped Arthur might be that something.