You know the drill - this is Nifty. rdavid889@gmail.com
"Wow!" (I seemed to be saying that a lot lately).
We both stood there with our eyes bugging out. We couldn't see where he'd landed, there were too many shrubs in the way. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, so the Matthews didn't know that they had a, (maybe), dead body on their hands.
I felt like I was rooted to the spot, but Chalky didn't. He took off out the door, yelling, "Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Come on, Davey, hurry up! Ohmigod!"
I threw some clothes on and followed him down, a bit reluctantly. I didn't want to see blood and guts and everything. We climbed up on the compost bin and jumped the fence again. I still felt like Old Man Hollister was going to come roaring out and shoot us or something.
We went around the hedges to where we could see the side of the house and the blue- haired kid was there. He was fine - there was no blood and stuff. He had his back to us as we approached and he completely ignored us.
He was busy re-assembling the big heap of the empty cardboard boxes, straightening them out and re-stacking them. He sang as he worked.
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly."
We watched quietly as he finished rebuilding the stack and spreading a couple of old blankets across the top. Then, he turned around and looked at us. He didn't smile like people would normally, like we did, nervously, but he didn't frown either. His face was just blank - no expression at all. But what a face! He was just beautiful. If you can call a boy beautiful, then he was.
The long blue hair was strange. The flawless milky-white skin was odd and so were his eyes. They were all black, no 'whites' or other colours at all. But everything was in perfect proportions and he was the most stunningly good-looking person that I'd ever seen. I thought his sister, Tease, (well, cousin really), was good-looking, but she couldn't compare to this boy. She was not in the same league at all.
"Wow!" (Again).
There was something other-worldly about this boy. If I was going to picture an angel, it would look just like him. Apart from the blue hair of course.
I just stood there gulping, eyes hanging out again, but Chalky soon recovered. He stepped forward with his hand out and smiling.
"Hey. You must be Carter. We're your neighbours. I'm Chalky and this is Davey."
The kid didn't move, he didn't react at all - not even a flicker on his beautiful face. I think that he looked at me, but it was hard to tell. Then he walked away and disappeared inside.
"Well." Chalky shrugged. "Friendly Sod, isn't he? You can see me, can't you, Davey?"
"Yeah, of course I can see you. Come on, we'd better get back. I think he's going to do it again."
We stood back well clear of the landing pad and waited, but nothing happened. We couldn't see up on the roof from down there, so we moved back down to the end of their yard. He was up there again, standing on the top ridge with his arms outstretched and hair blowing around - like a blue-haired angel had just landed on the roof.
We stood there and waited, watched and waited, but nothing was happening. Chalky sat down on the grass. I just stood there quietly. A couple of the other kids, John and Mark, saw us there in their back-yard, and they came down to see what we were doing.
"Hey Neighbours," Mark said. "You're back again. What's up?"
I nodded and pointed up at the boy on the roof. "Umm. Hey. That's what's up."
They turned and looked. John said, "Oh. That's just Carter. Don't worry about him."
"Don't worry about him?!!" Chalky yelled. "Don't worry? That's a bloody long way down. What if he misses the boxes?"
"Carter wouldn't hurt himself," said John. "He never does."
Mark agreed. "And he wouldn't tell you if he did. Carter's like a mad scientist, except he's not a scientist."
"You mean he's mad then? Is that what he is?"
"Mad? No, I don't think so. Carter's just different, he's just Carter. Mum had him tested once, by psychologists or something."
"What did they say?"
"We don't think they knew what to make of him. Nobody does. He's not mad though, he's just Carter. He's very bright really, they think."
I thought that Carter would have to be the most interesting person I'd ever seen. "What's with the hair? I'm sure it wasn't blue the last time I saw him."
"It probably wasn't. He changes his hair colour all the time, whenever he feels like it. Sometimes he changes his skin and dyes that as well. I think my favourite was when his was black - like totally black with white hair. He looked like a negative."
"And he just does it for no reason? What about his eyes? They're all black, that can't be natural."
"He might have a reason, who would know? He changes his eyes as well. Before you ask, he's got all these coloured contact things."
John and Mark went back inside. We stood and waited. Carter just stood up there, and then he climbed down and went inside as well, and we didn't see him again.
Feeling let down and horribly disappointed, we went home. I'd really wanted to see Carter fly off the roof again, but, as we were learning, the only thing you could be sure of about Carter was that you could never be sure of anything about him.
Sunday morning we were back over there again, sitting up in the treehouse with Dick and Dyke, when the music started again. It began with a really loud burst and Chalky got such a fright he nearly fell out. We thought that was funny, but Chalky didn't.
The stereo kept playing the same song, over and over, all morning. We got to know it well. It was the Beatles' Bad Boy.
"A bad little boy moved into the neighbourhood - he don't want to go to school to learn to read and write, just sits around the house and plays rock and roll music all night. Now Junior, behave yourself!"
Maybe he was telling us something. I hoped that he would be going to school and I was glad that he didn't play his music all night.
We didn't see Carter all day, just heard his music. The same old song, over and over. His landing pad of cartons was all in disarray, so maybe he'd flown again during the night?
Monday was a sensation at our small school when the Matthews family came to enroll. Practically every class gained at least one new kid. At first I thought that Carter was not among them, but he was. He was looking different that day; almost normal.
His hair was an ordinary brown colour again and he wore it all slicked back and tucked behind his ears. Gelled in place? His eyes were brown too, they looked pretty ordinary. His skin was still that milky-white colour and his clothes, I just realised, were the same as he always wore - dark-blue jeans, black t-shirt and sneakers. He still looked really good and, almost, normal.
His behavior wasn't normal though. I had almost every class with him and he didn't say a word all day; not even to the teachers when they tried to question him. He either looked at everyone with that blank stare of his, or he totally ignored them. He could talk, I thought, but he didn't.
In the second last class of the day, the teacher, Mr. Hollister, (Yeah, one of their adult children), played one of his favourite tricks. He put an algebra problem up on the white- board and challenged us to solve it. No-one did, not even Carter when Hollister called on him by name. Carter just ignored him.
He never really expected anyone to solve these things. He just likes to show us that he's much smarter than we are. He said that he'd leave it there until the end of the term and offered a reward to anyone who could solve it. It was a pretty safe bet for him, he'd never had to pay out yet.
When the class was over and everyone had rushed away, I was hanging back because Carter hadn't left yet. Mr. Hollister was writing stuff on the other board. Carter walked up to him, with his books under one arm. He wordlessly took the marker from Hollister's fingers and quickly filled in the solution to the problem on the first board while Hollister and I stood watching unbelievingly.
"My word, Mr. Carter. You know your stuff, don't you? That's exactly right. I've never seen anyone . . "
Carter still didn't say a word. He handed the marker back to the teacher, picked up the eraser and wiped all his workings off the board. Then he walked out while we both stood and stared.
Recovering my wits, I hurried after him. We had phys-ed for the last period, but he didn't go into the gym, he just kept walking - right out of the school and went home, I suppose. I stopped following and went back to the gym.
Chalky and I had a row on the way home from school. We didn't argue often, but it happened sometimes and when we did it was all on. We knew each other so well, we knew all the buttons to push and how to really hurt each other. Usually our disagreements blew over fairly quickly, but not this time. He was really pissing me off and it was all his fault!
If he thought I was going to come crawling back this time - well, he could forget it. Fuck 'im.
It all started because I wanted to tell him about Carter solving the algebra problem. Well I'd seen it and he hadn't. Carter just fascinated me, he was so, umm, different.
Chalky didn't want to know. He said he was sick of hearing about Carter, that he was just a friggin' loony anyway, and that I was so gay, mooning over him, like a girl only worse. Anyway, we had words, lots of words. I told him that he could find himself another butt to fuck. He said he would, he could do much better than my skinny arse and that it was time that he found himself a proper girlfriend anyway.
So we separated and each stormed off home in a huff. Fuck'im anyway. I wasn't worried, he'd be back. I was the one with the view and the great new neighbours, not him.
Mum didn't help. She took one look at me and wanted to know if I'd been fighting with Chalky again. I told her that we had and that he was just a fucking jerk-off anyway. She told me to watch my language and that I should go and find him and apologize. Friends are important.
Thanks Mum, big help. Thanks for the support.
I ran up and shut myself in my room and locked the door. Screw the lot of them.
Later, after I'd calmed down, I thought maybe I could go and see what was happening next-door. With so many people there, there was always something going on. I had a look out of my window. Bruce was over there - in the pool with a couple of kids - and, Damm! Bloody Chalky was there too!
He was playing a stupid game of stupid volley-ball, with Matt, Chatty and Teaser. They had a huge inflatable ball and were batting it back and forth on the tennis court.
"It's a beach game, Idiots!"
Fuck'em. I was not going over there then. I was about to turn away from my window in disgust, when Carter appeared. He came out of the house with a small towel wrapped around him. He walked over to the edge of the pool and took the towel off! He stood there, straight and tall, completely unconcerned and completely naked! 'Wow!"
Even at that distance, I could see that he was hot. He had a long and lean and flawless body and he had no pubes at all. Nothing! His groin was as bare as a baby's. Did he shave them? Or, was he a late-bloomer? No, it couldn?t be that, his package was definitely well-developed.
He stood there, totally bare-arsed naked, in the midst of all the kids around the place and nobody was taking any notice of him at all. Well, except for Bruce, he was definitely staring. As was I. Carter's arms came up in a pair of semi-circles, he dived, expertly, into the water, swam a couple of lengths, and then disappeared underwater.
I stood there, waiting. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to, (and I didn't).After 5 or 6 minutes, his head emerged again, flicking water. He swam down the length of the pool, climbed out, dried himself, and walked away, inside, with the towel around his neck. Wow. (Cute butt too!).
The music started again. It was the same old song, Bad Boy. I was getting bloody sick of that song. Then it stopped and a different one started. It was still the Beatles, it was always the Beatles. I knew this song, it was "Look through any window - what do you see?" Damm! Carter must have been telling me that he saw me looking at him from my window. Blushing furiously, I threw the drapes shut and stayed away from the window.
Carter's room, I'd worked out, was almost opposite mine. It was on the same side of the house but along a bit so that I couldn't see into his room. I could hear his music though, as clearly as if the speakers were right in there with me.
I stayed in my darkened room and listened to my own music. I was pissed at Chalky, embarrassed by Carter and jealous of Bruce. Fancy being right there in the pool with a naked Carter! Some people have all the luck.
A bit later, Bruce came knocking at my door and yelling out and telling me to come over next door. They were going to have a barbecue and we were invited. I asked if Chalky was still there. He said, "Yes, of course. Chalky's invited too."
So I told him to fuck off, I wasn't interested. Bloody Chalky. He could have them. Who needs friends anyway. Carter obviously didn't.
Bruce went away and I was left there, sitting on my own. I wished that someone would come and beg me to come over. I wouldn't go, but it would be nice to be wanted. Maybe I would go if Chalky asked me. Maybe. If he begged. But he didn't, nobody did. Screw the lot of them anyway.
Next day at school was one of my worst days ever. Not that anything happened.That's just it - nothing happened. Chalky was still not talking to me. So that was the end of that then. Fuck 'im anyway. There was no sign of Carter all day. Chatty said that she thought he'd gone for a walk somewhere, he does that sometimes, might not be back for days.
"Wow."
I never got to talk to Chatty for long either, she was surrounded by her new friends. Two days and she's made more friends than I ever have. Maybe I should try a new school? Screw 'em anyway.
After school, after it had cooled off a bit, I went out for a run. Running's something I've always liked doing on my own anyway. It was almost dark by the time I got home. I didn't plunge into the paddling pool, bugger that.
Back home, I ran upstairs and went to the bathroom for a shower. I left my smelly clothes in the laundry basket and headed for my room wearing a modest towel. (Mum says that she's seen it all before, but she's not seeing it again!)
I opened the door to my room and stopped short. The drapes were open, the window was open and Carter was there, sitting on the windowsill. In my room! (Well, half-in).
"Umm. Hey Carter."
He looked back and smiled at me, and what a smile! Like Matt Damon's, all white teeth and sunshine. His face lit up and I felt like I was melting.
"Hey Davey. How's it going?"
('He can talk!')
"Umm. I'm good. Carter, what are you doing here?"
"I came to see you of course. Careful with that towel or I'll be seeing everything."
"Umm. Yeah. Thank you. Nice to see you too." (He must have thought I was a right idiot by now.)
I crossed over and looked out past him out of the window. I'm not sure why, I knew what the view was like, I'd seen it often enough.
"Carter, you, ah, you didn't fly across did you?"
"No, of course not." (Still smiling.) "I wish I could. I just walked over, Bruce let me in. That's all right isn't it?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it is. Great to see you.'
"Davey." (No smile now.) "Would you come to my funeral?"
"Eh? Would I what?"
"Would you come to my funeral?"
"Would I come to your funeral? You're not dying are you, Carter?"
"No, I don't think so, but it could happen, people get killed all the time in car accidents and stuff. If it did, and I was dead, would you come to my funeral?"
"Well, I. . .Yes of course I'd come."
"Great. And would you cry if I died?"
(Where was this going?) "Yes I would cry. I'd cry if a beautiful boy like you died."
('Oh shit! I shouldn't have said that.') But, it was all right, he just smiled at me.
"That's good. Thank you, Davey."
I sat down on my bed, arms crossed over my skinny chest. "Carter, why do you want to know?"
"I went to a funeral today. Martin McAlpine's funeral. I was walking past a church and there was a funeral there, so I went in to have a look. It was very sad. An old man died and nobody came to say goodbye. Almost nobody, there were 7 people there including the undertaker, the priest and me. It made me think. I don't want to go like that with no- one caring if I was dead or alive. I don't want to be Eleanor Rigby. I need some friends, I don't have any. Would you be my friend, Davey?"
('Dammit, Carter, you'll have me crying in a minute.') "Yes, I would. I mean, yes, I would love to be your friend, I really would, but. . ."
"But? But? The 'but' cancels everything said before it. Davey, will you be my friend or not?"
"I would, but you'd be better with Chalky for your friend. Chalky's really cool and he's good at sports and everything. He's popular and he makes friends easily. I'm not and I don't. If you want friends, you'd be better with Chalky, not me. Sorry."
Carter came in from the window; he stood in front of me, bent down and put his hands on my bare shoulders. "Davey, Chalky wouldn't want me for a friend. He thinks that I'm a friggin' loony. You don't. You are the one I want, okay?"
"Umm. Okay."
And he kissed me! He kissed me right smack on the lips and then he backed off and he smiled that smile. Wow!
The End - for now :-)
Joah, Iarwain, Len, Malcolm, Janee, James, Bobby, Graham, Mal, Steven, BR, TRB, Steve & Uta - thanks for writing. I love hearing from you guys.
Thanks Nifty
cheers, david