Eliot Strange and the Prince of the People

22) Awake

I sleep and then I dream. It is one of those dreams you don't tell to anyone but your best friend or your lover. I dream that I am naked and Torin is naked. I don't even look because it is obvious in my dream that naked Torin is familiar to me and not a curiosity at all. The vision of his naked body is lovely. I trace the scar down his chest towards his flat stomach with my hand without any kind of hesitation. Torin places my hand where he wants it to be. I go to my knees. Torin moans and says my name. His hands are in my hair, pulling me towards him. His hands grip my face. I look up at Torin. His neck arches as he looks up to the sky. I hear, before I see, a helicopter. It is so close, it blows sand in my eyes.

I wake up to the little girl washing my face off with a wet wash rag that feels and smells like a graveled, corduroy piece of old carpet a dog sleeps on.

"You're not dead," she says matter-of-factly.

Good, I think. No time for that. But damn, my head hurts.

"Jamie's been practicing for weeks. You're the first thing he's ever hit," she says with some pride. "Jamie's my brother."

A concussion, I think. I have another one. Must be. My head is vibrating to the beat of a drum. A conga drum.

"I'm Chloe," says the tiny girl.

I sit up and look around. Most of the kids have gone. There are only a few here now. I don't seem to be tied up, and it doesn't feel as if I am being guarded. "Where's Gus?"

"Who? Oh, you mean the prince?"

I shake my head. "No, he's not the prince. He's not the real prince."

"How do you know?" says Jamie, the giant slayer with his sling shot ready to shoot me again if necessary.

"Because, I know the real prince, and he is gone. Look at that picture you are holding. Does it look like him, does it look like Gus?"

All of the six children left take another look at the photo on the wanted poster. I see some faces of doubt. Some faces that definitely say - we got the wrong man.

"Well," says Jamie. "He fooled us, maybe he'll fool them too."

"You think the Canadian army doesn't know who their prince is?" I ask. Unbelievable.

"We are not taking him there," says another little girl pointing at the paper.

They all laugh, and then Jamie says, "For one truckload of food? Nope, we want the warehouse full. We got families to feed."

"Where did you take Gus?" I ask, even though I only know one group of people who have that much food.

"To the fat man," says Chloe. "He says he's not with One Nation. We took him to the fat man."

"Fat man?" I ask.

"Too fat for these days," says Jamie. "That's how we know he's telling the truth."

Fat man? Oh no. "Is his name Mr. Thomas?"

"Yeah," says Jamie. "I believe that's his name."

The children don't seem to care if I leave. They are indifferent now that they've caught their prince and carted him off to trade for food.

My head is hurting still and despite Chloe's best efforts, blood still wanders down and falls in my eyes.

These kids do not understand what they have done. Stupid kids. Mr. Thomas is with One Nation. I tell them as much.

"Stupid kids" is not fair, I know. Mr. Thomas fooled me too, more than once.

I sit for a minute to decide what to do next. I'm not sure where Gus is now, where he was taken.