The Lion and The Mouse Disclaimer: The story Lucas belongs to Kevin Brooks.
It seems like I'm the only one reading this book so I'm not really that concerned if I get the events right. If you have read the book, feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong.
What if Lucas lived? What if he had met Simon? A story of one who had a big heart and feared nothing and one who needed to find his voice.
Lucas.
The name seemed to say so much about the boy even though I hadn't even met him yet. When hearing the word it was like hearing the calmness, the strength, the sincerity, the fire, the prosperity of soul the boy himself possessed.
All could be heard from one name.
Lucas.
I had never met him before, only heard about him. About the perverted gypsy boy on the beach who had molested a little girl.
Gossip.
Horrible, horrible gossip that I never should have listened to. I should have known. I mean, the people who had told my dad the story were a couple of drunks after all.
When I called Caitlyn to tell what I heard, she practically ripped my head off over the phone! I had never heard her so angry before! That's what tipped me off.
"That's rubbish. She fell off the raft. I was there, Simon, I saw it happen. She slipped and fell, that's all." I could practically feel the irritation radiating from her through the phone.
"What about this gypsy boy?" I asked curiously.
"Oh, Christ! Not you, too?" she snapped at me.
"What?"
"He's not a gypsy. Why does everyone think that-?"
Cait being so irate about one little gossip could logically mean only three things. One: she was in a bad mood and after years of keeping her mouth clammed up about her true thoughts of gossip and stereotypes had finally had enough. Two: she personally knew the boy on the beach and knew what type of person he was. Or three: she was there and saw the whole thing. That's what I'd concluded. I couldn't exactly pick which explanation best fit Cait's outburst since they all sounded pretty rational. It was either those three, or my fourth choice: she was seriously PMSing.
Then I heard it. His name. Lucas. She had accidentally let his name slip. When I confronted her about it, she quickly fibbed about how Joe had told her. I knew she was lying through her teeth (it wasn't really that hard to tell) but I didn't press the issue any further. I had already come to the conclusion that Cait personally knew Lucas and half of the bloody town was dead wrong about him. Even if the girl was a bit ditzy at times, she was a very good judge of character, and everything she said about a person was almost always right.
I had found that out for myself later that day.
I hung up the phone and just sat there at the dining table. Resting my head down in my crossed arms, I sighed heavily. What was there to do? My mom was just in the kitchen preparing dinner. She heard my sigh, had walked up to me, and gently placed her hand on my shoulder. "Is everything okay, Simon?" she asked gently. I sat up tiredly and stretched out my arms. "Yeah. I'm just bored is all. Mom, is it all right if I got out for a little walk?" She gave me a relieved smile and nodded. I thanked her and gave her a kiss on the cheek before grabbing my sketchbook from off of the kitchen counter and headed out.
I had nowhere in particular I really wanted to go so I decided to just mill around town, sketching a few interesting sights here and there. There wasn't really much to do even outdoors, so I thought that I'd just wait at the bus stop. I wiped off most of the leftover rain from the bench and sat down.
It was peaceful. Just sitting there be myself with only the 'Bus Stop' sign to accompany me. The sky was still a bit of a light gray with the now departing rain clouds. It was nice but lonely.
I didn't have anyone to be with me at the moment.
Or any other moment.
I had always been alone. The only person I could ever really be myself around was my brother. Now, I had no one. My brother, Henry, died two years ago during a farming accident. I'm not as depressed about it now, but I still miss him.
I reached into my coat pocket for a pencil and began to sketch a picture of Henry's face. His strong cheekbones, his short bangs, warm, loving eyes. That was my brother, all right. I smiled at the completed picture a few minutes later.
"Nice drawing. It looks like you really put your heart and soul into it."
I jumped at the sudden voice from beside me. It was a boy, not much older than myself. He had a mop of short blond hair, a camouflage jacket over his white undershirt, camouflage jeans, and a duffel bag at his side.
"Oh sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, it's just that you have a lot of talent that I couldn't help noticing." His voice was free of any accent, meaning he must have been new to the island.
I blushed a bit from the compliment. "Um…thanks." I wasn't really used to anyone saying nice things about my artwork or anyone even wanting to look at my work.
"Anyone in particular?"
"Hm?" It took me a moment to register his question. "I-it's…it's my brother."
"It looks like you love him a lot."
"I did."
"Did? What happened to him?" The question wasn't really pressing or laced with pity like others. His voice was soft and was resonating with genuine care.
"He…died."
"Oh," there was a slight pause, "Was it a long time ago?" I immediately noticed that he had not said 'Oh, I'm so sorry' or asked what had happened like everyone else who wanted to comfort me, but only succeeding to irritate or sadden me.
"Two years."
"Ah. You miss him, huh?"
"Yeah. He was the only person I could really connect with. Talk to."
"Really? Doesn't anyone else talk to you?"
The question stung a little, but I could tell that he was trying to be nice about it. Unlike other heartless bastards that just come out blunt with 'Don't you have any friends?'
"M-my parents are the only others that come to mind…and a girl. I don't know if she's my friend or not. She usually just hangs around me when she's bored or when she needs to."
"When she needs to?"
"We're both on a kind of committee that organizes and advertises the events that happen here."
"Oh. Sounds cool. Hey, I know a girl on a committee like that. Her name Cait? Dad a novelist?"
That was when it all hit me. Was it a mere coincidence that this kindhearted newcomer knew about Cait? Or was he really—
"I-is your name Lucas?" I asked quietly, staring at him in disbelief.
He stared back at me and smiled. It was a sad smile. "Well that depends if you're going to throw rocks at me or not. Or if you're going to roll up that sketch book of yours and smack me over the head, screaming 'get away from me, you damn pervert gypsy' while I try to run off."
It was definitely Lucas. He didn't seem like the type of person to molest a girl. He seemed more like a person who had given up trying to explain his side of the story.
"Lucas," I said gently, scooting closer to him, "what really happened?"
He bowed his head, sad smile still on his face. It was as if he thought that his story wouldn't make any difference. "What does it matter? No matter who hears my story, the rest of the town won't believe me. It'll only be a matter of time before I'm on the run again."
"On the run?"
"No matter where I go, people are always the same. They try to figure me out, judge me, and categorize me. Once they find out they know nothing about me they get scared. It's only human nature to think of mysterious things as bad. Once I'm categorized as bad I never really have that much time to stay in one place for too long."
Now I understood. That was why the town hated him…he was a mystery to them. I hesitated for a minute before reaching out to touch his arm. He looked at my hand, then to me. "You can tell me. I won't categorize you," I told him gently.
He looked doubtful but told me anyways. He told me how he had gone to the beach that day. How everyone was too busy to see the girl fall into the water. How Jamie Tait (a major jackass in my opinion and apparently Lucas' too) was too scared to save her even though he was right there. He even told me how the girl's bikini was askew and how he was trying to set it straight for her when her mother saw him and got the wrong idea.
It all sounded cheesy, and I'm pretty sure he knew it too. That was probably why he thought I wouldn't believe him and didn't even want to try to explain it to me. His eyes were still sad after he was done telling me, most likely thinking 'what was the point of telling you, you won't believe me'.
"I believe you."
He looked up at me with shock and disbelief. "You do?"
"If Caitlyn says you saved the girl, you saved the girl."
His smile broadened. "Thank you."
His smile was magnificent. It made my whole body tingle for some reason. Made me feel warm. His eyes were beautiful as well. They were also what told me that Lucas had been telling me the truth.
Lucas' bright, crystal blue eyes suddenly found mine staring straight back at him. I blushed and quickly turned away. It was quite embarrassing to get caught ogling a person of the same gender as you and I was pretty sure there was going to be an awkward silence.
Instead there was a small laugh that came from the other boy. I cautiously turned back to see that glorious smile of his and his amused eyes looking right back at me.
With confidence and absolutely no fear in his voice, he asked softly, "If I kiss you, will all of those nice things you just said about me…disappear?"
Shock would not describe how I felt at the moment. More like stunned into a freakin' paralysis!!! Did he just ask me if he could kiss me?
His confidence still shown brilliantly as he awaited my answer patiently. He wasn't going to move unless he got my approval, and he obviously understood my fear and hesitation.
I just sat there beside him, eyes wide, heart racing, breathing hard.
Did I really want to kiss him?
Was I gay? What would the world think of me? How would people look at me? How would they treat me? Why would-?
Lucas gently placed his hand on mine and looked deep into my eyes. I could suddenly feel my whole face heat-up. Without uttering a single word, Lucas had somehow managed to brush away my fears and with a single glance, he managed to tell me "Forget about everybody else. This isn't about what the world thinks, it's about what you think."
The boy wasn't going move unless he was sure, until he got an answer.
So I gave him one.
I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, sending Lucas backward and surprising us both as my lips collided with his in an unimaginable moment of surging power and lust.
I could feel an arm wrap around my waist and another go up my back, hand pushing gently on the back of my head to deepen the kiss.
And at that point I realized that it didn't matter what anyone else thought. The only two people who mattered right then were me.
And Lucas.