Published: 19 Sep 2019

Distant Worlds

Day 1

Rudy shivers because he is cold, but also because he is alone. After a decade of loving companionship, Sam is not here to cuddle him, to say he loves him, to share sex and exchange boy magic. Tomorrow, Rudy will become an apprentice at the College of Magic.

Sam brought Rudy to the college, and then returned to the farm where Rudy spent most of this life. Tomorrow night, Rudy surely will find a partner from among the other boys and tweens at the college. Tonight, however, for the tenth night, he is alone. The Master of the College explained. Boys must understand the commitment they are making. If a boy could not spend a few days and nights without companionship and sex, he probably did not have the discipline needed to control the great magic. Rudy pulls the blanket closer and tries to sleep.

Sam shivers, as well. He is alone on the farm in the room he and Rudy had shared. Sam shivers because he knows he will not see Rudy for years. The master of the college explained. The most dangerous time for a young mage is during the first few years when he learns more quickly to create magic than he learns to control it. Apprentices are confined to the college until they know enough not to be a danger to others – or to themselves.

Mark does not shiver. The electricity is shut off, again. Without air conditioning, the Georgia sun turns the ten-wide trailer into an oven. He opens the three windows that have screens, but the air is motionless. He lies awake; sweat streams from his face and chest and soaks the mattress. His mother explained. She’d spent the welfare check on beer for her latest boyfriend.

Kevin shivers with fear. His brother’s girlfriend … well, it is that time of the month. Kevin keeps closer track of the girl’s periods than she does. When Kevin’s older brother doesn’t get it from the girl, he is likely to force it from Kevin. His brother explained. If Kevin went to the police, he would be put in juvenile detention and if he thinks getting raped by his brother is bad, wait until they gang up on him in juvie.

Andy shivers, but it is the shiver of release as he pours his essence and his magic into Billy. Billy shivers, too, as he tastes Andy’s magic. Neither Andy nor Billy need explanation. They grew up with magic and boy-sex, and had been companions for nearly 20 years.

Alexis shivers. When he was a child, his mother said a shiver like that meant someone had walked upon his grave. Alexis didn’t understand how someone could walk on his grave when he was very much alive. Now, he stands beside the pyre on which the body of his master lies. He gestures, and one of the clerics pushes a torch into the mass of wood. Smoke, pale gray and then a darker, greasy black, rises to the rooftop before being whisked away by the wind. When the fire burns out, Alexis puts the letter from the Prince into his saddlebags, mounts the Clydesdale that stands patiently nearby, and rides toward the west.

Day 2

Rudy takes his oath the next morning. He swears allegiance to the Light and to the Prince who serves the Light, and obedience to the Master of the College of Magic. Master Criticus swears to provide for, protect, and teach Rudy. Later, in the bath, Rudy finds a partner for that night. A boy-journeyman named Marty invites Rudy to bathe with him and to move into the dormitory where Marty lives with several other boys. Their sharing is exuberant. After ten days accumulation of boy-magic flows from Rudy into Marty, a memory awakens in Rudy. He had known Marty, before.

Kevin’s brother did not come home the previous night. Kevin and Mark meet at the coffee house, as they often do. Despite the heat, the boys go to Mark’s trailer home. It is the only place they feel safe. After sex, they shower. The water is hot; the gas hasn’t been turned off. They are drying when the bathroom light comes on and the air-conditioner starts. Either Mark’s mother’s boyfriend had paid off or her appeal to the welfare people had worked.

Andy and Billy ride alongside the caravan. Their wagons are filled with casks of flour. Hailstorms had destroyed some of the wheat crop in Carter, making it worthwhile to ship flour from Arcadia. They would easily make enough money to buy their next cargo.

Day 3

The next day after supper, Rudy runs down the stairs to Chandler’s underground laboratory. Before he reaches the door, Rudy vanishes into a vortex of energy. He is alone, and no one sees him disappear. Every master and many of the journeymen hear the gate open and close. When Rudy is reported missing, they search the college and then assume the worst.

Coffee House, Georgia,
Earth Analogue

The light in the coffee house is dim. The air inside is cooler than the Georgia summer whose sun attacks the filmed windows. The door opens; a boy walks in. The air conditioner and the aroma of coffee labor to beat back the blast of hot air and the acrid stink of melting asphalt from the parking lot.

The boy’s clothes are on the edge of unusual – shapeless, dun trousers, pullover shirt that hangs past his waist, and moccasins but no socks. He sits at a table and looks at the door as if he were expecting someone. In a booth across the room, two boys sit side-by-side. They look at the screen of a web-book computer. The walls of the booth focus their whispers, which travel clearly to the table where the boy sits.

“The author has got to be the doctor in Minnesota,” Kevin whispers. “It’s obvious.”

“Way too obvious,” Mark says. “I think he’s Arthur in the first story. He’s always a healer and a teacher, and he is always teaching George and Gary and Larry.”

“No, no. Look.” Kevin moves his finger across the touch pad. “See? Jon, the doctor is Tyler’s teacher, and he taught at the monastery, and taught the elven prince.”

The boy at the table across the room listens to their argument for several more minutes before standing and walking toward the booth. He stops at the end of the table, and says, “The author is not any of them.”

The two boys look up. One fumbles, but before he can close the window on the computer, the new boy says, “The real author is none of those people. The real author is the storyteller. Who is the storyteller?”

The two boys at the table do not answer. The first boy continues, “Rudy. Sometimes known as Rudbeck. Do you know him?”

The two boys nod. They look at one another. Mark stands and gestures for the new boy to slide into the booth. The new boy is sandwiched between Kevin and Mark.

“Who are you?” Mark asks.

The new boy does not answer, but points to the computer screen. “Can you show other stories?”

Mark moves the cursor from one title to another. He opens stories, pauses, and moves on after the boy nods.

They’re mine, the new boy thinks. I know them. The first one … that just happened a few years ago when Sam and I rode to visit his sister in Agium. The others … I know them, too. His voice is low but confident. “I am the storyteller. My name is Rudy, Rudy of Barrone.”

“Yeah, right,” Mark says. “And I’m … I’m George of Sedona.” He giggles. It is a nervous giggle.

“No. George has black hair and violet eyes. You have the hair, but your eyes are blue. If you didn’t want to believe, why did you invite me to sit?” the boy who calls himself Rudy challenges.

“Um …” Kevin looks at Mark.

“Um …” Mark looks at Kevin.

Kevin giggles. It is not a nervous giggle. Rather, it evokes sunlight and sweet herbs. “Because you’re cute?”

Rudy smiles. “I’m so glad you said that.” He waves his hand as if dismissing something. “Not that I’m cute, but because I’m glad to hear someone able to say it.”

Kevin glances at his watch. “Like Rocky? Like Chandler, I mean, who wanted to find a place where boys could cherish one another?” he asks. His attitude has changed. His voice is different; he frowns.

Rudy draws away, but only for a moment. Then, he reaches out and puts his hand atop Kevin’s. “Yes, exactly like that,” he says. He stares at Kevin until that boy blushes, pulls his hand away, and averts his gaze.

“You can’t know…” Rudy begins. Stumbling over his words, he continues, “You probably know what it’s like to be – how did Arthur say it? ‘A gay teenager in a homophobic world.’ But can you imagine how someone from World would feel if he found himself trapped?” Rudy’s gesture includes the entire coffee house. “Trapped in your world?”

Mark’s eyes widen, and he nods. Kevin speaks. “Bullshit.”

Rudy’s shoulders drop; he looks at the tabletop. Kevin and Mark feel his body shake. Kevin pushes against Rudy. “Let me up.”

Mark grabs the table to keep from being pushed from the booth. “No!” he says. The barista hears, and looks at the three boys. She shrugs, and returns her attention to her espresso machine.

“No,” Mark whispers. “Damn it, Kevin, I thought—”

“What did you think?” Kevin asks. “Did you think I really believed all this shit? Well, I don’t. I was playing along because…” The boy’s voice falters. “Because we’re friends, and it makes you happy.

“Let me up. I’m going home.” Kevin’s voice trembles.

Mark steps from the booth; Rudy stands beside him. “Please don’t leave on my account,” Rudy says to Kevin. “I’ll go.”

“I gotta get home,” Kevin says. “See you tomorrow,” he tosses over his shoulder before pushing through the door into the bright, hot, Georgia afternoon.

“I’m sorry,” Rudy says to Mark. “Perhaps you should go after him.”

Mark shakes his head. “He gets like this. It’s okay. We’ll still be friends tomorrow. We have to be. We’re the only…” His voice fades away. He gestures for Rudy to sit down, and then sits beside him.

Rudy’s hands move as if they were trying to grasp something that isn’t there. He clenches his fists. “Look,” he whispers.

Mark looks where Rudy is looking. In the middle of the computer screen, an image forms. Mark gasps when he realizes what it is. “A tree,” he whispers. “An oak tree proper, with a crown. The symbol of the Elven Kingdom.”

Rudy’s hands relax, and the image fades. “It’s hard,” he whispers. “There’s so little magic here.”

“You’re really from—” Mark gestures to the computer screen. “From there?”

Rudy nods.

“How’d you get here?”

“Same way Arthur in the first story did,” Rudy says. “Evil mage. It’s a trope—”

“A what?” Mark interrupts.

“A trope. An over-used plot device in a story. I write stories. I live in stories, too. Sometimes, I wonder what’s real and what’s a story. Like now, for instance.”

“I’m real,” Mark says. “And I believe you’re real, even though I haven’t held your hand or seen you piss.”

“Huh?” Rudy scrunches his eyebrows together.

“It’s in one of your stories,” Mark says.

“I never wrote that,” Rudy says. “At least, I don’t remember writing it.”

“Maybe, it’s one you will write. Hey, will you come home with me? I live in the trailer park just down the road. Please?”

Rudy steps into the trailer. His nose wrinkles and his eyes water. “What is the smell?”

Mark turns the dial on a thermostat, and cool air comes from the ceiling vents. It does little to dispel the odor. “Patchouli,” Mark says. “Incense,” he adds, when Rudy furrows his brow. “Mother uses it in her ceremonies.”

A memory blooms in Rudy’s mind. “As the shaman did,” he says. “The smoke shows the magic as it forms. Your mother does magic? But there is so little here.”

“Nah, she doesn’t do magic. She just thinks she’s a witch. It’s a grown-up pretend thing, I guess. She’s got lots of books.” He waves at a bookcase. “And a bunch of stuff – a silver knife, candles, colored chalk. And, when you pull the rug back, there’s a pentagram painted on the floor.

“Want a soda?”

Rudy shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. What’s that?”

Mark pauses on his way to the refrigerator and turns back. “How long have you been here, anyway?”

“Since about sunrise, today.”

“Would you like a sandwich?”

“Yes, please.”

Mark’s cell buzzes. He hands Rudy the soda, and flips the phone open. “My mother and her current boyfriend are at a Braves game. They won’t be back tonight. Maybe not tomorrow night, either.” He snaps the phone shut and jams it into his pocket.

“I believe you, I guess,” Mark says after taking a sip of his soda. “But you understood my laptop in the coffee house. How do you know about computers? Isn’t that forbidden technology?”

Rudy tries not to make a face at the sickly-sweet, bubbly soda. The bread of the sandwich is stale and the cheese is mushy and salty, but Rudy hasn’t eaten all day, so he doesn’t sneer at that, either.

“Arthur and George didn’t seem to have any trouble talking about computers, and I learned a lot from them. Yours is the first computer I’ve seen. I watched you for a while, and it was pretty obvious what it was and what you were doing.”

“And knowing English?”

“Are you sure you believe me?” Rudy asks.

“Yes, but I want to understand, too.”

“That’s a pretty serious thought,” Rudy says. He hesitates. “You don’t want to understand too much. You’ll make yourself a target.”

Mark swallows hard and sits up in the couch. Then he slumps back and looks at his feet. “Wouldn’t be any worse than it is, now. At least, like George said, I’d have something besides dreams.” Mark doesn’t see the look that flashes across Rudy’s face.

Art imitates life; life imitates art. Rudy thinks. Are we real? Was I really sent here by an evil mage, or is this a different trope?

Mark interrupts Rudy’s thoughts. “About English?”

“The gates teach language,” Rudy says. “It’s part of being in harmony.” His voice drifts off and he yawns. “Sorry! I was pulled away from my world after supper and came here before dawn. It’s almost dark, again. I’ve been awake for a long time. May I take a nap? I’m sorry, but I’m about to fall asleep.”

Mark shows Rudy the bathroom and Mark’s bedroom, and then goes back to the kitchen. He tosses the soda cans in the recycle bin, puts the paper napkins he used as sandwich plates in the garbage, and sits by the kitchen window with his web-book. The aluminum skin of the trailer blocks the signal from his neighbor’s WiFi, but if Mark sits close to the window he can get a connection. It isn’t as fast as the one in the coffee house, but it is adequate. Mark downloads “Knight Templar in Training,” a story in which Rudy has a cameo.

At 11:00 PM, his cell buzzes with a text from Kevin. tmro k? Mark replies, shur and powers off the phone. He undresses to his briefs in the bathroom, brushes his teeth, and slides into bed beside the sleeping Rudy.

Rudy wakes to find an arm across his chest and a warm body pressed against him. The warm body has an erection that pokes the small of Rudy’s back. Rudy’s head swims. The scent of incense nearly overpowers his sense of smell, but he detects an acrid smell of unwashed boy, some of which is himself. Under that is a musty smell like a damp forest floor from mold in the mattress. A smell of decay comes from the un-emptied garbage can in the kitchen. Piercing it all is the sharp smell of urine: Mark hadn’t flushed the toilet before he went to bed. The musk of—

Rudy sits up and pulls away from Mark. Still asleep, the boy had been rubbing against Rudy’s back, and Rudy smelled the boy’s pre-ejaculate.

“Mark,” Rudy says. He shakes the boy’s shoulder. “Mark. Wake up. It’s morning.”

Mark wakes from a beautiful dream that quickly fades, leaving only a poignant memory and a painful erection. “Huh? Kev—”

Mark’s eyes open wide and he chokes as he tries to speak and gasp at the same time. “You’re not Kevin! Rudy? You’re real? I thought you were a dream.

“You’re … you’re beautiful.” Mark rubs sleep from his eyes, and blushes and stares.

The thin sheet falls away when Rudy sits up. A sunbeam pierces the blinds through a broken slat and sparkles in the boy’s red-gold hair. Mark stares at a firm chest and arms, flat tummy, and hairless pubes. Rudy’s penis is neither flaccid nor hard, but in an intermediate state. Mark’s hand, seemingly of its own volition, moves toward it.

Rudy intercepts Mark’s hand with his own. “Not now, Mark. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but we’re not clean. I haven’t bathed in two days, and I don’t think you have, either.”

Mark jerks his hand away and sits up. “Come on.”

“I would ask you to shower with me,” Mark says when they reach the bathroom. “But the tub is narrow. It would be dangerous. Stand on this rubber mat. It’ll help keep you from slipping.” He shows Rudy how to work the shower controls, and closes the mildewed plastic curtain.

He looks about my age, but he’s got no zits, Mark thinks. He glances at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, and turns away quickly. But I’ve got another one. He crimps the tube of medicine, hoping to get a blob from it. Nothing. Wonder if she’ll buy me some more. Hope this ‘boyfriend’ gives her some money and not just a night in a motel.

Mark hands Rudy a towel, and takes Rudy’s place in the shower. He scrubs hard. All the time in the stories, he talks about bathing. I thought it was just about getting naked together, touching one another. But it’s not. He’s really got a thing about being clean.

Rudy waits in the tiny bathroom and hands the towel to Mark. He’s cute, Rudy thinks. Not very muscular. Spends a lot of time reading on that ‘computer,’ I guess. He’s definitely a boy, at least in this world. And, he and his friend are clearly lovers. I guess it would be okay to ask. “Mark, would you share with me? I guessed you wanted to. If it’s okay, I mean. I don’t know about your customs.”

Mark’s toes curl so hard they scrunch up the bathmat. He blushes from his forehead to his chest. His whole body feels warm. Then, he freezes. Kevin and I, we’re just kids. The only things we know about sex are what we read on the web, and we’re afraid to try most of them. And this guy’s like, a million years old, or something. I probably shouldn’t, he thinks. But his body gives him a different answer. His penis hardens until it is nearly vertical; his scrotum draws tight. His heartbeat and breathing increase. “Uh, sure … uh, if you don’t think I’m too … stupid … I mean, it’s just been Kevin … I don’t know much.”

Rudy stops Mark’s protests with a kiss that leaves Mark gasping for breath. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we can come up with something.”

Mark’s eyes widen as Rudy’s penis pulses and the boy’s essence flows into him. He closes his hands into tight fists and curls his toes, as something else passes into his body. It’s magic. It’s really magic … it’s electric!

When Rudy catches his breath, he whispers, “That was wonderful, Mark. Kevin is so lucky to know you.”

Mark sits up, holds his hand over Rudy’s tummy, and opens his fingers. It’s like a fluid, flowing through my fingers, he thinks. Just a little. Without touching Rudy, he moves his fingers across the boy’s tummy. Rudy quivers and his penis, which had begun to soften, stands erect.

Rudy giggles. “You’re good. That’s very good. You can use magic.”

“I’ve read how in your stories. I read them at night, every night. I’ve practically memorized them.”

Rudy blushes. “Thank you. Now, how about … well, you don’t have any magic to give me, but that doesn’t mean you can’t feel pleasure.” He moves his own hand over Mark’s tummy.

Two blocks away, Kevin grabs his dad’s backpack and stuffs in clothes, a few tools, and his brother’s hunting knife. He looks at his brother, sprawled on his back, snoring. Goodbye big brother. I hope I never see you, again. He grabs his brother’s wallet and stuffs it in his pocket. In fact, no matter what, I’m not coming back, he resolves. Ever.

This book wraps up many of the stories of World, though we hope it is not the last from the fertile mind of David. Let David know you are reading: David dot McLeod at CastleRoland dot net. He deserves your feedback.

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