A Derivation of Love
Sterling Lynch
Copyright Sterling Lynch 2011
Published by Tangelico Publishing at Smashwords
No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means — graphic, electronic or mechanical — without the prior written permission of the publisher, excluding brief excerpts in a review.
ISBN: 978-0-9865443-1-6
Cover Art and Design by Jay Lutes Designs (jaylutesdesigns.yolasite.com)
Ebook design by Evan Thornton, PODCO New Media @evanthornton
For Jason Fleming
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1 - Monday, April 28th, 1980
Chapter 2 - Wednesday, April 30th, 1993
Chapter 3 - Wednesday, September 5th, 1984
Chapter 4 - Saturday, May 14th, 1994
Chapter 5 - Sunday, January 17th, 1988
Chapter 6 - Thursday, February 15, 1996
Chapter 7 - Tuesday, August 15th, 2000
Chapter 8 - Sunday, September 9th, 2001
Chapter 9 - Friday, September 14th, 2001.
He accepted everything. The past was alterable. The past never had been altered. Oceania was at war with Eastasia. Oceania had always been at war with Eastasia.
1984 – George Orwell
~~~~
CHAPTER 1 - MONDAY, APRIL 28TH, 1980
Across the street from the subdivision in which they lived, the children waited for the school bus. The unfinished subdivision had opened recently and, without roads, sidewalks, or lawns, the almost identical townhouses were marooned in mud and connected by wooden-planks. The clearing, where the children gathered, was uneven and muddy and, like the subdivision itself, had only recently been carved out of the farmer’s fields and light woodlands surrounding Ottawa. A large sign erected by the developers announced in neat black letters that the land would soon be developed. White but for its letters, the sign was wet with dew. A boy threw a rock at it for no other reason, it seemed, than to break the monotony.
Desmond stood near a group of boys, sucking on a cherry Lifesaver, waiting for the candy to be thin enough to break with a push of his tongue through its centre hole. His chin was low and his gaze was fixed across the street on a one-way sign. To his left, there was a large pile of sod that had been left a week ago. Between its high stacks, a narrow cavern emanated an earthy stench. A scruffy-haired boy moved toward it and passed through Desmond’s gaze. The candy broke and its cracked sharp edges made a tangy sweet pain on his tongue. Desmond smiled, enjoying the pinch.
A tall boy stepped from the group and pointed a finger at the scruffy-haired boy. “I dare you to go in.”
“No way. It smells gross.” The scruffy-haired boy scrunched up his nose. “I dare you to go in.”
“I dared you first.”
“So what, I dared you second.” The scruffy-haired boy leaned forward over his right leg towards the tall boy. With his left hand, he pulled hair out of his eyes and pushed it behind his ear. “If you love grass so much, why don’t you go in?”
“I don’t love grass.” The tall boy leaned forward from his waist, with his hands on his hips and his chin out towards the other. “You’re the one who loves grass.”
“Do not.”
“Do, too.”
An older boy, the same age as the tall one, punched Desmond on the shoulder. “Give me a Lifesaver, Des.”
Desmond’s right hand went into his pocket and he looked up to the older boy’s eyes. “Not a red one, though.”
“Why not?”
“Red’s my favorite.”
“I gave you a red yesterday.”
“You didn’t say it was a trade.” Desmond’s hand remained in his pocket. “If you said it was a trade, I’d have to give you a red one today but you didn’t make it a trade so I don’t have to.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Doesn’t matter, even if it is.”
The older boy shifted his weight to his right foot, which was a little behind the left. His neck, head, and eyes rolled in the direction of his shifted weight. He put out his left hand and wiggled his fingers, looking away at nothing in particular. “Just give me the pack.” His left toe raised and then dropped to the ground. “I’ll take whatever’s on top.”
“No way.” Desmond stepped back, turned his body away, and looked over his shoulder at the older boy.
“Only if you promise not to take a red one.”
“Sure.”
“Promise.”
“I promise, I won’t take one.”
“A red one.” Desmond turned more of his back towards the older boy. “Promise you won’t take a red one.”
“Okay. A red one.”
“Say it all.”
The older boy pushed his right shoulder up so it touched where his chin and ear met. He shook his head a little and sighed loudly. “Okay. Okay. I promise I won’t take a red one.”
Desmond faced the older boy and stepped towards him, removing his hand from his pocket. “Remember, you promised.” He placed the little rainbow coloured package in the palm of the older boy’s outstretched hand. The older boy picked at the bunched-up paper at one end and revealed a red candy.
“It’s the first one.”
“Doesn’t matter. You promised.”
The older boy looked at Desmond, shrugged his shoulders, and pulled out the red candy. He took the next candy -- a yellow one -- and put it into his mouth. The red went back into the space where the yellow had been and the excess packaging was slowly and deliberately folded over. When he was finished, he held the candy out in the palm of his hand. He looked at it, at Desmond, and again at the candy.
Desmond lunged. “Give it back.” The older boy pulled his hand away, closed the candy into a fist, and raised it above his head. With his other hand, he held Desmond back, pushing into the base of his collarbone.
“I promised not to take a red one.” The older boy backed away and Desmond stumbled forward. “I didn’t promise to give them back.”
Desmond lunged again at the older boy’s raised fist. “You have to give it back.” His eyes locked on the hand with the candy. “They’re mine.”
“Sure, they’re yours.” With a sudden movement, the older boy was past Desmond and next to the sod cavern. “I’m not taking them.” He made a quick underhanded motion. “Only I’m not giving them right back to you is all.” He turned, smiled, and made an after-you motion towards the darkness.
Desmond stood still and looked where the older boy had motioned. The back of his eyes began to burn. His shoulders rolled forward and his chin fell. “You have to give things back.” He looked up at the older boy. “You don’t have to say so.”
“You didn’t make me promise to give it back.” The older boy smiled and gave his shoulders a short deliberate shrug. “All I promised was not to take a red one.”
“Give them back, please.” Desmond motioned, without looking, at the sod. “You have to.”
“I might get them back for you.” The older boy’s hands were on his hips, his face turned away, and he watched Desmond out of the corner of his left eye. “If you promise to give me the red one.”
“No way.” Desmond’s eyes hardened and he raised his chin. “You’re only trying to break your promise.”
“So what?” The older boy shrugged his shoulders. He moved away from the sod and came close to Desmond.
“You’re not getting your Lifesavers back unless you promise to give me a red one.”
“No.” Desmond stepped back with his right foot and transferred his weight to it. He rubbed the small of his back with the top of his wrist and forearm. “No way.”
“You better go get them then.” The older boy smiled over Desmond towards the tall boy. “If someone else goes in there and finds them, it’s finders, keepers.”
“No, it’s not. No, it’s not.” Desmond turned around to face the others and pointed at the sod. “It’s not finders, keepers. They’re my Lifesavers. Everyone saw.”
The tall boy in front of the group cleared his throat dramatically. “I didn’t see anything and I might go in now.” He looked over his left shoulder and smiled at the boys behind him. “If someone dared me.”
“No. They’re mine.”
“Mine what?” The tall boy turned into Desmond’s eyes and took a step towards him. “What am I going to find?” He put a confused look on his face and twisted his head at the end of his neck. “All I’m saying is if I got dared, I’d go in.” He looked up, past Desmond, to the older boy who had taken the candy. “But, if I did find anything, it’d be mine.”
“See Des.” Desmond turned around. The older boy’s face and smile were very close. “If you want those Lifesavers, you better go get them quick before someone else does.”
Desmond looked at the older boy and then at the cavern. “I don’t want to go in there.” He punched the sides of his legs with the butts of his fists.
“It looks like you’re going have to.” The older boy stood up straight. “Unless you promise to give me a red one.”
“No way.”
“So, what are you going to do then?”
Desmond rubbed his forehead with his left hand and his bum with his right and stared at the dirt in front of the older boy's sneakers. Slowly, his shoulders went up towards his ears and fell abruptly.
The older boy’s eyes rolled and he shook his head. “Hurry up and decide. The bus is going be here soon.”
The tall boy brushed past Desmond and moved towards the sod. “I feel like exploring. Anyone want to dare me?”
“No!” Desmond bolted ahead of him. “I’ll go. I’ll go. I’ll go.” He hesitated at the edge of the cavern and then entered.
~
“What are you crying for?” The older boy stepped back from the cavern’s entrance, with his hands on his hips. Desmond walked past him.
“I threw up.”
“So what?” The boy flicked his hands out and they slapped back against his thighs. “Why cry about it?”
“I don’t know.” Desmond tasted two different flavours of salt: one from the tears and the other from the snot.
“You’re such a crybaby.” The older boy crossed his arms. “You cry all the time. About everything.”
“You made me go in there.” Desmond felt his arms hanging at his sides and he turned away from the other boys.
“You didn’t have to go in.” The older boy pointed at the sod with his left hand.
“You threw my Lifesavers in.”
“No, I didn’t, stupid. They’re right here.” The older boy held out his other hand and the little wrapper of candy was in his palm. The tall boy laughed. There were other laughs and Desmond’s face felt hot.
The older boy turned, stepped away from Desmond, sighed loudly, and then turned towards him again. “You’re a baby for throwing up and stupid for falling for it.”
“You made me.”
“I didn’t make you.” The older boy held the candy with his thumb and index finger and moved it back and forth in front of Desmond’s face. “You can’t say I made you, when I never threw the candy in there.”
“Yes, I can.” Desmond’s eyelids fluttered, a tear rolled off his cheek, and he watched it hit the ground.
“No you can’t.” The older boy pointed at himself and slowly turned the point towards Desmond. “You didn’t make me promise the right way. So, it’s your fault.” He poked Desmond’s shoulder forcefully.
“You started it.”
The older boy opened his arms wide, leaning closer into Desmond. “I wouldn’t have started it, if I knew you were stupid enough to fall for it.”
Desmond opened his mouth to speak but his chest heaved and sucked air through the snot in his nose and the saliva in his mouth. “I’m telling, Mom.”
“No, you’re not.”
Desmond hit the ground on his bum and he fell back onto his elbows. His cheeks became wetter. The older boy stood over him and Desmond did not look up.
“Take your stupid Lifesavers.”
Desmond felt a soft bump on his chest and he heard the older boy walk away. He took the candy from his lap, put it in his pocket, and stood up. He did not speak. The boys stopped watching him and started to talk again. Desmond looked at the ground and tried to stop the tears.
~
The children stood up to sing “O Canada” and then they bowed their heads to say the “R Father.” At the end of the prayer, before the teacher told them to, Desmond moved to the carpet and sat down cross-legged in his favorite spot.
Kindergarten always started the same way each day.
The teacher moved away from her desk and stood beside the big pad of paper she wrote on with markers. The teacher smiled at them. She had a stack of large cards in her hands. She mixed them and Desmond saw coloured pictures of fruits and vegetables.
“Qu’est que c’est?” She held up a card with the picture showing. Hands raised quickly.
“It’s an apple.”
“Claire!” The teacher had an angry face. “Leve ta main, s’il tu plait. Et parle en français.” Her eyes were hard at the girl. The teacher smiled again. “D’accord. Qu’est que c’est?”
Hands went up. The girl’s hands stayed in her lap, on her skirt, in the space between her legs. Her eyes looked at the carpet beyond her feet and her fingers worked at a little piece of thread on her dress. Desmond looked from her to the card the teacher held.
“Oui, Jean.”
“Une pomme.”
The teacher tilted her head abruptly towards the boy. Her smile was big and bright. “Bien.” The card was placed behind the stack and a banana was revealed. “Qu’est que c’est.”
“Margarette.”
“Une bananne.”
“Oui. Mais, c’est tres facile.”
Desmond repeated the word quietly to remember it.
“Sam.”
“Un ananas.”
“Superbe.”
Desmond punched the inside of his knee with the butt of his fist and frowned at the picture on the card. He closed his eyes and repeated the French and the English word over and over again inside his head.
“Desmond.” The teacher’s voice was loud and sharp.
He opened his eyes and the teacher was being angry at him. She covered the card with her hand. “Qu’est que c’est?” Her voice was hard and Desmond felt it.
“I can’t see.”
“En français, Desmond.”
“Pardon, Mademoiselle. Je ne peux pas voir”
“Je ne peux pas le voir.”
Desmond repeated her words quietly.
“Had you been paying attention, Desmond, you would have seen the card and, perhaps, known the answer.” When the teacher spoke English in the French part of the day, it meant she was very angry. “Je suggère que tu paye plus près l'attention et participes plus activement comme les autres étudiants.”
“I closed my eyes because I was...” The teacher was angrier and Desmond shut his mouth quickly. His teeth clicked together.
“En français!”
“Mes yeux est -- non, était -- ferme parce que.” Desmond stopped. He did not know the words for what he wanted to say and the teacher’s stare made it harder. He looked from her to the carpet and its different coloured threads. There was a long silence.
“Une autre?” The quiet was all around him. “Oui, Claire.” The teacher’s voice was no longer angry.
“Une carotte.”
“Oui. Excellent, Claire.”
Desmond let his head hang and only raised his eyes to see the new cards. He left his eyes open when he repeated the words in his head. He didn’t raise his hand, even when he knew the answer.
~
A sound like squealing car tires came from the back of Desmond’s throat. He ran around the corner of the portable quickly and the dirt slipped underneath his Battlestar Galactica sneakers. He threw himself up against the aluminum siding of the portable and made a gun out of his hand. He looked to his right and saw two girls walking in his direction. He looked left, peeking around the corner to see if anyone had chased after him.
Something wet, warm, and soft pushed against his right cheek. He smelt girl and realised he was being kissed.
“Gross.” Desmond pulled away from the girl, twisting, and jumping.
“You’re it!” She squealed and pointed a finger at Desmond.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re it.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” Desmond took another step away from the girl. He scrunched up his face in reaction to the warm wet he still felt on his cheek. “Girls don’t play tag.”
The girl who kissed him put her hands on her hips, raised her nose in the air, and smiled. “Today, we do.”
The other girl was quiet.
“Says who?” Desmond pushed his cheek into his raised shoulder and twisted his head to wipe off the remnants of the kiss.
“The other boys.”
“They did not.”
“Did too. They said we could play if one of us would be it.” She stepped back onto her right leg and her hip jutted out. “That’s the rule for joining late. I said I’d be it and so now you’re it.”
“Well, why didn’t you tag her?” Desmond threw his hands in the direction of the other girl. “You were walking right next to her.”
“I wanted to tag you.” She pressed her chin into her left shoulder and smiled.
“You can’t do that.” Desmond scrunched up the left side of his face, stuck out his tongue a little, and shook his head. “You are suppose to tag whoever you can.”
“When you boys play, you pick on one boy all the time.” She made the same face he had made. “I’ve seen you.”
Desmond slapped her shoulder and moved away quickly. The girl flinched but did not move.
He laughed from a safe distance. “You’re it.”
“No, I’m not.” Her eyes were hard. “You’re still it.”
“I tagged you, stupid. Now, you’re it.”
“No, you’re it, stupid.” She leaned forward at her waist and twisted her head on the end of her neck. “We’re playing kissing tag.” She straightened up. “You have to kiss someone to make them it.”
“Kissing tag.” Desmond felt funny in his stomach. “We’re not playing that. That’s stupid.” He swatted the air in front of him. “I tagged you. You’re it.”
“No. I’m not.” She shook her head and made a thin hard smile. “You have to kiss one of us to get not-it.”
“That’s stupid. I’m not playing like that.” Desmond put his hands into his pockets. “I’m playing tag. Normal tag. I’m not kissing you or her.” He motioned with his chin at the other girl standing by quietly.
“You have to.”
“Do not”
“Do to.”
“Do not.”
“Do to.”
“Do not”
The girl’s lips twisted up and her eyes became very hard. She stepped towards him. “You can always kiss one of the boys.”
Desmond rolled his eyes, turned, and ran from the girls around the corner of the portable.
~
The boys stood together in the sand pit and Desmond jogged to a spot in front of them, leaving a distance between him and them. “Who said the girls could play?”
A couple of the boys giggled, but no one answered.
His head fell to the left and he sighed. “Can’t we play normal tag?” He looked above them to the right.
“They wanted to play. So we let them.” There were more giggles.
“I don’t care if they play but can’t it be normal tag? It won’t be as fun. There are only two girls and, if a boy is it, we’ll have to kiss them and the other boys will stand around until one of the girls gets kissed. It’s happening already.” He opened his arms at the semi-circle of boys. “It won’t be as fun.”
“Des is it. Des is it.”
Desmond looked towards the voice and saw the girls come out from around the portable. “No I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” The girl’s voice was closer. “Which of the boys are you going to kiss?” Desmond turned back to the boys. “See, this is stupid.” He raised his left hand toward the boy who had spoke.
“Why don’t you kiss her?” The boy had a hard smile on his face. “She wants you to.”
“So?” Desmond’s hand dropped. “So what?”
“She likes you.”
“No, she doesn’t.” He straightened his back and put his left hand into his pocket. “Besides, nobody likes her. Not even the girls. That’s why she’s trying to play with us.”
“Shut up.” The girl’s voice was close behind him.
Desmond looked over his shoulder in the girl’s direction. “No, you shut up.”
The other boy stepped towards Desmond, leaning forward with his palms up and out. “Are you scared or something?”
“Yeah.” The girl’s voice was now directly behind Desmond. “Are you scared?”
Desmond moved away from the girl’s voice and the eyes of the boys. “I’m not playing anymore.” Dirt and rocks scrapped loudly under his shoes. “I quit.”
“You can’t quit when you’re still it.”
“I can if it’s kissing tag.” Desmond’s other hand went into his pocket. He stared at the grass as he walked. A boy called after him but Desmond continued on. There were laughs and then the sound of running. The game had resumed.
~
“Très bien, Desmond. Parfait. Tu gagne une prix.”
Desmond stood in front of the class and the teacher looked at him with kind bright eyes. The other kids sat in front of him, cross-legged, in neat rows, watching. Some of them smiled; some of them frowned; most of the faces were blank.
The teacher turned to her left and bent at the waist. She opened one of her desk’s big drawers. When she straightened, he saw she had a small green plastic flowerpot. In the pot, there was soil and a small plant growing. “Tu gagne une plante. Parce-que les fruits et les légumes viennent des plantes. Félicitations, Desmond.”
Desmond realised the last card had been shown and he had said all the words correctly. He moved, thinking he should sit, and then he stopped, thinking he should continue to stand.
“Tu peux la prendre avec toi à la fin du jour.” The teacher placed the flowerpot by the cup with all of her pens. “Je la garderai ici, sur mon bureau, où tu peux la voir.”
“Merci, Mademoiselle.”
“Très Bien, Desmond.” She motioned with her hand, one finger outstretched. “Asseyez-toi.” He returned to his spot in the neat rows. He watched the plant, as another boy walked to the front of the class.