The following is an excerpt of:
Hiraeth:
The Boy Who Dreamed and the Big Bad Wolf Which He Became
By Tex Batmart
If you haven’t been with us from the start, check out Chapter One here
Chapter Four
It has been noted that, having grown up an only child, Mr. Batmart never truly had the opportunity to learn a great many fundamental social skills. It is not this author’s place to disagree with the aforementioned sentiment, but one does feel obligated to qualify said statement.
While he was, indeed, the sole child residing with his mother, he had been forced to socialize with all manner of tiny people since being interned in daycare. For those younger than himself, he had always felt great affection, and tried to help them where he could, while his relationships with the older kids were always slightly more problematic. On more than one occasion, he has admitted that he viewed those bigger boys and girls as nothing more than case studies, sneaking glimpses of techniques and mannerisms which were still unknown to him. This often came across as hero worship, though he would be quick to remind you that nothing was further from the truth: he merely stayed close to them so that he might better understand the situations which one day he might face.
As for his interactions with adults, he was well ahead of the social curve, aside from when his passions got the better of him, and let slip the hidden nature of his machinations. Perhaps it was that he had no one his own age with whom to interact once he had returned home, as his mother had no other children, his aunt had none at all, and his uncle’s two boys lived several states away. That left him to learn how to navigate the swirling inconsistencies of interpersonal relations in the master class at which the average adult might operate.
Soon, he began to feel more comfortable around them as well, having also determined through careful observation, that children were generally inconsistent, and while a grownup might not act in such a manner as to capitulate to one’s every whim, they could, at the very least, be counted upon to act rationally, at least within the guidelines of their own personal worldviews. It is no surprise, then, that it wasn’t until he had gained four years of age that he was able to formulate a friendship with someone his own age.
The new daycare to which he had been shipped was, at least from our young protagonist’s viewpoint, a step in the right direction. The woman who considered herself in charge of all the children was generally kind, though possessed the type of face which had caused him some measure of discomfort upon their initial introduction. And while he wasn’t thrilled about having to learn an entirely new set of rules, he found the open space outdoors and adjacent wilderness of twisting paths which cut through forests of Scotch Broom like mazes more than made up for it.
In the beginning he wasn’t allowed unfettered access to the great outdoors, but once he’d been there awhile, and had befriended a school aged boy named Mark, he was granted conditional visitation into the wild. Most days, though, at least during the summer months, when the temperatures rose up to a sweltering seventy degrees, he was content to run back and forth through the sprinkler which his captor had been kind enough to set up on the lawn.
It was the year before he would begin attending elementary school when he had the opportunity to make himself a new friend. Mark was now gone for most of the day, and during the late morning and early afternoon, young Tex had begun to feel his absence. Sure, there were toys, and stories (some of which he had recently begun to read all on his own), but there were times when, after school had started for the day, that he was all alone. That is, until one day in late autumn, another little boy began arriving at his daycare.
This new kid was the same age, and always brought some neat toys, though Tex viewed him with a small measure of suspicion as he knew absolutely nothing about baseball cards. Still, after a week or two, once the wary circling had faded into just a hollow gesture, the two boys began to play in earnest, and little Batmart was thrilled that, from his position of seniority, he was able to teach this new kid something or two about the conditions of their captivity.
When they played outdoors, they were to remain in the front lawn; the Scotch Broom and back lawn were strictly off-limits. No yelling, hitting, or (and this one, personally, felt like an attack upon our hero) biting. Any toys brought from home must be shared, or they would be confiscated. Snacks must be eaten at the kitchen table, and completely finished before one was excused and allowed to return to play. Naptime was non-negotiable: if a child wasn’t tired, he could just lay there silently until time had expired, but was not able to play with toys, or even bring a book along to stave off the inevitable boredom which would follow. As he ran through these many regulations, clarifying any vague points and making sure to spell out the consequences for non-compliance, Tex came to realize that perhaps the only thing which had kept him outmaneuvered at every turn since his arrival had been the simple lack of an accomplice.
It took longer than he might otherwise have preferred to bring the new boy up to speed, and somewhere along the way, he was forced to adopt a façade of respectful deference, as Ty seemed to believe that simply because one is more naturally extroverted, he should be the one to call all of the shots. At first, young Tex was taken quite aback, for if there was anything which he disliked almost as much as bathtime, it was someone of obviously subordinate capacity who quite clearly believed that he was somehow the brains of each and every operation. Soon, however, it was made clear to our pre-Kinder hero that there were definite benefits to remaining in the shadows, most notably in the areas of discipline and watchfulness.
While Ty delighted in the limelight (and remained perplexed as to why it was only ever he which seemed to be placed upon Time Out), Tex began mastering the arts of subliminal messaging, and reverse psychology. And while he remained unable to directly withstand an interrogation, he found that if he had merely nudged Ty early enough in roughly the right direction, he could answer honestly that it hadn’t been his idea. Was he uncomfortable about selling his friend down the river when the heat was on? Perhaps, perhaps not. It is more likely that he simply felt that if one didn’t wish to wind up facing punishment, one best not be caught.
Another benefit to this comradeship-in-arms was that it opened up the possibility of there being something to do upon the weekends. While he would have never openly admitted it, Tex had grown accustomed to being around other people under four feet tall, and every weekend, he would be deprived of them. Sure, there were cartoons on Saturday morning, and his growing LEGO collection provided hours of entertainment. But there were certain things that simply could not be done alone, as well as the fact that if anything conceivably “irregular” occurred, he was the prime (and only) suspect. Soon after befriending Ty, he was made aware of another option: going to his friend’s house to play (or, failing that, inviting his friend to come and play with him).
At first either option suited him just fine, but it rapidly dawned on him that he rather liked the way that his things were set up, and rules by which he made believe, and that his friend, useful as he might have been, just didn’t seem to understand this very well, which especially irritated him when his mother made him aware of the social traditions involved in the host-guest relationship. That in mind, he made a concerted effort to permanently relocate their play dates to the home of his best friend.
But, as it should be obvious to anyone who has been with us since this tale began, this new plan did not come without its costs: Ty was in possession of a dog. Not some cute canine like was often featured on television, but a massive, drooling beast which made a point of always barking and running full speed at visitors of shorter stature.
I suppose that I should take the time here for a brief interlude to explain our hero’s feelings towards animals.
To read the next installment, click here