Eliot Strange and the Prince of the People

18) Pooh And Boo Boo

I am not surprised at Gus's theatrical response, but really, save the world? Gus is a damn drama queen. Before I can ask the most obvious question that I know Gus wants me to ask - How are we going to save the world? - Gus confesses.

"I did it."

"Did what?"

"Shot the three puppy eaters. In the alley."

I think back to the gruesome scene in the alley, the smell comes back to me, a little vomit threatens to come up. I remember what Cindy Lou told me. "Good," I say. "They were baby eaters too."

"I know."

"They told you?"

He nods. "In detail. I think they were quite proud of their ingenuity. Their willingness to do the incomprehensible. To survive. They were proud of themselves."

"Why would someone brag about that?"

"They thought I was One Nation. They were trying to join. The woman told me about the prince. Said she could lead me there, just take them to the army first. Said they had been looking to join for a long time."

"So, eager to join up. One more reason to shoot them." I don't understand why Gus feels bad about shooting child murderers so I ask him why.

"They only had the knife." He pulls it out to show me, the wolf knife. "I lost my cool. Unprofessional, not like me at all. I follow the code. No civilians, unless necessary. Unless, they threaten the mission."

"Good riddance," I say.

Gus continues the confession. "I was getting ready to leave when they offered me some of the dog. One of the men said it wasn't as good as a baby, but was still good meat. They started arguing about a baby they left behind. Christopher. I won't forget that name."

"Yes, that's Cindy's new baby," I say. I spit out the little vomit in my mouth. Not very lady like, but effective.

"Eliot, when the man said that name again, I shot him in the face. Before I could even think. That name got me. It finally registered what they had done, been doing, what they might do again. The other two ran. I shot them in the back. And, here's the most important thing. I didn't, I don't feel bad about it. I know it was wrong, to shoot defenseless people, but I don't feel bad. Am I a monster now too?"

"No," I reach for Gus's hand. "No, you're not a monster. It had to be done. Before they hurt another child or someone else."

"Christopher. The baby they left behind. I have a half brother in England. That's his name. Christopher. My mum named him after Christopher Robin. My mom calls me Pooh." He laughs, "When he was born, she said her Pooh has his own Christopher now." Gus takes in a deep breath.

Is he going to cry? Yes, yes he is.

I don't know what to say so I try to lighten things up. "My dad called me Boo Boo when I was little. So, you're Pooh," I point to him, and I point to me, "And I'm Boo Boo. Pooh and Boo Boo ride again." But, Gus doesn't laugh, and as it turns out, I am uncomfortable with him not talking non-stop. Except for the occasional sniffling, it is too quiet. I break the silence with: "Tell me about your little brother, Gus."

"I haven't seen him in three years, he is so big now. The last time I talked to him we talked on Skype. Months and months ago, it feels like years. I saw him then, but it's not the same. I fear I may never see him again." And then in typical fashion he says, "He adores me of course."

"Sure he does," I laugh.

"Well, what is not to adore?"

"Indeed."

And just like that, Mr. Confident is back. He wipes his face off with a rag he finds in the jeep and then blows his nose on it. As he cranks the jeep, he glances at the gauges and then hits the wheel with both hands.

"What?" I ask.

"Well, no supplies, huh? We packed nothing but eggs. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I forgot to check for petrol. How stupid. We are almost on empty."

Dumb for sure, but I'm dumb too because I didn't check either. Damn my single mindedness. Go, leave. Don't bother being prepared, even though it is one of my dad's, not to mention the Boy Scout's, number one rules. Be prepared. I feel stupid too, but there's no time to waste on beating ourselves up over a stupid mistake.

"We could scavenge on our way," I say.

"Maybe, but that will slow us down."

"Turn around," I say. "We can go back."

Gus thinks about it. "Yeah, but it might take too long, we are closer to Mount Airy than Dobson."

"Well, keep going. We might make it at least to the city limits."

"Too late for that," Gus says as the jeep sputters and sputters and almost refuses to stop cold, but then does just that.