Cam knew it would do no good to play this game with the girl, but he couldn’t resist himself. He always played this game, because he always won. He always confused the children he played with, and laughed at their hopeless expressions. But he knew now that he could never tell them why. Telling them about the colors would only make things worse, and eventually a parent or caretaker, sometimes another neighbor, would come knocking on the door.
Sometimes Mother got mad, and sometimes she even made them leave their home. That was when she got upset, and yelled at him. Then they would walk on quietly, asking other travelers if they knew where a seamstress might be needed. That was Mother’s job, she’d told him once, and apparently it was a good one. She always found work, no matter where they went. Anyways, Mother had started to grow weary of leaving, and she no longer trusted him around other children.
Cam named off another object, and a color, then lost himself to laughter as the girl spun about, asking if every one she saw was the blue one. Again and again he played his part, and none of the contestants could realize that they were the victims of his cruel humor. Even he was becoming tired of the game by now though, but he could not stop. Something in him wanted to exploit his talent; his gift as Mother called.
So it was when the sharply dressed man arrived that he witnessed a girl nearly in tears
and Cameron spouting off colors between fits of laughter. “Young sir,” he asked gruffly, “what might be the meaning of this game you play?”
Cam stood petrified, his cheeks bathed in redness from his laughter, then refined by embarrassment. The river of words he wanted to let flow were dammed in his throat, leaving nothing but a resounding silence. And the girl quietly sputtering a few feet away. The man was not content with the results.
“I asked you, young sir, what were you trying to accomplish with this game?” At that he strode over to the girl and produced a handkerchief. He pet her gently and asked her if she was hurt, to which she replied that her head was spinning, and nothing else. When the man stood up he adjusted his tie and turned once again to face Cameron.
“If you aren’t guilty, you should have said so by now. And if you are…” he said with a tone of sympathy, “you should have run by now.”
Cam did nothing more than track this suit-clad stranger with his eyes, the rest of him remaining perfectly statue-esque. He could feel the dam breaking, but he could feel his eyes welling too. It would be all but confessing his guilt to cry.
“You know how society sees non-compliant citizens, I assume.” The stranger was circling like a hawk, or a vulture, depending on whether or not Cam was already dead meat. He continued before Cam could let loose his torrent of thoughts. “You also know how what we do with children who show the stages of unproductivity.” This time it was no question. It was a statement that had been thrown on the ground between them, for anyone and everyone to see.
Cam finally burst out “I didn’t mean to make her cry! I swear!” It was all over then. It
would have been better to say nothing at all, and let the buzzard feast. Now he had a hawk
coming at him with talons and a head of fury.
“Do you really think I believe a word of the garbage that you’re spewing because you are fooling yourself if that’s the case, sir!” His circles were constricting now, and it would only be a matter of time before he attacked..
“I apologize, if that’s what you want!” Cam was trapped, and like any prey would he was frantically trying to escape with his life. “I’m SORRY!” A single salty tear streaked down his cheek, but that would do him no good.
“Well now, your plea will do you nothing sir.” the stranger stopped his trajectory, turned on his heel, and stared straight into Cam. His eyes were the eyes of a beast that knows it’s gotten its kill. Big, bright, and maliciously they remained glued to Cameron, who only now realized that they were not pale grey like everyone else’s. They were icey-blue, and the only people who had colored-eyes were he and his mother, as far as he knew. They were also the only ones who had the gift…
“Correct me if I am mistaken,” he challenged, “but your mother is the seamstress, sir?” A smile crept onto his face then, but it was everything that a smile is not supposed to be. It was evil.
Cameron could barely mutter “Yes,” then stare at the ground. His ratty black shoelaces were undone, and hanging off the side of his red and white sneakers. He was standing on brownish green grass, but suddenly he wished that he did not know any of that.
“Well then,” said the suit mockingly, “it would appear that your gift runs in the family.”
It no longer surprised Cameron that the stranger knew, but the accusation was no less painful to bear.
All the other times an adult had come out, they just assumed that Cam was bullying their children, which he was, but they had never been like this. This was going to be bad. Very bad.
“What gift?” muttered Cam, trying to play off the whole incident. But the suit was not
impressed.
“DO NOT be coy with me child, I am not an imbecile.” Cam realized that this was the first time he’d not been called ‘sir’. Things must be boiling over now. “I have been assigned to follow you for a while now, so don’t think I don’t know what you are. I didn’t want to make a scene, but you have forced my hand.” Spittle was now flying from his mouth, and his face, as Cam noted, was tomato red.
“I can clearly see now that you have your mother’s talent, but you are a THOUSAND times better with them than she ever was.”
Now Cameron was really confused. Did this man know his mother? Did she know him? It was starting to get scary, and the ashen sky played to the mood.
“What do you want?” asked Cameron, for once looking at the man in the suit.
“There are a lot of things I want, but this is not about me. It’s all government business. We need people like you, to sort out our mess. Things get really hard to understand when our history is written in color, but all we see is grey.”
“I don’t understand,” said Cameron. “If you want me so bad, then why are you making this scene?”
Again a smile crept up his face, and the suit finally arrived at the moment of his triumph. “It would seem that I have forced your hand, sir. Come with me, or you can be dealt with here for your insubordination, inefficiency, and worst of all your lack of honesty.”
Cam was not such a fool to realize that he was had. To be dishonest was near a crime in this cohesive society, and now the people knew. Slowly, on leaden legs, he stumbled forward...