Mad Boys Read Online Free PDF Page A

said.
    “Raygight,” he said.
    I felt an instant hero-worship for this boy. He seemed to throw off light from within; his voice was full of command, without being bossy. He had my full attention.
    “Who are you? And how did you find me here?” I asked.
    “Your picture was in the newspaper. Lost boy. Amnesia. Flying saucer stories. They’ve got an APB out on you. You better get out of here, or pretty soon your so-called loved ones are going to be on your trail.”
    “What do you care?”
    “I don’t, really. I don’t care about anybody but me. But I always follow my instincts, and when I read the news account about you, my instincts brought me here. I knew you were one of my own kind.”
    “You mean we’re related?” I said.
    “We’re virtual brothers. I mean that like me you got away.”
    “You think I ran away from home.”
    “Exactly. Life was so bad there you had to bug out. I know that routine. Once they find you, all they’re going to do is bring you back to the life you hate.”
    “Actually, an alien being from outer space . . .” I started to tell my story over again, wondering how I was going keep the details straight. I’d forgotten half the stuff I’d said to the doctors. But it didn’t matter. The boy cut me off before I got started.
    “I hear ‘spaceship,’ and I want to yawn. When you find one that can make some money, give me a call.”
    “You saying I’m a liar,” I challenged him.
    “I’m saying you’re a sicko,” he said.
    I suppose he should have made me angry, but instead he relaxed me. I couldn’t fool this teenage whiz bomb, so why should I try? “Tell me who you are,” I said.
    “Royal Durocher. My associates call me Royal. Notice that I said associates, not friends. I don’t believe in friendship. There’s no profit in it. I believe in partnership. I do something for you, you do something for me. Want to know the secret of my power?”
    “Sure do.”
    “There’s no love in my heart. That’s my power. It’s the power of Satan himself.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “I’m the son of a rich record producer who lost everything in the 1987 stock market crash. My mother abandoned me when I was an infant, so I hated her. If you won’t love your mother, why should you love anybody?”
    “That’s sad.”
    “Don’t you pity me. There’s no reason for it. You see, I’m not discouraged. I’m completely undiscouragable. I’m infuriatingly upbeat; I’m a positive thinker; I’m more gifted than a cross between a porpoise and a parrot. To sum it up, I am the proud possessor of ‘the gift.’”
    “‘The gift’—what gift?”
    “The entrepreneurial gift. Enough about me. We have to get you out of this joint,” he said.
    Though I’d been bent on escape, now that it was put to me that I ought to leave, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to go. “Maybe I don’t want to escape. Maybe I just want to find out who I am. And if you’re so smart, you show me how to get my memory back.”
    “Okay. Sometimes drastic measures are called for.” Royal picked up the bedpan and knocked me on the head with it. I saw stars, saw a green and gold frog, saw a dark, oily shadow, saw a grinning fat man, then blacked out for about a ten-second count. When I came to, I was fingering a lump the size of a tomcat’s hairball on my right temple.
    “Remember anything?” Royal said.
    I thought and thought. Blank tape. “No. You’re not going to hit me again, are you?”
    “Why should I? It didn’t work. One more blow and I might kill you, and that would help neither one of us. I’ll think of something else.”
    “I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my head.
    “Look,” he said, “if you want to stay here and wait for your loved ones, go ahead. Know what grown-ups do? Make you suffer in your heart.” Royal thumped his chest.
    I thought about that for a minute. As far as I knew, I had no loved ones. What I did have, though, was a hollow place inside that needed to be filled