The Carson

Carson was the best kid that ever existed . He lived nearby and I tutored him in science. He wasn't even in high school yet but his parents wanted him to be ‘above the rest.’ Overbearing fools. Ruining a perfectly good boy’s life. The poor child never got to see the light of day. I felt bad for him but it worked out well for me as a second job. You’d think that having two jobs would make me stable but the bills just kept pilling on.

"So, Skyky," Carson said fifteen minutes after I got there. "Mum left some pizza for us in the fridge. You know, since it’s Sunday and all. Gotta be nice for Jesus. Can we have a break?"

I always felt so sorry for him and now I couldn't refuse the kid some food. We sat down and ate. I looked forward to Sundays for two reasons. Riveting conversations with Carson and the food that his parents left for us. These were my salvation. Pathetic, but true. I was used to brown bread, canned food and the occasional won-in-a-bet stale chocolate cake. His parents always left us pizza because it was Carson’s favorite. Coincidentally, it was my favorite too.

"How's work?" he asked. He shook away the black hair that fell to his face and took a bite of his pizza. "Why are you still in that soul sucking job?"

This child was brilliant and he was only nine. Sometimes I thought he knew more than me and didn't even need tutoring. I brought it up once but he just said that it didn't matter. He enjoys my company and his parents have loads to spare. I needed the money, so I stuck with it.

"Because apparently it will get better,” I replied. “But I don't think my life's going anywhere."

"Don't worry, Skyky. I feel that way too."

"Your life hasn't even begun yet!"

"Neither has yours," he winked.

I know what you're thinking. A heavy conversation to have with a nine year old. But seriously, this was nothing. We discussed philosophy and facts about the world. He was a genius.

"It is going to get better." He patted my arm. "Trust me."

I'm taking motivation from a kid. I didn't even like children but Carson was different. He was the exception.

"Sure. Now finish your piece and let's get back to studying."

"Do we have to?"

"Yes. I'd like to think I'm actually making a difference in your life."

"You are!" He jumped up, ran to his room and emerged in the doorway a few seconds later with a test in his small hands.

"What! You got 100%?"

"That's nothing," he smirked. "Check the grade."

"This is a test for two grades above you! Carson!"

"See! You are making a difference."

"How'd you - what the -" I was speechless. This wasn't my doing. There was stuff here that we haven't even got to yet. That he had years more to reach.

"You really are a genius! I called it first."

His parents were crazy not to take my advice and let him skip a few grades. Morons.

"Promise me that when you discover something or they give you the Nobel Peace prize or something, you'll thank me in your acceptance speech."

"Yes, I will. You'll be living it up by that time."

"Yeah. In the boondocks. Selling fruits at the street corners."

Damn, I was so depressing to be around.

He wrinkled his tiny nose. "No, no! I'm going to make the world a better place. There will be no ranks and poverty. Everyone is going to be happy. I'll save the world one day." He was so optimistic it was almost funny. He stuffed his tiny mouth with pizza and wiped his fingers on his shirt’s sleeve. He was a genius, but he was still a kid.

"Maybe. But what makes you think you can save it?" I asked, handing him a serviette. I’m sure his mother would blow a gasket if there were oil stains on her son’s clothes.

He ignored the serviette. "I believe it will change, with a little help. I still have hope for the world."

"Ha! Don't. You're setting yourself up for disappointment." Humph. Kids.

He didn't seem too discouraged. He kept on talking about how he was going to eradicate poverty and crime. He refused to focus on anything else so I asked him how science could influence this new world he had planned. He incorporated it in imaginative ways and that's about all the learning he got done.

By the time it was time for me to go, we were all talked out.

"So, Carson. What did you learn today?"

"That I'll be buying fruits at the street corner of the boondocks every day."

"Very funny," I said just as his parents pulled up in the driveway. He cringed.

"You should rather ask mum what she learnt at church today. I'm sure Lorraine is fighting with her husband again. Or Charmaine has gained some weight."

Goodness, this kid. I ruffled his hair and told him to "Stay in school."

He replied, "If I have to."

That was our 'thing' when we had to say goodbye. Honestly, I was one step away from contacting social services and telling them that his parents were total nut cases.

And I would have done it, too. But as I passed the mirror by the doorway I saw myself, and so help me God, I could’ve sworn the image moved. Not me. Just my image. I blinked a million times before mentally slapping myself back to reality. Flip it, I was going insane. So I couldn't report this to the social workers. They wouldn't listen to a crazy person call someone else crazy.  But what was that adage? Takes one to know one.

Was I going crazy? How does a person even know if they're crazy, anyway? It has got to be these pills I'm taking. I'd gotten them from a local 'pharmacist.' I swore.

"What'd you just say?" Carson asked.

Suppressing more vulgarity, I realised what an idiot I had been. Yup, that's me. Skylar Cress - corruptioner of the youth. Thanking the heavens he hadn't heard me cuss I said, "Nothing. Was just thinking out loud."

"Okay," he shrugged. "I'm hungry."

"You're your parents’ problem now," I said , and left after collecting my payment.