15. The Dark Tornado

Tom tried to think of something not merely evil, but dastardly, but was coming up short. He had assumed it would be easy, but he was stuck. He roamed the streets of San Francisco looking for inspiration, but all he found was crowds, noise, fog and the usual assortment of people who thought they were normal, but weren't, and people who thought they were weird, but weren't. He thought he would know it when he saw it, but he didn't. He avoided the Marina, because there was nothing to inspire anyone there. He stayed away from Twin Peaks, because it was just too cold and windy. He ventured out to The Cliff House, but the crazy old fun house equipment was gone. He heard it was somewhere in the East Bay now. He considered taking B.A.R.T. over there, but he hadn't actually set foot outside of the city in several years, and wasn't about to start without a good reason. Like most San Franciscans, he was pretty sure there was no intelligent life beyond the city limits.

He walked and walked and walked. He must have walked down every street in every likely neighborhood, grasping for inspiration. He had some minor diabolical notions having to do with parking spaces and stickers. He pulled a few mean tricks involving pedestrians and traffic lights. For petty amusement he let some strapping young men drop their bundles on the sidewalk and strain to pick them up again, filling their minds with the belief that, for example, a roll of paper towels was just too heavy for them to lift. He marveled at the power of mind under matter, but it was a kind of pathetic humor. He barely cracked a smile the whole time.

Walking through Dolores Park one momentarily sunny afternoon, he heard a sound that drew his attention. It was like a trail of children wailing, one after another, in a line that seemed to follow one particular boy. Tom watched as this boy made his way through the park, deliberately kicking other kids' toys, knocking kids down, pushing his way right through them. He was a larger boy, clearly a bully, strong and heavy with thick black hair and a loose flannel shirt that hung down nearly to his knees. Outraged parents could only gape in anger and frustration as this one-boy wrecking crew savaged his way across the park. Some of the moms stood up as if to challenge him, but he was already gone, like a dark tornado. Tom rushed to head him off at the corner of 16th and Dolores.

"Hey, kid", he called out as the boy approached, but the boy merely glanced at him and scowled, and hustled across the street.

"Kid, hey kid", Tom called again, hurrying after him, "Hey, I just want to ask you a question."

"Whatever!", the boy tossed over his shoulder, picking up speed. Tom matched and overcame his pace. All that walking had done his legs some good, and soon he was beside the boy and kept nagging at him until the boy finally stopped, turned to face him and demanded,

"What you want with me, man?"

"Just want to ask you a question", Tom repeated. "Easy now, okay?", he added, as the boy was putting on his mad face.

"What question?" the boy wanted to know.

"What would you do?", Tom asked, "If you wanted to make the world even worse than it already is?"

"What kind of question is that?", the boy asked. "You messing with me?"

"No, no", Tom said. "I mean it. I really want to know. Seemed to me like you might be the guy who could tell me."

"Lots of stuff", the boy said, considering. "But it's going to cost you."

"What?" Tom hadn't considered that the boy might have an asking price.

"Yeah, I'm hungry", the boy said, and after a bit of haggling they agreed to head over to his favorite local taqueria where the boy could get whatever he wanted, which turned out to be a super burrito, guacamole and chips, and a naranjada. By the time they found a corner table and got their food, Tom had found out that the boy was twelve years old, that he went by the name of LJ, and that he didn't like anyone messing with him and if they knew what was good for them they wouldn't even try.

"What you want to know for, anyway?', LJ inquired.

"That's my business", Tom told him. LJ seemed to respect that. He nodded, and thought carefully while chomping on his chips.

"You could always hurt people", he said. "That's the first thing, right? Make 'em suffer, Take away their stuff. Make 'em sick. Make 'em angry."

"Yeah", Tom nodded, "but that stuff happens all the time. That's not worse, that's normal. You see my problem?"

"You want something special," LJ reflected. "Especially worse. Not just regular worse. Hmmm. Could be tricky."

"Can't be anything that could happen any day", Tom agreed, "so that pretty much rules out violence, greed, corruption, crime, ..."

"... explosions, bombs, car crashes, murder", LJ continued.

"None of that stuff", Tom shook his head.

"How about earthquakes," LJ considered, "like the big one they always talking about."

"Can't do that", Tom said, and added, with a chuckle, "a man's got to know his limitations", but LJ didn't get the Dirty Harry reference. He just sucked in his lower lip and nodded.

"So what can you do?", LJ asked, and Tom hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he should tell the kid, but on consideration decided he really had nothing to lose, so he told him about the device. LJ laughed out loud.

"You full of shit", he said. Tom just sat there, biding his time.

"So you telling me", LJ went on, "you can put some thoughts in somebody's head and they donna do what you want them to?"

"I'll show you", Tom said, looking around. He wanted to find a suitable target and make them do something that LJ would appreciate.

"See that girl?", he gestured toward the counter.

"The one in the black dress? With the barbed wire tattoo on her neck?"

"That's the one", Tom said, surreptitiously pointing the little stick at her and pushing down gently on the amber tag button. "What do you want her to do?"

"Heh", LJ said, embarrassed. "You mean anything?"

"No, I don't mean anything", Tom snapped. "I'll do it", and he tapped a few words onto the device with his stick. He held up the device and showed the phrase to LJ, who read it and shurugged.

"Sure", he said. "Whatever".

Tom pointed at the glowing yellow dot that represented the girl, waited until she was walking away with her order, then tapped on the dot. LJ watched astonished as the girl stopped walking, slowly bent down to put her foil-wrapped burrito onto the floor, stood back up again, and then stomped on it with her boots until it was a mushy mess. She casually turned and walked out of the restaurant, leaving the busboy staring after her and hurrying to clean up the mess.

"Holy shit", LJ declared. "You made her do that!"

"Exactly that", Tom said, and read from the screen, "I am going to put this on the floor, smash it, and walk away."

"You can really make anyone do anything?"

"Nothing they can't do", Tom clarified. "It's not magic. It's just mind control."

"Holy fuck", the boy said. "Holy shit."

"Watch your mouth", said Tom. LJ blinked rapidly and was speechless for a time.

"I'm going to have to think about this", he finally said.