The Kingdon of No Worries Read online

  SAMI: “Where’s close?”

  ME: “The river.”

  SAMI: “The river? What’s at the river, a dead fish?”

  CHARLIE: “I don’t wanna see a dead fish.”

  ME: “It’s not a dead fish. It’s special. Trust me, you’ll be impressed.”

  They stare at me with untrusting faces but follow me down to the river. Charlie whines all the way.

  CHARLIE: “Carry me, Billie-Jean. Carry me. Carry me. Carry me, Billie-Jean …”

  ME: “Shut up, Charlie!”

  SAMI: “Okay. There’s the river. Where’s the surprise?”

  ME: “There.”

  SAMI: “Where?”

  ME: “Right there.”

  SAMI: “What, that? That’s a swamp. What’s so exciting about a swamp?”

  ME: “It’s not a swamp. It’s land.”

  SAMI: “Okay. So ..?”

  ME: “It doesn’t belong to anybody.”

  When Sami frowns, his forehead reaches down to the top of his nose, his lips curl up, and his face looks like a baloney sandwich. Charlie’s face does the opposite; his eyes open wide and his ears go back like a chihuahua.

  CHARLIE: “You mean … it doesn’t belong to anybody?”

  ME: “That’s right.”

  SAMI: “You mean … nobody?”

  ME: “Nobody.”

  CHARLIE: “You mean … it’s for the taking?”

  Chapter 3

  WE’RE SITTING IN my tree fort in the backyard. It’s getting dark. Over a junk-food feast we have talked ourselves into the creation of our own country. We have to work out a few details, but we’ve basically decided to take possession of the land in the river before anyone else does. We figure it can become an entirely new country, independent and free, governed by the laws we will make. We will devote our summer to creating those laws; we just can’t agree on what sort of country it should be. I think it should be a democracy, Charlie wants an aristocracy, and Sami wants a kingdom. The problem is: none of us knows for sure what those are. We have a lot to learn, and fast.

  SAMI: “Well, that’s ironic.”

  ME: “What’s ironic?”

  SAMI: “Here we are on the last day of school, with the freedom we’ve been waiting for all year, and now that we’ve got it, all we want to do is study.”

  CHARLIE: “That’s depressing.”

  SAMI: “We’ll probably learn more than we ever learned in school.”

  CHARLIE: “We’ll probably learn more than our teachers.”

  ME: “I don’t care; I just want that land.”

  CHARLIE: “I feel sick.”

  ME: “You ate too much candy.”

  CHARLIE: “No, I didn’t.”

  ME: “We all did. Where’s that bag of Halloween candy that I kept under my bed all year?”

  CHARLIE: “You kept it under your bed?”

  ME: “Yeah.”

  CHARLIE: “With spiders and silverfish and earwigs?”

  ME: “Yeah. There are wrappers on the candy. Where’s the bag?”

  SAMI: “It’s under the chips bowl.”

  ME: “No, it isn’t.”

  SAMI: “It was before. Look again.”

  ME: “I just did. It’s not there.”

  SAMI: “It couldn’t disappear into thin air.”

  CHARLIE: “I ate it.”

  ME: “You ate the whole bag?”

  CHARLIE: “I have a high metabolism.”

  ME: “There were other things in that bag, Charlie. You’d better give me back the crayons and eraser.”

  CHARLIE: “Crayons and eraser? I ate crayons and an eraser?”

  SAMI: “They won’t hurt you.”

  CHARLIE: “Yes, they will! You guys better rush me to the hospital.”

  ME: “No way! You’re fine. They’ll pass through you.”

  CHARLIE: “No, they won’t. They’ll clog my arteries and give me a heart attack. We have to go to the hospital.”

  ME: “How could you eat crayons and an eraser, Charlie? Didn’t you notice?”

  CHARLIE: “We were so busy talking. I was distracted.”

  ME: “I think I would know when I was eating an eraser.”

  SAMI: “It’s just wax and rubber, Charlie. The eraser is probably even good for your arteries.”

  CHARLIE: “They’re gonna kill me. I’m feeling really sick now. You guys have to take me to the hospital.”

  ME: “Actually, I just remembered there were no crayons or eraser in that bag; I made a mistake.”

  CHARLIE: “You’re lying.”

  ME: “No, I’m not. Really.”

  CHARLIE: “Now you’re lying about lying.”

  ME: “Charlie …”

  CHARLIE: “We have to go to the hospital right now. Go ask your dad to drive us.”

  ME: “Charlie, there were no crayons or eraser in that bag. I just made a mistake.”

  SAMI: “Guys, can we get on with making our own country now?”

  CHARLIE: “I have to throw up.”

  ME: “Don’t throw up in here!”

  CHARLIE: Burrrrrrrrrrrrrp!

  ME: “What was that?”

  SAMI: “I think it was a crayon burp.”

  CHARLIE: “Actually … I feel better now.”

  SAMI: “Good. Can we get on with it?”

  ME: “We have to have a democracy, guys, so everyone can vote.”

  CHARLIE: “But I want an aristocracy.”

  ME: “Charlie, an aristocracy is just for rich people.”

  CHARLIE: “I know. That’s what I like about it. If we make an aristocracy we’ll be rich.”

  ME: “It doesn’t work like that.”

  CHARLIE: “Yes, it does.”

  ME: “No, it doesn’t.”

  SAMI: “Guys, democracies and aristocracies aren’t very special. Kingdoms are special. I think it should be a kingdom.”

  ME: “A kingdom has to have a king, Sami.”

  SAMI: “So?”

  ME: “There are three of us.”

  CHARLIE: “In case you haven’t noticed.”

  SAMI: “We’ll take turns.”

  ME: “Take turns being king?”

  SAMI: “Why not?”

  CHARLIE: “First! I called first.”

  ME: “Can it be a democracy and a kingdom at the same time?”

  CHARLIE: “Nope.”

  SAMI: “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Merilee? She’ll know.”

  ME: “Okay.”

  CHARLIE: “We could set up an amusement park, and charge people for attendance.”

  SAMI: “Pretty small amusement park.”

  CHARLIE: “Not if we build straight up, like in Hong Kong.”

  SAMI: “I think we should open a casino.”

  ME: “You can’t just open a casino.”

  CHARLIE: “We can do whatever we want in our own country.”

  SAMI: “That’s true.”

  ME: “But how do we declare it a country?”

  SAMI: “We need a flag. We need to stick it in the ground. I’ll make one.”

  ME: “Okay.”

  CHARLIE: “We’ll need a national anthem. Every country has one. I’ll write one.”

  ME: “Okay.”

  SAMI: “We’ll need a standing army.”

  ME: “What’s a standing army?”

  SAMI: “I don’t know; it’s an army.”

  ME: “We’ll have to be the army for now. We can hire real soldiers later.”

  CHARLIE: “What about weapons?”

  ME: “I can bring my pellet gun.”

  SAMI: “I can bring my Swiss Army knife.”

  CHARLIE: “I can bring a plunger.”

  ME: “A plunger?”

  CHARLIE: “People are afraid of plungers. You’d be surprised.”

  ME: “Okay. What else do we need?”

  SAMI: “A political system.”

  ME: “Oh, boy. We’d better write this down.”

  CHARLIE: “Who are we going to let in?”

 
SAMI: “Everyone.”

  CHARLIE: “Even people with weird religions?”

  SAMI: “It doesn’t matter what religion you have.”

  CHARLIE: “But what about the ones who come to your door to brainwash you into giving them all your money?”

  SAMI: “We don’t have to join their church just because they come to our country, Charlie.”

  CHARLIE: “What about neo-Nazis?”

  ME: “No way! That’s not a religion; that’s a political group. They’re practically terrorists. No terrorists are allowed.”

  SAMI: “Definitely no terrorists.”

  CHARLIE: “What about genders?”

  ME: “What about them?”

  CHARLIE: “Which ones will we let in?”

  SAMI: “All of them. It doesn’t matter what your gender is.”

  CHARLIE: “How many are there?”

  ME: “I don’t know, lots.”

  SAMI: “All genders are welcome. Our country is completely open and tolerant. We want to set an example for the world.”

  ME: “That’s right. An example for the world.”

  CHARLIE: “What are we going to call it?”

  ME: “Call what?”

  CHARLIE: “Our country.”

  SAMI: “Hakuna matata.”

  ME: “We can’t. That’s copyrighted.”

  CHARLIE: “Which means ..?”

  ME: “Which means we can’t use it or we’ll get sued.”

  CHARLIE: “What does hakuna matata mean anyway?”

  SAMI: “Didn’t you watch The Lion King?”

  CHARLIE: “Yeah, like six years ago.”

  SAMI: “You should watch it again. It’s only the greatest movie ever made. It means ‘no worries.’”

  ME: “The Kingdom of No Worries?”

  SAMI: “Yeah. The Kingdom of No Worries. That’s awesome.”

  CHARLIE: “Sounds good to me. I’ve got to go home.”

  ME: “I’ve got to go inside.”

  SAMI: “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”

  ME: “Go by the fence.”

  SAMI: “No, I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”

  ME: “Oh. You’d better go home.”

  CHARLIE: “Let’s meet tomorrow after we’ve looked all this stuff up.”

  ME: “Okay.”

  SAMI: “Okay.”

  Chapter 4

  MERILEE’S MEETING MEHRA and Marcie and they’re going to school. They are the ones who take the summer programs that would prematurely end the lives of people like Sami, Charlie, and me. They’d have to drag us into the school kicking and screaming and scratching at the bricks with bleeding fingers. Then they’d have to take us out in coffins. But the Three Fates go willingly, which just shows how there are completely different species amongst human beings, even in the same family.

  I appear at the open bathroom door, where Merilee is brushing her teeth and cleaning her face. Merilee doesn’t wear makeup because it’s just a clever marketing scheme to keep women enslaved. I feel like telling her that wearing her hair up like that makes her look older than her teachers. I open my mouth, but no words come out. She turns and looks down at me like a bird with a long sharp beak. “Yes?”

  “I have a couple of questions.”

  She frowns. She is suspicious. “What? It’s summer. Why aren’t you out killing frogs somewhere?”

  “I don’t kill frogs.”

  “What sort of questions? If this is about your wee-wee, you’d better ask Dad, not me.”

  “It’s not about that. This is serious.”

  “I have to make lunch. Follow me.”

  I follow her into the kitchen. I have a terrible feeling that I am supposed to be outside and not come back inside until the summer is over, that I am getting myself into something I might deeply regret, and yet I know we cannot move forward with our country if we don’t have more information. I am also wondering why I have gone to school all these years and I don’t know anything about anything.

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  I look down at the paper in my hand where I scribbled a bunch of questions. “What’s the difference between a democracy and a kingdom?”

  Merilee turns her beak towards me again. She’s still suspicious.

  “Hmmm. A democracy is a form of government based upon an assumption of equality for everyone. Everyone is entitled to vote, and the elected government is beholden to the people. A kingdom is not a form of government; it’s a form of state, which is typically ruled by a monarchy, which is a form of government, essentially an exploitative form of government in which everything is owned by the ruling monarch, and all of the citizens are subjects, subject to the ruler’s whims, taxes, punishments, etc. But a lot of monarchies these days are constitutional monarchies, in which case the king or queen is reduced to a figurehead without real power, and the monarchy is basically a democracy under a different name. Why do you ask?”

  “Because we found some new land and we want to make it our own country, but we haven’t decided yet what form of government we want, except that Sami wants it to be a kingdom.”

  Merilee shakes her head. “They’ll throw you in jail.”

  “Who will?”

  “The police, acting on behalf of the city. Governments don’t take kindly to anarchy.”

  “What’s anarchy?”

  “Intentional disobedience. Look, I’ve got to get to school. Come here.”

  I follow her back upstairs into her room. The walls are lined with bookshelves. Books are open on the desk, the floor, and the windowsills. It doesn’t look like a bedroom at all, but the heart of a jungle, where all the hanging vines and plants are books strung together, and books rise out of the moss like ferns. In one corner is a small bed, hiding beneath open books. It reminds me of a picture I saw in National Geographic magazine of a WWII airplane that went down on an island in the Pacific. The plane was so buried beneath coconut crabs, spiders, and snakes, you could hardly tell what it was.

  Merilee goes to one bookshelf, pulls down a dull grey book and hands it to me. “Read this. It will give you the answers you are looking for.” Then she goes out the door.

  I turn the book over in my hands. I have only ever seen books like this in museums, or used as doorstoppers, or to hold up wobbly picnic tables. I didn’t know people actually read them. The cover is too worn to make out the title, so I open it and look inside. It is The Republic by Plato. I turn a page and stare at the table of contents. I start to get that dizzy feeling like I am going to fall asleep, but a couple of lines catch my eye. “Selection of Rulers … The Philosopher King … Timocracy … Democracy and the Democratic Man … Oligarchy … Plutocracy … Despotism …”

  I can’t help feeling I have stumbled upon a book of secrets. On one hand, the book is completely unreadable. The words look like the names of bugs that never made it onto the scientific classification charts. On the other hand, I have a sneaky feeling that it holds the secret to taking ownership of that piece of land. I feel a bit like Aladdin; all I have to do is rub the lamp … or, well, read the book.

  I meet Sami and Charlie at the river. Sami’s carrying a green folder under his arm. Charlie holds a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. It looks like a candy wrapper. I’m carrying a pole and shovel in my hands, and the book in my backpack. We come together without a word, sit down and stare at the river, and don’t speak for at least five minutes. I think we are nervous. Each is waiting for the other to say the words that will commit us for life to this sandy patch of ground surrounded by lazily flowing water.

  Finally, Charlie breaks the silence.

  CHARLIE: “What’s in your pack?”

  ME: “A book.”

  SAMI: “What book?”

  ME: “The Republic. By Plato. It’s got our answers in it. Merilee said so.”

  CHARLIE “Did you read it?”

  ME: “I opened it. It’s pretty dense. It’s mostly a conversation between these two guys, but they’re talking about all the stuff we’re talking abo
ut. So far they’ve said that a king has to be a philosopher.”

  CHARLIE: “A philosopher? Why does a king have to be a philosopher?”

  ME: “I don’t know. I think they just mean he’s supposed to be wise.”

  CHARLIE: “Oh.”

  SAMI: “I looked up countries inside other countries on the net and printed it up. It’s really cool. Look. Here’s Lesotho. It’s a country inside South Africa. It’s a kingdom, too, and it’s a democracy … sort of.”

  ME: “That’s great.”

  SAMI: “And here’s San Marino. It’s in Italy. It’s a democracy, too. And there’s Monaco, in France. It’s a constitutional monarchy; and Vatican City, in Italy.”

  ME: “Vatican City? Isn’t that where the Pope lives?”

  SAMI: “Yeah.”

  ME: “And that’s a country?”

  SAMI: “Yup.”

  ME: “But isn’t it just a city inside another city?”

  SAMI: “Yup.”

  ME: “But it’s a country?”

  SAMI: “Yeah.”

  CHARLIE: “I don’t think Vatican City is a democracy. I think there’s only one person there who can vote: the Pope.”

  ME: “That’s okay. Not every place has to be a democracy. If the Kingdom of Lesotho can be a democracy, then the Kingdom of No Worries can be a democracy, too.”

  SAMI: “That’s right.”

  ME: “Good work, Sami. What did you bring, Charlie?”

  CHARLIE: “This.”

  He unfolds the wrapper.

  ME: “What’s that?”

  CHARLIE: “Our anthem.”

  SAMI: “Really? Awesome.”

  ME: “You actually wrote an anthem?”

  CHARLIE: “Yes.”

  ME: “That’s awesome!”

  SAMI: “Let’s hear it.”

  Charlie jumps up and gets into his MJ pose.

  CHARLIE: “Okay. It goes to the music of ‘Billie Jean.’”

  ME: “Wait! We can’t use that, Charlie. It’s copyrighted.”

  CHARLIE: “No, it’s okay. I made up new words.”

  ME: “Yeah, but the music is copyrighted. We’ll get sued.”

  SAMI: “We can’t get sued in our own country.”

  ME: “Oh, yeah. Okay. Let’s hear it.”

  Charlie flattens his hand against his belly, and tilts his head forward as if he’s wearing a hat. Then he takes off the hat and throws it onto an imaginary stage. We have to listen carefully, because the words come out fast.