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Island of the Misfit Boys

Maximilian Weihe

    “Hey, new kid. What’s your name again?”
    “Jamie. You?”
    “Colton, but you can call me Colt. Say, why are you sitting in the sandbox alone?”
    I tighten my grip around the wooden walls that keeps me safe. “Felt like it,” I murmur.
    “That’s cool, I guess. Mind if I join you?”
    I was never given a chance to answer. Colt plops down across from me, causing sand particles to thicken the air and grizzle against my skin.
    “What’s it like?” Asks Colt.
    “What’s what like?” I reply.
    “What’s it like being blind?”
    “I dunno. What’s it like being whatever is wrong with you?” I ask.
    “How do know something is wrong with me? Can you see me?” replies Colt.
    “No, I still can’t see.”
    “Then how do you know something is wrong with me?”
    “We’re in the same class aren’t we?”
    “Oh, yeah. And for the record there is nothing wrong with me. My doctor says I’m special.”
    Even though I can’t see, I can hear the grin in his statement.
    “So what makes you so special?” I ask.
    “Can you...” Colt’s voice lowers to a whisper. “Keep a secret?”
    “Sure.”
    “I’m part robot. I’m a cyborg.”
    “Prove it,” I say.
    “Okay. Hold out your hand and prepare to be amazed.”
    Cold, hard fingers greet my hand and dance in my palm. I run my hand up his arm, examining the odd smoothness of his prosthetic. I continue to move up his arm until the terrain changes to his shoulder, wrinkled but filled with warmth. The scars almost burn my fingertips. Chills run throughout my arm and I pull back.
    “Keep going. There’s more.”
    Colt grabs my hand and places it on his face. At first his face seems normal: a mouth, a nose, eyes, the usual stuff. Above his right eyebrow I find the beginning of a trail. My finger tips sway in and out of the crevice as the cracks on the side of his head splinter and I’m greeted by a metal plate where the back of his skull should be. Colt laughs at the shocked look on my face.
    “Told you I was a cyborg,” he says.
    “What’s a cyborg doing in Elementary School?” I ask.
    “I’m only part robot. Hey, do you want to play a game?”
    “As long as it’s not catch,” I say.
    “I have an idea, be right back.”
    Colt prances out of the sandbox splashing sand into the air once again as his foot steps trail off into the distance. Within moments I hear his steps getting louder as he makes his return to the sandbox.
    “Smile for me, will ya?”
    “Why?”
    “You’ll find out soon enough,” says Colt.
    I do what was asked of me and smile. I feel a quick flash of warmth touch my face and a series of clicks and hums coming from where Colt is.
    “Jamie, hold out your hand?”
    “Again?” I ask.
    “Come on, hold out your hand.”
    Colt places what feels like a rectangular piece of paper in my palm. I run my fingers across the top side feeling a slick gloss and on the back I feel just paper.
    “What is it?” I ask.
    “It’s a picture of you, Jamie.”
    “Um, thanks? I can’t see it though.”
    “I know. I’m going to be your eyes. It’s part of the game,” says Colt.
    “What’s the name of this game?” I ask.
    “Sight.”

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