Christopher Doctor, author of our Love Doctor column, is writing a novel. It’s called THE BOY WHO COULD DO ANYTHING. The few pages we’ve read so far are pretty damn good, but we want to know what you think. And the Love Doctor really wants to know what you think!
Read the prologue below and share your thoughts in the comment section. Are you intrigued, want to read more? Tell us!
THE BOY WHO COULD DO ANYTHING: Prologue
Once upon a time, there lived a boy. A boy who was not a boy, simply yet to be a man. A boy who ran through grass in an eternal dark sky, who’s path would become lit by millions of fireflies. A boy who counseled God, let him know when he needed to cry, and the boy who told him it was okay for the sun to shine. The boy was known to some as Pete, but to everybody, he was the boy who could do anything.
Pete did not come from a rich family. Nor did he perform miracles to lift his family from debt. Pete, at the age of 16, simply got a job. His father was a struggling salesman. His mother stayed at home. Everyday for the Turner family, was a chance, as Pete’s father often said, “a chance to make a big turn.”
So the Turner family moved, again, and again. The only turns coming from the wheels of an over-aged 1993 Taurus station wagon who’s odometer might have read “Enough” if Pete had anything to say about it. The Turner family luggage consisted of mostly sales supplies. Everyday things like pens, paper, and other more vague things that Pete’s father tried to trick people into buying.
Pete’s father had a vacuum that’s power was measured by an anemometer. It was said to extract micro-bacteria from rugs that should be left for dead. It only worked when Pete touched it. Pete’s father was always too busy to notice, but the boy never seemed to need much. Through every move the Turner family made, Pete kept only one item. A 13′ inch black and white TV which produced more static than picture. It was more than enough for simple, not so simple Pete.
Pete would have many stories by the time he was a man, but this story was special. This story was not, in particular, directly about Pete, it was about the other people who would begin to believe, that they too, could do anything.
It began when the Turner family moved to New Jersey. An island full of highways, an industrial scene that was not quite yet complete. Yet, as he lie in the back of the wagon he liked to picture as his personal limousine, Pete stared intently into his little TV. He came to a conclusion before they reached their newest prosaic estate.
Pete knew in his heart, that New Jersey, was one of the many bridges in the world that led to everything.
(If you’d like to reach the author directly, email thirdchris [at] gmail [dot] com)