In the attic I found an accordion folder that had some of my old papers in it. One was a story I wrote in Mr. Black’s English class in high school. It was about a guy who is allowed to travel back in time, but isn’t able to choose where he goes. He figures since he’s white and has some basic mechanical knowledge, he’ll be fine wherever he goes. He gets sent back in time to the medieval ages, right in the middle of a castle. He’s very excited until he realizes the castle has been besieged for a month. People are starving and the barbarians are at the gates. Everyone asks the new guy how they can be saved, and he introduces the idea of a gun and cannon. He doesn’t have the materials though, so everyone gets mad that he got their hopes up. Then the besiegers begin catapulting animal carcasses over the castle walls to drive the people out due to stench and disease. The people again ask him what to do, and he says, “Well, don’t eat those things.” And then, and this was Sammy’s favorite line when I read it to him, a villager says, “No shit, Sherlock!” Sherlock wasn’t even invented yet, Sammy said. But then I told him Sherlock was the loser wizard of the castle that everyone made fun of, so it actually made perfect sense.
The guy from the present does know enough about biology to realize they had to burn the animals. So they burned all the rotting carcasses, but it still stunk really bad. The guy sits on a bale of hay and someone asks him what they’re going to do now, but the guy doesn’t have any more ideas. Someone from the town says, “This guy’s no better than Sherlock!”, then someone comes up behind the guy and clubs him in the head and kills him. The end.
In his comments on the paper, Mr. Black asked me, “WHAT IS THE THEME OF THIS STORY? WHAT IS IT REALLY ABOUT?” Around seventeen years later I still don’t know what Mr. Black was talking about when he wrote that. The themes are endless. Don’t travel back in time unless you have power of time and destination. If traveling in time, bring a backpack full of do-it-yourself manuals. Even if there is no manual on our current bookshelves about surviving a medieval siege, there might be one about building your own trebuchet. But the primary theme is: try to avoid being dumber than the scapegoat. Every scared victim of bullying knows this.
I also found a sheet of names from when Sammy, Boyce, Rachel and I had a long conversation over drinks and Led Zeppelin about who we would be as superheroes. Sammy said he would be called Ham Radio, but his power would be shooting lightning bolts out of his face. Naturally, we asked him why he wasn’t called Zeus or Lightning-man. Sammy said, a) people would think it was weird, and their last thought upon dying from horrifying electric burns would be, “Ham radio? I don’t get it.”, and b) as a superhero he would spend his down time operating a ham radio, thus naming himself after his hobby rather than his power. Boyce said he would be a villain, aptly named The Locksmith. His hands would turn into keys which he could open any door with, or he could just punch people with his key-hands. Sammy asked him how he would do with combination safes, and we all agreed they would be his mortal enemy. Rachel said she would be The Locust. She thought the name really resonated on a lot of levels. She wasn’t sure what her power was, so she said she would somehow cause the end of the world. Plus she could jump high. God, she would always say the best things.
My superhero was named Lesser Bird of Paradise, after the bird, Lesser Bird of Paradise. And I wasn’t so much a superhero as I was a bird. Specifically, a Lesser Bird of Paradise. When the others said that’s not how it worked, I accused them of discriminating against the ethical impulses of Class Aves. We agreed to a compromise: I was allowed to be Lesser Bird of Paradise, the Lesser Bird of Paradise, official pet-sidekick of Ham Radio. We even worked out some signature lines for everyone, just in case they made comic books of us:
Ham Radio: I hope your searing burns don't interfere with my amateur radio antennae!
The Locksmith: I am a locksmith!The Locust: Prepare to meet thy God--booooiiiinnnnnnggggg!!!!!!!!!
The Lesser Bird of Paradise: [mute]
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| A Lesser Bird of Paradise, like me, Lesser Bird of Paradise, the Lesser Bird of Paradise |
