Sunday, June 8, 2014

Day 3: The Comic Book Generation


Today’s Prompt: It’s your 18th birthday and, upon it, your parents deliver some pretty shocking news: You’re not really human. They admit that they’ve been covering up the fact that you are actually a (fill in the blank). After hearing the news you still decide to go to school, but this school day is different than all your school days past, especially when it’s revealed to others what you truly are.
— Courtesy: WritersDigest.Com

Word Count: 1,406
            “I can’t make things pop out of thin air if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I could feel their eyes crawling all over me like a million needles and pins.
            “So what exactly do you do, then?” Alicia asked.
            “Maybe, he can spin a web like Spiderman.” Rebecca suggested.
There were a few giggles after that last statement.
            “Well…” I said.
            “Maybe, he can dance standing on his head.” That was Dick.
This announcement was followed by an uproar.
            “I’ve not really attempted that one but yeah, I think, maybe, I could if I gave it a try,” I said.
            “Don’t think. Just do it,” Dick said.
            “You don’t think before breathing, do you?” Rebecca.
            “Or before falling in love,” said a kid with a low punk haircut whom we called Groovy.
That got everybody in the classroom roaring with laughter. Even Amen, my best buddy, was slamming his fist into his desk again and again bellowing a belly laugh.
            “Sshhhh…..”
And the silence held sway for a moment.
Just then some kid in the front seat flung a ball made from crumpled paper at me. I caught if off the air and made a paper aircraft out of it in the space of 5 seconds and tossed it. It glided in an arc round the room and returned to me. I snatched it out of the air.
The silence weighed down on my eardrums like a dead weight. I felt the eyes of the entire class trained on me. As far as I was concerned, I knew I had done something awesome but if you asked me to create a chemical formula to explain the process, you’d be barking up the wrong tree.
            “Dude, how on earth did you do that?” Dick whose eyes bulged with surprise asked.
            “I didn’t think. I just did it,” said I.
            “Do it again,” Shorty said.
            “I can’t.” I lied. “I don’t know how it happened.” Which was true. “Reflexes, I guess.” Which was both the truth and a lie.
            “Reflexes, my butt,” said Ukwak (/who quack/) who we called Steel (which was the English word for his name to begin with). He was the biggest kid in class. He stepped to the front of the class and stepped up to me. He threw a one-two punch to my mid-section but I was the wind and got out of his way before he pulled the first punch. He wasn’t expecting it and lost his balance. He slammed his bulk into the chalk board and crumpled to the floor in a heap. I walked up to him and picked him up with one hand, my left hand. But that isn’t the issue. I’m a leftie, anyway. He weighed a ton and for me to have picked him up in front of all those kids the way I did… I wasn’t some skinny wimpy kid but then I wasn’t your regular muscles. I was a normal guy who fulfilled the basic dietary obligations but Steel was huge in every implication of the word. I felt my classmates’ jaws drop to the floor.

Today’s my 18th birthday. It’s the day every ideal I ever stood for got threatened. My parents just broke the news to me that I ain’t exactly human. And that means I’m not family. That’s how I see it, though. They didn’t exactly spit it out on such terms. They just said I wasn’t really their kid; I was the product of some weird experiment. Something that happened probably, eighteen years from date and which they both participated in. they used to be scientists, they said. But things changed. They don’t regret having me as their kid and they don’t see any critical consequences in my future. “You can’t go to school, today,” they said. “You might be made the butt of their joke; that can damage your personal confidence forever.”
            “But we live in a different age; a time that’s the opposite of what yours used to be even though it is a spin-off of that Dark Age, we have learned and thrived where you and your generation have failed.”

And that’s how I picked up my bag and strolled off to school. As they had predicted, this school day was totally different but my parents would never have believed what happened if they didn’t know lying wasn’t my thing.
            Rumor, being what it is, had gone ahead of me and spilled its guts to the entire school. I was up to my neck in questions before I made the school gate. Confusion is nothing new. I set myself to be at my best when I was confronted officially. Standing in front of my classmates and taking all these tests is just the beginning of the journey. As sure as word spreads like wild fire, the whole school would be made aware of my abilities before school day is out. I’m thinking it might mean goodbye to a formal education. But then again, who can say for sure?

When I turned 18, all my senses plus one got heightened. There I stood in front of my classmates as the object of their attention and I dared not say no to their requests.
            “Hey! Clay, catch this!” and three boys, Ron, Mike, and Akam tossed three items all to the front of the class but at different angles. I darted from corner to corner snatching stuff out of the air by the time I got to the third object, it almost touched the floor. Akam had aimed low. It was his mobile phone.
            “What were you thinking,” I said. “I could have missed.”
            “You didn’t,” Akam said, grinning like the smirk was plastered on his face.
            “So, what are you going to do if you got someone killed running around with all that power?”
I hadn’t really thought about that before then and the question hit me like blow aimed at my crotches.
            “I’m not gonna kill anybody, Sarah, okay?”
            “Can you fly, Clay?” Janis was the class’ reporter and she looked every bit of it with the pen and paper on her desk and she throwing the question with her officious voice.
            “If I put my back to it, maybe, I can.”
            “But what if you accidentally off somebody, Clay, what do you think they’d do to you?” That was Sarah again.
            “For starters, my creators programmed Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics into me.”
            “So, you’re saying we got nothing to be scared of?”
            “Does that make you a robot?
            “No, what I am is a Golem. Asimov coined the word, my creators used it.” I fetched a marker and scrawled on the board. “By Asimov’s standards,” I said and then scribbled this: robot = machine + computer.
            “A ‘goal ‘em’ what in the world does that mean?” That was Janis.
I scribbled the word on the board G-O-L-E-M. It’s an Hebrew word for ‘unformed substance’. Quoting Asimov, ‘A clay object, no matter how much it might resemble a human being is an unformed substance (the Hebrew word for it is ‘Golem’).” The scientist, Carver Washington invented an organic malleable substance, that possessed the ability to stretch and reshape itself like the human body but since he couldn’t breathe life into it, he called it Golem. I was formed out of that substance.”

            “How did you get the life then?” Janis again.
            “Somebody took up Asimov on his fictional positronic brain and succeeded in creating a computerized brain that could function on its own with little or no human interference and that was the making of me. I guess I’m different from a robot because I’m not all machine but in some weird sense, flesh and computer; a Golem. I hope you guys don’t hate me for what I am?”
            “Hate you, seriously, dude?” It was Steel. “The world can use a real superhero for a change.”

With the entire classroom matched round and gave me the right hand of fellowship or the right hug of fellowship depending on gender of who was involved.
See, times have changed. If Superman was alive today he’d be a real hero, loved by everyone. We are the generation who think queer is cool. We grew up with simulated computer games, and science fiction flicks, we grew up with comics. We are fully aware of our potentials and we welcome and embrace change. Who are we exactly?
            We are The Comic Book Generation.


Eneh Akpan
June 3rd, 2014



No comments:

Post a Comment