The annals of history are complex and tricky things to follow. It is very easy to get lost in the sea of facts that it displays before us, and it is even easier lose oneself within the confines of its deeper corners. Somewhere within the maze of names, dates, and places, however, we can find the little building blocks of our world…the few names, dates, and places that DO matter, and whose existence changed, changes, and forever will change our own.
History is a
cruel mistress, though. Sometimes, very rarely, she forgets some of us. And not
just anybody, but those of us who changed her course, but couldn’t leave a deep
enough mark on her hull. Their signatures faded from the parchment moments
after they were written down.
It is these
people who are the most important. Not the Einsteins, Schopenhauers, and
Mitterands, but those who move the tiny gears of the World, infinitesimal when
compared to their more famous counterparts, but infinitely more powerful in
every respect.
The true
heroes are those of whom we’ll never know.
One could call it the most normal day of the year. There were no holidays, no birthdays, anniversaries, or parties; just routine, work, play, day, and night. This summer’s day held no surprises to anyone, it was just one of those days: long, boring, and utterly forgettable.
This was not the case, however, for the small burg of Snowman, somewhere in the colder regions of rural America. For today, as almost any astronomer could tell you if you asked, was the day of the summer solstice. Anyone else would consider this piddle, a triviality that would deter an otherwise competent desk worker from his papers. But the people of Snowman knew better; they treasured this day more than any other, for today was the exact date of the Cosmos Festival.
“Come on, Mom, we’re gonna be late!!” came a cry from one of the houses in the northern end of Snowman. “I don’t wanna miss the opening ceremony!”
It was, in actuality, a little boy, no more than eight years old, dressed in snug winter clothes, as it was always cold around Snowman, tugging on his mother’s skirt, a short, slightly big-boned woman who was stumbling over herself due to the amount of large packets she carried. This woman hushed her whining son and recovered her balance, then, in a comical display of clumsiness, fell over, dropping all her packets on the living room floor. She sighed, visibly exhausted, and got up again. “Julian!! Are you ready yet?!” A faint “I’ll be right down!” echoed from upstairs as a young boy of thirteen bounded down the stairs and screeched to a halt beside his mother.
“Julian,” his mother began, “why don’t you go on ahead with your brother while I get these packets in order? I can’t do everything at once, you know.” Julian nodded and quickly escorted his brother outside.
Julian, dressed in a blue jacket, black pants, and boots, ran a hand through his scraggly black hair before placing a red baseball cap on his head. After he and his brother Chris stepped outside, they began trampling through the snow-covered streets of Snowman towards the center square, where the preparations for the Cosmos Festival were taking place. Chris stepped lightly and appeared to be skipping more than he appeared to be walking. “I love the Cosmos Festival!” he exclaimed. “It’s the funnest thing ever!” Julian chuckled and led his brother along. “It’s a lot of trouble for one meteor shower, but at least we get to play games.” He mused. He then put his hands behind his head. “So, Chris,” He turned to his brother. “What’s our current Whack-a-Barbot record?” His brother thought for a moment. “Umm…83, I think.”
“Think we can beat it this year at the fair?”
“You bet!” Julian laughed and took off running. “Great! Last one there’s a rotten egg!” Chris broke off running with his arms flaying violently. “No fair! You cheated!”
The Cosmos Festival began at 8:00, like every year, and lasted until midnight, when the famous meteor shower would take place. In the meantime, there was a bonfire, and the children would play games in the nearby Game Huts that several people would set up around the square. Julian and Chris’ favorite hut was the Whack-a-Barbot hut, where you could bonk plastic Barbots with foam hammers. They had become quite skilled at this game, and always drew a crowd when they played.
“So, what’s the prize this time?” asked Julian as he handed a bill to the hut manager, Murray, and took two foam mallets. “Our record stands at 83. At least six more and we’ll break your highest record ever.” Murray chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Listen, get up to a hundred within the one minute time limit and I’ll give you free pick of any prize I got here, okay?” Julian paused, then turned to Chris. “One hundred…up to it, Chris?”
“You bet!” Came Chris’ answer. Julian smiled. “All right then…ready…go!”
The brothers’ hands flew as if by their own will. Not ten seconds had passed and they were already up to thirty. Cheers were erupting from the passers-by as the two worked like a well-oiled machine. Fifty, sixty, the counter was going up so fast it was hard to keep up.
As soon as time was up, all of the Barbots popped back into the holes from which they came, and the counter tallied up the score. “One hundred and one!” cried Murray, flabbergasted. The onlookers cheered as Julian and Chris clasped their hands and celebrated. “Yeah!! We did it!” the brothers cheered as Murray wiped his brow. “That was some game…well, I’m a man of my word, so feel free to pick out anything you like.” Chris instantly picked out a remote-controlled car, while Julian began perusing the rack behind Murray for a prize. His eyes eventually picked out a small, silver-colored, prism-like object. “Say, Murray,” he began, “what’s that silver thing over there?” Murray picked the prism up. “What, this? Dunno. Picked it up in a garage sale last April. I don’t know what it is, take it if you want it.” Julian nodded and took the prism. “Thanks.” He said, then turned to Chris. “Come on, I’ll go buy you some cotton candy.”
They hadn’t taken two steps when they spotted a girl, somewhere in her late teens, looking at one of the huts. She wore a pink dress with a bonnet to cover her blonde hair. “Hey,” said Julian. “isn’t that Ana?” Chris snapped around and looked to where Julian did. “Hey, that’s Ana!” he yelled, then ran off and grabbed the girl’s leg. “Ana! It’s you!” The girl turned and saw Chris, then smiled and picked him up. “Hey Chris! I’m so happy to see you!” She then spotted Julian. “Hi, Julian.” She smiled warmly.
Julian blushed slightly. “Uh, hi Ana.” He mumbled. “How are you?” Ana smiled. “I’m fine. Did you know I’m in charge of the speech this year?” Julian nodded. “My mom told me. I know you’re going to be just fine.” Ana giggled and put down Chris. “I hope so! Even though I’ve done it ever since the festival began, I’m still nervous.”
Chris cocked his head in confusion. “Ever since it started?” he asked. “But then, does that mean you’re a hundred years old?” He let that thought work its way through his head.
Ana twitched, slightly offended, but then she put on her usual smile. “The Festival’s only five years old.” Ana answered. “After all, this meteor shower didn’t even begin to occur until after…” She paused. Julian cocked an eyebrow. “Until after what?” Ana shook her head. “Never mind.” She then looked at her watch and clasped her hand over her mouth. “Goodness, I’m late! Well, it was nice seeing you, Julian, Chris! I have to go!” she then darted off. Chris looked at his brother, noticed his face, then put on a sly smile. “You have a crush on her, don’t you?” Julian frowned. “I do not.”
Midnight came soon enough, and the townspeople gathered around the stage set up in the center square to watch as Ana stepped up and cleared her throat. “Good evening.” She said through the microphone, then continued. “We are here to celebrate the summer solstice, when the stars rain down and greet us with their light. Within moments, we will witness the awe-inspiring power of nature, so I ask that you please watch in silence, out of respect for the stars.” The others murmured and began pointing upwards, then hushed as thousands of shooting stars began streaking across the pitch-black sky, leaving trails of white light.
At that moment, Julian felt a slight tingling in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out the triangular prism, and noticed that it was glowing slightly. “What the…” his thoughts were cut off as he heard a scream come from behind him, and he turned to see a woman scrambling away from a shadowy figure. His prism glowed stronger and began vibrating violently in his hand, causing him to drop it. The prism, upon hitting the ground, began floating in mid-air, emitting a powerful white glow and making a loud rumbling sound. The figure spotted it immediately and began to charge towards the prism, shoving people aside and hitting anyone unlucky enough to be in its path.
Julian looked from the prism, to the silhouette, then back. The shadow was coming ever closer, and he began sweating bullets. What did it want with him? What was that prism doing? What was going on? The shadow was almost on him now, and as soon as it was within range, it lunged, its hands outstretched and ready to grasp Julian’s neck. Julian put his hands in front of him and closed his eyes.
Then, something odd happened. The prism stopped glowing and dropped to the ground. At the same time, Julian felt a pang of white-hot pain sear through his head, making his eyes bulge and the hairs on his skin stand on end. Everything froze, and for a moment Julian felt something course through his arms and to his hands. Then, as suddenly as it came, the pain stopped.
Everything froze. Julian stood with his arms outstretched and his eyes closed. Everyone was silent. Julian opened his eyes slowly and looked over himself, then in front of him to the shadow, which seemed to be immobilized. In mid-air.
Julian looked wide-eyed at the silhouette, and noticed it struggling to get back on the ground and to him. His mind was suddenly invaded by panic, and he thought only one thing. Get away. Instantly, the shadow flew backwards, as if hit by a truck, and landed several meters away. It got up, shook its head, then charged again. Julian took a step back. No he thought. Get away!
The shadow stopped in its tracks and was hurled backwards again, this time landing on its head. It convulsed for a moment, then stopped moving. Julian sighed, then felt his head spin and he fell backwards. The shooting stars overhead were the last thing he saw before he slipped into darkness.