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Join Date: Feb 2005
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Poverty’s Revelation
This is my first time doing a short story in first person, well, not the first time, but it is my first true attempt at it. The others were experiments. Please read and tell me what you think of it. The story is told by the main character, telling what happened to him, and what he's learned from his experiences. Please let me know what you think and how I did. Thanks.
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For the past fifty years, humans have been changing. And not changing in the normal sense of improving themselves through changes in technology, culture or lifestyles. Humans are becoming super heroes. Well, not all of them, and certainly not in the comicbook sense, but rather, there has been an ever increasing number of them appearing every day who possess special abilities outside of the explanation of modern science. And how did they get like this? Honestly, I really don’t know. Nobody does. You just wake up and find that you’ve become a Marvel. No fanfare, no special announcement, and certainly no advanced warning. So what’s a Marvel? Well, that’s the name they call us. Marvels. Not because we’re some marvel of genetic transformation, but rather because some goofy newspaper editor related our rather odd change in physiology to something out of a Marvel comic book. It’s strange how names get stuck to things like that.
And who is this “they” that I speak of? It’s the ones who openly call us this rather peculiar name. We in turn call those without special powers “normals”, more as a joke than a statement of fact, because they’re less normal than we are. Yes, I said we. This is because I too am a Marvel, just as are many of my friends. My friend Tony is a fire wielder. His friend can control water. And another guy I know can levitate things with his mind. Even my friend Ron has Marvel abilities. His is the gift of super sensitive hearing. Yes Ron, I know you’re listening. Now go do something else before I blow my air horn again. Anywho, I find it rather interesting to watch them, my friends I mean, debate endlessly about who’s Marvel ability is better. Yet most fail to realize how cliché their powers are. I guess that’s why we’re called Marvels, not because we really are marvels of nature or science, but because we’re the ultimate statement of comic book clichés come to life.
But really, despite our abilities, we’re no different than you, assuming you’re a “normal” I mean. We all hold down jobs, have families, and go on about our lives like anyone else. Well, most of us do. These days my whole occupation is simply staying alive. Originally though I worked as a software engineer in a large corporation. I was one of those crazy, reclusive, nethack obsessed, pasty skinned geeks you read about in the newspaper. I was about as cliché as they come, which makes my new cliché all that much more ironic. However, despite being cliché in every imaginable sense of the word, I am still human, albeit slightly different from the traditional definition.
I’m also not the same, pasty skinned geek I once was. These days I am well tanned, ripped, and well weathered, my hair is a bit disheveled, and I wear a light brown beard and sunglasses over a hard and chiseled face. I’m no longer worried about functions and modules, or classes and concatenations. The only thing I worry about is surviving and finding food. And when I’m not doing that, I’m out helping people. That’s what Marvels do, and that’s what I’ll do to my dying day. Once you’re a Marvel, you can’t go back.
It used to be that we helped everyone we could day in and day out, on top of holding down our daily punch clock jobs. It was almost like a requirement for anyone who was a Marvel. Punch in, punch out, go save the world, and then be home for dinner by six. Of course it was easy back then to do your part as a Marvel without spending your whole day being a hero. But a lot has changed since then. But I’m getting ahead of myself. By now you’re probably wondering what my ability is. I’m obviously a Marvel, so I must have some kind of super power. You would be right in that respect. However, I’m more than your typical Marvel. Who would have thought that a computer geek with a Star Wars collection as large as mine would end up with this kind of ability.
And what ability is this? Well, I’m the only Marvel in the world who possess every possible ability known to mankind that a Marvel can possess, and a few that have not yet been seen. I’m a Swiss Army Knife of sorts. Honestly, it drove my wife nuts. You name it, I could do it. Yet having the capacity to wield so many abilities has proven to be both invaluable, and interesting. If nothing else, it’s kept me alive these last couple of years. And what has happened in my world that has made my abilities so valuable in protecting my life? Well, there are many reasons, but the biggest comes not from within, but from without.
We the heroes have become the hunted.
And how did this start? Well, it started out like you would expect. Back when Marvels first began appearing around the world, they were viewed as a curiosity, and then a wonder, and ultimately a necessity as many of us used our abilities for the common good, fighting off evil and saving the world yet one more time. The funniest part of all this though came in the early days. A few of the early Marvels got it into their heads that heroes always wore gaudy, brightly colored tights. Was that ever a sight to see. Thankfully that trend didn’t last long. My preferred uniform then, and still is, a simple black tshirt and a plain old pair of black jeans. If one didn’t know better, they’d think I was just an average joe walking down the street. Well, I am, if you don’t consider my Marvel abilities.
But I’m getting off the subject. You likely want to know why we’re hunted. Well, as can be expected, not everyone who gained Marvel abilities saw their powers as a gift to help others. Yep, here comes yet another cliché. Someone gains power, gets greedy, and bam!, instant super villain. And some of them were real winners too. Of course, that’s not to say that they weren’t to begin with. Most of the Marvels that became super villains were pretty messed up and evil to begin with. But if you take that mess, and toss in some Marvel super powers, what you end up with is quite ugly. And as I’m sure you can guess, it was a couple of these losers that spoiled the party for the rest of us. Because of them, public opinion began to slowly turn against us. It wasn’t long before society saw us as threats, rather than heroes.
But there’s more to it than that. There’s a firm belief among all of the remaining Marvels that our downfall was a government conspiracy. I for one not only believe it, I saw it. I was there. It all started one night several years ago at an old house on 5th and chestnut in downtown Chesterton. I was at that house my wife enjoying a casual weekend party with a group of friends, many of whom were Marvels. Things had been quiet enough most of the night, until about eight thirty. That’s when the soldiers arrived.
And wow, was there a lot of them. They surrounded the house from every side, columns and columns deep, and every one of them had a weapon pointed at me. They had tanks, planes, and more hardware than I have seen in years. I swear they had enough firepower there that night to arm a small third world country ten times over. With that much firepower, you’d think they were trying to kill Godzilla or something. It was like these guys fed on the concept of overkill. But that’s not the best part, or worst, depending on how you looked at it. That started shortly after we walked out of the house. I forgot to mention that my wife was not a Marvel. She was just Jane average, and enjoyed it that way.
But they didn’t care. In fact, they liked that fact. It was that one fact that would set in motion a set of events that haunts me to this day. Shortly after the first soldiers began arriving, Tony, Garcia, Ron, my wife and myself stepped out the front door to see what was going on. We no more than made it to the bottom of the steps when some big general type over a loudspeaker at us and told us to get on the ground and surrender, or risk being killed. We tried to reason with them, but they wouldn’t having it. In fact, they actually hoped we’d resist. If we complied, their whole reason for being there was ruined. So they set us up to ensure we’d fight back. To do this, they put a sniper in a building just across the street, his rifle aimed at us. They knew they couldn’t kill me, and they weren’t sure if they could kill the others. But they knew my wife was an easy target.
They had opportunity, and they had motive. They knew that if they killed her, I would do the exactly what they wanted. And what was that? They wanted me to go berserk. They knew how powerful I was, and knew that if I did, they were going to loose a lot of men and machinery. But they felt that whatever small loses they incurred would be justifiable in order to achieve their ultimate end goal.
The destruction of all Marvels.
If they couldn’t control us, which they couldn’t, then they would eliminate us. Governments and politicians are weird like that. If they can’t control you, they’ll destroy you. It makes no sense, but then again, neither do politicians. However, we were loved by people the world over. They looked up to us and revered us. That’s also why they feared us. They knew that we were a sacred cow of sorts to the people of Earth. And they also knew that you can’t kill a sacred cow without first alienating it’s worshipers. And they got us to do their dirty work for them. Life sucks like that, doesn’t it?
I remember standing there, staring in awe at my handiwork and wondering what had happened. Well, I knew what had happened, but it didn’t quite register right away. I think I leveled better than half of the north side that night. Ron remembers it clear as day. They killed my wife, and I went crazy. Zap, boom, sacred cow dead. Now they were free and clear to slaughter us without fear that anyone would raise their hand to stop them. In fact, the same people who praised us, soon turned against us. I hear that happens to even the best super heroes after a while. I gathered my wife’s limp body into my arms, carried her down to the local cemetery, and buried her. It was the least I could do for her that night. Especially since we were all now fugitives. A proper burial would be impossible. So I did the best I could.
And after we said our goodbyes, shed our tears, we each headed for our homes to get our things. Because, from that day forward, we would all be on the run. Knowing that my survival was most important, especially given my abilities, I ran home and gathered up my things. I packed a bag full with all my tech toys, my laptop, my PDA, numerous other gadgets, a couple dozen boxes of Pokey and some Pez. Yeah, I admit, I didn’t eat all that well back then. I might have even tossed in some Cheetos for good measure, but I don’t remember. After that we ran, and ran and ran. But it seemed like everywhere we went, we were greeted with kindness and welcomed into people’s homes for a warm meal and a place to sleep, until we showed our powers. After that, they wanted nothing to do with us.
And what was stranger was, after a while, it became dangerous to even think about using your powers. I don’t know how they did it, but somehow the government found a way to track us using our abilities. With that, they were able to know our every move, our locations, and how many of us there were. It was Garcia who figured it out first. In fact, he almost didn’t get a chance to tell us about it. Apparently, whenever we used our powers, we gave off some kind of signal that the government could track. They created devices to track us, and then connected them to some weird anti-Marvel missile or something. So if you ever used your powers, you usually got a rocket shoved down your throat. It makes being a Marvel quite interesting, and deadly. Only a few were able to fight off the missiles with their powers, myself included, so many paid the price with their own lives as they tried to continue helping people.
And another thing, I don’t know how they did it, but they had a lot of those things, the Marvel seeking missiles, and boy could they throw them at you like buckshot. There were a couple of times we were forced to use our powers to save a town or group of people, and despite all I did, those darned missiles almost had me for breakfast. For several years the missiles were every Marvel’s greatest fear. It didn’t take long for them to take their toll either. Our numbers quickly fell from the millions to the thousands, and eventually to just a few hundred. The politicians won their little war against the Marvels, and no matter how strong we were, we couldn’t win.
But I really don’t think it matters anymore. There are so few of us now that the government stopped hunting us. We are of little concern to them anymore. Of course, if they knew I was still here, they might think twice. That is, if they ever do find out I’m here. I say that because of something strange that happened. Sometime this spring, I think March possibly, our powers changed. Not in the substance of what they were or could do, but rather in the energy they emitted when used. We were the first to feel it, and it wasn’t long after that others noticed as well. It’s changed so much that the government’s detection systems can’t even find us anymore, no matter how much of our abilities we use, or how hard they try. To them, we’re not invisible.
But being invisible isn’t all that bad. Thanks to the purge, we’ve come to accept living without using our abilities. We’ve also come to accept a life much simpler than we once had. Remember all that computer gear I said I grabbed from my house? Well, it’s all gone. The only thing that I have left anymore is the cloths on my back, a few protein bars in my backpack, and a blanket I keep for cold nights. I truly live like a homeless man. We all do. All those years on the run taught us all something very important. The things we thought were so precious to us, so immutable, really mean nothing. That’s something I call “Poverty’s Revelation”. It was all those cold, hungry nights, living in the ghetto or out in the streets, sleeping in the woods, scrounging for food, and struggling to survive, have shown us what’s most important in this world.
It’s not computers, or possessions, or even food. Now I admit that food is nice to have, especially when you’re hungry, but that’s not the greatest treasure one could have. It’s people. Without my friends, I don’t know where I’d be today, or without me, where they’d be. It was also that time on the run when everything had been striped away from me that I realized how little of it I actually needed. Today, all I need is the cloths on my back, the food in my belly, a good pair of shoes, a warm place to sleep, and my friends. That sure beats all the gadgets I used to think I couldn’t live without. Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t worship them a little.
It’s interesting what a little poverty can teach you. You learn some interesting things about life you wouldn’t obtain anywhere else. It realigns your definitions of what’s important. For instance, possessions are not important. In fact, I think that possessions tend to be a hindrance to learning, and can be destructive in many ways, warping your view of the world, and twisting it into something evil. Now that’s not to say that possessions are bad. Quite the contrary. But they are only tools, not idols to be worshiped. It’s amazing that I had to loose everything to realize that.
If I were to prescribe one thing to every person in the world, something that would teach them a lesson they would carry throughout their entire life, it would have be poverty. I’m not saying that everyone in the world should live in poverty all their lives. Heaven forbid, as I wouldn’t wish a life of poverty on anyone! But instead, I think that living without those things you take for granted, if only for a brief time, makes you realize how silly most of them are, and realigns your thinking in positive ways. Plus it makes you realize something else. Possessions are temporary. They come, they’re used, and then they’re thrown away to rust and rot and fall apart. But friends are forever.
So what am I going to do now that we’re no longer hunted? Well, I can’t say we’re no longer hunted. It’s just that nobody cares about us anymore. There are so few of us around that most don’t even know we still exist. And that’s good, because it frees me to teach and help others. In time the bureaucrats may start hunting us again, but that’s fine. Until then, I’m going to take my powers and use them for good in my world. I’m still a Marvel after all. It’s almost silly not to continue helping people. We were given these powers for a reason, and I plan to keep on using them to help others until I found out way. Heck, for all I know, they were given to me, no us, for this exact reason: To help others.
Last edited by Lord Raiden : 11-15-2008 at 11:00 PM.
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I'm always up for challenges. OH, and this is *supposed to* read like an interview in a magazine. Kind of like the guy dumping on the interviewer and telling everything he had learned and experienced, yet still get it all on one page. But I obviously failed at that. Ah well. Might try a reading out loud on this one and see if I can't add the missing emotions as part of the reading.
