PROLOUGE copywrite February 2008
RDK

Little Andy Mercury was sitting in his first grade classroom, working with a piece of paper. It was from the fifth grade math level, utilizing the order of operations within simple arithmetic equations in order to give points on the back of the paper to draw a picture. This was pretty complicated considering his dedication to blocking out the image that everyone was shouting about in the classroom, as the Thanksgiving holiday came up the next day around.

It would be seemingly impossible for a child without the order of operation background to be able to distinguish the correct answers from about fifty different “complex” equations, especially since the only way to check the work comes from the entirely different part of the brain in control of pictures and imagination. Not only that, but he had blocked out the word “turkey” from his consciousness, and was getting more and more baffled, even though the picture was surprisingly close to the correct one.

He was so deep in thought that the classroom became blurred yells and shrieks, along with a teacher lecturing diligently, trying to keep order as the last student worked toward the same problem which the other students had already solved on their own.

The paper started looking deep as Andy looked into the paper, seeing shapes and stars and little glints of white among the paper, which started looking much more interesting and deep than a picture of a turkey. The connect the dot lines gave way to the Milky Way, as his mind was calmed by the swirling predictability of math and instantaneous intuition of character and particles. He imagined God, as a perfect man reading a perfect book, which had everything up to the present contained.

Every molecule of the Earth would be predictable by pure physics, in Andy’s mind, without free will. He then saw the dilemma between reality and fantasy.

If all was predictable to Andy, it would life would be a prison of repetition and utter loss of control over the situation. He would never know if he was merely a mathematic equation already predictable through the combination of his characters with those he was likely to encounter.

Free will seemed so perfect at this moment as he looked into the science of the paper. The design of the world was physically predictable such that every person willing to look into science would be granted and guaranteed the same results under the same pressing situation. The intelligence of this made a safety net of skills and tools to be acquired throughout his life. Now he only had to think towards his impression of “God” and imagine what would bring about the beautiful and safe results he wanted from life.

God, in Andy’s mind, could always predict the very next move according to the knowledge of all’s mind and intention, along with the predictability of the Earth.

As Andy came back toward the rambunctious classroom, he noticed how the things he loved would always be under his protection, and he noted how all the others proved to feel the same way. Humanity must be safe in order for it to survive, so he finished the remaining three problems, which did not seem to follow the same pattern as the rest, and he drew the turkey.

Andy was laying on his back on the hard asphalt. His sweat was leaving an outline around his body pulled itself through the stress of the workout. He tried to grasp the air which was so fleeting around him.

In the real world, birds were chirping in the trees around the light brown dusty oval track. It was surrounding a terribly muddy and weed covered football field.

In Andy’s mind, disillusionment and fatigue filled his brain like a sea much to calm to allow him to remain level above the water. This had been the hardest practice he had attended, and took full advantage of the pressure in the atmosphere to work his body past its peak performance.

The other players were trotting back to the locker room, through the gate, and across the cement, back toward the gymnasium. Andy took a few calming breaths, and waved off the coaches, who hesitantly left the field.

Andy gave himself a good nine minute rest, and then hopped back to his feet, he ran in place with his track shoes and exercise clothing. He looked out at the field; its white painted lines were fading each day with the feet of the young men running across the surface. The parking lot was on the bottom side of the field diagonally to Andy’s right. It was riddled with a few cars, mostly football players. During the summer season only the dedicated of heart were out on the field, continuing the program with the coaches, being too heartfelt of players to sneak back into the lineup after a few months rest.

As an American football player, Andy had been training all summer through sprinting and long distance running, training his body. He worked through the initial pains of low endurance. He also worked through problems with his heels, which seemed to ache constantly, regardless of the shoe or the pressure he put on the back of his feet while running. At this point, there was nothing holding back his training, neither physically nor mentally, but his own limits as a person each day.

This scene was like a pleasant dream now to him. He grabbed his bottle of water, still cold, and drank as much as he could, as he slowly walked on toe to the edge of the field, ready to leave.

When the endurance program is over for the day, Andy knows he could not have pushed himself harder. His strength was becoming tremendous, despite his average stature and seeming size. The sport was always a stress on his body and mind, but for some reason the love and hate pulled him back to the field each day during this period of his life.

AIM me about my work: iTrillian

Creative Writing by: RDK
All Stories Copyrighted
Website html and all stories
copyrighted October 11, 2008 RDK