Julian the Mighty

by Joachim Masannek

  “Stand by!” he yelled. “Mad dog in the house!”

  Mickey spun around and heaved something heavy off his back and swung it onto his chest. Then he stood perfectly still. It looked like a Samsonite suitcase full of his dirty clothes and underwear. But I was wrong. He reached inside and slowly pulled out an electric drill with one hand, and a razor-sharp power saw blade with the other, and like he was jacking a clip into an automatic weapon, he snapped the saw blade into the drill with a terrifying CLANG. Then Mickey swung the case back over his shoulders and pulled the trigger on the saw-bladed drill. The razor-sharp blade whined to life and spun like a buzz-saw, glinting in the moonlight. Mickey stood his ground, looking like he just stepped out of a slasher movie.

  “Kevin!” Danny whispered. “Kevin!”

  No response. It was absolutely quiet except the roaring of Mickey’s saw-bladed drill.

  My mother tried to peer out the kitchen window, but Larry got in front of her and distracted her.

  Mickey marched towards the wooden poles that held up Camelot. His saw-bladed drill would cut them in half like a knife going through butter.

  We brought out the big guns and fired. Streams of water hit Mickey from every angle, but they didn’t stop him. He didn’t care and he laughed maniacally.

  “Bring it on, punks!” He shouted. “I needed a bath anyway!”

  “That’s true,” I said, reloading.

  Mickey lifted the saw-bladed drill and prepared to make his first cut.

  I knew that razor-sharp blade would turn Camelot to firewood. We had to stop him!

  That’s when Roger chimed in. The spinning buzz-saw of death was just a fraction of an inch away from the wood.

  “Hey, Mickey!” he yelled from the scaffolding on the second floor. “We have a surprise for you!” Next to him, a steamer hissed and a compressor rattled to life.

  Mickey dumbly looked up and immediately recognized the danger. He was just about to say something that our parents would never let us say, when Roger fired, but instead of aiming straight at Mickey, he fired off a burst of ice water a good five feet above his head.

  “Roger! What are you aiming at?” Zoe shouted to him.

  “I was about to say the same thing!” Mickey laughed and readied his razor-sharp blade to cut our poles in half.

  But Roger knew what he was doing. “Hey Mickwad! How about some dessert?”

  Mickey looked up at Roger, puzzled. The he saw where Roger was looking and slowly raised his eyes up to what was happening directly over his head. There, about five feet above him was a wooden plank. Mickey still didn’t get it and stayed where he was.

  Suddenly Roger turned up the steam on the steamer and its jets of hot air pushed the wooden plank around, releasing a bucket, which tipped over and poured a gallon of thick honey all over Mickey’s head and shoulders and dripped all the way down to his chubby little toes.

  “Do you like honey on your filth?” Roger laughed and we all laughed uproariously.

  Drenched in honey, Mickey let the drill with the razor-sharp saw blade drop to the ground, sawing off the ends of his shoes. He stuck his toes out to make sure they were still there and made a whimpering sound similar to the noise Kong made earlier. Assured that his toes were intact, he twirled and choked, but he couldn’t make another sound. Finally he wiped the honey from his eyes and balled his fists at Roger. “I’ll get you for this!” he sputtered through the thick honey.

  But Roger was gone. Instead, Kevin stood there holding a long plastic tube.

  “Hey Mickey, I hope you don’t mind me telling you this, but I can see you are having a tough time with your anger.”

  Mickey the bulldozer was about to explode. He tried to pick up the drill with the razor-sharp blade, but his hands were sticky and he picked up handfuls of leaves and twigs and grass instead and couldn’t shake them off.

  “Usually, I would recommend anger management classes for you,” Kevin taunted. “But I think we have to go softer on you.” With that, he reached under the plastic tube next to him, pulled back a lever that loosened a spring that opened a bag, and thousands and thousands of white downy feathers rained down on Mickey, sticking to the honey covering him, and Mickey the bulldozer, Darth Vader, the scourge of the neighborhood, was turned into a big fat sticky chicken. Mickey struggled and thrashed the air with his arms and feathers flew everywhere, but all he could do was SQUAWK.

  And as the Wild Soccer Bunch and Larry and even my mom laughed and laughed, Mickey the chicken squawked with fury and stumbled off, heading for the backyard gate.

  When Mickey finally made it to the gate, he was stopped by Sox, who was guarding it. Sox bared his fangs and growled. And Mickey, trying to stuff his terror, turned in utter defeat, and slowly walked back to Camelot.

  We all waited for Mickey when he returned and stopped dead in his tracks, right front of us.

  I spoke first. “Strange how fast things change when your friends aren’t here to protect you.” I was serious. “I’ll take my money now. That will be $42.24 of my own money. And $221 that belongs to the Wild Soccer Bunch. No more, no less.”

  “Bubt,” Mickey blurbled from under his honey and feather coating. Zoe went over and wiped the honey blocking his mouth since Mickey’s arms, or wings, or whatever they were, weren’t working very well. “Try it again, twerp,” Zoe said.

  “But, I don’t have the money. I gave it to my cousin.”

  I stepped up to Mickey and got in his face. “Not our problem. Tell your gangster cousin winter came early. We don’t care. Just bring us the money you stole from us. If you bring it, we won’t rat you and your cousin out. Got that?”

  I could see the noose tightening around Mickey. He looked one way – there we were. He looked the other – Sox growled at him.

  “Okay, okay!” he said quickly, surrendering. “Give me four hours. Okay?”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t convinced. But we had to give him a chance to go get the money. We already knew his cousin was not going to be happy.

  “Okay. Four hours. But what about your friends?” We all looked at what was left of the Unbeatables, stuck upside-down in trash cans. “Do you think they can wait four hours?

  “I’ll hurry!” Mickey said and stood there still looking at us dumbly like a giant chicken nugget.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?” I asked. “The clock is ticking.”

  Mickey finally realized what was happening and ran off. But before he reached the gate, I called out to him.

  “One more thing, Mickey!” I shouted.

  Mickey cringed and a few downy white feathers blew off and floated around him.

  “Don’t ever let this happen again. Got that?”

  Mickey nodded with dedication.

  “Good!” I said. “We’re soccer players. Not bullies.”

  Mickey nodded again, and then ran off. I turned to my friends.

  “And that’s the truth! All I want to do is go to school, and play for the Wild Soccer Bunch,” I said, and hugged each and every one of them.

  “All is well,” I said. “As long as you’re wild!” echoed the others. Then we went home to rest for our game in the Devil’s Pit.

  One More Secret

  My mother brought Josh to bed first. It was after midnight but he was totally hyper and kept telling her the whole story over and over again about the honey and the feathers and how Mickey made a really bad bully, but a really good chicken nugget. She had to hear about the battle for Camelot at least four or five times, and she managed to laugh every time. Man, I love her so much! Do you know another mom who can watch a 10-ton jellyfish with a buzz-saw attack her own son and a monstrous creature from the prairie end up in a face-plant in our dog house? And laugh about it? She most definitely deserves my respect.

  Having kissed Josh good night, she came to my room. She closed the door softly behind her and sat down on my bed right next to me. She looked at me quietly.

  “Come on, ask already!” I thought, nervously twiddling wi
th my toes underneath the blanket, grateful they weren’t dislocated.

  But my mother didn’t have to ask. She knew I’d understand her question without any words, and so I just blurted it out.

  “I was looking for Dad.”

  My mother studied me for a long while.

  “I know he lives in the Graffiti Towers!” I said, defending myself. “I don’t even know him, Mom. I want to. And the Graffiti Towers is like the lost continent. Nobody knows anything about it!”

  “Yeah, forget about the Northwest Passage or Outer Mongolia – or even Inner Mongolia,” my mother replied with a twinkle in her eye. “The Graffiti Towers is the most undiscovered of them all.”

  I looked at my mom and she looked at me and both of us burst out laughing and hugged and I nuzzled into her. But then tears came down both our cheeks, at the same time.

  “You’re right, Julian. Your father lives in the Graffiti Towers,” she whispered.

  I held my breath. Suddenly I had an idea.

  “Do you know Dad’s email address?” My mother nodded.

  “Will you scan this and send it to him?” I asked her hoarsely, and pulled a sheet of paper out from under my pillow.

  My mother read the letter at least as often as Josh had told her the story of Honey and Feathers.

  Father:

  Would you please come to my soccer game? It’s today in the Devil’s Pit at 8 p.m. sharp. It’s very important. I need you.

  Your son, Julian

  Julian Fort Knox, the all-in-one defender

  “That’s quite a mouthful that name of yours, Mr. all-in-one defender. What you did tonight was mighty heroic. How about we just call you Julian the Mighty?”

  I couldn’t believe she was saying this. What I meant to say was, I couldn’t believe anyone would say anything so nice about me. “I love it,” is what I said.

  She stayed with me until I fell asleep and kissed me. One of her tears fell and landed on my cheek, and I felt it in my dream. It was a nice dream. We were all together again, mom and dad and me. At the big game.

  While I was sleeping, Mickey the bulldozer came back. And he was not alone. Dressed as a giant chicken, he had caught the attention of the police. When they saw the traces of the battle for Camelot, he and the rest of the Unbeatables had to go to Juvenile Court. A judge sentenced them to six weeks of community service, working at an old folks’ home. At first it was supposed to be twelve weeks, but when the police found out he had returned the money, they let them off easy. They also made Mickey and his friends go to a special class on bullying.

  Larry took the money and went to the second-hand shop and bought himself a suit. He did it all by himself and he chose the one suit he thought would fit his position as the best coach in the world, the coach of the Wild Soccer Bunch!

  Star Shower

  By late afternoon we were all up and out of bed. We could barely wait for the evening to roll around, and as soon as it was dark we ran off. Arriving at the Devil’s Pit at the same time, we all stood in front of the gate. We were in awe.

  The sign above the gate sparkled in the evening light, and for one magnificent moment the world was ours. It was a grand moment indeed as we stepped out onto the field wearing our Wild Soccer Bunch jerseys. The floodlights were on, bathing everything in a magical glow. In that grand moment we were dangerous and wild. Larry, dressed in his new pinstripe suit, proudly marched towards us, straightening his yellow and black and red tie.

  It was an awesome moment. But like every awesome moment, this one was short lived. We were about to meet our match: SC Ghosts United.

  Our opponents were already at the stadium when we arrived. They were all at least one year older and two heads taller. They were giants!

  “Hello! Finally!” Larry greeted us. “Welcome to the Eighth Dimension.”

  As if our opponents wanted to scare us into submission even before the game began, their left forward kicked the ball against the goal post so hard that even Alex the cannon Alexander was in awe.

  Larry tried to give us confidence. “Men, they may be bigger, but you are faster!” But that was little comfort. Actually, it was a lie!

  The others were big all right, but we were by no means faster. We barely made it out of our own penalty box, and although Kyle, invincible as he is, stopped plenty of their shots, we were behind three zip by halftime. And I tell you, we were lucky it wasn’t worse.

  Larry was not happy. “You’re playing like you left your confidence at home!” he complained. “Why are you all hanging back? Julian, you’re enough to stop a team like this. What’s up with you? Didn’t you get enough sleep? Did you forget what we did last night? In case you forgot, I’ll tell you. You all proved you can trust each other. So where is that trust out on the field? Julian! I’m talking to you. Two of those goals are on you!”

  “1-2-3 WILD!” I barked my answer. That’s how angry I was. Not with Larry. With myself. What Larry said was true, but he was wrong about the number. The third goal was my fault, too. I was anything but the all-in-one defender. I was anything but mighty. I was nothing but a tiny hole in a big block of Swiss cheese.

  In the second half, I was constantly looking over to where my mother sat. She was by herself; my father had not shown up. If you want to know the truth, I was distracted and I was playing lousy. If I kept this up, we’d lose the first game in the Devil’s Pit for sure. Our opponents had just scored a fourth goal, and one more time, I had set it up.

  Embarrassed, I plucked the ball from the goal and kicked it to the center mark. My friends should not have saved me. My performance was not worth it. And I was so glad my dad hadn’t seen I was the worst all-in-one defender ever!

  The whistle blew. And that’s when I saw him. My dad was standing at the corner of the field, right next to my mom. I knew it was my dad because he was standing in front of a very familiar pick-up truck. The driver who had mysteriously helped me three times was my dad!

  I don’t quite remember what happened after that. I was so happy. And I don’t really know how what happened, happened, but it did. Does that make sense? I’m sorry, my mind was racing and my heart was beating out of my chest, I was so excited. My father was there and in that magical moment, I knew we could not lose.

  The whole team was energized. Tyler was our number 10 again and our mind-reader and intuition all rolled into one. He drove the ball across the field and played an unbelievable pass right to our opponent’s goal area. Kevin, our slalom dribbler and star striker raced just in time to get the ball in and hit a mid-air volley, scoring our first goal of the game.

  The next attack went over the right side. Danny raced past everyone, passed to Kevin who passed to the left to Joey the magician, who tricked defenders and finished with a great kick that sent the ball into the net. Two to four.

  Tyler was up next. He dribbled from our own penalty box all the way to the opponent’s goal and with the outside of his foot, he steered the ball into the upper right corner.

  But three to four seemed to be it. The opponent’s goal was slammed shut. Danny hit the post twice. Then suddenly Diego fought himself free five minutes before the end, whirled through the penalty box, heeled back to Kevin, who somehow got the ball into the net through a forest of legs.

  Goal!!!

  Kevin’s fist represented us all. It said to everyone who was willing to listen, we weren’t about to lose this game! We were wide awake and ready, but unfortunately the SC Ghosts United woke up, too.

  Our opponents drove toward our goal as if it was the most important game of their lives. Well, it was actually, given they were all a year older, and a tie was too humiliating for them. But for us, a tie was a victory, so we summoned up all our strength and tried to hold off their attack. Even Kevin helped in the defense and threw himself into their right forward’s shot, headed the ball over to me and I passed it on to Tyler. He kicked the ball forward. It was a first-class pass to Danny, the fastest midfielder in the world. He took off, and with that we had a chan
ce to counter attack which was our chance to win. Fast as lightning we stormed ahead, but Danny lost the ball. Now the SC Ghosts United counter attacked. Their players were all faster than we were, and suddenly I was alone against two of their forwards. Only Kyle the invincible stood behind me.

  They were double-passing and about to pass me by. I had to risk everything, and so I slid into the next pass and missed it by a hair. Kyle was by himself, but he was invincible. He threw himself into the shot like a brick wall with eyes and fisted the ball out of the penalty box.

  Wow!

  Now we really deserved the tie. The ref had the whistle in his hand already, when I noticed their midfielder. The ball rolled directly towards him; a great preparation for an easy volley. I looked at Kyle, but he was on the ground. He noticed the impending attack too late.

  So I jumped up and while the number 10 of the SC Ghosts United hit the ball hard at the goal, I planted myself on the goal line, flew through the air, and thundered the ball out of and away from our penalty box.

  Just as the referee whistled, the ball flew higher and higher and finally hit one of the floodlights. It exploded and sparks showered down on us like stars.

  TIE!! We didn’t lose our first game in our very own stadium! I was exhausted but happier than ever. I stretched my arms as far and wide as I could.

  Kevin, our star striker, and Zoe the fearless, ran over to me, wrapped their arms around me, and we bounced with joy! I looked up in the stands and there were my mother and father, on their feet, cheering wildly.

  “Hey Julian Fort Knox, the all-in-one defender,” Zoe shouted at me as the whole team surrounded me. “Your mom told us about your new name and we agree!”

  That’s when my mom and dad joined the Wild Soccer Bunch and Larry on the field. Kevin and Tyler lifted me up on their shoulders and my mom and dad joined in.

  “Hurray for Julian the Mighty!” Zoe shouted.

  And as the Wild Soccer Bunch and my parents carried me around the field, I knew exactly where I was, and where I belonged.