Of Minds and Masters

by Paul Ormond

  “So son, in light of all that has happened to you, I'm putting you on an in school suspension for a week. You will spend the next 5 school days in the computer lab. There, you will write an essay that explains what happened and why you feel bad about what you did.” Mr. O’Hare continued to talk while Mitch kept his head down. “This suspension will take place immediately. You and I will head over to the lab now so you can start working on your essay.” Mr. O’Hare rose to his feet. “I’ve notified your father about the fight and he said he will discuss it with you when you get home. Are you listening, Mitch?” Mr. O’Hare asked.

  “Yes, fine, let’s go,” Mitch grumbled and got to his feet.

  “It’s this way, Mitch,” Mr. O’Hare directed Mitch down the hall.

  “I know where it is,” Mitch retorted.

  “Well, you don’t have to get testy with me Mitch. I’m trying to help you out here,” Mr. O’Hare snapped back.

  On the way out of the office, they walked past Mrs. Peachers who was typing into a computer. “I’m taking Mitch down to the computer lab for his suspension. You remember Mitch Mythic, Mrs. Peachers?” Mr. O’Hare asked.

  “Oh of course, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard after seeing such a video. It’s really quite amazing,” Mrs. Peachers snorted. Mitch rolled his eyes and exhaled quietly as he passed by.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The door to the computer lab swung open to reveal a room filled with flickering monitors from a bygone era. The school’s computer lab had been established over 15 years ago and it had received widespread applause from the local community when it opened. “Now the students at Kingsford High can participate in this new digital age,” one local politician had announced during the unveiling of the lab, amidst a throng of local reporters. A photo of that celebration still hung on the wall. The days of glory had long since passed and years of abuse and neglect had left the lab in a grim state. Most of the computers were embedded with viruses. Their ancient operating systems displayed archaic applications that encouraged students to reach out and surf the World Wide Web.

  Mr. O’Hare sat Mitch down at a computer and patted him on the shoulder. “I know it’s been tough, but take this time to gather yourself. The computer lab monitor will be here shortly and he’ll get you sorted,” Mr. O’Hare said in a concerned manner. Mitch wondered who the computer monitor might be, but he didn’t get much time to ponder the mystery. The tall, slim kid that had been in the office with Mitch appeared at the door and beamed at Mr. O’Hare.

  “Mr. O’Hare, always great see you. How can be of service?” Drak asked, his accent dripped over the words. Mitch felt a strange confusion settle over himself.

  “Drak, good to see you as well. It’s really exciting that you might get your residency permit. I hope it all turns out for you,” Mr. O’Hare said as he shook hands with Drak.

  “Well, we’ll see how all turns out. I just hope that can contribute to the greater good of this country,” Drak said humbly.

  “That’s a mighty wise and selfless outlook to have. I wish I was as wise as you when I was your age. Drak, I’m sure that you know Mitch Mythic,” Mr. O’Hare said, changing subjects.

  “Of course, know Mitch Mythic. How could not? He is perhaps most famous person in all Kingsford at moment,” Drak said while he flashed a knowing grin at Mitch. “Everybody all over world has seen video. Really quite incredible.”

  “I know,” Mr. O’Hare said. “The first time I saw it I almost had a heart attack. I laughed so hard.”

  “It is hysterical,” Drak said, agreeing with Mr. O’Hare. Mitch fumed.

  “Ah, good times. Anyway, Mitch has had a bit of trouble and he’s gonna be spending some time here for the next week working on an essay for me. Could you find Mitch the disciplinary essay document and get him started? I’ve got to get back to the office. Apparently somebody has been stealing canned cheese from the cafeteria. I’ve got to go track down some suspects,” Mr. O’Hare said as he made his way to the door.

  “Mitch, hang in there OK. Things are going to improve for you. I mean, I can’t see how they could get any worse,” he chuckled to himself and left the two boys alone in the lab. For a moment, Drak didn’t move. All that could be heard was the whirring of the obsolete computers. Their ancient operating systems appeared to be clinging to life.

  “Ugh,” Drak finally said and looked directly at Mitch for the first time since entering the room. “I no idea how you put up with this for this long. In all honesty, I surprised you don’t snap earlier. You immensely well composed individual. This also reflect in data.”

  “What data? Why am I still talking to you? Who are you?” Mitch blasted back.

  “All in good time, my friend. Many things I reveal you as we work together. May shock or scare, but you need know truth if we to accomplish goal,” Drak said as he walked towards the front of the computer lab.

  “This is insane. I’m not working with you on anything. I don’t even know you and I already know that I don’t want anything to do with you. I’m stuck here now because … I don’t want to talk about it. Can you just shut up and leave me alone? You sound completely nuts and I just don’t think I need any more insanity in my life at the moment,” Mitch pleaded.

  “I know you suffer,” Drak replied. The tall skinny boy looked directly at Mitch from across the room. “But I about to show you that suffering not in vain,” Drak continued. “Although circumstances trying, you see in time that you have larger part to play here. What befell you in past will be boon to our cause in future.”

  “Just leave me alone,” Mitch stammered. “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but this is totally nuts.”

  “I tell you what am. I am refugee. I flee to this place from my home in order escape persecution and imprisonment. I alone escape leaving family far behind. As we speak, they confined to place filled with torment and horror.” Drak’s eyes had grown distant and he didn’t talk for a few moments. The silence in the room was crushing. After what felt like an eternity, Drak turned and looked at Mitch. “Always be worse, Mitch. Now, you don’t mind, I like help you now.”

  Mitch felt confused. Was this kid telling the truth, he wondered to himself. His brain was throwing all kinds of thoughts around in his head. He felt compelled by the boy’s story and he felt regret for dismissing him at first, but he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that he wanted from Mitch. Mitch also couldn't understand why this kid was so fixated on him.

  “Well, that’s a sad story,” Mitch said. “But I don’t know why you think I can help you. I’m not some commando warrior or something.”

  “I not asking you to free my people. Let just say, I have skills that help you. Allowing me help you, you help me,” Drak replied.

  “I still have no idea what you are talking about,” Mitch said.

  “Let me have access your MindHIve account. I relieve you social distress.”

  “You want me to let you into my account. I don’t think so. Look, I’ve got to write this stupid essay for Mr. O’Heavybutt, so could you just leave me alone. I’m just not in the mood for this right now,” Mitch said.

  “Perhaps you need better understanding my skill set. Allow me demonstrate few my abilities,” Drak insisted.

  “What? Whatever, man, just, oh well, fine, show me what you can do. Just go away afterwards, ok?” Mitch said, giving in.

  “You need write essay, yes?” Drak asked. “I make it easy on you. Let apply algorithm to problem.”

  Drak sat at a computer next to Mitch and his fingers began to deftly work away at the keyboard. He quickly bypassed the ancient operating system of the computer and began to type streams of code into a black screen. After a few moments, he paused and hit the return key. Nothing happened for a moment and then suddenly code began to stream across the black screen. It suddenly stopped and the room was silent for a moment.

  “What did you do?” Mitch asked, confused.

  “It there on desktop,” Drak said.

&nbs
p; “Where? What’s on what desktop?” Mitch replied.

  “Open file that’s sit on desktop,” Drak said.

  On the desktop of the computer, directly in front of Mitch, was a file that either had not been there before or maybe Mitch hadn’t noticed it. The file was called “Disciplinary Essay by Mitch Mythic.”

  “What is this?” Mitch asked again.

  “Just open it,” Drak said.

  Mitch clicked on the file and a page opened up with what appeared to be an essay.

  “Did you just yank this off of the internet? Anybody can do that!” Mitch scoffed.

  “I never participate in act of plagiarism,” Drak stated boldly. “I have, however, applied special algorithm to computer word processor. By assigning few key tasks, computer wrote essay for you based upon readily available information. Authoritarian rulers often wish impose ‘busy work’ upon subjects in order maintain dominant position. By using tools Mr. O’Hare left available, we have freed you from this injustice. I have much experience dealing with injustice.”

  Mitch looked over the essay and was immediately blown away by what he read. The essay detailed the situation quite accurately. It mentioned the fight and the people involved. It also went into detail about Mitch’s actions and how he felt remorse for what he did.

  “How did you do this?” Mitch asked with astonishment.

  “With right tools, any task can be accomplished. It’s how one applies algorithm,” Drak said smoothly.

  “What is this algorithm you’re talking about?” Mitch demanded to know.

  “It not important right now. Just think it as a tool that produces things want. I gave it details of fight, feelings, and emotions of people involved and told it what outcome should be. Computer did rest,” Drak said smoothly.

  “So, I don’t need to write an easy for O’Hefty?” Mitch asked.

  “Not unless you feel need for penance,” Drak replied. “Now, if you somewhat satisfied with my abilities, will you please allow me show you some of my other skills?” Drak said coolly.

  “Uhhh, what is it that you’re trying to do?” Mitch wondered.

  “To put simply, you much more powerful than think. I intend allow you be star of content you so much despise. Seize control of message,” Drak stated plainly.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Mitch said.

  “Mitch Mythic, you must open mind. You make yourself the victim in situation. You hero of story. Once see it that way, you will able climb out of pit of misery and become master of destiny,” Drak said forcefully.

  “Whoa, stalk much dude? How is it that you know so much about me? That’s a really inspiring speech, but just show me what you want to do,” Mitch said. He was starting to lose patience, but he was intrigued by what Drak intended to do. It was true that Mitch was miserable and he was tired of being a victim, but he was alarmed by how much Drak knew about him.

  “In order for you take control of message, we need put face at forefront of message. In video, you are merely body sent flying. We need attach your identity to video,” Drak explained.

  “That is the last thing I want to do,” Mitch said bluntly.

  “But it one thing you need to do. We cannot control outside circumstance, but we can control how react to them. So far, you been a passive actor in drama. By coming out and saying to world - ‘I am epiccrotchshot boy. I am proud be me, and I not ashamed of it’ - you will have stepped into spotlight and placed yourself in story. That you in the video, no one else,” Drak said dramatically.

  “Once again, that’s a great speech, but how do you intend to take control of the video? It’s already got millions of views and there are so many reposts already. Somebody even made a cat version,” Mitch said unconvinced.

  “I use same algorithm I use to produce essay. Do some magic,” Drak said. “Just allow me access your account.”

  “How am I supposed to trust you?” Mitch asked.

  “I not sure, that’s up you. But look around, don’t see anyone else trying help you,” Drak stated.

  It was difficult for Mitch to disagree with Drak on that point.

  “Ughhh, fine, just don’t do anything nuts,” Mitch said, at last, giving in to Drak.

  “Oh, don’t worry. What I’m going to do will be more than nuts,” Drak said and he flashed another mysterious grin. “All need you do is look in camera and say: ‘My name Mitch Mythic and I epiccrotchshot boy’.”

  “What? That’s insane! Why would I say that?” Mitch shot back.

  “Because it totally insane to say. If you want people notice, you must do crazy thing. Saying I ‘epiccrotchshot’ boy is crazy thing.”

  Mitch had a tough time arguing with Drak’s logic. The world of social media was governed by attention, or one’s ability to acquire it. In order to get the attention of the public, one had to engage in an escalating cavalcade of one-upmanship. Mitch was also keenly aware of the fact that he had bottomed out. Aside from going to prison, things couldn’t get any worse. He was also aware that he may have committed a crime. Hitting a person was considered assault and he had hit Sage, really hard, several times. Perhaps Sage had already contacted his father, a prominent lawyer in Kingsford, and they were getting ready to begin a lawsuit against Mitch for aggravated assault. As far as Mitch could tell, he didn’t have a lot of options. He sighed again and looked at Drak earnestly for the first time.

  “Do you really think you can help me?” Mitch asked.

  “I do not doubt for moment,” Drak replied intensely.

  “Fine. How do you want to do this? Do you have a camera or should I use my phone?” Mitch asked wincingly.

  “Phone will be fine,” Drak said. Mitch noticed the slightest hint of a smile cross Drak’s face.

  “Hmm all right. So just look into the camera and say it? That’s all you need me to do?” Mitch asked again, looking to Drak for reassurance.

  “Just need say: My name Mitch Mythic and I am epiccrotchshot boy,” Drak said plainly.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Mitch said. He picked up his phone and opened the camera app. He paused for a moment and closed his eyes. He took a big breath and then exhaled. His thumb pressed the video record button on the camera and a red light began to flash. He looked into the camera and said: “My name is Mitch Mythic and I am epiccrotchshot boy.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mitch spent the walk home from school reeling between emotions. In one moment, he would grimace at the thought of being abandoned by his friends, and then in the next, he found himself elated for having stood up to the people who had disrespected him. Was he the victim or was he the aggressor, he wondered. He hated everyone yet still wanted to be among them. A human, it would seem, cannot escape its genetic propensity for social structure. Even the outsider seeks the approval of the group.

  The walk home from Kingsford High to Mitch’s house led him through a sprawl of suburban homes known as Dream Acres. The neighborhood was a massive property development in Kingsford and all of the homes had been built following a pattern. All of the houses had beautiful front entrances that were lined with pillars. On both sides of the entrance to each house were two large bay windows. Through the windows of each house, a large television could be seen. All of the TVs seemed to be on.

  A pathway through a greenbelt provided a shortcut to Mitch’s street and it also provided a break from the monotony of the well-cured lawns and aluminum paneled houses that were the signature style of the Dream Acres Property development. The greenbelt was Mitch’s preferred route and he knew the path well. The trail followed a water drainage that led to the massive Franklin River nearby. The stream was gushing with the spring runoff and the sound of the babbling water filled the surrounding forest. Birds chattered in the trees and warm rays of light cast off by the afternoon sun crept in through the branches of the soaring pine trees that called the ravine home. A feeling of peace slowly ebbed up Mitch’s spine and he let go a deep exhale as he walked through the forest.

  He
couldn’t help but feel relieved after speaking into the camera at Drak's request. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He hadn’t realized that he had been in denial the entire time since the incident. He had tried to ignore what had happened, spending every waking moment since the final game avoiding any thing to do with the video but that had only made matters worse. The shame he had felt over the last few months had been tremendous. By simply admitting that it was him in the video, he felt a gigantic release of stress and frustration. He knew then that he didn’t have to care about what other people thought about him anymore. There was nothing he could do to change the past but he wasn’t going to be a victim anymore. It didn’t matter to him if Sage wanted to turn everybody against him or if everybody thought that he was some kind of a joke. He didn’t care what they thought and he didn’t care about hockey. He felt that he had freed himself from some type of internal prison and he felt good about himself for the first time in a long time.

  The pathway led to a fork. One path led uphill and the other continued following the stream. Mitch took the uphill path, which led to a neighborhood park and Mitch’s street. The path way came to a steep incline and became walled in by slopes on both sides as it cut into the hill. Mitch heard something moving behind him, and as he turned backwards, he could see three boys approaching him from the other direction. He recognized them immediately, for they were his teammates, or his former teammates. They sneered when they saw him. Mitch turned to run and then he saw Sage standing at the top of the path. He was flanked by two other boys on either side. Mitch knew that he was surrounded. He began to back down the path and he tried to find some way to escape.