Aermes Act 1: Lift-Off The Charts
Last updated
Last updated
COACH WARD: “That boy sure is fast, but he’s dumb as rocks ain’t he?”
ASSISTANT COACH JENKINS: “Sure he seems a little slow, but when you watch him play, he’s got an intuition that’s literally off the charts. I wouldn’t be so sure to write him off.”
Aermes, having the gift of keen hearing ever since he could remember, let’s loose a smirk.
ASSISTANT COACH JENKINS (surprised): “What the f-….you don’t think he heard us do you?”
COACH WARD: “Does it matter if he did? All that boy needs to do is score goals, and we’ll be good.”
It’s been like this since the early days. Back when he was just a young boy playing on the swing set, the others kept their distance and levied what they considered humorous insults at his expense. Aermes never smiled with his eyes, only ever smirking at things he found beneath him. The other kids found this robotic, in a way that left everyone around him feeling uncomfortable.
You see, Aermes was no ordinary boy. He was what they called gifted. While others would frolic and laugh with all the purity that childhood holds, he was tormented with a much different experience: the burden of extreme intelligence. Although he kept himself preoccupied with building all manner of inventions, he did not lie to himself that his early childhood was anything other than that of extreme loneliness. He tried reasoning with himself, hating the very simple fact that someone of his ability would even be bothered by something so frivolous as perception. The reality of what he knew to be true and just fought with his inner turmoil. Depression became his only consistent friend for much of his young life.
On the outside, Aermes took a jaded pleasure in behaving as someone who was mentally handicapped. He would stare blankly as his classmates surrounded him and asked him simple questions.
“Hey Freak! What’s 1 + 1?!”
“Aermes! Do you know how to spell your own name?!”
“When’s the last time you spoke a full sentence loser?!”
At home, it wasn’t much different. His family never embraced his gifts either. His 12 siblings regularly joined in the mockery, and our young hero Aermes only found solace in a secret room he had built underneath the crawlspace. Nobody noticed the meals he skipped, or perhaps they never cared. Aermes would lock himself in this room for hours on end, reading books on subjects ranging from quantum physics to international political game theory. Books became his second-best friend.
Eventually, the boy turned into a teenager, and with it, developed all the tell-tale signs of puberty-induced aggression. Aermes (ever the one to self-diagnose a problem with startling accuracy) knew the least harmful path to stabilize his brain chemistry was to get involved in physical activity: so he chose soccer. He trained all summer long, reading the autobiographies of the great players that came before him, in order to concoct a training regiment that would ensure he would become the top athlete in his school. He trained until his feet bled, his toenails fell off, and he became as fast as a gazelle.
As a freshman (grade 9) in high school, Aermes dominated the pitch, breaking and setting State records with each game he played. Soon, the very same people who bullied him befriended him, and the entire school took pride in all of his accomplishments. However, he never saw his parents or his siblings at any of the games. And through all the attention he received, he could not help but feel contempt, never feeling like the current day perception could ever wipe away a childhood filled with insult.
As the season came to an end, with Aermes winning the State Championship as the MVP, the school decided to host a banquet for the soccer team. They sent invites to all of the parents, and for once in his life, Aermes looked forward to seeing how his family would react once he received honors on stage. After putting on his suit jacket, and heading out of his secret room to join the rest of the family, he noticed that everyone had already left the home. Finding it strange that they would leave without him, he looked around the house for indicators as to why they would have left early. What he found was a flyer on the kitchen table for the county fair that was taking place that very same night.
Dejected and filled with anger, he ran into his laboratory. He turned on the high-density particle accelerator and brought to life an invention he had been working on for the past 5 years.
The four rings of flight were brought to life. Placing each one on his hands and legs, he commands them to take flight. He struggles to find his balance, failing time and time again — until he finally gains control. Feeling as if what lies ahead was worlds better than what lay behind, Aermes takes flight and runs away for good.
