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Arch of Heroes: Final Draft

“C’mon man, hurry up.”

I stood transfixed by the arch of elephant grass, towering before me. Greek heroes would pass through such arches when adventure beckoned them away to distant shores. Marble would hide the sun until it burst through the hole of the portal, lighting their faces with the cleansing warmth. They trampled rose petals thrown from a thousand lovers. While walking with brutes who would betray them, such heroes knew that just beyond lay truer hearts. The cheering crowd would yell:

“What are you doing? I’ll drag your ass if I have to.”

The tunnel had always been a conduit between the gated community and mine. The tunnel was dark from the roof grass that covered it, at times seeming a sinister pathway. On the other side, however, was a magical world of the rich, on mine was the every American subdivision. The houses were nicer, and the cars were sportier, and all I had to do was walk through the tunnel. To a kid of ten living in a run down rural subdivision, the other side was more then houses. It was a place where adventure breathed in the wind.

I entered the grass tunnel. I left behind the static world of my own subdivision. The tunnel before me merely led to the gated community on the other side, but in my mind it was the difference of two worlds. My world of existed as etched glass, but the world on the other side ran with vibrant colors. The emerald leaves pulled at my skin with itchy hairs. The rustle of the leaves gently tickled my ear, and the air darkened. Into the forest of green we charged, uninhibited by a past, unaware of the future. Blades cut red lines into my legs, yet I could not leave my comrades to fend for themselves in such darkness. A silhouette of a monstrous man appeared before me, and it was clear that this was the guardian of the path, the last obstacle before I could again draw free air. I knew such beasts are meant to be slain, yet I had no weapon to bear against the brute. With a courageous battle cry I lowered my shoulder towards the unaware foe, and charged, my only thoughts of freeing my friends, whom he had imprisoned.

“Ouch! What? Why… I don’t know why we brought you along.”

I had always been the runt of the group, the smallest of the group of miscreants with whom I stuck. Tolerated but not loved, seen but never truly trusted, I had always thought friendship was a mystery for someone else. In this other place, however, perhaps better people existed. I always came with that silent, unknown hope.

He picked me up. He was much older than I was, and bigger. Like a giant, and sometimes, just as mean. Captured by the cruel giant, heaved over his back like a sack of rice, I was destined for a death unfit for my status. Knowing fate would not intervene, I wriggled against the gargantuan human’s hold, but escape was not meant to be. We left the tunnel behind, the brightness of the outside world almost blinding me. Around me I saw glorious structures, perhaps from civilization long lost. The wind soared around me, a strong with the sour scent of vegetation and mud. The area was deserted, yet the giant and his brothers looked around with suspicious intent, perhaps fearing another would steal their precious meal. The giant dropped me to the ground, the ruin they had picked was blocked from the view by other such structures.

“Stay here. If you see anyone, yell. You got that? Okay.”

I could hear the creaking call of the chair swinger. The house across from me didn’t have mold growing from the beige wall shingles. The windows didn’t have dust clouding the panes. The back yard didn’t have weeds, and it was surprisingly well kept. The blades of grass did not vary in their height. It even had a tiny house for some hidden animal. I had never seen the house before. It hurt, however, that a house could be all that mine was not, so I didn’t really think about how my associates were casing the house.

My associates ran around the house. They looked in all the windows as if they suspected someone was home. Then they huddled by the door, one of the barbarians trying to work the knob. I thought it past the capabilities of such brutes, to plumb the depths of such an ancient tomb took ingenuity, but as it turns out, strength is sometimes a substitute. Such treasures do not so easily gift strangers, and they were greeted by a wailing banshee, keening at their insolence. Invisible, it chased them and ignored the lone hero, sitting upon the knoll. Not so, however with Cerberus. It heaved itself upon thick legs, launching its log like body forward with every gallop. Doom approached with speed, staring into my eyes with evil intent.

I felt someone scoop me up and throw me across his shoulder. For a couple of seconds I felt my liver pinch and my throat swell. My comrades were with me all along. My comrades ran back, in the face of danger, to pull their fellow hero out of the fire. Fire represented by the slobbering wolf chasing after us. I could hear its heavy panting, its galloping footsteps as I stared into its face. It looked oddly happy, liquid dripping from the lolling tongue. It chased us back to the tunnel of grass. The dog monster, however, stopped with a yelp as it reached the end of its tether, and watched us with bloodshot, lonely eyes. We returned heroes, backs to the orange glow to the setting sun, victoriously rushing home.


Works Cited

Purdue OWL. "MLA Formatting and Style Guide." The Online Writing Lab at Purdue. 10 May 2008. Purdue University Writing Lab. 12 May 2008 .