\documentstyle[12pt]{report}
\title{The King Who Would Be Boy}
\author{by: George A. Madrid \\   \\ 21.755---Writing and Reading the Short
Story \\ with Steve Strang}
\date{\today}
\begin{document}
\maketitle
\begin{quote}
{\em This work has been proofread.  However, it does contain several
errors in spelling or in literary allusion.  There errors are included
for effect and have been used purposely by the author.}
\end{quote}
\vspace{20pt}

``We must hasten to the great water!'' cried Arthur to the group of
armored men around him.  ``Make great haste!  To the great water!'' he
called again raising his small fist defiantly to the sky.  He looked
at the great knights huddled around him, his mind conjuring a glorious
vision of grandeur and gallantry which only his eyes could see.  In
his own little reality, he could even discern the sweetly pungent
smell of the horses, and hear their restless snorting as they
struggled under the weight of heavy barding.  He felt himself being
lifted onto the greatest of the warbeasts, a white stallion which paced
impatiently.  He turned to the man on the gelding beside him and
looked into a pair of eyes, more ancient than any other eyes in the
world.  He conveyed a silent message, more than simple words could
say.  Then, the world seemed to stop and wait.  Reaching to his side,
and with all the reverence given to a great relic, he drew forth his
great sword.  Holding it over his head, brandishing it, he set the
world in motion once again.  It is said in legend that the army could
be heard for miles chanting his name.  ``Arthur!  Arthur!
Arthur\ldots!''
\vspace{15pt}

``Arthur!  Arthur!'' screamed his mother, her sharp voice snapping him
out of his daydream.  ``Can't you hear me when I'm speaking to you?  I
said that you've been in the house long enough.  It's not good for you
to sit around watching T.V. all day.  Arthur, are you listening to me?
Go outside and play\ldots NOW!''
\vspace{15pt}

Arthur went outside, just as all good boys do when they are told.  Now
that he was out, though, he had just one problem.  Just what was a
little boy supposed to do on a boring summer day.  He could go to the
pet store to play with the puppies, or to the drainage ditch to swim,
or down the street to the cardboard box he called a fort, but he had
done all of those things until they were no longer fun.  Then he had
an idea.  It was risky, but that would make it more exciting, and when
he told his friends about it, they would all call him so brave.  He
would walk to the Lady's Lake all by himself, something which no other
boy in the whole second grade had ever done before.
\vspace{15pt}

``For the sake of glory and the Holy Plate!'' Arthur challenged as he
set forth into the forest.  He was sure the Knights of the Round Table
would say something like that; they alwayts had something really neat
to say.  The ``Holy Plate'' business was his added touch.  He knew he
had heard the story somewhere about the last plate that was used at
the Last Supper and was proud to have remembered it and integrated it
so well into his grand soliloquy.  He saw himself as the brave knight
who has forsaken his armor and weapons to go on pilgrimage.  The whole
idea made his toes tingle in anticipation.  

He set forth onto the path to the Lady's Lake.  The trail was old and
well-worn, following it would be no trouble.  It was only a
quarter-mile to the lake, but the Lady's Lake Trail was not meant to
be direct.  It was worn by the feet of countless men and women out for
an afternoon stroll.  The actual distance travelled by a person
walking to the lake was about one mile, as the path wound through the
wood, playing a strange game of Blind Man's Bluff with its patrons.

The forest, called Rutter's Wood by the locals, was also old, much
older than the path of course, since a forest is the one true
prerequisite to a good forest trail.  As old as it was, the forest had
become quite thick, so thick in fact that only at noon could it truly
be called well lit.  At all other times of the day, it maintained a
soft brightness which could only be compared with any justification to
an extended twilight.  The forest had a mystic quality to it which
evaded definition.

It was this environment into which brave Arthur stepped.  To explain
the eerie feeling Arthur got upon entrance to the dim timberland is
akin to explaining the sensation one gets when he is being watched.
It was a strange apprehension, rather like walking with one's eyes
closed, fearing each new step.  His first steps were rather brisk.
His arms were swinging with each stride.  He was singing aloud the
songs which he was sure the knights would have sung.

Then he heard a soft rustle in the brush, and his pace slowed.  He
stopped singing and started listening, beginning almost to creep
forward.  He was very cautious, lest he encounter anything from which
he might have to run.  He was anxious to have a weapon and had
considered many times grabbing a stick from the side of the path.  He
would have, too, if he had not been so afraid of leaving the trail.
Presently, he came upon a large, dead tree limb sticking out of a mud
pool on the very edge of the beaten track.  Finally, his weapon was
delivered to him.  Dropping to his knees and saying a silent prayer
in the proper knightly manner, he placed both hands on the end of the
stick.  ``Praise and thanks to the good spirits above for bringing me
this magik sword with which to defeat all evil,'' he chanted.  Then
with all the strenght he could muster, he pulled the stick\ldots.

``Why didn't it move?'' he wondered.  He pulled and heaved again and
again, but again, it refused to budge.  He gave up.

He had not gone five steps when he turned back.  He had to have his
sword and refused to be beaten.  He grabbed the stick and with a great
effort of will more than strength, he pulled the great sword free.
\vspace{15pt}

Armed with his new sword, Arthur walked with a new courage.  he feared
nothing and even welcomed the challenge of great evil.  He knew that
his great sword was a gift to be used to overcome the bad things in
the forest.  In his heart, he knew that his sword was more than a
match for anything.

It was not long after that that young Arthur was faced with an
opportunity to prove the infallibility of his great sword, for
suddenly, by his side, just off the trail, was the largest snake
Arthur had ever seen.  Before he knew it, he struck out at the
creature, beginning to regret his great pilgrimage.  The snake became
enraged at the attack and reared back to defend itself.  Arthur
continued to strike, succeeding only in angering the serpent even
more.  As he stared into the snake's eyes, strangely, he became more
calm.  He stood still and in his mind, told the beast to go away.
Now, since the attack had subsided, the snake felt less agitated and
crawled away from the source of danger.  Arthur took a deep breath,
and he continued his quest.
\vspace{15pt}

As young as Arthur was, it was understandable that he soon got very
bored.  All he had done so far was walk along a dull path with no one
to talk to.  Where was the adventure he had expected?  The only things
he had seen all day were a bunch of trees and a couple of
squirrels\ldots And suddenly he knew!
\vspace{15pt}

The great Squirrel Hunt began.  Arthur had left the path in search of
great game.  He quickly spotted a small squirrel and engaged it in h
ot pursuit.  {\em Whack!}  He missed the squirrel, smacking the ground with
his sword.  {\em Thunk!}  The hollow sound of wood-on-wood as his sword
struck the side of the tree up which the poor beast had fled.  He had
chased the creature for fifteen minutes and was determined not to give
up the hunt.  He had followed it between trees and on and off the path
and even through a hollow tree trunk, and now, if he had to climb a
tree, he was going to climb a tree.  Up he went, almost falling
several times in an effort to ascend and to not drop his sword.  Just
a few more feet\ldots the last thing he remembered was the sound of
splintering wood\ldots.
\vspace{15pt}

He awoke with a strange feeling in his stomach.  He felt as if it had
caved in.  ``Gosh!'' he thought as he reached down to put his hand on
his stomach.  He had grown fur.  ``What!''  That was impossible.  he
opened his eyes and looked down. To his surprise, there, asleep on his
tummy was the same squirrel he had chased all over the forest.
Immediately, he grabbed its tail and whacked it on the head.  Arthur
was so proud.  He held his prize above his head and looked closely at
it.  He saw the small droplets of blood which were dripping from the
crushed skull.  he stared into the small dead eyes and threw up.
\vspace{15pt}

Several minutes later, he remembered the reason for his trip and
slowly set off to find the path once more.  It was just over to his
left\ldots or was it right?  Oh well, he'd find it.
\vspace{15pt}

Half an hour later, Arthur was still searching for the trail. No
matter how hard he looked, it just was not in the same place.  He
could not be looking in the wrong place, could he\ldots?
\vspace{15pt}

What was that?

He was sure he heard something behind himself.  He turned, and it
moved.  Now it was behind him again.

What was that?

The sound he heard was rustling, like something large was walking
across dead leaves, and he knew exactly what it was, too!  It was the
ghost of the squirrel.  It had grown to twelve-feet high and was
coming to get him.  He started running as fast as his legs would carry
him.  Once he thought about turning around and using his sword to
defend himself, but since that blasted sword had not done much good so
far today, the thought soon crossed his mind.  He just kept running.
It seemed to be the only solution.

He ran and ran and ran and then stopped.  He had to, for infront of
him was the Lady's Lake.  He could run no further, and anyway , he was
tired of running.  At that moment, his life changed.  he made a
decision---to face the squirrel without his weapon.  After all, it has
been quite useless so far.  It was time to rely on himself for a
change.

He took the stick in his hand and threw it spinning into the lake.  He
half expected to see the Lady come to retrieve it, but no!  It was
time to stop living in dreams.

And then, the stick hit the water.  And suddenly, all sound and
movement ceased, to be replaced by the splash of the stick.  Each drop
of water seemed to have a life of its own and jumped out of the lake
to hail Arthur, the new Arthur.  Even the great crashing in the woods
stopped, drowned out by the tumult of the water.  And when the sound
of the water stopped, Arthur was proud, not of defeating the giant
squirrel, nor of beating the snake, not even of being the first person
in the whold second grade to come by himself to the Lady's Lake.  No,
he was just proud of being Arthur, not King Arthur, just Arthur
Malory, ordinary school kid.
\vspace{15pt}

Since the trail ended at the Lady's Lake, it ws not long before Arthur
was well on his way home.  he ws not frightened, even though it ws
beginning to get dark.  Nor did he hurry home.  Instead, he walked
briskly, listening to the song of the birds and the chitter of the
squirrels as they settled down for the night.

He was a little anxious to be home, though.  His feet hurt.  He had
come a long way that day.  I should know.  That little kid is me.

  

  



















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