The Spartan

Here's a story I wrote a little while ago, just for you, Ian

Ben rolled over and punched his pillow. His clock beamed 12:03. He sighed and lay on his back. Green blobs vibrated in the lava lamp on his desk. Moonlight cut through the blinds and stabbed a multicolored award tacked on the bulletin board over his desk.

Best eighth grade Bible verse memorizer

Did I get that only a year ago? I’m certainly old enough by now not to be afraid of being alone.

His lip quivered as a laundry pile rose and formed an armored figure. The soldier lowered a long spear and tickled Ben’s throat with its leaf point.

Sweat stung his eyes as his eyelids snapped open. His breathing settled. The laundry hadn’t moved.

I shouldn’t have seen that movie.

Scenes played themselves back in his head a million times. Persians, Greeks, Persians, Greeks, Persians…Finally his eyelids drooped.

Ben spiraled toward cliffs surrounding a narrow pass. Dust and shrill war cries filled the air. He collapsed on the rocks and gaped at his surroundings.

He crawled to the cliff’s edge and peered into the valley. Arrows hissed toward a strand of battered infantry with giant letters painted on their shields. Countless figures charged them with scimitars.

Thermopylae.

The armies clashed, but row upon row of the Persians fell against the Spartan line.

A powerful hand wrenched Ben onto his back. His heart stopped as an armored figure menaced him at spear point. His cape billowed with a sudden breeze.

“What are you doing here?”

Ben studied the dents in the man’s armor. “I wasn’t doing anything. I was just blown here while I was trying to sleep.”

“You’re from Athens. They’re the only ones who’d invent such ridiculous clothing. I am King Leonidas of Sparta.”

“Well, I’m from Delaware…”

“You mean Delphi.” The Spartan knelt. “I have longed for a prophet in these hours. But a child? First woman prophesize and now children. What will happen today?”

Ben’s eyes lit up and he stood. “You and your men are going to fight the greatest battle in history. Someone’s going to betray you guys, and you’ll be outflanked. You’re going to order your seven thousand allies to leave you and your three hundred Spartans to face the enemy alone to avoid causalities.”

Leonidas removed his helmet and his grey-streaked beard dripped sweat.

“Even then you and your men can’t be overcome. Xerxes orders his archers to finish you guys off from a distance. Your struggle is one of histories greatest stories.”

“Boy…”

“How long did you have to train to be able to fight all day?”

“Boy…”

“Can I have your autograph?”

The king stood. “Fool! Be silent. I want more than glory. My life has been an endless story, filled to the brim with sorrow. I want hope. Tell me, will I be taken into the heavenly realms and to be made a god?”

Ben played with his shirt. “To be honest, I’m not really a prophet. I’m from the future.”

“Then by Zeus, take me to the future.”

“Well, you see I really don’t have control over that.”

A wind swept the two up from the cliff. Ben screamed as wind whistled through his teeth. Light blinded him, and he and the Spartan crashed inside some trashcans.

Bricks walls towered overhead and rush-hour bustled outside the alley. Ben groaned as he climbed out of the trashcan and brushed rotten fruit off his pajamas.

Leonidas impaled a trash bag. “What is this filth? This no way to treat a guest.”

“You’re telling me?”

The Spartan avoided puddles and watched cars passing. He held his helmet under an arm. “So, this is the future.”

Five men with torn shirts and chains hanging from their baggy pants rushed into the alley. The leader picked up a board. “What youz guys thinking you’re doing here? This is the Hog’s turf. Beat it, both of youz.”

Leonidas placed his helmet on his head and hefted his spear over his shoulder. “Come take the spot. I’ll feed you to the war crows and I won’t bury your remains properly. Come be impaled on my spear, the sweet kiss of death.”

The gang looked at their leader. “Dude.”

“Get him you losers.”

Their switch blades clicked. Leonidas roared, but Ben caught his arm.

“Let me use the spear. Use this.” He handed the Spartan a trashcan lid. “You can tell everyone about how you beat five guys with no weapon.”

Leonidas grinned and handed over the spear as he took the lid.

Good. I can’t stand the sight of blood.

The Spartan knocked the gang’s leader out cold. The other members hesitated, but Leonidas hammered a member with a pierced nose till he collapsed. The other three ran.

“I shall decimate your descendents if ever you return, and I’ll smear your face in the dirt beneath my feet.”

“You got problems, man.”

The Spartan laughed and nudged a still figure with his toe. “I want that ring in this one’s nose.”
Ben tried laughing. “Um, didn’t you want to see what the future is like?”

“Of course. Let us see how many remember the Spartans.”

Ben stepped over the dormant gang members and followed clutching the Spartan’s spear. Leonidas halted as he stepped onto the sidewalk. Fumes permeated the air as cars zipped by. Someone honked and threw a beer bottle. It shattered on Leonidas’ armor.

He turned to Ben. “What madness is this?”

Ben glanced up and down the street. I need some sort of landmark.

“What’s that? Is it a temple built in the Spartan’s honor? What beautiful gold and fine arches.”

“That’s McDonalds. We’re not going there. Now I know where we are. I’ll take you somewhere I know.”

Leonidas blocked the path of women in a stiff business suit. He smiled and removed his helmet. “Excuse me, fair maiden. You are as beautiful as fair Helen and Hera and…”

“Police!”

The woman backed away, holding her briefcase ready to swing. A car rumbled onto the sidewalk and an officer with thick shades stepped from the cab.

“What’s wrong with you? Go get dressed and stop disturbing the peace.”

The Spartan’s fingers tightened on his trashcan lid.

“Sorry, sir.” Ben separated the two. “My uncle is a historical fanatic. I’ll find him some real clothes instead of armor.”

The policeman nodded and stepped back into his car as his radio crackled.
Leonidas stared into the police cab. The cop glared as he tried listening to a message.

“Don’t you know what a Spartan looks like?”

The officer slammed his receiver down. “Look, buddy, this isn’t Greece. Nobody cares about the Spartans.”

“What about Leonidas? You do know about him, don’t you?”

“Never heard of him.”

The king’s helmet and lid clattered on the pavement. Ben tugged on the Spartan’s arm. “Come on, uncle. We’d better hurry if we want to be where I’m thinking by noon.”

Leonidas snatched his helmet from the pavement and tucked Ben under his arm. “Which way?”
“Cross the street and go two blocks. Wait. You can’t just…”

Brakes screeched and horns blared as the Spartan weaved through traffic.

A man leaned out his window. “You idiot.”

Leonidas wrenched his spear away from Ben and plunged it into the man’s car hood. A police siren whined as he hurdled onto the opposite sidewalk.

“You’re nuts. Put me down.”

Leonidas sat Ben down. He jogged to keep pace with the Spartan’s walk. The king’s features hardened and he didn’t listen as drivers yelled.

“Are you alright?”

Leonidas walked faster. “Alright? I’ve lived my life for glory and people don’t even remember me. Everyone has a place in battle, every man has his task, but is mine just to die? Is that the only reason I was born? Like a story told by one of the great storytellers, that is how I’ve lived my live, but it doesn’t matter.”

A stone building with stain glass windows loomed over the sidewalk, and hymns floated out the oak door.

Ben leaned against a railing. “Stop.”

Leonidas’ jaw set as he examined the church’s high arches and stone steps.

“Is this a temple?”

Ben nodded. “Leonidas, your life is a great story, but it’s better to have your name in a certain book instead of making your own. Follow me and I’ll show you.”

The king’s nostrils flared. “It would be an abomination to all the gods if I entered.”

“There’s the creep!” Six figures charged down the sidewalk with chains whistling over their heads.

“I thought you said you wanted hope.”

“Perhaps glory is my hope.”

Ben gasped. “Leonidas, you’re fading.”

The policeman rumbled onto the sidewalk and jumped out of the cab. “Put your hands up, you loon.”

Leonidas placed his helmet on his head. “Farewell, Ben of Delphi. If there is no Zeus, I trust my glorious death will buy me into some god’s court.”

“It doesn’t work that way. Listen to me…”

The Spartan’s limbs disintegrated, followed by his armor. His eyes remained. Policemen’s radios and the gang’s shouts mingled with battle cries as a vortex engulfed everything. Ben stood riveted by the fading eyes.

“Farewell, comrade.”

The vortex spiraled and warped everything. Leonidas’ shouts mingled with the confusion.
“Tonight we dine in Hades, my brothers.”

Ben bumped his head and fought to untangle himself from his laundry pile. Eventually he crawled back into bed and stared at the ceiling.

“All you needed was your name in one book. Why’d you try making your own story?”