Strings Attached

In the small, Italian town of Sanremo legend spoke of a man who had the powers to bring toys to life. Not all toys, though-only toys made of wood. From wooden puppets to wooden horses, all play things made from the trunk of a tree could potentially be a living play thing, almost human-like with a mind of its own. It was in this small, coastal town that Piero lived. Piero had always been the runt in the lot within his family, and as such was pushed around by his older brothers. Being the middle child of five, he tended to spend more time with his younger sister and much younger brother. His parents would find their sone playing dolls with his younger sister Alessandra and her friends, while keeping a keen eye on his mischievous younger brother who could barely walk but still seemed to have no problem getting into trouble.

When he turned fourteen, his parents enrolled him in a secondary school and pushed him to focus on STEM subjects. As a marine engineer, his father Gustavo knew the importance of engineers to the functioning of the modern world, and wanted to set Piero up for success in the real world, away from the bitter agonies the boy faced in school amongst his peers. There was never a day where Piero wasn’t fleeing from the apathetic bullies. At just shy of 5 feet in height when he started high school, he was shorter than most of the girls and a prime target for all sorts of mocking and belittlement.

After a day spent at school with a brain that refused to learn what it was being taught, he would flee to his room where he could play with his toys in solace. In the worlds he created, he felt like he mattered and was safe from scrutiny by everybody else. With the door closed and his back away from the world, he would create life from his imagination within the confines of his room.

As Piero got older, he took a keen interest in carpentry. While his illustrious schoolmates were delving into furniture building and constructing houses, Piero was more interested in creating birdhouses, slot cars and dollhouses, contrary to his father’s persistence to get into structural engineering. While Piero’s small gnome-like hands grew bigger, his aspirations never grew outside of the woodshop as he didn’t explore any so-called practical pursuits pertaining to his skills with woodworking, which were blossoming before his very eyes.

One day, as the leaves turned brown and the sky grew dark with the looming threat of storm clouds approaching, Piero was using the jig saw to craft a wood handle for his wooden wagon he was carving from his imagination when to his chagrin the bell rang. “Ok, that’s it. The jig is up!” Dan, the woodshop teacher bellowed over the coarse noise of the jagged teeth of the saws cutting through the hardwood. He grinned at his unadorned pupil. Piero turned the machine off and put the safety on while Dan looked with eager eyes at the teenager with disheveled, brown hair, excited with anticipation at what the wagon could become.

Students frantically grabbed their book bags as Piero put the piece of beveled wood on a tray next to a box opened on the top. “See you tomorrow” Dan called out to no one in particular as the crowd containing Piero left. The noise from the saws died down as the class emptied. Only one blonde kid remained, examining his pieces of wood he had cut down to build a shelving unit.

Dan looked slightly annoyed as he put his hand on his head, feeling the thinning of his hair as his age crept up on him. “Hey Smith.” The teen looked up. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. “Can you watch the woodshop? I’m just going to go to the bathroom. But get ready to go, because when I get back I plan on locking up.” The teen looked at him and shrugged without saying anything, nodding his head.

As Dan briskly walked out, skateboards could be heard outside as two goons came into view. “Hey Clyde. Oscar.” They fist-bumped. “I’m almost done with it.” He showed them the shelves.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Clyde asked. “School is for nerds. Let’s get out of here.”

“I know, but I have to watch the shop until the teacher gets back.” Then sighed, and waited.

But the next person to open the door wasn’t Dan. The boy with disheveled hair came quietly in to get his math book he had left behind.

“Oh my god, speaking of dweeb.” Clyde’s tongue let loose. Piero picked up his hard bound book from the floor as the three big teenagers approached.

Oscar picked up the box with a blank stare as Clyde pushed Piero down on the hard floor. His book slid from his hands into Smith’s grimy fingers.

“Hey, gimme that back.” Piero got up, sawdust covering his shirt and khakis. Smith held up the book high above his head so Piero could not reach it, as Oscar and Clyde walked over to the table saw and switched it on. A gentle whir came to Piero’s ears as he moved around to see his project put on the table and the safety brought up. His eyes were wide, and he looked in horror as Clyde pushed the incomplete box through the saw. The cut was smooth and clean as the box was flipped to cut through the other side when Piero charged into Clyde, but Oscar grabbed Piero’s shoulders and kept him from interfering in the destruction.

As the second cut finished on the table, a sound like a crack of a whip came from outside, and the room lit up with a bright light. “Shit, it’s gonna rain. Let’s get out of here.” Smith said.

Clyde turned off the table saw and let go of the project. They both grabbed their skateboards and left, while Oscar ran out of the room as the rain slowly trickled outside.

Piero felt cold under his jacket as he looked at his box. It would need to be repaired, but something told him that it would never be as strong as it was before.

The bus was going to leave soon. He ran out of the room with the box, not realizing that he had left the door to the woodshop open. Dan saw him leave with the project. “What on earth? These…kids” he muttered as he grabbed a broom to sweep up the mess he perceived at the saw.

Piero ran through the grass. The bus had just pulled up. Thankfully it was late. He was almost there when he slipped in the mud and fell on the box. Just then, a streak of lighting hit him, and the box grounded him as he felt a jolt move through his fingers. He got up and looked at the box. It was intact, the cuts unseen.

He could feel the box pulsating with life under his fingers when he got home that night. He now had the power to make his creations truly come to life.

As an adult, he became a puppeteer. He found solace building his friends instead of making them in real life. Every night, they would come to life, and he would play cards with them.

One night, a horrible nightmare awoke him abruptly. When he got up, he found that his puppets had vanished.

Sensing something was wrong, he retrieved his axe and went out to look for them. Just then, he heard an alarm, and went to find broken glass at the bank.

He leapt through the opening and swiftly cut down his creations when a light shown behind him and a voice called out, "Put down the axe and step away from the vault."