The Mighty Mortimer

Mortimer Macklin didn’t think water had ever tasted so good as he slurped from a clear mountain stream below the family campsite. Just as he was about to wipe a hand across his mouth and stand up refreshed, the creek surface glittered with bright colored light. Mortimer fell back onto the creek bank tilting his head up just in time to catch remnants of a shooting star in the dark sky above him. Mortimer hadn’t seen but three shooting stars in all his twelve years but knew this one was different. It looked like it was dragging a bright colorful rainbow leaving blue, green, pink and purple glitters in its wake to polka dot the night sky. Mortimer couldn’t see his eyes shimmer but briefly felt a warm swimmy sensation.

“Wow. That was da bomb diggity!” He wanted to stay creek side, maybe catch another colorful show but his parents had told him to hurry back to the tent after he’d gotten a bedtime drink. Mort really wanted to tell his older brother Michael what he’d just seen so he hurried back bursting into the shared tent. 

“Mike! Wake up! You won’t believe what I just saw.”

“Leave me alone, Mort. I don’t care what you saw. Its pitch black out there, how could you see anything?”

“It was in the sky, Mike. So bright, the colors bounced off the creek. It…”

“Colors? You’re nuts, Mort. Go to sleep.” Mike tucked his head deeper into the sleeping bag.

Dejected, Mortimer burrowed into his own sleeping bag. “It did to have colors, rainbow colors.”

His father’s voice rang out from a second tent, “Go to sleep boys. Long hike tomorrow.”

Mortimer hadn’t thought about the colorful shooting star again until walking to school the next Monday morning when he encountered the Barnhart twins. Mean bullies each. It seemed to Mortimer one of them should be nice, but no. They were both nasty and mean. Mort expected to have his school books pushed out of his hands as he passed the brothers and then have to hand over his lunch card, which, either Ben or Ken would shred to pieces. But as the distance between them narrowed, Mortimer felt swimmy and light headed again, like he had the night of the shooting star. He hoped he wasn’t getting sick as something whispered in his head, “Smile at the twins and say good morning.” Mortimer did as instructed.

“’Morning Ken. ‘Morning Ben.” Mortimer smiled as big as he could. The result was genuine and totally unexpected. Both boys wore a shocked look, shook their heads in disbelief and replied, “Good morning Mortimer.”

Ken continued, “What happened to your eyes, Mort?” 

“Huh?”

“Ben added, “Yeah, they twinkled a whole bunch of different colors. How’d you do that?”

“Don’t have a clue.” Mortimer walked away in a daze as he realized he had just defused two of the worst bullies in his class. And he still had all his school books and lunch card.

Later that morning Mort was not looking forward to French class. Mr. Watson was a hard teacher and French was not Mort’s favorite class. He just couldn’t get it. Something about word pronunciation.

As he took his seat, Mortimer read the assignment already written on the chalk board.

 ‘Pop Quiz, Chapter 17’

“Ah, Mr. Watson?” Mortimer knew he was on shaky ground here. He wasn’t prepared for the test but Mr. Watson didn’t take kindly to questions. He was stern and direct. Frowning, he turned quickly toward Mortimer but his guarded stance immediately softened as he looked into Mort’s eyes. “Yes, Mort?”

“Sir, could we have some time to review Chapter 17 before taking the quiz?” Mortimer was again feeling the not-quite-here lightheadedness.

“Absolutely. Does the rest of the class require more review time?”

A group ‘yes’ rose up from the class along with cheers for Mortimer.

“But Mort..”

“Yes sir?”

“You might see an eye doctor, son. Are you having trouble with your vision?”

“No sir.”

“Well, I’d suggest speaking to your parents. OK, class, twenty minutes to review Chapter 17, then on with the quiz.”

Walking home with Mike after school that day, they ducked into the local Seven-Eleven for slushies and came face to face with Stephen. Stephen was a high school football defensive line-back. This guy was built like a refrigerator. He had no fear. He was somebody you’d love to have on your side in a fight but Stephen had a cruel streak. It was said Stephen’s father didn’t have a job. Mike and Mortimer knew Stephen lived outside of town near the old railroad tracks, the family was poor.

Both boys tried to side step Stephen but he grabbed Mike by the elbow. “Where’d think you’re going, punk?”

“Just getting a slushie, is all.”

“Yeah, just a slushie, Stephen.” Mortimer seconded Mike’s answer and had that swimmy feeling again. As he did, Stephen looked in Mort’s eyes. 

“Oh. Sure guys. Sorry Mike.” Stephen let go of Mike’s elbow, allowing both boys to pass.

The Macklin brothers exited the convenience store with blueberry slushies, continuing the walk home.

“Mike, I know you don’t believe me, but I swear I saw colored lights in the sky when we were camping. And what’s more, I think I have some kind of power now.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“It’s crazy, I know, but three times today when someone was mean, they looked at me and their meanness went away. Ken Barnhart and Mr. Watson both said my eyes twinkled. And every time it happened, I got this woozy, lightheaded feeling just like I got when I saw the shooting star.”

Mike stopped walking and Mortimer could almost see Mike’s brain working. “Ok, you little goof ball, give me that slushie! Mine’s all gone, so give it here.” Mike reached out to grab Mortimer’s cup, Mort clutched the cup tightly, swung it around to his left then looked directly at his brother. Right away Mortimer saw the transition in his older brother.

“Gosh, Mortimer, I’m sorry. That’s your slushie.” Mike realized he was awash with peace, wanting only goodness for his little brother. He’d never before felt such calm.

“Mortimer, I don’t have the foggiest idea what happened to you by that creek last Saturday but if it’s a super-power, keep spreading that kindness little brother!”