As You Wish

As You Wish

You might call Harvey “Walter Mitty Lite”. He didn’t concoct fantastic journeys in his mind, or imagine himself committing an impressive array of heroic deeds. Rather, Harvey’s peculiar inclination rested with his ability to wrap himself in the identities of others more interesting or impressive than himself. More often than not, he found these characters in the movies.

His parents first noticed the unusual behavior the morning after the Saturday night TV presentation of “Superman”. Their son did not pretend to be Superman; he was Superman.

While many little boys have flown around the house at night with a towel flapping in their wake, not many have adopted the identity of the ultra-geeky Clark Kent by day. His parents were required to participate which often involved dropping the traditional labels of “Mom” and “Dad”.

“What’s for breakfast, Lois?”

“Pancakes, Clark.”

“Jimmy, can we play catch later?”

“Of course, Clark.”

“Lois, be sure to leave the kitchen window open in case I have to fly out later.”

“Of course, honey…oops, I mean Clark.” (Per the script, even his parents were not permitted to know Harvey’s true identity. They only called him “Superman” when he was decked out in full rescue regalia.)

The characters changed with Harvey’s age and were largely dependent upon the movies he had seen most recently. The longest running role was his adaptation of Zorro. Harvey was Zorro three Halloweens in a row, and he suffered serious emotional trauma when his parents would not allow him to go to school as the swashbuckling hero. They considered the role playing might have gotten out of hand one morning when Harvey’s Mom inadvertently referred to her husband as “Sergeant Garcia”.

The “Rocky” era was particularly rough on Harvey’s Dad who alternately served as sparring partner and punching bag. He didn’t fair much better during the Jackie Chan days, and his Mom was not at all fond of Harvey following up on dessert demands with a stern “Go ahead, make my day.”

The one sliver of a silver lining for the acts of cinematic imitation was Harvey buying into the “Wax on, wax off” bit. Their two shiny cars were the envy of the neighborhood. All it took was a head band with the Rising Sun and a small cactus they passed off as a Bonsai Tree.

Harvey’s parents hoped Harvey’s obsession with assuming the identities of movie characters would wear off by the time he went to high school, but it didn’t. It wasn’t Harvey Jacobson that walked through the front doors of Central High School that bright, sunny September day; it was the rebel James Dean. In its 55 years of educating children, the school had never seen such a cool customer.

Harvey had been working on the hair style for days, and he managed to find a black leather jacket at a rummage sale. The shades more than made up for the absence of a pack of cigarettes rolled up in his T-shirt sleeve. Harvey was feelin’ it.

The other students could not be faulted if they didn’t realize just how cool Harvey, n/k/a James Dean, was, but Harvey knew, and that’s what mattered. Confidence. He didn’t walk down the hallways, he strutted.

Who could be cooler than James Dean? Harvey could feel the adoring gaze of the girls as he walked by. Most freshman boys stress over matters of boy-girl relationships. As Harvey checked out the bevy of beauties crowding the hallways, his only concern was how he would winnow the flock down to a manageable 3 or 4. Maybe he would hold a lottery just to be fair.

Seventh hour study hall surpassed the gala premier of any movie ever made. There would be no need for a process of cutting down the dating pool. It was Romeo catching his first glimpse of Juliet, Michael captured by the vision of Apollonia. The most beautiful girl young Harvey had ever seen was seated just 2 rows over and one row behind. 

Harvey’s eyes popped wide open as his heart was skipping most of its regularly scheduled beats. James Dean would never be caught so lovestruck, actually dumbstruck, so he alternated between furtive glimpses of the angel who had just landed in his world and staring at the bare wood of the desktop in front of him.

Harvey’s brain locked up. It was more than the irresistible pull of romance. Harvey was also struggling to determine just who he was at this moment, or more aptly, who “they” were. You see, for most of his life, Harvey had rarely been Harvey. He had always been one of those characters he had usurped from the big screen. As he had never before personally encountered a matter of the heart, Harvey was having a tough time arriving at an appropriate identity for the occasion.

He smacked himself in the forehead. He had seen the most beautiful girl in the world before. She had been working alongside him tending to the wounded on the frontlines of the Russian revolution. Lara, Lara Antipov. What was she doing here? It didn’t matter. Fate brought her back to him. Their love had been instant, from the very moment their eyes met, but it lingered in the magnetic forces that revolved around them that kept them separated for a time. It was the same today in that high school study hall, intense feelings kept apart by two rows of desks.

The world had never known such passion. Zhivago’s love for Lara could not be cooled by the years, a bloody war, and hundreds of miles of frozen tundra. Two rows of desks certainly wouldn’t keep Harvey from the love of his life. Maybe he would get up right now and walk over to Lara’s desk. She will be shocked to see him. “Yuri!”, said with sheer joy. She will leap to her feet, and her arms will embrace him like the welcoming branches of a Rowan tree.

But wait. Zhivago and Lara separate at the end. That’s not good. This needed a little recalibration. At least Harvey wouldn’t have to work on developing a Russian accent tonight.

Harvey snuck a few more peeks at the angel 2 rows away. She smiled at him! He knew it! It was indeed the beginning of a storybook romance. He just needed to figure out who they were.

He added a hat, tilted to one side. Then he knew. Of all the high school study halls in this crazy world, why did she have to walk into this one? All the memories came flooding back, and the pain again filled his heart. But that smile. Had fate also smiled on him? He’d man-up. He would take charge. He would do the thinking for both of them. Their love was real, intense. After all this time and the trauma of war, it had endured. They lost it all once, but now they would have it all back again. He’d be looking at Ilsa again.

And the added bonus. Bogie was darn near as cool as James Dean. A tough guy man’s man, a beautiful girl, and a world class romance. It doesn’t get any better than that.

But wait. Rick leaves Ilsa at the airport. That’s not good. This act of selflessness would make him a true hero, but he would be alone. Nope, that didn’t work for Harvey. Recalibrate.

Harvey went through a number of possible movie matchups made in heaven, each presenting a wonderful look at love, but also saddled with a “fatal” flaw.

Harvey saw a lot of Jack in himself, handsome, gallant, selfless and heroic. Painting the beautiful girl 2 rows over in the nude also had a certain appeal. But the idea of floating around on a piece of busted up wood in the frigid waters of the North Atlantic, and then sinking into the depths to save Rose, was a deal breaker.

Harvey had played junior league hockey so Oliver wooing Jenny was a natural. Although she was a tad on the bratty side, the first half of the movie was pretty near perfect. But watching his lover wither away and die was not what Harvey was looking for. Move on.

Even though Harvey was a good runner and never considered himself valedictorian material, Forest’s Jenny met a similar fate to Oliver’s Jenny. Throw in the fact that Harvey was not a fan of "peas and carrots", and that unlikely couple was another no-go.

Harvey moved on to another memorable romance. There can be no greater set of soulmates than Heathcliff and Cathy. I mean, how could you outdo “I am Cathy!” But alas, poor Cathy. She too met an untimely demise, and Harvey couldn’t see himself whispering sweet messages to his dream girl buried beneath his feet.

Harvey kept running into dead ends (pardon the sort of a pun) in his fanciful search for a suitable couple for him and the beautiful girl 2 rows over to emulate. It didn’t seem possible that half of these historic couples made an early exit out of this world.

Harvey felt lost, alone. The moment was bigger than he was. He needed to wrap himself, actually himself and the beautiful girl 2 rows over, in the aura of something so fantastic it had only previously been seen in movies. Think, Harvey, think.

Oh my gosh! The beautiful girl 2 rows over had him completely befuddled. Somehow Harvey had forgotten about his own personal favorite romantic couple. The beautiful girl 2 rows over was not Juliet, not Apolonia, not Lara, not Ilsa, not Rose, not Jenny, not the other Jenny, and not Cathy. He had found his true love, the love that would last forever, the love that would never die. Remarkably, Wesley had found Buttercup in his 9^th Grade study hall!

True love. It was all anyone could dream of, hope for, in life. He would be totally committed to her, and she to him. He would do everything to please her and respond to her every request with a simple, warm, “As you wish.”

True love. It would define his life. It would be his North Star. Should they ever be apart, he would return to her eager arms. It would be the match made in heaven and admired throughout the world.

He studied the beautiful girl 2 rows over just to make certain it was Buttercup. It was. He couldn’t be certain, but Harvey thought she tossed him another smile, a slight, flirtatious smile. Should he approach her now? Should he be a little standoffish and wait for her to come to him? Maybe a crowded high school study hall wasn’t the ideal place to launch the romance of the century. This was the last period of the day. He would talk to her after class, perhaps at the doorway to the outside. It would a quieter setting, a bit more private, less embarrassing should she lose control, throw herself at him and lavish him with kisses.

True love. Harvey was just 14 years old and he would be with the beautiful girl just 2 rows over for the rest of his life. Wesley and Buttercup were about to embrace the unbreakable bond of True Love, the easiest glide path to happiness ever-after.

He certainly would no longer be a stable boy. Wesley would be a king, and the beautiful Buttercup his Queen. Harvey closed his eyes, smiled and enjoyed his new, adopted life. It was his best appropriation ever, and it would begin in 5 minutes.

Harvey eyes darted back and forth from the clock at the front of the room and the beautiful girl just 2 rows over. The hands on the clock were moving at an extraordinarily slow pace- probably the work of the evil Prince Humperdinck. No worry. Wesley will vanquish all obstacles.

The bell finally rings, and it is a rarely seen combination of the courageous Wesley and the remnants of the stunningly good looking James Dean that parked himself at the school’s main entrance. Wesley keeps an eye out for the crafty Vizzini, the giant Fezzik, and the expert swordsman Inigo Montoya, who threaten harm to the beautiful Buttercup, but all fear to appear. None dare challenge Wesley in his quest for True Love.

Students rushed to the door to put the first day of school behind them. Despite the large, fast moving crowd, Wesley had no trouble spotting Buttercup. She stood out like a Mona Lisa at a rummage sale. The moment she stepped outside, the sun reflected off her golden blonde hair as it flickered in the breeze. And then the hint of a smile when she saw Wesley. She remembered the magical study hall connection!

Wesley stepped toward Buttercup and bowed slightly at the waist. He spoke with great confidence and ease.

“Excuse me, my Lady, it would give me great pleasure if I could have a word with you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m in a hurry. I have to meet my boyfriend. Oh, there he is.”

Wesley glanced in the same direction to see a young man in the driver’s seat of a flashy convertible wave to Buttercup. A boyfriend? A car?! And the guy in the car looked more like Wesley than…Wesley!

Wesley stepped aside and mumbled a barely audible, “As you wish.”

Wesley, n/k/a Harvey, watched Buttercup, n/k/a the beautiful girl 2 rows over, hop into the car as his balloon popped and fluttered to the ground. Shattered. Dismayed. Broken. The adjectives that make a good tragedy couldn’t come fast enough.

As the convertible, along with Harvey’s dream role, disappeared behind a row of trees, a colorful cast of possible replacement movie characters was already floating around in his mind. He didn’t take him long. He suddenly realized he wasn’t Wesley or any of the others who never made the cut. And the beautiful girl just 2 rows over wasn’t Buttercup. She was Mary, Mary Swanson a/k/a Mary Samsonite, who had just been reunited with her kidnapped husband.

Harvey raced home. He slapped a cereal bowl over his head and cut off everything in front that was left uncovered. He looked in the mirror and smiled. Harvey was a good student, but he was confident he could slide into the role. In fact, school would actually be easier if portrayed himself to be “Dumber” than he was.

Losing Buttercup was a bit of a setback, but Lloyd Christmas would be ok. His chance would come someday, even if it was just one in a million. He just had to keep his eyes open.