LANCE, THE WASTELANDER

     “Lance never really wanted to disappear from the world. He didn´t quite disappeared, he got invisible. Well, he didn´t actually got invisible either, as he would find out in one of his early travels, he discovered he had the ability to create an electro-magnetic field around his body which deflected rays of light away from him, giving people the impressions that there was no Lance, whereas Lance was.

     Anyway, Lance didn´t ask for it.

     He had a nice life and was the only son of a respected member of the tribe. Ask, Lance´s father, was the best repairman in the settlement. He had all the experience that lacked in his son, but the discipline and talent was shared by both.

     After the day Lance was cast away from the tribe, people would still talk about the day Lance and his father fixed up a whole airplane. It was a bit of a local legend, really. No living person today saw that airplane, but if you ask around, even though the Fixers won´t confirm it, they´ll never deny it.

     It was just sometime after our character first began to fade away, and he even started thinking he was getting the hang of it, that his life changed from water, to saltwater.

     At that time, they also had the every-year-festival that we still hold to this day, the fair, as the Ressurectors used to call it, attracted folks from everywhere, from local communities to distant cities. That year, the fair was held here. Those people gathered to show their inventions and constructions and brag about them, the objective was to select the one that could improve people´s life the most.

     Lance´s family were a big attraction for some years with their repair workshop and that year, since they were in their homeland, they had something very special to present. They had found some car parts and intended to rebuild it in front of the audience! Ha! What a presentation it was.

     They were in the biggest tent, well, at least it was the most crowded one. Crawling with watchers. Lots of Learners. It was near the end of the presentation when he faded from the stage. Disappeared. It was hell. There was a great commotion , the whispers began but it wasn´t long for them to become shouts of ‘mutant, mutant’ when Lance showed up again near the tent exit.

     The confusion spread like wild fire, chaos broke loose. Before Ark could step down the stage, someone hit his son´s head with a piece of metal and carried out, not that he could have done anything anyway. There was just no way to run across the tent with all those people there.

     Not even ten minutes have passed and Lance was the new attraction, not the Repairers. Carried to the middle of the fair, he was judged right there. The oldest member of the Ressurectors, Mr. Rainman as everyone called him, had been summoned to be the judge. Lance had a big headache and was bleeding a lot from the back of his head, his legs shaking.

     He didn´t say a word.

     ‘You have to understand young man, we are Ressurectors. We try to understand and recreate the old ways as they were. There is no room for the new ways here. No room for you.’ Mr. Rainman told the boy. Quite unnecessarily, he knew that. It was like he had forgotten he was one of them a few minutes ago.

     His family shouted, screamed, intimidated and then begged, but to no avail. The elder had decided.

     ‘We are not monsters’ the elder told the youngling privately. ‘We don´t want you dead, we just want you out’ Which was pretty much the same for at that time, the wastelands weren´t any safer than today. But out he was. They gave him some money, food, water and a gun. Dressed him for the harshness of the wastes and sent him out. Even the outsiders knew, no, they felt, it was a sad time for the village.

     The boy almost didn´t have time to speak to his family, that were crying in the frontline of the watchful mob as Lance gave the first steps to the Great Nothing.”

     The man halted his narration. The kids around him still had they eyes on him as if they were attached. Behind him, the statue of Lance, the unseeing. He was sitting beside his feet.

     “But” one of the kids asked “If that´s the story of Mr.Lance, did he ever came back here? He has to know that the settlers are sorry for that. Did he ever manage to see the statue?”

     “Oh, my boy…” The man slowly raising himself “He did come back and he knows of the statue. He holds no grudge with the tribe. He understands it was all the elders knew how to do, since it was the only thing they were taught to do with stranger people.”

     He got up, aligned his overcoat and hat and, turning to the kids, with a smile on the face, he said, “but he could never stay here for too long. Since he was exiled, this is not his home anymore. The wastes are. Goodbye, kiddos!”

 

     He disappeared in front of his audience. The kids, startled, couldn´t say a word.

     Anyway, nowadays, who would´ve believed them? Believed the Lone Exiled was still watching over the tribe.

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Uma resposta to “LANCE, THE WASTELANDER”

  1. Ricardo Jevoux Says:

    Escrevi esse texto já faz um tempo, em inglês, nem lembro por que. Resolvi não traduzir e deixar do jeito original. Vamos ver no que dá.

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