Aidan Sellick-- The Diplomatic Youth
Aidan listened to the pouring rain as he contemplated his escape from the cool dark cave which now contained one sixteen year-old boy and three wet tigers. The air was dense and humid and the rain outside seemed distant as an eerie silence crept throughout the cave. His senses were heightened, his eyes and ears probed the darkness for a way out. All of a sudden the rain stopped and the moon came out, Aidan could see outside the cave for the first time in what seemed like ages. Near the front of the cave were three wet sleeping tigers; one midsized cub, his large protective mother and closest to the mouth of the cave was the massive male king of this jungle. Aidan could just make out the tips of each tiger’s enormous fangs protruding from the corners of their mouths as they slept, and with each breath he took; the moon cast shadows of the king’s great ribs across his smooth striped coat—he looked hungry. His paws were the size of Aidan’s whole head and he couldn’t help but imagine the claws that were retracted within.
Aidan’s mind raced as he planned his escape, but his hand was steady and he wasn’t scared. Twelve feet of dirt floor and three tigers was all that stood between him and the jungle and he was ready to go. So he grabbed his machete, cracked his bare toes against the dirt floor and took off! He took four swift bounding steps, leapt up toward the cave wall, pushed off of it with his right foot, nimble like a cat, and was over the tigers in an instant. He landed on his right foot outside the cave in a cold puddle that splashed muddy water over the king’s back and took off running into the wilderness chopping the thick brush with his machete as he went.
He could hear the tiger running after him as he went so he picked up the pace, now running faster than he even imagined he could. CRACK! He ran head first into a low hanging branch. The tiger caught up to him and he knew his life was about to end. His whole life flashed before his eyes. However, rather than ripping him apart with his massive fangs and claws, the tiger began batting him gently on the side of the head. He heard a familiar voice in the distance, “wake up Aidan, get up!”, and what sounded like laughter.
The jungle faded away and he sat up, shook his head and opened his eyes. He was laying supine next to his desk in the middle of a philosophy lecture and his best friend Leo was nervously tapping the side of his head with his foot. He was so deep in his dream that he fell out of his desk on to the floor only to wake up to a room full of snickering students, a glaring instructor, and the disappointment that he was still here in Plymouth rather than escaping from rogue tigers.
The teacher rattled on about Plato and ancient Greece while Sam continued to day dream from his favorite seat. He sat in the same place in the front row of the classroom every day; obviously not to impress his teachers. From there he could watch boats sailing in and out of port all day long, loading and unloading their cargo. He would contemplate where they had been and what exotic adventures they had undertaken in order to obtain and transport their precious goods; wishing he could trade his soft pale skin for their swarthy complexion and manly sea worthy build.
Aidan listened to the pouring rain as he contemplated his escape from the cool dark cave which now contained one sixteen year-old boy and three wet tigers. The air was dense and humid and the rain outside seemed distant as an eerie silence crept throughout the cave. His senses were heightened, his eyes and ears probed the darkness for a way out. All of a sudden the rain stopped and the moon came out, Aidan could see outside the cave for the first time in what seemed like ages. Near the front of the cave were three wet sleeping tigers; one midsized cub, his large protective mother and closest to the mouth of the cave was the massive male king of this jungle. Aidan could just make out the tips of each tiger’s enormous fangs protruding from the corners of their mouths as they slept, and with each breath he took; the moon cast shadows of the king’s great ribs across his smooth striped coat—he looked hungry. His paws were the size of Aidan’s whole head and he couldn’t help but imagine the claws that were retracted within.
Aidan’s mind raced as he planned his escape, but his hand was steady and he wasn’t scared. Twelve feet of dirt floor and three tigers was all that stood between him and the jungle and he was ready to go. So he grabbed his machete, cracked his bare toes against the dirt floor and took off! He took four swift bounding steps, leapt up toward the cave wall, pushed off of it with his right foot, nimble like a cat, and was over the tigers in an instant. He landed on his right foot outside the cave in a cold puddle that splashed muddy water over the king’s back and took off running into the wilderness chopping the thick brush with his machete as he went.
He could hear the tiger running after him as he went so he picked up the pace, now running faster than he even imagined he could. CRACK! He ran head first into a low hanging branch. The tiger caught up to him and he knew his life was about to end. His whole life flashed before his eyes. However, rather than ripping him apart with his massive fangs and claws, the tiger began batting him gently on the side of the head. He heard a familiar voice in the distance, “wake up Aidan, get up!”, and what sounded like laughter.
The jungle faded away and he sat up, shook his head and opened his eyes. He was laying supine next to his desk in the middle of a philosophy lecture and his best friend Leo was nervously tapping the side of his head with his foot. He was so deep in his dream that he fell out of his desk on to the floor only to wake up to a room full of snickering students, a glaring instructor, and the disappointment that he was still here in Plymouth rather than escaping from rogue tigers.
The teacher rattled on about Plato and ancient Greece while Sam continued to day dream from his favorite seat. He sat in the same place in the front row of the classroom every day; obviously not to impress his teachers. From there he could watch boats sailing in and out of port all day long, loading and unloading their cargo. He would contemplate where they had been and what exotic adventures they had undertaken in order to obtain and transport their precious goods; wishing he could trade his soft pale skin for their swarthy complexion and manly sea worthy build.
“Aidan, are you familiar with Plato’s Cardinal Virtues?” Mr. Holden, his teacher, interrupted his thoughts and stood over him with a smug look on his face awaiting his response.
“Well yes, of course I am,” replied Aidan somewhat sarcastically.
“Well would you care to inform the class what it is Plato spent his life teaching about? What was so important that we continue to read and learn it here some 2,100 years later?”
“Ok sir,” he paused as if he was in deep thought even though he knew the answer. “Plato discussed wisdom, justice, moderation, and courage.” He had read most of Plato’s work in his father’s print shop but didn’t care to discuss it with whom he considered a narrow minded arrogant professor.
“Well as a matter of fact that’s exactly right, Aidan,” cracked his professor, but before he even finished his sentence Aidan was already lost deep in thought.
Despite all his day dreaming and dozing off, Aidan somehow managed to remain a fairly good student. Math and science were never a problem for him. He had little esteem for his teacher’s opinions, but growing up as the son of a printer, he actually enjoyed reading about philosophy and history on his own. He was entertained by the idea of learning foreign languages, Latin and Spanish were second nature to him.
Before he knew it the lecture ended and the students gathered their belongings and took to the streets of Plymouth. Most would go home to their families to study and help around the house, others would go to the park to play cricket. Aidan and Leo spent most afternoons in the sailor’s pub.
“Mr. Holden really has it out for you doesn’t he, what did you do to him?” said Leo as they headed down the cobblestone street towards the wharf.
“I dunno, that guy is a real arse. I can’t stand those dim witted teachers and I can’t wait for school to be out. I still haven’t told my dad that I’m not going to work in the print shop, he’s gonna have a serious fit,” Said Aidan.
“I hope I’m not around these parts when he finds out. He’s going to be a mess when he finds out his smart son is taking off and leaving the family business to your twitty brother,”
“Oh come on Leo, Jeremiah isn’t so bad he’s just young that’s all,” said Aidan.
“Of course we can’t all be as smart as the great Aidan Sellick. Boy genius determined to boil his brain away in the hot sun on the high seas,” Leo swung open the door to the pub and bowed to let Aidan pass by,” after you Cap’n Sellick,” he mocked.
Aidan gave him a good solid slug in the shoulder as he walked by but Leo was so strong and sturdy he didn’t even shift. The two boys had been best friends since the dawn of time. They lived on the same block for seventeen years and did all their schooling together. They were a perfect match. Leo was by no means unintelligent, but he paled in comparison to Aidan who had always helped him get by when Leo’s efforts were less than adequate. He was smart, but Aidan was never any physical match for boys his age. Most of the men in his family were fairly large and burly, but for some reason he was always the scrawniest boy in his class which seemed to make him the target of a lot of adolescent anger. His size and strength never left him at a disadvantage though, Leo enjoyed a good roughhousing and was always at Aidan’s back if anyone ever bullied or tried to push him around.
They sat down at a table towards the back of the dark bar which was empty, with the exception of the bar maid, and an old deaf man who spent most of his time sitting in the corner rambling over a pint of beer about a big fish he caught once back in the day.
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