An Heroic Rescue

Sweating Bullets over the chasm

At a celebration, an heroic rescue is being recounted. Everyone is congratulating me, because I plotted the trajectory for this near-impossible feat.  As if in a flashback, we see the rescuer himself, perhaps the King, sweating nervously on a bed of precious stones, big diamonds and arrowheads, suspended in a box like a simple open coffin, prior to making the long, swinging pass through the deep, watery chasm to snatch the princess off the monster’s boat.  His success is guaranteed, so long as he can physically hang on and perform the deed, because I have plotted the trajectory, length of rope, etc, with precision.  It is, however, a very long rope and a very deep chasm, and the rescuer is mighty nervous. (The flashback ends)

The deed is accomplished, though, and now it is being celebrated and retold. In the centerpiece of the celebration, a double-ended spear or pike, very sharp, swings through the space at the end of a long rope, cutting a precisely-shaped piece of turf from the big lawn. I walk over and pick it up, then hold it up for everyone to see: It is the symbol of infinity, a sideways figure eight, rendered in precision-cut turf, done in one swipe of the spearpoint, as the spear swung by.  The crowd cheers the precision of my design. I almost allow the moment to go to my head, when I realize that credit is due to others in this moment, and not only myself. I point out the weapons-maker and call for a cheer. I try to extend both arms in an expansive gesture, but can only raise my right arm.  The left one won’t come up.  The hero himself seems almost forgotten at this point.

Then, it seems the monster might have shown up at the party, and I duck behind a post. There is an ominous silhouette, but it’s unclear if it’s the monster.