by Philip Wylie
IV
Days, months, years. They had forgotten that Hugo was different. Almost,for a while, he had forgotten it himself. He was popular in school. Hefostered the unexpressed theory that his strength had been a phenomenonof his childhood--one that diminished as he grew older. Then, at ten, itcalled to him for exercise.
Each day he rose with a feeling of insufficiency. Each night he retiredunrequited. He read. Poe, the Bible, Scott, Thackeray, Swift, Defoe--allthe books he could find. He thrilled with every syllable of adventure.His imagination swelled. But that was not sufficient. He yearned as aNew England boy yearns before he runs away to sea.
At ten he was a stalwart and handsome lad. His brow was high andsurmounted by his peculiarly black hair. His eyes were wide apart, inky,unfathomable. He carried himself with the grace of an athlete. Hestudied hard and he worked hard for his parents, taking care of a cowand chickens, of a stable and a large lawn, of flowers and a vegetablegarden.
Then one day he went by himself to walk in the mountains. He had notbeen allowed to go into the mountains alone. A _Wanderlust_ that camehalf from himself and half from his books led his feet along a narrow,leafy trail into the forest depths. Hugo lay down and listened to thebirds in the bushes, to the music of a brook, and to the sound of thewind. He wanted to be free and brave and great. By and by he stood upand walked again.
An easy exhilaration filled his veins. His pace increased. "I wonder,"he thought, "how fast I can run, how far I can jump." He quickened hisstride. In a moment he found that the turns in the trail were toofrequent for him to see his course. He ran ahead, realizing that he wasmoving at an abnormal pace. Then he turned, gathered himself, and jumpedcarefully. He was astonished when he vaulted above the green covering ofthe trail. He came down heavily. He stood in his tracks, tingling.
"Nobody can do that, not even an acrobat," he whispered. Again he tried,jumping straight up. He rose fully forty feet in the air.
"Good Jesus!" he exulted. In those lonely, incredible moments Hugo foundhimself. There in the forest, beyond the eye of man, he learned that hewas superhuman. It was a rapturous discovery. He knew at that hour thathis strength was not a curse. He had inklings of his invulnerability.
He ran. He shot up the steep trail like an express train, at a rate thatwould have been measured in miles to the hour rather than yards to theminute. Tireless blood poured through his veins. Green streaked at hissides. In a short time he came to the end of the trail. He plunged on,careless of obstacles that would have stopped an ordinary mortal. Fromtrunk to trunk he leaped a burned stretch. He flung himself from a highrock. He sped like a shadow across a pine-carpeted knoll. He gained thebare rocks of the first mountain, and in the open, where the horror ofno eye would tether his strength, he moved in flying bounds to itssummit.
Hugo stood there, panting. Below him was the world. A little world. Helaughed. His dreams had been broken open. His depression was relieved.But he would never let them know--he, Hugo, the giant. Except, perhaps,his father. He lifted his arms--to thank God, to jeer at the world. Hugowas happy.
He went home wondering. He was very hungry--hungrier than he had everbeen--and his parents watched him eat with hidden glances. Samson hadeaten thus, as if his stomach were bottomless and his food digestedinstantly to make room for more. And, as he ate, Hugo tried to open aconversation that would lead to a confession to his father. But itseemed impossible.
Hugo liked his father. He saw how his mother dominated the littleprofessor, how she seemed to have crushed and bewildered him until hismind was unfocused from its present. He could not love his motherbecause of that. He did not reason that her religion had made her blindand selfish, but he felt her blindness and the many cloaks thatprotected her and her interests. He held her in respect and he obeyedher. But often and wistfully he had tried to talk to his father, to makefriends with him, to make himself felt as a person.
Abednego Danner's mind was buried in the work he had done. His son was aforeign person for whom he felt a perplexed sympathy. It is significantthat he had never talked to Hugo about Hugo's prowess. The ten-year-oldboy had not wished to discuss it. Now, however, realizing its extent, hefelt he must go to his father. After dinner he said: "Dad, let's you andme take a walk."
Mrs. Danner's protective impulses functioned automatically. "Notto-night. I won't have it."
"But, mother--"
Danner guessed the reason for that walk. He said to his wife with rarefirmness: "If the boy wants to walk with me, we're going."
After supper they went out. Mrs. Danner felt that she had been shut outof her own son's world. And she realized that he was growing up.
Danner and his son strolled along the leafy street. They talked abouthis work in school. His father seemed to Hugo more human than he hadever been. He even ventured the first step toward other conversation."Well, son, what is it?"
Hugo caught his breath. "Well--I kind of thought I ought to tell you.You see--this afternoon--well--you know I've always been a sort ofstrong kid--"
Danner trembled. "I know--"
"And you haven't said much about it to me. Except to be gentle--"
"That's so. You must remember it."
"Well--I don't have to be gentle with myself, do I? When I'm alone--likein the woods, that is?"
The older one pondered. "You mean--you like to--ah--let yourselfout--when you're alone?"
"That's what I mean." The usual constraint between them had receded.Hugo was grateful for his father's help. "You see, dad, I--well--I wentwalkin' to-day--and I--I kind of tried myself out."
Danner answered in breathless eagerness: "And?"
"Well--I'm not just a strong kid, dad. I don't know what's the matterwith me. It seems I'm not like other kids at all. I guess it's beengettin' worse all these years since I was a baby."
"Worse?"
"I mean--I been gettin' stronger. An' now it seems like I'mabout--well--I don't like to boast--but it seems like I'm about thestrongest man in the world. When I try it, it seems like there isn't anystopping me. I can go on--far as I like. Runnin'. Jumpin'." Hisconfession had commenced in detail. Hugo warmed to it. "I can do things,dad. It kind of scares me. I can jump higher'n a house. I can runfaster'n a train. I can pull up big trees an' push 'em over."
"I see." Danner's spine tingled. He worshipped his son then. "Supposeyou show me."
Hugo looked up and down the street. There was no one in sight. Theevening was still duskily lighted by afterglow. "Look out then. I'mgonna jump."
Mr. Danner saw his son crouch. But he jumped so quickly that hevanished. Four seconds elapsed. He landed where he had stood. "See,dad?"
"Do it again."
On the second trial the professor's eyes followed the soaring form. Andhe realized the magnitude of the thing he had wrought.
"Did you see me?"
Danner nodded. "I saw you, son."
"Kind of funny, isn't it?"
"Let's talk some more." There was a pause. "Do you realize, son, that noone else on earth can do what you just did?"
"Yeah. I guess not."
Danner hesitated. "It's a glorious thing. And dangerous."
"Yeah."
The professor tried to simplify the biology of his discovery. Heperceived that it was going to involve him in the mysteries of sex. Heknew that to unfold them to a child was considered immoral. But Dannerwas far, far beyond his epoch. He put his hand on Hugo's shoulder. AndHugo set off the process.
"Dad, how come I'm--like this?"
"I'll tell you. It's a long story and a lot for a boy your age to know.First, what do you know about--well--about how you were born?"
Hugo reddened. "I--I guess I know quite a bit. The kids in school arealways talkin' about it. And I've read some. We're born like--well--likethe kittens were born last year."
"That's right." Banner knitted his brow. He began to explain the detailsof conception as it occurs in man--the biology of ova and spermatazoa,the differences between the anatomy of the sexes, and the reasons for
those differences. He drew, first, a botanical analogy. Hugo listenedintently. "I knew most of that. I've seen--girls."
"What?"
"Some of them--after school--let you."
Danner was surprised, and at the same time he was amused. He hadforgotten the details of his young investigation. They are blotted outof the minds of most adults--to the great advantage of dignity. He didnot show his amusement or his surprise.
"Girls like that," he answered, "aren't very nice. They haven't muchmodesty. It's rather indecent, because sex is a personal thing andsomething you ought to keep for the one you're very fond of. You'llunderstand that better when you're older. But what I was going to tellyou is this. When you were little more than a mass of plasm inside yourmother, I put a medicine in her blood that I had discovered. I did itwith a hypodermic needle. That medicine changed you. It altered thestructure of your bones and muscles and nerves and your blood. It madeyou into a different tissue from the weak fibre of ordinary people.Then--when you were born--you were strong. Did you ever watch an antcarry many times its weight? Or see a grasshopper jump fifty times itslength? The insects have better muscles and nerves than we have. And Iimproved your body till it was relatively that strong. Can youunderstand that?"
"Sure. I'm like a man made out of iron instead of meat."
"That's it, Hugo. And, as you grow up, you've got to remember that.You're not an ordinary human being. When people find that out,they'll--they'll--"
"They'll hate me?"
"Because they fear you. So you see, you've got to be good and kind andconsiderate--to justify all that strength. Some day you'll find a usefor it--a big, noble use--and then you can make it work and be proud ofit. Until that day, you have to be humble like all the rest of us. Youmustn't show off or do cheap tricks. Then you'd just be a clown. Waityour time, son, and you'll be glad of it. And--another thing--train yourtemper. You must never lose it. You can see what would happen if youdid? Understand?"
"I guess I do. It's hard work--doin' all that."
"The stronger, the greater, you are, the harder life is for you. Andyou're the strongest of them all, Hugo."
The heart of the ten-year-old boy burned and vibrated. "And what aboutGod?" he asked.
Danner looked into the darkened sky. "I don't know much about Him," hesighed.
Such was the soundest counsel that Hugo was given during his youth.Because it came to him accompanied by unadulterated truths that he wasable to recognize, it exerted a profound effect on him. It is surprisingthat his father was the one to give it. Nevertheless, Professor Dannerwas the only person in all of Indian Creek who had sufficientimagination to perceive his son's problems and to reckon with them inany practical sense.
Hugo was eighteen before he gave any other indication of his strengthsave in that fantastic and Gargantuan play which he permitted himself.Even his play was intruded upon by the small-minded and curious worldbefore he had found the completeness of its pleasure. Then Hugo fellinto his coma.
Hugo went back to the deep forest to think things over and to becomeacquainted with his powers. At first, under full pressure of his sinews,he was clumsy and inaccurate. He learned deftness by trial and error.One day he found a huge pit in the tangled wilderness. It had been anopen mine long years before. Sitting on its brink, staring into its poolof verdure, dreaming, he conceived a manner of entertainment suitablefor his powers.
He jumped over its craggy edge and walked to its centre. There heselected a high place, and with his hands he cleared away the growththat covered it. Next he laid the foundations of a fort, over which hewas to watch the fastnesses for imaginary enemies. The foundations weremade of boulders. Some he carried and some he rolled from the floor ofthe man-made canyon. By the end of the afternoon he had laid out asquare wall of rock some three feet in height. On the next day he addedto it until the four walls reached as high as he could stretch. He leftspace for one door and he made a single window. He roofed the walls withthe trunks of trees and he erected a turret over the door.
For days the creation was his delight. After school he sped to it. Untildark he strained and struggled with bare rocks. When it was finished, itwas an edifice that would have withstood artillery fire creditably. ThenHugo experimented with catapults, but he found no engine that could hurlthe rocks he used for ammunition as far as his arms. He cached histreasures in his fortress--an old axe, the scabbard of a sword, tops andmarbles, two cans of beans for emergency rations--and he made a flag ofblue and white cloth for himself.
Then he played in it. He pretended that Indians were stalking him. Animaginary head would appear at the rim of the pit. Hugo would see itthrough a chink. Swish! Crash! A puff of dust would show where rock metrock--with the attacker's head between. At times he would be stormed onall sides. To get the effect he would leap the canyon and hurl boulderson his own fort. Then he would return and defend it.
It was after such a strenuous sally and while he was waiting in highexcitement for the enemy to reappear that Professors Whitaker and Smithfrom the college stumbled on his stronghold. They were walking togetherthrough the forest, bent on scaling the mountain to make certainobservations of an ancient cirque that was formed by the seventh greatglacier. As they walked, they debated matters of strata curvature.Suddenly Whitaker gripped Smith's arm. "Look!"
They stared through the trees and over the lip of Hugo's mine. Theireyes bulged as they observed the size and weight of the fortress.
"Moonshiners," Smith whispered.
"Rubbish. Moonshiners don't build like that. It's a second Stonehenge.An Indian relic."
"But there's a sign of fresh work around it."
Whitaker observed the newly turned earth and the freshly bared rock."Perhaps--perhaps, professor, we've fallen upon something big. A lostrace of Indian engineers. A branch of the Incas--or--"
"Maybe they'll be hostile."
The men edged forward. And at the moment they reached the edge of thepit, Hugo emerged from his fort. He saw the men with sudden fear. Hetried to hide.
"Hey!" they said. He did not move, but he heard them scrambling slowlytoward the spot where he lay.
"Dressed in civilized clothes," the first professor said in a loud voiceas his eye located Hugo in the underbrush. "Hey!"
Hugo showed himself. "What?"
"Who are you?"
"Hugo Danner."
"Oh--old Danner's boy, eh?"
Hugo did not like the tone in which they referred to his father. He madeno reply.
"Can you tell us anything about these ruins?"
"What ruins?"
They pointed to his fort. Hugo was hurt. "Those aren't ruins. I builtthat fort. It's to fight Indians in."
The pair ignored his answer and started toward the fort. Hugo did notprotest. They surveyed its weighty walls and its relatively new roof.
"Looks recent," Smith said.
"This child has evidently renovated it. But it must have stood here forthousands of years."
"It didn't. I made it--mostly last week."
They noticed him again. Whitaker simpered. "Don't lie, young man."
Hugo was sad. "I'm not lying. I made it. You see--I'm strong." It was asif he had pronounced his own damnation.
"Tut, tut." Smith interrupted his survey. "Did you find it?"
"I built it."
"I said"--the professor spoke with increasing annoyance--"I said not totell me stories any longer. It's important, young man, that we know justhow you found this dolmen and in what condition."
"It isn't a dolly--whatever you said--it's a fort and I built it and I'mnot lying."
The professor, in the interests of science, made a grave mistake. Heseized Hugo by the arms and shook him. "Now, see here, young man, I'llhave no more of your impertinent lip. Tell me just what you've done toharm this noble monument to another race, or, I swear, I'll slap youproperly." The professor had no children. He tried, at the same time,another tack, which insulted Hugo further. "If you do, I'll give you apenny--to keep."
&nbs
p; Hugo wrenched himself free with an ease that startled Smith. His facewas dark, almost black. He spoke slowly, as if he was trying to piecewords into sense. "You--both of you--you go away from here and leave meor I'll break your two rotten old necks."
Whitaker moved toward him, and Smith interceded. "We better leavehim--and come back later." He was still frightened by the strength inHugo's arms. "The child is mad. He may have hydrophobia. He might bite."The men moved away hastily. Hugo watched them climb the wall. When theyreached the top, he called gently. They wheeled.
And Hugo, sobbing, tears streaming from his face, leaped into his fort.Rocks vomited themselves from it--huge rocks that no man could budge.Walls toppled and crashed. The men began to move. Hugo looked up. Hechose a stone that weighed more than a hundred pounds.
"Hey!" he said. "I'm not a liar!" The rock arched through the air andProfessors Whitaker and Smith escaped death by a scant margin. Hugo layin the wreck of the first thing his hands had built, and wept.
After a little while he sprang to his feet and chased the retreatingprofessors. When he suddenly appeared in front of them, they werestricken dumb. "Don't tell any one about that or about me," he said. "Ifyou do--I'll break down your house just like I broke mine. Don't eventell my family. They know it, anyhow."
He leaped. Toward them--over them. The forest hid him. Whitaker wipedclammy perspiration from his brow. "What was it, Smith?"
"A demon. We can't mention it," he repeated, thinking of the warning."We can't speak of it anyway. They'll never believe us."
