Lovers of Babel

by Valerie Walker

  “Um, my favorite animal is the polar bear,” she said fidgeting with her fingers.

  The class was waiting patiently for her transformation. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence she finally started transforming. Her raven head morphed into a huge polar bear head and the class gasped. Then her arms and legs transformed. In a matter of minutes Mia had transformed her whole body into a polar bear three times her size. Some students clapped apprehensively and others were too afraid to move. The bear looked around the room then stood up on its hind legs and roared. This made everyone freeze. Mrs. Mertle, our mousey teacher, immediately walked over to the bear and told Mia to transform back into herself. Then as soon as she said it, Mia’s head appeared, followed by her arms and legs. The entire class was in awe and Mrs. Mertle patted her on the head for a job well done. I gave Mia a proud high-five when she returned to her seat.

  It was time for the creators to be tested next. Our test involved animals too, but it was a slightly different challenge. Before classes began, Mrs. Mertle sent out a letter to all elementary creators to bring their animal collars to class. I still wasn’t sure why I needed it, but I brought it with me as requested. When we received our testing instructions I remembered what the tour guide said to me: There is no need for pet stores when you have this, and she pointed to my head.

  Mrs. Mertle approached the podium and placed her polished fingers over the front.

  “Creators, your challenge is to make your favorite pet using only your imaginations. Your task will be slightly more involved than the transformers because your pet will live with you all throughout your first year. You will need to train it so that it becomes a tamed animal. Once we reach the year’s end we will determine your pet’s progress and grade you accordingly. Now, the first one to present is Sage Riley,” Mrs. Mertle said.

  I perked up from my seat and hesitated a bit. Mrs. Mertle gestured for me to come. I practically tip-toed to the front of the room and it dawned on me that I had only used my power one time when we were touring New California for my father’s meetings with various city officials. I was three at the time and my parents and I had just gotten out of the limo. We had begun to walk on the sidewalk toward the next meeting place when a man behind us started yelling obscenities at my father. He was calling him a fraud and saying that he cares nothing about the citizens’ lives. He said he was power hungry and got to the top through covert means. We continued to walk but increased our pace trying our best to ignore the man, but he kept following us. Suddenly, the man lunged at my father and I remember feeling afraid of what he might do. My father didn’t hire any guards to protect us that day, because there was no reason to fear an attack. My mother pulled me away from the struggling man and tried her best to pry the man’s arms off from around my father’s neck. The man retaliated by slapping my mother to the ground with brute force while his other arm still strangled my father. This man was a beast and I was helpless to defeat it. Panic set in inside my little brain and I searched my mind on what to do. The terror became too much and I closed my eyes.

  Suddenly, I heard the man recoil and wince in pain. I opened my eyes to see the man being hung from his neck by a chain suspended in midair. My parents were able to call the Authorities to send him to prison. I hadn’t used my powers ever since.

  As I stood in front of the classroom all eyes were on me and I knew I had to do well. I searched my imagination for an animal that I liked and remembered one that always fascinated me.

  “My favorite animal is the chameleon,” I declare to the class.

  The students were looking at each other confused.

  “Class, the chameleon is a member of the reptile species. You will learn about the animal kingdom later on in your schooling. Go on Sage,” Mrs. Mertle said.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Then I felt something drop on my head. It was wiggling around and burrowing itself in my hair. The class erupted in a fit of laughter. The chameleon was making its way down my face when I grabbed it. I was so proud of my creation that I raised it to the ceiling in triumph, but the chameleon was so slick and small that it burst through my tiny firsts and flew across the room onto one of the student’s desks. The class was in a riot jumping around trying to get a better look at the lizard. When a student would try to grab him he would dodge them and plop onto another desk. Mrs. Mertle was trying to control the chaos that was happening, but when she started to yell at us, the chameleon made a grand leap through the air and into her mouth. She clawed at her mouth doubled over trying to get the lizard out. The students were in hysterics. Mrs. Mertle looked at me wide eyed, mouth full, and inaudibly demanded that I, “oo omething!” I hadn’t a clue what to do with my creation. The only thing I could think of was to demand it to come out of her mouth.

  “Hey, get out of there!” I yelled at the chameleon and it immediately shot through her mouth and back into my hair.

  Mrs. Mertle propped her frail body up on her podium trying to catch her breath.

  “That thing is out of control! You will need to work very hard to tame that creature!” she exclaimed breathlessly. I placed the collar around his neck and walked back to my desk.

  That night I gave my reptile friend the name Ralph. Throughout my elementary years Ralph was the most entertaining part of living in a boarding school. My friends and I would play with him all day getting him to camouflage into whatever environment we put him in. When I lost Ralph a few weeks after my tenth birthday I thought that nothing would ever come close to what Ralph did for my life. I was wrong.

  In sixth grade we were introduced to the Power Games. The purpose of the games was to showcase our abilities and compete with our classmates in different challenging competitions. By the time students could compete in the games, they were well trained in their power grade and had developed a style of their own. The tournaments were held in a glass dome called the Tourney that was located on the west side of campus next to the classrooms. The inside of the Tourney was less extravagant than the rest of the school’s interior décor. There was no flooring, just a well-manicured lawn that was painted in the middle with the symbols of each power. The audience was seated on wooden bleachers that circled the entire dome. They were separated by power grade.

  When I was first allowed to enter the Tourney, I immediately understood why the elementary students were forbidden to participate in the Power Games. The audience was fierce and rowdy. Some audience members used noisy medieval instruments and objects to clash together forming a chaotic raucous that nearly shattered the glass dome. The Tourney was similar to the way the original Olympic Games looked, where the crowd cheered in anticipation for bloodshed.

  Some people painted symbols on their faces that represented their particular power grade:

  First was the symbol for creators; Earth.

  Next was the symbol for teleporters; air.

  And last was the symbol for transformers; water.

  The competitors stood on the lawn in front of the audience wearing white one-piece lycra suits with their symbol stitched over their hearts. Since this was our first time in the Tourney, we were allowed only to observe the competition from a section reserved for junior high students. The tournaments went on only twice a year with the first semester reserved for junior high competitors and the second semester for high school competitors. Once we sat in on our first two tournaments, we could begin our training for the Tourney. The competitors were chosen at random, so they say, and it was always a privilege to compete in front of the entire school.

  On my first day at the Tourney, the bleachers were filled with hundreds of students and teachers. There were six players in all, two from each power grade, and they stood paired in teams on separate sides of the dome. The teams were chosen by age and each member possessed a different power. The games were different for each power grade, but all would observe the competitions and wait for their turn. The games were as follows:

  Mimicry was for transformers. The nature of the game was sim
ple: kids would compete with each other to see who could transform the fastest into whatever person or animal announced by the Herald.

  The game of hexes was for creators. Gamers would try to invoke whatever the Herald called out to see who could create the object the fastest and most accurately.

  Quicktrek was for teleporters. Competitors would have to teleport to different areas in the school to find a hidden object that the Herald called out. Whichever contestant could find the object the fastest and teleport back to the Tourney in time would win.

  Each of these games would get more challenging as the children grew up. The senior students had to compete in the most dangerous competitions, which is why the second semester games were the most popular to attend.

  There were anthems being played by a band before the tournaments started. As I sat in silent anticipation for the games to begin, I looked at each competitor to see who would be harder to defeat. To the right stood a short red-headed boy with a water symbol on his chest who looked to be about fifteen. He was fidgeting with his hands. He didn’t appear to have any hope in winning. A few hundred feet away from him on the far side of the dome I noticed a tall blonde boy who looked to be thirteen. Later I found out his name was Chad.

  Although Chad was quite thin and lanky, he stood full of confidence and I concluded that he would be fun to watch. The last pair of competitors looked to be about fifteen which meant that they had plenty of practice and a couple more years of experience competing in the Tourney. Therefore, they were cocky and not in the least bit nervous. The pair included a guy with an air symbol who looked to be no more than six feet tall with muscles that didn’t belong on a fifteen year old and a girl with an earth symbol and big hair like brown cotton who had the meanest look on her face.

  The competition always started with Hexes. The mean cotton-haired girl would be up against another girl who was Chad’s partner and whose glasses took up most of her face. It appeared to be an unfair pairing, but this was the nature of the Tourney. No matter the strength and stature of an opponent, it was the strength of one’s particular power that made all the difference.

  The Herald, the Tourney’s eccentric announcer, was adorned in a large top hat with a blue feather and an ancient faded tailcoat. He was ridiculously outrageous; the ultimate symbol of what went on inside the Tourney . He pulled out a large horn and began his blaring announcement from his metal throne overlooking the entire glass arena.

  “Ladies, gentlemen, boys and girls welcome to the sixteenth semi-annual Tourney competition! As the Tourney’s Herald, it is my pleasure to introduce this semester’s competitors in order from eldest to youngest. To my left we have Esmeralda Torres, a transformer, who is of the ripe age of thirteen. Her partner, Chad Pilgrim is the same age, but older by just a few months. Chad will be the youngest teleporter to ever compete for the Power Society!”

  The crowd cheered at that stunning revelation.

  “Next, we have Raven Sissero, a creator, who is fourteen, but don’t let her geeky appearance fool you. I hear she is a fierce creator. Her partner is Alex Walker, a transformer, who I suspect will give Esmeralda a run for her money. After all, he is a year older than she with much more experience.”

  Boo’s permeated throughout the crowd. The audience liked to root for the underdog.

  “But, we’ve seen miracles happen here before, let’s not forget. Last, but not least, we have our eldest competitors. George Costello, a teleporter, will be up against Chad in a nail-biting game of Quicktrek. Emily Francis, a creator, will start the games with Hexing and judging from her performance last year this shall be an entertaining tournament!”

  The crowd obviously loved Emily, despite her intimidating death stare.

  “George and Emily are fifteen and have had several years to perfect their powers. Those of you who are unlucky enough to compete against them will go down in Tourney history if you win.”

  The Herald nodded at Chad and Raven who didn’t appear to be phased by their experienced competitors.

  “Everyone should remember that this is just a game. Although, if you win, your face will go on the Wall of Champions in our dining hall and you will get to sit on the thrown during meal time for an entire year.”

  The crowd clapped and howled in the anticipation of seeing their new champion. The reason why most audience members were so invested in the games was because of betting. Even though gambling was strictly forbidden in power school, there were secret betting stations in certain dormitories where students and teachers alike could place their bets for who might win. This is what made the Tourney so exciting and yet, so barbaric.

  “Let us not forget to mention the privileges and responsibilities that come with being a champion. The power council may choose the winners for their most important quests, giving the champions an opportunity to use their powers to help the Power Society and to become heroes! Now, there will be three winners in all, one for each power grade, and if a complete pair happens to win, their entire grade gets to sit front row at the next Tourney and will be upgraded to heads of the school. Their classmates will be very proud.” The Herald stood up and placed his horn to his puckered lips.

  “Please be vigilant contestants. This is the Tourney, the most important event in all of the power schools and we take it very seriously. Give us a show, but most of all enjoy yourselves,” he said with a hint of sarcasm and plopped back down in his seat.

  “Now, to start the competition with a game of Hexes, will Emily and Raven walk to the center of the arena, please?”

  The audience silently examined both girls as they walked to the center. Emily walked with discipline and her hands stayed clinched in fists. Raven walked with less confidence and couldn’t help looking up and around her at the hundreds staring down at her and her opponent. They met in the middle and stood facing each other. The Herald continued.

  “Your challenge will be to create a dangerous animal of which none of you have seen in real life. This challenge comes to you from one of our dearest sponsors all the way from what used to be a place called Trinadad. Mr. Mustafi, please stand so the crowd can see you.”

  In the center of the crowd stood a dark man with a strange looking wrap around his head with a golden medallion in the center. He waved at the audience, bowed, and then sat down again.

  “Mr. Mustafi told me that he would love to see a real anaconda in person.”

  The audience gasped.

  “Snakes as well as most reptiles were not able to survive the equinox many decades ago, and snakes that live now are only in our imaginations. But not today folks! Today we will witness the vicious nature of this reptile with our own eyes. Raven and Emily, as soon as the trumpet sounds, will conjure up for us two mighty anacondas and whosever snake kills the other one will win!”

  This was the first time in a junior high Tourney that the competitors would have to create something that would in turn, compete itself. This was an extra challenge, because it was difficult enough to create a living animal. Then, to be forced to create an animal that is able to defend itself using instincts, is extremely difficult for a rookie. Both girls looked nervous about the added challenge.

  The sky was overcast that day and the aurora was dull reflecting bits of pink, purple and blue lights all around the glass dome. This gave the effect that we were being enclosed by a ball of celestial light and the two competitors were at the center.

  The Herald brought his horn to his mouth once more.

  “Now that you have your instructions you will begin once the trumpet is finished sounding. Are you ready!?” He waited for the girls to respond.

  They each nodded without looking up at the Herald keeping their concentration.

  “Alright!” The Herald signaled to the trumpet player who was sitting high in the stands on the opposite end of the arena.

  The trumpet sounded high pitched and soft then gradually got louder until it stopped.

  Emily quickly held out her hands in front of her and closed her ey
es tightly, straining to create a giant snake out of nowhere. Then, Raven sprinted towards the west side of the Tourney near the exit. The audience gasped at her cowardice, but she was not trying to escape. There, near the west exit doors, was a stick lying on the lawn. She picked it up and ran back to the center where Emily was making small improvements on her creation. Emily had the tail end of a snake, but it was taking a while for the whole body to appear.

  Raven sat the stick down in front of her and began to concentrate on it. The audience was in a state of frenzy. Never had a contestant attempted to create an animal from an inanimate object. It was always said that creators couldn’t manipulate objects or animals that already existed. They could only create authentically. What Raven was attempting not only defied the laws of hexing, but threatened to break the rules of the Tourney. Still, she continued to concentrate on the stick and even dropped to her knees to get closer to it. Suddenly, the stick began to move. The audience was stunned. I looked up and noticed the Herald shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  Emily was so distracted by what Raven was doing that her own creation was failing her. She managed to create a lime green snake, but it was small and thin. The audience of Emily’s peers who were sitting in the front row was cheering her on. She focused her concentration again. Her snake began to grow heavier in her arms and eventually she let it fall to the ground. Raven’s snake had also grown and its skin looked like wood. Eventually, their snakes had grown twenty five feet and were coiled in their own bodies.