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| Walking With Giants; PG- Mentions of Sexuality | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 24 2008, 03:14 AM (137 Views) | |
| vajbff | Jan 24 2008, 03:14 AM Post #1 |
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Name of Piece: Walking With Giants Copyright/credits to author: Harry, Nick, and Arin Beagan © Victoria Genre: Um... Drama, I suppose. Is the piece finished: As far as I know, unless I feel like adding more. Rating and Reason for rating: PG; there's a scene with mentions of Sexuality. Probably not that bad, but it's better safe than sorry. Would you like your piece reviewed? Yes, please.  Summary of Story: Harry Beagan is far from normal. Can a unique guy like him make it in a constantly judging world, and will he ever be able to overcome the conflicts of the past? Prologue “What do you mean, you don’t know?” “I’m sorry ma’am. We’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s a medical first.” The man put a comforting arm around the crying woman “What about the specialists?” The doctor shook his head. “They’re just as stumped as we are. It’s not any form of dwarfism, nothing related to hormones; they couldn’t even find a virus. He’s just simply stopped growing.” The man finally spoke up. “He just stopped?” “Yes. Mentally, he’s where he should be, but physically he hasn’t grown past the height of the average 2 yr. old. Again, I’m very sorry.” The woman went into hysterics, her face red. “There must be something you can do! Some sort procedure or medicine you can give him! Anything! You can’t just leave him this way!” Sympathy was written all over the doctor’s face. “I’m sorry.” Holding back his own tears, the man held his trembling wife as she sobbed into his chest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry Beagan sighed as he gazed out the car window with his blue eyes. He was with his sister on his way to his new job. He didn’t bother hiding the grimace that clouded his child-like features. The job itself was a good one, but Harry had a strong dislike for kids and working at a school, even a prestigious one like Spencer was not his idea of a fun time, but he needed to do something a little out of the lime-light. What had started out as just a local town phenomenon turned into a national cover story. Harry had become known as the Man Stuck in a Baby’s Body. He and his family were constantly being asked for interviews, the most memorable from Oprah. The fame had brought them streams of money, which they’d used to buy all the items that would help accommodate Harry and his condition. He’d also had surgery done to his vocal cords to augment his voice and make him at least sound like the thirty-two year old he was. Despite the harassment and insults he’d received all throughout his grade school years, Harry went on to college (Harvard) and received a degree in government politics. Shortly after graduating, he ran for governor twice and lost both times. With the encouragement of his sister Arin who had always stood by him and a heads up from his brother Nick who hadn’t, Harry applied for a job at Spencer Preparatory School and, after an interesting interview, got the job. The car came to a stop in the parking lot of the school and Harry smoothed down a soft blonde lock that had slipped out of place. “If I kill one of them, you think they’ll let me off as a minor?” he said smiling. She rolled her eyes, laughing. “You won’t kill anyone and you will enjoy this.” “Right. Being around anyone younger than twenty reminds me of why I’m glad I can’t procreate.” “Get out of the car you grump.” Harry frowned in mock hurt. “Now that’s no way to talk to your older brother.” She looked at him pointedly. “Alright, alright,” he continued. “But if a kid ends up dead, their blood is on your hands.” He smiled at her laughter and slid out of his booster seat. Opening the door, he jumped out and grabbed his various folders from the floor of the car. With a wave to his sister, Harry was off to his new experience. Hopefully his sister would be right and it wouldn’t be as bad as he imagined. Little feet ascended the steps to the school one by one and an equally small hand pushed open the door. Thankfully, it was well oiled. Harry strolled confidently down the hall to the main office. Upon entering, he waved at the secretary and smiled politely. She still seemed a little uncomfortable from their last encounter. She’d mistaken him for a toddler and got the crap scared out of her when he spoke with a deep, if a bit raspy, voice and perfect English. Harry didn’t particularly like being treated like a baby, but he held back his first reaction of berating her and instead just went with the shock factor that he had over people. He stepped into the provost’s office and greeted him with a nod of the head. The rather large man stood from his cherry wood desk with a smile on his face. He came around and shook Harry’s tiny hand. The sight of a man of his girth bending over to greet a seemingly toddler would have been quite humorous had someone been there to see it. “Good morning Mr. Beagan. Again, let me say that we are very pleased to have you on our staff.” “Thank you, sir.” “I take it you’re here for your room key?” “Yes sir.” “Right, right.” He went back behind the desk and pulled out a single key from one of the drawers. He handed it to Harry. “There you are. The students should start arriving within the hour, so you still have some time to prepare. Have a good day, Mr. Beagan.” Harry smiled, his cherubic face dimpling. “I will, sir.” He turned and headed back out the way he’d came, picking up his folders from where he’d left them on a coffee table. He waved good-bye to the secretary who choked on the sip of tea she was taking. Harry toddled down the hall, his little brown dress shoes thudding lightly on the slick wooden floors. Occasionally, he’d pass another faculty member. He’d met many of them, so the shock factor wasn’t as great, but he could still sense their awkwardness around him. He arrived at his room and smiled. As asked, they had left him a stepping stool next to the door. Moving it over, he stood on it and unlocked his classroom. Stepping back down, Harry placed his folders on the stool and pushed it through the door. Upon entering, he looked around; the room was small. He didn’t mind, though. In fact he was glad. The less students, the better. He only had two classes since the course he was teaching, Reflective Writing, wasn’t very popular. Harry could see where the kids were coming from. Being more of a history buff, he wouldn’t want to take the class either. Unfortunately, it was his next best choice since all the history and government classes were taken. It was either this or P.E. Harry scooted the stool over to the rolling office chair that sat behind the large oak desk at the front of the classroom. He put the folders in the chair, climbed up himself with the help of the stool, and then put his folders on the desk. He pushed off the polished edge and the chair went rolling backwards towards the chalkboard. Slowly he guided himself over to the wall where the door was and flicked on the light. Rolling back over to the middle of the board, he grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote out his name in big letters. Dusting off his hands, he pushed back towards the desk and straightened out his folders. Hearing students bustling outside in the hall, Harry smoothed out the invisible wrinkles in his light blue button down shirt and straightened his clip-on tie. The provost had sent out emails to all of his students informing them of Harry’s condition in hopes of alleviating some of the initial tension. It had helped, but he still got funny stares as his students sporadically filed in. He chose not to speak until the tardy bell had rung. He looked around at the various faces that held confused, somewhat scared, and disbelieving expressions. A faint smirk appeared on his lips. “Welcome to Reflective Writing.” About nineteen of the twenty-four students in the class’s eyes popped open in surprise. Harry struggled to hold back a sudden fit of laughter. “I’m Harry Beagan, but you can just call me Mr. Beagan. As you all know, I’m new here to Spenser. Um, I suppose I’ll tell you all a little about myself. I’m thirty-two years old…” A few eyebrows lifted. “… I’m the oldest of three…” Giggles erupted from some of the students. “… I graduated from Harvard with a degree in Political Science, and love politics.” A boy sitting front row center raised his hand. He had messy, long brown hair and more piercings than Harry thought was necessary which didn’t match his school uniform at all. Harry eyed him inquisitively. “Yes, Mr.?” “Brody. Yeah, uh, why are you teaching an English class if you went to college for government stuff?” “It was the best they could give me,” he dead panned. “You serious, man?” “Yes.” Brody shrugged and went back to inspecting his desk. Harry glanced around. “Any other questions?” A short blonde girl off to the right shyly raised her hand. He nodded to her. “Um… are you really thirty-two?” This time he did laugh. The rest of the class joined in nervously. “Yes Miss…” “Allen.” “… Miss. Allen, I am thirty-two. Though I look like a two year old, I have the mind of a full grown adult. I stopped growing physically shortly after my second birthday, but mentally I still matured normally. For those wondering about my voice, I had surgery to alter it. I should sue though. I asked for a British accent and they gave a New York one.” The joke broke the remaining ice and he went on with the lesson for the day, giving them a short writing assignment. The next class went about the same and Harry was pleased that it wasn’t a complete disaster. Well, almost anyway. In his second class he had a bit of a trouble maker, and by a bit he meant a lot. The boy’s name was James Lighter. Standing about six foot two with jet black hair and piercing green eyes, he had taken it upon himself to antagonize Harry to no end. He purposely spoke out of turn and made rude comments specifically aimed at pointing out the fact that he looked like a baby. It got to where even the other students felt he was being a jerk. It was all Harry could do to keep from running over and beating him. Of course that’d probably only give the boy more fuel for the fire, knowing his luck. Not to mention teachers attacking their students was frowned upon. But the day was over and Harry was heading out. His sister was waiting in the parking lot, her baby blue Saturn idling softly. She helped push open the door as he pulled on the handle. Setting his folders on the floor board, he climbed into the booster seat. Arin beamed down at him. “How was your first day of school?” “Ha ha. Very funny.” He glared playfully at her. “Yeah, I thought so too. But seriously, how was it?” He shrugged his small shoulders. “It was alright, I guess. I didn’t kill anyone.” She giggled softly. “I told you, you wouldn’t.” “Yeah, but I came close.” “Oh?” “I got a wise guy in my second class. Thinks he’s all high and mighty ‘cause he has to bend down get through the door. I wanted to smack that smug grin off his face.” “You can send him to the headmaster.” “He’s called a Provost, and I might.” Arin shrugged and drove on. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The next few weeks were spent going over the basics of writing and it was soon time to turn in the first big papers. Harry had the class write about their favorite first. It could be the first time they drove a car, their first tooth if they remembered it, their first Big Mac, anything. He realized after grading them that he should have given them boundaries. Mr. Brody sat slouching at his desk after the class had been dismissed. Harry was sitting on his own desk, his feet dangling off the front edge. “Mr. Brody, I’d like to discuss your paper with you.” “Oh, uh, was something like, wrong with it?” Harry took a breath. “Well… I know you kids are mature young people and that you’ve all experienced, ah, life in many different ways, but the subject matter of your paper was a little inappropriate.” Brody scratched the back of his head, smiling slightly. “Well you did ask us to write about our favorite first.” he shrugged. “That was my favorite.” Harry’s head fell to his hand with a sigh. “Mr. Brody, even if it was your favorite, I didn’t need to know about the first time you had sex.” The boy blushed a bit, then looked down dejectedly. “Oh. So, does this mean I’m getting an ‘F’?” “No actually,” he said, smirking. “Really?” He let out a short chuckle. “Despite what you wrote about, the paper itself was very good. You should think about going into a writing career.” Brody lit up with another smile. “Dude, Seriously? Aw man, thanks Mr. B. That’s cool.” Harry lifted an amused brow. “You’re welcome, Mr. Brody. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Peace out, Mr. B.” The little guy shook his head as the odd student left the room. Kids these days. Harry straightened out his desk and got out the things he needed for the next class. After a quick lunch, the students began to meander in, taking their seats. One girl in particular, Alison Carr, smiled at him shyly and waved as she sat down. The dark haired girl had acted curiously around him since the first day. She didn’t speak often, usually only when spoken to first. Her paper had been about her first time at church camp or something like that. Harry wasn’t quite sure why, but he got a weird vibe every time he was near her. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, as James walked into the room, smug grin in place as always. “Hey Beagan, I think you got some applesauce on your shirt. I could get you a baby wipe.” If stares could kill, the boy would be dead in his tracks. “Do I need to remind you of last week’s adventure in detention, Mr. Lighter?” The tall boy rolled his eyes in response. Harry allowed a slight triumphant smirk to spread on his lips. The bell rang and he waited for the class to settle down. Once he was sure he had their attention, he got down from his chair, which the students had taken to calling his “pedestal,” and began to pass back their papers. Every once in a while he’d give an affirmation or a dissatisfied remark. As he approached Alison, the girl shrunk into her seat a bit and blush rose to her pale cheeks. “Here you go, Miss. Carr. You did very well. I enjoyed reading your paper.” If it were possible, her blush deepened. Harry barely heard her soft thank you. He finished handing the rest of the papers back and toddled back to his seat climbing on it. When he taught he’d stand on the chair, rolling back and forth across the board if necessary, so he’d be on the same level as the rest of the students. He cleared his throat. “Alright. I want to talk to you guys about description. We all know it’s an important part of writing and so far you’ve all done a good job at using it. But I want you to go deeper with it. Describe things with more than just simple words. Make it sound so real you can touch it.” As usual, the class was silent, just staring at him. Harry pointed to a blonde girl sitting in the front row. “Miss. Hartford, describe for me Mr. Chandler.” The girl eyed the slightly pudgy boy next to her. “Um, he’s… fat?” “Hey!” he glared at her. Harry held up his hands before she could throw in another retort. “Okay, that’s not exactly what I was going for. How about this, Mr. Chandler’s eyes are as blue as the ocean.” A kid by the name of Cody made a face. “Uh, no offense Mr. Beagan, but if I write that people will think I’m gay.” The class chuckled. Harry nodded. “That’s alright. You don’t have to use that particular phrase. It’s just an example. So, Miss. Hartford, try again.” She looked at him again. “His hair cut speaks of a gentleman in hiding.” Both Chandler and Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise. The latter smiled approvingly. “Very good.” She giggled lightly and winked at the now blushing boy next to her. Harry looked around again. “Alright, who’s next…” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Back in his sister’s car again, Harry noticed Arin was strangely quiet. “What’s up with you? I usually can’t get you to shut up.” She kept her stare straight forward. “Nick called asking about you today.” Harry’s gaze instantly went to the window, his face a blank mask. He didn’t even acknowledge her statement. She continued. “He wanted to know how everything was going.” He snorted, letting some of the anger in him leak into his features. “What’d you say?” “I told him that you were enjoying your job.” “Was that all?” “What else was I supposed to tell him?” Harry didn’t answer. He shifted in his seat, eyes never leaving the view of the window. He heard her sigh. “Harry, you guys really should talk to each other. He’s your brother. You can’t just shut him out of your life.” He snapped around, fuming. “He shut me out, why shouldn’t I?! So what if he got me a job? One good deed doesn’t just erase a lifetime of bad ones. With what he did to me, I don’t even want to consider him my brother anymore!” Arin frowned. “Don’t say that!” “Why not Arin! He never treated me like a brother! He was always ashamed me! Always embarrassed to say his older brother was the guy who looked like a baby! He was a coward!” She slammed her palms on the steering wheel. “Stop! Just stop! I don’t want to hear it anymore. I’m sick and tired of the stupid bickering between you two. Let’s talk about something else.” “Fine.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest, facing forward again. With his lips pouting, he looked like the classic toddler who hadn’t gotten his way. If it weren’t for the tense moment, it would have been funny. “Did anything interesting happen in your classes today?” “Not really.” he said flatly. Then he shrugged. “Well, actually I think one of my students may have a crush on me.” Arin’s brow furrowed. “What?” “Well, she always acts weird around me. She gets all nervous and jumpy. Heck, I can just glance in her direction and she shrinks into herself.” She glanced at him sideways. “Um, don’t take this wrong way, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like you. At least, not that way.” He looked up at her questioningly. “Why do you say that?” “Don’t get me wrong. You’re a dashing young fellow,” he grinned at this, “But you do look like a two year old. That’s just wrong on so many levels.” Harry let out a sigh of exasperation. “Great. I’m getting flack from both sides now.” Arin just smirked cheekily. “Sorry big bro. That’s just the way it goes.” “Yeah, yeah. Hey, am I still having dinner at your place?” “Unless you changed your mind. Why, is my cooking that bad?” she asked, barely holding back a grin. He on the other hand grinned knowingly. “You and I both know you can put the best chefs to shame. I was just making sure you remembered to make extra. I’m starving.” She laughed. Once at her house, Harry made himself comfortable while she finished up with a few things in the kitchen. He glanced around the very modern living room, taking in its sleek feel. This had to be her husband Brian’s doing. Arin was always more of a homey kind of girl. Though, she seemed to make up for it by having as many pictures around the place as humanly possible without it looking too cluttered. The phone rang and Arin called out from the kitchen. “Could you get that for me? It’s probably Brian.” Harry slid off the leather couch and went over to the phone. He picked it up, staring at a family portrait. “Hello?” “Is Arin there?” His expression switched to one of pure disdain. “Hello Nick. Have you forgot what your own brother’s voice sounds like?” Nick’s apprehension could clearly be heard over the phone. “Harry? What are you… where’s Arin?” Harry rolled his eyes. “She’s busy. Call back later.” He slammed the phone on the receiver just as his sister walked in. She was drying her hands on a towel. “Who was it?” He didn’t answer her, storming off into the dining room. Arin frowned and glanced down at the caller ID. Seeing the name, her frown deepened. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ More time went on, and more papers were turned in. Alison still acted strange around him. Mr. Brody turned in another provocative paper, this one being on the subject of what made them tick. Harry could only shake his head. The kids these days were just too hormonal. They all had one track-minds. Or at least Brody did. Lighter had toned down a bit. He refrained from speaking out in class, but whenever they passed in the hall Harry could hear the rude remarks whispered to his friends as he walked by. One day in particular, the boy got a little braver, speaking up louder than usual, and Harry snapped. “You what Lighter? I’ve had just about enough of your crap. I’ve dealt with punks like you all of my life. Always making fun of me and acting like you were untouchable because you’re bigger. Well, they say that those that constantly make jokes about size are usually compensating for something. So Mr. Lighter,” he looked pointedly at his pants, “Are you trying to over compensate for something that’s a little… lacking… in size?” The boy was flabbergasted. It was one thing for a teacher to say something like that, but for a teacher that looked like Harry did, it made it even more embarrassing. Especially in front of his friends. The other students “oohing” in the hall didn’t help the matter. Harry stood with hands on hips, his sharp blue eyes daring the boy to challenge him. Lighter stammered for a moment before finally squeaking out, “I… have to get to class.” Harry smiled victoriously, straightening his little tie and smoothing out his light green button down shirt. Not even bothering to see everyone else’s reactions, he went on his way as if nothing had happened. Later that day he had a “talk” with the Provost. If wasn’t for his political and debating skills, he’d of probably lost his job. Needless to say, Lighter had earned himself a few days of suspension. The next day he wished he had been fired. He was on break in his classroom, grading some papers when he heard the door open. Looking up, Harry almost dropped his pencil. Standing in the doorway was his brother Nick. They looked exactly alike, both having blonde hair and blue eyes. Their sister had always said if Harry hadn’t stopped growing that people would probably mistake them for twins. Nick closed the door and took a few steps forward, then cleared his throat and glanced down at the floor. “Hey.” For a moment Harry didn’t know what to say. In his mind he was reliving his childhood. He and his brother playing in the yard when he was four flashed by his eyes; they were so happy then. Then their first day of school and having to explain to everyone that he really was older; it was funny at first. But soon, Nick began telling him that he couldn’t play with him and never explained why; that was the third grade. He was avoided throughout middle school; had to overhear him laugh and joke about him with his friends; got bullied in high school as his brother just stood there and watched. By the time he’d pulled himself back to reality, Harry was almost shaking. He all but glared at him with cold eyes, his voice full of malice. “What do you want, Nick?” The taller man shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. “I, um, I just thought I’d stop by. See how you were doing.” Harry tired not to roll his eyes. “Why didn’t you just call Arin? You seem to do that a lot.” Nick winced at the comment. “She told me to stop calling.” The little guy snorted, shaking his head. “Figures. So, since when did you start caring about me?” A pained expression crossed his features. “That’s not fair.” “Not fair?! No Nick, what you did to me, that wasn’t fair. I can’t believe you even showed your face here. You don’t call me for years, hit up our sister for information on me, heck, mom and dad even make it a point not to bring you up. Don’t talk to me about fair.” “Harry look,” he said with a sigh, “I’m sorry. I’ve been… I’ve been a horrible brother. I don’t even deserve the title…” “Got that right.” Harry replied indignantly. “Will you let me finish?” Harry waved him on, crossing his arms. “I was wrong to treat you the way I did. No one should have to be put through that. I shunned my own brother because I was afraid of what people would think.” “What? That you had a freak for a brother?” He looked down in shame. “Harry… I want to make it up to you. No, that’s not right. I want to start over. Start fresh. Put the past behind us. I… I want a chance to be really be your brother.” Harry stared at him for a long while, not quite believing him. Then he said, “Did Arin put you up to this?” Nick actually laughed. “No, and she’s gonna freak when she finds out about it. This has just been eating me up inside. All these years I’ve had to live with this guilt. You can’t imagine the feeling, knowing that you’ve betrayed your brother, turned your back on him. I just can’t take it anymore. I have to make this right.” He didn’t want to believe him. How could one cause someone so much hurt and pain, and then just expect to be forgiven of it all? And yet, even now the walls of anger were breaking down. Slowly, Harry’s features softened and he slid down off of his chair and toddled over to his brother, hugging one of his legs. Nick knelt down, embracing him. “I missed you, little brother,” Harry whispered to him. Nick could only nod as a few tears escaped from the corner of his eyes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The last day had come and, after taking a group picture of each class, Harry had declared it a free day. The room was alive with chatter, everyone talking about what they were going to do for the summer. Harry sat quietly, reading a copy of U.S.A Today. He briefly glanced over his shoulder. On the board, Mr. Brody had drawn a sort of word collage of everything he’d taught them throughout the year. Not only was the boy a good writer, but was also a fairly decent artist. He was with his second class currently. Mr. Lighter was back and they’d come to a tentative truce, neither one making any hostile comments. They stuck mostly to two or three word sentences and nods. Apparently after the description lesson, Mr. Chandler and Miss. Hartford had begun to hang out more. Both were seniors and had been planning on going off to college. Now they were planning a wedding. The bell rang and the class let out a chorus of cheers. Harry smiled and waved to those who said good-bye, then glanced back down at his newspaper. Feeling someone’s eyes on him, he looked back to see Alison standing in front of his desk. Closing the publication, he stood so he could better see her. “May I help you, Miss. Carr?” The girl blushed a little, shifting her eyes around before saying, “I-I just wanted to say thank you.” Harry lifted a curious brow. “Um, you’re welcome. Though I’m not sure why.” Her voice was soft. “Well, you’re a very admirable person. I’ve read the articles on you, and seen some interviews on TV.” She blushed again, smiling bashfully. “I guess you could say I’m a fan. Who you are, what you are, and what you’ve done is very inspiring. You’ve shown me that anything is possible. And… I just wanted to say thank you.” Harry smiled warmly. “Thank you, Miss. Carr. I hope you have a wonderful summer.” She smiled shyly. “Good-bye, Mr. Beagan.” He nodded and she left. Sighing in contentment, he started collecting his stuff. This had been a very interesting year for him. He’d learned a lot, gained a lost brother, and found out that kids for the most part weren’t that bad. They could try your nerves at times, but all in all, they were fun to be around. Maybe teaching wasn’t so bad after all. ***************************** And that's the end. If memory serves me correctly, I believe this was my first official Short Story. I've revised it a few times over the past year, and this is the most recent version. I'm comtemplating possibly extending it into a full story. Not sure yet, though. |
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4:58 AM Nov 26
