Who is He?
Hovering over Lake Ponchatrain, He waits, scanning the murky waters of the 40 mile wide lake. His mind wanders under the surface, searching for those who have been washed out of the city. Urgency is not his main concern. For these he searches for, it is already too late. This is his purgatory, his sentence. It only took him a day to push the water out of the city and help the National Guard build a temporary seawall. That job was a neccessity; this is what he came here to do. To take the dead, those he could not save, and give them the respect they deserve.
Edward grew up in New Orleans. Middle child in a family of eleven. He grew up in the 9th ward, but managed to escape the chains of poverty and get into the shipping business. His job for the past 24 years, has been on the water of the Mississippi. He is the captain of a tug boat currently anchored near the center of Lake Ponchatrain. His mission here is to maintain the barges that have become the platform for the dead that are pulled out of the lake. His eyes are fixed on the man floating 100 feet above the water. His concentration is shattered by a question from his second mate.
"How long has he been at this?"
"Two days," He answered.
"How long each day?"
He gave the young man next to him a quizical look. "He hasn't stopped"
"Wow, what is he going..."
The old black man raised his hand as the flying man suddenly dropped out of the sky and fell into the water. A plum of water spat up from the surface, at least half as high as he had been flying.
"He has a routine, He waits till he "senses" a body, then he drops into the water and carries them here. I lay down the body bag, and he puts them in it. Yesterday, He pulled out a woman who could have been my Grandmother. She wasnt, but she looked like her. He put her down and sat there five minutes weeping over her."
"I don't get it, doesn't he have, whatsitcalled, tele-...tele-kintectis?"
"Tele-kinesis, the ability to move things with your mind. Yes, why?"
"Well," the second mate tried to organize his thoughts. "Why doesn't he just lift them out of the water with his mind?"
"I don't know. Maybe he wants to be more hands on." The captain paused, "Imagine how you would feel if you got all these incredible powers just a day to late to help save lives in the greatest natural disaster to hit the mainland United States."
"Wow, Thats, that's unreal." he paused, "Do you know who "he" is?"
"Nope, I know he's from this area and he just got his powers, but that's all. I aint got no clue as to his name, and right now, I dont care. He's doing his part, just like the rest of us. I aint gonna bother him." He stopped to lay down another body bag just as the man shot out of the water.
He landed with more grace than a man his size should have. He was dripping with water; his boots water logged and his shirt was clinging to his chest. He held the latest body close to his own as if trying to keep it warm. It was the body of a thin black boy no older than 10 years. He slowly lowered it onto the bag and took his time zipping it up around it. He looked up and met the eyes of the two boat workers. There were no words to say. They just nodded in return and he shot off into the air. His work wasn't done yet. He still had to search the city and the surrounding areas for the rest.
A step back and he looked up into the air. He bent his knees and shot himself up into the air.
------
I had this dream last night. This is what I wish I could do. I feel so useless. I just ran and left everyone else to their fate. What kind of hero is that? What am I supposed to do?
Edward grew up in New Orleans. Middle child in a family of eleven. He grew up in the 9th ward, but managed to escape the chains of poverty and get into the shipping business. His job for the past 24 years, has been on the water of the Mississippi. He is the captain of a tug boat currently anchored near the center of Lake Ponchatrain. His mission here is to maintain the barges that have become the platform for the dead that are pulled out of the lake. His eyes are fixed on the man floating 100 feet above the water. His concentration is shattered by a question from his second mate.
"How long has he been at this?"
"Two days," He answered.
"How long each day?"
He gave the young man next to him a quizical look. "He hasn't stopped"
"Wow, what is he going..."
The old black man raised his hand as the flying man suddenly dropped out of the sky and fell into the water. A plum of water spat up from the surface, at least half as high as he had been flying.
"He has a routine, He waits till he "senses" a body, then he drops into the water and carries them here. I lay down the body bag, and he puts them in it. Yesterday, He pulled out a woman who could have been my Grandmother. She wasnt, but she looked like her. He put her down and sat there five minutes weeping over her."
"I don't get it, doesn't he have, whatsitcalled, tele-...tele-kintectis?"
"Tele-kinesis, the ability to move things with your mind. Yes, why?"
"Well," the second mate tried to organize his thoughts. "Why doesn't he just lift them out of the water with his mind?"
"I don't know. Maybe he wants to be more hands on." The captain paused, "Imagine how you would feel if you got all these incredible powers just a day to late to help save lives in the greatest natural disaster to hit the mainland United States."
"Wow, Thats, that's unreal." he paused, "Do you know who "he" is?"
"Nope, I know he's from this area and he just got his powers, but that's all. I aint got no clue as to his name, and right now, I dont care. He's doing his part, just like the rest of us. I aint gonna bother him." He stopped to lay down another body bag just as the man shot out of the water.
He landed with more grace than a man his size should have. He was dripping with water; his boots water logged and his shirt was clinging to his chest. He held the latest body close to his own as if trying to keep it warm. It was the body of a thin black boy no older than 10 years. He slowly lowered it onto the bag and took his time zipping it up around it. He looked up and met the eyes of the two boat workers. There were no words to say. They just nodded in return and he shot off into the air. His work wasn't done yet. He still had to search the city and the surrounding areas for the rest.
A step back and he looked up into the air. He bent his knees and shot himself up into the air.
------
I had this dream last night. This is what I wish I could do. I feel so useless. I just ran and left everyone else to their fate. What kind of hero is that? What am I supposed to do?
posted by Tim O'Donnell at 13:40
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