Hero, a Jericho Satire
Just so we're clear on this. This story's a satire and not meant to be taken at face value as a serious story. The characters and their responses are exaggerated. Poke fun at the characters and story all you want.
Do I need a disclaimer? C'mon. It's a satire.
It was a pretty, early spring day in Jericho, KS. The trees that lined Main Street were beginning to bud. A few birds were singing. The wind carried a warm breeze from the south at 5-10 mph. If not for the scorched buildings and a few miscellaneous pieces of rubble here and there, it would have been impossible for anyone to know they were looking at a post-Apocalyptic version of life.
"Ah, this is the best of all possible worlds," Jimmy Taylor murmured to himself. He had a reason to be cheerful. He was finally out of the hospital following the New Bern battle. When Jimmy rounded the street corner to go to Town Hall, something caught his eyes, causing them to widen in horror.
His best friend Bill Kohler was walking up and down the sidewalk (a lot like the guys who Bill used to catch driving drunk after a judge had gotten hold of them) with signs slung on his back and front. Only these signs didn't feature warnings about the evils of drinking and driving. Jimmy grimaced, though he would have been happy to know that his face maintained its cherubic features, in the opinion of those who looked upon the scene.
Ugh. Bill was drawing attention to himself. Again. It was bad enough when Bill went through his Julia Roberts obsession. Everything was Julia Roberts this, Julia Roberts that. But this was taking things to a new level of ridiculousness, and someone needed to tell him fast before he made a(n even bigger) fool of himself.
"Uh, Bill?" Jimmy Taylor's face showcased his hesitation. "What are you doing with that?"
Bill made a move for his belt buckle and tried to square his shoulders, but any man wearing large poster boards was going to look ridiculous no matter how cool he tried to look. "With what?" His voice was nonchalant.
"That sign on your back? Um, and on your front?"
Bill briefly looked down at the two poster boards he'd fastened together with yarn from his mother's knitting bag. He thought they looked pretty good and would advertise his skills, if not his penmanship, just in case anyone hadn't been paying attention. He was, after all, one half of Jericho's finest and had been for awhile.
'HERO ON DUTY' was scrawled onto the poster board that hung over his chest with what must have been a thick black marker, no doubt laden with toxic fumes. 'NEED HELP? I'M YOUR MAN' was what he had written on the poster board that hung over his back.
"I'm just letting everyone know that I'm here for them."
Jimmy was skeptical. "By pacing outside of Town Hall wearing signs? That's…"
"That's what?" Bill asked. His voice showed his defensiveness.
"Strange?"Jimmy didn't want to hurt his friend's feelings for anything. It was obvious to all that Bill was overly sensitive, but someone really needed to clue him in that what he was doing was only making him the laughingstock of town.
"You want to talk strange? Explain to me how Jake Green was named sheriff over me? All that ass kissing, wasted! Down the drain. For nothing, nada, zilch."
"Jake's done a lot for this town, Bill." Jimmy lowered his voice. "Things that you and I wouldn't do, to be honest with you."
"But the only experience he has with law is breaking it! Geesh. Save a bus full of runny-nosed kids and suddenly you're the new it-guy. Rig explosives at the salt mine to bury people alive and people think you're handy or something. Threaten to blow yourself up along with a bridge, and people think you're brave. Me? I was busy being a hero before Jake ever even thought of reforming."
"Since when are you a hero?" Jimmy chortled, saw Bill's glare, and stopped laughing abruptly.
"You're kidding. Right? There was that time that I singlehandedly rescued Emily and Bonnie from two escaped convicts."
Jimmy shook his head. "Jake did that. We were locked in the trunk of our squad car. Remember?"
"Or the time I helped that guy. You know, the one with the blistery skin oozing puss." Bill's hands went up to his own face to demonstrate the ooziness. "The radioactive guy? I got him to the med center. Carried him with one hand tied behind my back. I mean, he died and all, but I tried to help."
"Jake and Stanley did that."
"Okay. You have to remember this one. Remember when I restored order after the food drop? All those starving people were grabbing at the food, and I…"
Jimmy interrupted. His patience was growing thin. "You fired your gun into a crowd of people, made Grandma Jones wet her shorts because you scared her so much, and got chewed out by Johnston Green."
Bill looked like a dejected child. "Hey, there was the time I talked a chicken into cutting off its own head. That saved us all from starving!"
"That was Mimi, and the chicken didn't volunteer to be dinner."
"Well, I did subdue the refugees when they got out of order at the church."
"And ended up at the med center."
Bill glared at Jimmy. "What's your problem? I mean, I'm a hero for crying out loud! I decided so five minutes ago. I've given this a lot of thought! And look, tomorrow, I'm going to save Dale from a pair of runaway barber's clippers. Gotta protect those curls. Next week, I'll find a case of diet soda for Skylar out at Jonah Prowse's compound. A few days later, I'm gonna pop Heather's cherry so she doesn't die a virgin when New Bern assassins come for her. I won't go into too many details about that just in case there are some immature ears around here, if you know what I mean. Allison Hawkins is probably going to be pissed that I'm spending time with Heather, but it's none of her business."
Jimmy frowned. Bill and Heather? Had the two of them ever actually talked? And what did Allison Hawkins have to do with anything? "Bill, I don't want to bring you down, but you're getting ahead of yourself. You've got potential to be heroic, but it's how you're getting there that isn't making any sense."
"But…"
"No, just listen for a minute. We've been friends for what? Forever? I want to go along with you being a hero. I do. It's just that—"
"Just what?"
"I know you. The people here in Jericho know you. If you start acting all heroic without any explanation," Jimmy's voice trailed off. "Look, these are good people. They'll go along with you if what you're saying and doing makes sense. You just need to do this whole hero thing gradually. Get people to buy into it."
"I don't know how to be gradual. I mean, it's so unlike me to be gradual. What you see is what you get." Bill balled his fists suddenly becoming angry. "You do know vigilantism is illegal, don't you?"
Jimmy rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, I'm deputy. Just like you are, Bill. I know the laws."
"Then why do the Rangers get to play hero? They're freakin vigilantes! I want to be the hero, damn it! Why should I have to prove that my being hero makes sense? I mean look at Jake, pretty boy Jake. Except when he's scruffy Jake. Okay. Sometimes he's curly haired Jake. But anyway, look at Jake. Why does he get to be the hero and get the women? What's so heroic about playing tonsil hockey with Heather Lisinski on Main Street? What's so heroic about mackin' on Emily Sullivan with Roger being missing? What's so heroic about snogging that Maggie chick?"
"Been reading Harry Potter again?"
"Hey, I'll have you know that I dated a girl once who was a set designer and worked on those movies. She almost got me a role in the movie until the director found out I wasn't actually British. Or a teenager."
Jimmy seriously doubted whether Bill had ever had a date but let it slide. "Look, I'm your friend, Bill. Don't take this personally, but I think you need to rethink this whole sign/hero/whatever deal. Take it slow. Ease into your new role. Like I said, if you do, people will start to look at you in a new light. They'll go along with you."
"Why do I even bother?" Bill threw up his hands in exasperation. "I live in a black and white world where you're either good or bad. Hero or villain. If I'm not the hero, then that means I'm the villain."
Jimmy tried to explain matters gently to his friend. "Just because you're not the hero doesn't mean you're a villain, Bill."
"No," Bill replied pulling his signs angrily from his body. "I'm giving up this whole hero business. It's beyond me." The frustration he felt was obvious to anyone within earshot, and there were plenty of people who watched as Bill erupted into a tantrum. Bill ripped the poster boards and dropped the pieces of litter next to (but not inside) a waste basket. Though ripped, the signs were still readable.
"Bill, you're leaving a mess."
"Don't try to stop me. I'm just a villain. Villains litter! Nothing you or anyone else says can change my mind. Maybe I should just quit working at the sheriff's department. That'll teach you all!"
Jimmy watched Bill storm off. "Didn't mean to make him feel bad. I just thought he'd want to know his approach to being a hero isn't working since he wants to be a hero so bad and all."
Gail Green watched as Bill Kohler sat on a park bench pouting. She felt bad for him, and being the motherly figure that she was, she wanted to make it all better. She sat next to him. "I heard you were having a rough time of it, Bill. Is there anything I can do to help?"
Bill looked at Gail Green. She was compassionate, and she could see the good in people. Just look at the way she invited Emily to Thanksgiving. Or the way she excused Jake for years of bad behavior when he brought her home a strawberry rhubarb pie. Or the way she welcomed Eric's mistress into the Green family with open arms. If there was anyone who had the capacity to see Bill's inner hero, it would be her.
Bill opened his mouth to speak, but a sob came out instead. He leaned his head on Gail's shoulder. His body shook from the sobs, crocodile tears ran down his cheeks, and a snot bubble popped out of his nose. Gail was wishing she had just stayed out of it when Bill finally began to talk. "Things are just real hard right now. More than anything, I want to be a hero, but Jimmy says no one will take me seriously because I'm rushing things. I mean, how do you rush being a hero? You either are one or your aren't. I am one. Or at least I thought I was. What should I say to show everyone that I am a hero?"
"Have you ever heard the saying that actions speak louder than words?"
Bill's expression hardened as he sat up and looked at Gail. "Ffshaw. Hasn't everyone? Try telling me something I don't know."
"What I'm saying is that if you want people to think of you as a hero, you're going to have to start doing things that are heroic rather than inserting yourself into other people's stories. I heard what you said to Jimmy about all the things you say you've done. I also know none of them are true. Just show us your heroism."
A light bulb went off over Bill's head, followed by a chime that sounded remarkably like an oven timer. "I think I've got it."
Later, with the help of his mother, Bill reconstructed signs. They were bigger and better than ever. Rather than just being made of black letters, these signs were outlined with glitter.
SUPER HERO ON DUTY. WILL BE YOUR CHAMPION.*
*compliments and monetary (but not verbal) tips gladly accepted
Back and forth, Bill paced. He thought of the acts of heroism he planned. What did Jimmy know? How dare Jimmy inundate Bill with his opinions anyway? Who asked him?
Just then, Grandma Jones came strolling by. She still remembered the unfortunate wetting incident following the Chinese food drop, and she tried to avoid Bill Kohler at all costs. With that in mind, she began to cross the street without first going to a pedestrian crosswalk.
Bill rushed over to her to assist her to the nearest crosswalk. With her poor peripheral vision brought on by a rather nasty case of glaucoma, Grandma Jones thought she was being accosted by those who only wanted to use her for her body. She began to scream at the top of her lungs and strike Bill repeatedly with her walking stick before she realized it was him. Then she saw him and hit him once more for good measure.
"Hey! I was only trying to be your hero!" Bill sulked.
Gail and Jimmy, who had witnessed the whole sordid episode, approached Bill tentatively.
Bill watched as the old woman—whose pants were still dry this time—huffed away. "I can't believe the nerve of Grandma Jones! I was only trying to help her cross the street! How can she reject my heroic overtures? What do you think?"
"Bill," Jimmy began patiently, "Grandma was doing just fine on her own. She didn't need to be rescued, and you rushing her in the middle of the street was just um…um…"
"Bill, honey," Gail continued gently, "what Jimmy is trying to say is that you just need to pick and choose your rescuing attempts a little more soundly. Only be a hero when it makes sense."
"Who asked for your opinion? Just go along and accept that I am a hero. Enjoy watching me be heroic, damn it!"
Bill's words came as a slap to Gail who only had his best interests at heart. And didn't he just ask what they thought? "Pardon me?"
Bill crossed his arms. "I said, who asked for your opinion? I am being a hero because it is fun, not because I have to make sense to you."
"Bill, I would never intentionally offend you for anything in the world. You know that, Honey," Gail said soothingly.
"I know. You've always been good to me. But I just have to let this out. So what if I talk a lot about being a hero? It's my right to tell stories of my heroism the way I see fit."
"Just like it's our right to tell you when you're being an ass." Jake Green's voice was unmistakable. He had approached after taking down another gunman from New Bern, rescuing a cat from a tree, and surviving Emily Sullivan's failed baking attempts.
Bill turned. He spoke sarcastically. "You gonna give me hero lessons, Jake?"
Jake looked at his deputy sideways and took in a deep breath. Not again. He would have to save the day. Again. "No. I wouldn't know enough about that except that you can't order up a hero like it's a sandwich or something."
Jimmy opened his mouth to comment but Gail placed her hand under his jaw and closed his mouth for him.
Jake continued, "'Sides, if you parade around in public telling everybody how you're going to be a hero or are a hero or whatever the hell you're saying, you gotta be prepared for their reaction. You act publicly, they respond publicly. That's their right. You don't have to like what they say, but there it is."
"I don't like what you're saying now. You can't come here onto my street corner and tell me what I can and can't say."
"Uh, Bill, it's Main Street," Jimmy reminded him. "You don't own it."
"Oh," Bill was crestfallen for a moment before turning back to Jake. "Hey, you haven't happened to hear anything about whether Julia Roberts made it through the bombs, have you? Could you maybe check Beck's database for me? She doesn't know it yet, but I plan to marry her someday…"
A/N's:
Bill never did pop Heather's cherry. Heather was spared that…um…'heroic' act. There is some debate over whether Heather eventually got it on with Jake or with Beck. Other writers can tackle that one.
I like the number two. It's so much better than the number one.
Bill continued to moon over Julia Roberts in his spare time when he wasn't off being a self-proclaimed hero. He even convinced his mother to cross stitch a pillow with Julia Roberts's likeness on it.
Jimmy continued to try to be a voice of reason in a sea of madness. He drowned.
Snogging is a British term that refers to kissing. This term is used by J.K. Rowling in the latter installments of the Harry Potter series.