It was high noon. Light streamed in through the many holes in the wood above him. He stretched his tight, aching leg muscles and shook his head to clear away the mist of boredom. The horses infront of him did much the same thing, shaking their heads and stamping their hooves impatiently, desiring to finish the last leg of the journey so they could enjoy some much needed rest.
“Must we take so long at this stop? When will we be ready to depart?” Judah implored towards the side of the caravan. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see at least half a dozen children buzzing around trees, some reliving themselves, others battling invisible forces with twigs.
“You're brother speaks wisdom children,” answered his Mother, “hurry yourselves!”
With the quiet, yet firm words of their mother, the slowly children boarded the caravan. Only one remained outside, squatting over a tree stump, intently focused on finishing some sort of task.
“What art thou doing John? Let's go!” Judah demanded impatiently.
“I'm just finishing writing this message!” John said, not bothering to look up from his work. “One can't get any reception in a van full of children, can they?” With that, he put down his quill, wrapped up the note, and gave it to his pigeon.
“To Mary!” He said to the bird, attempting to not allow the others to hear. The bird, cocked it's head, then took off in a flurry of movement.
“Messaging Mary yet again John? You know how I feel about personal communication with women.”
“Oh mother please, we're just acquaintances, nothing more.”
“Well, make sure it stays that way.” Mother said, allowing John to step into the caravan.
“Can we please leave? We're supposed to be there 30 minutes ago!” Judah pleaded.
“Yes, yes go!”
Almost immediately, Judah forced the horses into a trot, throwing the many young passengers back. A flurry of protests erupted, but Judah didn't care. He needed to get to that Squire Tournament; he needed to prove himself to both his family and to the world around him. As he guided the horses down the road, he could make out the vague outline of a bird just behind him. In a few seconds, it began to approach the van. John had obviously noticed it to, reaching his arm out the window to allow it to land. The bird placidly perched on his arm, and John took the scroll from between its talons. He read it quickly, then proceeded to write another message on the backside of the paper – all the while, seeming to smile at his own wit and charm.
“Addict.” Thought Judah, with a chuckle. “Why would one enslave themselves to their social life? It's a bizarre world.”
With that thought, he gave the horses another prod, hoping that his constant pushing and impatience would somehow cut back on time lost on bathroom breaks.
********
When the van finally pulled into the training grounds, they were an hour late for checkin. But Judah was too preoccupied to be embarrassed or angry. He had never seen such an awe inspiring sight. The school was incredible. Judah had never seen a larger building. From afar, it looked like one of the ancient castles he had excitedly read about as a child – it even seemed to have a Keep that functioned as a gym. Yet, as soon as his spirits were lifted, they were dampened by the shocking situations taking place around him.
The first thing he noticed were the girls. Not that he was one for staring, but the girls seemed to come straight from Sodom itself! Instead of the customary garb he was accustomed to seeing of the women around him – that is, blue denim jumpers or jean skirts – these girls wore tight fitting shorts that were shorter than many of his undergarments. He averted his eyes and blushed as he saw the exposed knee and thigh of one girl. Yet this was not even half of the shocking spectacle now before him. Instead of long, flowing hair or intricate braidings of the girls back at the Home-Squire Co-op, the girls here had hair from shockingly short to varying degrees of colors. It left him speechless with horror. Worse, the women demonstrated little care for purity in both their actions and relations – hanging on boys shoulders, holding hands with another, and even occasionally – and this Judah could not believe – kissing! All the traditions and values he'd been taught his entire life we're being openly disregarded and mocked – yet no one seemed to care.
Making matters worse, were the pigeons. They were absolutely everywhere. Pigeons flew back and forth, to and fro, up and down, amongst the flood of young adults. Messages were written and sent back and forth amongst friends with such speed, it was as if they were somehow communicating face to face. Consequently, the whole area was a buzz of conversing with the individual before you, receiving a pigeon, replying to the message, then returning back to initial conversation. It was a social feeding frenzy and he was caught in the middle of it. “And I thought John was addicted to his social life...” Judah thought.
“Can you believe this, Mother?” Judah said incredulously.
“It's utter madness,” she replied horrified, “the poor children are machines!”
“What's going on mother? Can we see?” Inquired a little voice from the back of the van, as he attempted to squirm to the front.
“No, no Joshua! You must stay put! There is nothing of value to see here!” Mother commanded, pushing the child back, not wanting to expose the children to the scandalousness taking place before them. Judah wished he could've been allowed to duck into the shelter dome of the caravan. He couldn't help but notice that as he and his family slowly proceeded down the street, they received an inordinate amount of chuckles and jeers. Obviously, the enormous caravan had made a rather embarrassing impression. People were pointing at it, sending picture messages of it, and yelling obscene, rude comments at himself, the driver. He started to feel a sense of doubt within him – even if he was to prove his worth to these people, would they ever actually accept him? There differences were already boundless and he hadn't even spoken to one yet. Was he supposed to prove his worth to people who obviously made the larger percentage of their judgements, simply on how you slid into the current mode and fashion? How was he, an outcast to this fallen world, supposed to enter into it and prove that he was in fact, both capable and equal? Doubt began to brew in his stomach and he began to fervently wish he could depart back to the sanctuary of his home...
*********
“Your name?”
Judah, snapped back to attention. “Uh, yes. Ahem. It's Judah.”
An awkward silence seemed to pervade the room and squires, obviously from all over the country, began to stare at him. Had he done something wrong?
“Your name? Your full name?” Repeated the obviously flustered manager.
Judah mentally smacked himself on the head. “Yes of course! I'm truly sorry. I've been quite out of it today.” Judah's stammering had only drawn him more attention. “Judah Kintly. My name is Judah Kintly.”
“Thank you. What school do you go to?” His voice was intimidating it was so emotionless.
“I'm Home squired.” He tried to make it sound nonchalant by saying it quickly.
“What was that?”
Judah gulped. “Uh, Home Squired.” Again, silence pervaded the room.
“Is it some sort of private institution?” inquired the manager, seeming to be on the verge of both laughter and shock.
“No, well, yes. But I am instructed at home, if that's what you are inquiring.”
“I was inquiring into whether you have the necessary knowledge to even participate in this tournament. I'm not sure your mother teaching you counts.” A few laughs bursted out from around Judah. He tried to remain calm.
“I'm quite qualified, sir. Please let me participate so I may prove it to you.” His response didn't seem to land as softly as the managers joke. The manager just stared at him with a bemused expression.
“Very well. Here's your number and your dorm key.”
“Dorm key?”
“Yes, you'll be staying on campus for the night.”
Judah wasn't exactly comfortable with that idea. “When's my first duel?”
“Noon tomorrow. Try to be on time this time, alright?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” The manager gave him a nod, and signaled the next person to in line.
Judah immediately made his way to the dorm, it was quite late and he wanted to be rested for his fight tomorrow. No one paid much attention to him as he made his way down the hallway to his dorm – in fact, most didn't even bother him a glance. He had given a friendly wave to one person walking down the hallway, but he didn't even bother to look up from his current message. What was strangest of all – and it had been a trait he had begun to recognize amongst the males – but his chain mail pants hung ridiculously low on his waist, revealing much of the colored leather beneath. Initially, Judah had assumed it to be an accident, but now, he was having second thoughts.
"Could the fashion possibly be to not wear your clothes properly?"
Eventually, he found his dorm. He prepared himself for the obviously embarrassing and unique conversations that probably awaited his near future. “There's no use delaying it.” He said under his breath. He pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. As he did so, he thought under his breath, “And so begins the first of many tests to come...”
********
If the previous night had been a test, he had flunked it brilliantly. As soon as he had begun to introduce himself, his teammate realized he was the kid who was “Home squired”. Immediately he began asking ridiculous and idiotic questions like, “Do you have friends? Have you ever actually competed with others? Do you always get high grades because your mom checks your work? Do you like girls?” The questions had infuriated Judah, and he began to release some of his pent up frustration, retorting that the current culture was immoral, that girls were all guys ever thought about, that he had a better education than most of the squires, and that he could out duel most anybody.
To all of this, his roommate had simply replied with the utmost simplicity, “You're such a dork!” then proceeded to barrel over with laughter.
The next morning, Judah had risen early – not only to enjoy some much needed practice – but to avoid any interaction with Shawn, his roommate. Soon, sweat began to drip down his face and his focus was as hard as iron. Yet, as he began to see the competition enter the practice room – with their muscular arms and deft skill – his confidence began to wane. These squires had acquired years of training under actual Knights. How could he – a squire who had been instructed by his mother virtually his entire life – hope to best them? It seemed impossible.
He continued to stay loose until 11:30, but his confidence was thin and doubt lingered at the back of his mind constantly. Finally, the time came. If nothing at all, it was a distraction from all the noise and jeers around him. By this time, word had spread that the Knight in the Camo – for that was his symbol – was home squired. Dozens of people had come up to him and asked similar questions to what Shawn had pestered him with last night. It was simply outrageous. Of course he had friends! Of course he didn't get high grades for nothing! Of course he had tested himself before! The constant peppering of questions had driven him so mad, he was looking forward to the duel, whether or not he win or lose, simply so he wouldn't have to answer anymore dumb questions.
He was sitting on a bench, thinking through the different styles he could attempt to use when the ref came up behind him and tapped his shoulder.
“Time to duel son.”
“Thank you sir.” Judah responded as he grabbed his gear.
He walked up to the ring, unsheathed his sword, and closed the visor on his camo helmet. Whether or not he was ready, it was time to prove himself. As he looked in the direction of his opponent, he saw him quickly scribble a last second message which he sent off with his blue pigeon. He then ran up the stairs, nearly tripped, then threw his helmet over his head.
“I swear, if it wasn't for those thousands of pigeons which run their social network, I'm sure mankind would go insane.” Judah chuckled to himself.
At that moment, a loudspeaker began to announce the fight. “The first duel will take place between Samuel Hort of Newwark Highschool...” a cheer erupted from the crowd and a dozen or so girls screamed at the top of their lungs, “Go Sammy!”
After the cheers subsided, the loudspeaker continued, “The duel will be between Samuel Hort and Judah Kintly – a home-squired student...”
Judah had expected completely silence at the mention of his name, but what happened next was worse then he could've possibly imagined. His whole family, garbed in their respective Denim Jumpers or Camo with Jean Shorts, began to hop up and down madly, screaming his name. Blood rushed to Judah's cheeks and he gave a glance of horror in the direction of his family.
“Let the match begin!”
Judah put the embarrassing experience behind him and focused on the task before him. He began to slowly circle as his opponent slowly inched his way toward him. Their swords dangled by their sides, dulled, but ready to damage their opponent as much as possible before claiming victory. Their eyes seemed to meet behind the many pounds of metal encasing them. They glared, yet there was no hatred. There was no anger. There was only a burning determination. For his opponent, it was simply to earn recognition and self-esteem. For Judah, it was for an ideal. An ideal that differences do not decide character. That differences do not create or destroy opportunity. That differences do not place social boundaries. Judah wasn't fighting for himself and he wasn't fighting to prove the world wrong. He was fighting for the outcast. Those who have their traditions and stick by them, regardless of the changes that go on around them. Those who believe that the accepted way, isn't always the better way. Physically, the battle focused on strength versus strength and skill versus skill. But from a greater viewpoint, this was a battle to prove that being outside the mold does not make you useless or unsuccessful.
“Truth is,” Judah realized, “it takes a lot more skill to break the mold than it is to flow with it.”
With that, he stepped forward and clashed against the mold.
