WISE’, JACOPO & PIPPEN: A Tale of the Protagonists “Sidekick”
Or should I say Sam? Simple in his ways. Dr. Seuss-like, probably woulda’ been cool with a side of ham (and maybe some green eggs).
Oh, Jacopo? The greatest knife fighter they’ve ever seen. Well, til ‘Dantes- turned Driftwood’ came thru. Sandiest hood I’ve ever seen.
Thirty-three? Strong shoulders-specially’ during flu season. Horns like a Bull. “One-man wrecking crew” (someone once said)…I don’t think he think they knew. Maybe he thought The Air was whistling too loud for them too.
All were well known in and out of town, but when debates got heated, ain’t nobody spittin’ their name — it woulda been strange — kinda like church folk ending prayer talkin’ bout’ “In James’ name….”.
They had disciple-like guff. The kind of guff to cut off the left ear of their friends’ enemy; even if the friend at times were an enemy to him…or himself. But their swords were (visibly) invisible. Funny how s̶h̶e̶e̶p one can internalize and then decide who the chief, or Zen (master) should be…or that there should only be one to get the shine when more than one secured the shiny ones.
“Suddenly I found myself jealous. Jealous that I was not his ‘precious’ — idolized. But my internalized quickly reminded me that ‘Precious’ has never been idolized.”
Mesmerized by the noble warfare (and its inevitable casualties)— the smoke of the Bull, the sweat bathed in Wise’s eyes, and with the quick fling of the wrist flew Jacopo’s knife. Protecting the “precious” one by any means necessary. Death to self, even it means death of self.
Suddenly I found myself jealous. Jealous that I was not his ‘precious’ — idolized. But my internalized quickly reminded me that ‘Precious’ has never been idolized.
Idolatry kept m̵e̵, u̵s̵, h̵i̵m̵, t̵h̵e̵ir?…….……..t̵̵̵h̵̵̵e̵y?…………..them??……
Idolatry kept them steady — ready to rumble at the slightest grumble of who’s the greatest. The “greatest” afraid to stumble lest their name may crumble and be destroyed in the fire of mount doom.
Gollum’s column writes: ”For whom can stand and say: I swear on my dead relatives — and even on the ones who are not feeling too good — I am your man forever!”
Oh, but humility has thin skin on the island of Monte Cristo. The wingman’s shadow always lies within. Burns for recognition for every penny earned. He practiced the dance within the four walls of his cell, learned the art of trickery in preparation for every man’s duality. Learned to play kind to the king — knowing the Queen holds all the power. Used his charming tongue to tower over the simple and the greedy. Houdini freed. The same beast but a different animal.
The beast sacrificed for the sake of ‘civilization’ eventually becomes unleashed.
“How did [he] escape? With difficulty. How did [he] plan this moment?…With pleasure.”
Finally…
