Shane Eisenman

May 5, 1995

 

The Wonders of Fiction

 

            The day dawned hot and hazy.  Harvey was up with the sun and was enjoying his bowl of granola cereal and milk with a tall, cool glass of orange juice.  “It’s good to be on vacation,” thought Harvey.  “No home work and no nagging parents.”  It was true.  Harvey was visiting his grandparents in Arizona over the break and was enjoying his seemingly carefree life.

            But you may want an answer as to why, if he was so carefree, was he getting up so early in morning during vacation.  Well, our country is one of free choice and, therefore, uncertainty.  For this reason, it is impossible to say for sure why anyone does anything.  Insight is possible only through the words one speaks or the manner in which one acts.

            The fact is, though, that Harvey was planning on climbing the mountain today and was determined to get an early start.  He had always wanted to climb this mountain.  In fact, he had dreamed about it ever since he say its likeness rising out of the desert on a postcard his grandfather had sent him years ago.  Now he was finally getting his chance to fulfill his dream.

            This is what is so wonderful about fiction.  Unlike in the real world, you know why things happen.  There is no uncertainty.  You create your own world, your own rules, and you are in charge of what happens.  This scenario is one about which the great rulers of the world can only dream.

            His grandparents drove him to the foot of the mountain.  He was well equipped with proper footwear, lightweight garb of a breathable material, and modest but adequate refreshments.  It was approximately 8:00 A.M. when he began his ascent.  It was a tedious climb, blocked with several formidable obstacles, but he managed to reach the top without mishap.

            At the top he looked around, viewing all that could be seen from his high perch.  Then, suddenly, he began to run.  He ran and jumped clear off the mountaintop.  It was a long fall, to be sure.  He saw in a flash all he had just overcome and perhaps began to regret his rash action, but it was too late.  Harvey was killed on impact with the desert floor.  His body was never found and eventually the sands of time erased all traces of him.

            Yet, the real crux of the story is “why”.  Why did the boy seemingly commit suicide?  Did he have deep-rooted psychological problems, or was he just “expressing himself” by rebelling against societal norms.  It would be no trivial matter, for it is not mainly the sequence of events, but the “how and why” that make the story interesting.  But who cares?  Why waste so much time worrying about it?  Sometimes what meets the eye is all there is to see.  So, move along folks, there’s nothing more to see here.  After all, it was just a fictional scenario to begin with.