Hammers and Heroes

Chantal Schaul, 2001

It was a stormy night, but in the midst of a wide expanse of fields and pastures, a lonely young man was lying in the grass, arms crossed behind his head. He was gazing at the brooding sky and the bustling clouds. They had a calming effect on him, and the jets of rain washed all troubles from his face. The roaring thunder and mighty lightning strobes were like lullabies to his ears and made him feel like an infant in a rocking cradle.

The youngster was well aware that his fondness of thunderstorms was out of the ordinary. All the doctors he had seen so far were convinced that he was a thunderstorm addict, but he knew better. Unfortunately he suffered from a speech disorder and could not explain his singular soft spot for the meteorological phenomenon. And no one would have believed him anyway.

He was woken from his thunderstorm daze by a female voice emerging from a car which he hadn’t seen approaching. “Are you ok?” she asked. “Yes.” he replied. “What are you doing here? You could get struck by lightning and die! Let me take you home!” In the glow of the car’s headlights she saw the young man’s features. He was strikingly handsome and a genuine friendliness emanated from his features. “Yes.” he said, and got into the car.

The young woman introduced herself “My name is Ecstatica Rumbelrula. I have a lightning conductor business. That’s why I am so aware of the danger of lightning bolts. Who are you?” – “Yes.” he replied. “No, I mean, what is your name?” – “Yes.” he repeated. “Oh. You mean Yes is your name?” – “Yes.” Not to appear like a complete freak, he took his speech disorder certification from his wallet and handed it over to her. It read thus: “This is to certify that Yes is suffering from a speech disorder. The only word he can pronounce is “yes.” Apart from this impediment, Yes is a perfectly normal human individual.” It was signed by a certified doctor of medicine.

Ecstatica felt genuinely sorry for the young man. And how would she now be able to find out where he lived? “Can you write?” she asked, then re-phrased it, “say yes if you can write.” But Yes remained silent. He took a map from his pocket, however, which had the location of his house marked with a red cross. He lived on the edge of a forest not far from the small town where Ecstatica lived. She dropped him off and, to show his gratitude, he pronounced a very elongated and kind “yeaaaahhh” and smiled at her in the most good-natured manner. Her heart warmed to him and she fell head over heels in love with Yes.

During the following day, Ecstatica was pondering over the mysterious young man. Who was he? Where did he come from? She went through her files and found a farm located not very far from Yes’s cabin, where she had once installed a lightning conductor. She dropped in with the pretense of asking how the conductor was working and discretely enquired about Yes. The farmer’s wife provided her with the following information: Yes had come from an orphanage and moved into the cabin three months ago. He was running a little forge where he constructed chains and jewelry and sold them on the market in a nearby town called Youeeay. That was all the woman could tell Ecstatica.

Despite repeated efforts to forget Yes and get on with her lightning conductor business, Ecstatica just could not help going to the market in Youeeay on the following Saturday. She saw Yes from a distance, and waved at him. Always friendly and welcoming, Yes waved back and displayed an amiable smile. He gestured her to come over and have a look at his wares, warmly saying: “Yeeeaaahhh.” A lot of miniature hammers of different sizes and styles were exposed on a red velvet throw. A sign next to them read “Mjölnirs.” A bar behind him carried an abundance of chains of all lengths and thicknesses. Some could be used as necklaces to support miniature hammers. Others could be worn on belts as key-holders or simply to make you look cool. Others, again, could serve as ankle chains for prisoners, or even as ship anchor support chains.

Ecstatica fondly looked at the little hammers and purchased one. Yes said “yeeeaaahhh” several times. Ecstatica was almost ready to leave, when she reconsidered and asked: “Is there any other way that you can communicate with people?” He looked at her with trusting eyes and said: “Yes.” She did not take his answer at face value, because, after all, what else could he have replied? However, he rummaged for something in his bag and finally took out a board with an alphabet printed on it. He pointed at different letters in consecution, thus making up the following words: “Let’s go and see a thunderstorm tonight. There will be one in a village nearby, called Square.” She was a little surprised because she still had not received any further information about him, but was glad of course to have a chance of getting to know him better, and replied: “That would be wonderful. I will be round later then.” Yes’s eyes sparkled and in the nicest manner imaginable he uttered a long “yeeeeaaaahhhh.”

After watching the thunderstorm, to which Ecstatica had brought all the necessary equipment so they would not get struck, and after Yes had recovered his thunderstorm-dazed senses, they returned to his abode. He got his alphabet board out once again, and spelt out a wondrous story, which Ecstatica was very hesitant to believe. She took it as the magic construction of a lonely orphan child. It went thus: Yes was really the son of Thor the thundergod. His addiction for thunderstorms stemmed from his childhood, when he was allowed to ride through the heavens in his father’s carriage. But when Yes was only three years old, Thor cruelly expelled him from Asgard because he had run off at the sight of a giant. His father was storming with anger, disowned him and cast a spell on him whereby he would only be able to repeatedly pronounce the one word he had last uttered. This word happened to be “yes”, in answer to Thor’s question: “Did I just see you running away from that giant?”

Thus, Yes found himself all alone on earth, only able to say “yes.” Luckily, he was found by altruistic people who put him in an orphanage. From then on, he was called Yes, according to the one word he was able to say. When Yes was old enough to leave the orphanage, he started forging little hammers, in memory of his father. As the hammers were not a very lucrative business on their own, Yes started to forge chains, too, because they were currently in demand and brought the money in. But everywhere he went, he was treated like an outsider and a freak, and he had to repeatedly move on after a short while. The one thing he did not reveal to Ecstatica was that he had, head over heels, fallen in love with her.

From then on, Yes and Ecstatica spent many an evening together. She taught him all about lightning conductors, while he introduced her to the art of miniature hammer forging. Sometimes they went to a bar, and whenever this happened, Yes immediately headed for the driving machines. They reminded him of speeding through the skies in his father’s carriage. Ecstatica smilingly indulged in his little extravagances. As time went by, their existences became more and more inter-linked. Everything seemed perfect, when, one day, something happened that set off a terrible chain of events.

It all began one fine day in the marketplace of Youeeay. Ecstatica was assisting Yes with his hammer sales, while an orator’s pulpit was being erected in the centre of the place. At noon a little orchestra introduced the arrival of Clark Clipper, a local politician, who was ready to make his speech about future party policies. He arrived, walking in a strange bouncy manner towards the pulpit, and cleared his throat importantly. He was wearing semi-hippie clothes, in accordance to the party’s anti-belligerent philosophy. His hair was shaped in a mullet to symbolically reconcile all eras of time. To give the impression of a no-nonsense politician, he entirely refrained from smiling.

Clark Clipper positioned himself in front of the microphone, lay his gnarled hand on his belly, and spoke in a grave voice and with a long face:

“Hum, hum. I have been thinking a lot lately, about the world. I am a shrewd observer and like to analyse things. It has thus not escaped my attention that, in recent years, a lot of dormant anger, which has probably accrued in our systems over years and years, is bursting forth more and more violently during these bleak times that we are living in. Thirty or forty years ago, we would perhaps have used recreational drugs to deal with our emotions. Nowadays most people are very occasional users of so-called 'grass’, but even several serious smoking sessions would probably cause more harm than good. No. Our solution to the problem of anger and violence has to be an altogether different one. In a series of long thinking sessions I have finally come up with the only way we can deal with what seems to be our predicament. My motto is: Go back to nature! If we calm down nature’s outbursts and make our environment a calm and relaxing one, our children, and even ourselves, grown up as we are, will attempt to imitate our natural surroundings. Let us do away with disasters such as rain, fire, thunder and lightning, earthquakes, and all the likes.”

At this point Clark Clipper held his breath to watch the effect his words had made on the audience. A huge applause, secretly generated by Clipper’s followers, up-heaved the crowd. He then continued, self-satisfied, emphasizing every word:

“We will start our program first of all by abolishing thunderstorms and rain. The mayor has already given his consent to my program. Our way of achieving thunderstormlessness is to cover all expanses of water with cling film, in order to prevent it from evaporating and turning into clouds. Of course we also have to avoid overspilling of clouds from other areas. Therefore we will shield our land with a see-through cover at first. Already our minister of foreign affairs is concluding deals with other countries and we are hoping that, within a year at the most, the whole earth will be thunder-, lightning-, and rain-free.”

A loud 'hurrah’ rippled through the audience. Only Ecstatica and Yes remained silent. They stared at each other, aghast. The fact that Ecstatica would be out of business if Clark Clipper’s plan became reality seemed a minor issue in comparison to Yes’s fate. How would he ever be able to find relief and calmness again if he could no longer immerse himself into the warmth and cosiness of a thunderstorm? And worse, still, what would happen to Thor if the purpose of his entire existence was taken from him? Would he die from loss of power and importance? It was clear that Clark Clipper had to be stopped for numerous reasons. Unfortunately, the crowd seemed to like him and go for his ideas. But surely every politician had a shortcoming that could be found out and turned into the engine of his downfall. Ecstatica decided to try her luck and pay him a visit.

That same evening, Ecstatica rang Clark Clipper’s doorbell. He took a while to open and, although he had never laid eyes on her in his entire life, as far as she knew, he immediately asked her come in. He had not even taken the time to put on some shoes and his toes were peaking out underneath the rim of his flared trousers. The toes were exceedingly tiny. Concentrating on his face rather than his walking implements, Ecstatica introduced herself and proceeded thus: “I don’t share your view on thunderstorms. They are no threat to anyone as long as they are kept under control, which is not a problem at all.” – “Obviously you have never experienced the onslaught of feelings that a thunderstorm can bring about in a human being. It drains you emotionally; it makes you want to disappear into a cave of isolation and to hibernate until life seems less bleak,” Clark replied patronisingly.

Ecstatica could not help but think that, perhaps, Clark was slightly overreacting. He added: “I know you don’t appreciate my policy, but not everyone does. I am not needy for admirers. I have friends. Will you excuse me while I make myself some cheese on toast; I am very hungry and my metabolism is a fast one.” He got up from his armchair without waiting for a reply, but as he crossed the room a huge tome fell down from a bookshelf. It was entitled “Understanding and Manipulating Natural Phenomena” and was the size of a medium suitcase. As it crashed on the wooden floor it created an immense gust of wind, which was powerful enough to lift Clark’s flared trousers up to his knees, or, at least, to where his knees should have been.

To Ecstatica’s surprise, the flares revealed not calves but – and this was exceedingly strange – extremely high arched feet. The arches reached up to where Clark’s knees should have been. Instead of knees, however, there were ankles. This could only mean that his real legs only started half-way up his trouser legs, which made his real legs exceedingly short. In fact, had his feet been cut off, Clark Cutter would have turned into a midget!

Luckily, Clark was unaware of his momentary exposure. After putting the book back on the shelf, he calmly went into the kitchen to make cheese on toast.

On the way home, Ecstatica popped into the library and perused a few medical books to find out about Clark Clipper’s extraordinary condition. Tn a book entitled “The strangest Disorders in Existence” she discovered that he was suffering from what was professionally called 'Maxipede Midget Disorder with Aggravated Arch Syndrome’ or, in short, MMDAAS. The popular name for the condition was simply 'Wishbone Disease’. The book also explained that MMDAAS was commonly kept a secret, and that the people affected should be approached with much caution, as they had a tendency to be two-faced and double-dealing. Ecstatica concluded that Clark Clipper was a serious danger to society.

After Yes had been acquainted with the curious discovery, he became very worried. His father had always warned him of people with high arches. They were too wrapped up in themselves and only sought out their own advantage. Clearly Clark Clipper had a personal problem with thunderstorms. They seemed to wind him up beyond endurance and affect his mind. Therefore, it was only for his own personal profit that he intended to abolish them altogether. Yes and Ecstatica made it their mission to reveal Clipper’s true nature in front of the public and to thwart his megalomaniacal plan.

Clipper’s next public speech was scheduled for the following Saturday. This time, he had a proper stage erected for him. Various TV stations had their cameras in position. The name Clark Clipper had become a household name; his condensed slogan 'Tame Nature, Tame Yourself!’ adorned newspapers, posters, walls and cling film rolls. Two thirds of all water surfaces in the area had been covered already. To eradicate all sources of possible condensation, no one was allowed to wash their cars or have showers, for the time being. Special sealed off buildings had sprung from the earth to allow for those kinds of activities in the future. According to Clipper, a new sense of togetherness was to develop within these temporary conglomerations. The common cause of abolishing thunderstorms would weld a loose community into an inseparable lump of thunder-haters.

When, on that fateful day, Clark Clipper was lifted up on the stage by his admirers, he did not notice that Yes had positioned himself with some bellows underneath the planks . Yes had cunningly volunteered to help building the stage and had drilled various holes into the floor, big enough to encompass the nozzle of his bellows. He closely observed how Clark Clipper touched his stomach and took a deep breath to start his speech. And before Clipper could utter one single word, Yes produced a small upwards moving storm from underneath the stage. Clark’s flares shot high up in the air. He tried to push them down as best as he could, but his desperate gesticulations were of no avail.

The crowd was aghast and stared at his aggravated foot arches with abhorrence. They knew all about 'Wishbone Disease’. Ecstatica had taken care of publishing a very informative article in the local newspaper that day. “Never trust people with high arches!” someone screamed, and the crowd howled in unison.

Clipper, thunderstruck and flabbergasted, made an attempt at escaping from the stage, but, to his horror, he there was only a ladder leading down.

One member of the crowd shouted: “We want an explanation! Why did you lie about your true self? We don’t want liars!” The audience screamed in unison: “Yeeeaaahhh!!!” Even Yes could join in. Clark Clipper remained silent. He did not try to defend himself and seemed to have lost all his eloquence. Finally, in a fit of utter despair, he jumped off the stage. When he landed, his arches hit the ground with such impact that his feet touched the ground with their full surface, and he appeared to have the shape of an upside down T. He quickly bounced back, however, and ran off. His fall had caused an unidentifiable object to drop from underneath his shirt and onto the ground. Too eager to disappear, he left the peculiar instrument behind.

Yes picked the thing up and analysed it. It was an electronic reverberator with inbuilt speakers. Yes pressed 'play’ and Clipper’s voice became audible: “I welcome you all here today, a fine day indeed, because it marks another step on the way to thunderstormlessness.” Yes stopped the machine. This new piece of incriminating evidence generated doubts about Clipper’s anti-thunder policies. While the crowd was still mulling over this new insight, a town crier arrived with a letter that Clipper had just written and that he was to read out on Clipper’s behalf. It went thus:

“Dear crowd. I should have revealed my MMDAAS disorder to you earlier. But this does not a liar make! I have been honest in my political aspirations. And I want you to know that you all are very special to me. And damn it, I have a lot to offer, this is not fair. Please like me again; you will not regret it!”

The town crier folded the letter up and left. Only seconds later, another town crier with a second letter arrived. It was extremely short and merely said: “Hello? Will you reply soon?” A third crier showed up before the second one had had a chance to leave. He read out a third message that went: “Where have you gone?” The mayor now became annoyed with Clipper’s only too apparent impatience and demanding nature. He shouted: “No more messages please! This is more than enough. We shall have a referendum about what attitude to adopt towards Clark Clipper at three o’clock in the town house.”

Ecstatica and Yes, meanwhile, went to observe Clipper’s home, as they wanted to find out what he was up to. And, indeed, they had done well to peak into his house. He was innocently eating cheese on toast, while constructing a bomb. Ever so often, he glanced into a manual entitled “Fool-proof Instruction to Bomb Construction.” If no one intervened soon, he was certain to ravage the town house with everyone inside it. Already Clark was getting ready to leave, swallowing his last bit of cheese on toast. He emerged from the house only seconds later and directed his bouncy steps towards the town centre.

Yes had a wonderful idea as to how to scare the life out of Clipper, although he could not, in the heat of the moment, communicate it to Ecstatica. He went over to his market stall and swept all the miniature hammers into his big hands Then he ran after Clipper, who, so far, had been unaware of Yes’s presence, and emitted a long “yeeeeeaaaaahhhhh!!!!!” of attack. Clipper turned round and perceived the perpetrator of his imminent downfall. Yes threw his miniature hammers at Clipper, one by one. Each one of them produced a tiny but vicious lightning bolt and then returned back into Yes’s hands. He juggled hundreds of little hammers back and forth. Clipper screamed in agony and madly waved his gnarled hands about him, thus increasing his contact with the electricity. Defeated and electrocuted, Clark Clipper finally collapsed and looked into death’s eye.

Ecstatica skillfully removed the bomb from Clipper’s gnarled hands and disconnected it successfully. Her expertise with electricity came in handy for the tricky task. With Clipper disarmed, Ecstatica playfully took one of Yes’s hammers and threw it in the air. But nothing happened. The hammer fell down after a while, neither returning to her, nor creating a lightning bolt. That minute she believed that Yes was really Thor’s son. She threw herself into his electrifying arms. Yes sealed their everlasting and immutable love by wielding a multitude of hammers around them, which continued to revolve around them on their own accord, producing festive little sparks on their way.

Suddenly, a voice thundered from the heavens. It rumbled the following words: “Son, you have finally proved yourself worthy by killing Clark Clipper. Although he is no giant by all means, he threatened my status and my sheer existence. The “yes” curse shall be lifted from you and the heavens shall be awaiting your return.” The vocal rumbling was followed by a massive thunderstorm.

Yes opened his mouth for the first time after the curse had been lifted and out came the most poetic and nicely pronounced words that Ecstatica had ever heard. His vocabulary encompassed a wide range of words, some of which she had never heard or read before. He also spoke more than three thousand languages without the slightest foreign accent. He had the sweetest singing voice and possessed the ability to sing songs at the same time as composing their tune and inventing their vocals. His narrative capacities were extremely developed, and there were never any shortcomings in construction or content.

While Ecstatica was amazed and very pleased with the verbal aptitudes of her beloved Yes, she worried about his possible imminent departure from earth, to a place where she would not be able to follow him. He guessed her fears and assured her that now that he was in full control of his communication assets, he would love to stay on earth and exhaust all the possibilities it had to offer. He would finally be able to market his hammers properly, make money, and buy a fast racing car to remind him of his father’s carriage. And most importantly of all, he would never be able to leave Ecstatica behind.

And so it happened. Yes, whose real name was Bjor, set up a successful hammer business and Ecstatica enlarged her lightning conductor company. Together they also founded a well-organized electricity production firm. Bjor produced a multitude of lightning bolts from which Ecstatica conducted the electricity into a special storage unit. The loving couple had seven children, all named after their grandfather: Shor, Ror, Cor, Mor, Bor, Gor, and Hor. They all inherited Bjor’s electric assets and contributed to the family business when they grew up.

Whenever there was a thunderstorm in the area, the whole family lavished in its cracking fun, safely protected by Ecstatica’s personal conductors. And although Bjor was cured of his yes disorder, he still used its elongated version whenever he felt happy or excited, and his children adopted this paternal habit very early in their development. This is how, in times to come, Bjor’s descendants will always be easy to spot.