" I F   Y O U   K I C K
T H E   P E R S O N   I N
T H E   P A N T S
R E S P O N S I B L E   F O R
Y O U R   T R O U B L E,
Y O U   W I L L   N O T
S I T   D O W N
F O R   A
M O N T H "
Unknown

" M A G I C   I S
B E L I E V I N G   I N
Y O U R S E L F,
I F   Y O U   C A N   D O
T H A T,   Y O U   C A N
M A K E
A N Y T H I N G
H A P P E N "
Goethe

" A L L   T H A T
W E   A R E
I S   T H E
R E S U L T  O F
W H A T
W E
H A V E
T H O U G H T "
Buddha

This essay resulted from my participation in a weeklong Deep Writing workshop by Eric Maisel. Deep writing was a meander through my creative landscape without a map or a destination until I arrived at something that was meaningful for me. I found a character who could play the central role in children's literature embracing life values.
____________________________________________________________


Maximilian was an only child. He was 15 years old and very short. He had not grown like other teenagers his age.

His parents had named him after a famous actor and an emperor. They thought that with such a famous name, Maximilian was sure to do great things.

"Our son is a famous brain surgeon," they hoped to say one day.

Maximilian usually threw up when dissecting frogs in biology class.

He dreamed instead of being a famous basketball player.

"The net is too high," he complained. The coach nodded and said he could be the towel boy.

He dreamed about playing the booming bass drum in the school marching band.

The drum bounced on the ground like a basketball when he marched with it strapped to his little chest. "Perhaps the piccolo," the band director said to Maximilian.

"Do you have any really small bass drums?" he asked hopefully.

He dreamed about being taller. I wish I could magically make myself taller, he thought. If only I were a magician.

If I were a magician, I could make other things better too. I could make my school marks better. I would not have to study.

Maximilian found a book on magic in the school library. He took it home and studied it. He hid it inside his other books and studied it in Biology, Math, History and English and finally, even at recess. He wanted to be magician.

"It is so good to see you studying," all his teachers said.

"I have to study," he said to his parents when they asked him to take out the garbage.

They looked at each other proudly and took the garbage out themselves.

"He has to study," they said to each other. "Maximilian is going to be a famous brain surgeon."

Meanwhile, Maximilian did not like being called Maximilian very much. As he handed out towels in the locker room, the basketball players would look down at him and say, "Thanks a million, Maximilian" and everyone would laugh.

"I want to be called Max, for short," he said one day.

"Okay," they said. "We will call you Max for Short, or better yet, we will shorten it to Short because you are." Everyone laughed.

It backfired on him, just like his magic tricks. He was still untying the knots from in his good necktie after trying the disappearing knot trick.

He was feeling very disappointed. He was never going to be a famous basketball player, or play the big bass drum in the marching band, his tricks were not working very well, and his marks had actually gotten worse despite how hard he had been studying magic.

"How are you ever going to become a famous brain surgeon," his parents said after looking at his report card. "Think about it while you take out the garbage."

The girls giggled when he walked into class. He knew they were talking about him, probably about being called Short by the whole basketball team.

As he walked home one day, he saw two people standing on the sidewalk ahead of him. He could see their lips moving but he could not hear what they were saying.

They are probably talking about me too, he thought. Everyone knows by now that the whole basketball team calls me Short.

I wish they would say good things about me. Like how I will become a famous basketball player even if I am short.

"Maximilian is going to be a famous short basketball player," he imagined one of them saying.

"Yes, there is no doubt about it," he imagined the other one saying.

I wish they were having that conversation, he thought as he came closer to them. He could just begin to hear their voices.

" . . . famous short basketball player,"

"Yes, there is no doubt about it," he heard more clearly now.

Maximilian was shocked. They were having the very conversation he had imagined.

I wonder, he thought. Did I do that just by thinking hard about it? Do I really have magical powers? Studying magic must be working.

I will try it out on my parents when I get home.

"You don't have to take out the garbage tonight," his Dad said.

"Better go study your magic," his Mother said.

Maximilian smiled.

I will try it out on a teacher too.

"We will have recess now instead of dissecting frogs," she said.

Maximilian was very proud of himself.

"A really small bass drum. What a great idea," said the band director.

"I really like short boys," said Susie, a very popular girl, as he walked into class.

It is time to try it out on the basketball team, he thought.

"Thank you very much for the towel. You are the best, the maximum, the Max. One in a million, Maximilian. Three cheers for the Maximilian," he heard them say and then whistle and cheer loudly.

Maybe I overdid it a little bit, he thought. I did not score the winning basket. I just handed out the towels.

Maximilian was after all, a responsible boy. "I just want to make things better," he said to himself.

What can I do to make things better with my magical thinking, he wondered.

The basketball team had lost several games in a row. The coach and players were very unhappy. There were no more whistles and cheers in the locker room. They were all mad at each other.

"It's your fault, you are always missing the basket."

"It's your fault, you never guard your man."

"It's your fault, you are always making bad passes."

"It's your fault, you never play hard enough."

"It is the coach's fault, he is always yelling at us."

They will never win if they are always blaming each other for losing, Maximilian thought.

Maybe I will try my magical thinking again with the basketball team.

"I do take bad shots sometimes, and I can make things better if I take more careful aim."

"I guard my man most of the time, but I do get careless and he makes baskets. I can make things better if I am more careful."

"I make some bad passes, and I can make things better by not taking foolish chances."

"I play hard until I get tired and then I get lazy. I can make things better by doing my part even when I am tired."

"I do yell at you a lot and I often forget to say encouraging things. I can make things better by remembering to tell you when I think you are playing well."

The locker room was quiet. There was no more blaming of each other for losing. Each person was thinking about what he had to do to make things better for the next game.

Meanwhile, Maximilian liked to shoot the wet, wadded up towels at a laundry basket. He imagined that he was a famous basketball player. Later, he would pick up the towels and drop them in the basket. He had just launched a towel with a long jump shot from the far corner of the locker room.

"You are a lousy shot, Maximilian," one player said.

"You never make a basket, you always miss," said another.

The other players hooted.

Plop! The towel landed right in the center of the laundry basket.

He pretended not to be surprised. "Never say always or never if you want things to be better," he said. "And what about those encouraging words you want to hear?"

The players looked at each other, feeling a little embarrassed.

"You are right," they said. "We have learned our lesson. Thanks a million, Maximilian."

He smiled brightly. He had made things better.





© C O P Y R I G H T   2 0 0 5.  Gary Holdgrafer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.