The Bravest, the Hundreds and the Fools

The town had changed dramatically once the Bravest arrived. One could not simply call it a riot, neither a cleansing. The Bravest preferred the term Metamorphosis, a term that allegedly benefitted both the town and the eclectic Hundreds.

Robert knew he was the 100th. He kept getting reminded with each headline on the news, all so different yet so similar; Global warming, the war in Europe, a hailstorm in a neighbouring place and then the capture of the Hundreds, with yet another one fleeing the city. Each time he stared at the white sealed envelope, Robert was reminded that he was not ‘Rob’ or ‘Mr Simons’, he was simply “The 100th”. Contrary to popular belief, the 100th thought that objects, and in this case the envelope, do have an effect on people. Anyone who says otherwise never held a stack of dollars in their hands. After all, had he not chosen certain past affairs, he wouldn’t be staring at the envelope right now.

A month had passed since the mission of the Bravest. The 100th remembered how they came about,with their glorious shipment and extraordinary presentations on how the Hundreds were chosen for this one in a million cause. They didn’t give the Hundreds a choice to join, but they didn’t need to. Ultimately, their position became clear in the Bravest’s plan. That day, the Bravest allowed for one simple root of evil to begin. Comparison. They compared the Hundreds to the Fools, their words spreading faster than wildfire through waves of committed crowds, echoing that the Hundreds were better, stronger, smarter than the Fools. Most importantly, the Bravest acknowledged what everyone knew, but nobody wanted to admit; The Hundreds were enormously richer. Ergo, the eclectic rich Hundreds of the small town of Nomisma would save the town once and for all. That is why the 100th felt both a sense of fear and yet a sense of responsibility to the Bravest. He was the last in line, but not the least in spirit. He was the missing piece of the puzzle, the puzzle of the 100 Millionnaires that the town inhibited. And for that, he was determined to stand together with 99 others and improve the town together with the Bravest. For all that mattered, the speech of the Bravest reminded the Hundreds that to be chosen and respected was the greatest thing in the world.

The plan was the following: each week, five out of the Hundreds would be chosen, picked up from their homes and brought safely to the Bravest premises. The journey would last about 2 to 3 hours, and the Hundreds would spend six months with the Bravest. Once complete, the Hundreds would receive an award and a complete and utter breakdown of all activities, wins and lessons they learned from the Bravest. They even had a common saying, a reminder of the mission. “Repeat after me”, Leader Z said. And so the 100th began, from mirror to mirror, repeating and reciting:

“I am the choice of the Bravest. I am the answer to the Fools. They chose me for a reason and guided I will be.”

They say time is of the essence, and the time had come for the 100th to join the Bravest. The 100th lingered in bed a little bit longer, appreciated the satin sheets of convenience. He had nothing to fear and nothing to lose. The neon light flickered outside his window bringing him back to reality and the mission. And so Robert stood up, wore his navy blue suit with the stripes and fixed his hair. He wrapped his Rolex around his wrist, sprayed the cologne his wife bought for him just for the occasion and tied up his shoes. He stood tall and proud, committed as he felt towards the Town. A few months in the premises and he would be back, back to his business of selling and marketing homes for folks that deserved it. One last affirmation and he was out the door:

“I am the choice of the Bravest. I am the answer to the Fools. They chose me for a reason and guided I will be.”

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I am not scared. Only Fools are scared. As far as I am concerned, we are all on a mission, and as long as we collaborate with the Bravest, our town will see great change.

I open the front door leading to the pathway of the front garden. I can hear the helicopter engine from miles away. I stroll down the long pathway of peonies of blue and white, and stop to look at them in awe. The Gardener really outdid himself today. I pass the tennis courts on the left, walk down on to the main entrance door. Two of the Bravest are waiting for me in black tuxedos. They are wearing hats that hide their faces and masks that cover their mouths. I become apprehensive. The Bravest never hid their faces before. I go about to greet them, I have the speech ready to be uttered from every corner of my mouth. As I am about to speak, the Bravest shush me, their palms in front of me. It seems like a good time to shut my mouth now. Two hands are escorting me to the other side, ambiguity stares at me right in the face, the engine is on and the Bravest are boarded, but not the Bravest I know. These creatures are not hiding behind masks or hats or tuxedos, these are despicable creatures, green and white and all the colours of the rainbow, and the helicopter doesn’t resemble a helicopter anymore, now it just looks extraterrestrial, like a spaceship that has just landed on my front door, and the speech just doesn’t make sense and I don’t know what emotion to feel first. In a manner of courage I slowly accept my fate, the aliens are taking their revenge on me, on all of us Hundreds that have millions. I enter the portals of the unknown.

"Any last words?", the Bravest ask.

But before Robert can open his mouth, a wavering wave of heat, which Robert soon realized is not the humidity in the atmosphere, fills his lungs and closes his mouth forever.