The Shepherds
Can’t think of a worse choice I have made. Maybe my judgement was clouded by the sympathy I had for him. A violent misfit in the group, I should have realized that I cannot shape a mind that is already warped by a devastating childhood. Abandoned by his mother Maria, who couldn’t handle a deaf baby and an abusive husband, Luther, who never thought twice, before raising his hands on the wailing infant. He was constantly yelling and blaming the child for his own failures. Finally, fate intervened, and one of his buddies suggested he leave the wretched child at a foster home to get rid of him.
The kids in his so called new home picked on him. Five years of speech therapy couldn’t get him to speak normally. He could read lips, but still wouldn’t actively participate in small talks. He was always ridiculed for his speech and was ashamed of it. This turned him into a loner. He did like one of the girls with him though, Jessie. She seemed pretty mean, but always kept her distance from him. This for him was a big consolation. At least she wouldn't make him feel bad about his speech like the others. One day she came up to him and told him, she kind of liked his voice. "It sounds angelic" was what he lip read. Never having heard his own voice, he was not sure how much of that was true. She suggested that he participate in the church choir. Seeing this as an opportunity to make a friend, he agreed. Teenagers and their raging hormones!
On Sunday, he went to church with Jessie and the rest of the kids. During the sermon, he simply got up and walked towards the choir who were passing the hymn sheets among them. They didn’t realize what he was doing there, but thought they'd play along and handed him a sheet as well and pointed the hymn they were about to sing. The conductor smiled, thinking that the kid would just be a little off key at most. This was not a long hymn anyways. The conductor motioned his baton for them to start. He had no idea what a tenor or soprano was, but that wasn't going to stop him. He sang with all the confidence in the world.
He was never surer of himself than at that very moment. He raised his head to look at the crowd. They were all pointing and laughing at him. Even Jessie. He was awful. Never ever had he been so embarrassed in his life. He tried to read their lips, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate on one particular person. He saw a mirage of his father in the middle of the crowd. Something in him snapped. He shut his eyes and screamed his lungs out for everyone to stop. That's when his dormant abilities came out. His booming voice shattered the glass murals and left everyone there dazed for a while like a concussive blast. They couldn’t hear anything for the next few minutes. This created mass panic and everyone wanted to get out of there. I was a witness to this chaos. But instead of the freak that everyone saw, I saw a potential.
He looked scared and dashed outside through one of the broken windows. It took me a while to compose myself and give him chase. I caught him in a nearby alley which he ran into. He was terrified. I tried calming him down, and told him not to worry. We walked out of the alley towards a diner where i got him a burger. I introduced myself as Brushback aka BB. I told him what he had was a gift, which not many people receive. I told him about my group of gifted vigilantes who were called the shepherds. I revealed to him, my intentions of training him to use that blaring voice of his, for the good of mankind. It didn’t take much persuasion on my part as he had already decided never to go back to his foster home. Especially since he felt betrayed and hurt by Jessie.
I took him to our sanctum - The Pen. I introduced him to the rest of the gang. Each individual was unique in his own way. Sven, code name - Robust was our muscle; Jamie, code name - fuse was the master of pyrotechnics; Nash, code name - Trojan had the ability to shape shift; Abe, code name - Buckshot, never missed a target. This comprised the primary team under me. Our training techniques were unconventional but necessary if you were to dedicate your life for the greater good.
It took us some time to realise how he had managed to do that kind of damage. We found out, it was only when he hit a certain pitch, was he able to do replicate the destruction he had caused. It was frustrating to get to that pitch, especially if one can’t hear himself. More often than not, he would walk out in the midst of the training annoyed at his trainers. Jamie warned me about him being a short fuse. I got the irony of the situation. But now that i look back, maybe Fuse wasn’t kidding. I trained him to exert just the right amount of strain to the larynx to produce the required pitch. He practised harder and harder each day as soon as he got it right. Focusing to project his voice in one direction rather than everywhere else, was the next challenge, which he mastered pretty quickly.
It was time to pick up a code name for him. Vibration, Sonic and Boom were thrown around as suggestions, but he choose to call himself 'Pitch'.
The kids in his so called new home picked on him. Five years of speech therapy couldn’t get him to speak normally. He could read lips, but still wouldn’t actively participate in small talks. He was always ridiculed for his speech and was ashamed of it. This turned him into a loner. He did like one of the girls with him though, Jessie. She seemed pretty mean, but always kept her distance from him. This for him was a big consolation. At least she wouldn't make him feel bad about his speech like the others. One day she came up to him and told him, she kind of liked his voice. "It sounds angelic" was what he lip read. Never having heard his own voice, he was not sure how much of that was true. She suggested that he participate in the church choir. Seeing this as an opportunity to make a friend, he agreed. Teenagers and their raging hormones!
On Sunday, he went to church with Jessie and the rest of the kids. During the sermon, he simply got up and walked towards the choir who were passing the hymn sheets among them. They didn’t realize what he was doing there, but thought they'd play along and handed him a sheet as well and pointed the hymn they were about to sing. The conductor smiled, thinking that the kid would just be a little off key at most. This was not a long hymn anyways. The conductor motioned his baton for them to start. He had no idea what a tenor or soprano was, but that wasn't going to stop him. He sang with all the confidence in the world.
He was never surer of himself than at that very moment. He raised his head to look at the crowd. They were all pointing and laughing at him. Even Jessie. He was awful. Never ever had he been so embarrassed in his life. He tried to read their lips, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate on one particular person. He saw a mirage of his father in the middle of the crowd. Something in him snapped. He shut his eyes and screamed his lungs out for everyone to stop. That's when his dormant abilities came out. His booming voice shattered the glass murals and left everyone there dazed for a while like a concussive blast. They couldn’t hear anything for the next few minutes. This created mass panic and everyone wanted to get out of there. I was a witness to this chaos. But instead of the freak that everyone saw, I saw a potential.
He looked scared and dashed outside through one of the broken windows. It took me a while to compose myself and give him chase. I caught him in a nearby alley which he ran into. He was terrified. I tried calming him down, and told him not to worry. We walked out of the alley towards a diner where i got him a burger. I introduced myself as Brushback aka BB. I told him what he had was a gift, which not many people receive. I told him about my group of gifted vigilantes who were called the shepherds. I revealed to him, my intentions of training him to use that blaring voice of his, for the good of mankind. It didn’t take much persuasion on my part as he had already decided never to go back to his foster home. Especially since he felt betrayed and hurt by Jessie.
I took him to our sanctum - The Pen. I introduced him to the rest of the gang. Each individual was unique in his own way. Sven, code name - Robust was our muscle; Jamie, code name - fuse was the master of pyrotechnics; Nash, code name - Trojan had the ability to shape shift; Abe, code name - Buckshot, never missed a target. This comprised the primary team under me. Our training techniques were unconventional but necessary if you were to dedicate your life for the greater good.
It took us some time to realise how he had managed to do that kind of damage. We found out, it was only when he hit a certain pitch, was he able to do replicate the destruction he had caused. It was frustrating to get to that pitch, especially if one can’t hear himself. More often than not, he would walk out in the midst of the training annoyed at his trainers. Jamie warned me about him being a short fuse. I got the irony of the situation. But now that i look back, maybe Fuse wasn’t kidding. I trained him to exert just the right amount of strain to the larynx to produce the required pitch. He practised harder and harder each day as soon as he got it right. Focusing to project his voice in one direction rather than everywhere else, was the next challenge, which he mastered pretty quickly.
It was time to pick up a code name for him. Vibration, Sonic and Boom were thrown around as suggestions, but he choose to call himself 'Pitch'.