How Badges Are Earned

                                            How Badges Are Earned


     “Fredrick. Fredrick? Wake up, dear. Wake up.”
     Carl groaned. His bones ached, yet his countenance was quizzical. That voice…. It sounded so familiar…. Again it spoke, gentle, yet more urgently this time.
     “Carl. Wake up. Get up, Carl.”
     Then, quite suddenly, the voice changed. Whereas the inflections uttered were fabricated and wizened beforehand, they now rode on a smooth and eager tone. The speaker sounded younger, concerned, and agitated.
     “Mr. Fredricksen! Mr. Fredricksen! Come on. Get up!”
     Carl blinked. Someone was standing directly above him – a young, pudgy boy of ten, his explorer’s cap astray… and his brows creased in a tight furrow. A long, pronounced groan seeped through Carl’s lips. For a moment he had thought that his beloved wife was by his side once again. Of course it wasn’t Ellie….

     The young lad was now in a state of sheer panic, his sense of urgency at a point where he was not only yelling at Carl, but also pulling and pushing him.
     “Stop it, Russell. Stop it!” Carl retaliated, waving a hand in front of the boy to halt his continuous tugging, and now fully aware that he was lying on his side in the middle of a dense jungle. The air was heavy with the smell of fresh vegetation and wildlife, and Carl’s vision was equally as thick… and blurry. Frantically, he groped about for his glasses, finally locating them next to his knees. It took but a second to put them on, but within that second… Carl wished that he hadn’t.
     Glancing up at Russell, he could see that the boy’s face was dirtied and bruised, and that his diminutive hands were soaked with blood. Carl made to heave himself up… and instantly let out a gasp of pain before falling to the ground. What was wrong? He twisted to the left. The same burning sensation clutched at his side. A stretch of the arm; a grip of the leg. It was no use. Each time he was greeted with an agonizing throe in his right side, biting him, gnawing at him….
     Presently he realized that his side was also covered in blood; Russell must have gotten it all over his hands in an attempt to pull him up.

     “Please, Mr. Fredricksen, you have to get up!! You’ve got to!” Russell pleaded.
     “Leave me be, Russell,” Carl sighed. “Leave me be.”
     “No, Mr. Fredricksen! Get up!”
     “Let me be, Russell!”
     “No!!”
     The boy was adamant, but Carl had had enough….
     “LISTEN TO ME, Russell!! I am too old, do you understand?! I’ve lived my life dutifully enough… now let me live it out in peace. Don’t bother with me. Find some other impotent soul who can help you earn your badge.”
     It was then that Russell’s expression changed from one of worry to one of perplexity. He stared at Carl, all sign of impatience dissolved by his comrade’s response.
     “Badge?”
     “Yes, your badge! Those things that you wear around your ne-.”
     “You think that this is about my… badge?” Russell interrupted. Carl simply stared, his breathing a bit heavier than it was before. “We don’t just assist the elderly for our badge, Mr. Fredricksen. We do it because… because we want to. You… you see this one, Mr. Fredricksen?” Russell said, pointing to a white badge with a purple paw print embedded in the center of it. “I never would have earned that if I hadn’t WANTED any puppy kisses after I bandaged that dog’s leg. And… and this one right, umm… right here?” he mumbled, pointing at yet another badge, this time with an image of a flower on it. “I don’t like helping out my mom in the garden, Sir, but she sure was happy when we finished planting those daffodils.”
     Carl swallowed.
     “John 15:13, Sir. John 15:13. I realize now that it’s not about the things we earn that matter, but the people who’s face we put a smile on. It’s about honesty, and compassion, and… and… and persevoisance.”
     “Perseverance,” Carl said, his eyes now beginning to water.
     “Yes, Sir. Perseverance. I don’t want a badge anymore. I want you to be O.K. I don’t care about the badge. I care about you…. Now come on! Get up!”
     And Carl did get up. His knees began to buckle, but Russell kept him steady; his side was strained and ached, but the boy urged him on; and when he threatened once more to give up his efforts, Russell once more refused to leave him and admit defeat.
     Eventually, Carl found his footing, just as the sound of a tirade of enraged and nettled dogs could be heard in the distance. The two travelers fled, Russell always leading the way, ensuring that his partner never tripped over a stray rock or a fallen log….


                                                          ~ End~