The Labors of Herkimer
A Myth for Our Time
by
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Up in the Agora The Barbarian approached the bait. Deeana, sitting serene below the rostrum, made no endeavor to rise until the monster stood directly over her. Then, as she stood, there came a sound of movement from the verge, three quick strides and the bully’s throat was secured in the clutch of Herkimer, the redeemer. Though Barber stood a full hand higher than Herk yet our intrepid champion, through the power in his torso and the stupefaction of his victim, was able to raise the devil from the earth and hold him some inches above the surface of the field, unable to move due to the anesthetic effect of the grip on the arteries of his gullet. "Now you will confess to all your lowdown behavior," Herk hissed in his ear. It is doubtful the scoundrel comprehended so near was he to being insensible, but Herk had foreseen this and, therefore, laid him on the turf, face down, drew his arms to the center of his spine and tied them together with a length of twine Deeana had carried for the purpose. Barber, of course, began to shout for his support crew, but Herk silenced him with a swift, but not strong, kick to the groin. "It will do you no good to shout for your band of thugs," Herk said. "They have been captured by our troops. The more noise you make the worse for you." He then lifted the squirming Barbarian to his shoulder and proceeded to climb the rocky cliff which rose to one side of the Agora. Once on the precipice our liberator, after activating his recorder, raised the captive high over his head, face above the gaping pit and made his demand in a firm voice. "Now, confess your sins against womanhood and purity." "What? What?" The felon’s reply was feeble. "You know what I mean. Your crime against the women of this college." "Rape? You mean rape?" "Louder," the prosecutor demanded. "Rape!" said Barber more clearly. "Yes, I have raped some women." "How many?" "A few." Herkimer moved nearer the edge of the precipice giving his captive a clearer view of the rocks below. "Many," came the immediate response. "I have raped many women." With that our prosecutor rested his case. Herkimer lowered the Barbarian to earth, untied his hands, and, leaving him gasping there, climbed quickly down onto the floor of the Agora. Then, taking Deeana by the elbow, he proceeded, with her, from the theater.
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About the Book
The Labors of Herkimer is the tale of a country boy from a small town in Iowa, Herkimer Hampton. When in adolescence, his mother dies he is shipped off, by his father, Chief Justice of the Iowa Supreme Court, to be ward of the judge’s cousin in New York City. While small in stature, Herkimer has developed great physical power through a program of weight lifting and karate. He has, also, a powerful sense of right and wrong, instilled by the judge. These two –physical and moral strength- give him the incentive to perform several acts of heroism, each echoing one of the feats of the legendary hero, Hercules. For instance: He foils a robbery attempt at a shop where he is a summer employee, emulating Hercules’ killing of the Nemean lion. In college he brings to judgment the campus bully –Hercules’ killing of the giant, Anteus. And later, as an employee of a Wall Street firm, he performs some remarkable deeds, very bountiful to his employers. In this age of cynicism a tale such as this must be presented as satire. Still, it is possible that such a young man does exist.
About the Author
Charles Blakemore is a country boy from Iowa who, after graduation from Dartmouth College, spent many years in Chicago and New York as an advertising man. His last job was that of Director of Creative Services Worldwide of one of America’s largest agencies. He started writing very early and continued to write through college- where he won several literary awards- and in the early years of his business career. He stopped writing fiction for many years because, with children to raise and educate, he could not give it the attention needed. When his children were grown he started writing once again and, in 1993, published his first novel, The Subjective Truth, the story of a lifelong friendship between two jazz musicians, one African-American, the other Caucasian. He has, more recently, published short stories in The Berkshire Review and Poems in The Raintown Review. He is currently at work on a novel about a man, forced into early retirement, who hits it lucky and embarks on a cross-country odyssey, pursued by an imaginary nemesis, reminiscent of Don Quixote or, perhaps, On The Road.