Freak the Mighty (15 page)

Was King Arthur a true historical figure or is he a legendary character?

No one can say for certain, but we do know that people have been telling stories about
King Arthur for the last thousand years. He first appears in ancient Celtic and Welsh
mythology as well as in several chronicles of early British history, including Geoffrey
of Monmouth’s
History of the Kings of Britain
, written in the 12
^th
century. Arthur’s legend was embellished and popularized in medieval French literature
and then brought to English-speaking audiences in the late 1400s as
Le Morte D’Arthur
, or “The Death of Arthur,” by Sir Thomas Malory. Since then, there have been numerous
retellings of King Arthur’s story, from the Victorian-era poetry of Alfred Lord Tennyson
to T.H. White’s modern classic
The Once and Future King
(which popularized the story of “the sword in the stone”), to Marion Zimmer Bradley’s
novel
The Mists of Avalon
(which is written from the point of view of the women in the legends). King Arthur’s
story has also been told in the 1960s Broadway musical,
Camelot
, and in several recent movies.

Who were the Knights of the Round Table?

According to legend, the one-hundred-fifty-seat Round Table was given to King Arthur
as a wedding gift by King Leodegrance, the father of his bride-to-be, Guinevere, along
with one hundred knights. With the help of his adviser, the wizard Merlin, Arthur
selected fifty more knights to join the company, based on their merit and courage.
Among the most
well-known knights of legend are Sir Lancelot, Sir Gawain, and Sir Galahad. While
the knights certainly had their share of adventures, they didn’t always get along
so well. Lancelot, considered the world’s greatest knight, was also in love with Queen
Guinevere, which ultimately led to the end of his friendship with King Arthur. Gawain
was believed to be a model of chivalry and bravery, but when his brothers were accidentally
killed by Lancelot, Gawain turned against his former friend and became his worst enemy.
According to some versions of the legend, Gawain’s hatred of Lancelot eventually led
to the downfall of Arthur’s kingdom. Galahad, on the other hand, was truly a perfect
knight; in fact, he was so pure and good that he succeeded in completing the quest
that all the other knights failed, the search for the Holy Grail.

Was the Fair Guinevere really that fair?

Guinevere was reputed to be the most beautiful woman in the land, so it’s easy to
understand why Lancelot fell for her. When she was abducted, it was Lancelot who rescued
her. Although she was married to King Arthur at the time, she fell in love with Lancelot
too. (He was the greatest knight in the world, after all — and in some retellings
of the legend, Arthur is much older than Guinevere, while Lancelot is closer to her
age.) Arthur was so upset he tried to have her executed, but Lancelot saved her again.
Ultimately, Arthur reconciled with Guinevere but he never forgave Lancelot.

Not everyone can be Freak the Mighty, slaying dragons and fools and walking high above
the world, but if you follow the steps below, you just might turn your everyday life
into the stuff of legend.

1. Find a mighty steed. In the days of yore, knights and other heroes used horses
for this purpose. If you can’t find a tall friend to carry you around, a bike, a skateboard,
or a really big dog will do.

2. Dress to quest. Armor isn’t a practical option these days as it’s actually very
heavy. (This is why the knights needed mighty steeds to get around — it was too hard
to walk with the armor on!) There are plenty of good alternatives, such as bike helmets,
shin-guards, and elbow-pads. Cargo pants are also ideal for questing; their multiple
pockets eliminate the need to attach saddlebags to your mighty steed.

3. Swear an oath of fealty. Fealty is basically loyalty with an “f.” Whenever you
embark on a quest with anyone, you must promise to stick together no matter what.
That way, if anything goes wrong, neither of you is allowed to cut and run.

4. Choose a quest. Whether you want to rescue a damsel in distress or search for lost
treasure (many people believe the real Holy Grail is still missing, by the way), there’s
an adventure around every corner if you know how to look for it.

Maxwell Kane’s story doesn’t end with
Freak the Mighty
. Read about his continuing adventures in this exciting preview from Rodman Philbrick’s
sequel,
Max the Mighty
.

It started like this. One day after school gets out I’m kind of moping along, minding
my own business. Taking the long way home because there’s nothing to do when I get
there, so why hurry? I’m making sure not to step on any cracks and my brain is telling
me don’t be such a moron, it doesn’t matter about cracks in the sidewalk. But my feet
won’t listen and they keep being careful, because you never know about cracks, do
you?

Get a life,
my brain says.

That’s when I hear the girl screaming. She’s not saying anything, just screaming so
loud it puts a shiver in my bones. It makes me freeze up and not move and wish I could
be invisible, or at least small. It makes me wish I could turn my ears off like you
switch off a radio, and not hear anything. Most of all I want to run away and hide
somewhere safe.

Because you can tell from the scream that somebody wants to hurt her.

The girl keeps screaming and my brain is going,
Mind your own business. Somebody else can help her, not you.

But there isn’t anybody else and the screaming doesn’t stop and before I know it my
stupid feet start running over the cracks in the sidewalk, taking me closer and closer
to trouble.

When I get to the corner of the block, I see this gang-banger
messing around in the middle of the street. He’s strutting around with his hands behind
his back and he’s got this sneering expression like he knows a really funny joke and
you’ll never get it.

“Keep screaming,” he says. “Nobody cares.”

The scream is coming from this skinny red-haired girl who’s maybe eleven or twelve
years old. She’s got bright green eyes and freckles and her clothes are about two
sizes too big and she’s screaming bloody murder even though nobody’s touching her.

“You big creep!” shouts the red-haired girl. “Lunk head! Bug brain! Give it back!”

“Louder,” the gang-banger says. “I can’t hear you.”

Then he catches sight of me, and his grin gets wider and wider. “What do you know,”
he says. “Dinosaur boy to the rescue. I thought I felt the ground shaking.”

Before I can stop my mouth from saying something stupid it goes, “Huh?”

The gang-banger loves it. “Huh?” he says. “Is that dinosaur talk for ‘I’m retarded’?”

That’s when I notice the skinny red-haired girl is staring at me. It’s not a friendly
kind of stare — she probably thinks I’m one of the gang-bangers, or maybe a retard
like he says.

I go, “Leave her alone.”

“Take it easy, Maxi Pad. We’re just having a little fun,” the gang-banger says. “You
got a problem with that?”

The girl shakes her fist at him and goes, “Give it back or else.”

The gang-banger looks at her puny little fist and smirks.
“Oooh,” he goes. “You gonna hit me?” Then he dances around, taunting her, and I see
he’s got hold of this small green backpack. A girl’s backpack, for carrying school
stuff.

“Give it back to her,” I say.

He crosses his eyes and makes an oink-oink noise. “Pig boy,” he says. “You better
go home to Granny.”

I try to grab it but he darts away, his teeth flashing white because he’s having such
a good time. “Moron Max,” he laughs. “You’re scaring me.”

The red-haired girl makes a move but she can’t touch him.

“Bookworm, bookworm, ugly little bookworm,” he chants.

“Shut up!” she says. She’s so mad her eyes look like they’re full of green electricity.

“Worm girl!” the gang-banger cackles. “Whattaya have in here, worm food? Is that it?”

He opens up her backpack and roots around inside with this totally mean look on his
face. Then he goes, “Whoa! What have we here?”

He pulls out a couple of paperback books and tosses them over his shoulder. Pages
scatter and blow away like white leaves.

“Oh, you’re real tough,” the girl says. “You can beat up a book. I bet you never even
read
a book.”

Then the gang-banger whistles and pulls something else out of the backpack. A hard
plastic helmet with a light on the front, like miners wear so they can see in the
dark.

“Don’t you dare touch that!” the girl shouts. Then she goes mental and tries to grab
the miner’s helmet.

He grins and ducks away. “Finders keepers!” he shouts. “Losers weepers!”

But Worm isn’t weeping, she’s going nuts. Jumping up and trying to grab the helmet.
He keeps dancing away, laughing in her face.

I wait my chance, and when he isn’t looking I get behind him and lift the helmet off
his head.

“Hey!” he bellows.

But I hold the miner’s helmet up high and he can’t reach it.

“Gimme that,” he says, “or I’ll punch your lights out.”

“Try it.”

The gang-banger curls up his fists and sets up on his feet like a boxer and for a
moment I think he really is going to punch me. Then he looks at the girl and he looks
at me and he spits on the ground by my feet.

“Who cares about your stupid junk,” he says, and saunters away like he couldn’t care
less. Like he’s the coolest dude in the whole wide world because he ripped up a book
and scared an eleven-year-old girl.

The girl has eyes like green laser beams and this fierce look on her freckled face,
like she thinks I’m the enemy, too.

I go, “Here,” and give her the helmet.

The way she holds it in her hands, you know it means something special.

“What’s it for?” I ask.

“None of your business,” she says. And then she hugs the scratched-up old helmet to
her chest and runs away, her thick red hair flying up like it wants to wave good-bye.

My brain didn’t know it yet, but that’s when trouble really started, the day I met
a girl called Worm.

Copyright © 1998 by Rodman Philbrick.