KAW-7 (non-entry): If Only to Shine as Bright
By Hush….an alias

Preface: Inspired by @Norton X & @Hypocrites from their responses to my first non-entry "To be Made Useful", I decided to whip this second non-entry out based upon their unintentional suggestion.


Was it too much to ask to be simply recognized for what he was? To be valued, cared for, longed for and sought after. Instead like so many others, the vast majority really, he was only considered common and of less value. So typical in fact that unlike those exceptional few he would never be remembered by a given name. Just another one, thought of as inconsequential, and so before we let him slip away into the oblivion of obscurity, just to be kind, let us give him a common name. Bob.

Bob never felt as though he was less, yet was still regarded as such. To the inexperienced eye he seemed like any other, yet he was not. Truth be told, Bob was much like any other in that the fact of the matter was, it was only the rare few that would be recognized as something more. Bob was not stupid, yet he was not brilliant. Like the inconsistent and unfocussed existence he’d lead, he had less clarity. His flaws were not considered marks of character making him unique and special, yet instead judged and graded as though being less than perfect. Those common traits in that they were not really failings, would find the summation of Bob’s life more fractured up than multifaceted.

Like many Bob aspired to great things. Those things where you would be noticed and thus acknowledged for what you are, and because of that, considered special. He did not necessarily dream of being the sole focus of attention, just the minimal amount that we all want wherein we are desired and cared for. The so-called "15-minutes of fame" that everyone was promised.

To embrace an actress’s wrist perhaps or light upon her hand as she would walk the red carpet at an awards ceremony. Possibly nothing more than to caress a wealthy woman’s neck gently, or even something as sedate as simply modeling naked and alone just once to grace an advertisement or poster setting the standard upon which a company might be judged by. Bob did not need to be praised and acclaimed for all time, nor even to be the focus of attention and desire be it by many or even one. Just simply to be valued, protected and cherished. To perhaps escort a woman as ideal as he wished he was when she would go out, even if for just one time.

Instead, Bob would have a mundane and perhaps even less than average existence like so many others. His entire life nothing more than fractured up moments of drudgery and service. He would never be recognized as anything special. Simply one of a billion gradually ground down by petty things to never be of consequence, or considered of any value. Just one of the multitude that would serve without acclaim, never making any difference worth recognizing by others and worst of all, himself.

The first job Bob had was at some grimy back alley shop. The monotonous labor he was tasked with being to grind gears on an old manual machine. Day in and day out, tooth after tooth he would slowly remove just the most minimal amount of material to finish them before shipment. How such a place or machine acquired the work was as pathetic as the job itself. Quite simply it was one of the few places left in that dying trade that had the specific equipment required. Yet it was a job, and as grudgingly as Bob did the work, that small shop was grateful for the business.

The gears went in a specific helicopter’s transmission. That final dusting of labor finishing the gears to such a point that wherein the typical gear would fail hovering for such extended periods, that final grind allowed them to stay aloft an extra thirty minutes. So the U.S. Coast Guard used them for their prolonged hovering over sinking ships, recovering those people foundering at sea. That thirty minutes making the difference in hundreds if not thousands of lives potentially lost. Yet as theirs were saved, Bob’s languished in obscurity.

The next job that Bob found himself at was in a lab grinding lenses. Day in and day out he’d slowly grind the glass to shape to such a degree of precision that their cost far exceed their demand. Four of those lenses found their way into a sniper’s rifle scope. That scope due to its accuracy allowed for a shot to be made at a stunning 1,975 yards. That shot "taking out" a terrorist who held in front of him some obscure politician as a shield, and that shot would end up being the last bullet fired, in the last battle of the last war. The politician to go on and change the world for the better ending all wars, yet Bob’s work would never be remembered.

Perhaps the greatest insult to Bob’s inconsequential work was when he was tasked at the same company to coat lenses. The diamond hard coating making them durable to a point that they could survive in the harshest of environments, that being deep space. So he coated the lenses, they mounted them in some deep space probe to have it then shot into the void. Cast out into the great nothing to photograph this lifeless moon or that unexplored planet. For decades it took its photos and then sent them back, yet in the centuries to come when they could actually be explored expanding human knowledge and colonization, no one would think of Bob, his contribution as forgotten and unconsidered as the balance of his existence.

As disappointing as it may be, Bob’s closest brush or connection to the life he desired happened when he was at a mass production jewelry manufacturer. Personally, he felt their quality of product was on par with that you might find in a Cracker Jack box if not for the fact that they used real precious metals and gemstones. Work wise it was nothing however like the high quality and exceptional results he had generated before. Never the less it was on the right track, just at the bottom end of it.

So it went that an inexpensive almost laughable piece that he had put his heart into, a wire thin ring of silver with a tiny diamond chip set in it, was purchased by a dirt poor farmer to give to the girl he loved and desired. So taken by his thoughtfulness costing him months of hard labor compared to the average man’s couple of hours, then and there in the middle of a freshly turned field she made love to him. Their passionate though emotional sex consummated with tears of joy, and though they didn’t realize it at the moment, proof of that moment was to come in nine months time.

It didn’t matter to the young couple however as from that day forward their days would be spent in the fields, and their nights in passionate loving embraces for the balance of all time. What did matter to her though was how that ring was lost somewhere in that field a mere month later. She was heartbroken knowing what he had sacrificed to give it to her. So once more he sacrificed as they spent an entire day together sifting through the soil with their now bare fingers to never find it.

Months later the real treasure in the young couples life would make his way into the world, and in time as they raised him up lovingly and wisely, unlike Bob, this young man would truly shine. Like Bob however, the young man would have his moments of questioning his own value and worth. Such times he’d return home to the small farm and his loving parents for support, and each time they’d build him back up. This time however it wasn’t helping.

He had seen how taxing it had been on his parents to send him to school so long. Not just any old education, yet an expensive one to be a surgeon in that it fascinated him and his natural empathy, not arrogant pride like so many drove him to do well and heal where others couldn’t. It had been a tough row to hoe however, not only for his parents, yet also him in that the studies were grueling. Such times when there was nothing to be said, no answer to be found easily, his parents always had a solution.

"Tough row to hoe, well then better get to it," wherein they would hand him an actual hoe and point him out into the field for some hard labor to help clear his mind. This day however would yield more than a few meager crops in the fall.

As he toiled away a neighbor girl around his age saw someone new tilling away. Always anxious to meet a new friend in this lonely environment, she didn’t hesitate a second to walk over and say hello. He was stunned. Barefoot, tanned and dressed like something out of a classic farmer’s daughter joke, he could only stand there frozen in place jaw slack finding her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her beaming smile and friendly talk quickly had his concerns miles away, and over the next three hours they just stood there getting to know each other.

His parents had watched from afar for quite some time. Eventually hand in hand they made their way out to the young couple to meet their son’s new friend, and instantly they could see the bond the two had already made. Just about then the young man blushing turned over a dirt clod with his foot embarrassed, and there under it was the very ring that had been lost in the very field where he had come to be made because of it.

He had heard the story many times instantly recognizing it and quickly exclaiming "Mom, your ring!"

After a brief moment of elation, his Mother holding it just one more time to remember the day, she handed it back to him and said, "it’s yours now, do with it what you will."

With that she just glanced to the young lady beside him as she gripped her husband’s hand pulling him away to walk back to the house beaming at one another, wondering what seeds they had just planted.

As you have probably guessed, the young man instantly gave the ring to the young lady telling her the story, and though they would not consummate their union as quickly as his parents had, their love was just as strong and instantaneous. From that day forward that gal was the crown jewel in his life. The rock to lean against in times of trouble, the cooling rain upon a sun ravaged spirit, the inspiration to give him strength to accomplish anything, and as you might expect, she never for the balance of her life took off that ring.

Because of that bond sealed by that pitiful ring, the young man finished school becoming a very accomplished and renowned surgeon. So would come the day when that young man would save one older with his well-honed skills. Coincidentally with a scalpel sharpened to a perfect edge from another of Bob’s mundane and lackluster jobs…and that older man, the crisis unimportant to our telling here, would go on to save the world.

By that time Bob was used up. A lifetime of seemingly inconsequential drudgery leaving him bitter, chipped away at and ground down. So Bob would ultimately pass onto oblivion, nameless and forgotten. Just one of the many whom never seem to ever be recognized for what they are or have accomplished. Just another never having attained their dream, and believing deep in their heart that they never made a difference having not shone as brightly.

So here’s to Bob, his contributions noted.

Hush….an alias


Bob as diamonds in Kimberlite:


Bob as diamonds in the rough:


Bob on a diamond impregnated gear grinding wheel:


Bob utilized in shaping lenses:


Bob coating a lens:


The last of Bob a tiny diamond chip in a ring:


How Bob always dreamed of being:

 

At first I was thinking of a bulb or light of some sort. Then it became obvious it was some sort of grinding mechanism. But never, never did I imagine a diamond of any type. Well done, very well written. Very romantic. I just drank the words, they flowed so well.

What a beautiful love story mingled thru Bob's unsatisfied life, yet unbeknownst to him, a life of great accomplishments.

Bravo!

 

Competition "half-way/2-weeks left" bump.

Hush....an alias

 

There's a lot of emotion to be experienced in this story. Shows the skill of the author, especially when it's a text that is mostly personification for a mass of rock. This story has taught me to be nice to diamonds and precious stones. Now I'm going to take out all those jewels I've kept imprisoned in the hidden safe and sit them with me on the couch to watch a movie!

 

Watch out! Norton X has put on his comedian hat this morning. LOL

 

It's good, and I doubt I'd ever think of writing something like this. Fairly interesting to see what @Hush meant by the theme, and especially to see all the other stories that were based on it, yet at times differed quite a bit.

 

Bump for Reading Phase grouping.

Hush....an alias

 

21 hours left till voting bump for competition grouping!

Hush....an alias

 

This was great.

But my favorite part of all is that you named him Bob! This is such a great name, and also an inside joke between my guy and I.

Whenever one of us asks what something is called, or who that actor /actress was, or just about anything, and we don't know the answer... It is always, "that's Bob."

Good writing. I hope that you will be entering the next CAW.