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Jeremy 2.0
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Dayton, Ohio
Dec 2002
time: 00:25
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The man who invented the wheel slumped in a corner of a Boston tavern and smiled unevenly at the young woman sitting opposite him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew with a slim degree of certainty that she had just asked him a question. He downed the last of his rum and replaced the square tumbler on the table a bit too loudly.
“Perhaps I should rephrase the question,” she said to him.
“That would be lovely,” he said, brightening.
She cleared her throat and leaned forward. “The newspaper wants a new angle on the war and I thought it might be interesting to discuss your feelings regarding the uses of your contribution to society in the ongoing conflict.”
“Contribution?” he said with just he smallest hint of slurred speech.
“Yes…you know, how your great invention helped change history and how it still impacts our daily lives.”
He nodded slowly and made increasingly less subtle gestures toward his empty glass. Eventually someone who could do something about it caught on and the glass was filled. The reporter waited through all of this with a patient smile.
“The wheel was my finest hour,” he said, readdressing his beverage. “Or it was the worst. Your choice.”
“Pardon me?” she said.
He sipped his drink. “Think about it. I was a kid. Barely out of my teens. I was just tired of rolling things around on logs and I said ‘What if we cut the logs into slices?’ Voila, you’ve got the wheel.”
“But it’s one of the most important discoveries in the history of…history.”
“Fat lot of good it did me. I should have invented the copyright.” He stared at the largely unmelted ice cubes in his glass and wondered where the hell the booze had gone. “What it meant was I had peaked at a young age. I mean, do you know how hard it is to follow up on the wheel?”
She looked at him and shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“You can’t! I mean, nothing’s going to top that. It’s not like the next logical step was the vacuum tube or anything. I was done. That was it for me.”
“So…do you feel like history has shortchanged you?”
“Look,” he said. “It’s not like I want a freaking statue. Not a big one, anyway.” He took another drink. “Would it kill them to build me a statue?” he asked.
“I’m not—“
“Hey, I understand where I am in the world. It’s not like I invented the lever – now that guy’s getting robbed. Any idea what his name is? No? I figured. And it’s not like I invented the inclined plane. Geez, find a sloping hill somewhere and boom, there’s your invention.”
He was cut short by a squawk from the reporter’s purse. She made apologetic sounds and answered her cell phone.
“Anyone I know?” he asked as she put the phone away.
“Maybe,” she said. “That was my editor. I’ve got an appointment with Gerard Horvath later today.”
“Hor who?”
“You know, the man who discovered bronze working.”
“Oh my god,” he said. “Now there’s a talent. ‘Hey, there’s some bronze – let’s do something with it, eh?’ “
“I should be going,” the reporter said. “I’ll pay for my soda on the way out.”
“You do that,” he said, refocusing in his drink. He finished it shortly after she left and placed the empty glass back on the coaster. Someday he’d get his statue. Someone would finally take the time to show him the honor he deserved.
They’d probably carve the damn thing out of bronze.
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09-02-2005 09:28
thanks mate
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