Be A Character In TalysMana Contest Entry TalysMana.com "Michael Tulk"

The young Norwegian ran his fingers through his dark blond hair. At this moment his hazel eyes shown with a blue tint in the workshop’s yellow light. “Why isn’t this working!” Michael Tulk finally shouted in frustration. He was working on a new puzzle/music box for his friend’s birthday. He based it off of a poem that she had written called “Light”. The key to getting the box open was to simply follow a line from the poem and hold down the corresponding buttons in the right order. ‘Move a light to the shadow, and the shadow is no more.’ Michael had made clever little symbols for each of the words. He liked making puzzles that made you use all ten fingers and then left you guessing on what to do next, but now the spherical puzzle was locked shut and wouldn’t open with the right combination of buttons and twists.

Michael was a strong Christian. He read his Bible, and did what it said as best he could. It was in his nature to help people. Anytime someone needed help with a job Michael was always the person people called. Michael saw God as light and love and sought to portray that in his art work, especially with this piece. But if it didn’t work than what was the point of it being beautiful? With another sigh of frustration Michael looked at his watch. He had time for a break. At this time he needed to take his anger out on something other than the box anyway. He wasn’t sure why, but karate seemed to help him figure out these sort of problems. There was something about getting his body moving in patter to a kata that caused his mind to just click and the problem wouldn’t be a problem anymore. Michael’s sister said it was the same for her, only she preferred to dance. She had tried karate once, but hated the images that the different techniques brought to her mind. She said that she had once seen one of the people that she was ‘killing’ in the kata. It disturbed her greatly. He thought his sister was just being overly sensitive, but after her vivid description of the man she had ‘killed’, and knowing her lack of imagination in that area, Michael decided that something really had happened. Whatever it was that bothered his sister had no effect on him. Michael didn’t allow these images to get into his head.

Michael stared at himself in the mirror. The gym was empty; mostly because there aren’t a lot of people who like to workout at 1:00am. He decided he would say the words in Japanese in his head. Taking in a deep breath he moved his left foot to his right and raised his hands in an almost double salute. ‘Mesube Dachi’ he thought, ‘Formal Stance’. He breathed out slowly as he lowered his arms and head. Eyes closed. His only concentration was on the next move. With a flash he was in his next stance ‘Neko-Ashi-Dachi’, ‘Cat Stance’. His right fist was at his side, and in his head he told the story of the kata. ‘I do not wish to fight,’ he thought, and then move forward to the next stance; another cat stance, but this time with his hands in front ‘unless I have to’. Michael’s hands flashed up to show that they were empty, ‘Weapons,’ He took two steps back into another formal stance, ‘I have none’. He moved to the next stance, ‘Fight to the death.’ Michael breathed out slowly as he pressed his palms toward the floor, ‘You decide’. Suddenly he realized what was wrong with the box. He quickly changed back into his street clothes and ran back to the shop.

He slid the key into the door his grandfather had made for him. “Never trust a machine to make a lock.” Michael’s grandfather would say, “If you want a lock that only opens for you then make it yourself.” The words always made him smile; even if they were only a memory. The work desk was still cluttered with all of Michael’s usual tools, but he decided he needed something else. He reached inside his desk and pulled out the tool that was the Tulk family’s pride and joy. Michael was amazed that such a device could have been made during a time of little real science and no electricity. The device looked like a tiny two pronged fork with a normal size handle. The Tulk Torch is what his sister called it. What it did was more amazing than the incredibly detailed interwoven patterns and animals on its handle. The best Michael could figure was that it acted like a modern electro magnate. It could be turned on and off at will with a small button on the top of the handle. But what really baffled Michael was that it was able to pick up any substance, not just metal. Grandfather Tulk said it was magic, and since there was no other explanation, Michael was inclined to believe him. One of the specially designed pins was rotated wrong just behind the seventh button. He removed the button, turned the pin, and then tried the lock. It worked perfectly. He had finished the music playing mechanism last week. It played a sweet little piano song he had written for the poem. Michael sat back in his chair. Admiring his work was always the best part. All of the transparent gold colored peaces that made up the box shown like crystal in the light of the work lamp. Light was almost magnified as it passed through the box. He thought it fitting that there was almost no shadow behind the box because of the way light reflected throughout the piece. Michael looked at his watch again. Church would be starting in about seven hours. ‘Perfect timing.’ he thought as he walked upstairs to his apartment to get some much needed sleep.

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