The Awakening of a Superhero: A Young Reader's Novel

By Earl Thomas Byrd

This work is the second in the secret nightlife of a superhero series and is perhaps the most action-packed of the two. The main character Bartholomew Inkersall, also known as Binky, was born in fourteenth-century England but somehow got to twenty-first-century Baltimore with all of his superpowers intact.Nowadays, superheroes seem to come a dime a dozen, but the one portrayed in this book is undoubtedly the most unusual superhero you have ever met. With a name like Binky, it is hard to imagine a person with such a moniker would be considered a supra protagonist. The marriage of a fairy-tale light story to historical facts was a challenge worth the effort. Put on your seatbelt as you will be propelled through one action field adventure after another in this whimsical historical novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098052171

Book preview

Chapter 1

A Peculiar Archaeological Find

In twenty-first century England, Professor Thomas Paine Birdsong was the supervising archaeologist on this dig in the old village part of Lancaster. His parents were fascinated with the eighteenth century English born revolutionary journalist. The namesake, Thomas Paine, had penned the forty-six-page pamphlet, Common Sense, published in 1776, which inspired many of the American colonists to support the fight for independence. Additionally, his favorite uncle was also named Thomas—that is, Thomas Lee Dickerson to be exact. He was the only brother of the professor’s mother, Margaret Dickerson Birdsong. So this awesome archaeologist was named after two persons, which were the best of two worlds—the world of academia and the world of familial relations. Now Dr. Birdsong, at fifty-six years of age, was still a handsome man with black wavy hair and a bodybuilder physique in a 185-pound, six-foot-three-inch frame with an olive complexion. His high cheek bones, grey eyes, two dimples, extremely white teeth, and his captivating smile seemed to be the salient features of his face along with his pencil-thin mustache. His skill as an archaeologist was enhanced by his seemingly empathic abilities and his Cherokee heritage. His great grandmother, Jewel of the Wind, was a full-blooded Cherokee Indian princess of the Nottoway Tribe located in the Carolinas and Virginia, who were part of the Appalachian Cherokee Nation Eastern Band. Originally from Baltimore, Maryland, in the States, Dr. Birdsong had been on this site for about three months.

A graduate of Yale, Harvard, and Cornell, he has received five earned and twenty-seven honorary doctorates and a score of awards and commendations. Dr. Birdsong has received the Nobel Prize in Literature, the Pulitzer Prize in History, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, and a Kennedy Center honoree for an award-winning play on medieval times. He is a much sought-after speaker worldwide. He is the author of eight textbooks and fifty other scholarly works. Fluent in fifteen languages including five ancient ones, he was a world traveler and a confirmed bachelor and devoted most of his time to scholarly endeavors. As the supervising archaeologist on site, it was his job to make sure that all the findings were handled as if it were a contemporary crime scene, and found items were catalogued and placed in airtight containers or bags. The dig site was 7.43 square kilometers with only eleven remaining structures, some of which date back as far as the fourteenth century.

The excavation was going as well as could be expected. Suddenly, however, a great commotion began to grow in the southeastern grid zone.

Doctor Birdsong and others hurried to the area. One of the assistants, Dr. Saundra Owens, found what seemed to be a casket of a small child apparently in the fourteenth-century region. With the care of forensic scientists, two assistants—Virginia Finney and Dr. Mildred Howard—gently lifted the sarcophagus out of its longtime resting place. A special vehicle with an enhanced suspension system equipped with Rolls Royce shock absorbers was then summoned to transport the exciting find to the dig headquarters. The driver, Calvin Hadley Jr., was new to the site, having just received his master’s degree in archaeology three months earlier from Harvard University. Doctor B, as many called Professor Birdsong, and two of his top assistants, Dr. Martha Tisdale and Dr. Regina Claiborne, accompanied the find.

In a specially equipped room, the team—in surgical gowns, masks, scrubs booties for their shoes, and sterile gloves—surrounded the artifact for examination. The temperature of the room was sixty-five degrees, and black shades were drawn at all the windows to block out direct sunlight. The overhead camera was turned on, giving all in the room a great view of the entire process with either a clear line of sight or by a seventy-five-inch, high-depth CRT screen on the front wall. In the meantime, the professor observed about one-eight inch of dust covering the top of the priceless find. One of the assistants, Brenda Howard, took a dry brush and began to gently sweep the century’s old dirt away. The sway of the researcher’s brush seemed to move in syncopation with the entire team’s heartbeat. As the breathing of the group became more labored, words in old English began to be uncovered. As more of the letters slowly appeared, the team’s eyes opened wide. Clearly visible to all to see were the amazing old English letters of b i n k y.

The team looked at each other in shock and surprise. With unbelievable confusion, one of the assistants commented that binky was the brand name for a baby’s pacifier. A different worker added that binky was the fourteenth century medieval name for a fanciful dance performed by happy fairy tale rabbits. The entire group chuckled at this amusing account. Just then, another member of the staff came through the side door, Dr. Kisha Goldvarg, chief of the chemistry unit of the team, with a report for Dr. Birdsong. The professor barked to the dutiful assistant, Just give me the bottom line. She reported that the sample of the box, which was taken for carbon dating, confirmed that the casket was a fourteenth century artifact. As the scientists resumed their uncovering of the crusted words on the outside of the sarcophagus, the next few letters were easily understood—Bartholomew Inkersall. A new assistant remarked that Inkersall was a fourteenth century rendition of an old Anglo-Saxon word Ingersaul. Another researcher chimed in, this was the name of the region full of noblemen who were left after the exiting of the Roman legions. Great history lesson class, Dr. Birdsong chided lightheartedly. At that time, several more assistants entered the laboratory to witness the final stage of identifying this find. The group speculated what the names and dates meant. According to the dates, if this is indeed a casket, then the remains should be that of a sixteen-year-old male. The dates were 1329 to 1345. One of the researchers mumbled out loud that the child must have been cremated or was the smallest sixteen-year-old in the history of the world. Others chuckled and nodded in agreement as special tools were then brought out to open the sarcophagus. The tools were affixed to the lid and with a little prodding, the top began to move. As the tension in the laboratory began to increase exponentially, perspiration appeared on the brows of many of the archaeologists, but Dr. Birdsong was as cool as a cucumber.

The journey of the sarcophagus lid was a slow and pains taking one. Inch by inch and breathless moment by breathless moment, the lid journey from its fourteenth century cradle to the long-awaited freedom, revealing perhaps the greatest archaeological find of the twenty-first century. It seemed like an eternity for the stubborn top to be lifted completely off its century-old resting place. With easily heard audible gasps, the team was once again left dumbfounded as the lid was removed and placed on a sterile cloth on the table beside the casket. Doctor Birdsong and his entire team peered into the sarcophagus and saw something completely rapped in what seemed to be a fourteenth century linsey-woolsey cloth. This material, an unusual combination, was made of a blend of flax and wool. The artifact was approximately ten inches in length and five inches in width. At this point, the professor reached into the casket and gently placed his gloved hands under the bottom of the relic and slowly lifted the contents. The archaeologist noted how light in weight the object was. Moving like a one-hundred-year-old turtle with arthritis, Dr. Birdsong slowly placed the covered artifact on a sterile cloth, which had been previously laid out on the examining table. Suddenly, one of the female students in the rear of the laboratory hit the floor.

Everyone stopped to see what had happened. The professor rushed to the side of the stricken assistant to ascertain her condition and the cause of her fall. After twenty minutes and a closer examination, it was determined that she had fell victim to the heightened tension in the room and the length of her standing and just passed out. The researcher was revived and was not the worst for wear. After drinking a couple glasses of water, eating a chocolate candy bar, and being helped to her feet, she laughed and apologized to the group for embarrassing herself and holding up the uncovering of perhaps the archaeological find of the ages. A chair was brought into the now-crowded room and placed where the stricken researcher could sit and observe the entire unveiling of the marvelous find without any further difficulty. The still embarrassed young woman was gingerly escorted to the seat and, with a small smile, whispered, Thank you.

By way of a fatherly word of assurance, Doctor B placed his hand on her shoulder. The professor replied, Tut, tut, my dear child, and added, it has happened to the best of us. When I was a mere intern and had the honor of accompanying the renowned archaeologist, Waldo Rudolph Wedel, noted for his research on the plains of the US and his significant contributions to the Smithsonian. On a dig much like this excavation, the professor continued, I fainted during the examining phase of our research of probably one of the top ten artifacts unearthed in the twentieth century. I had been so excited in being part of the team that I did not sleep or eat for some time. After standing for what seemed like an eternity, I collapsed to the floor due to the lack of sleep and food and exhaustion. The entire room gasped in shocked stupor faction and was mum chance for a couple of minutes. Doctor B laughed, which simultaneously released the curious tension in the room. Affable laughter and chuckles could be heard all over the laboratory as he now returned to the amazing find.

The lab was now settled down to a composed relaxed tension, and the scientists continued their quest for an encounter with the past. With the care of a mother who is trying to take a blanket off a newborn baby, the professor gently peeled back the woollike burial cloth, as the rest of the team held their collective breaths. It was sanguine that a find of epic proportions would soon come into view. Removing the last fold of the once entombed artifact, the assistant uncovered the most peculiar find of the entire dig. Everyone gasped in stunned amazement.

Chapter 2

The Awakening

Doctor B’s second in command, Doctor Martha Tisdale, an extremely brilliant and attractive thirty-eight-year-old Oxford graduate, with a tantalizing Irish accent and long flowing blonde hair halfway to her waist that was usually tied up in a french roll. Together with amazing green eyes and a figure better than Jenifer Lopez, Professor Tisdale could have been mistaken for a supermodel with brains standing at an impressive five feet eleven inches tall. She was born in Doswell, Virginia, on December 9, 1973. The city was named after the late Bishop James I. Doswell, a pioneer in the establishment of a worldwide Christian Church.

Martha now took another dry brush from Brenda Howard and began to gently wipe away the centuries of dust from the front of the unbelievable artifact now clearly seen by the entire team. One of the other assistants retrieved a measuring tape from off the sterile field and verified the length of the find as five inches. A researcher standing in the back of the group exclaimed, It’s a blooming stuffed animal!

By Joe, It’s a blooming stuffed black dog.

Another associate whispered, It is rather pretty, isn’t it?

Doctor B, in his fascinating Barry White voice, enjoined, Let’s stay professional, people.

Martha moved over to give Professor Birdsong more room to maneuver and something caught her eye. It appeared to be a manuscript of some kind, which had been hidden by the artifact itself. The professor looked back into the sarcophagus and observed the item also. Martha gave her mentor an instrument that resembled a soft-tipped pair of large tweezers with which he gently picked up the codex and deposited upon the sterile cloth near the stuffed dog. With great care, Doctor B held the back of the artifact as Martha used the tweezers-like tool to turn the pages of the newly discovered piece of history. Sterile clamps were then used to keep the codex open and immovable. Doctor Birdsong leaned over and scrupulously examined the words written upon this footprint of fourteenth century England. The archaeological team attempted to press closer if that was even possible. Doctor B began in his usual baritone voice to read the artifact as follows:

Be it known to he who finds this casket must understand that its contents is the earthly remains of my son, Binky, who was turned into this stuffed animal as a result of an evil curse placed upon him. His given name was Bartholomew Inkersall, but he was also known as Binky the Gentle Giant. A dastardly wicked wizard whose name is Terrence the Terrible mixed an awful potion and combined it with the ancient fruit called lemon. The new libation known as lemonade combined with the demonic potion turned him into this beautiful stuffed dog. Please treat my son with the utmost respect and honor because he was the protector of the entire village of Lancaster. I am Margaret, his mother, and along with his siblings—William, Wallace, Danielle, Pamela, and Emily—have moved back to our ancestral home in Ingersaul to live with our cousin, Her Grace Lady Shannon Jones, the Duchess of Waltherson, due to the great hardship we endured for three years after Binky was the victim of an evil enchantment. We could not exist in contentment, seeing my beloved son in such an accursed state. This is why you find Bartholomew here. We could not bear to take him with us so we had the parish priest, Father Timothy, give a graveside mass for him. And here he will lay forever with the blessings of Almighty God. Rest in peace, my dear beloved son. I love you