The Jon Swishah Saga An Intro

March 15th

         Jon Swishah searched the Regualrtown Mall feverishly. Earlier in the morning he had sat down to write an editorial for the Regulartown Gazette, when he realized he needed a new pair of shoes. To the normal man, this would seem like a trifling matter, but to Jon Swishah shoes were simply the beginning of a philosophy. Jon believed a man should work hard, his late father Jon Swishah Sr. a day laborer, had instilled this in Jon early in his life. Hard work was only a part of the philosophy though, for Jon also picked up the other part of his philosophy from his mother Sheila. She believed everything should be done with style and that you should look the part you were attempting to play.

         Jon Swishah had incorporated both elements into a lifestyle that had taken him far from his Bronx birthplace to Regulartown, Oklahoma. He had picked up his knack for writing along the way, always feeling a rhythm in life that he recorded with finesse that most would find difficult to accomplish.  There was something to Jon Swishah though, that had to always be right, his shoes. Jon believed in putting his best foot forward, which led him to the belief that a man needed a real shoe to do so. It wasn’t that Jon was arrogant, but he treated everything he wore in this way. Unfortunately for Jon, there were no shoes that fit what he was looking for.

         He had searched the mall up and down for the perfect pair of shoes. The vision Jon had in his mind was a pair of Chuck Taylors. They were black and white low tops that would fit amazingly. The shoes would look good, feel good, and possess style. These were the basic prerequisites Jon tried to fulfill with everything he wore. The disappointment of knowing that he would not be finding these shoes bit at him angrily. Jon wasn’t a man who settled with failure, but it looked like he would not be succeeding on this day. He allowed himself to accept the inevitable and began to make his way out of the mall. Then nature made a call he could not refuse. Jon Swishah hurried to the bathroom by the exit.

         Jon walked in and noticed that this bathroom seemed different. The odor was repugnant and there was filth everywhere. The bathroom was unlike any Jon had ever seen in the mall before. Janitors need to be doing their jobs he thought as he relieved himself. There was a disturbing feeling to the place though that Jon couldn’t shake. Something in the back of his head was screaming that things were not right. Jon shook himself, flushed the urinal, and turned to the shortest man he had ever seen. The dwarf stood before him at what couldn’t have been more than two feet tall in a green suit, with a green top hat. “Welcome to my office.” The little man said slyly. “Yeah… whatever man.” Jon began to step over to the sink when the dwarf blocked is path. “I like your watch there… uh… what’s your name?” The man pointed to Jon’s Rolex, a gift from his father before he had passed on. “I’m Jon Swishah you need to get up out my way, kid.” The man smiled a crooked, obscene look that sent a shiver up Jon’s spine. “Well Jon, why don’t you give me your watch. You’re in my office, you used my bathroom, and now you owe me a toll.” Jon was taken aback by the man’s bravado. “Look little man, first off I’m Jon Swishah, not Jon. It’s like A Tribe Called Quest; you gotta say the whole thing. Second, I don’t take kindly to any toll, you want my watch, you’ll have to take it from me.” Jon wasn’t about to let himself get punked by some dwarf.

         The small man’s face turned beat red. “It’s Little Abe C… Jon. I said I want your fucking watch, now give it to me!” Little Abe C pulled back and kicked Jon in the shin. Jon leaned forward grabbing his shin more in shock then in pain, when Little Abe C pulled back and punched him right in the mouth. “Yeah, you think you’re a big man? How about this?” Little Abe C kicked Jon in the opposite shin and it was then that Jon noticed the Chuck Taylors Little Abe C was wearing. They were the perfect shoe, black and white low tops, exactly what Jon was looking for. Another kick from Little Abe C brought Jon out of his wonder and put him back into the fight. “You about to get jaw jacked li'l man!” Little Abe C sneered at the threat though and pulled back to kick again. This time Jon was ready though, catching the kick and sending Little Abe C spinning. Jon pulled back a fist and connected with the back of Little Abe C’s head, knocking him and his top hat to the ground. Jon Swishah wasn’t a violent man, but when an adversary left him no choice he always made sure to leave a mark. Jon followed up, pinning Little Abe C to the ground with one hand, and punching him in the back of the head with the other.

         It took several minutes of punches before Little Abe C began to whimper surrender. Jon released him and stepped back. Little Abe C got up slowly, shaking his head. His shoes had somehow fallen off in the fight, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I’m done Jon Swishah, you won, just let me leave…” He swayed a bit as he spoke, leaning against the wall, and slowly making his way out of the bathroom. Little punk Jon thought as the dwarf left. The Chuck Taylors sat on the floor in front of Jon. They seemed to call out to him and they looked to be the right size for his feet. Jon puzzled at them for a moment, not understanding how a two foot tall man could wear a size twelve shoe and then finally he gave into curiosity. Jon put the shoes on experimentally. They were not only a perfect fit, but felt as though they had never been worn. Jon looked himself over and smiled. The shoes felt and looked amazing. “Oh, we going to the club tonight…” He said to himself as he washed his hands and left the bathroom.



That Night

         Jon had gone home after his encounter with Little Abe C. His new found shoes had given him the inspiration to write an article for a well-known men’s magazine on confidence and how it affected a man’s chances with the ladies. The writing had taken him into the early evening, when he reminded himself of his wishes to go to the club. Jon Swishah had thought carefully and decided this was a night where he needed to truly go out in style. He needed to test out his new Chucks in the best club in Regulartown. The Jump Off was the place to go to become one with your inner rhythm in Regulartown. Jon put on a crisp black shirt and his best pair of jeans, (gold chain) then his Chuck Taylors. He stared into the mirror for a moment, checking his afro for any imperfections and set out. Jon could have driven his dad's Super Sport El Camino with 20 in. rims and green candy paint job to the club, but Jon liked to walk at times like this. The early evening in Regulartown was always a good place to watch the scenery. The plethora of people and events that were always going served to stimulate Jon’s mind.

         Jon walked quietly, absorbing everything around him. Everywhere he looked, something was happening. A couple walking together, enjoying the air, passed him by with a smile. Their love was obvious and it made Jon smile inside. Further ahead a break dancer performed for an eager crowd, who hooted and hollered for more as he finished. Jon nodded at some of the passerby’s, recognizing a few acquaintances’ he had made over the years. A few others he did not know smiled and waved to him as they passed. Jon was always polite, nodding and giving a half smile, but always warm. This was Jon’s way though, never to excited, but always just enough to let people know he was a friendly man. He had learned early on, that people were more receptive to him when he gave the vibe of being kind.

         When Jon finally arrived at The Jump Off, the music was bumping. He made his way to the dance floor without hesitation. This was the advantage he found in not drinking. When most men were making their way to the bar to grab a shot, he was already out on the hunt. This was one of Jon’s favorite past times. The women gyrated around him and he moved into their midst like a lion in the jungle. The movements came naturally to Jon, always a natural; he began to draw a crowd. Some of the females he had been eying began to move closer and he increased his movement in response. Jon looked around and allowed his eyes to settle on one who caught his attention the most. Her long dark hair, big dark eyes, beautiful dimpled face, and slim dark body appealed to him immediately.

         The two joined together, dancing in unison. There were a few moments where Jon lost himself completely in the beauty of what was happening. Their eyes met for a moment and then he felt her lean into him. A slap on his back snapped them both out of the amazing moment they were about to share. Jon turned, knowing already that there was trouble waiting behind him. “Hey homie, your skeez is looking fine as hell, so me and the boys are gonna get at her and take her back to the crib; while you go stand on the sidelines.” The man stood before him with that menacing glare Jon had become so used to in certain people. The man’s friends stood behind him, sneering. Jon recognized the colors they wore as a symbol for the 8th Street Bangers. Jon Swishah had never been a fan of gangs, always relying on himself; a gang was anathema to him. Jon let his body loosen up, knowing he wouldn’t back down, especially in front of a lady. “Hey, I’m sure this fine young woman doesn’t want to go home with you, so how about you step off?” Jon hoped he could take down the leader quickly, which would probably cause his goons to run off.

         The next few moments were burned into Jon’s memories. It was almost funny how it happened, when the gang leader pulled back to punch Jon, everything began to slow down or maybe Jon had just sped up. Jon couldn’t be sure, but when the man pulled back, Jon kicked him in the face. The kick itself hadn’t been what surprised Jon, he had kicked several other men in the face in his lifetime, it had been the glow his Chuck Taylors had given off as he kicked him. The kick drove the man into the ground hard, leaving him unconscious. There was a moment where the gang members seemed to hesitate, and then they moved forward, hoping to overpower him with number. The next half a minute was a blur as Jon kicked a knife out of the hands of a stunned gang banger, chopped at another’s throat, and kicked another so hard he flew into a nearby wall. Jon looked at the men, then down at his shoes. The Chucks had given off a puff of smoke, as if they were just warming up. He himself felt like he knew every fighting style the world had ever taught.

         The feeling was good as the conscious men ran off. The beauty he had been eyeing grabbed onto his arm and pulled him into a kiss that was full of promise. Jon loved the idea of what might lie ahead for him. “That was amazing.” She said as she pulled back. Jon gave flashed a smile and shrugged. "Really ain't nothing baby. Maybe we should just get out of here?” The young woman nodded in agreement and Jon led her off the floor. All the while he debated in his mind what exactly had just happened. A whole slew of questions related to the Chucks and Little Abe C began to swirl in his mind.



March 16th



         The next morning Jon had awoken early, as was his usual routine. His night spent with the beautiful Isabella had been a great wonder and had left him feeling like he needed to write. There were several things he had to do today, include collecting some pay off he made on a recent article he had written for Time. Jon sat at his desk, eyeing a piece of paper and the blank word document on his laptop. He began to mull over the white sheet when the questions began to surface. The memories had almost slipped from him with the ecstasy of the previous night, but now they began to crowd to the front. Who is Little Abe C and what is up with these shoes, the question hung in the air before him like a cloud? There was no easy answer, unless he could find Little Abe C, but even that didn’t seem to have great chances of getting him anywhere. Jon’s brief encounter with the diminutive man had left him with the feeling that he didn’t help people too often.

         Jon mentally went in circles for most of the morning, chasing the questions with speculations. It was eleven o’clock when he finally decided he had, had enough. There was a hint of frustration that Jon was desperately trying to drop when he decided to go to the bank. Time had deposited some money into a checking account that Jon kept for transfers. Leaving his unrelenting questions to the side, Jon set out for the Regulartown Bank.

         Jon walked softly down the street, the Chucks shining in the early afternoon sun. He marveled again at their feel. They looked so new still and felt so comfortable. They almost gave off a glow that made Jon feel even more confident than usual. It felt like the shoes added to his swagger in a way that he didn’t think was possible. As he rounded the corner and entered the bank a sixth sense in his mind went off. He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind as he approached the bank teller. “EVERYBODY ON THE FUCKING GROUND!” A voice yelled from behind him. Jon turned quickly to a man in an ape suit with a large rifle. He pointed it in every direction, forcing people down out of fear. “Hey motherfucker! You see this? I’m a guy in an ape suit and that means I don’t give a fuck!” He pointed his rifle menacingly at Jon.

         Jon Swishah stared for a moment. “You got a fucking problem? Don’t you see I’m fucking crazy motherfucker?” The man screamed through his mask. Jon took a step forward, deciding suddenly that it was now or never for the shoes. “Man, I got a gun and I’M IN AN APE SUIT!” The man was becoming irate at Jon’s walk. “I’m Jon Swishah and I don’t think you understand…” He stopped for a moment, looking for just the right words. “If you just lay down your weapon, we can talk about this. There doesn’t need to be any violence. Why bother these people, they’re just trying to go about their daily lives.” Jon hoped inside the man would just lay his weapon down. “HOLY FUCKING SHIT! I’M IN AN APE SUIT! CAN’T YOU SEE HOW FUCKING CRAZY I AM? I’M NOT HERE TO ROB THE PLACE, I’M HERE TO KILL PEOPLE, BECAUSE I’M IN AN APE SUIT!” The man ran forward, squeezing the trigger as he did so. Jon could see the bullets leaving the rifle and he knew the Chucks were magic. He couldn’t just see them; it was as if the entire world had slowed down. The Chucks reacted like they had the previous night; he kicked the first bullet out of the way with a blinding flash of Chuck Taylor power. The second bullet came and he kicked it back at the man, knocking the gun out of his hands.

         “Oh fuck no! I don’t give a shit about your ninja voodoo powers! I got this ape suit and the little leprechaun guy told me it would make me strong! GO FUCK YOURSELF!” The man in the ape suit grabbed Jon up in mid stride, slamming him to the ground. The air escaped Jon’s lungs quickly; this was not something he had expected. The ape man laid into Jon’s exposed stomach, knocking what was left of the oxygen out of his chest. Jon struggled, trying to grab the man’s arms and slow him down. A million thoughts raced through Jon’s mind, and then something stuck out. He grabbed the man’s right arm and rolled out from underneath, righting himself quickly. Could the leprechaun be Little Abe C? The thought hit him like a brick. “So the little dwarf gave you the ape suit crazy man?” Jon said aloud. He realized then that the suit was probably like the Chucks, if he could remove the mask it might affect the way the powers worked. Jon pointed his hand in a knife edge out at the ape man. “Let’s do this, you want some of Jon Swishah, you got it!” The ape man charged again, reacting just the way Jon had predicted. The last time he was unprepared, but this time things would be different. Things began to slow down as Jon brought forward his right foot, the Chucks gleaming as they caught the ape man in the right temple. He spun in the air and hit the ground with a thud. The ape man lay motionless for a moment as Jon ripped the mask off his face.

         Jon held the mask up before him, stunned people cowered around him. “It’s alright everyone; Jon Swishah won’t allow a blindly violent man to harm anyone.” He said as he tossed the mask aside. Slowly people stood, some nodding in appreciation, others beginning to clap, until all the stunned citizens were clapping and hooting. Jon smiled and raised a hand. “There is no thanks needed, I believe any one of you would’ve done the same thing had our positions been reversed.” He turned to walk up to the bank teller, a stunned young blonde, who smiled gratefully as he completed his business.

         Jon began to leave the bank as the police came, when a man he recognized as the mayor of Regulartown approached him. “Sir, I wanted to extend my appreciation to you on behalf of Regulartown. May I ask your name good sir?” The mayor extended his hand. Jon took it and gave a half smile. “I’m Jon Swishah Mr. Mayor and there are no thanks needed.” Mr. Mayor gave a warm smile in return. “Mr. Jon Swishah, that was an amazing brave thing you did, standing up to the maniac, I don’t know how you did it.” Jon nodded, not wanting to mention the Chucks. Mr. Mayor broke off the hand shake, his pudgy, pale face still in a smile. “Well Mr. Jon Swishah I wish there were more people like you in the world.” Jon smiled at this last statement and nodded again as the mayor walked away. He offered a final wave and left the bank. There were a few moments of pride, but then a dark thought clouded his mind. Did Little Abe C turn that man loose? Was he trying to get to me or was it random luck? The thoughts rolled through his head the whole way home.



March 17th St. Patrick’s Day

         Jon Swishah’s early morning was uneventful. Having shoved the worries of Little Abe C to the back of his mind, he wrote several articles and began to prepare for a big day. He had acquired tickets to the “St. Patrick’s Day Metal Festival” that was being held at the Regulartown Pavilion. The first metal concert he had gone to had left many puzzled. He understood their questions, though a few had questioned in a rude, ignorant manner asking why he was at the show. He remembered pointing at the lead singer of Killswitch Engage who was screaming and singing on stage, then saying. “The only limits a man has are the ones he places on himself.” He had received the horns from the man asking and continued on into the mosh pit. Oh, it wasn’t that Jon didn’t appreciate the music was generally “associated” with his skin color, but Jon hated those kinds of stereotypes. He lived to smash barriers and experience all he could. Metal concerts were one of the experiences he delighted in. Some saw it as horrid, but Jon felt a real rhythm, albeit a chaotic one.

         He spent the morning moshing to such great acts as Hatebreed, Heaven Shall Burn, and Terror. The show had gone into the early evening, when Parkway Drive came on stage. Jon had always enjoyed their music, finding an amazing beauty and life in what they created. Jon had made his way to the front, doing a mix of slam dancing and moshing to “Home is for the Heartless”, when the music stopped suddenly. The crowd fell into silence as the lights shut off, all but one. That singular light fell on a face that Jon recognized instantly. “Jon fucking Swishah, please come to the front!” Little Abe C called out as he strode to the front of the stage. The lead singer of Parkway Drive, Winston McCall, moved in front of Little Abe C to stop him shouting “midget” as he did so. Little Abe C kicked him away with a flaming boot to the chest. It was then that Jon saw the black and green Chuck Taylors that Little Abe C wore. “I’m a fucking leprechaun you little punk! Where is Jon Swishah?” Little Abe C swung his head back and forth searching out Jon’s location. Jon didn’t give him a chance as he leapt onto the stage easily. “Little Abe C! You think you can just come in here and stop the enjoyment of these great people?” Little Abe C laughed and shook his head. “Stupid fool, I just came to get what is mine and beat the shit out of all these metal wannabe fucks!”

         The crowd booed Little Abe C as he spoke. He held up a hand at them, laughing all the while. “I’m way more metal than any of you, especially this guy!” He pointed at Jon Swishah with a crooked finger. “I’ll even prove it, how about a little game Jon?” Jon Swishah looked at, a bit of rage coming over his normally calm demeanor. “I told you before; it’s Jon Swishah, not Jon. What’s yo game?” Jon eyed him suspiciously, knowing there was some kind of lie hidden in his words. Little Abe C gave a wicked smile and began to wave his hands. Smoke poured forth from around him and as the smoke cleared he held a guitar in his hands. “Guitar duel! I’m going first!” Little Abe C began to play Flesh Storm by Slayer, a song Jon instantly recognized. Little Abe C’s fingers moved nimbly up and down the neck of the guitar. Fire shot out of Little Abe C’s shoes as he played the song. Then as quickly as it began it was over. Little Abe C looked at Jon, a snicker barely escaping from his lips. “Oh wait; you don’t even have a guitar… I guess you lose!” Little Abe C laughed. “Now hold up…” Jon began when a voice cut him off. “Jon Swishah! Use this and cut that little bastard down!” It was Luke “Pig” Kilpatrick, one of the guitarists for Parkway Drive, and he was tossing his guitar to Jon. Jon caught the guitar easily and smiled. Little Abe C’s scowl replaced the snickering face as he realized Jon Swishah was about to lay down the greatest riffs of all time. “Here it comes…” Jon began to play Karma as homage to Parkway Drive.

         The notes screamed forth from the guitar and the Chucks gave off brilliant beams of light. The crowd erupted into cheers as Jon finished the song. Jon Swishah handed the guitar back to Luke with a nod of thanks. “YOU SON OF A BITCH! THOSE CHUCKS WERE SUPPOSED TO WORK FOR ME, NOT YOU! GIVE THEM BACK!” Little Abe C screamed as he rushed forward, his own Chucks spitting fire every step of the way. Jon assumed a fighter’s stance as Little Abe C collided with him. The movements the two were making were almost too fast for the crowd to follow. The light and fire mingled as the two combatants fought. Neither could seem to gain an upper hand over the other and they fought for several minutes before they disengaged and stared each other down. Little Abe C grimaced. “Fine Jon Swishah, have it your way.” Then the fire erupted from Little Abe C’s shoes, causing people to flee from the immediate area. “Prepare to face your doom.” Little Abe C screamed as the fire propelled him forward. Jon let the light of the Chucks consume him and the world began to slow down. He saw Little Abe C’s twisted face, totally defenseless. “Super kick to yo grill!” Jon screamed as he kicked Little Abe C in the face, sending him sputtering to the ground in a twisted fireball.

         Little Abe C lay on all fours, barely keeping himself up. “You may have won now…” He gasped. “This isn’t the end…” He said as he disappeared into the air. The remaining crowd jumped up and down cheering. Some may have not even been aware that what they saw had been a real fight, but they cheered none the less. Jon Swishah raised a hand in victory as the members of Parkway Drive crowded around him. Jon knew Little Abe C would be back, but for now the battle with the Leprechaun was over.

This was the beginning of a true American hero, a man who transcended race, creed, and nationality, who truly believed in doing the right thing. This was the beginning of THE JON SWISHAH SAGA.



***



NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
I just wanted to add a special thanks to Wizzie for everything he contributed to this story and the future stories of Jon Swishah. Your help is greatly appreciated!

Thanks for reading and I appreciate any and all constructive comments.


This work is copyright Chrono Shock 2011
The "writing.com" edition may be distritbuted free of charge, provided it is unaltered and attributed to its auther Chrono Shock.