Lovers of Babel by Valerie Walker

various city officials. I was three at the time and my parents and I had just gotten out of the limo. We had begun to walk on the sidewalk toward the next meeting place when a man behind us started yelling obscenities at my father. He was calling him a fraud and saying that he cares nothing about the citizens’ lives. He said he was power hungry and got to the top through covert means. We continued to walk but increased our pace trying our best to ignore the man, but he kept following us. Suddenly, the man lunged at my father and I remember feeling afraid of what he might do. My father didn’t hire any guards to protect us that day, because there was no reason to fear an attack. My mother pulled me away from the struggling man and tried her best to pry the man’s arms off from around my father’s neck. The man retaliated by slapping my mother to the ground with brute force while his other arm still strangled my father. This man was a beast and I was helpless to defeat it. Panic set in inside my little brain and I searched my mind on what to do. The terror became too much and I closed my eyes.
    Suddenly, I heard the man recoil and wince in pain. I open ed my eyes to see the man being hung from his neck by a chain suspended in midair. My parents were able to call the Authorities to send him to prison. I hadn’t used my powers ever since.
    As I stood in front of the classroom all eyes were on me and I knew I had to do well. I searched my imagination for an animal that I liked and remembered one that always fascinated me.
    “My favorite animal is the chameleon,” I declare to the class.
    The students were looking at each other confused .
    “Class, the chameleon is a member of the reptile species. You will learn about the animal kingdom later on in your schooling. Go on Sage,” Mrs. Mertle said.
    I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Then I felt something drop on my head. It was wiggling around and burrowing itself in my hair. The class erupted in a fit of laughter. The chameleon was making its way down my face when I grabbed it. I was so proud of my creation that I raised it to the ceiling in triumph, but the chameleon was so slick and small that it bu rst through my tiny firsts and flew across the room onto one of the student’s desks. The class was in a riot jumping around trying to get a better look at the lizard. When a student would try to grab him he would dodge them and plop onto another desk. Mrs. Mertle was trying to control the chaos that was happening, but when she started to yell at us, the chameleon made a grand leap through the air and into her mouth. She clawed at her mouth doubled over trying to get the lizard out. The students were in hysterics. Mrs. Mertle looked at me wide eyed, mouth full, and inaudibly demanded that I, “oo omething!” I hadn’t a clue what to do with my creation. The only thing I could think of was to demand it to come out of her mouth.
    “Hey, get out of there!” I yelled at the chameleon and it immediately shot through her mouth and back into my hair.
    Mrs. Mertle propped her frail body up on her podium trying to catch her breath.
    “That thing is out of control! You will need to work very hard to tame that creature!” she exclaimed breathlessly. I placed the collar around his neck and walked back to my desk.
    That night I gave my reptile friend the name Ralph. Throughout my elementary years Ralph was the most entertaining part of living in a boarding school. My friends and I would play with him all day getting him to camouflage into whatever environment we put him in. When I lost Ralph a few weeks after my tenth birthday I thought that nothing would ever come close to what Ralph did for my life. I was wrong.
    In sixth grade we were introduced to the Power Games. The purpose of the games was to showcase our abilities and compete with our classmates in different challenging competitions. By the time students could compete in the games, they were well trained in their