The Case of the Somber Violinist

Leo the Patriotic Lion here. Wildcat City loves its patriotic musical heritage, so the most common sounds you would hear would be the blaring the trumpets (or bugles), the roll of drums, and the tooting of fifes or piccolos. These are sounds that typically make folks happy, and when the full band plays, everybody’s happy. We love music and we love marching bands. We will not let go of this tradition. Today, however, folks were coming off sad for a change when hearing music, but the bands that played on the march made them happy again. Music has that kind of power. Just ask the Hellcats and they’ll tell you the same thing.

What would be the cause of making folks come across sad, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you. In the same theatre where we first met Pross and his fellow rats that made up the Unwanted, there lived this otter named Zero. He also had ran away from home at an early age (he was 12 now) and was one of the town’s finest violinists. He also suffered physical abuse from his dad, who learned that from his days in the Army. This is a rotten shame and I do not want our military behaving like this, just like Super Slash would not. But that’s what happened. His dad received a dishonorable discharge from the Army for beating up on other soldiers, and continued to do so with his son before he was finally arrested, and soon both father and son got cut off the family tree. Since Zero had nowhere to go, he found residence in the Bijou Theatre, which, as you know, has not been in use since 1972. Like the Unwanted, he admired that there were warm beds to keep him comfortable at night. (The sentence was only for two years, by the way.)

Zero’s rough life had conditioned him into thinking that all soldiers were mean, rotten, and vile, because of how he had been beaten up by his dad. He ran away at 10 and took residence in the theatre. He since made his living on the street performing for the folks, which would gladly pay to hear him play when they learned he was an orphan (sort of). Yet his music was filled with sadness and gloom, and his disposition always came off as gloomy and angry. He made sure he was polite to people, and they made sure they were polite in return, but they left, crying and somber, feeling sorry for the little otter, and not being able to tell him what to do next.

Because of his hatred of soldiers from his conditioning, Zero also felt that applied to superheroes, and in particular, us, the G-52 organization. We first learned of Zero one day when his performances took him to the park, and he played his violin. People paid as usual but came off crying, and they left the park in hopes that the sounds of a marching band would lift their spirits high once again. Zero’s titles for his music gave hints as to why he hated superheroes and soldiers.

“Wow, Madge,” said one fox. “That was some song.”

“We’re ruined, Harry!” his wife replied, sobbing.

“Why?”

“If he keeps this up, no one will be happy again.”

“Not necessarily. You just have to calm down and let the things that make you happy make you happy again.”

“Okay.” Madge paused to take a sneeze before she looked up and spotted me out taking my morning walk. It didn’t help that I was wearing my personalized BDU, though, because Zero would take it as a flashback of his beating. Of course, I wasn’t planning on that, but you’d feel the same way, too, if you were him.

“Oh, look, Harry!” she suddenly exclaimed. “It’s Leo the Patriotic Lion! There’s hope!” She sneezed again.

“Leo, are we lucky to see you!” Harry called.

“What’s the matter, citizens?” I asked, all business as usual.

“He is.” Harry motioned back over towards Zero, who was in the process of packing up his violin and heading back to the theatre to add to his collection. “Be careful, because he hates superheroes and soldiers. If he sees you, he’ll think you are there to beat him up.”

“I do not plan on doing that.”

“We know that, but he doesn’t know that. His music makes everyone sad, and he titles his songs as to tell us why he thinks superheroes and soldiers are nothing but cruel and rotten. He wouldn’t say why, though. Of course, he was playing the violin, so what else is new? I should know, because I used to play violin as principal violinist in the orchestra at where I went to school. No. That was someone else. Concertmaster. That’s the word; that’s what I was.”

“Well, congratulations,” I said. “Don’t give up the music. Talent gone to waste is in no way tolerated around here. And don’t you worry now; I’m not going to be mean to him. I shall have a word with him and be firm, but gentle.”

I walked over to where Zero was, and as Harry had warned, he saw me and ran for his life, simply because I was in a BDU. “Strange,” I thought. “He rushed off before I could even say a single word. I had better find him.”

I used the radars on my communicator to follow Zero’s path until they led me right back to the Bijou theatre. “Whoa, déjà vu,” I said. “He’s in here, all right. Of course, this door is locked, and I can’t get in here without Super Slash’s power ring, and then having Cripto snap the door for me. I wonder if there is a back way?”

“Look out below!” came a voice from above. I ducked out of the way and watched as the red lasers from that famous power ring of his knock the doors down, so I knew it had to be Super Slash. I ran inside, then waited for him to fix the doors with a new feature in his ring, since Cripto wasn’t available. (He was hanging out with his fellow band members of Furry Fury at the bowling alley.)

“Sorry to scare you, bro,” Super Slash spoke up after finishing fixing the door, “but my communicator was beeping like crazy, and it was telling me you needed inside.”

“At least you fixed the door after warning me to get out of the way, soldier,” I replied. “Meanwhile, follow me, but be careful.” I proceeded to explain the whole story behind Zero.

“I wondered about that,” Super Slash replied. “My super hearing was detecting nothing but crying from the citizens, and shouts of joy when the marching bands came by to lift their spirits. Nothing against symphony orchestras, but it seems to me like this town is going to give them a bad name if he keeps this up.”

“This town appreciates symphonic music and always will,” I said. “Part of that accounts for the superhero-themed pieces Leo the Tiger writes, but his pieces do not leave sadness; they leave happiness. Meanwhile, Zero is hostile towards soldiers and superheroes, so don’t be surprised if he’s a good shot.”

We walked into the room where we previously accounted the Unwanted, and as we expected, Zero was afraid. “Don’t come any closer! I’ll scream!” he shouted.

“What would you be screaming about?” Super Slash replied.

“You beating me up!” Zero implied. “I don’t care if you beat me like a drum or not. I know you’ll beat me.”

“Now you straighten up and listen to us,” I interjected as politely as I could do. “We do not, under any circumstances, want to physically abuse you. We just want you to calm down and tell us why your music is hostile towards our profession and gives us a bad name. The citizens go home crying after you finish performing, but nonetheless are glad you are polite to them. They just want you to stop being hostile towards soldiers and superheroes. In particular, we are two members of the G-52 organization. I am Leo the Patriotic Lion, and he is Super Slash. Perhaps I made a mistake wearing this BDU of mine, but it’s personalized. Besides, I used to be the leader of the U.S. Lion Corps Band, so I was never a combatant.”

“I was, though,” Super Slash added. “I was part of the 112th Tiger Troopers, and we never in any way allowed ourselves to beat up others. We wouldn’t stand for it. If we saw bullying, we put a stop to it.”

Zero took a few deep breaths before finally gaining his composure and coming to the realization that he was wrong about soldiers and superheroes, and that his dad was a rare case. “Okay, I’m sorry, and I promise to stop making people cry and to stop thinking bad things about you,” he said as he got to his feet. “Now let me tell you my story. My name is Zero, and that is because my dad said I was a zero. He used to beat me up all the time, which he learned from his days in the Army when he beat up fellow soldiers in fights that got him kicked out, and he was arrested when I was 10, leading the rest of my family to cut us both off the tree. I am an orphan now, sort of, and when I was 10, I thought that because my dad did so, all soldiers and superheroes did so. Besides, those old cartoons have many beat-’em-up scenes in them. Therefore, I ran away and made my living in here, playing for people on the street, but always coming off as gloomy and angry. Now I regret it, having realized it was you, Mr. Zanicchi, and Super Slash, too.” Zero paused to take a drink of what he thought was water, but was in fact T2’s immunity drink. (He didn’t read the label; he just grabbed it, paid for it, and came on back on to the theatre.)

“You think his dad was hypnotized by Bendraqi?” Super Slash asked me.

“That’s a possibility, but I wouldn’t bet on it just yet until we know for sure,” I said. “At least he’s safe. Look. He knows about T2’s immunity drink.”

“You mean this isn’t water?” Zero asked.

“No,” I said, proceeding to explain the story behind T2’s immunity drink. When I finished, Zero replied, “I hate creepy old Bendraqi!”

“Yeah! Don’t we all?” Super Slash added.

“Thank you, sirs, for helping me learn that you’re not bad, and that my dad was just one case,” Zero added. “Now I can face my dad again.”

“Lead us to him,” I said. “I want the full story.”

Zero led us outside the theatre and helped us lock the doors before we walked to his house, though not before another marching band passed by on a nearby street. The march of choice, James M. Fulton’s “Battleship Oregon March,” (and my personal favorite of his), was even putting a smile on Zero’s face. “Wow, you’re right,” he said. “These bands do make everybody happy!”

“It’s a reputation we are proud of, and one we will have forever,” I said.

“Haven’t I heard Leo the Tiger play that one?” Super Slash asked.

“You might have,” I nodded. “That’s the Battleship Oregon March, by James M. Fulton, an all-but-forgotten composer of American greats. But not in this town. No great American composer is forgotten in Wildcat City!”

We arrived at the house and Zero showed some signs of nervousness, but hummed the march to keep himself calm. He didn’t have to knock on the door, because his dad was right there, mowing the lawn. But instead of the angry attitude Zero expected, his father smiled at seeing him again. After turning the lawnmower off, he waved to Zero heartily, and the father and son embraced each other’s arms. It was almost like how the father reacted when the prodigal son returned home, according to the biblical parable.

“Been a while,” said the dad.

“I know,” said Zero, “and I’m sorry I ran away.”

“I’m sorry I beat you up so bad. I just wasn’t myself. It wasn’t normal of me to behave like that. It’s too bad I was kicked out of the Army and arrested, because this will leave a mark on my profile. It was weird, though. One minute I was doing my troops proud, and the next, I was a disgrace. Oh, do I have a headache.”

“That confirms it,” I said. “Bendraqi hypnotized you to act this way. Once the real story gets out, those charges will be erased from your record. I will see to that. Yes. It is I, Leo the Patriotic Lion.”

“I see,” said the dad, “and I figured it was you from your voice. But who are you?” He turned to Super Slash.

“Who am I?” Super Slash smiled. “I am the champion of the helpless! I am the defender of the weak! I am the tiger of terror, the cat of caliber, the protector of the downhearted, the hero of heroes! I am Super Slash!” He struck his trademark pose and growled. Then he straightened up again and smiled those pearly whites of his. Those whites were so bright, I must confess. They would have broken a whole TV studio’s worth of cameras.

“Are you the one that fled?”

“Yes, but that’s all behind me now.”

“I see. Well, one thing I can say for sure is that my son here is a true virtuoso. I heard about how he was making extra cash performing and I like that. But if possible, I want to take him back, unless I’m forbidden by law. And I promise to never beat him up again.”

“Indeed,” I said. “Give it a few days and see if we can make it official. In the meantime, drink this.” I handed the dad a bottle of T2’s drink and explained it to him. “Your son is safe, and now you’ll be safe,” I concluded. “Bendraqi won’t stop trying, but he won’t bother you anymore.”

The next day’s news reported the real story, and since Bendraqi was the one at fault, the public began looking at Zero differently. No longer was he playing sad music intended to show hate at superheroes and soldiers. His music now was making everyone happy in addition to the marching bands that played every day, weather permitting, and later in the week, he had the honor of being guest virtuoso when our city’s symphony orchestra performed one of my concertos for violin and orchestra. Harry and Madge even attended the concert. (The second half of the concert was devoted to some of Leo the Tiger’s pieces written as salutes to superheroes, including Super Slash. His tribute to Super C served as the grand finale.)

“Excellent job!” the dad and I said when the concert was finished. “How’d you like doing that?”

“Better than being on the streets, that’s for sure,” Zero smiled.

“You know, our town has a few prestigious music schools that are designed to help talented young musicians like you develop even further, until you become one on the professional circuit,” I said. “How’d you like to further your education at one of those? You deserve it.”

“I would like that very much, sir,” Zero replied.

“Where can I find one?” the dad asked.

“They’re in the phone book,” I said. The dad and Zero agreed, and the next day they found one, went to it, and Zero showed his talents by playing one of his pieces that previously made people sad, although he changed the title and a few notes in order to prevent that from happening again. The school’s administrators and teachers approved it, and he was in. He couldn’t wait to start school the next week. Also, from that point on, he looked up to soldiers and superheroes as role models.

When we met at Maximum Mighty Melt so that Zero could announce the success to me, I congratulated him, and then I introduced him to my counterpart, Tom the Patriotic Tiger, and his father, Benjamin, who told him all he needed to know about who the Hellcats are and why they are so important to our Army and to the cadets at West Point.

Zero has since become of the city’s most beloved musicians, so be sure to look for him the next time you visit Wildcat City. And watch for our marching bands, too; they can always put a smile on your face and brighten up your dark day.

THE END