8Handz is ill at ease. He shifts from one foot to the other, clears his throat. He’s looking younger than ever.
“This is the report of Team Ariel,” he says, “which is me, WonderBoy, Shiv, PPod, and HotWire. We did it together. We all put in some ideas. You guys rock,” he says to his teammates.
“We were supposed to figure out what happens to your team’s main guy after the end of the play. So, our team’s guy is Ariel. I know we all said at the beginning that he’s an alien from outer space, but we changed our minds. Like Mr. Duke said, this play is about changing your mind, and it’s Ariel who changes Prospero’s mind, from revenge to forgiveness, because despite the crap they did, he feels sorry for the bad guys and what they’re being put through, once they’ve suffered enough, so we take it that’s okay—to change our own minds.”
He looks around the room. Nods, a couple of thumbs-up.
“Great. So, we decided he’s not an alien from space. If he was that kind of an alien he’d need to be picked up in a space vehicle, or else he could get beamed up, like in Star Trek. So we came up with a different idea.
“We figure he’s, like, a holographic projection. That’s how come he can move so fast, go invisible, and divide himself up like that. It all fits, yeah?” He smiles.
“You need to know what a holographic projection is? Should I, like, go into it?”
he asks Felix.
“Briefly,” says Felix.
“Okay, it’s like 3-D, only you don’t need the glasses. But if he’s a projection, who’s projecting him? Is it Prospero? Is Ariel coming from inside Prospero’s head? It can’t be that, we figured, because when Prospero says, ‘To the elements be free,’ and lets Ariel go, then he would just vanish. He would snuff out. That wouldn’t be any way fair, after all the awesome stuff he did for Prospero.
“So we read up on elementals, thanks for the notes, Mr. Duke, and we figure he’s a holographic projection of, like, weather systems. He’s an air-spirit, plus he can do fire and water as well, so he’s got a handle on those kinds of things. Like on the Weather Network, you can see those dust devils and waterspouts, and the way clouds generate electricity—that’s where the energy comes from, the energy Ariel uses for all the jobs he does for Prospero. Because those would take a lot of energy, especially the lightning.
“So after the end of the play Ariel’s not picked up by a spaceship, and he’s not hanging out in flowers on a galaxy far, far away. Maybe he has a little vacation, with the cowslips and whatever—he’s earned it, right? But after that he stays on earth, and he flies off to tackle climate change. Sort of like Storm in the X-Men, only without the white eyeballs, plus he’s not a girl. He’s really happy to be doing that kind of work because he wants to help, he’s always been helpful, he just didn’t like being told what to do all the time, he wanted a project of his own, and he’s got more of a soul and feelings than Prospero used to think he had: it says that right in the play.
“We think our idea is a good one, and it all fits.
“Signed, 8Handz, WonderBoy, PPod, and Shiv.”
8Handz waits, looking nervous. There’s nodding and murmuring around the room.
“Unusual!” says Felix. “Very inventive! Wish I’d thought of that myself.”
This is not a lie: he does wish it, more or less. Never mind that climate change hadn’t been heard of in Shakespeare’s day: Felix told them to make their own interpretations, and they have. “Any objections?” There aren’t: it’s the last day and everyone is in a good mood. “Full points,” says Felix.
Happy grins from Team Ariel. 8Handz returns to his desk, receives shoulder slaps from his teammates. “Next up is Team Evil Bro Antonio,” says Felix.
“Let’s see how Antonio’s fate plays out.”
