{"id":459,"date":"2013-09-12T09:50:38","date_gmt":"2013-09-12T14:50:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/extraterrestrialvisitor.wordpress.com\/?p=459"},"modified":"2013-09-12T09:50:38","modified_gmt":"2013-09-12T14:50:38","slug":"king-of-prussia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.extraterrestrialvisitor.com\/?p=459","title":{"rendered":"King of Prussia"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"prussia\"<\/a>Where do you get your imagination?<\/p>\n

People who\u2019ve read my stuff ask me where it comes from. \u201cWhere did you ever get an idea like that?\u201d they ask.<\/p>\n

From as far back as I can remember, my father told me I was adopted. He said I was left on his doorstep with a note from the king of Prussia, whose realm was under attack.<\/p>\n

I saw the note. Large black letters scrawled on cheap lined paper decreed that the king\u2019s baby must be hidden, educated and trained to return and save the Prussian crown. It even had a dripped-candle-wax seal that would appear to be official to any five-year-old.\u00a0<\/p>\n

I grew up with an arsenal of primitive weapons that had been sawed and hammered together in Dad\u2019s basement. Wooden swords, shields made from garbage can lids, whittled bows and arrows \u2013 even tinfoil armor. I trained hard and assembled a small army of kids in the neighborhood. Together we stormed front porch castles; looted costume jewelry from wicked rulers and rescued my sister\u2019s dolls from prisons. We were a gallant bunch. I knighted a few kids and told them I would take them with me when I reclaimed the throne of Prussia.<\/p>\n

I grew older and lost my army. They advanced into sports or interests appropriate to their age, and began to think I was strange. So without friends, I entertained myself by imagining; what if it\u2019s true? What if I am the prince of Prussia? What if?<\/p>\n

During all those years, he kept me believing. He allowed me to refer to him as \u201cDad\u201d in public, but privately I addressed him by his title, \u201cSir Alphonse.\u201d Mom begged him to be honest. \u201cHow long are you going to go on with this? All the other kids are laughing at him! Tell him the truth,\u201d she said. She\u2019d wag a finger at him, \u201cTelling your own son that he\u2019s adopted. How can you? You ought to be ashamed of yourself!\u201d<\/p>\n

He would wink at me, laugh and say, \u201cThese peasants have no imagination. I have the king\u2019s note. It\u2019s official.\u201d He\u2019d rub my head before leaving the room. \u201cYour father would be proud of you,\u201d he would say.<\/p>\n

And so I wondered and waited for word to come from the king.<\/p>\n

He never relented. In high school I learned there was no longer a Prussia. I confronted my father and he replied, \u201cOf course there isn\u2019t. You have to take it back. That\u2019s what this is all about.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sir Alphonse is gone now. He may have been crazy and a hopeless alcoholic. But when people ask me where I got my imagination, I reply, \u201cfrom my father, the king of Prussia.\u201d<\/p>\n

(Originally written October 10, 2004)<\/em><\/p>\n

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