It all started that day when Manny broke the vase at home. He had knocked it off the shelf accidentally. Grandmother started swearing the moment she heard it. The shards were all over the floor. It was Ming. I was peering over the remnants of the vase when I had the most inexplicable urge to touch them. I put my hands on the broken pieces, felt a surge of power and in a blinding flash the vase was there, reconstructed and brand new, with not even a crack on its surface.
My family, at first horrified at the unexplainable power I wielded, soon became used to it. I was the handyman of the family. Cars, air-conditioners, television sets, anything that broke down I could repair to a factory issue state in the blink of an eye. It did not take long for me to realise the vast money-making capabilities of this power. I started out selling my services to neighbours and friends, and through word of mouth recommendations and an aggressive marketing campaign, I found myself called in for ever more lucrative contracts – from building repair to reconstruction of age old artifacts.
Then one day, while on vacation in Naples, Italy, while trekking through the ruins of Pompeii I happened to lean against the wall of a destroyed building in a brief moment of exhaustion, and before I knew it, there was the familiar flash and a clap of thunder. As the my eyes adjusted from the shock , I realised with horror and fascination that the wall I was holding on to had been repaired to smooth marble, and all around me the buildings had risen again to their ancient glory. The tourists around me were delighted, and immediately started taking photos at the newly reconstructed Pompeii.
The consternation that greeted me when I returned to town was a different thing, though. My rebuilding of Pompeii had caused a furor in the archeological community. They were outraged that I had so blatantly and easily erased such a significant portion of Italy’s culture and history. In my defence I had no idea my power was going to activate back then. I was still struggling with the control of it. But the deed was done and suddenly several dozen professors who had depended on the ancient city for their lives’ work found themselves out of a job.
After the Pompeii incident, I visited several more historical sites – Machu Pichu, the Great Wall, the Acropolis. Each time there would be activists and lobbyists waiting for me. But they could not stop me. All I had to do was bend down and touch a small portion of the ruins and watch as the buildings rose up from the ashes. I guess I was offending some people who had relied on those ruins as part of their job, but in my view I was creating far more possibility by making those old places new again. At some point in time the remnants of history must make way for the progress of civilisation. The best thing was that my power was not confined to just ancient ruins – I even managed raised 70% of the Amazon back to its former lushness.
Yet after all this time, there has been a single thing I have dared not to do. It was the possibility of restoring dinosaurs to life. After all they are merely bones and fossils, much like the granite ruins of ancient cities. It has quietly crossed my mind countless times, but in each instance I quickly banish the thought. Once I must say I came quite close, though. As I was restoring the old city of Troy I came across the fossil of some long lost animal half buried in the dirt. It seemed like some sort of huge bird to me. I deliberated for pretty long, standing over the fossil, but in the end, somehow, I didn’t put my hand to it. I guess something in me told me that it wasn’t right. Not all histories are meant to be rebuilt. So I left it, half sticking out from under a new road, for the incoming residents of New Troy to find. At least the paleontologists will thank me for this.