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Jay stormed down the trail to his junkyard, yanking off the broken pieces of his flying contraption. He threw them to the ground, not caring where they landed, or if they suffered more damage than they already had. He struggled to get his failed invention off his back; one of the wings had somehow attached itself to his sleeve. Growling, he struggled harder and finally got it off, throwing it to the ground as well.
With a huff, he plopped down on the old, rusted furnace his dad had thrown out years ago. It no longer gave any heat and Jay had turned it into his seat.
He pulled his jacket off, wincing at the pain that shot up his shoulder. He looked under his red sleeve, cursing when he saw the state of his forearm. A long gash stretched from his wrist to the base of his elbow, and it was a lot deeper than Jay had originally thought.
He shimmied out of his shirt, wrapping it around his right arm.
Then he sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose.
“You’ve never failed that bad before,” he mumbled to himself. Jay shut his eyes, pushing back the sting of tears, and pressed his forehead to his knees. “Congratulations. You just reached a new low, loser.”
When the self-loathing threatened to swallow him, Jay’s mom had said to tell the mean voice in his head to shut up. But right now, he didn’t see any reason to. Everything the voice was saying was true. There was no point in denying it.
Jay’s arm burned. He refused to cry. “You should just quit!” he said angrily, shaking, “You’ll never invent something that actually works. Everything you try is worthless. Just like you are.”
He gripped his hair in his fist. This wasn’t the first time he’d thought about giving up inventing. Although this time, he was seriously considering it.
“Who are you talking to?”
Jay jumped and looked up. An old man with a long beard and funny hat was standing there, holding a walking stick at his side. Jay could’ve sworn he wasn’t there a second ago.
“Oh, um, uh... nobody, just myself,” Jay replied quietly.
“Why would you say such awful things about yourself, Jay?”
Jay jumped again and frowned at the old man. “How do you know my name?”
“Lucky guess,” the old man said, sitting across from Jay on an old coffee table. Some couple had gotten rid of it to buy a new one, so Jay’s dad had taken it. “Now, why do you think you are a loser?”
Jay huffed, feeling the sting of tears well up behind his eyes again. “I can’t do anything right,” he said.
“I doubt that’s true,” said the old man.
“It is,” Jay scrubbed at his face, “The only thing I’m good at is hurting myself.” He gestured at his arm.
“May I?” asked the old man, opening the seal on his bag. He took out a first aid kit.
“Sure. Thank you,” Jay said, holding out his arm.
The old man removed his bloody shirt and began dressing the wound.
“I think you underestimate your value,” the old man said.
Jay scoffed in disbelief, but didn’t say anything.
The old man spared him a glance before turning back to his injury. “Those who think they’re worthless have souls of gold,” he said.
Jay looked at his feet. Then slowly, he returned his gaze to the old man. “What are you doing out here, sir?”
“My name is Wu. Master Wu. And I am looking for someone special.”
Jay smiled a little. “I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone special in a junkyard.”
“Ah, but I have,” Master Wu told him.
Jay frowned. “Who? Where?” He looked around.
Master Wu started bandaging his arm. “You.”
Jay blinked. Then gawked. “Me. No, no way. Believe me, you don’t want anything to do with me. I’m nobody.”
“You sure talk fast,” Master Wu chuckled, “And yes, it’s you I’ve been searching for. I have reason to believe the power of lightning is in your veins.”
Jay was incredulous. “You think I have power?”
“Potentially.”
Jay stared at the man. “I think you’re crazy.”
Master Wu laughed. “I assure you, I am not crazy.”
“What would make you think I have powers then?”
“I knew... a relative of yours. She was the master of lightning. I believe that she’s passed her legacy to you.”
Jay blinked. “Really?”
Master Wu nodded, returning his first aid kit to his bag.
Jay moved his arm experimentally. “So, if I do have this power... what do you want with it?”
“You twisted my words,” said Master Wu, “I don’t want your power. I want to help you make it your own.”
Jay studied him uncertainly. “Why?”
Master Wu was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke, “Your mo—eh, relative was a friend of mine. Her dying wish was that you live a great life. If possible, I’d like to be apart of that life.”
Jay licked his lips, thinking. He looked at the junkyard. He looked at all his failed inventions. He looked down at his hands.
Thinking back, he always had felt a strange sort of connection to lightning storms. He’d always been scarily good at fixing the electricity when the power went out. Maybe those things were more than just quirks.
Maybe this old man wasn’t crazy.
Besides, he had nothing to lose and he needed a new hobby.
“Okay,” Jay said after thinking for a long time, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to live ‘this great life’ my relative wanted for me. But I’ll do what you say. And if I do have this ‘potential power’ after all, well, that’d be pretty cool.”
Master Wu’s expression softened suddenly, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “You’re the spitting image of her.”
Jay frowned. He wondered who Master Wu was talking about.
Then Master Wu cleared his throat. “I am glad you have agreed. Your training will begin tomorrow.”
Come tomorrow, Jay’s life would change completely.
Value
In the small,
lies the largest heart.
In the insecure,
lies the most confident love.
In the weak,
lies the greatest strength.
Those who think they’re worthless
have souls made of gold
Those who have been stomped on
have bones made of diamonds.
Those who don’t know their own value
are worth more than they could ever imagine.