Steven Davis was no stranger to powerlessness. When he was 28, a hit-and-run driver badly injured him while he was delivering packages. The accident left him with limited motor control in his lower body. Steven always remarked on how much love and support he received from his family and community – and how that support saved him.

As he built his unlikely second career as a lawyer (hold the jokes), he always aspired to act with the care shown by his community – and not with the dishonor of the driver who hit him and then fled the scene.

When Michael and Susan commissioned me to write a story in honor of Steven (their father), they told me this story – and many others besides. Those stories revealed two constants in Steven’s life. The first was that Steven always acted with honor. The second, closely intertwined value, was that he acted with care; care for those in need of help.

These twin values inspired the following story…

Camelot

I might be eight years old, but I’m not stupid. I know I’ve just set up a tarp around a pile of rocks. But bear with me, because as far as I’m concerned, this place is much more than that. No, as far I’m concerned, I’m sitting in the great room of a great castle, the famous Camelot. And before me is a massive table unlike any other. No, it isn’t round. I know that’s how the original story goes. But this one is a six-pointed star. And sitting at five of the points is a great Knight. Together, we form the Knights of the Six-Pointed Table.

I am, of course, their King. King Jason. Deep down, though? Deep down, I’m just one of the Knights. Sir Jason. And like any good Knight, I am there to fulfill the motto of my Camelot: “We Faithfully Serve Those in Need of Faith.”

Most afternoons after school, I come here. I sit around the table with my great Knights, and we tell each other stories of our great adventures. I like to stay here as long as I can. Even if it’s raining, we’ll hang out in our castle and share our greatest achievements as the storms pass over our battlements.

Sometimes, but not often, a kid from school will come and ask for our help. We sit them at the sixth point of the table – directly opposite me. They petition us for our assistance. We listen and decide whether their quest is worthy of our great order. We have taken on many such Quests.

Emma needed us to help find her Noble Lion, Meow Meow. Everybody else had given up looking, but we hadn’t. Richard wanted a fine present for his Queen’s (yes, his mom’s) birthday, but he didn’t have any treasure to trade for it. We travelled into the countryside, picked flowers and arranged them with stones that we put in an old tin can we found. His Queen was most pleased. Lisa needed help with a great Quest of her own, multiplication. However, nobody seemed to have time to help her. That one was really hard. But we did it.

We did it because “We Faithfully Serve Those in Need of Faith.” Those who have given up, and who others have given up on.

But I’m here, today, to tell you about another adventure, our greatest adventure of all. It all started one rainy winter afternoon. We expected no visitors. What kind of supplicant would choose to traverse our lands in such foul weather?

But, nonetheless, in the midst of the tempest, there came a great knocking on the castle doors. When we opened them, there stood a young man of seven years of age. He had been soaked through from the waters. I didn’t recognize him from the neighborhood. He was a pitiful sort. His eyes were downcast. He shuddered, even though it really wasn’t that cold. And he was scared. He was scared to ask for help. Even our help.

I welcomed the young man into our castle. I bid him to sit at the sixth point of the star, directly opposite me. And I asked him, in the kindest of voices, “What ails you, young traveler?”

The young man didn’t want to talk, not at first. Our kitchens turned up some fruit juice and a cracker. And we waited until the traveler was ready. Eventually, warmed by the castle fires, his bounds loosened by the drink and his soul comforted by our mighty Knights, he began to speak.

“I am Aaron. I live in a great stone house. And my father has disappeared.”

A great murmuring slung around the points of the table.

“Why didn’t you go to the police?” asked one of my Knights.

“Well, nobody else thinks he’s disappeared.”

“How can that be?”

“They can’t see it.”

“They can’t see what?”

“My father has disappeared. He’s been replaced by a troll.”

Suddenly, the only thing that could be heard was the rain on the tarp.

After a very long moment, I ask, in a quiet voice, “A troll? Are you sure?”

The tired traveler just nods, in pure resignation.

Trolls are the worst. They are powerful and violent and unpredictable. They mix into the world, just like everybody else. And they can impersonate anybody else. Even one’s own father. The thing is, you can’t tell they’re a troll until they transform themselves – like the Incredible Hulk, they become monsters in a moment. And then? Then it is too late to do anything about it.

“How long has it been?” I ask.

“I don’t know…” says the traveler, Aaron.

“Where’s your mother?”

“I’ve never met her.”

The Knights are in shock. I ask, as gently as I can, “What do you need?”

I hope he doesn’t want us to defeat the troll. Even with 5 brave Knights, a troll is no joke.

“I need to find my real father.”

The Knights exchange glances with one another.

“Do you know his name?”

Aaron, shakes his head. No.

“There’s nothing to work with!” says one of the Knights. He rises from the table and strides out the castle doors.

“Trolls are no joke. We stand with those who need faith, but dying for them won’t give them the faith they need.”

Another Knight rises and leaves.

“Maybe our visitor is confused? Maybe his father is the troll, and he is as well!” a third Knight is gone.

I turn to the last of the Knights, the great Sir Levi.

“And you, Sir?” I ask. “Will you flee in the face of this challenge?”

Sir Levi rises from his chair. Eyes downcast, he says, “I signed up for kittens.”

Then, he slinks from the castle, overcome by fear.

I can understand the fear. But I can also see the disappointment in young Aaron’s eyes. He was seeking faith, and he has found none.

Despite my own fear, I lift up my chin and announce, “I will take up your Quest!”

Aaron lifts his eyes, and they meet mine.

“I will find your true father.”

He needs Faith, and so we must be Faithful.

My Quest starts that very night. I go back to the great stone house, a concrete duplex on Evergreen Road. We sneak into the house together, opening the door as smoothly and quietly as we can manage. I see him then, the troll. His back is to us and he’s standing in front of the refrigerator. We rush by and up the stairs, hoping that we are not noticed by the frightening creature.

We reach Aaron’s chambers safety.

“What’s the plan?” whispers the young Squire.

“When the troll goes to sleep, we will find your true identity, and that of your true father.”

From the floor below, we hear a great bellowing. “BOY, I KNOW YOU’RE HERE!”

Aaron is quaking in fear. As footsteps begin to stomp up the stairs, we sneak into the cupboard, hiding as best we can. The door slams open. The troll is there. His stinky breath seems to fill the room. His red eyes seem to burn with anger. But he does not see us, hidden as we are.

“I could have sworn I heard the boy,” he mutters. Then he closes the door and heads back to the kitchen. We stay there for what seems like forever. We listen as the troll moves from room to room on the floor below. And then, eventually, there is silence.

We emerge from the cupboard then. We sneak down the stairs. The troll, bottle in hand, has passed out on the couch. We sneak past him and into his bedroom. And then, drawer by drawer, we search for whatever we can find.

It seems like weeks have passed before we find it: a Birth Certificate!

On it, printed clearly, are the names of Aaron, his father and his mother. I read it out. Aaron Brown, born to Janet and Moses Brown.

“Do you remember her?” I ask, pointing at Janet’s name. Aaron shakes his head, no. With that, we flee back to Aaron’s own quarters.

“What now?” asks the young Squire.

I say, “I’ll meet you tomorrow, at the castle.”

I spend the whole night searching online. But I can’t find a Moses Brown who is anywhere near the right age, much less one who is missing a son. The only one listed seems to be the impersonator, the troll. And Janet? She died 6 years earlier, and she’s buried outside Springfield.

I soon realize there’s no way to find the real Moses Brown. For the first time as King Jason of the Knights of the Six-Pointed Table I don’t know what to do.

I can’t fight the troll, and I can’t find the man who is meant to fight that troll.

After school the next day, I go back to my Camelot. The Young Squire Aaron is there waiting for me, but none of the other Knights have come. As I open the great castle doors and stride towards the Six-Pointed Table, I realize what I need to do. Until Aaron’s real father comes back, I must step in. I am only eight, but we are Faithful to Those in Need of Faith.

“Have you found him?” asks the hopeful Squire.

“No,” I say. “I will keep looking. But for now, you need somebody to do what he would do. So, if you need help – a father’s help – I want you to come to me. As the King of my Camelot, I will do whatever I can to help.”

That was how it all began. The very next day, Aaron came to me.

He was crying. “Nobody likes me at school. They think I’m weird.”

I sit on my throne, and I ponder his challenge. It is a great one. And then I say, “You are weird. But that’s not why they pick on you. They pick on you because they are jealous of just how incredibly brave you are. Some children are scared to even cross a bridge with a troll. But you – you live in a troll’s house! You are braver and stronger than any of them. Let them see how strong you are, and they will follow you.”

Aaron nods, thinking about my words. “Am I really braver than any of them?”

“You really are,” I say, letting my true admiration fill my voice.

Several weeks pass before Aaron next visits my Camelot.

“I’m scared.” he says.

“Scared of what?” I ask.

“Scared of the troll, scared of doing badly in school, scared that nobody will like me.”

I smile then. “I’m King Jason, of the Knights of the Six-Pointed Table. I have been on many frightening Quests. I have faced fear. And I can tell you; it is okay to be afraid. It can even save you from danger. Sometimes, though, it can seem like there’s nowhere to run. A dragon may have cornered you; a lava river may be flowing towards you; a gang of evil knights might be about to overwhelm you. Do you know what I do then?”

“No,” says Aaron.

“I tell the stupidest joke I can think of.”

“Like what?”

“Like ‘What is Camelot famous for?”

“What?” asks Aaron.

“Its Knight Life.”

Aaron groans, but he grins just a little.

“Sometimes, we can’t control what will happen to us,” I tell him, “But sometimes a simple joke can stop us from being blinded by our fear.”

“King Jason…” asks Aaron, “What do you call a Knight with no arms and no legs slithering through the grass?”

“I don’t know,” I say.

“Sir Pent,” Aaron announces, with a smile.

After a hearty laugh, he is, once again, on his way.

It seems like months pass before he visits again.

“I want to destroy things,” he says. “I want to hurt people. I even want to hurt myself.”

I sigh deeply. “I understand,” I say.

“You do?” asks Aaron, “You, a noble knight, wants to destroy things?”

“One time I found myself alone, with no knights, in a faraway land. I had to return here, to my Camelot. It seemed impossible to do. I wanted to give up before I even started. I wanted to scream and shout. But one step at a time, one challenge at a time, I managed it. The fact is, there is no such thing as a simple quest. And there is no such thing as a giant step. Everything requires many many little steps. Tiny steps. And each step can build. And even if a troll has you locked up, you can still take those steps. They are just... smaller. But you can take them, and eventually you will be free.”

We sit and talk then, drinking our juice as I share the stories of my most challenging Quests. Eventually Aaron stands. As he leaves the great castle he says, “One step at a time.”

“One step,” I say, as I watch him walk out into the night.

“Is there a G-d?” asks Aaron, the next time he comes. The young man is growing braver, more confident. And, somehow, he is finding a path forward.

“Of course,” I say, as any noble Knight would.

“Then why has a troll driven away my father?”

“Do you know Lady Elizabeth?” I ask.

“Of course,” says Aaron, “She is our teacher.”

“Yes,” I say. “And is she the fairest damsel in the land?”

“Well, yes. Everybody knows that.”

“Ah, but they don’t know why – do they?”

“No. Why is she the fairest damsel in the land?”

“It is all in her eyes. When she was just a little girl, a teenager, she rescued her brother. She carried him for hundreds of kilometers – through the heat of the Ethiopian desert. She carried him away from a Kingdom of Great Danger and brought him here. She is a rescuer.”

“That makes her beautiful?”

“Yes. She shines with an inner beauty. She accomplished a great quest – perhaps the greatest I have ever seen. Thus, she has a beauty that is truly deep within her.”

Aaron nods.

“My dear Squire,” I say, “Sometimes Knights must seek out great Quests. And sometimes, as with you, the Quests come to them. But if they can complete them – it they can survive them – then they will be like Lady Elizabeth. Beautiful beyond words.”

Aaron ponders for a minute. And then he asks, “What happens when we die?”

“Have you ever heard of the great Sir Judah?”

“No,” says Aaron.

“Neither had I. But his is the motto of the Knights of the Six-Pointed Table. ‘We Faithfully Serve Those in Need of Faith.’ Even though you had no idea who he was, he is still a part of your life. Whatever happens to you after death, the virtues you share with the world will be a part of forever.”

I watch Aaron then, from a distance. I watch him grow. But he is still so deeply troubled.

Then he comes to me one final time.

“How do you defeat a troll?” he asks.

I never thought it would get to this. But I can see in his eyes that it must. Despite everything, he can’t live with the monster any longer.

I think long and hard about what to do. Three days and three nights pass. I know the troll himself has promised all sorts of consequences. Resistance will come at a cost. When Aaron comes on the third day, I tell him how he will defeat the monster.

The very next day, Aaron stays behind after class. I watch from a distance as he walks up to Lady Elizabeth, our teacher. The woman looks down at him with kindly eyes. As he stands there, I can almost taste his words in my own mouth.

“Morah Elizabeth?” he asks.

“Yes?” she says, as she places her papers in her bag.

“Miss Elizabeth, can I show you something?”

“Of course.”

With that Aaron shows her something he has never shown another soul. He lifts his shirt and shows her the bruises that the troll has left behind.

Lady Elizabeth is shocked by what she sees. She kneels before him and embraces him.

“Who did this?” she asks, whispering into his ear.

“My father,” says Aaron.

Her arms still around him, Lady Elizabeth pulls her face away. Staring into his eyes she utters a sacred promise. “That man will never touch you again.”

Aaron looks back at me then, watching from the corner of the room.

“Thank you,” he mouths, silently, “Thank you for saving me.”

It is then that I feel myself being pulled into him.

I feel Miss Elizabeth embracing me.

And I realize that I, Jason Aaron Brown, will be okay.

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