In My Life

Well, you don't know what we can see

Why don't you tell your dreams to me

Fantasy will set you free

--John Kay



"You?" said Autolycus. "A professor? At Eton?"



"I was familiar with the subject matter. My specialty was the pre-classical era. Also coached football- well, what they called football. Americans call it soccer."



"I understand. Hey, I taught high school history myself back in the late 50's to early 60's up in Modesto."



"You were a teacher?"



"Yeah. It was fun. I loved the kids, they loved me. Their parents hated me, though."



"Why?"



"Oh, the usual. Telling the kids the truth the parents didn't want their kids to know. Encouraging original thought. Half surprised they didn't force me to drink hemlock."



"What were you teaching them?"



"Well, when we got to the unit on World War II, I told them the Nazis persecuted homosexuals. These kids were born in the middle of the War. Their parents obviously remembered it, but already they wanted to erase the things they weren't comfortable with. I was also the moderator for the debate club. The parents caused a big stink when I had them debate over whether or not war combat made someone great."



"It takes more than that." said Hercules. "I've known guys who knew nothing but fighting. Once the war was over, they didn't have anything."



Autolycus nodded and sipped his coffee. "I remember there was one student named George I tried to get into the club. Even though he was something of a greaser, he was imaginative, intelligent. His essays proved he could think rather than just record facts. But, he was kinda shy and non-confrontational."



"Not good debate material." Hercules observed.



"No. But, George loved stories. Loved hearing them, loved telling them. I guess back in our day, he would've been a bard. He wanted to be a racecar driver at first, but he got in an accident in senior year and changed his mind. George came to me for advice, and I suggested he find a way to share his stories and ideas with the rest of the world. He was a young man, still recovering from an injury from a frightening accident. He told me he was afraid. I told him not to be. I told him fear would lead him down a dark path he may never return from. If he just looked within himself, he could find the power to do anything."



"Sounds like you really inspired this young man."



"I like to think so." Autolycus said with a smile. "George loved hearing stories I told him about two daring smugglers named Hans and Günther who lived in Switzerland in World War II. At first, they were all about making the money, smuggling whatever for whoever. Then, the War started to concern them."



"Ah. Which one were you? Hans or Günther?"



"Hans. Yeah, in World War II, I was a smuggler for hire. I'd get the goods past the border; Günther would push it on the black market. Our relationship became more than just business when he invited me out to get a beer with him. Believe me, you haven't lived until you've had Swiss beer!"



"I've tried their cheese." Hercules replied. "And their chocolate is the best."



"At first, it was just a couple of beers and darts. Then, Günther and I started messing around. Then we started screwing around, which is like messing around, only without dinner first. After a while, we moved into a little chalet in the Alps together. It was just me, Günther and the Challenger."



"The Challenger?"



"We used a 1939 Studebaker Challenger on our runs. After a while, we were smuggling people as well as merchandise. Met the Von Trapp family that way. Nice bunch of people. I think Liesel had a crush on me."



"And you told George all about this?"



"I told him the PG-13 version of the story. And George told the world the same story, with several details changed. He made some movie called /Star Wars/. Maybe you've heard of it."



"You were George Lucas' history teacher?"



"And the inspiration for Han Solo. Hey, /that's/ who you should've gotten to play me in your TV series! Harrison Ford could've played me."



"Universal couldn't afford him /and/ the special effects." Hercules sipped his coffee. "You know, it kind of sounds like you may have also been the inspiration for Yoda."



"What, the little green guy who talked funny?" Autolycus chuckled. "The first time I saw /Star Wars/ back in '77, I was so shocked to hear the name 'Han Solo' that I choked on a Raisinette. Freddie and Brian both slapped me on the back until I coughed it up."



"Freddie and Brian?"



"A couple of guys I was hanging out with. Brian was something of an astronomer, so he wanted to check it out. Freddie liked the old Flash Gordon serials and I recognized George's name, so the three of us went."



"Still can't believe you were a high school teacher."



"Hey, that's no harder than believing you were in a three-way. It just doesn't seem like something you'd do. I was in one back in 1189. The people involved weren't so understanding. There was John, a big guy, kinda like you. Tall, strong, not too bright but a real sweetheart deep down. And then there was Marion. She was beautiful, kind, smart. I loved them both for different reasons. John made the decision for me. Considering the Church's stance on man-on-man at the time, he said it just made sense for me to be with Marion, so he let me go. After I got some legal problems sorted out, I married Marion and we had two boys and a girl. Named the girl Joanna after John. My boys Markus and James were just great. Marion died of the Plague about a year after James was born. Not long after, John's wife died in childbirth. She delivered twins, a girl and a boy named Barbara and Michael plus they already had a five year old girl." He smiled. "Her name was Roberta. After me, I guess."



Hercules put the clues together. "Autolycus, were you going by the name 'Robin Hood' by any chance?"



"Give the boy a cigar! Oops, forgot you don't smoke. I'll give you a celery stick then."



"So, you were Ali Baba, Robin Hood /and/ Han Solo?"



"I was going by the name Hans Zolo. Lucas got it wrong."



"So, I'm guessing Howard Pyle got a few things wrong about you too."



"You know better than anyone how legends can be convoluted, Hercules. All things are true, but few things are accurate."*



"No kidding." Hercules agreed. "So, what happened with you and Little John then?"



"Well, I invited John and his kids to move into Fitzwalter Manor with me. It started out as just a convenient arrangement, a way to look after our kids. Then, well, I guess John and I just picked up where we left off. Imagine a gay version of /The Brady Bunch/ set in Medieval England." He sighed. "The legends have it mixed up. It was John who was bled to death by a nun who wanted revenge. The Sherriff of Nottingham was her uncle. John died in my arms, making me promise not to kill the woman who did him in. That was just his way. By then, Roberta was married to Markus. Joanna found a position as a maid-in-waiting. James was esquired to a knight. Barbara joined a convent. And Michael went to sea. I was alone again- naturally."



"Yeah. It's hard." Hercules could sympathize. "You move on, you change your name, you start over. But you never forget what you left behind. I learned how to do stage make-up in 1600 to make it look like I was aging just so I could stay in one place longer. Which reminds me, I have to start adding crow's feet soon, or someone's going to start rumors that I'm going to a plastic surgeon."



"Can't you afford a real one?" Autolycus joked.



Hercules laughed. "Yeah, I probably could."



"You're never going to be in the tabloids, you know. The worst I've heard about you is that you're something of a health nut."



"I just believe people today put things in them that are bad for them. I've even started a charity devoted to children's health and fitness. Having a little trouble with the name, though."



"Call it 'Children Are Staying Healthy'." Autolycus suggested.



"It's to the point." Hercules observed.



"Yeah. When people make out checks to your charity, they can just use the initials. By the way, I'd be glad to help you collect funds."



"I'm sure you would." Hercules cocked an eyebrow. "You'd love to pick up checks made out to C.A.S.H."



"You know me too well!" Autolycus laughed. "But seriously, unless there's some secret sex tape of you and Sam out there, you're not getting in the tabloids."



"I don't think there's one."



"You don't drink, you don't use drugs, you just smile when someone tries to take a picture of you, you're not even a Scientologist and the meanest thing you've probably done to your kids is force them to eat vegetables."



"I don't force, I encourage."



"Yeah, but, let's face it, Octavia isn't going to write a /Daddy Dearest/ tell all when she grows up." Autolycus picked up his cup and did a Joan Collins impression. (Or, rather, an impression of Faye Dunaway doing a Joan Collins impression.) "No soda pops ever!"



"They can have them every once in a while." said Hercules, laughing at Autolycus' impression. "Just not every day. I'm not that big of a health nut. As you can see, I have coffee sometimes. I'll have ice cream with my kids every now and then. Moderation is the key."



"Moderation? Do people still use that word?" Hercules shrugged as Autolycus sipped his coffee. "So, tell me about your days as a teacher at Eton."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Quote borrowed from Greg Weisman's /Gargoyles/ comics.

A/N: Kevin Sorbo actually has started a charity called "A World Fit For Kids" devoted to children's health and fitness.



Something I should have mentioned in the notes of the last chapter: I'm not quite sure how much the Franc was in pre-Revolutionary France. Suffice that Jean-Pierre's room cost about as much as a cheap studio apartment in a moderate sized city, maybe less.

If you can guess who Freddie and Brian are based on the clues I've given you, you win a cookie!