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The (clandestine) sword of their father
Back in the 1980’s our Godkids dad was my roommate at engineering school. He, and most of my roommates, were into sword fighting. He had a sword that I broke when we were practicing up and down the hallways of the apartment. (We broke a lot that way…)
So, I promised to get him a new sword.
At that point we were both pretty poor students. (I mean, not much money. I was a poor student too. He was a good student who was poor.) There were times when I wasn’t sure I could afford food for the week, much less a sword. (My parents loaned me most of the money for school, but I had to pay for my own living expenses.)
So, a few years later when we graduated and I had a job, I decided that it was time to fulfill that promise.
My (now) wife liked science fiction conventions then and we knew that at the big one in Boston there was a man who sold some pretty cool swords. He actually made some props for the movie industry. So, maybe not 100% historically accurate, but still cool.
The sad part was, the science fiction convention had been kicked out of the city of Boston. Too many parties. Too many drunk people peeing off the top of the hotel.(It wasn’t me!) Too many people wandering around the city wearing all sorts of strange weapons. Too many fire alarms set off. Too many calls to the police.
So, the convention moved to another city 80 miles/130km away and made a list of rules:
Only "serious science fiction fans allowed".
No weapons of any kind, even on costumes.
No parties of any kind.
One call to any authority and everyone would be kicked out.
My (now) wife and I made the cut as serious fans and went to the convention.
As we looked around the dealers room, we saw the guy who used to sell swords selling other things.
We went over and looked. Nothing he had interested us.
"Too bad things went down this way," I said. "We had planned to buy a sword from you this year."
"Are you a cop?" he asked.
"No."
"Are you part of the convention staff?"
"No."
"Then, I have swords with me."
"You do?"
"Quiet! Don’t let anyone hear you!"
"Meet me in the parking garage across the street at 10 tonight. Bring cash. Don’t tell anyone!"
"OK…"
"I have what you want. Meet me there. Third floor. South west corner."
So, at 10 at night my wife and I went over to the garage and up to the third floor.
There was a van parked away from all the other cars in the south west corner.
It was February, and very cold.
He hopped out of the van with a flashlight.
"Do you have cash?" he asked.
"Not on us, but close by," I said. "If you’ve got something we like we can get it quickly."
"OK, good enough," he said.
He opened up the back of his van and did indeed have a large collection of swords, daggers and other hand held weapons.
"Pick fast, I can’t get caught!" he said.
We picked out a sword we thought our friend would like. Quickly retrieved the cash and bought it.
He wrapped it in some cloth and handed it to us.
"I don’t know you. I don’t know where you got this. If you’re caught with it I don’t know anything about it."
He got in his van and drove away.
My wife and I put it in the trunk of my car and walked back to the hotel.
We did get some strange looks from the door guard, but didn’t get kicked out of the convention.
Our friend loved his new sword.
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