“Who knows? In a thousand years, even you may be worth something.”
–René Belloq, to Indiana Jones
This past weekend I set shovel to dirt in the backyard of the home I grew up in, which just so happens to be three blocks from where I currently live. The plan is to create a garden in my dad’s backyard because the sun’s life-giving rays shine generously there – unlike my own backyard which could be likened to the Valley of the Shadow of Vegetable Death. The location I selected housed a sandbox once upon a time. But twenty years of disuse has removed all trace of it.
Claiming space for a garden out of unsullied lawn turf could be favorably compared to homesteading in the pioneer days, I think. It involves a lot of digging and sweating, for instance, and perhaps some wiping of the brow while scowling up at the burning sun. It leaves you with a thirst for a cold brew and a yearning to be somewhere else. But as I turned over one shovelfull of dirt and began breaking up the clod, an unmistakeably action-figure-like shape protruded from the grass roots. I pried the toy out the clay and wiped away the bigger chunks of soil, and the figure that emerged was none other than Han Solo: smuggler, gambler, hero of the Battle of Yavin, loveable scoundrel.
And lost toy.
And now here he was, nearly perfectly preserved after twenty years of tranquil waiting beneath the sod.
Han had been a stocking stuffer (circa 1984?), but to be honest, my Star Wars affection did not begin till much later in life, and I don’t think I really had any idea who Han Solo was at the time. He still received playing time (together with Admiral Ackbar, who was his stocking mate), and clearly made it out to the sandbox from which he never returned. Perhaps the sarlaac got him after all, in this timeline.
A good washing revealed that he’s in pretty good shape. Some of the paint has flecked from his hair, and his hands (tortured by Jabba’s guards, no doubt), but his limbs are all still accounted for and his paint job has weathered well enough. My daughter doesn’t mind the wear and tear. When I brought him home, she immediately fell in love. Han is now living the easy life, sleeping in the baby crib in her Fisher Price Little People house and hob-knobbing with some very friendly farm animals. Probably a better retirement than moving to Coruscant with Princess Leia to rebuild the New Republic, when you think about it.
