Powers Enhanced

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWOBlue

“Mom, did you get all my school supplies? I don’t want to miss anything,” I ask Susan as I help her set the table.

“Garrett, don’t worry,” she smiles, tucking in a loose strand of her dark brown hair. “I have sent four children to school over a span of fourteen years. I think I know what’s needed for a good start of the school year.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to doubt your abilities. I’m just a little nervous.”

Susan pauses as she pours the stroganoff into a bowl. “You’re right. It is a little different for you going to school.”

I place the glasses as I think about her remark.

When I first found out that I was growing a physical year a week, I had thought I would be dead in just under two years.

But then my growth slowed down, to a year a month, and suddenly, attending a year of school didn’t seem so implausible.

I know some people might wonder why I'm choosing to subject myself to high school. I know for a lot of kids, it's not their favorite place. In fact, they would rather be anywhere except that Mecca of teenage angst.

The thing is, since I was "outed" by the tornado as a kid who grew fast, Jack and Susan relaxed some of the rules that had been put in place to keep my physical oddities a secret. All the kids could have friends over again, and I know that Michelle was the happiest about that.

She has two best friends, and I think they spent more time at our house during the summer than their own. Michelle is a different person when she's surrounded by her friends. Before the tornado, I only knew her as someone in a perpetually bad mood. Of course, I was the reason for that bad mood, so of course that's all I saw.

However, once she found out that I had healed her during the tornado, she had had a complete change of heart. We’d reached an understanding to just forget about the awkwardness from before.

Seeing Michelle interact with her friends made me want some of my own. Don't get me wrong, I love hanging out with my family. Natalie and I still share our special bond, even though I now tower over her, and we make it a point to do something fun together a few times a week.

But my family no longer scratches all of my social itches. I want to see if I can make friends by being myself. If there will be people out there who will choose to be with me. I know it's scary to put myself out there like that, but I feel a real need to belong to a group other than my family.

And I need a place where there are a lot of other kids besides me. Rick suggested that since I know so much already, that maybe college would be a good fit for me. However, Meriwether doesn't have as so much as a community college. I'd have to move to Omaha or Kansas City or Des Moines, and I'm not ready to leave the Stillwells. So, high school it is.

I had mentioned my desire in passing to Mark Johnson when I was helping with the clean-up, not really expecting anything to come from it.

But Mark had gotten together with Jim Hunsaker, who’s on the school board. Jim was someone else whom I had healed. I had reattached four of his fingers, and he decided to repay the favor by getting me into high school.

It took a bit of doing, since I didn’t have a social security number, or any school record at all, but last week, Jim and Mark had surprised me a school card with my picture.

Now, with school starting in just four days on Monday, the jitters are setting in. Will I make those friends I want? Or will everyone shun me as the kid with the weird growing disease? Was this really a good idea?

But I resolve not to say anything, especially tonight. Jeff is leaving for the University of Iowa tomorrow, and I don’t want to detract from this special dinner Susan has set up.

Susan calls out that dinner is ready, and soon enough, everyone is eating at the table. Jack is at the head of the table, sitting with military erectness, with Susan next to him. Next is Jeff, nineteen years old, who waited a year to work for his dad before heading to college. Michelle is seventeen, and will be a senior like me.

Natalie is twelve, and the one I get along with best. Our personalities are very much in sync. Lastly, there’s Jason, who at eight years old, is the baby of the family.

But there’s a somber pall over the dinner table. Everyone can feel that tomorrow, the Stillwell family will be missing one of their members.

Soon it’s too much for Jason.

“I don’t want you to go!!” he sobs, covering his face with his hands. His cowlick stands straight up.

Jeff jumps up from the dinner table, and moves over to his chair. “Jason, it’s okay. I know, the University of Iowa seems really far, but it’s only three hours away.”

Michelle also gets up to comfort her little brother. “Jeff will be home on the weekends,” she says, sweeping her blond hair away from her face. “He made Mom and Dad promise not to change his room, so he’ll have a place to stay when he comes home.”

Jason’s cries quiet as he digests their words. “You’ll come home a lot?” he asks Jeff hopefully.

Jeff nods. “Absolutely. I have to come home so that Mom can do my laundry.” Susan chuckles along with the others, and Jason gives a glimmer of a smile.

The mood lifts a little from the gloomy cloud it was before.

Jack stands up. “Now that we’re not so depressed, I think it’s a good time to give Garrett his present.”

I’m poleaxed. “What? A gift? For me?”

Jason’s face erupts in a wide grin. “Yeah! Garrett’s gift!”

I get up, confused, and am chivvied out the door by Jack, the slew of family close behind.

From the fanfare, I expected to see a large wrapped box with a bow on top waiting for me, but there’s nothing. Jeff’s car, a twenty-year old Volkswagen GTI, is sitting in the driveway, but that’s normal. I glance around, surreptitiously looking for anything that resembles a gift.

Jeff stops next to me. “What do you think?”

I look around again, wondering what he’s talking about. “What do I think of what?”

The grin is evident in his voice. “The car. I’m giving it to you.”

I do a double take on Jeff’s face. He’s owned that GTI for his entire high school career, and loved it almost more than his girlfriend, Ashley. “Are you serious?!” I yelp. “What are you going to drive?”

“Oh, I bought a newer car with my money I earned. I don’t need this one anymore, but I don’t want to sell it. I want to, you know, keep it in the family. Michelle has her own car, so you’ll probably carpool most days, but it’s really freeing to have your own set of wheels. So... it’s yours.”

He dangles the keys in front of my face, and I snatch them away. I hear the delighted laughter from the rest of the Stillwells as I race around to the driver’s door. The clear coat over the dark red paint is peeling, but I don’t care. I open the door and scoot into the driver’s seat. Jeff crouches in the open door next to me.

“You’re going to have to learn how to drive a stick shift, and the clutch is a little hard to push in, but it’s a great car. It’s old enough that Dad can fix anything wrong with the engine, so it will go for another 100,000 miles, at least.”

I still can’t believe it. And now the loss of my bicycle isn’t that much of a trial anymore.

But then I think of something, and my happiness deflates like a slashed tire. Jeff immediately notices my mood change.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?” he asks, his tone worried.

“No,” I assuage him, “the car is great. It’s just that, I can’t drive it. I don’t have a driver’s license.” I slump out of the car, totally dejected.

“Oh, is that all you’re worried about?” asks Jack, who walks up next to Jeff. “Well, this should solve that problem.” He holds out a small rectangular piece of plastic. I can see my grinning face peering out from a corner.

I grab it from his hand and hold it up. The driver’s license looks pretty official. I check my hair (blond), my eyes (grey), and my age (seventeen). My birthday is the 13th of March, the same day I was found.

“How is this possible?” I gasp. Then I make a guess. “Mark,” I state, grinning. Jack nods.

“Well, we were already creating a birth certificate so that you could attend high school, and Mark thought we might want to create a driver’s license as well,” explains Susan. “We put the age at seventeen since you look that old. No need to get into any involved explanations about your growth with state troopers, in case you’re pulled over. But that won’t be an issue, now will it, young man?” Her stern tone is betrayed by the smile in her eyes.

I throw a mock salute. “No, Ma’am. Absolutely not.” I look back over the GTI, wanting to drive it right then, but also knowing that the dinner was important. “I’ll take a test drive after dinner. That way, the stroganoff won’t get cold.”

“Thanks, Garrett!” remarks Jason. “I hate cold stroganoff.” Everyone chuckles as we head back inside.

We sit down again, the mood much more rambunctious now. I knew Susan had been feeling the upcoming departures as well, and seeing me happy has done a lot to comfort her. Jeff’s assurances that he would be home a lot probably did its part as well.

As I look at the Stillwells’ interactions, I decide something. I need to tell them something while they’re all together.

I push my chair back, and stand up. I clink my knife on my glass to make sure I have everyone’s attention. As six pairs of eyes fasten on me, I begin.

“I just want you all to know how much you mean to me. When you found me, no one had any idea what was in store for me. But at each new development that has come along, pretty much everyone has been there, supporting me in everything.”

I feel the deep love for the Stillwells stirring within me, and I know that tears are on their way.

“When I started growing two months a night, you just found clothes for me that would fit. And when I showed up that afternoon after receiving the red cylinder, suddenly the size of a six-year old, you didn’t kick me out of the house. When my powers would come upon me, and I would accidentally break something, no one became annoyed or exasperated. Even though you could have spent the money elsewhere, you took your time and money to convert the attic into a bedroom for me, and now you’ve even given me a car.”

I deliberately gloss over the fact that Michelle was the sole exception to my litany. Jeff and Jack had taken a bit to accept me as well, but that had been resolved when I saved Jason from drowning.

I feel the tears welling up, and I notice that Susan and Natalie have mirror expressions. “I don’t know how I came to be here in Meriwether, but I don’t think it was luck. I’m just so grateful that I was put in a spot to be found by you. I can’t imagine living with a better family.”

Susan opens her mouth to say something, but she doesn’t get the chance.

A low humming fills the room.

What?? No!! I didn’t do anything! I don’t need anything, either! A feeling of dread washes over me, quickly displacing the love that had been there before.

I look wildly around, searching for the source, when Natalie yells, “Look!!”

I follow her pointed finger, and finally see it.

The familiar cylindrical shape is actually rising from the table, between the corn and the salad. I stoop to see underneath the table, but there’s nothing there.

Somehow, the cylinder is growing from the tabletop. It’s like I’m watching Mary Poppins pull a six foot tall lamp from her carpet bag. I realize that this cylinder is a brilliant sapphire.

It’s almost reached its standard one-foot height. The excruciating pain is only a few moments away.

“Dad, could you take Jason outside?” I grunt, my jaw already clenched as I await my fate.

Jack looks at me, surprise fleeting over his face. Then understanding dawns in his eyes. He shepherds his young son out of the room.

Jason gives me one last look as he leaves, but I don't acknowledge it. Instead, I push the chairs next to me away, so that I won’t kick them in my torments.

The two antennas fully extend, and that horrible keening fills the air. The cylinder begins flashing blue, and the noise swells.

I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut, but I already know it won't do any good. The light and sounds cut right through them. I know that no one else heard the yellow and purple cylinders. They saw the flashes, but that was it. No, these sounds are for me. It’s like listening to a high-pitched ringtone that only I can hear.

The cylinder is screaming now, louder than a jet engine, the pulsing so quick that I can’t tell one flash from another.

I fall onto my back as I feel points of agony erupt in my body. It feels like holes are being drilled through my hands, feet, and gluteus maximus. Small lines of fire burn along my veins, from my torture spots to my brain.

I’m almost completely encompassed by the pain, when I feel something lift my head. The hard floor is replaced by something soft. I want to look, but can’t imagine opening my eyes. Screams threaten to escape, but only a few grunts pass my lips.

I curl my hands over my chest, clenching and unclenching my fingers as I fight the pain. My legs flail, and I arch to take the weight off my lower back. The blue light shines unerringly through my skull, and the cacophony assaults my eardrums

I don’t know how long the cylinder lasts, but like every other time, it's suddenly just gone.

The lights and noise wink out so quickly that I’m still writhing on the ground for a few seconds more. It’s then I realize that the agony has vanished.

My hands, feet, and rear end are slightly sore, but even that’s fading quickly. I open my eyes, and see Susan’s upside down face staring back at me. I realize that she’s kneeling on the floor, my head propped up on her lap. Tears are streaking down her cheeks

“Oh, Garrett, it hurts me to see you in so much pain,” she murmurs, her fingers lightly stroking my hair. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” I begin to say, but a wave of dizziness sweeps over me. “Whoa. I’m feeling just a bit lightheaded.”

I shut my eyes again, but the feeling increases. Vertigo rushes over me, and it feels like I’m floating.

“Garrett!” I hear Susan’s desperate voice, and then a hand clamps around my arm. It feels like she's pulling me away.

My eyes burst open, and I find myself in a very strange position. I'm lying on my side, my feet pointed slightly toward the ceiling, with Susan hanging onto my arm. Oh yeah, one more thing. I’m floating. As in, not touching anything, just hanging out in the air.

Hopefully this doesn’t reflect poorly on my character, but I panic.

“Whooooa” I yell, as I flail my arms and legs. I accidentally pull free of Susan’s grasp, and thus lose my only anchor.

I quickly rise, my body flipping over in the air. I hold out my hands, but I'm not quick enough to keep myself from slamming against the ceiling. It knocks the breath out of me for a second, and I get up on my hands and knees, wheezing for air. I shift my weight as the plaster digs into my skin.

I lift my head to look back to the ground, but the vertigo makes me close my eyes. It’s too weird looking down at everyone, when my brain says I should be looking up.

Susan and the kids gaze at me with wide eyes. “Jack!” she yells, and Jack strides back into the room, followed closely by Jason.

“What happened?” he says, and then sees me on the ceiling. His mouth drops open.

“Cool!!” comes Jason’s response. I guess it would be pretty neat from his standpoint, suddenly being able to walk on the ceiling. Right now, I just want to know if I can get down.

“Jack, do you mind...?” I say as I hold out a trembling hand. I didn’t realize my hands were shaking until right then. This floating thing has really unnerved me.

“Yeah, of course,” he quickly responds, and reaches up to clench both of his hands around mine in a firm grip.

“Ready?” he asks, looking up at me. I nod apprehensively. I really hope he has the strength to pull me down, otherwise I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’d never be able to leave this house, that’s for sure.

“One, two, three!”

In a quick pull, I’m yanked off the ceiling. I didn’t expect it to be so easy.

Neither did Jack. He stumbles backwards, and lets go of my hand. I ascend once more, and I’m too surprised to catch myself again. Once more, I bang into the ceiling.

“Ow,” I say, and rub my knee. I’ll have a nice bruise there. Unless my healing power gets there first.

“Okay, let’s try that again,” says Jack, and this time there’s no buildup. He grabs my arm, and pulls me down until my feet touch. He keeps his hands on my shoulders to keep me grounded.

“How much buoyancy do you think I have?” I ask him.

Jack looks thoughtful. “I would call it around twenty-five, maybe thirty pounds.”

I blow air out forcefully. It's not as bad as it could be. At first, I was thinking that we would need to equal my bodyweight to get me back on the ground.

But what am I going to do? This new power came at the worst possible time. There were a lot of things done, illegal and not, to get me registered for high school. Am I going to have to give it all up because of that stupid blue cylinder?

I groan, and bury my face in my hands. I haven't even started high school yet, and already I'm feeling angst. I'm off to a great start.