Ch05En: Episode 1
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I wake up on my couch at home, each of my parents on a recliner. I’ve got one parent on each side of me. It’s my father, on my left, who is the first to speak.
“Looks like someone’s awake. How’re you feeling, Frankie?”
“Hazy, I guess. What happened?”
“I’ll tell you what didn’t happen,” my mother begins. “You didn’t gain absolute control of your senses and focus on touch or smell over hearing. And you didn’t become ethereal, eliminating the effect the sound waves being directed at you would have. You didn’t even show the slightest hint that you might fly away. All common characteristics of a Ch05En gene. If your gene came to fruition whilst you were placed in peril, it wasn’t with anything that will help me in any of my undertakings in the immediate future.”
“Mom…you…you did that to me?” This isn’t the first time she’s tried to kill me to activate my gene. I don’t know why I’m surprised.
“Of course I did, dear.” See?
“Oh my god, mom! That’s ridiculous! I could have been killed! And what about dad?! What if he had come down with me?”
“Oh dear, you were never really in danger. Nor was your father. Even more so for him, really.”
I turn to my father, “Wait, dad…you were in on this?”
“Ah, Frankie, don’t be like that. Dr. Richfield said it would be a good…well, what did he say, honey?”
“A connection exercise, darling.”
“That’s right, it was a connection exercise. To help reestablish the bonds between your mother and me. She’s promised to help me encourage you to go back to college for business and I’ve promised to help her whenever she has another idea for how your gene might activate. It’s only a compromise when both parties feel like the other is making an effort too.”
“What about the third party? What if I’m tired of finding acceptance letters underneath my pillow? What if I don’t want to have to worry about the next time a boulder might be falling on my head?!”
“Oh, dear, not the boulder again.” My mother turns further towards me. Only her mouth remains of the face I knew most of my life. The rest is covered with scar tissue from multiple surgeries. The glow from her bionic eyes begins to feel cold in spite of the warmth I’m sure her processors produce. “That was one time. We know you’ve neither super strength nor speed. Another boulder would be a waste of time and resources. Each attempt is costly enough.”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m such a burden!”
After that, I’d had it with the conversation. My father calls after me as I make my way out of the house, but I’ve already taken my keys out of my pocket. My car feels like the only safe place I have right then. I’m so happy the place I feel safest has wheels.
Another side effect of having a super powered parent is that your circle of friends quickly dwindles. It wasn’t long after my mother became a villain until I had no one, so it’s been that way for a while. I was so angry when I left the house that my actions became automatic. Streams of curses at my parents poured from my lips and my lizard brain took over as pilot, starting the car. At least someone was driving, I wouldn’t have known where to go.
I’m still shaking my head at how inconsiderate both of my parents are, not paying much attention to anything else, before I even realize that I’ve traveled twenty blocks and have put my car into park.
I go to check my hat in the mirror. Seeing that it isn’t there breaks my routine, and my mind comes back to the present. I look around and see a familiar neighborhood. I’ve delivered here before, haven’t I? The knowledge hits my brain like a sledgehammer as I realize where I am.
I’ve driven to Sabrina’s house.
The awkwardness is already palpable and all I’m doing is sitting in my car.
This is dumb. Why am I even here? I need to turn my car back on, shift into drive and go to a park or something. This is borderline creepy. I’m turning the key in my ignition when there’s a tapping at my window.
Sabrina. I can’t believe she snuck up on me like that. I’ve only been here a few moments. My windows have a pretty dark tint. Maybe she won’t…
“Frank? What are you doing here?” Unbuckle seat belt. Try to think of something that doesn’t make you sound like a creep. I get out of my car. I smell pretty ripe; I guess I forgot to turn my AC on during the drive over here. And I already know I have an extreme case of hat-head.
“Oh. Hey Sabrina. I…forgot…something?”
“You did?” She actually sounds convinced, “Well, what’s up?”
“Well, after I left, I started thinking about Mr. Allerben. The English teacher. We had him together, didn’t we?”
“You know, I think we did. Where is this going?”
“I’m pretty sure I lent you a pen once, didn’t I?” I’m reaching here, but not very far. I fell into being the pen kid back then. You know the kid I’m talking about. My dad bought in bulk, so I had one of those packs of thirty pens in my backpack. You came to me when you needed a pen.
Okay, so I’m reaching pretty far.
“You probably did. My backpack was always a mess.”
“Right. I totally did. I lent you a pen and…I came to see if you were finished with it.”
She smiles.
“There’s a pen in your shirt pocket, Frank. In front of your notepad.”
“Oh, well…”
“Frank, it’s alright.”
“It is?”
She reaches for the pen and pad. I don’t even flinch, an act I hope to look back on as being calm in the face of danger, rather than immobilized by fear. I can’t see what she’s writing, but I can tell they’re numbers. When she’s finished, the puts the pad and pen back into my pocket.
“There. Give me a call later. You’ve got to get going now, though. It’s getting late. I’ve got to finish getting dinner ready before my parents get home.”
“Oh, you cook? Me too! I make a great pan-seared-“
“Frank. Later.” She smiles again and I want to melt. I don’t even say anything as I get back into my car. She keeps smiling and it’s everything I can do not to stare in my rear-view mirror as I drive away.
Maybe that’s what my gene does? I heard about a boy last week in South America who was expelled from school after getting into a fist fight with four kids. At the end of the fight, they were all shaking hands and hugging. Then, almost all at once, every girl in the school, even administrators, wouldn’t stop following him around. I heard they had to put him in a bubble for the rest of the day. He was throwing out pheromones at ridiculous levels.
Now, I do check my rear-view. My windows are rolled down, the sun is setting and the heat of the day has nearly gone. I stop at a red light and look to my left. There’s a woman in the car next to me. I call out to her and she rolls down her window.
The silence that follows is no doubt awkward for her. I actually don’t say anything. I just kind of nod my head a few times and raise my eyebrows. The light turns green and she drives away.
So much for pheromones.