“Super powers.” She leaned way back in her booth; I couldn’t tell if it was an expression of skepticism or an attempt to be as far away from me as the seating would allow.
“Yeah,” I said, looking away. “I know.” I carefully resisted the urge to reach for my coffee; after the laptop incident this morning, I had no idea how to interact with things in my environment.
“So... you can show me these superpowers, yes? They’re not just something that only happens when you’re by yourself?”
This reaction was why I called Jill in the first place; skepticism and level-headedness are assets when you’re trying to come up with explanations.
I very, very carefully reached into the pocket of my jacket to retrieve a small crowbar. It was octagonal in profile, maybe three-quarters of an inch thick, less than a foot long, perfect for pulling nails. Using a careful thumb-and-forefinger grip with each hand, I bent the thing into a ring, then set it on the table.
Jill reached over and picked it up. It was a little warm from being bent. She rapped it against the table a couple of times, then tried to pull it straight.
“Okay,” she said, “I’m no metallurgist, but that looks like iron. I’ll tentatively accept the ‘superpowers’ hypothesis.” She set the bent ring of crowbar back down on the table. “So you just woke up this morning able to bend iron bars?”
“I woke up this morning two hours late to find my alarm clock bashed to tiny pieces.”
“And you’re positive you weren’t like this yesterday.”
“I can barely touch anything without breaking it. I pounded my laptop into scrap trying to send you email.”
“It’s a good thing you don’t have a dog.”
“This isn’t funny, I don’t even know how to eat.”
“So how did you send me email?”
“I used a pencil eraser, applying force laterally to the pencil so over-power wouldn’t drive the pencil through my phone.” I looked up as the waitress arrived to take our orders.
The waitress was looking down at the crowbar. “Oh,” she said, “Did one of you get superpowers?”
Jill and I both sort of cocked our heads at her.
“‘Cause it happened to my cousin one time, she just woke up one morning and started bashing the hell out of everything.”
“Do... I mean...” I took a deep breath. “I have several questions,” I said. “Is this something that happens a lot? Does anybody know why? And... what did she do?”
The waitress held up one finger. “Yes,” she said. She held up a second finger. “It’s the old Navy research facility outside of town, it spews out gamma radiation or something sometimes.” Third finger. “There’s a foundation that helps with, like, physical therapy and stuff. You’re going to have to learn how to eat again. And they’ll find you a job or whatever, that helps you, you know, make constructive...”
“So there’s not a cure or anything.”
“Huh uh.” She flipped her pony-tail back and forth when she shook her head. “That’s why the foundation, it’s part of the settlement with the Navy...”
I looked at Jill helplessly. “Did you know any of this?”
Jill sort of half-shrugged, half shook her head. She lived two towns over. “I told you not to move to the sticks,” she said. “Weird shit happens out here.”
She looked up at the waitress. “I’d like a western ommlette,” she said. “And... is there anything you can do for my friend, in terms of being able to get breakfast?”
The waitress looked at me sideways, as though I were a problem that she and Jill were working on together.
“I’ll bring the rubber fork,” she said. “And we have some soft latex coffee mugs.”
“Yeah,” I said, looking away. “I know.” I carefully resisted the urge to reach for my coffee; after the laptop incident this morning, I had no idea how to interact with things in my environment.
“So... you can show me these superpowers, yes? They’re not just something that only happens when you’re by yourself?”
This reaction was why I called Jill in the first place; skepticism and level-headedness are assets when you’re trying to come up with explanations.
I very, very carefully reached into the pocket of my jacket to retrieve a small crowbar. It was octagonal in profile, maybe three-quarters of an inch thick, less than a foot long, perfect for pulling nails. Using a careful thumb-and-forefinger grip with each hand, I bent the thing into a ring, then set it on the table.
Jill reached over and picked it up. It was a little warm from being bent. She rapped it against the table a couple of times, then tried to pull it straight.
“Okay,” she said, “I’m no metallurgist, but that looks like iron. I’ll tentatively accept the ‘superpowers’ hypothesis.” She set the bent ring of crowbar back down on the table. “So you just woke up this morning able to bend iron bars?”
“I woke up this morning two hours late to find my alarm clock bashed to tiny pieces.”
“And you’re positive you weren’t like this yesterday.”
“I can barely touch anything without breaking it. I pounded my laptop into scrap trying to send you email.”
“It’s a good thing you don’t have a dog.”
“This isn’t funny, I don’t even know how to eat.”
“So how did you send me email?”
“I used a pencil eraser, applying force laterally to the pencil so over-power wouldn’t drive the pencil through my phone.” I looked up as the waitress arrived to take our orders.
The waitress was looking down at the crowbar. “Oh,” she said, “Did one of you get superpowers?”
Jill and I both sort of cocked our heads at her.
“‘Cause it happened to my cousin one time, she just woke up one morning and started bashing the hell out of everything.”
“Do... I mean...” I took a deep breath. “I have several questions,” I said. “Is this something that happens a lot? Does anybody know why? And... what did she do?”
The waitress held up one finger. “Yes,” she said. She held up a second finger. “It’s the old Navy research facility outside of town, it spews out gamma radiation or something sometimes.” Third finger. “There’s a foundation that helps with, like, physical therapy and stuff. You’re going to have to learn how to eat again. And they’ll find you a job or whatever, that helps you, you know, make constructive...”
“So there’s not a cure or anything.”
“Huh uh.” She flipped her pony-tail back and forth when she shook her head. “That’s why the foundation, it’s part of the settlement with the Navy...”
I looked at Jill helplessly. “Did you know any of this?”
Jill sort of half-shrugged, half shook her head. She lived two towns over. “I told you not to move to the sticks,” she said. “Weird shit happens out here.”
She looked up at the waitress. “I’d like a western ommlette,” she said. “And... is there anything you can do for my friend, in terms of being able to get breakfast?”
The waitress looked at me sideways, as though I were a problem that she and Jill were working on together.
“I’ll bring the rubber fork,” she said. “And we have some soft latex coffee mugs.”
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