Modified Box Set

by Kat Stiles

  “I can get it. What does it look like?”

  I described the late model Pisces down to its reddish-brown paint color as I hunted for the keys, which of course were in the purse I’d thrown. There weren’t many cars still around from the 20s, so I knew she wouldn’t have trouble finding it.

  She poofed out and I passed out, though it wasn’t my intention. I suppose after that shitstorm, I was just worn out. I awoke to the feeling of Vi’s fingers in my hair.

  “Feeling better?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I am. Guess I needed the nap.”

  “Glad to hear it. Your car is back.” She placed my keys back in my purse. “By the way, your power is fucking awesome, my dear.”

  I looked at her as if she had three tits. “Awesome? How do you figure?”

  “Well, it’s like you can kill people by just thinking about it. Probably the most awesome power ever.”

  I considered her words and realized she was right. Awesome, meaning unbelievable, outrageously powerful. Not like awesome cool. I didn’t understand it, which scared the shit out of me. This wasn’t a good ability to have without control. What do I do? Replaying the scene in my mind, I came to the conclusion that at the very least, I needed to choose my thoughts carefully, and keep my emotions in check in the future.

  I jumped at the sound of a knock on my front door. Paranoia wasn’t usually my thing, but having just killed a man…

  “Are you expecting anyone?” Vi asked.

  “No, I…”

  “I’ll get it.”

  I followed her to the door, wondering who it could possibly be. God, is it the police already?

  Chapter 2

  Vi peered out the peephole. “Oh, it’s just your friend.”

  “My friend?” I opened the door to find Jay standing there, holding takeout Chinese.

  “I saw you were working late, and…” he began, but then stopped. “Kate, are you all right? What happened?”

  I half-smiled, wondering just how horrific my face looked. The gash was sore, but it finally stopped bleeding. I knew it would look worse in the morning, once the bruising set in.

  I didn’t realize I was hungry until the delicious aroma of Kung Pao hit me. I invited him in and introduced him to Viola.

  When Vi looked away, I noticed him mouthing the words, “Anime girl?”

  I nodded, smiling. He winced, still observing my wounds.

  “Does it really look that bad?” I fished out a compact mirror from my purse and saw for myself. My left eye was already starting to swell from the punch, while my right cheek was busted open from the backhand. I did look like a fucking mess.

  Jay tentatively reached for my injured cheek, and I felt an enormous amount of heat, like it radiated from his hand. He only touched his fingertips lightly against it for a moment, but even after his hand left my face, the warmth continued.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, as he withdrew completely. “It looks like it really hurts. Are you okay?”

  Vi looked down, as she twirled her multi-colored hair around her finger. “Kate, do you uh, want me to split?”

  “I…I brought enough food for everyone,” Jay said. “I didn’t know what she was in the mood for.” He blushed, and I could tell he was more than a little uneasy with two women.

  “But, I didn’t realize you had company,” he continued, as he adjusted his tinted glasses farther up along his nose. “If you want, I’ll just leave the food here, and I’ll—”

  “Don’t be silly!” Vi took hold of his arm and led him to my tiny dining room table. She turned back to me and winked.

  I waited until after we ate to retell the gruesome story once more, but with a few less details, omitting the part where I killed Chad. Jay had this pained look on his face the whole time I spoke, so I didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable.

  “I can’t believe he did that. I mean, I knew he was a creep, but to try to…” He trailed off, looking totally disgusted. “He’s really going to hear it from me tomorrow,” he muttered.

  Viola stifled a laugh. “I wouldn’t worry about Chad anymore,” she sang softly.

  I stomped her foot under the table, but she just smirked at me.

  “What?” Jay asked, confused.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Vi is just being a tart.”

  She stuck her tongue out at me. “Fine, then. I’m not going to just sit here and be insulted.” She headed for the door. “Thanks for the food… Jay, is it?”

  “You, uh, you don’t have to leave, do you?” he asked her.

  She turned back and her ponytails bounced into place, settling in a breathtaking cascade of strawberry blond, purple, and blue against her shirt. I wondered what it must be like to be so effortlessly beautiful. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

  Her smile only unnerved him more, and his cheeks became flushed again.

  “I’ll check back on you later, Kate,” she said. “Nice meeting you, Jay.”

  “You too,” he said, looking down.

  And then she left us alone with each other. I thought he didn’t want her to go because he had some kind of crush on her. To say Vi is a natural flirt is somewhat of an understatement – she enjoyed toying with men, pushing their buttons. But it soon became clear from his fidgeting that he was uncomfortable being alone with me. He tried to covertly hide his hands under the table, but I noticed him wiping his palms on his pants.

  “Is, uh, everything okay?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

  “It’s fine, everything’s fine,” he said, his voice nearly cracking. “I just…. I…” He bit his lip, and then it happened. It was as if I were opening my eyes to see for the first time, as natural as breathing the air around me. At first I didn’t understand the picture that appeared in my head. Then I realized what I was seeing. His thoughts. Just like I did with Chad in the hospital.

  In his mind, he pictured us sitting together on my couch. He faced me, and his hand touched my wounded eye. It surprised me, to see something so innocent, so innocuous. I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Do you want to go to the living room? Maybe there’s something on TV,” I said.

  He nodded.

  Once we settled on the couch and I turned on the television, I heard him take a deep breath and then exhale. It felt like an eternity before he finally spoke.

  “Look, I hope this doesn’t sound weird or creepy, but would it be all right if I cleaned out your wound?” he asked, motioning to the gash under my eye. “I have some first aid training.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, feeling embarrassed by my condition, and not wanting to be any trouble. But the picture I saw in his mind before returned, only this time his other hand was on my injured cheek.

  “Please let me do this for you,” he said softly. He was so deliberate and sincere, I had no choice but to comply. I nodded and led the way to my bathroom.

  It took me a second to locate my meager first aid supplies from underneath the sink. I removed my glasses to make it easier to clean the gash out. His eyes caught mine and he gasped.

  “Your eyes…” he whispered.

  “No, it’s okay,” I said, looking away. “It’s not...because of the… It’s…” Nothing even remotely plausible leapt to mind.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a jerk about it. I have astigmatism too,” he said nervously.

  “Yeah, it’s uh, kind of a new thing for me,” I said, relieved. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it didn’t make sense, I knew astigmatism didn’t make your eyes all cloudy. But at the same time, I wasn’t about to argue and have to explain my condition.

  He carefully placed a band-aid on my wounded cheek, but left his hand there afterwards. Though it barely touched my skin, the heat that seemed to be generating from his hand was amazing. He exhaled. In his mind, I saw the most beautiful shade of reddish purple swirling around in a spiral pattern. I felt this weird tingle in my skin, and the heat somehow increased in intensity. Then it started to pulsate. The sensat
ion didn’t hurt, but it kinda freaked me out. I pulled away from him.

  “What the fuck?” I put my hand over the wound, which was hot and a little moist. What was he doing?

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just…” He looked away, fidgeting. It was clear he was struggling for words. I wanted to know what was going through his head, but I was understandably reluctant to actually try to use my power. Friends are just too hard to come by. The only thing that came through was a frenzied recollection of first aid scenarios, images from books he’d read, no doubt.

  “I was putting some light, uh, pressure on the wound,” he said, still not meeting my eyes. “I-I read somewhere that—”

  He’s an even shittier liar than I am, I thought. Sufficiently creeped out, I said, “I think you should leave.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and moved past me. I felt a pang of guilt, but my wound was still pulsating.

  “I really hope you feel better, Kate,” he said, on his way out of my apartment.

  I sighed in relief. Though I appreciated his company, I just wanted to be left alone. I wondered if there was anything on the internet about my “condition.” I grabbed my laptop and searched for abilities and super powers, but most of the hits were about comic books or crappy superhero movies. I found one news article on the archives, a consolidated database of older national news. It was something from around the turn of the century, in a small Texas town called Cannondale. Apparently a slew of teenagers and some adults were affected with various abilities, but the article wasn’t definitive on how they obtained the powers. There was a note that it was contained, whatever the hell that meant. I closed my laptop and sprawled out on my couch. Nothing on TV, so I just left it on a reality show. A solid fifty years after they first surfaced, reality shows still existed, and they were more popular than ever. Although the topic of people addicted to feeding ducks was totally riveting, in a matter of minutes I drifted off to sleep.

  The nightmare I had was only slightly less bizarre than my life had been over the past couple of days. I couldn’t remember all of it, only a gargantuan snake, a failed attempt at seduction, and a penguin named Herbert, drinking tea.

  The sound of an incoming text message beeped from my cell. I stretched and yawned, shaking off the last bits of sleep. It was late, 11 o’clock. Pickle didn’t move from his spot on the couch when I got up, only took a moment to give me the stink eye for disturbing his favorite sleeping position of a catball behind my knees.

  The text was from Vi, she wanted to make sure I was all right being alone tonight. I texted her back that I was fine and I would see her tomorrow. Though I was feeling lonely, it wasn’t female companionship I desired. After the nightmare, the lack of sex ache within me had only intensified. I was tempted to hit up a bar, see if I could find any desirable men. The thought of what kind of guys would be hanging out at a bar on a weeknight made me chuckle. What the hell, I thought. I could try my power out (carefully) on a stranger. If nothing else, it should be interesting.

  Interesting was not the word. Hopeless was more like it. I hit up three bars: the first two had either idiot twenty-somethings trying to get smashed or fifty-somethings escaping their wives. The third bar had a couple of prospects, but I learned quickly that with the power to read minds came a depressing reality – the unadulterated truth. One dude that I thought was into me was actually thinking, “Man what happened to her? Is she into that kinda stuff?” All the while he smiled casually at me. The other guy was thinking about his ex and comparing my ass to hers. And then he went through the rest of my features, one by one, detailing everything that was less than perfect. I felt so judged and inadequate. Is this what happens every time I date? I shuddered and left him mid-sentence, not even bothering to say goodbye. How could I even think about sex with thoughts like that running through his head? Talk about a mood killer…

  I returned home, annoyed and depressed at the same time, but happy I was able to use my power without killing anyone. In the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The reflection resembled my general feeling - even the waves in my hair didn’t bother trying anymore. The wound on my cheek seemed to be doing a lot better. I tentatively touched it, wondering how much it had swollen. It was hardly tender, let alone puffy. I gently peeled the band-aid off. The gash was gone, with only a small scar remaining. I stumbled back in disbelief, bumping the toilet and nearly falling into it.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I wondered aloud. Is it possible… Do I have Wolverine regenerative powers too?

  Chapter 3

  I sighed in defeat at the ever-growing weirdness of my life. The horny-haven’t-had-sex-in-too-damn-long ache was still present, so I resigned myself to the bedroom. A few more months of self-service and the porn shop’s going to have to give me a frequent shopper card.

  I had just switched my vibrator on when I heard a thud in the living room. Pickle’s ears perked at the foot of the bed. Seeing the cat eliminated any hope that nothing was wrong. He looked at me as if to say, “Go check it out.”

  My heart pounded in my throat. Was it Steve, trying to take me again? My cheeks involuntarily flushed at the thought and choice of words. I should be so lucky, I thought. Had a better chance of Chad’s ghost coming back to finish the job he started. I grabbed the only weapon available to me, a backscratcher on my nightstand, and tiptoed to the doorway.

  “Kate, you asleep?” The sound of Vi’s voice was music to my ears. Of all the weird shit in my life, she was the least threatening.

  I dropped the backscratcher to the floor. “You scared the shit out of me! What the hell are you doing here? I said I was fine…”

  “Sorry, just thought with Steve on the loose, I should probably stay…” she trailed off. “What’s that buzzing noise?”

  My vibrator was happily pulsating against my sheets. I hastily switched it off, then shoved it under my sheets. But not before Vi noticed.

  She grinned a kind of Cheshire Cat grin.

  “Look I’ve had a rough day. Coming always helps me relax,” I explained.

  “Can’t argue with that,” she said and laughed. “Need any help?” The smile on her face was sweet and a little mischievous. I didn’t know what to think of it.

  “You can sleep on the couch, if you insist on staying here.”

  A little girl kind of frown appeared. “Your bed looks really comfortable.”

  “I’m the one who’s injured, and I’m not about to give up my bed. Even if you are my guest.” I felt a little like a shit, but after everything I’d been through, I thought it was excusable.

  “You misunderstand. I meant for both of us.”

  The picture that appeared in her mind started innocent enough, with the two of us just sleeping in bed. Then it took a weird turn, when she imagined spooning with me. Before it got any stranger, I said, “I’m sorry, I’m not that comfortable with you.”

  She let out a disappointed sigh, so I added, “Yet.”

  She nodded. “I understand. You need some time to get to know me.”

  “Exactly.” I grabbed a blanket and pillow from the closet. “I have a spare toothbrush in one of the drawers in the bathroom. If you need anything else, just holler.”

  “But not for 10 minutes or so? Never takes me longer than that.” Her grin was downright devilish.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen now.” I rubbed my eyes. “I’m just going to pass out.”

  “Is it because I’m here? I can pop out for a while if you want.”

  “No, it’s just… It’s been a crazy day. I’m tired, I really am.” It wasn’t a lie, though the thought of someone sleeping just a few feet away did put a damper on the horns.

  “You want a backrub? That might help you relax,” she said, and positioned herself behind me, demonstrating. Her strong hands massaged my shoulders, and although it felt amazing, I didn’t want to trouble her.

  I turned to face her. “Thank you, I appreciate it. But I’m fine.”

  She shrugged. �
��You know where I am if you change your mind.” She gave Pickles a quick stroke and left the bedroom.

  It was unusual for me to have anyone stay over, but I had to admit, I felt safer knowing Vi was just outside my bedroom. She was quirky, yes. Maybe even a little mentally unstable. But she was the first person to actually talk to me about my powers and everything that happened. Though I wasn’t sure about her stance on Steve, I did trust her. Plus with her power, she made the perfect bodyguard.

  The night was blissfully uneventful, a fact I was only made aware of when Pickles decided to paw at my nose until I woke up, the following morning. His timing was uncanny, it’s like he knew the alarm was about to go off. I rubbed the crusty stuff out of the corners of my eyes and checked on Vi. She was fast asleep on my coach, curled up with a pink teddy bear.

  I took a quick shower and had just finished dressing for work when I heard a gentle knock. On my way to the front door, I twirled the length of my hair into a bun, and not having any hairpins on hand, I grabbed a couple of pens off a table nearby and secured it with those. I looked through the peephole and saw a very conflicted Jay. He turned to leave. I opened the door and called out to him.

  “Hi,” he said, looking down at the floor. “I know it’s strange to be stopping by in the morning, but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Come in,” I said.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean,” he started, but then just accepted my invitation and entered.

  “Look, I’m sorry if I was bitch the other night,” I began, but he stopped me, shaking his head.

  “No, I was the one being weird. I shouldn’t have…” he appeared to be looking for the right word, but never found it. “I was trying to help when you didn’t ask for it.”

  He finally had the courage to look up at me. “Looks a lot better today.”

  “It is, I really appreciate your help with it.” I smiled genuinely at him. It appeared to lift his mood. I invited him to sit at the dining room table and got him a cup of coffee.