Bringer of Fire

by Jaz Primo

  Lightning flashed again, and I was shocked by what I saw. My living room looked like it had been trashed!

  The coffee table was tipped over, the reading chair had been pushed into the dining room, and the lamp from the end table lie upon the floor. Clothes, magazines, and other personal effects were chaotically strewn around the room.

  What the hell had happened?

  I felt disoriented, anxious, and thirsty all at the same time. I managed to reach down onto the floor where my Gatorade bottle had fallen. I twisted off the cap and drank the remaining contents even as I tried to grasp what had occurred.

  My mind quickly began to clear and I rolled off of the couch and staggered into the dining room to flip on the light switch. Fortunately, the chaos appeared to be contained to my living room.

  I went to the refrigerator to extract a bottle of 7Up, which I downed in a matter of seconds.

  My mind raced from feeling dazed to feeling practically energized.

  Oh, I felt amazing!

  My body felt alive; nearly electric and hypersensitive.

  On a whim, I held out my hand to the dining room table and looked at the salt shaker.

  Nothing happened, but my hand tingled slightly.

  Then I tried again, except this time I imagined the shaker coming to me. A pressure formed against my palm, as if something was already touching my skin.

  To my shock, the shaker smacked into my palm like it had been thrown at me!

  “Well I’ll be Sierra Hotel,” I muttered.

  I was stunned.

  Thunder roared outside and lighting flashed through the curtains like a pronouncement from Mount Olympus.

  Despite my vivid, strange dreams, something significant had changed in my body while I’d slept.

  Something fantastic!

  A barrier had suddenly been breached; hurdling past frustration and futility and landing firmly into a space reserved for things phenomenally unknown.

  I realized that my life was about to become even more interesting.

  Unfortunately, experience had taught me that the most dangerous aspect about eye-opening revelations wasn’t when I was mistaken, but rather when I was correct.

  Chapter 4

  I spent Sunday at home relentlessly practicing moving objects. It felt as if some invisible gateway had been partially opened the previous night, permitting me access to something formerly unassailable.

  I was like a kid with a new toy.

  By the end of the day, I’d learned that extended periods of moving even small objects like pencils, articles of clothing, and magazines generated headaches, as well as caused me to break out in a sweat.

  The largest object I managed to move was a dining room chair, though barely more than a foot or so before my head was once again pounding.

  Fortunately, it seemed that Maria had been correct about electrolytes. Colas and sports drinks kept the headaches in check and helped me to concentrate, acting almost like fuel for my abilities.

  Despite plying my body with all manner of energy drinks, I felt exhausted by the end of the day. However, I felt more alive than I had in a long time.

  That night I slept like the proverbial dead.

  By Monday morning, I could hardly concentrate on my work. There were so many wayward questions running though my brain, and I craved solid answers.

  During my mid-morning break, I called Maria on my cell phone and quickly explained the recent developments in my newfound abilities. Despite her former misgivings, she seemed greatly interested.

  “Maria, there’s something I really need to know. When you looked at my most recent brain scan, was there any comparison data?” I asked. “I’d like to know how my results compared to the scans of other patients who received the same treatments.”

  “From what I recall, overall your brain appeared to be much more active than the majority of the other patients. However, there were small regions of your bran that weren’t as brightly lit as a few of the others. I can’t be certain, but that might be due to tissue variances where your tumor was located. There’s a possibility that additional applications of the drug may improve the results in those regions, but I don’t recommend further treatments. Don’t forget what I said happened to most of the other patients.”

  “Yeah, I remember. It really doesn’t matter, I suppose, what with the explosion and everything.”

  I probably should’ve just stopped there and let things drop, but I’d made a lot of progress over the weekend.

  I almost laughed.

  Hell, it wasn’t as if I had any practical use for the abilities; not many job opportunities out there for telekinetic freaks, short of circus sideshows.

  “Logan,” Maria prompted.

  “Yeah?”

  “Never mind. Forget it.”

  “What? What were you thinking?” I asked.

  The line went silent for a moment.

  “You’re thinking about the drug, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

  She sighed.

  “Listen, the reason I wasn’t in the office on the day of the explosion was because I had gone across town to pick up a fresh delivery of the drug for the treatment center. It’s still in my refrigerator, in fact. But I’ve already told the company and they’re supposed to be by sometime this afternoon to pick it up,” she said.

  She had some of the drug in her refrigerator?

  Her revelation intrigued me.

  Maybe if I took just one more dose?

  Granted, I didn’t want to end up like those poor folks who’d succumbed to strokes over it.

  “Do you think that another treatment would significantly enhance anything?” I asked.

  Maria sighed.

  “Possibly, but there’s no way to know for certain.”

  “Unless I tried,” I said.

  “It’d have to be today, Logan. Right now, in fact. For all I know, they may already be on their way here to get the shipment.”

  My heart raced over the possibilities, or more accurately, the gamble.

  Why risk it? What’s to be gained?

  A smart man would’ve been thankful just to have the possibility for a full, cancer-free life. What were the practical benefits for me even if I were able to enhance my abilities?

  “Logan?”

  “Yeah, I hear you. I’m probably not even thinking clearly right---”

  “If you want to try just one dose, I’ll administer it to you. But you’d have to come over now.”

  I felt as if I was at a crossroads in my life; like the ultimate game show moment where I might risk losing everything. I could almost hear the game show host say, “Take what you have now, or risk it all for what’s behind curtain number two. Winner takes all.”

  I was probably being foolhardy, but I’d always heard that he who hesitates is lost.

  Yet, he who leaps without looking might also be lost.

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained?

  Crap.

  “I’ll be right over.”

  * * *

  I sat on Maria’s couch blankly staring at her television as she retrieved the medication intended for me. A voice in the back of my mind nagged at me, telling me it was idiotic to take another treatment.

  I couldn’t help feeling that maybe that voice was right. My problem was that I was too damned curious to say no.

  What could I say? Stubbornness had always been a predominant trait in me.

  “Earlier today, Utah Republican Senator Benjamin Conway spoke out regarding the recent explosion at the Wallace Building, named after multi-billionaire American investor, Nevis Wallace, long-known to be one of Conway’s key campaign contributors,” said a television reporter.

  I concentrated on the screen before me.

  “This cowardly act of terrorism will not go unpunished,” Senator Conway said. “We’re a proud nation of patriots, and we’ll never permit the evils in the world to go unchallenged, particularly when perpetrated on American soil.”r />
  I’d never cared much for Benjamin Conway; one of the Senate’s most outspoken members. Frankly, I’d always considered him to be a bit of a pompous ass. Granted, I didn’t entirely disagree with that he’d just said, but he’d always come off as overly zealous when it came to topics like terrorism.

  I recalled how Conway had made the topic of terrorism his personal centerpiece and agenda for the nation, pushing through a number of legislative bills to increase the strengths, and reach, of law enforcement.

  He’d called it his crusade, of sorts. Personally, I’ve never been a fan of paranoid tendencies when it came to my government. But then, that’s just me.

  “…regarding the demonstrations that are taking place nearly ten years following the historic Land Reclamation and Investment in America Act. Many Americans believe that it was wrong to declare imminent domain on large stretches of individually-owned farmland and grassland in key areas across America, enabling the largest corporations to construct cities that catered to their own designs,” said the news anchor.

  “While intended to create potentially millions of new jobs and spur the economic growth of the United States, the act worried many civil liberties and privacy advocates. Today, we asked Senator Conway about that. Many remember that Conway, who was a key member of the Republican supermajority in control, in conjunction with a Republican-controlled White House, had helped push through the controversial legislation nearly a decade ago,” continued the news anchor.

  I stared at the television, taking in the Senator’s beaming smile. He looked like an overly sly investment broker who’d just bilked some old lady out of her retirement savings.

  “The Land Reclamation and Investment in America Act continues to propel the United States back to being the world’s premiere economic superpower,” he said. “Millions of jobs are still being created in vital areas of construction, supply, and service industries across this great nation of ours. Throughout history, business and industry was central to America’s growth and success. And now, it’s shaping America into something even greater; something that our children’s children will continue to reap the benefits of.”

  I wasn’t sure that I agreed with the senator. However, one thing seemed certain in my mind; our nation had changed considerably during my lifetime.

  It wasn’t the era of big government; nor was it the era of small government. It was the undeniable era of corporations.

  “But Senator, what of the thousands of Americans who live in many major cities that have been abandoned by these same corporations who are relocating to the new corporate-owned cities, leaving a trail of urban blight and decay in their path?”

  The Senator’s features turned serious.

  “During every major industrial and economic period of rebirth in our nation’s history, there’ve always been winners and losers. Yet, I’m comfortable knowing that there will be more winners than losers. Besides, nothing stays the same forever. Boom towns rise and fall, but our nation has always bounced back stronger than before from the challenges placed before her.”

  Personally, I think that the jury’s still out on that. But then, that’s one of the reasons that I’d relocated to a corporate city like Nevis Corners. The other reason stemmed from being closer to Nuclegene Corporation’s cancer treatment center.

  The center that had been destroyed just days ago.

  “Are you ready, Logan?”

  I looked up to see Maria holding a telltale syringe in one hand.

  “Come on, let’s hook you up to an IV drip,” she said. “We’ll set you up on the couch so you can watch TV. But if the company arrives before we’re done, I’ll move you into the bedroom.”

  “Thanks for doing this, Maria,” I said.

  Her worried expression spoke volumes to me.

  “Sure. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Hey, you’re the PA here, not me,” I quipped.

  She rolled her eyes at me as she prepared the IV on my left arm.

  “Right now, we’re far outside of physician’s assistant territory,” she said.

  It seemed as if I’d sat on her couch for a lifetime as the mysterious clear liquid slowly filtered into my body.

  To pass the time, we chatted about Maria’s twelve-year-old daughter, Lauren, and her eight-year-old son, Todd. She confided in me about how difficult it’d been to raise two children on her own in the two years since her divorce. Apparently, her ex, Mark, lived in nearby Des Moines and only visited the kids a few times per year.

  In all the months I’d visited the treatment center, this was the first time I truly felt like I was getting to know Maria as a person rather than the PA who administered my treatment.

  It felt real and sincere; simply two people getting to know each other.

  It felt good.

  Maria recounted how she’d changed her original college major from chemical engineering to medicine about halfway through her degree program because she wanted to be more directly involved in caring for patients rather than being stuck in a laboratory.

  Then the topic changed from the uncertainty of her career with Nuclegene to the friends and co-workers she’d lost in the explosion. I got the definite impression that recent revelations regarding the true nature of Nuclegene’s cancer treatments had given her pause to doubt her employer.

  The truth was, I had my doubts, too.

  A couple of hours later, Maria removed the IV from my arm, marking it as what I intended to be my final treatment. Frankly, that prospect felt pretty good.

  “Remember, as far as I’m concerned, this never happened,” she insisted.

  “Got it. How long do you think it’ll take before we know something?” I asked, lightly massaging the small bandaged spot on my arm.

  “Hard to say for certain. Perhaps a week,” she said with a shrug. “In the meantime, call me if you have any complications or feel concerned about any side effects.”

  I nodded. “I’m already concerned about the side effects.”

  “Drink lots of fluids to build up your electrolytes,” she suggested. “That’s your body’s key fuel for your abilities. And keep practicing your skills. I recall that one of the doctor’s journal entries hypothesized that, just as with learning complex math or martial arts, concentration and repetition should strengthen the control and scope of your abilities.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do that,” I said as I turned to leave.

  “And, Logan, please be careful,” she warned. “There’s no way to determine how advanced your abilities may become, or how stable they’ll be.”

  “Careful is my middle name,” I assured her with a grin.

  “Why am I having such a hard time believing that?” she asked.

  I spied the mischievous look on her face and winked.

  That evening, I fell asleep with no difficulty whatsoever. However, I woke up around four in the morning bathed in a cold sweat. My body felt achy and hot, almost feverish, so I took a shower.

  For the first time, I compelled the soap to leap into my palm with little effort. I did the same with the bath towel hung over the shower door. Better, yet, I was able to fling the towel from my hand. It slapped against the mirror as if it had been thrown!

  After nearly an hour of playing around with either retrieving or repelling various objects around the house, my body felt weak and my mind flustered. I wandered into the kitchen to pour a large glass of Gatorade.

  Three glasses later, I felt somewhat refreshed and reenergized. Maria’s hypothesis regarding replenishing electrolytes seemed to be correct.

  I couldn’t help feeling that things like this only happened in comic books; though I scarcely felt like superhero material.

  * * *

  On Tuesday and Wednesday evenings, and in the privacy of my home, I practiced moving objects both large and small. For the first time in recent memory, I was actually excited about something, and I practiced relentlessly. Maybe it had been the results of my additional treatment on Monday even
ing, but my progress was shocking.

  By Wednesday night, I’d managed to push the dining room furniture across the room, resulting in a throbbing headache afterward. To my relief, I discovered that replenishing my body’s electrolytes with sports drinks reduced my fatigue and lessened the severity of the headaches.

  The probing of my limitations revealed a number of unexpected capabilities. While bouncing a small rubber ball against my living room wall one evening, I spontaneously generated an invisible “shield” that kept me from injuring an eye from a wayward bounce.

  With practice, I gained a nuanced proficiency in shifting small objects or substances around. Granted, I was using hand gestures as the focal point for my actions like some stage magician, but I did manage to swirl a stack of magazines, newspapers, and a layer of furniture dust into midair, as well as relocate a cloud of steam across the bathroom that I had generated from my hot shower.

  Hell, I was playing around just like a kid on summer vacation; but to be honest, it was the most fun that I’d had in a long time.

  Chapter 5

  By Thursday, I felt confident that I could push somebody over with my newly-refined skills. Still, nothing beat actual physical exercise; the feeling of endorphins surging through my body was invigorating.

  Some people were runners, but I preferred jogging immediately following a workday, typically during early evenings. I’d given up that oh-dark-thirty morning workout crap when I left the army. Nowadays, I alternated days between jogging and weight lift training.

  Whether jogging or lifting weights, both were great for working off the day’s stress. I’d converted one of the spare bedrooms into a weight room, but I did my jogging in the elaborate park located in the heart of our model corporate city.

  I had to admit, Nevis Corners was a nice city, despite having been co-sponsored by a consortium of some of the largest profit-hungry corporations. Frankly, a number of the nation’s shrewdest corporations seemed to be at the center of all the major political and financial corruptions of the past few decades. Still, the politicians catered to them as if they were family.

  Hell, I still remembered a few years back when one boastful ultra-conservative senator even tried to sell the idea that corporations were just like people.