by C. S. Won
“Like what?” Gabe asked.
“It started out innocently enough. In the beginning, I was breaking small appliances like TV remotes and sink faucets, tearing them apart without meaning to. I thought nothing of it because I figured it was just that, nothing. I simply chalked it up to the quirkiness of life. But when I was rescuing that little girl in the fire the other day, my strength just exploded, and I was doing things no man in my position should have been able to do: destroying doors, plowing through several feet of debris, and jumping wide gaps.”
“Could it have been the adrenaline aiding you?” Madeline asked.
“This wasn’t adrenaline, trust me.”
“That would explain all that ruin you left behind when I went back up to check things out,” Gabe said.
“But even then,” Jae continued. “I could hardly believe what I was even doing. It didn’t seem real. I kept asking myself, ‘am I really doing this?’ Even with all the evidence before me, it all seemed like a lie.”
“Is that why you’re out here, breaking tree branches and bending crowbars?” Madeline asked. “You wanted to see if your strength was the real deal?”
“Yes, and as you can see . . .” Jae waved a hand, displaying his work.
“But how? What made you so strong suddenly?”
Jae let the crowbar slip to the ground, iron thumping against the dirt of the earth. “I have to credit Gabe for this because it’s technically his theory, but I think the lightning storm six months ago had something to do with it.”
Gabe clapped his hands. “Ha! It’s a good theory, right?”
“How do you figure?” Madeline asked.
“It’s the only thing that I can point to that would act as the catalyst for this whole thing. I get struck, I fall into a six-month coma, and when I wake up, I’m suddenly exhibiting increased strength. I can’t think of anything else that could have caused it,” Jae said.
Madeline crossed her arms, looking doubtful. “I don’t buy it. A person getting struck by lightning isn’t new. It’s happened before, and there’s no record of anyone exhibiting increased strength because of it.”
“There’s never been a global thunderstorm before either, and we just had one.”
“Not to mention the fact that hundreds of thousands of people were simultaneously struck and fell into a coma, also. When has that ever happened?” Gabe asked.
“Then why now? What changed? And what about Adam? He was struck too, and as far as we know he hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary,” Madeline said.
“Except heat up a room,” Gabe said.
“Which is strange, I’ll give you that, but as you pointed out: there were hundreds of thousands who were also struck, and we’ve heard nothing peculiar about them. If the lightning storm had something to do with it, then wouldn’t everyone be exhibiting increased strength? Don’t you think we’d have heard something about by right now?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m the only one, or maybe it manifests differently for others—some see a change right away, while for others it may take some time. It’s only a theory, so I don’t know for sure, but the fact that I’m here crunching crowbars into balls lends credence to that theory, does it not?” Jae asked.
“But that still doesn’t explain how lightning turned you into Superman. It’s not supposed to do that. If anything, you should be dead—you and everyone else who was struck.”
“And therein lies the rub. We’re not dead; we’re very much alive. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Jae pointed a finger past them. “Let’s go out to the driveway. There’s something I want to try.”
The wind had picked up noticeable speed, along with a colder touch, by the time they made their way to Gabe’s driveway. Winter was finally making its move on the day after a prolonged absence, creeping in near the edges of the horizon, bringing with it a familiar frigidity. The sun was still prominent enough to temper the falling temperatures, but Jae knew it was only a matter of time before the warmth they enjoyed would become a distant memory.
They stopped next to Gabe’s car, parked near the center of the driveway. Jae knelt on one knee next to it and gripped the underside with both hands, pressing his face against the car’s chipped exterior.
“What are you doing?” Gabe asked.
“Stand back. Give me room,” Jae said.
Gabe and Madeline exchanged glances and did as they were told. When they were both an acceptable distance away, Jae lifted one side of the car off the ground, metal groaning with the shifting weight. There were gasps behind him, and when he worked to tilt the car on just two tires, additional declarations of surprise were uttered. Jae moved in closer, shoving his arms farther underneath, and lifted the rest of the car off the ground. He widened his stance to achieve better balance. Once he was locked in, he turned to look at his friends, mustering just enough of a smile through the strain he was under.
“No fucking way,” Gabe said. Madeline said nothing.
Lifting the car proved no easy feat, a far more difficult task than breaking tree branches and bending crowbars, but he had done it. He felt that he could do even more, as crazy as it seemed. Considering the weight of the car, he thought of the possibilities. Why not push it overhead? Why not, indeed. It seemed plausible enough. He sat back on his heels, lowering himself into a squat, and took in a few deep drags of cool air. After a brief moment, he barked out his readiness and launched himself into a standing position, heaving the car over his head.
He almost failed, nearly falling backward during the lift. It took everything he had to stay on point, arms shaking as he tried to manage the weight, legs dancing a small jig as he tried to negotiate his balance, the first excretion of sweat forming in the creases of his brow. The car’s wide shadow blackened his world, providing shade he didn’t need. Metal creaked as the car swayed back and forth in his grip. He knew that he was almost there, and that all he needed to do was to stick the landing. So, he stamped his feet on the ground, solidifying his position, and exerted more pressure to keep the car from swaying, clutching the car’s underside with a tighter grip. It wasn’t until a few moments later that he noticed the greater degree of control he had, taming the weight that loomed over him. His posture proved impeccable, his balance centered to provide the best support possible, and his hands were like clamps, firm and unyielding.
He looked at Gabe and Madeline, gauging their reaction. “What do you think?” He asked.
It appeared their ability to speak was stolen from them. For a long while, they said nothing and did nothing, merely gawking at the spectacle before them. Not a surprising reaction, Jae supposed, as it was not every day you see a man lift a car over his head.
“The coma made you this strong? The lightning strike did this for you?” Gabe asked. “I would have danced naked in that storm if it meant I could have that kind of strength.”
“How heavy is that for you?” Madeline asked.
“Heavy enough,” Jae said. He lowered the car back to the ground slowly, suspension creaking when the tires touched the pavement. “But not to the point where it was stressing me. It only became marginally difficult when I tried to press it over my head.”
Gabe scoffed. “Marginally, he says. How much do you think you can actually lift?”
“I’m not sure.”
Gabe thumbed over his shoulder. “Do you think you can lift that big oak tree in my backyard?”
Jae snorted. He didn’t think it likely. With its deep roots, wide girth, and powerful physique, a tree of that stature would prove to be a far more difficult task than hefting a car. If the tree was old and rotted then maybe he could, but the oak in Gabe’s yard was a healthy one, sturdy with no sign of decay. “I doubt it.”
“Why not?” Gabe asked. “Before today, did you think you’d ever be able to lift a car?”
Jae was about to brush the topic away but paused. Gabe had a point. Never in his life did he think he’d be lifting cars or bending crowbars, and yet here he was doing jus
t that, like it was a thing ordained. And while the car proved to be a challenge, once he got his feet beneath him, the task proved to be far more reasonable than he could have realized. So why not a tree, then? If he was only beginning to scratch the surface of what he was capable of, then it would be nice to know what his limits were.
“What the hell,” Jae said, shrugging. “Let’s give it a shot.”
“Jae . . . do you think that’s a good idea?” Madeline asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you to tax yourself. You’re still only a few weeks removed from the hospital. Something could still happen.”
“If I can’t do it, then I’ll stop. I’m not going to pop an artery just so I can prove I can lift a tree. I’ll be fine.”
They made their way back to Gabe’s backyard, the wind blowing even colder in their faces, and stopped a few feet away from the tree, staring up at its greatness. It towered over them like a megalith—a large black shape stamped against the grey skies, casting a shadow too long to quantify, its many arms splayed out in every direction. It had been there for as long as Jae could remember, its age written in the countless grooves ingrained on its bark, but the years did nothing to sully its strength. Jae ran his fingers against it. Even with a slight touch, he could feel the power resonating within the tree, and he knew right away that this would not be an easy task.
Jae took a step back and stretched out his muscles, ligaments, tendons, joints. With the incoming cold dulling him, he needed to make sure he was nice and warmed up before he began his lift.
“How much do you want to bet that he won’t be able to lift it?” Gabe asked Madeline. She said nothing, only looking worried.
Jae wrapped his arms around the tree and spread his legs out to a wide, sumo-like stance. He pressed close to the tree, and with every fiber in his body squirming and his fingers digging deep into the bark, he made his first attempt.
Nothing happened. The tree groaned but held firm. His body shook with immense strain, but no matter how hard he pulled, the tree stood inert. He backed away and placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath, using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. He uttered an obscenity, disappointment swelling in his chest.
“Don’t let it get you down,” Gabe said, patting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It was a good try. At least you lifted a car. I wish I could do that.”
Madeline rubbed his back for him. “What’s obvious now is that you are definitely strong. We just need to figure out how and why.”
Jae hung his head, staring at the brown grass beneath him. He didn’t care that he could lift a car, not anymore. The achievement seemed trivial when compared to a potential lifting of a tree. It was his new measuring stick, the Mt. Everest that he wanted to conquer, and he was determined to surmount that summit.
“No, I can do this.” Jae straightened out and took his shirt off, dropping it on the ground.
“Why? What’s the point? You lifted a car already; what more do you need to do to know that your strength is for real?” Madeline asked.
The coffee she had brought him earlier was still in the same place, next to all the branches he had broken. He picked it up and took a sip of it, the liquid cold against his lips. It wasn’t much, but a jolt of caffeine could help. “I just don’t like leaving something unfinished. It’s not in me to leave a job halfway done.” Jae placed the coffee back on the ground.
“You promised that if you couldn’t lift it, you’d stop,” Madeline said.
“You’re right, I did promise that. But who said I couldn’t lift it?”
“Jae . . .”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” He went back to the tree, spread his legs out wide, and wrapped his arms around the trunk. He clenched his teeth, so hard that he was afraid he might shatter them. His nostrils flared as he took in the cold air through his nose. Jae let out a loud cry and began his second attempt.
The tree groaned, but it stayed firm, refusing to budge. Jae blurted out a series of expletives and demanded to know why the tree had grown so big and strong, as if chiding it would somehow make it capitulate to his demands. His arms and legs burned with immense pressure, and his fingers were pressed in so tight they pierced the bark, which splintered underneath his grip. But everything he did to shift it, even an inch, would not work. The tree refused to comply. With his strength waning, he began to realize, with bubbling frustration, that maybe he wasn’t as strong as he hoped to be. He had given it everything he had and still couldn’t make any progress. Lifting the car had given him the delusion that maybe he was capable of more, but reality forced him to concede that lifting the tree was nothing more than a fantasy. He felt weak all over again, which was a funny thing for him to feel considering what he had just accomplished, but he felt it nonetheless. Disappointment clouded his judgment. He would have to forfeit his efforts. Perhaps down the road, with some training and persistence, he could work his way up to this ancient oak giant, but for now it seemed pointless to continue.
And then the earth moved.
The shift wasn’t great, but he felt a tremble beneath his feet. Gabe and Madeline must have felt it too because they cried out in shock. The few dead leaves remaining on the branches above began to wiggle loose and fall, collecting into a scattered arrangement around the base of the tree. There was another groan, louder this time, the tree bellowing like a great, wounded beast.
“Keep going! You’re doing it!” Gabe said.
Whatever remained of his reservoir strength, he poured into the task. Little by little, inch by inch, and measure by measure, the tree began to move, the roots squirming beneath his feet. He let out a shout, and the tree roared with him, as if the two were singing a duet. The ground sunk in around him as the tree tore free from its base, thick, black branches swaying wildly against the darkened skies. Blinking through the sweat running over his eyes, Jae saw exposed roots, a network of webbed stems crusted with soil, twisted and gnarled in complex patterns. Parts of it still had an affinity for the dirt, stubborn roots weaved into the ground that refused to sever their ties, but much of it had been ripped and exposed to the outside world. A murder of crows, agitated by the disturbance, rose up in the distance and took flight southward in a croaking, black mass.
“No way,” Madeline said.
Jae was inclined to agree. None of this seemed quite real, despite the great weight that pressed against him telling him otherwise. It felt like a dream, the most surreal one he’d ever had. He lowered the tree back into its place, albeit at a crooked angle, and took a step back, waiting for the dream to end. But it never did. He took a seat on the grass and waited for the lie to be exposed, even pinching himself to see if this reality would fade, but it persisted, with the dark skies over his head and the cold wind biting his face.
This was no lie. His strength gain, whether it came from the storm or from something else, was real. He was the physical manifestation of a childhood fantasy—to be superhuman, to be more than just “regular,” to do the impossible as if it were second nature. But how? And why him? What did he do to deserve this strength?
“That was fucking amazing,” Gabe said.
Madeline knelt next to Jae, rubbing her hands up and down his back. “Are you hurt?”
“Just all over,” Jae said, mustering up a tired smile. “Give me a moment to catch my breath and I should be good.”
“How were you able to—”
“I don’t know. I just did.” He looked at his arms. They were about the same size as they were a few weeks ago. He didn’t look like some sort of gargantuan mass of bulging, muscular flesh; he was still him, with the same physical attributes and stature. “I just did.”
“You fucking lifted a tree. You’re a real life Superman,” Gabe said.
Not quite. Superman wouldn’t have struggled so much. Maybe once Jae could lift a mountain he’d start entertaining comparisons.
Madeline scrubbed away a few stray tears on her cheeks.
&
nbsp; “What’s wrong?” Jae asked.
She dabbed at her tears. “I don’t know. I’m just . . . it looked like you were about to get hurt there for a second. I saw the tree tilting a bit, and I thought it was going to fall and crush you.”
“Sorry for scaring you.” He helped her wipe her tears.
“You have a really bad habit of scaring me, you know that?”
Jae smiled. “Here, maybe this’ll help.” He put his hand into his pocket and took it out, close-fisted, raising it towards her. “This is for you.” She pulled away, looking confused. He opened his hand and revealed a small diamond gemstone shimmering on a silver band, sparkling like the sun after a rainy day.
“Jae?” Her voice cracked.
He sat up and scooted closer to her, taking her hand. With a gentle touch, he slipped the ring over her finger. A perfect fit. Choking back tears, she brought her hand back and looked at the ring, the scant winter light bouncing off the magnificent stone.
Gabe sat next to Jae, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, buddy.”
Jae beamed, chest swelling with nervous energy. He inched closer to Madeline and crooked his hand beneath her chin, guiding her until their eyes met. She wiped away the last remaining tears with the sleeve of her sweater and gave him a smile, laughter hiccupping from her lips. He kissed her.
“So, you did remember?” She asked.
“Kind of.” Gabe had told him what he was doing at the park with Madeline, which made sense because he did remember planning for a proposal prior to the storm, so the first thing he did afterward was to run out and buy a new engagement ring. “I’m too tired to think of something memorable to say, so I won’t be able to commemorate this occasion with any meaningful words. But because you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, I figured it’d be okay if we dispense with the pleasantries and get right down to brass tacks. So, Madeline Ewing . . . will you marry me?”
“Odd time and place for a proposal, don’t you think? Considering what just happened?” She asked.