It was heavenly.
I chuffed again.
"You're such a dork."
With the drugs now coursing through my entire system, and Elyse scratching my ears, I slowly lowered myself to the ground. Elyse followed me down, sitting with her legs under her. I rested my head in her lap and closed my eyes. This was good. I could do this forever. With that content thought, I went to sleep.
I woke up gradually. The first sensation I became aware of was the sensation of fabric against my skin. A blanket? Yes, it was definitely a blanket. I would have thought the shocking and crazy violence of my first shift would have brought with it amnesia. You know, how some accident victims only remember driving down the road and then waking up in the hospital. No such luck for me. I remembered, in spectacular detail, every moment from first entering the basement, getting tranq'd, shot with silver bullets, clawed in the back, and finally succumbing to the drugs; the darkness taking me as my head rested in Elyse's lap.
Elyse.
I could sense her sitting close by. Not only did I recognize the scent that was uniquely Elyse, I could feel the energy of her body. I'd heard about auras even before Mrs. Kelly had mentioned them earlier. I never gave metaphysical things much thought. I was a science guy. If you couldn't test it, measure it, or quantify it in some way, I found it hard to wrap my head around it. Of course, that was before my girlfriend had turned into a giant cat in front of me. Before the shark-nurse blood mage attack. Before shrugging off enormous, body crushing pallets of chili. Before I had turned into a raging, rampaging bear.
I had shape-shifted. I had turned into a bear - a giant, claw-wielding, cage smashing, pissed off bear.
I did a quick body assessment. Currently I was sprouting only two arms and two legs. My fingers felt normal. I ran my tongue over my teeth; just normal people teeth. I felt no pain. Which didn't seem right? I had been shot, point blank. Yeah, the bullets had basically bounced off my bear hide but I would expect some kind of bruising. They were bullets fired from a Navy Seal looking rifle. Also, Mrs. Kelly had given my back the Wolverine treatment with her claws and as far as I could tell my back was intact. The soft cushions — upstairs living room couch maybe — didn't cause my skin any discomfort. Wait. I could feel the cushions against my skin. The blanket was also touching skin. I was naked.
I heard footsteps on the stairs. I could smell Mr. Kelly as he descended into the room. Soap, shampoo, clean clothes, with the slight odor of detergent, and those static cling things you put in dryers. He also had a musky undertone. A wild smell my mind immediately associated with dense jungle or rain forest. It was his animal, his second self, his cat. I knew the wild smell would not be discernible to a regular human nose. Huh, a regular human nose; until yesterday that would have included me. I realized I could also sense his tension and something else . . . was that fear?
"How's he doing?" Mr. Kelly asked.
"With three darts, he'll probably still be asleep this time tomorrow," Mrs. Kelly answered.
Her voice startled me. I'd been so caught up in my thoughts I hadn't realized she was in the room. But now I could sense she was sitting close to Elyse. Not right on top of her daughter, but close enough to grab her if I went all berserker again.
"I don't think so," said Elyse.
I felt her move, her energy pressing deeper into mine. It felt good.
"Elyse," Mr. Kelly grumbled. It wasn't a question; it was a warning.
"It's okay, Dad. Really. I can't tell you why, but I can feel it. He won't hurt us."
I felt Elyse's hand close around my blanketed foot and squeeze. "Isn't that right, dork?" I could feel her smile. How was that even possible?
I popped open my right eye. Surveying the room in front of me. I was lying on the living room couch. Elyse sat at my feet, a big beautiful smirk on her face. Mrs. Kelly sat in the matching chair directly to Elyse's left, the high-powered rifle from the basement resting in her lap. Mr. Kelly stood just outside the ring of furniture, body tense, eyes alert for any sign of wrong movement from me.
"Hi, guys. Sorry about the whole," I hooked my hands into pretend claws, "you know, bear thing," I said. "I'm kinda starving and kinda naked. Do you think maybe I can get some pants and a sandwich or something?" I smiled. It was the most non-threatening thing I could think of to say or do.
Elyse rolled her eyes. Man, I loved her.
Mr. Kelly laughed. It wasn't one of those slow rolling chortles that builds into a big laugh. It was a full on belly-buster. One moment, he was all serious and silent and then wham — laugh city.
"Orson, you are one amazing young man," he managed to get out between sobbing for air.
"Elyse, go fetch something for Orson to wear. I'll make us something to eat," Mrs. Kelly said, taking charge of the situation. She handed the rifle to Mr. Kelly as she passed him on the way to the kitchen. "And for Heaven's sake, Richard, calm yourself."
"Not a word until I get back with your stuff," Elyse commanded me.
I saluted, which sent Mr. Kelly into another fit of laughter. He flopped down into the chair his wife had vacated. He did not, however, set the rifle down. It stayed expertly cradled in his hands. I held no delusions that, despite his laughter, Mr. Kelly would not hesitate to shoot me in the head if I even looked sideways wrong. I had no idea if non-bear Orson was as bulletproof as bear Orson, and I didn't really want to find out the hard way.
Elyse came back with a pair of sweats, tossing them at me before asking her mom how she could help. Mrs. Kelly pointed at a tray of meat and cheese. "That'll help take the edge off, while I finish prepping the steaks."
My mouth watered. Steak. I hoped Mrs. Kelly had brought extra, because I was sure I could eat half a cow at this point. Elyse dropped the tray on the table in front of the couch and sat down beside me, taking my hand. I held on and used my other hand to shovel meat, cheese, and crackers into my mouth just as fast as I could chew and swallow.
I decided there was no use in putting off the inevitable. Around a mouthful of food, I said, "So, I'm a bear, how cool is that?"
"Um, you're not just a bear, dude. You're like the king of bears," said Elyse.
"Am I correct in assuming that you remember all that occurred, Orson?" Mr. Kelly asked.
I stopped chewing, swallowing what was in my mouth. I met his eyes, not in a challenging way, just a quick look so he could hopefully see my sincerity. "Yes, sir. I just want to say how sorry I am. I had no intention . . ."
Mr. Kelly held up a hand. "Orson, there is no need to apologize. Your animal took over. Even the oldest among us have lost ourselves to our animals in times of trial or when threatened by overwhelming forces."
"That's just it," I looked at Elyse. "It didn't feel like that . . . not at first, anyway."
Mrs. Kelly had stopped to listen to our exchange. Mr. Kelly looked a bit confused.
I continued, trying desperately to explain, "It was me, but not me. There was this other voice in my head."
"That's your animal, your bear. That's a normal sensation to have at first," Elyse explained.
"Okay." I knew I wasn't getting across how it had felt to me. That until Mrs. Kelly landed on my back, I hadn't felt out of control. I had been a bit pissed off that they hadn't told me the whole truth about the basement cage and what would happen if I couldn't control myself, but I was fairly certain I had been in control.
"Orson, why don't you start at the beginning? Why do you think that you started to shift at that precise moment?" Mr. Kelly prodded.
"I'm not exactly sure." I closed my eyes and tried to focus on that moment. I had felt safe. Things had totally entered weirdville, but I trusted Elyse and the Kellys. I knew they had the experience to help me. "I guess, for the first time since the forklift accident, I felt relaxed. Not stressed. I knew you guys were on top of the situation."
"You felt calm?" Elyse asked.
"Completely." It was the truth.
"That's it," Mrs. Kelly said from the kitchen. "Normally something like th
e accident or, even more so, the blood mage attack would have triggered a shift. Your life was in real danger both times, and yet you somehow avoided shifting while still accessing your power. It's quite amazing, actually. Instead, your body only gave in to the change when you knew you wouldn't be harmed." Having satisfied herself with that explanation, Mrs. Kelly went on preparing the food.
Mr. Kelly considered his wife's words, nodding in agreement. "It does make sense. And points to an amazing amount of instinctual control on your part, Orson."
"Okay, so we've established why you shifted. What else can you tell us?" Mr. Kelly asked.
"So, after you tossed me," I grimaced. "I mean, after I was placed in the cell, that's when the whole two voice thing started."
"And what exactly was your animal saying? I'm assuming he was not happy. Did he want to fight? To attack?" Mr. Kelly sounded like he already knew the answers to those particular questions. Boy was he in for a surprise.
"Not exactly," I answered.
"What do you mean not exactly?" Mr. Kelly said, leaning forward.
I let out a long breath. "It was like the voice . . ."
"Your animal," Mr. Kelly corrected.
"Right. My animal. It was like he wanted to come out and play. He saw the whole thing as very . . . amusing."
"Amusing?" Mr. Kelly's jaw clenched. I could see the muscles in his face working. He was not happy with that answer. "Your animal. That gigantic bear - a bear impervious to bullets among other deterrents - wanted to kill us, Orson."
"I'm not trying to be difficult, but I'm pretty sure that's not the case." This was not going well at all. "He seemed to think it was all sort of fun, until the end when Mrs. Kelly jumped on me."
"When Mrs. Kelly jumped . . ." Mr. Kelly was trying real hard not to yell. "You mean, when she saved our lives and then you smashed her into the bars so hard she cracked her ribs?"
"What?" I looked over at Mrs. Kelly.
Mrs. Kelly gave her husband one of those wife looks that seem to convey a thousand things at once, the kind of look that a smart husband does not ignore, and Mr. Kelly was a smart husband. She then turned her attention to me and she was all kindness and light, "It's okay, dear. I'm fine now. Super healing, remember? Would you like two steaks or three?"
Huh? Oh. "Three, please."
"Orson," said Elyse. I turned toward her. Her eyes were soft, gentle. "The way you're talking, it seems as though you think that you and your animal are separate?"
"Well, yeah. If you'd been able to hear this voice: he was arrogant and annoying and, you know, kind of a dick." I glanced toward the kitchen. "Sorry, Mrs. Kelly."
Elyse squeezed my hand to get my attention. I turned back, and she held my gaze. "Orson, your animal. It's not separate from you. It's just another aspect of you."
"Oh."
That was an idea my brain didn't want to accept. On one hand, it made sense. I was the bear, and the bear was me. On the other hand, it frightened me to my core. I was responsible for all that rage. I considered myself fairly even when it came to emotions. Sure, I could (and did) get mad if the situation I found myself in called for that kind of response. Sometimes you just had to unload on stupid people doing stupid things. There was about a six-month period where I would get in huge flame wars on social media over political opinions. Seriously. I would sometimes find myself physically shaking from the sheer idiocy of comments made about something as ridiculous as supermarkets using plastic bags. I wasted a lot of time, and the only thing I learned was that people seldom, if ever, change their minds.
So, yeah, I could get angry, but it wasn't a personality trait I considered dominant. And I'd never felt the kind of rage that had been coursing through me when the Kellys were attacking me.
Whoa, attacking?
No, it was not an attack. They had been trying to help me, while minimizing damage.
Elyse poked me in the arm. "Hey."
"Sorry. I was trying to wrap my head around what you said." I forced myself to look at Mr. and Mrs. Kelly. It was hard because of my embarrassment. No, I was beyond embarrassed. I was ashamed. "I'm sorry. The way I acted . . .you've got to know I don't feel that way." I pointed to my head. "I have nothing but the utmost respect for you both. And Elyse, I . . . the way I feel about her . . ." I dropped my head.
"Hey." Elyse scooted closer against me. "No one thinks you're bad or evil, or anything like that. Right, Mom and Dad?"
"Of course not," Mrs. Kelly agreed.
Mr. Kelly finally set the rifle aside, leaning it against the arm of the chair, clearly trying to show he also agreed with Elyse. It didn't escape me, though, that the rifle was still within reach and, with his enhanced speed, still a threat.
No!
Not a threat. A precaution, a safety measure, to not only protect his family but also protect me from doing anything I would regret.
"Orson, while it's true that we are one with our animals, it takes practice to find balance - the strength of the bear, bound by the strength of your character," Mr. Kelly said leaning forward in his chair. "Our children begin learning this from birth. It is taught, not only by the example of those around them, but also through rigorous training. And after a lifetime of conditioning, you'd be surprised how many of them still struggle with control."
Mrs. Kelly added, "I'm not sure anyone experiencing their animal for the first time, with the accompanying sensory overload would have been able to stop. What you did was amazing."
Elyse nodded her agreement.
"I don't think I was responsible for stopping myself." I bumped my shoulder against Elyse. "It was you. Your voice. Your touch." I raised her hand to my lips and gave it a quick peck. "And the drugs, of course. What's in those darts?"
"It's a cocktail of silver nitrate and heavy duty animal tranquilizers," answered Mr. Kelly.
"Think elephants," Elyse chimed in.
Mr. Kelly continued, "As you've probably guessed, shape-shifter metabolisms are quite robust. The silver nitrate slows our ability to burn the drugs off. But they had no immediate effect on you at all."
"Oh no, they totally did, but the bear . . . or I guess I should say my bear?" I looked to Elyse for clarification.
She nodded her head. "My bear is more correct than 'the bear'. Eventually, you'll get to the point where you won't even differentiate. It'll just be you."
"Hold your thought a minute" said Mrs. Kelly. "I want to get these steaks on the grill."
Mr. Kelly hopped up to help his wife. She handed him a platter mounded with what looked like ten pounds of beef. Mrs. Kelly opened the slider to the patio, and they both stepped out into the late afternoon sun.
The late afternoon? "How long was I out?" I asked Elyse.
"Fifteen minutes, tops. You laid your head, which is adorable by the way, in my lap and just kind of slumped over. The moment you went out, you shifted back." She grinned at me.
"Ah. So the truth comes out. All of this was just one giant ruse to get me naked in your lap."
"You wish, Reid."
"All you had to do was ask. I may have even done a little dance for you."
Elyse giggled and pointed to her ears and then at the open door to the patio.
"Oh, yeah right."
I let out a huge sigh, the tension in my back starting to loosen up.
"It will be okay. And I'm not just saying that. My parents are experts at this."
I nodded and pointed to the rifle Mr. Kelly had left, in a huge sign of trust, leaning against the chair. "I can tell." I shifted my weight, trying to get a little more comfortable on the couch. The sweats Elyse had given me when I woke up were feeling a little snug.
"What's up?"
"Feeling a bit constricted in these sweats."
"You will definitely need new clothes. And you will probably need to go to the Big and Tall store."
I laughed. "Right, because I'm so huge."
Elyse leaned back so she could look directly into my eyes. "Yes. You are."
Uh oh, th
at was her serious face. "Elyse?"
"Orson?" She replied matching my tone.
"You're kind of freaking me out."
She touched the side of my face, her fingers gentle and loving. "You need to drop the blanket and look at yourself in the mirror." She pointed her chin toward the big mirror over the fireplace.
Okay. With everything that had gone down so far today, I didn't even question why. I stood up, dropping the blanket from my shoulders. I turned toward the mirror and froze. It was me, but it wasn't me. Or better yet, it was the comic book version of me. I looked down my torso and back up at the mirror. I had grown another couple of inches. I was now well over six feet tall. I was also completely ripped. I mean, seriously, I could probably get work as a body double for Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. My muscles had muscles. I was pretty sure I could enter a body-building contest anywhere in the world and crush the competition.
"Holy fu―"
"Orson!" Elyse cut me off.
My eyes snapped to the patio door. Mr. and Mrs. Kelly were standing there staring at me staring at myself.
"Fudge. Holy Fudge."
Mr. Kelly chuckled. Mrs. Kelly pursed her lips.
I recovered quickly. "So, do we have, like, a really excellent excuse for Aunt Tina, because I'm pretty sure this," I spread my hands in front of my body, "can't be hidden by baggy t-shirts and sweats?"
Silence.
I pushed at my massively ripped abs. "Or will all this go back to normal? You know, is this like a Hulk thing, only slower?"
"I don't think so," said Mr. Kelly.
Mrs. Kelly sat down next to Elyse. Mr. Kelly went back to the chair he had vacated and motioned for me to have a seat. "The conversation we had earlier about physics versus magic and how our animals have more mass than our human forms . . ."
"Yeah," I said.
"Well, take Katie, Elyse, and me; we are on the larger side of the size scale. We're taller, more muscular."
"We have an athletic build," Mrs. Kelly offered.
Orson: A Paragon Society Novel Page 12