Abilities

Michael excused himself from the class with five minutes remaining before the end of the period. Just before he left, he looked through the class roster and put a face to Jamie. He waited in the hall counting the seconds until the bell would ring. He looked at his watch; he looked at the clock hanging from the hallway ceiling. He stood outside the classroom door like a security guard keeping the students inside and everyone else outside. He walked by the door window peeking in each time. Finally, the bell rang.

It was like a zookeeper unlocked all the animals’ cages. The ring of the bell lasted no more than five seconds, and the kids were charging out of their rooms before that the last bell sounded. Michael stood guard at the door and felt his blood suddenly start rushing through his body and he couldn’t see the carpet anymore because there were so many students. He waved to each kid that passed as only a friendly teacher could. Finally, Jamie came walking out of the room. She was one of the shorter girls in the seventh grade. She wore her hair in a ponytail and carried a one-strap bag over her shoulder.

“Jamie, Hey,” Michael rushed over to her side before she got lost in the crowd. “Can I ask you something?”

Jamie nodded. As Michael approached her, she seemed to tense up. She was one of the best students the year before. She was getting straight A’s, never talked out in class, and had never gotten a detention before. So, when Michael kneeled down in front of her on the very first day of the new year, her eyes doubled in size.

“First of all, you did great on your test,” Michael started off. He held up the test and showed her the results and then continued, “see? You got them all right. Even the challenge words. But I wanted to ask you something.”

Jamie reached out to take the test from him. Her smile got bigger as her thumb pressed the paper into her hand, but Michael pulled the test back and the smile left her face. Michael flipped the test over and looked at the picture. He stared at it and tried to put his thoughts together. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t know how to get his thoughts across to her without sounding crazy or even worse without scaring her. He didn’t want to be the new teacher that scared a little girl his first day on the job.

“Jamie, why did you draw this picture?” Michael tried to hold back his emotion. Jamie looked at it and didn’t know how to answer that. She felt if she answered one way, she was sure to get into trouble, but another answer could put her on the front page of the school newspaper. She just looked at Michael. She pressed her lips together.

“I miss my dog,” she finally spewed out.

“What? Jamie, I need to know about this picture,” Michael tapped his finger to the sheet of paper and glanced at the drawing. Then he stopped mid-sentence. It was gone. The people, the houses, the chaos was all gone. It was a dog. On the back of this perfect test was a drawing of a dog. A bad drawing of a dog, but a dog nonetheless.

“Mr. Vernor, I need to go to my next class,” Jamie had started walking away before she finished her sentence.

Michael remained kneeling. His eyes couldn’t look away from the dog. Was I imagining things? This dream that had taken over an entire night of his life because it seemed so real, then made an appearance in his conscious, real world existence, but it wasn’t there anymore. Was it ever drawn on that paper?

“How’d your first class go?” he immediately recognized the voice of his sweet girlfriend. Michael stood up and turned around. Brittany stood there with a smile on her face, which could only mean that her first period as a student teacher went better than his. The expression on his face sucked the excitement from Brittany.

They had agreed that it was best not to show any public displays of affection, at least in the first couple of weeks, because they wanted to remain professional and be taken seriously by the rest of the staff. But Michael either forgot that rule or decided to ignore it all together. He needed to believe that something was real so he threw his arms around Brittany and squeezed her tightly into his chest. At first, she was concerned about breaking their rule, but she could tell Michael needed this. She embraced him just as snug.

After their hug, he pulled back and put the paper in her hand and walked away without saying a word. She looked at the picture of the dog and chuckled.

“This is cute,” she said.

CHAPTER 17

As the week rolled by, Michael tried to concentrate in his classroom. He wanted to learn and study how Mr. Kruger handled every situation from the feeling of accomplishment when he got through to the children on a challenging topic to the frustration after a few rowdy boys were mouthing off in the middle of class. But it was a struggle. It was a struggle all week.

Whenever there was a moment when he would be able to forget the dream and the drawing, he would see something out of the corner of his eye. His mind was playing tricks all week seeing things that weren’t really there. Things that didn’t exist.

Finally, the week was over and as glad as Michael was to be teaching inside such a fantastic school, he had never hated teaching until the past week. It was a combination of everything that had been going on; not only because the drawing and dream on his mind non-stop, but also because he had to sit and do simple busy work instead of being able to stand up in front of the class and teach. Sitting around all day watching and learning only gave him more time to think about the crazy things that had happened.

“Are you Ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Michael answered.

Brothers was starting to fill up. It was one of the five bars in the small downtown area of Michael’s town, Broadripple. It was quarter to eleven an hour before midnight and all the college kids were showing up.

Michael sat at a corner booth with his best friend, Jeremy Ryans, J.R. for short, who wasn’t a college student and had never given that next level of education a chance. He barely graduated high school and once he was out, he spent his days working part-time, dead end jobs. He worked at a landscaping company during the summer after graduation and spent a couple weeks as a Jimmy John’s delivery driver but neither one of those jobs were ever going to last. The last job he had was as a security guard, but he quit because of the horrible hours and the even worse pay.

He was misunderstood because he wasn’t striving to be a teacher or a mentor to any young kids. He didn’t have a career path in mind but was simply a young adult trying to find his own way.

His dad left his mom when J.R. was no more than four feet tall. While his mom initially struggled to raise him by herself, raising Jeremy got easier. She worked at a bank and made enough money to live comfortably until he was about nine. Soon after that, she married one of her oldest friends and they were still happily married to this day.

J.R. and his stepdad were closer than most real fathers and sons. Jeremy knew the man since he was born and they had a lot in common. Part of the reason for success in the relationship was that Jeremy’s stepfather didn’t just accept Jeremy as a son when he married his mother, but actually cared for him before that. He wanted to be the father that J.R. never had. A year after their marriage, he asked Jeremy if it would be all right to adopt him and Jeremy accepted without hesitation.

When Jeremy was old enough to understand that his real father left because he didn’t want anything to do with him and his mom, he accepted it and moved on. For twenty-three years, on the night that he and Michael sat at Brothers, he still did not want to meet his real father. He never even thought about it.

Michael and J.R. were on completely different ends of the spectrum. They weren’t considered two peas in a pod, but the saying “opposites attract” didn’t relate to only male-female relationships. These two best friends were nothing alike, but had a bond like a lot of brothers.

J.R. was the type that got into a lot of fights growing up, and Michael had only ever been in one after school and that was to help out J.R. He studied for tests the night before he had to take them, while Michael would prepare for his tests weeks in advance. That is why J.R. was a C student. He was rugged and tough, while Michael had always been a lover over a fighter.

“You sure you’re ok? You’ve been living on another planet all night,” J.R. said. He filled his glass with beer from a pitcher in the middle of the table. “What’s up? Rough week at work?”

“That would be a hell of an understatement.”

“Well,” J.R. poured the rest of the pitcher into Michael’s glass. “Start drinking and you’ll sleep like a baby.”

Michael and J.R. tapped their glasses together and drank the beer. J.R. tried to speak before he was finished swallowing, so instead of words coming out he just mumbled until all the beer was gone. He coughed when some of the Keystone Light went down the wrong pipe, but he played it cool, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and started humming when he saw a couple girls getting their I.D.s checked by the doorman.

“Here comes the bride,” he sang.

Brittany came walking through the bar with a couple of her friends. She slipped through the crowd and pushed her way to the table with her friends following.

“You’re so funny, you know that?” Michael joked.

“Funny? Hilarious!” J.R. corrected him.

Michael stood up and kissed his girlfriend, “How was dinner?”

“It was fun,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him. “Hi, J.R.”

“Hi, Brit,” he responded mocking her tone of voice. He quickly lost interest in Brittany when he saw how attractive her friend was. She was dark skinned. Her eyes were an elegant brown and her dark hair fell down to the small of her back.

“Hi, I’m Jeremy,” he said to her. “This is Michael,” he added. The tone in his voice gave Michael’s name no importance.

“I know her already, you moron,” Michael whispered.

“Shut up,” J.R. said while still smiling at his newfound love interest.

“Hi, I’m Gi. Nice to meet you,” she responded with a giggle.

“Gee?” he leaned closer to the table to drown out the noise.

“No, Gi. Like the letter,” she smiled.

On the other side of the round table, Michael pulled Brittany closer to his body. He kissed her on the cheek and smiled but after that, his half empty drink got all of his attention. His fingers circled the rim of the glass and he started turning the glass slowly. He didn’t pick it up. He just kept spinning it and watched the liquid inside ripple from the inside out.

“Michael, what’s wrong?” asked a concerned girlfriend. Her tone of voice gave the impression that this was not the first time she had to ask that question.

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me…or should I ask your beer?” Brittany joked when she noticed her boyfriend was having a precious moment with his glass. Michael smiled at her attempt to cheer him up. He looked into her eyes, but kept turning the glass. Each turn was like him, trying to find the right combination to unlock the vault. Once he turned it enough it would open his mouth and his secrets could pour out. It turned and turned. There were seven or eight separate water rings that were being rolled into one big ring. He stopped turning the glass around and turned his body towards her.

“You remember that dream I had?” he whispered. After she nodded, he continued, “it happened again, except I wasn’t sleeping. I was wide-awake. It was right in the middle of class.”

“You were day dreaming?” she asked.

“No. One of the students, a small girl, drew a picture on the back of her spelling test…of an eclipse.”

“Ok,” Brittany nodded but the whole thing was over her head.

“The picture she drew was like an exact frame taken out of my dream. Right before all the meteors started falling and killing everyone,” It dawned on Michael that he hadn’t been that descriptive with his dream up to this point and he paused when Brittany looked worried. He continued with his story, “I was standing in the front yard looking up at an eclipse. It happened exactly like that picture.”

“Maybe you should talk to someone, babe,” Brittany had no idea what to say, but right after she said that she knew it was the wrong thing to say. “It might have been a crazy coincidence.”

“I mean that’s what I figured so I went into the hallway and talked to the girl that drew it, right? But when I showed it to her…it was a dog.”

“What was a dog?”

“The picture. She drew a dog. She drew her dog. The picture I handed you.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I saw an eclipse, but it was never there. She never drew it on that piece of paper. Is that possible? Am I seeing things?”

“Michael, this doesn’t make sense.”

Michael looked frustrated. He tried to remain calm because the last thing that he wanted to do was pick a fight with her, “I know…” he spoke slowly enunciating each word. “That is what I am trying to say.”

“Ok, I’m sorry. Please don’t get mad at me,” she rubbed his shoulders.

“I’m sorry…”

He kissed her on the hand and held it to his face. There was nothing else to say. No silly joke would lighten the mood or put his mind at ease. Sometimes words weren’t necessary, though. She put her hand on his leg and playfully scratched around his kneecap. It was gentle and comforting. He put his hand over hers and felt the softness of the back of her hand. He squeezed her hand, not hard, but firm enough to juice a lemon wedge. He smiled at her, a forced smile, and took a long sip of his drink. They both knew it was time to take a break from the conversation and listened in on the other friends.

“Are you a teacher, too?” J.R. began his interrogation to find a common bond.

“Me? No, I’m not. I work in the counselor’s office.”

“Oh, you’re a counselor,” he repeated with less enthusiasm than he started the conversation with.

“Not exactly. It is sort of a part time job while I finish school. I’m studying to be a school counselor though, but for now I just work in the front office.”

“That’s cool.”

“Does that make you nervous?” she teased.

“No, why? Should it? I was only kidding,” it looked like he was in the beginning stages of hyperventilating he was so nervous.

“No, I was joking too. You know counseling psychologists have a sense of humor too,” her soft smile shook all the nerves in his body. He downed a few more swallows of beer. “So, what do you do? Are you still in school?”

“No. I never finished school. I’m trying to…trying to find my way.”

“Well, that’s cool,” she said. She meant it, too. J.R. was pleasantly surprised because some people judge him as being lazy or as a quitter. He wasn’t either of those things, he just wanted to find something in his life that he could truly have a passion for. He wanted to go to work every day and love what it is he ended up doing.

“You want go to the bar? I’ll get you a drink.”

“Yeah,” she responded with a smirk. “Thanks.”

“You guys want anything?”

“No, thanks,” Brittany responded.

“No, just this one for me,” Michael stared into the bottom of the glass.

Jeremy intended to put his hand on the small of her back, but chickened out and held it out in front of her leading the way to the bar.

“She seems nice. How come I’ve never met her?”

“Because while I have free time, Mr. Kruger rides you all day,” she squeezed the sensitive spot above his kneecap for her own physical exclamation point. “How’s it going with him? I’ve heard he’s a little strange.”

“No, he’s good. It’s going well. He’s a good teacher,” after he answered he had to replay in his head what he just said, “I mean he’s a bit strange, yeah, but he’s nice. I can survive four months.”

“Good.”

“Your teacher ok?” Michael asked as he sipped the remainder of his beer.

“She’s good, but she hasn’t paid much attention to me.”

“She will. It’s only been one week, don’t forget that,” he gently bumped his shoulder into her knowing that she would overreact to the simplest things.

“You’re pretty great, you know?”

“Yeah?” he asked really wanting to hear more.

“Yeah, you are. I love you and I hope you know you’re going to change the world.”

“Teaching sixth grade English. Doubtful.”

“You will. I know it.”

“I love you too, baby,” and then he sealed it with a kiss.

Meanwhile up at the bar, Jeremy was learning as much about Gi as he could. They had already been given their drinks and Gi didn’t rush back to the table to get away from him. She ordered a Seven and Seven and he continued his drinking with another beer.

“So where did you go to School?” he asked her.

“IU.”

“Oh, really? So, you’re from Indiana?”

“No, originally Pennsylvania, but guess where I was born,” she smiled because he really studied her at this point trying to put a place to her face.

“China.”

“That’s a pretty vague guess, don’t you think?”

“Am I right?”

“Tokyo.”

Jeremy nodded and smiled like an idiot, “That’s China, right?”

Gi burst into laughter and threw her hand over her mouth to stop any of her drink from flying out of her mouth. When she was able to talk, she corrected him, “Tokyo is in Japan, Jeremy.”

CHAPTER 18

Michael and J.R. walked the girls to the car and said goodnight. Michael and Brittany said goodbye for what seemed like an hour. Holding each other and planting kisses on each other’s lips. Jeremy and Gi filled that time with quick meaningless conversation. When it was time to leave Jeremy waved and smiled like there was an entire banana wedged in his mouth.

Broadripple was a great place to live for people who were just getting out of college. It was a couple of blocks walking distance to the bars, the housing was cheap, and it was a fifteen-minute drive to downtown Indianapolis where most young people worked. And there was a lot of free parking if you were willing to park a couple blocks from the bars and walk.

Brittany and Gi parked at a meter by the bar and offered to drive them to their car but J.R. insisted on walking. It was probably because he didn’t want to overstay his welcome with Gi and blow his whole night’s work, so he insisted on walking and leaving her…in his words…” wanting more.”

They walked a couple blocks and had one or two more until they got to J.R.’s car for Michael to drive home. They were doing fine, joking, and laughing on the stroll until they came to a house where a couple guys lived. The dim porch light was on and four guys were sitting on the porch drinking.

It wasn’t the ideal temperature to sit on the porch but the guys were too drunk to feel that they were sitting in thirty-degree weather. They were blasting music and hollering nonsense, stupid talk to the people that walked by. Michael and J.R. approached the house laughing. They weren’t at all concerned with the guys. They could shout anything they wanted to and it wouldn’t get to them.

As they crossed over to these guys’ sidewalk, they heard a crash in the street and immediately stopped walking to make sure everything was ok. One of the housemates had thrown a glass beer bottle into the street for the simple fact to see it shatter. It was funny to them. It was for their entertainment.

The street wasn’t busy at this time of night but still, it wasn’t a quiet neighborhood. It was one of many roads towards the bars and that broken glass could cause someone to crash or pop a tire.

J.R. stared a hole into the guy that threw the bottle and that guy saw him staring but it didn’t stop him from throwing another bottle.

“Tiiiiimber!” screamed the idiot. The bottle once again crashed into the street. This was a full bottle so along with the shattered glass, beer splashed into the air.

“Come on, man. The police will show up at some point,” Michael pushed J.R. to keep walking. They walked past the house. J.R. didn’t take his eyes off the guys on the porch.

“Clean this up!” The guy yelled and threw a third bottle. This time the bottle landed at the edge of the driveway. The glass shattered in the street but the beer splashed in the air and J.R. felt something hit his leg. He couldn’t tell if it was the beer or the glass but he knew something hit his leg.

J.R. turned without hesitation and marched to the guy’s yard. Michael did his best to talk him down and pull him away but J.R. was stronger and broke away from his friend. He stopped at the front of the porch.

“You got a problem, man?” J.R. said.

“I’m just hanging with my boys and you walked by glaring at me.”

“You’re throwing bottles into the street like a damn idiot. So why don’t you just knock it off?” J.R. was doing a good job of keeping himself calm but the tone in his voice was an indicator that he could pop off at any second.

“Look, bro, just keep walking, a’right? We’re just having fun,” the kid spoke like an Eminem wannabe, but it was easy to tell that he was actually a very proper kid. He probably went to a private school in the suburbs.

“I would have but your bottle hit me in the leg, dumbass.”

The guy didn’t like being called a dumbass at all. He stepped off the porch and walked closer to J.R. They were now face to face and Michael tried to get between them. He tried pushing J.R. back because he didn’t want to put his hands on the other guy knowing that it would probably get them into a fight.

“Come on. Let the police deal with it,” Michael reiterated.

The guy laughed in Michael’s face but Michael was calm about it. He wasn’t ready to fight. If the newspapers put in a story that a student teacher that works with thirteen-year-old students was in a fight over the weekend, the school would probably suspend him or let him go completely and then he’d have to redo an entire year of school.

J.R. wasn’t as calm at this point. The guy laughing in his face was the final straw. J.R. shoved the guy and he had all of his strength behind him. The guy fell back onto the porch steps and was so heated that he wanted to jump up and retaliate but he struggled to find his footing.

Michael got in between them now and was more aggressive in pushing his friend back. They didn’t notice the guy had gotten to his feet and was pursuing Michael and J.R. The guy swung his fist in the air but was too drunk to aim at the person he wanted. His swing connected to the side of Michael’s face and that dropped Michael to the ground.

J.R. reacted quickly and punched the guy in the face. It was a quick clean shot to his jaw. Immediately after, the guy fell to the ground and crawled around. He was conscious but didn’t seem to be completely in his mind anymore. The shot to his face was enough to knock him silly, if only for a moment.

The rest of the guys on the porch hopped up and helped their buddy up. They were ready to pounce on J.R., but he was ready for them, standing in a fighting position.

All of a sudden everyone stopped. Michael got on all fours on the ground and started screaming at the top of his lungs. It wasn’t an angry scream to scare anyone or even a scream like he was scared. He was in pain. He was in an enormous amount of pain and the scream sent shivers through everyone’s body.

J.R. reached over and put his hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me, AHHHH!” Michael tried to talk but the pain was too much.

J.R. backed up and for a brief moment he and the guys he was about to fight were connected. There was a stint where they were all concerned with what was happening to Michael who had fallen over onto his side and was clutching his stomach.

His eyes were tightly shut but then he opened them and looked straight up at the sky. That’s when J.R.’s mouth, and bottles the guys were holding, dropped to the ground.

Michael’s eyes were a bright gold color. Small dashes of electricity were sparking inside his eyeballs. It was flashing and sparking like when two rocks are banged together. Michael couldn’t scream anymore. His mouth was wide open, his teeth were showing, but he couldn’t scream anymore. Only small coughs came out.

CHAPTER 19

The next morning Michael woke up in a bed that wasn’t his. The walls were an ugly mustard yellow. Across the bed was a gray TV, which sat on top of another much older TV made of wood with numbers on the side to change channels. The wooden one didn’t work so J.R. used it as a TV stand.

Michael found himself covered by a warm blanket designed with light greens and blues, and the same mustard yellow inside of flowers with stripes going down the entire blanket. It was girly, but it wasn’t a girl’s apartment. J.R liked the yellow. He said it calmed him and helped him relax before falling asleep at night. The blanket choice wasn’t his. He snagged it from his parent’s guest bed before he moved out.

Michael stretched his arms out into a giant “y” and a shiver cascaded down his body. He threw his clothes on, the same clothes from the night before and headed to the front door.

He found J.R. sitting at one of the kitchen stools chomping on cereal. Next to him sat an empty bowl with a spoon placed right beside it. Michael came up from behind Jeremy and patted him on the back. He didn’t say anything, and tried to make very little noise while pouring his cereal.

“How ya feeling?” asked Michael.

J.R.’s face scrunched up. He had a headache. He dropped his spoon into the bowl and covered his face while he spoke, “I’ve been better. I think I have a headache.”

Michael laughed at his friend’s misfortune, and he knew it was ok because he could hear J.R. laughing from underneath his hands. The headache and the fact his mouth was covered by his hands turned the laugh into a low inconsistent rumble. It sounded like a cow mooing with the hiccups.

Michael topped his cereal with an overflowing amount of milk. He twisted the cap back onto the gallon and dug his spoon straight to the bottom of the bowl. He pulled up a spoonful of cereal and milk. The milk poured over the edges of the spoon and splashed back into the bowl. The cereal was a corn flake type brand but was shriveled up like a raisin.

“What is this?” asked Michael.

“I don’t know. It was on sale.”

Michael scooped it into his mouth and chewed with dissatisfaction. His jaw moved up and down slower than the horses on a marry-go-round. He opened his mouth and let everything inside plop out into the bowl splashing drops of milk on the tabletop.

“It tastes like garbage,” Michael said as he grabbed the bowl and dropped it into the sink.

“Shut up."

Michael watched J.R. eat. He moved so unenthusiastically that it looked almost painful the way he was chewing the cereal. Michael couldn’t tell if he hated the cereal, if he was trying to eat while fighting back the urge to vomit, or if it was just his headache slowing him down.

“I think I have my next move planned.”

Michael’s eyebrows rose to the top of his head. He was happily surprised because J.R. was finally going to take the next step in his life, but also because it was the first logical statement that came from J.R. since before he started drinking.

“What are you thinking?”

“Well, I was talking to Gi at the bar and I think we found some stuff out about me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t wanna just do something to do something, ya know? I wanna do something important. Something meaningful. Help people.”

“So…?”

“I think I’m going to go into the Army.”

Michael was leaning up against the counter motionless. His expression didn’t change at all from before J.R. said he was going into the army. He stared blankly at his friend. Michael was waiting for the punchline.

“You’re serious?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, what do you think?”

“I mean…I don’t know. I mean if you’re serious about this then you should think about it,” Michael opened the refrigerator and pulled out a small Sunny Delight bottle. He drank over half of it without taking a break.

“I’m gonna call today and see where I go from here.”

“This could blow your chance with Gi,” Michael teased.

“Yeah, but it’ll buy me a couple more years before I have to make, ya know, a legit career path choice.”

“Then go for it. I’m behind you one-hundred percent,” Michael held up his fist and reached towards J.R. They bumped their fists together, which is usually the highest level of affection they show to one another.

“So how you feeling?” J.R. didn’t ask a general question. His tone made it seem like he had something in mind.

“I’m fine, what are you talking about?”

“Are you kidding?”

Michael finished his Sunny D. He looked around for a recycle bin but instead placed the empty bottle on the counter top when he couldn't find it. He shrugged his shoulders and waited for J.R. to explain.

“How about you were lying in some douche bag’s yard screaming at the top of your lung? Your eyes shooting lightning bolts out of your damn pupils.”

“I…” Michael looked to the side and all the events of last night played in his head. “I completely forgot about that.”

“What!? How?”

“I don’t know. I slept like a rock. I don’t think I would have remembered that if you didn’t say anything. I don’t even remember getting home.”

“You drove us home, man. You don’t remember any of that?” J.R. was concerned now.

“No, I don’t.”

“What is going on with you? Do you feel alright?”

“Yeah, I feel fine now.”

“What happened?”

Michael closed his eyes and tried to remember how he felt. It was hard, like a part of his brain was closed off and he had to fight through certain gates in his head to get to that memory.

“It was my stomach,” he started slowly. “It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing me in the stomach with an old ancient sword.”

“That’s messed up. What about your eyes?”

“I don’t know, man. I guess I should go to the doctor.”

“Yeah, do that. They’ll lock you up if you tell the doctor that your eyes shot electricity. But please, go for it.”

Once that thought crossed Michael’s head, he realized it was a bad decision. What happened last night was serious and scary but the idea of telling a doctor what happened made them laugh. They both laughed. Slow and quiet, but they were good at making even the worst situations into a laughing matter. It’s what bonded them as best friends.