by Jim Mohr
I don’t understand this man. First, he tells me to behave and let him deal with Gerdt, then he tells me to get even on my own time. I think: “Humans, they can never make up their damn minds.” “Okay, sir,” I reply.
Mikhailov leans back in his chair. “Cougar, I’m changing your class schedule again.”
I shrug my shoulders as I speak. “Again, this is the first day of my new schedule. Am I getting Art and Literature back?”
“You still think like a civilian. I know where your weakness is. We must work on it and make it stronger. Not to get involved in the Timere/Psychokinetic world, but you need to learn how to fight with your fists, not just throw people around in the world. Now, instead of your day beginning at 7:00 a.m., it will start at 5:00 a.m. You will have ninety minutes of physical training each day. Afterward, you get cleaned up and eat breakfast. Instead of your day ending at 3:00 p.m., it will now end at 4:30 p.m. The last ninety minutes of the day will be spent either on the firing ranges or beginning your military classes. Your schedule will now be physical training, breakfast, German Language Level I, Math Level II, Russian Language Level III, and lunch. Then your afternoon will be Timere Studies, Science Level II, then either firing weapons, or basic military training. Do you have a problem with this?”
“What choice do I have, sir? It is my death if I don’t do it.” Mikhailov does not react to my insubordination, he only looks at me.
“Cougar, if you are being attacked, wait for the right moment, then take care of it. You have your whole life ahead of you. Remember who wronged you, and what they stand for.” I look at Mikhailov; he nods at me and winks. I leave his office thinking how odd he is and I wonder if this is what it feels like to get fucked.
Chapter 9
Cougar—Resistance Installation: Prague, Czech Republic
Volker Gerdt is being kept in the medical ward for injuries suffered during my tantrum. A fat, old woman, smelling of vodka and dried pork, supervises the Timere class. This woman is a human, so she does not know about Timere. Our class is basically an additional study hour. I spend this time reading books on history, tactics, and biographies of some of the world’s greatest military minds. I also check out a Level V book on aeronautical engineering. I don’t understand it, but I try to learn one thing in every chapter.
My physical training class in the morning is populated with kids five years older than me, and my evenings are spent firing the Kalashnikov SGH 18 training pistol. The morning workouts are tough. I am expected to keep up with the older kids in every exercise. I have not yet gone through puberty, so I am at a disadvantage. I see that the physical limits I have been used to, my endurance, strength, and dexterity, have increased as my Psychokinetic power has come alive. My healing power allows me to push myself harder than humans would go. My mind refuses to accept the new limits of my body but I continue to push it. I enjoy the weight room, the track, and hand-to-hand training. Though I regularly get beat up, I push myself harder with every loss. My opponents in hand-to-hand training are more cautious of me every time they fight me. I am improving and they see me as fearless.
The firing range, however, is another story. I am by far the best shot they have ever seen. My first shot ever is barely outside the bulls-eye circle. Firing a weapon seems to be as easy as breathing. The feel of the pistol in my hand is as natural as wearing a shirt or shoes. I can practically see the bullet fly through the air, at least it feels like that.
I finish my range time on Friday evening and Gabrielle waits to escort me back to my room. She does this every day. However, today she is beaming with joy. I strongly consider reading her mind, but I respect her too much to violate my word to her. Her recovery from Monday’s respiratory emergency is completed and she is back to full strength.
“Cougar, I did not forget that next week is your birthday.” I look at her with a smile on my face as I turn my training pistol into the Armory. “We are going on a field trip. There will be a guard accompanying us, but we do have authorization to leave the base.”
“Gabrielle!” I shout, “May we go to the zoo?”
She smiles at me as she answers. “I’m not sure. We can either go there, or the art gallery, or the musical hall.”
“Holy shit!” I shout in Czechoslovakian. Gabrielle and I always speak in Czechoslovakian, ever since our first meeting. She is German by birth but serves at the Prague base. She speaks fluent Czech and German (obviously) and she can speak a little Russian. Her Russian is well behind what I am already speaking.
She frowns at me and giggles. “Don’t swear. It’s not becoming of you.”
I laugh at the language difference. “Gabrielle, holy shit is an English term of surprise, like ‘Good Golly’ or ‘Oh wow!’”
“It is not!” She chuckles as she touches my shoulder. “Besides, you spoke in Czech, not English.” We cross the threshold into the base and she continues, “I’ll get you at 6:00 a.m. We’ll eat breakfast, and then I’ll need to know where we are going, okay?”
“Gabrielle, does the zoo have mountain lions?”
“Yes dear, they do.”
“I’ve made my decision. I want to go to the zoo.”
She flicks her ponytail sarcastically; she knew that is what I would choose. “Very well, Cougar. The zoo it is.”
I stop walking and look at Gabrielle. “Gabrielle, can I ask you a question?”
“Absolutely, what is it?”
“I miss my mom every day. I may never see her again.” Tears form in my eyes as the pain awakens. “I love you like you’re my mom. Do you consider me your son?”
She kneels to the floor, so we are eye to eye. She grabs my shoulders as guards pass us in the hall. Tears form in her eyes. “Cougar, I am very fond of you. I am very proud of you. Yes, I feel close to you, as if you are my son. Your mom must really be a special woman.” She hugs me. As we embrace in the hallway, I feel one of her tears fall onto my neck. It reminds me of the last time I saw my mom. I have only known Gabrielle for a few months, and already this bond has formed. Is it because she is childless, and I am parentless? Is it something to do with me being a Psychokinetic and her being a human? I’d like to think it’s because she cares about me, and not that it is her job to get close to me.
I begin to wonder if I am the same person who, only four months earlier, had beaten a kid to death? The same one who, only days earlier, had thrown a girl across the room, breaking her arm and fracturing several of Gerdt’s ribs and sternum in the process? I do not know myself, not like before that morning with Todd. I am different, I have changed. The world around me seems to be an endless adventure, and I am the superhero. I miss home, my mom, and my bedroom. I miss my friends and I miss being a normal kid. The smell of gunpowder on me reminds me that I am training for war.
Chapter 10
Cougar—Resistance Installation: Prague, Czech Republic
In all of my readings about the city of Prague, the books do not do it justice. The city seems to be an extension of myself, it is my persona. The sights, smells, history, and food, all call to me like nothing back home ever did. The Vlata River in November is beautiful, and this before the snows have fallen and turned everything white. The crisp mountain air and the Bohemian influence throughout the city offer another adventure for me.
I learn that the Prague base is several miles away from the city itself. The Resistance has tried to be as remote as possible while still protecting the host countries. Our uniforms bring smiles from the townsfolk; their minds are full of well wishes, prayers, and their courage grows by our presence.
The Prague zoo is one of the largest in the world and houses animals from every continent. The buildings are color-coded, based on the continent: Africa is light tan, Asia is a nasty orange color, North America is light blue, and so on.
The driver parks the vehicle and the three of us—Gabrielle, myself, and our escort guard, exit it.
“I want to see the cougar!” I yell.
“Oh really? I never would have guessed,” Gabrielle chuckles as we walk toward the North American building.
The walk to the light blue buildings is at a gentle pace. I hold myself back from running, I want to enjoy the bit of freedom, the sights, and sounds of the outside world. This morning the zoo already has many visitors. There are children of all nationalities running about, many are being chased by yelling parents. I can sense I am the only Psychokinetic and there are no Timere. I don’t know how far my senses work, but I know the immediate proximity.
The entrance to the North American building is lined with a beautiful collection of murals of the North American wilderness: deserts of the Southwest, woodlands of the north, snowy scenes of mountains, lakes, and rivers. I remember my home in Southern Wisconsin. The sandy soil and dots of trees across the rolling hills. It differs greatly from northern Wisconsin where the trees come to the road.
I seek the area named: psy a kocky (dogs and cats) and we head straight for it. Inside the building are foxes, wolves, coyotes, bobcats, leopards, and my beloved cougars. I approach the glass wall separating the only cougar here from us. It is smaller than the one from my power dreams. Its golden back is toward us and its tail is flopping on the ground. The great cat lifts its tail and lets it fall. The act seems out of boredom, nothing is here for this animal to do. I touch the glass, the tail stops, and the cat raises its head. I can feel the cat’s life. There is a bond between us I cannot describe. Humans may feel something like this when they meet their soul mate (whatever that is). The bond isn’t a gross love like adults have. It seems to be a spiritual love, like how I feel when my mom would read me bible stories. Maybe it is like what the Native Americans felt long ago, with the world and nature.
Gabrielle seems shocked at the reaction of the cougar to my presence. Cats greet each other by hitting the tops of their heads together, like our handshakes. I stand there with the top of my head pressed against the glass, waiting for the cat to greet me. I feel as if I am a little kid playing bulldozer or some such game.
I can sense the cougar stand as it walks toward me. Images enter my mind. They are of captivity, humans, and an unfulfilled life. The cougar reaches the wall and it too presses its head against the glass. We have introduced ourselves.
I remove my head from the glass and sit, facing the mountain lion. I seem to become oblivious to the happenings around me. I only see those beautiful yellowish, almost hazel eyes. I see this cat’s life, its misery. Our communication is without words as if our minds are one. I understand its behaviors, its fears. It fears mankind, their aggression, and their lack of sympathy. I see a wild animal abused and tamed into an imprisoned life. It is dead, without even knowing it.
I feel a deep-seated pain. My friend across the glass from me cannot escape. It cannot flee or have a life in any way enjoyable. It is trapped. My mind seems to spin as images of my dad being killed, the dirty girl hurting me, the guns, the guards, the jets… I also am imprisoned. I cannot flee, I hate my life, I am trapped… To escape these people, I must get stronger. I will only have one chance. With no money, no knowledge of a way back home, I must wait. I cannot live my life like this. I will bide my time and escape with a sudden, powerful use of force.
***
The next day, Sunday, I learn that Volker Gerdt has been released from the medical ward. He will be teaching the Timere class on Monday. My death is imminent and I must resign myself to this situation. When my dad used to unleash “Rich and Gold,” his fists of fury, on me, I had to accept the beatings. I couldn’t defend myself, I was too weak. To gain strength I must struggle, fail, struggle, and fail some more. I know from my books that very few are victorious from the start. I will take whatever the Timere throw at me and I will grow because of it. They will hone me into a weapon; they will feed the fire inside of me.
At breakfast I am alone, Gabrielle is meeting with Mikhailov. I sense the approach of a Timere as I devour a Czech apple strudel. I look up and am eye to eye with “the dirty girl,” the one named Nada Dvorak. Her arm is in a sling; it is broken from her crash into Gerdt.
“Cougar?” she asks. I can sense fear in her, she fears me.
“Yes?” I reply.
“I am sorry that I used my powers against you.”
I hesitate, not knowing what to say to this Timere, skeptical of her intentions. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
“I brought you something.” She places her apple strudel on the table. “I see that you like them, and I want to be your friend.”
I think that this is a ploy, but damn… She brought apple strudel. “Thank you. Does your arm hurt?”
“Yes, sometimes.” Her voice is meek and soft.
“Nada, let me touch your hand.” She reaches for me with her healthy hand. I grab it softly.
When Psychokinetic’s heal, we unleash a power based on love, sacrifice, and affection. It is disturbing when it happens. The person being healed feels the love, but the healing process hurts. Bones instantly fusing, flesh growing back: it hurts! I unleash my healing power. Nada’s eyes light as the pain scorches its way through the broken bone. She doesn’t scream, she doesn’t even whimper. Her dirty face is streaked with muddy rivulets of tears, but she isn’t sad.
She looks at me in awe. “Thank you. Cougar, be careful. Funnel Web and Mr. Gerdt have talked about you. They’re planning something horrible.”
I look at the apple strudel that Nada had given me. “Nada, take your strudel. I can never take your food. You are my friend and I want you to make sure that you don’t get into trouble. We’ll be secret friends.”
She smiles as she moves the fingers on her newly healed arm. “Cougar, Gerdt sent for his blood chair.”
“Blood chair?” I thought that I had misunderstood her Russian dialect.
“I must leave, Cougar. Thank you.” She picks up her strudel and hurries away.
Funny that the words “blood chair” isn’t in my mind. I am thinking, as she hurries away, “Shit, the strudel is making a break for it!” Blood chair, what an odd phrase… I shake my head in disgust at the fucking goofy Timere. Learn the Russian language, she must mean “wood chair.”
Chapter 11
Cougar—Resistance Installation: Prague, Czech Republic
During Monday morning’s physical training I try not to use my healing power. I have to be ready for whatever those jerks Gerdt and Funnel Web are planning for me. I daydream about the Timere during my morning classes. Could I have been wrong about hating all Timere? Are they like any other race or species? Some good, some evil…
As Gabrielle and I leave lunch, she touches my shoulder softly. “Cougar, please behave in Timere class.” I do not look up at her while we walk. I am resolute in my destiny.
“I will. If anything happens, it will be their doing, not mine.”
“Cougar, Mikhailov wants you to get into more military classes. The firing range officers are already bragging about your marksmanship.”
I smile. “Yeah, I can shoot a gnat’s butt off at 10 meters.”
“Cougar! The language.” She furrows her brows, meaning to show disapproval of my language, however, the small flickering smile in the corners of her mouth betray her.
“Sorry, Gabrielle… Mom… the word butt is off limits too?” Gabrielle smiles lovingly at me as I continue. “Not only can’t I say: ass, fuck, or shit, I can’t say butt?” I exhale deeply as we turn the corner and see, standing in front of the door to the Timere class, Gerdt and Funnel Web.
“Oh shit,” Gabrielle mumbles.
“Gabrielle! The language,” I reply quietly as she squeezes my shoulder softly.
Both Gerdt and Funnel Web look at me with a hatred I can feel. It is as if their souls are empty of any love and carry only hatred. I suppose I look as hateful to them, but my brief talk with Nada the day before has softened my view
of Timere.
“Well, our experiment has arrived,” Gerdt says, his voice is filled with contempt. Funnel Web laughs tauntingly at Gerdt’s words.
Gabrielle looks at me and then at Gerdt. “Mr. Gerdt, remember our talk last week. You will not be reminded.”
Gerdt straightens his back as he looks at Gabrielle. His eyes are filled with a hateful lust toward her. “Listen, human, your little plaything must learn the Timere family lineage. Today we will learn about the snake family. The little bastard will be fine. Funnel Web here will see to it.”
My hands sweat as I look at the little fuck who now goes solely by the name, Funnel Web. He glares at me as he speaks. “Yes sir, Mr. Gerdt. I will be happy to see to Cougar.”
Fear builds in my chest. I remember times when my dad would spank me with his belt. I would have to undress from the waist down, lie across his knee, and wait for the burning lash of his belt on my bare rear end. I feel that same terror now and want nothing more than to run. Inside me, under the fear, I feel the mountain lion. This odd power that has awoken in me works to calm my fear. I hear in my head the words from my dreams, “I am a predator; I will never be prey.” I must gain something from this experience, I must learn names.
Gabrielle leaves as I enter ahead of Funnel Web and Gerdt. I head for my seat. Gerdt speaks up, “No, that is no longer your desk. Your chair is here, at the front of the class.”
In front of Gerdt’s desk sits a chair. It is blackened with some dark fluid and age. The paint on the seat is worn off, either by use or by having been washed off by fluids. Leather straps hang from the armrests and front legs of the chair. It is a device for torture, akin to the chairs used in executions. I sense the evil in this wooden chair. I smell a familiar smell emanating from it, something from my past, something metallic. I dry heave as I gaze at the evil chair. The mountain lion inside me seems to growl as if to warn me.
