“Can’t you just call them powers?” Parker asked. “Like super heroes–they have special powers. Gift sounds weak.”
“Okay. Powers, Parker. Is that better?”
Parker smiled. “Yep.”
“Wait.” Calvin was still trying to wrap his mind around what Fiona said. “Are you saying this place is … what, in the sky?”
Fiona flashed him a grin. “Exactly. Now come here. Come stand at either side of me.”
“Are you serious? That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” Parker let out a hyped-up laugh as he strode to stand at her right. Calvin took position at her left.
Fiona looked at each of them in turn. “Okay then. We’re going to soar on the count of three. You ready?”
“Totally,” Parker said.
Calvin nodded, eyes set on the patch of dirt at his feet.
Fiona started the countdown. “One…”
Familiar warmth surged down Calvin’s legs as he squatted into place, pressure brewing at the soles of his feet, prepping him for take off as the countdown continued.
“Two…” Fiona squatted lower to the earth. Calvin did the same, eyeing the clear, blue sky above them. Parker finally joined them by hunching down as well.
“Three!”
The mounting steam beneath Calvin’s feet launched him into the sky. Wind rushed, strong and certain against his face, had him fighting for the next breath. Like the night before, the air was crisp and cool. Only now, as he shot higher into the sky, the sun shone bright upon him. The healing warmth from the sun’s rays seemed to feed his damaged soul. He welcomed the bright heat, used it to calm the jostled state of his mind.
Just as they passed the snow-capped peaks of the Rocky Mountains – the scene alive with rich depth and texture – a sudden stillness replaced the speeding motion of air. He recognized the weightless moment, the pause that took hold as he reached the height of his skyward journey. This time, the moment seemed to extend, defy even the supernatural law he’d come to know. Still, gravity would take hold soon, and he wanted to check out the view before it did.
The sun graced the far end of the canyon, lighting a view of rich evergreens, frosted sage, and muted tones of brown.
“We made it,” Fiona whispered.
Calvin blinked, scrutinizing the view below as a strange, hidden matter began to reveal itself. A massive canvas of solid white appeared in a fast-moving ripple beneath them, thick and thorough, hiding all hints of their world below. It seemed as if the material had been there all along and was simply showing itself in a seamless wave of visibility. Soon the clear blue sky was gone as well, replaced by a canopy of stretching white.
Calvin’s silent moment of awe was cut short when gravity gripped hold, plunged them toward the canvas below. His heart surged into action.
“We’re going to break through it,” Parker cried, voicing Calvin’s fear as well. The wind hummed in his ears as they dropped, faster and faster toward the mystery material beneath them.
“Impossible,” Fiona hollered over the noise.
Though he couldn’t actually tell where the end was, Calvin braced himself for the landing. Waiting. Flinching. Muscles tightening. “What’s happening?” he shouted.
“We’re about to land,” Fiona said.
Just then, it came. A slight resistance against his feet. The pull of a long, seamless bounce sent the three of them back up into the stillness.
Parker’s arms flailed wildly. “It’s like a trampoline.”
Calvin agreed. He hunched down as he met with the stretchy softness a second time, expecting it to bounce him back into the strange atmosphere around him, but it didn’t. The foreign material only gave way just enough to absorb their weight. Calvin pressed the soles of his shoes into the ever-changing matter as it firmed and hardened under his feet. He smiled. “That was incredible.” He looked down once more, glanced over his body and sucked in a quick breath. When he looked at Fiona and Parker, he gasped again. They were sketched–sketches of silvery lead lines. He took a step to see the drawing of his own leg move forward.
“No way.” He held up his hand, studied the rough lines that made the squared tips of his fingers. They were shaded just enough to give him dimension. He grabbed hold of his shirt next. What was once a rusty shade of brown, was now shades of white and grey–the color of pencil’s lead. And though it looked to be nothing more than a simple sketch, the article of clothing was completely tangible, there within his grasp.
“This is awesome,” Parker said, pulling Calvin from his reverie. He looked over to see Parker admiring his sketched-out denim, complete with the rugged tear over his knee.
“What is this?” Calvin’s voice was nearly lost in the hollow atmosphere.
“Well, Calvin, you’re the creator. It was your subconscious mind that sketched us out this way. Are you an artist?” she ventured.
He nodded.
“Interesting. You know, I really thought I’d seen it all. But this…” She checked out the rendition of her tights, boots, and clothes. “This is a first. You’ve got a fairly accurate memory. This is almost exactly what I was wearing. I have to tell you, most men embellish their physical form in one way or another. They make themselves stronger, more handsome. Many even convert themselves into icons. I’ve seen Superman, Greek Gods, you name it. People inadvertently create who they’d like to be instead of who they are. The first time is always quite revealing.” She paused for air while looking him up and down. “You must be pretty confident, Calvin. Happy with the way you are.”
Calvin shrugged, eyeing what looked to be a blank canvas surrounding them.
“Hey, since I’ve never been drawn before,” Fiona said. “How about doing me a favor before we start.”
Calvin looked at her. “Okay.”
“Give me a mirror. I’m dying to see how you’ve sketched out my face.”
“Oh my gosh,” Parker said. “You are so vain. You want to look in a mirror right now?”
As Calvin indulged her, anxious to experiment with his new ability, he wondered what it would feel like to bring Evie to his new world, create the flawless features of her beautiful face without conscious effort. He imagined the appeal of her smile, the way her apple cheeks caught reflections of light, casting a glow of warmth across her face.
“Dude, you made me shorter.” Parker accused angrily. He and Fiona competed for space in front of a full-length mirror. Parker’s penciled brows furrowed in disgust. “Think you were wrong about him, Fiona,” he said. “Looks like what he really wants is to be taller than his older brother, because suddenly, he is. And I’ve always been a half inch taller than you, Calvin.”
“I think you did very well with me.” Fiona broke away from her reflection.
Parker assumed position at the mirror. “Can’t believe you made me shorter.” He turned to check out his backside.
“Okay, you haven’t finished it yet,” Fiona said. “We need a surrounding. Since your dreams have all taken place in the canyon, it’d be best to stick with that. That way, you’ll know how to use your surroundings to your advantage, if possible.”
Calvin nodded as Fiona stepped behind him, disappearing from view.
He focused on the endless page before him, visualizing the canyon grounds in a whole new way–sketched out with his favorite pencil: a Staedtler B.
He kept it colorless, imagining his own hands at work on a blank sheet. Dimension was a welcome gift. The nature of their all-white shield had made it seem as if they were in some kind of bubble. He’d felt as if he could reach out and touch both sides at once. Only now, as the land unfolded in a wave before them, their roughly drawn world was endless. Trees, mountains, rocks, and shrubs; a waterfall that beckoned him. He was fascinated when the scenes of nature took on their own roles. The river, flowing, the birds, chirping.
Fiona smiled when an orange butterfly appeared, the only splash of color in their world. “It’s perfect,” she said. “Now I need you to create a couple of guys
so you two can practice fighting techniques.”
That sounded easy enough. “Okay.”
“A few things to keep in mind.” Fiona held up a finger. “The impact you’ll feel is no different than if you were actually fighting a real person. And your opponents will respond as if they’re real, but remember, they’re simply mused beings, meaning you’re not actually inflicting pain on anyone. So don’t feel bad or take it easy on them unless you want to get your butt kicked.” She held up a second finger and looked at Calvin. “Also, once you create these men, their ability will match whatever size and body type you give them, at first.”
“What do you mean by, at first?” Parker sounded wary.
“I meant that, as the muses fight, their strength and abilities will rise to match, and even exceed that of their competitors. Does that make sense?”
“Kind of. So what, I draw these guys out and they’re just going to come to life?” Calvin asked.
“Exactly. Plus, I forgot to mention–and this is important–you two are far from invincible. I know Parker got all excited when the broken window incident failed to draw blood. But the fact is, you will be able to feel pain, bruise, bleed, or even die. Just not as easily.” She sounded oddly cheery while delivering that tidbit.
“Thanks for the heads up,” Calvin said.
Parker shot Fiona a glare. “That sucks.”
“So we’re really going to be able to make contact with these guys?” Calvin asked.
“Yes. And design them so they’re angry and ready to fight. Concentrate on that while you’re creating them, and they’ll take on that role.”
Calvin focused on a sketched patch of land, imagining a strong and fearsome man. And, just like the mirror and the canyon scene, the large, menacing brute appeared. “This one’s for you, Parker. Are you ready?”
Parker shuffled in his penciled shoes, eyeing his competitor’s trunk-like legs. “Yeah, I think so.” He pumped a few fist blows to the space in front of him.
The figure remained motionless while Calvin finished the details. It resembled the man Parker had sent flying onto the pool table with the bleeding nose. A giant of a man with similar features. Calvin amused himself by drawing in a slightly crooked nose, imagining the effects of Parker’s super-strength blow.
Once he finished, Calvin stepped back, wondering if the mused being would actually come to life and fight like Fiona promised.
He did. His giant hands formed beefy fists that swung at Parker’s face, clocking him right in the jaw. Parker stood there for a moment, looking stunned and exhilarated all at once. And then he swung back.
Calvin was captivated in an instant, mesmerized by the fast-moving fight of sketched men. He couldn’t deny that his brother had more experience in this area than he did. So he took mental notes as they threw fists, jabbed kicks and…body slammed? Ouch.
Parker groaned as he hit the dirt, flat against his back.
“You okay?” Calvin asked, a laugh buried beneath the question.
With the giant’s foot pressed firmly against his face, Parker managed to speak through puckered lips. “I think this guy wants revenge from last night.”
Calvin chuckled.
“Alright,” Fiona said. “Time to make one for yourself. You do know your strength should match Parker’s now, right?”
“No, I didn’t know that. Nice.” His mind flooded with possibilities as Parker’s use of the word ‘revenge’ triggered a memory from his earlier school days. He decided to take the opportunity to get even with an ugly bully from middle school–Danvoy Lewis. He was a giant, and a mean one at that. Older than the other kids, though nobody ever knew his real age. He’d flunked so many times that he was in his twenties, or so rumor had it.
Excitement brewed within Calvin as he scribbled in the final details. A gnarled mess of hair sat atop his banana shaped head, complete with beady eyes and thin, scabby lips. An exact likeness of his recollection.
“Come to papa,” Calvin coolly whispered as he finished, motioning for the bully to come closer. The Danvoy look-alike came at him with a familiar snarl, pumping his lead-sketched fists. Calvin smiled in anticipation. He wouldn’t run or hide like he had in seventh grade. He wouldn’t sneak behind the gym to avoid him like he had in eighth. This time, Calvin would ball up his fists and fight.
The first blow was exhilarating. Calvin reveled in the way his fist felt against Danvoy’s face, his reaction to it. He swung again, and then again, momentum pumping through every fiber of his being. To watch his long and heavy head fly back at the blows satisfied the tormented adolescent inside.
The bully occasionally made contact as well, but Calvin only used it as fuel. Forward, onward, confidence growing with every labored breath. He vaguely noticed the true color of his olive-toned fist with his next strike to the bully’s face. Danvoy’s skin turned into its true, fleshy pink as well. Calvin continued to dominate all the while.
A brown lock of hair fell in front of one eye, and Calvin swooshed it back to see his enemy as he proceeded to pelt and pound. Fully alive, blood surging through his heated frame, he gripped the hated brute into a firm headlock, and watched his head turn from pale pink to ruby red.
“Say, ‘I’m sorry for making your life miserable in middle school.’ Say it, low-life,” Calvin demanded.
“I’m sorry for making your life miserable in middle school,” the creature moaned.
“Good.” He released him and straightened up, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
Parker and his opponent gawked at him, speechless.
“Danvoy Lewis?” Parker laughed. “You made your guy into Danvoy Lewis?”
“Yeah, I did. I beat the hell out of him and it felt great.” Calvin pushed up his black sleeves, realizing he was in his old skull bone tee shirt. He looked down to see a pair of Converse high tops on his feet. His arms and legs were thinner. Shorter. “Guess I got a little carried away.” He chuckled at his juvenile physique.
“I’ll say,” Parker said. “You’re back in school.”
With the tip of his head, Calvin checked out his surroundings. Orange lockers, tiled ceilings, a dimly-lit hallway with gold, matted carpet. He stood steps away from his old locker next to the gym. “This is a trip.”
“Totally.” Parker, still in his penciled form, walked from the sketched canyon grounds into the school surrounding.
Fiona lay sprawled out on a bench by the girls’ bathroom. “Okay, why don’t you guys trade fighting partners now,” she said.
“Man, you should see your face,” Parker said. “It’s going to be so bruised.”
Calvin nodded. “Yeah. Yours, too.”
As soon as he stepped out of the school setting, Calvin returned to his current physical form, feeling stronger and satisfied. He decided to take on a new approach for the next fight. This time, he’d think about how he would conquer. First, the evil pawn at Jocelyn’s command. Next, the crazed woman behind the killing spree–the one responsible for his mother’s death, and the cause of such grief and sorrow for generations. He would triumph, and he’d do it keeping Evie alive.
As he focused on the purpose behind his mission, Calvin let his opponent get in the first blow–an elbow to the jaw. Barely flinching from the impact, he stepped up, taking one more hit to the chest before dodging the third assault. Keenly fixed on his duty–his absolute need to keep Evie safe–he filled his lungs and fought.
With each massive thrust of his fist, the force of every brutal kick, Calvin tried to silence that nagging voice in his head–the one that assured him leaving Evie was the only sure way to keep her safe.
During the long, physical fight, he continued to war inwardly as well, wishing the difference between wrong and right would make itself known. He wanted to be convinced–certain beyond any doubt–that fighting Jocelyn was the right thing to do. Yet no matter how intense the struggle, or how noisy the grunts and moans of battle, that doubting voice seemed to prevail.
Once the muses were gone, his an
d Parker’s strength for the day spent, Calvin caught a glimpse of Fiona while the idea raced through his head. As if she knew what he was considering, the fast-talking sentinel gave him the disapproving shake of her head. Whether or not she could hear his thoughts, he didn’t know or even care. He only knew there was a choice to be made. And now, it was up to him to make it.
Chapter Twenty-six
“Mmm, can’t believe how good this is,” Evie said. “I never thought I’d like sushi.” She picked up the tall, green glass, took a sip of the iced water, and smiled at Calvin. He sat next to her on the booth seat, staring at what seemed to be a blank spot on the table.
“What’s the matter?”
He gave her a weak smile, barely allowing his dimple to show. “Nothing.”
“Are you thinking about the fight from last night?” When he didn’t answer, Evie reached over, put a hand on the side of his ruggedly handsome face. Calvin shut his eyes as she ran her fingertips across the smooth length of his forehead, down his cheek where she cupped his chin in her hand. Gently, she slid her thumb over the split in his lower lip, and then kissed the wound. Once, twice. She glided her lips up to his blackened lid next, kissed it softly, and felt goose bumps rise on the inner part of his muscular forearm just beneath her fingers.
Evie pulled back to study the damage to his face once more. Though Calvin had opened his eyes, they may as well have been closed still, so distant was the world inside them.
“I could kill Parker for that.” Her voice turned hard. “What’s wrong with him? Seriously. When is he ever going to grow up?”
A flicker of concern showed on his face. “No, don’t be mad at Parker. I mean, I think he actually learned his lesson this time.”
She took a moment to study his attractive face, noticing his discomfort, wondering where it had come from. Why was he acting so different? Perhaps he was just consumed with frustration for Parker. Or disturbed by the outcome of the brawl last night, which still remained a mystery to her. She looked down at her food, knowing her appetite was ruined.
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