The Pen is Mightier

by J. A. Cipriano

  “Don’t feel too bad, this always happens,” Marty said, slumping in his seat as our cheerleaders tried to rouse our players to action with a stunning display of booty shaking. And while it didn’t stop our team from losing the ball again, it made me even angrier.

  Those were our girls, and our team was letting them down by losing. Something about the sight pissed me off, and as their best player, a guy named Jeffries got the ball, I pulled out my pen and written a line.

  Jeffries loses the ball to Maddocks who makes a three-point shot.

  As I finished, Jeffries, stumbled and the ball hit his foot before ricocheting off across the court right into the waiting hands of our guy. He took one look around before passing it to Maddocks who took three steps before taking a shot.

  Nothing but net.

  And as the crowd went wild and the cheerleaders began to dance and gyrate, I stared down at my pad, dumbstruck. I hadn’t expected that to actually work.

  Only it had.

  “Did you see that shot?” Marty asked, grabbing my arm and practically shaking me. “It was amazing.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded to him as all eyes turned back to the game but mine.

  Let our team win.

  The words vanished, and as they did, I remembered what I’d learned with Gwen at the clinic. It had to be doable, and specific. At least, I was pretty sure it had to be both those things. Sure, the pen had a bit of randomness to it, and sometimes distorted my intentions a bit, but at the same time, I wondered if there was a way around it.

  Make our players ten times better at basketball.

  This time the words stuck, and it was a good thing too because Jeffries was driving straight up the center. Only as soon as I finished writing, Garcia stole the ball and passed it to Maddocks for another three-pointer. It had happened so fast, the ball was bouncing off the court in the wake of the shot before anyone realized our team had scored.

  “Holy fuck,” Marty said as the clock hit zero, letting us know halftime was starting.

  “Yeah, our team got good,” I said, nodding. “I hope they win.”

  “Me too.” He smirked at me. “I know you don’t like sports, but this is exciting.” He held up his empty cup. “Gonna grab another. You?”

  “Sure,” I said with a shrug as he made his way to the concession stand with some of the money I’d given him from earlier. Only as he went to leave, Gail made an announcement that stopped him in his tracks.

  “And now it is time for our half-court shot. Does anyone think they can make it?” I looked up to see her standing there beside Maddocks in the center of the court. She looked small next to him, and as they surveyed the crowd, Maddocks spoke up.

  “You know the drill. If no one volunteers, we’ll just pick volunteers.” He smirked. “No one wants that.”

  “That’s the best part,” Marty said, moving back to his seat. No one can ever make that.” He shrugged. “Beer can wait for hijinks.”

  As he spoke, I decided I wanted to make that shot. Sure, it was meant to be funny because people couldn’t do it, but I wouldn’t miss.

  I make the half-court shot.

  Satisfied the words didn’t disappear, I got to my feet and waved for their intention. “I volunteer as tribute.”

  “Dude, what are you doing?” Marty asked as Gail swung her gaze toward me.

  “Roger?” Gail asked, surprised.

  “Good, come on up here,” Maddocks said, a grin breaking across his dark face. “Finally someone with some gumption. You could learn a lot from him.”

  “Roger, don’t do this. They’re all gonna laugh at you,” Marty hissed as I stepped past him and headed toward the aisle.

  “Only if I miss,” I said, and as he rolled his eyes at me, I made my way toward the court.

  “Roger, what are you doing?” Gail asked as she met me at the edge of the court. “You’re gonna look like a fool.”

  “Unless I make it,” I replied with a shrug. “And I wanna make it for you.” She gave me a weird look, but I barreled on anyway. “I mean, I only came because you asked me to come, said it would be fun, right? Well, making it would be fun, right?”

  “I don’t even know what to say to that,” she replied as we approached half-court and Maddocks offered me the ball.

  “How do you plan on making it?” Maddocks asked, looking me up and down. “Overhand? Granny?”

  “I’m gonna just throw it really hard,” I said with a smirk as I took the ball. It was heavier than I expected, which was partially because I hadn’t held a basketball since high school gym. Wow, that felt like forever ago.

  “He’s just gonna throw it really hard,” Maddocks said, nodding to me and the crowd cheered. “That’s what I’d do too.”

  “We know,” someone called back from the crowd, and more people laughed.

  It was weird because that was when I realized how many people were looking at me. And I’d volunteered for this? I was an idiot.

  “I, um…” I took a deep breath as I shut my eyes and tried to envision them all getting hit in the face with pies or something to help with my nervousness. It didn’t help, but then again, it didn’t matter. I’d already written I’d make the shot. Now I just had to take it.

  “You ready?” Gail asked, putting a hand on my shoulder, and from the sound of her voice, it was like I was being sent off to war. “It’s okay if you miss. They don’t usually televise this part.”

  “Awesome,” I mumbled, taking a deep breath. Then because I was an idiot, I smiled at her. “This one is for you.”

  I tossed the ball before I could even think about what I was doing, throwing it as hard as I could at the basket. It flew through the air like a heat-seeking missile, sinking into the hoop with a swish of net. The stadium went dead silent for a second before bursting into applause, whoops, and calls.

  “That was amazing,” Maddocks said, turning to look at me. “Maybe I should give you this.” He tugged at his jersey.

  “Nah, you can keep your shirt on,” I said with a smirk, right before Gail kissed me on the cheek. The touch of her soft lips on my flesh caused a flash of heat to travel down the entirety of my body, and as I turned to see her grinning at me, I realized how badly I wanted to kiss her.

  “Thank you,” she said, hand lingering on my shoulder for a moment. “For saying it was for me.”

  17

  “Dude, I still don’t understand how you made that shot from half-court at the school game for that contest,” Marty said, shaking his head as I put the scratch and win lotto tickets I’d bought earlier in my pocket. “That was just insane.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty cool,” I said, touching my cheek where the head cheerleader, Gail, had kissed me. I could still feel the press of her soft lips on my skin, and while part of me wanted to feel them elsewhere, I hadn’t made that happen. Yet, anyway.

  “I just don’t get it. First, they give us floor seats, and then you go up and make the fucking shot.” He shook his head. “And you don’t even seem to care.”

  “Oh, I care,” I said as I opened the door. “That’s why I did it.”

  “What do you mean?” Marty asked as we got into the Audi.

  “Eh?” I asked, confused.

  “What do you mean that’s why you did it?” he asked, repeating himself and fixing me with his blue eyes. “Like cut the shit, man. No one has the luck you’ve had in the last hour.” He shook his head. “I mean Gail gave you her number, and she’s way out of your league.”

  “She did, didn’t she?” I smirked, remembering how the cheerleader had kissed me. I’d thought about her many a time, but never had I been so close to her. It was strange because the thing I remembered most about the moment was how great she smelled. Like strawberries and cream.

  “Right, and you’re a giant tool, so what gives. Did you find a magic lamp or something?” He leaned in close to me. “You can tell me, okay? We’re pals.”

  “I will, I promise,” I said, not sure if I’d make good on it just yet. Pa
rt of it was that while I wanted to share the fun with Marty, I wasn’t quite ready to tell him yet. I kept thinking I’d just wake up and my powers would be gone.

  “Whatever, man,” he said, getting out of the car and stepping into the Dewey’s parking lot. “You’re buying.” He touched his chest. “I don’t have a job anymore.”

  “Fair enough,” I said, getting out and locking the Audi even though I’d written a line ensuring it wouldn’t get stolen. “I’ll pay since you’re poor now.”

  “Dude, you’re fucking with my mojo.” He shot a sidelong glance at me.

  “My bad,” I said, shrugging as he pushed open the glass doors to the restaurant and stepped through the thick wooden doors.

  I was greeted by the sight of a thousand posters on the walls. It was always interesting because right between a picture of lions on the Serengeti and a movie poster for Predator was a painting of dogs playing poker. The whole place was like that, actually, covered from head to toe in pictures, posters, and everything in between. None of which made any sense together.

  The smells of deep pit barbecue hit my nose, all tangy barbeque, brown sugar, and fatty meat as we stepped up to the counter where an older lady with red hair smiled up at us. She wore a uniform that consisted of blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a blue shirt with the Dewey’s signature red switchblade emblazoned on the left breast.

  “Hey, Stacy,” Marty said from beside me as he threw one hand up in a casual wave. “How are the kids?”

  “Terrors,” she said, grabbing two laminated menus out of the basket as she circled the lacquered wooden hostess’s station and came toward us. “But I love ‘em all the same.” She looked us both up and down. “Two?”

  “Yep, just the boys,” Marty said, knocking me on the shoulder with one fist. “And, you know… if you could…” He took a deep breath.

  “I’ll put you in Lisa’s section.” She grinned at Marty. “But you be nice to that girl. She’s an angel.”

  “Oh, I will be nothing but a perfect gentleman,” he said, sheepishly looking at the ground.

  “Good,” she said as she spun on her heel and made her way through the tables. The place was a bit over half full, but I knew that in another hour or so, it’d be packed with a huge wait. The key was getting there before five thirty for two reasons. For one, you could actually get a table, and for two, happy hour ended at six.

  “Man, maybe this was a bad idea…” Marty said, glancing over at me as I followed behind Stacy.

  She gestured to a booth in the back corner, and when I nodded, she laid the menus down on it. Then she fished a pair of fork and knife combos wrapped in napkins out of her black belt satchel and tossed them on the table.

  “Hey, it wasn’t like I had to twist your arm,” I said, sliding into the booth. “We could have gone literally anywhere, and you wanted to come here.”

  “I know…” he sighed, looking at the ceiling. “You know, one day I’ll be able to talk to her.”

  “I should hope so.” Stacy smiled. “Anyway, Lisa will be with you shortly, but I can grab you a drink if you like. You want the usual?” She glanced over at me as Marty sat down in the booth across from me.

  “Sure,” I said before gesturing at my friend. “And whatever he wants too. Something tells me buying him a drink is the least I could do.”

  “It is the least you could do. You quit my job for me,” he said, barely looking at the menu for a second. “I’d ask what’s on tap, but…”

  “But you just want a vodka martini, shaken, not stirred.” Stacy shot him a grin. “I may have been born yesterday, but I’d have to be dumber than a box of rocks to forget your drink.” She stuck out her tongue. “Can’t stand the stuff myself. Give me a good gin and tonic, anytime.” She spun on her heel to make her way back to her station so she could put in our drink order.

  “I dunno what she’s talking about,” Marty said, fingering his menu. “I mean, James Bond drinks martinis, and he gets all the chicks.” He dropped his menu on the table. “That’s worth something.”

  “I guess,” I said, dropping my own menu. I didn’t even know why I was looking because I always got the same thing. A burger. I had no idea how Dewey did it back there, but the meat would literally melt in my mouth, and the bacon… OMG.

  “Look, I don’t want to argue about it,” Marty said, picking up his menu again and looking it over. “Maybe I’ll get a burger… That’s what you always get, right?”

  “You say that every damned time and you never get it because you don’t eat carbs.” I rubbed my face with my hand. “We both know you’re going to get the steak.”

  “I like the steak,” he countered, eyeing me over the top of the menu.

  “That’s fine, but I think the burger is starting to feel a bit led on,” I replied as Stacy appeared with our drinks. She set the martini in front of Marty before placing a tall house blonde in front of me. It had just the right amount of foam, and as I stared at the rivulets of condensation dripping down the frosty glass, I licked my lips.

  “Thanks,” Marty said, grabbing the olive from the top of his drink and tossing it in his mouth.

  “Remember that when you tip,” she replied, smiling brightly before returning to her station. “Then again, with Lisa waiting on you, I doubt I’ll have to worry.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Marty said to as he chewed thoughtfully on the olive.

  “That you’d give that girl anything she wanted for a quick look in your direction,” I said, raising my beer for a toast.

  “I want a lot more than a look,” he said as we clinked our drinks.

  I was going to respond, but Lisa took that moment to show up, and like usual she was wearing way more makeup than she needed. She took a quick look at us and pouted good-naturedly.

  “You two again.” As she spoke, Marty practically melted into a puddle. It wasn’t strange. It happened nearly every time. Normally he was a veritable ladies man, but when it came to Lisa, all bets were off.

  “Yep,” I said, glancing at my friend. Part of me wondered if he’d be able to speak, and as I had that thought, I decided to correct the issue for him.

  “I see you already have your drinks.” She smiled, her full lips parting to reveal a flash of white teeth.

  “Yeah, Stacy brought them,” I said, smiling at her as I pulled out my pad. “I’ll have the usual.”

  “Burger with bacon and a fried egg on top?” she asked, not bothering to write it down. “Side of onion rings?”

  “Yep.” She nodded and turned to Marty as I made my move.

  Make Marty able to talk to Lisa.

  The change was like fucking magic. In an instant, Marty threw his elbow on the table, leaning on it as his entire body relaxed.

  “And what would you like, Marty?” Lisa beamed, her thousand watt smile able to power, well, more like ten lightbulbs or something.

  “You,” he said, completely deadpan. For a moment it was quiet, and as my mouth fell open in abject horror, Lisa’s smile went fifty shades of nervous, and she fiddled with her hands.

  “Um… excuse me?” she said, taking a quick step backward.

  “Every day I come in here and sit in your section, and I think to myself, man, that is one great girl. Literally the best girl ever. She’s so smart, so talented. And then I wonder if I’m the only person who thinks it.” He shook his head. “I can’t be, can I? Surely everyone who sees you thinks you’re as amazing as I do.”

  “Um… well, I, erm,” Lisa spluttered, her cheeks flushing red.

  “Lisa, you seem flustered, and that’s the last thing I want,” Marty said, reaching out and taking her hand. “I just want you to be happy. Let me make it up to you.”

  “Make it up to me?” she said, eyes moving between her hand and Marty as she swallowed hard.

  “Let me take you out to dinner.” He smiled brightly. “When does your shift get off?”

  “Um… in about thirty minutes, but—”

  “That would be great
.” He looked over at me. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “No,” I said, practically in awe as Lisa nodded.

  “I don’t know if I should do that,” she said as Marty pulled her down until she was sitting in the booth beside him.

  “You owe it to yourself, really.” He patted her hand. “You deserve a good time. I just want to give you that.”

  “But I have a boyfriend,” she whispered, voice a barely audible squeak.

  “Look, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” Marty said, leaning a bit closer to her. “I just want you to have a good time. Surely that would be okay, right? After all, your boyfriend wants you to be happy, right?”

  “You don’t understand,” Lisa said, pulling her hand away. “He doesn’t even like me working here. There’s no way he would be okay with us going out, even as friends.” She shook her head, causing her dark locks to whips around her face.

  “It won’t be just us,” Marty said, recovering as he pointed at me. “Roger will be there too.”

  “I… just can’t, sorry.” She smiled as she slid from the booth. “I’ll bring your food, okay.” With that, she scurried away, but as she moved, I saw her glance back at us.

  “Well, I’m impressed,” I said, taking a sip of my beer. “You were on fire.”

  “No…” he muttered, turning in his seat so he could watch her go. “If I was on fire, she’d have gone out with me. Man, I just don’t know what it is about her…”

  “While I see the attraction because she has huge tits and is pretty, she wears way too much makeup.” I shrugged. Part of me felt bad about what had happened, but I wasn’t sure what to do. Sure, I could pen things up, but I didn’t want to do that. I’d given Marty his shot, which was more than he’d have had otherwise.

  Still, something about it bugged me a bit.

  As I thought about it, Marty turned back to me and looked down at his drink. “She never used to wear makeup at all before she started dating that ass clown…” He shook his head. “That’s a new thing.”