Fook

by Brian Drinkwater

  With each landed blow, Derek could feel things turning in his favor, right up to the moment that a violin exploded against his right temple, dropping him to the floor beside Jason who remained motionless for a moment, stunned by the beating he’d just received before finally getting to his feet and tossing the remains of the string instrument’s handle to the floor.

  “Fuck! You hit hard,” Jason laughed, wiping at his bloodied nose with the back of his hand as he yanked the gun from Derek’s waistband and standing over his friend, firing two shots into his chest.

  “No!” Sarah screamed.

  Sensing Sarah’s closing distance, “Ah, ah, ah,” he raised the gun in her direction as Derek struggled to get to his feet.

  “Really, Jason turned to see his friend on one knee. Firing off another shot, Derek dropped.

  Wanting to run to his aid, but blocked by the man between them, Sarah just watched as Derek gasped, then fell motionless.

  Staring at his fallen friend, “You know, I’m recalling a certain promise I made,” Jason turned back to Sarah, wrapping his gun holding arm around her as he drew his knife and placed it against her chest. “Do you know what it was?”

  Closing her eyes, anticipating her end, she didn’t know what else to do but weep.

  “There, there,” He mocked. “It’s not that bad. It will be quick, well…maybe not. You’ll probably survive the cutting…and maybe the rib cracking.”

  Sarah wept harder.

  “It is a shame though, I really did want him to see me tear that precious little heart from your chest.” Glancing over her shoulder, “then again,” he added, looking down her shirt. “It would be a shame to let such perfection go to waste. After all, who’s going to take care of you now? Daddy’s gone. Sis is gone. Even your precious boyfriend didn’t make it.”

  Opening her eyes again, she hoped to see some sort of movement from Derek, but he remained on the floor just as still as he had been.

  “Hell, I guess I’m about all you have left,” Jason continued. “Maybe you and I could have a future together. What-a-ya think?”

  Sarah didn’t answer as she continued to stare through her tears at Derek.

  “Alright, I realize that it might not be easy at first but I think, with some time, you could begin to feel differently. I really can be a likable guy.”

  Still she said nothing.

  “Argh,” Derek started to moan.

  “Derek!”

  “Mother...,” Jason raised the gun and fired the last two rounds.

  Seeing Derek’s body jump and then fall still again with the fourth and fifth shots, Sarah screamed, just as a tingling sensation began to spread across her skin and Jason, closing his eyes, uttered “Hang on.”

  FIFTY

  As the brilliant flash of light faded, the room slowly came back into focus, only it wasn't the same room. The instruments were gone, replaced by a roaring fire in a large brick fireplace and a portrait of some elderly, Asian woman hanging above it. Beside the fireplace was an armchair…a very familiar armchair actually.

  “That’s impossible,” Sarah whispered, though she shouldn’t have been surprised by anything given the unbelievable events of the last couple of days.

  Confirming her suspicions, she turned her head to the left, spotting the expected desk in the far corner of the room. It was the same desk on which Derek had found the letter about newly born Jason. Instead of the pile of papers and books that had been on it earlier that day, there now stood a large electronic device that resembled a television, though she’d never seen a T.V. quite that large nor with such oddly flat dimensions.

  “Some rush, huh?”

  Sarah spun around to find Jason standing right behind her.

  Anticipating her scream, Jason slapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Not that anyone can hear you. I just hate that sound.”

  Sarah redirected the expression of fear to her eyes instead.

  “You’re a smart girl,” Jason lowered his hand. “Do you know where you are?”

  “Mr. Fook’s house,” Sarah answered.

  “Technically the house belonged to my great grandmother, Ushi Fook” Jason motioned to the woman in the large portrait. “The man you’re referring to was her brother, Jian, which is a bit ironic if you ask me because I can’t remember a day of his life that he wasn’t sick,” Jason chuckled.

  Sarah just stared at him.

  “Healthy. His name meant healthy,” Jason clarified, annoyed that he had to explain his humor. “He died when I was young so I never really got a chance to know him anyway. My great grandmother however, I knew her very—“

  “—You don’t know do you?” Sarah asked.

  “Know what?” Jason paused, confused.

  “What made him sick,” she clarified.

  Jason just stared at her, not sure what she was talking about.

  With a smile, “Keep this up and you’ll find out eventually,” she wiped away her tears.

  “Keep what up? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The jumping,” a third voice chimed in from the other side of the room to Jason’s back.

  Grabbing hold of Sarah, Jason spun around as he brought the knife to her throat.

  She’d spotted the man, standing in the corner, as soon as she’d turned around to face Jason. Though she hadn’t been able to see his face, she knew who it was.

  “Jian and I had the same conversation,” the voice continued as Derek stepped out of the shadowy corner of the room, though it wasn’t the same Derek that either of them remembered. Though the years had been kind to him, the lines in his face, coupled with the smattering of grey in his beard, told Sarah that some time had passed.

  “What the fuck? Don’t you die?” Jason asked in frustration.

  “Bulletproof vest,” Derek answered. “Maybe you should've shot me in the face.”

  “Good idea,” Jason responded, raising the gun one more time and attempted to pull the trigger before noticing the slide locked in the empty position. “Shit,” he tossed the gun to the floor, raising the knife to Sarah’s throat instead.

  “It’s going to kill you,” Derek continued as he slowly inched forward, causing Jason to slide toward the large, open doorway leading to the foyer.

  “What is? You?” Jason laughed.

  “The jumping,” Sarah added.

  Jason shot her a look of confusion.

  “Jian had a brain tumor, not to mention he was senile as fuck,” Jason continued his retreat.

  “And what do you think gave him that tumor?” Derek continued toward them.

  “Stay back,” Jason grabbed hold of Sarah’s hair, further exposing her neck as he pressed the blade to her flesh.

  “Jason, put down the knife. It’s over,” Derek stopped his advance.

  “Over,” Jason laughed. “Are you fucking blind. Who’s got the knife? You know, I was a bit disappointed when I thought I’d killed you. I really did want you to watch her die, and as luck would have it, I'll still get my wish.”

  “I’m not going to let you do that, Jason.”

  “Really? And how are you planning to stop me?”

  “I’m not.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Jason laughed.

  “He is,” Derek motioned behind them.

  Turning, Jason caught a glimpse of a younger Derek, just as the baseball bat struck his skull.

  *****

  “Jason. Wake up. How hard did you hit him?” Jason could hear a male voice ask, though he felt too weak to open his eyes.

  “I don’t know,” a second male voice answered. “Hard enough.”

  “Guys, I think he’s coming to,” Sarah interrupted.

  “Arghh,” Jason moaned.

  “Jason,” Derek leaned in close, separating one of Jason’s eyelids with his fingers.

  “His pupils are dilating,” Sarah added. “That’s good.”

  “Jason, wake up,” Derek slapped the semiconscious man.

  The impact of
the hand sent a wave of pain through his already throbbing head. “Ah!” he cried, finally managing to open his eyes, though it took a moment for the room and the three figures standing in front of him to stop spinning.

  “Is it working?” the younger version of Derek asked as Sarah grabbed Jason’s bound wrist, checking for a pulse.

  “His pulse is slow but strong. It’s wearing off. We need to do this quick before he regains the ability to jump,” Sarah answered.

  “Do what?” Jason asked, finally regaining his sight and realizing that they’d tied and duct taped him to a folding metal chair. “What did you do to me? Who the—“, Jason looked back and forth at the young and old versions of his friend.

  “Drake,” the younger version of Derek introduced himself with a nod.

  “Drake?” Jason asked confused.

  “Yeah, my parents thought it would be odd to name their newborn son after the twenty two year old version of himself,” old Derek attempted to clarify, though based on the look on Jason's face, a more elaborate explanation was needed. “Once I came to and realized that you’d taken Sarah, I tried to figure out how I was going to get her back. It didn’t take me long to realize my only option. I didn’t have the ability to snap my fingers and follow you. I had to do it the old fashion way and wait. During that time I managed to convince my parents who I was.”

  Jason shot him a dismissive look.

  “I was just as surprised as you. They really are an understanding couple. A few 'impossible to know family secrets' and I had them questioning, but it wasn’t until that first look into their newborn’s eyes…,” Derek motioned to Drake “…that I finally had them sold.”

  “Fine. Now there are two of you to kill,” Jason either accepted what he was being told or didn’t really care as he closed his eyes, but after a few seconds, opened them again, confused by his continued captivity.

  “That’s not going to work right now,” Derek added.

  “What did you do?” Jason panicked, closing his eyes again.

  “Oh...we just shot you up with a little something to thin your blood and slow you heart rate,” Sarah smiled.

  “We had a lot of time to think this through."

  “Without proper blood flow, your brain lacks sufficient oxygen,” Drake explained.

  “You see, I developed this theory that your ability doesn’t just stem from the genetic mutation in your blood. It also requires a strong mind to process the vast amount of data necessary for such a reaction,” Derek continued. “My guess is that this is why not everyone in your family could do it.”

  “It’s only the males and every other generation,” Jason dismissed the insulting allusion. “My grandmother was a brilliant woman.”

  “Insanity doesn’t denote brilliance,” Drake mocked.

  “Though in your case, I guess they just might go hand in hand,” Derek added.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Guys, we’re running out of time,” Sarah interjected, holding Jason’s wrist again.

  “Don’t touch me, bitch.”

  Kneeling down beside Jason, Derek picked up the open briefcase and placed it on Jason’s lap.

  “I destroyed that,” Jason looked down at the device in disbelief.

  “I’m sure you did,” Derek replied as he punched away at a cell phone in his hand, the device responding with a beep, followed by a low hum. “I built another one.”

  “Fine, send me wherever you want. As soon as this shit wears off I’ll be right back here slitting your fucking throats or maybe I’ll just wait a while; keep you looking over your shoulders for the rest of your lives. There’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’m invincible and you know it, so go ahead. Hit the button. Nothing’s gonna change what I’ve already done nor will it stop what I’m going to do. You’re all gonna die like that little slut's father and sister.

  “You want the honors,” Derek turned to Sarah, holding out the phone.

  “Gladly,” Sarah took the phone, turning back to Jason, “This is for my family, asshole.”

  As she touched the screen, the device began to hum louder as a static charge built in the air around them, and soft crackling gave way to much louder snaps. Then, with a burst of light, the briefcase, Jason, and the chair on which he sat, were gone.

  With a sigh of relief, Sarah placed the phone on the table and turned to face Derek and the much younger version she’d grown accustom to. Though separated by a twenty-five year age difference, they were both familiar. Sure, Drake was the spot on, visual match to what...up until half an hour ago...were her only memories of Derek but it was in their eyes where the two diverged. Though very much the same, they'd both lived completely different lives, and in that moment it was perfectly clear how she felt as she ran into Derek’s arms, and placing her hand to his older, hairier face, she looked into those familiar eyes as their lips joined.

  “What if he does come back?” Sarah suddenly interrupted their embrace.

  Looking at his younger counterpart, “I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

  “Quivering jello,” Drake smiled.

  “What does—?” Sarah started to question before Derek cut her off with another, even more passionate kiss.

  FIFTY-ONE

  “Isn’t he beautiful?” Jennifer’s eyes glistened at the sight of little Oliver through the nursery window.

  “Do all hospitals use the same blanket manufacturer?” Bill stared at this new born son, his mind obviously in a completely different place than his wife’s.

  “What?”

  “The blankets they’re all wrapped in,” he motioned to the room full of infants. “They’re all the same; a white blanket with a blue stripe.”

  Jennifer just stared at her husband. She knew he was apprehensive about being a father for the first time. Throughout the adoption process he’d shown signs of hesitation, but this was the worst yet. The day was finally here, and instead of staring lovingly at their new son, he was more concerned with the sales statistics of a blanket manufacturer.

  “I’m only bringing it up because I’m pretty sure the same blanket is in my baby pictures and I’m willing to bet that every television show and movie I’ve ever seen used the same blankets as well.”

  “Bill.“

  “Don’t you find that pretty amazing?”

  “Bill.”

  “I mean, there have to be other companies that produce them. Or maybe there’s some national design standard that every company has agreed on.”

  “Bill!”

  Acknowledging his rambling, Bill stopped talking.

  “I know you’re nervous,” Jennifer comforted her husband, wrapping her arms around him and looking up into his eyes. “I’m nervous too, but everything is going to be alright. In a couple of days you, me and Oliver are going to be home and we’re going to be the happiest family ever. There's nothing that can come between us and there’s absolutely nothing for you to worry about. You’re going to be a great father. Now, shut up and enjoy the moment.”

  Smiling, he knew she was right, so taking her advice, he turned his scrutinizing attention away from the identical blankets and focused on his sleeping son.

  “Isn’t he precious?”

  Turning, Bill and Jennifer spotted Mrs. Brown standing in the doorway of the hospital room across the hall.

  “Breathtaking,” Jennifer replied. “Again, I can’t thank you enough for choosing us.”

  “I can’t take the credit. Tiffany had the final decision,” Mrs. Brown joined them at the window. “She may not have been thinking when she got herself into this situation, but she really is a smart kid. Besides, I would have chosen you guys anyway. We just want the best for the baby, and I…we think you two will be perfect parents.”

  “Remember, we want you guys involved as much as you feel comfortable,” Bill reminded the would be grandmother. “We consider you both as much a part of our family as Oliver.”

  “I appreciate that. We both do.”

  “Mom.”r />
  “What are you doing out of bed?” Tiffany’s mother turned to see her daughter standing in the hospital room doorway.

  “I needed to use the bathroom,” Tiffany leaned against the doorframe, obviously still uncomfortable and a bit groggy from delivering the night before.

  “Okay, I’m coming. Excuse me,” Mrs. Brown excused herself from the Nesbits.

  “Of course,” Jennifer motioned her toward her daughter.

  “I want to see him,” Tiffany stepped into the hall wincing in pain as she grabbed the doorframe, her mother rushing to her side.

  “You need to lie down,” her mother grabbed her other arm as a nurse also rushed to her side.

  “You shouldn’t be moving around yet,” the nurse scolded the teenage girl.

  “I want to see him,” she insisted.

  “Sweetheart, are you sure about that? Didn’t we talk about giving it some time before—“

  “—I know what we agreed. I changed my mind.”

  Jennifer’s eyes widened in fear as she squeezed Bill’s arm.

  “Not about that,” the girl addressed the Nesbits, realizing how her comment could have been taken. “You two are perfect. I’m still going to sign the papers. I just want to see him. They took him away so fast last night that I didn’t even get to hold him. I just want to see him through the glass.”

  Exchanging looks, Mrs. Brown nodded her approval to the nurse who turned to retrieve a wheelchair from the nurse’s station. With her mother’s assistance, Tiffany carefully lowered herself onto the doughnut shaped pillow, placed on the chair by the nurse, before being wheeled alongside the Nesbits.

  “Isn’t he perfect?” Jennifer commented to the young girl, whose eyes began to well up at the sight of her son.

  With a nod, Mrs. Brown signaled for the nurse to retrieve little Oliver so that they could get a better look at him through the glass. Agreeing, the nurse disappeared around the corner.