For I Could Lift My Finger and Black Out the Sun (22 page)

 

“John, I don’t wish to be someone
important
, even someone
great
, who is then forgotten as the creaking wheel of time turns around. Tulloch is no more relevant to the people who walk through this park than is the sidewalk, or that bench you sit upon. I wish for something much, much more, John.”

 

“What, then?” I asked.

 

Sol smiled. “I want to be
eternal
.”

13

Sol took a confident stride forward.

 

“Stop! Stop where you are!” I shouted.

 

“Enough of this triviality, John.” Sol spoke with zeal now. “The question now lies before you: Do you wish to be
nothing
? Or
immortal
? Between you, and me, and Bobby, we can
change things
. We won’t have to consider how we might offend those in power, we will
be
those in power.” He was much closer now; maybe 20 feet separated us. Yet I sat still on the bench, cellphone still tucked into my hoodie. I was unwilling to move.

 

“I’m just a kid,” I said into the phone. “Just a teenager. What would I do? How would I rule the world?”

 

“You’ve shown greatness already, John. You got here. Do you think any of your schoolmates could have managed that?” I’ll admit, I raised one eyebrow, mentally patting myself on the back. “And Bobby told me of the fight between you two. How you beat him. That…” Sol said, “…that
really
impressed me.”

 

Why?
I thought for a moment. Sol could destroy tanks. What did it matter that I had fought with Bobby, that we had both used our supernatural skills, and that I had won? It’s not like—

 

Hold on
.

 

I’d fought with Bobby, and won. Bobby and I were alike, as was Sol. Hell, Walter Ivory was like us, too. That meant, technically, that I had gone up against two people with these powers, and both times I’d won.

 

How many others like us had Sol faced?

 

I truly had no idea.

 

But I thought the answer might be
zero
.

 

“Are you saying you don’t
want
to be great? Don’t
want
people to remember you, John?”

 

“No, of course not. No one
wants
to be a nobody. There are things I want…”

 

“You can have them,” Sol said.

 

“But I just — I’m a kid,” I said again. “I’m not really sure of what I want. Yet.”

 

“And you shall have time to decide. With me. With Bobby. I can shelter you both. Give you the time you need to grow. And,” Sol said, a tinge of hunger in his voice, “I can
teach
you, John. What is it you do not know about these powers yet? Ask me. Let me help you.”

 

Sol reached out his free hand.

 

I thought of the pencil that I could barely move, the paper my mind had randomly crumpled into a ball and I couldn’t willingly undo. There truly
was
a lot I could learn. Sol
could
teach me.

 

But…

 

More than anything, a single thought crept into my mind, and wouldn’t leave.

 

If I knew more, if I was ready, I could stop living in secret
. I had no idea until that moment just how powerful my desire was, to stop lying to my mom, my friends, the world.

 

I was different now, and like it or not, that probably wasn’t going to change. I was sick and tired of concealing my powers behind a mask of normalcy.

 

I
wasn’t
normal.

 

Why should I hide what I could do? Why should I hide myself?

 

All the things I might be, all the things I might do, bubbled up in my mind, all the injustices reversed, the life of the unpopular forever changed into the life of the unforgettable.

 

Sol’s hand lingered, held out to me. My fingers twitched, wanting to reach out.

 

“Last chance, John. You know in your heart that it is right. Think of all that you can learn. More that that, John. Think of all that you can
be
.”

 

“You’ll teach me? And Bobby?”

 

“That is why I have called you to me, John, yes.”

 

“But why?”

 

“Because of the very thing you pointed out to me when I first approached you here in the park this morning,” Sol said, looking down for a moment. Whether he was pensive, contemplative, or just plain weary, I couldn’t tell. “Our abilities, while tremendous, seem to have a limitation. Specifically, a limitation of
distance
. Within a certain range, I can affect people’s minds, make objects do my bidding. But beyond that…” He wavered a hand, left and right.

 

“But you
called
me,” I said.

 

“Yes! John. Yes!
That
seems to work at incredible distances. One of us calling to another. But that is because we are the same. These…
others
…” Sol gestured contemptuously at the people in the park all around us. Almost every park bench was occupied, people eating from brown bags and reading paperback novels. A few of them here and there played chess. “We can affect normal people around us, but farther away, they disappear from our influence. As do objects.”

 

“What distance?” I asked. I was thoroughly engrossed in everything Sol had to say.

 

“It depends. At perhaps a few hundred feet, our direct influence seems to diminish.”

 

“Is it something that will change in time? Like, can we grow stronger? Expand the range?”

 

“A wonderful question, John! Wouldn’t
that
be something amazing for us to discover?
Together?
” Again, he stretched out his free hand. “Regardless, together, we could create a network of power that can overcome distance. Even if there was one of us every 100 miles, we could still rule these people. Rule the world.”

 

My hand started to raise. I
wanted
to reach out. I
wanted
to accept the offer, to become bigger than I had ever been.

 

Yet my body sat motionless on the park bench, still pressing the cellphone to one ear inside the hoodie.

 

“And, John. When it comes to ruling the world…” He broke into a broad smile. “You can
leave that to me
.”

 

Something about that stopped me. The arrogance. The hint of threat in his voice. My arm lowered. “No…,” I said.

 

Everything froze in time, even as too many things happened too quickly. Sol, furious, rushed forward, gesturing with his outstretched hand, and my body flew from the park bench and slammed into the statue’s pedestal. The bench itself then flipped upward, swooping toward me, clamping down on either side of my body, trapping me against the base of the statue. My hand dropped the cellphone to the ground as Sol stepped forward.

 

“Now it is time we talked face to face, John.” He nodded toward his cellphone and smiled. “And stop all this foolishness.” Reaching through the iron slats of the bench that now served quite effectively as the bars of a jail, Sol pulled the hoodie down to rest on my shoulders.

 

And the smile on his face fell away to surprise, anger, and disappointment.

 

Because that’s when he realized that I wasn’t me.

14

“What is this treachery?” Sol hissed, stepping back. In his hand, the cellphone dangled, nearly forgotten.

 

Here’s the thing: He never saw it coming. I was 14, and he was an adult. My mental powers could barely move a pencil, while his could blow up tanks. Sol had taken on an army, and while he didn’t defeat them exactly, he didn’t lose either. He had become infamous, and that rarest kind of celebrity, one who could literally go unnoticed if he wished (and rarer still, because he used his own special abilities to make that happen). Plus, being naturally good-looking and charismatic, he was used to things going his way.

 

All of that has to go to a person’s head, right? That’s what I figured.

 

Then, considering the almost unbearable, heart-pounding fear that I had developed for Sol, it made my answer clear: There was
no way
I was going to go sit on a park bench, waiting for him like a granny throwing breadcrumbs to the birds. Because this particular bird had razor-sharp fangs.

 

So I took a chance, betting on Sol’s ego. And it worked.

 

General Tulloch Park sat near the middle of the city, which meant it was almost entirely surrounded by tall buildings. Walking around that morning, comparing options, I saw that the first level of many of the nearby buildings housed shops selling electronics, handbags, clothing, your typical tourist crap. It took three or four stops, but I was able to find a pair of binoculars. And yes, I had to push the shop owner’s mind so I could take them without paying. I’m a terrible person. I know.

 

I’d chosen one of the shorter buildings just off the park as my target. It was six stories with a flat roof, the thinner side of the building facing the park and its wider side running down one of the streets radiating away. Making my way to the roof was no more difficult than getting a junior suite at the Lexington, thanks very much. Just had to do a little
pushing
. Once I stepped out onto the rooftop, I checked out the view. To me, it seemed pretty perfect. Near-complete sight lines on the park, plus the ability to see people coming in almost any direction.

 

I waited almost an hour, scouring the park with my binoculars, before I saw the kid. He was older than me by a couple years, I think, walking and talking on his cellphone, wearing a dark hoodie — was it black, dark grey, maybe a deep blue? Hard to tell from more than 150 feet away. I stopped thinking about it and decided it was black, because that would be perfect. I had a family name to represent, after all.

 

Reaching out with my mind, I found that it was a little tricky to cover the distance, but it worked. It just seemed
thinner
, like I was stretching against the edge of my sphere of influence. Anyway, the kid did as he was directed. He hung up the phone, walked to the park bench nearest the statue, sat down, and waited.

 

Not much later, I noticed Sol walking up from the left, and fear filled me. I was certain he was going to see through the trick right away, somehow catch me despite the fact that I was on a rooftop six stories up, and he was far below at street level. But he was so calm, so casual. He walked toward the statue like nothing was happening.

 

This was the trickiest part. I kept my binoculars focused on him until just that moment when he finally noticed “me” sitting on the bench. And I pushed his mind, just the littlest bit, terrified that he would notice even that gentle nudge. But he took the bait. “There’s John,” I made his mind tell him, which was really just what his mind was already telling itself. I just sort of
confirmed it
.

 

As Sol continued along, I made the kid in the hoodie raise his cellphone to one ear inside the hood, keeping his head down the whole time.

 

When I dialed his number, it was frightening and yet exhilarating. I watched Sol talk to “me” from afar, too nervous to poke much more than my eyes and the binoculars over the top of the roof’s short wall.

 

I knew it wouldn’t last forever. And it didn’t. Once Sol pulled down the kid’s hoodie, that was that. But I hadn’t really planned my exit strategy. Chalk it up to being 14.

 

Once Sol realized it wasn’t me, I figured it was time to get the heck out of Dodge, so I ran in a crouch across the wide, flat roof. The opposite side of the building seemed to be a safe distance, but I had no idea how long that would last.

 

I told myself I was a fool to do it, but I had to look. When I reached the far end of the roof, as far away from Sol as I could get, I leaned over the half wall once more and trained the binoculars toward the park. Sol was still standing there, over the dazed kid, as people around him gasped, some running for cover. He was slowly spinning, looking for me. I ducked as his eyes swept past, then came back up to watch him again.

 

“Let Bobby go, you bastard,” I said into the phone, still connected. I saw Sol’s head jerk down toward his hand. Then he raised the phone like it had suddenly become radioactive, putting it slowly to his ear.

 

“That was very deceptive, John,” he said in an icy tone. “I’m…
quite
impressed
. You’re even more clever than I gave you credit for.” He continued to spin, looking for me. By now, he was scanning rooftops, realizing how exposed his position was. “You
tricked me.
” He sounded shocked. I even felt ashamed for a moment, until I remembered he was a power-crazed murderer.

 

“I said, let Bobby go.”

 

 

Sol chuckled. Damn, I hated that cocky little laugh of his. “I assure you that I am not
holding
Bobby in any way,” he said. “In fact, he is not even in this city. By now, I suspect, Bobby is safely back in your own hometown.”

 

You call yourself Sol, but maybe you’re not as bright as you think, Jose do Branco.
I allowed myself a smug smile. If Bobby wasn’t under Sol’s control, there was nothing more for me to do. I started to back away from the edge without another word, ready to find my way home again.

 

I was lowering the phone, about to disconnect the call, when Sol spoke again. “I presume you can see me, correct, John?”

 

I stayed quiet.

 

“I shall assume the answer is yes. Which means that you can no doubt see what I am about to do.”

 

I crept back to the edge, finding him with the binoculars. Sol approached the kid — a kid I had randomly chosen to stand in harm’s way in my stead — and my stomach twisted. With the park bench still holding him in place like Dr. Frankenstein’s monster on an upraised lab table, the kid squirmed, unable to break free. Sol raised one hand and, above them, the statue of General Avery Tulloch began to shake.

 

“What’re you doing?” I said.

 

Small pieces of the statue began to crack and break free, falling on the kid in the dark hoodie. “I
need
you with me, John,” Sol said, his voice scarily calm. “Together, we would be a formidable team. If you won’t come to me of your own choice, I may have to… provide incentive.” One of the horse’s front hooves snapped off, landing inches in front of the kid with a loud
clack
. It probably wasn’t big enough to kill him, but would’ve hurt like hell if it had hit him in the head.

 

“Cut it out!”

 

“I will, John, if you do as I say.”

 

“Why me? Why’d you let Bobby go?” I found myself slowly standing, the tension rising inside me.

 

“Oh, no, John, no.” Again, that deep-throated laugh. “I didn’t say I let him go. I just said I
wasn’t holding him
.” Sol kept scanning the buildings, still trying to find me. “I know exactly where Bobby is and what he is doing.”

 

My head was too high, maybe the binoculars glinted in the sun, I don’t know.

 

Sol saw me. And he acted.

 

The park bench flew like tissue paper whipped into a hurricane. He sent it directly toward me.

 

Cat and mouse.

 

Or chess.

 

Either way, it was a game.

 

I could almost feel what his mind was thinking.
Can you stop it?

 

In the heartbeat of time I had, I knew the answer was no. I could barely move a pencil. There was no way I could stop a metal park bench that was flying through the sky in an arc with me at its endpoint.

 

So I dove away, and the bench slammed into the bricks atop the wall, cracking several free. They fell to the street below and I heard cries and shrieks — fear and alarm. People were definitely noticing.

 

The binoculars skittered away as I flopped to the flat roof. But I was unharmed. Slowly, I stood. The cellphone remained tightly clutched in one hand, so I lifted it again to my ear. I took a ragged breath, and another, willing my heart to slow down.

 

“You missed, asshole,” I said.

 

That damn laugh again. “John, John… there is no point in all of this.”

 

“Yeah? Then maybe stop trying to kill me.”

 

“I simply want you to join me, John. Me, you, Bobby. Using our powers. Connected together, almost like radio towers repeating a signal, broadcasting it farther than it ever might otherwise reach on its own.”

 

“But doesn’t that seem futile to you, Sol?”

 

“How so, John?” I could no longer see him, sprawled as I was on the rooftop. Was he getting closer, now that he knew where I was? I didn’t know, but my heart said yes. And my feet leaped up in answer, heading for the door.

 

As I hit the first flight of stairs, I struggled to control my breath, trying to conceal that I was running. “There’s just three of us. Even repeating one another, the signal won’t go that far.” I put one finger over the microphone as I huffed and ran down the stairs.

 

“Ah, but John. There aren’t just three of us. There are more.”

 

In shock, I hit the END button, disconnecting the call. Minutes later, I reached street level, stepping outside and folding into the pedestrian traffic. I figured there was a beacon in my head, one Sol could hear, just as there was one in his that I could hear. I told my mind to suppress it, and maybe it worked, because he didn’t follow me, at least that I’m aware of.

 

Back at the bus station, I found a bus heading home and slipped aboard. It was another local. That meant another slew of hours wasted, but at least I was getting away. Getting away from Sol. Going home.

 

Despite — or likely because of — the tremendous tension and fear, I wasn’t even aware I was falling asleep until the bus pulled up at the tiny covered bench that served as my town’s depot.

 

It was dark when I stepped off and turned toward home. Along the way, each shadow was Sol, ready to leap out at me. Or worse, Bobby. I had visions of my former bully and current best friend, the eager student, learning at the feet of a madman.

 

The front door of my house was locked, of course. I didn’t even have a key, so I had to knock. When Mom opened it, she started to say something, express great concern or relief. But I didn’t let her. A little push reminded her of my trip to Aunt Cindy’s house, made her remember that all was well. It was normal for me to show up in the dark, normal to have been gone overnight. Reaffirm the push I had given her mind before I left that everything was fine.

 

“Hi, honey,” was all Mom said, making way for me to come in the door. Seeing the TV on in the living room, I walked over and collapsed on the couch.

 

Moms being moms, she assumed I was hungry. She was right. I gobbled down the grilled cheese she gave me, even doing a good number on the side of broccoli, although it was generally known that I hated the stuff. Then I asked for, and got, a second sandwich.

 

Holly sat beside the couch. I felt her stare. I expected it. I’d made no effort to push her mind, to excuse my long absence. She didn’t speak, but I knew she knew. Was she staring in concern? In anger? I didn’t know, so I didn’t look at her.

 

I felt a deep guilt, having lied to my mother and essentially ignored my sister. I had acted the stowaway on two bus rides, stolen a cellphone, freeloaded a hotel room and food, taken binoculars. Worse than any of that, I’d put that hoodie kid in a situation in which he could’ve been killed.

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