Continued from Part One.
“You are the future of humanity, that’s all I know for certain,” Flip stated solemnly.
“That seems a bit intense. What if I’m a fluke?” I replied.
“The more exciting thought is: what if you’re one in a million? That means there’s thousands more like you.”
“That is a pretty exciting thought.”
“Think about it, what if there’s thousands of people out there with the same, or similar, abilities. Superpowers. We’re talking about fucking superpowers.”
We were walking back to the restaurant and to Flip’s car. I was wishing that I was hovering, but I had to keep this a secret.
“You’ve changed my entire worldview in the period of 45 minutes, dude. Imagine how you can change the world. Just the fact that you can do this would likely advance scientific understanding by thousands of years.”
“Maybe.” I replied
We arrived back at the restaurant. Flip pulled out his car keys. He twirled them in his hands, “Man, I wish I didn’t have to work right now.”
Flip got into his car, turned the key and drove away to stock peas and corn at the local grocer. Meanwhile, it was time for me to fly home. I was in plain sight of a dozen windows, so I walked to a nearby alley. I glanced around, then looked up. With a single thought, I was soaring through the atmosphere.
The feeling of flight was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I could go as fast as I could handle, so I pushed it. The air resistance against my face was intense, but bearable. I kept an eye out for birds, drones and airplanes. I learned during my first flight that I should stay below a certain altitude. There was a sweet spot where I couldn’t be seen from the ground and I wasn’t in danger of hitting a plane. That’s where I liked to soar.
I landed on my patio with a thud; I was still getting the hang of touching down. I unlocked my sliding glass door with a wave of the hand and stepped inside. It was interesting, even though my psychokinesis was all mental, I still liked to move my body with my commands. Old habits I guess.
My place was a mess. I had been preoccupied with exploring my newfound abilities and not so much on cleaning. Although, I could use psychokinesis to clean. With a series of directed thoughts, I simultaneously instructed the dishes to do themselves, folded the laundry and picked up the trash on the floor. All while I stood in the middle of my apartment with my arms folded. Now this is the life!
Flip had a good point. I could use these abilities in any number of different ways. I could buy a police scanner and fight crime. I’d find out if I can stop bullets pretty quickly. I could approach The Resistance and work with them. Or I could look for others like myself. Of course, I still had to pay my bills. Unless I robbed a bank or armored car…
No! I can’t become a criminal. Although, what about chaotic good? I could follow my own sense of morals. My own sense of what’s right and what’s wrong.
Yes, maybe that’s the way to go: create my own path. If I join up with The Resistance I’ll have to match their ideology, which I don’t necessarily agree with entirely. I can become a force for chaotic good in this world!
What if there are others out there like me, though? Maybe with the same abilities, maybe with different ones. How would I find them?
I could go public as, well, a superhero. Get a disguise, start fighting crime, as defined by me, and see who comes out to greet me. Or fight me.
I’ll need to sleep on this.
A loud banging woke me up well before my alarm clock. It was somebody knocking at the door. I walked to the door and asked, “who is this?”
“It’s the police, open up!”
What the hell? I obliged and opened the door. Why don’t I have a peephole?
It was Flip. He laughed and said, “I bet that gave you a scare!” He pushed his way past me and walked in.
“Look, this is going to come off as a bit aggressive, but…”
Suddenly, Flip pulled out a gun that was tucked into his pants.
“We have to know,” he said seriously.
“Flip, calm down. What if I can’t? Are you going to kill me to find out?”
“Well, I mean, I’ll aim at your leg!” He was getting a little nervous.
“Are you aware that I could crumple your gun right now and turn it into a perfectly shape cube? I could also spin the gun around on you and pull the trigger. I don’t have to be able to stop bullets mid flight.”
“What if someone surprises you? What if you’re facing an army? We need to test your powers.” Flip was pointing the gun at my right leg and a bead of sweat ran down the left side of his face.
“Alright, fine. Pull the trigger.”
He started shaking and sweating even more.
“See, you don’t want to shoot me. Why don’t you shoot the couch and I’ll try to protect the couch?”
He sighed and said, “Why didn’t I think of that?” He shifted his aim to the couch and was noticeably calmer. “I’m not going to give you a countdown or anything.”
“You do realize we’re in the middle of an apartment complex right now, right? If you pull that trigger we’re going to have to deal with the cops. ‘Testing psychokinetic abilities’ probably won’t go over very well. Why don’t we run this test another time?” I hoped my attempt to de-escalate the situation enjoyed further success.
“Okay. Fine. Fine.” He shook his head and tucked the gun back in his waistband. “I just want to know…”
“I know, Flip, I want to know, too. But now is not the time.”
“I’m…I’m sorry. I don’t want to kill you or anything.” He said sheepishly.
“You’ve been at work for 12 hours and I’m sure you’ve had racing thoughts the entire time. I’m surprised you even went into work, to be honest.”
I went opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine. “Would you like a glass?”
He was clearly coming down from an adrenaline rush of almost shooting his best friend. I decided not to show off and used my hands to pour the glasses of wine. I handed him a glass.
Flip reached for the glass and took a big swig, then said, “So, what are you going to do?”
I smiled. I suddenly knew which path to pursue.
“I’m going to create chaos.”