King Chronicles Episode Two

              Episode II PART I
    


    Another day, another pop quiz. Mr. Kostova enjoys his little torture sessions on his class. He likes to quiz us this early in the morning for some strange reason. He is my second period class.
    “Good morning! So good to see so many bright eyed pupils eager for yet another day in the grand halls of scholastic education,” he greeted as he walked into the class.
    None of us were either bright eyed nor eager. With the exception of David Goodman perhaps, he’s my best friend. The rest of the class looked semi-catatonic, this not being the most interesting class for most of the students in it, but, hey, english is a required class.
    “To start off such a delightful morning, pop quiz! Pencils and paper ready,” Mr. Kostova waited for all the rustling of papers and folders to die down before he rolled up the US map and proudly called, “You have ten minutes, go!”
    Amid the groans, everyone started to scribble the answers to the sadistically chosen fifteen questions as fast as their hands could go. The quiz was a review of the story To Kill A Mockingbird. I was enjoying the story, but that wasn’t the common consensus. David liked it too, we were going to watch the movie as soon as we finished the book. We were the first ones to turn our pages over and wait for Mr. Kostova.
    When his ten minutes of torture were over, Mr. Kostova said, “Pencils down and please pass the papers forward, kiddies.”
    I hated that term and silently cursed him for it. Mr. Kostova was about 5’5” with curly brown hair and a bushy mustache, he always wore a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up loosely around his elbows and khakis. At forty, he was still rather handsome, but he wasn’t quiet the “cool one”. Every school has one of those at least, the cool one. Mr. Kostova was close, but not quiet there.
    Lost in my own thoughts of recent events, I nearly missed the bell. It startled me back to the present and I grabbed my junk, leaving Mr. Kostova for another day. I went to my locker to get the book for my next class, algebra. David ws waiting for me next to my locker.
    “Alexis, want to practice after school?” he asked.
    “Sure, same place, say around three?”
    He nodded his agreement and walked with me to algebra. His wavy brown hair and gentle grey eyes are always a welcome sight. As is the interesting fashion sense he carries. Levi jeans with holes and small burns from his experiments, along with the t shirts that have little sayings on them, like “Bill Gates Was A Geek Too!” By far, David is my best friend.
    You see, in this school, I am a “dangerous” person to know. This high school is full of preps, jocks, cheerleaders, and geek or nerd types. Sure, there’s the occasional Bohemian goddess or hippy who keep the Save Our Planet Coalition alive and well. The bathrooms and parking lot have the crack heads and stoners as long time residents.
    I am the basic rebel without a clue. I dress in dark clothes and dye my hair odd shades that occur naturally, just on flowers not people. My jeans are torn, my shirts promote music and anarchy. Despite the fact that I am your typical punk, I do have a special gift of sorts. I use it to help people when I can and to torment the cheer captain, Lisa, when I can’t. I was thinking about making her over mix chemicals n science class later, just for my own entertainment.

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                         PART II

    The tall, abandoned apartment. The one that the squatters had long since started using it for a place to get in out of the cold and rain. They used the first floor just in case the cops showed up, they could run for one of the many exits and book it to the streets and allies. The bad off crack heads thought, in their flying state, that the third floor was a better idea. the cops wouldn’t go up there, or so they thought. They figured the cops were more interested in the squatters on the first floor than the addicts on the third. The didn’t think the police would search any farther.
    Using the fire escape to avoid the hazards of the inside, I met David o the sixth floor, penthouse. Only the best. The whole space was devoid of everything except the support pillars and a bit of equipment we hauled in under cover of night. That venture took some doing, let me tell you. Anyway, it was time for practice.
    “You’re early,” David greeted me with a smile as I slid in the window and off the sill.
    “Likewise. Do I smell your mom’s cookies?”
    “Yeah, want one?”
    “Of course,” I answered as he pulled a large Zip-Lock bag from his pack. He opened it and I pulled one out using my power.
    “Alexis, I wish you wouldn’t do that. Warn me first, or something.”
    “Why? That takes all the fun out by using my hands. My gift is more fun,” I said with a grin.
    He sighed heavily, ”Practice is practice, I suppose. Alright, let’s start with the Juggle,” and he proceeded to throw three of four objects at me. I stretched out my hand, focused on them and stopped them midair and started to make them spin an a juggler’s fashion. I kept this up for a few minutes as David added more objects and would request certain ones back.
    “Send me the book,” he’d say, or something like that.
    “Good,” he praised,”Ready for something new?”
    “Sure, lay it on me, Dave.”
    A silver streak came flying in my direction. On instinct or impulse, I’m not sure which, I moved one of the objects, an apple, in front of the blade, stopping it midway between David nd myself.
The apple fell to the floor and the other objects stopped where they were in the air.
    “Wow! Impressive!!” David said.
    “A knife! What is wrong with you? You want to kill me?!” I yelled, “that was a knife!”
    “Yes, it was,” he confirmed, “but if you want to do this, Al, then you’ll have to get used to the bad guy throwing sharp things at you. Bullets, knives, anything and everything.”
    “But that was a knife,” I said, still in a state of semi-shock.
    “You asked me to help you in this, remember that,” he defended.
    “I know, you just surprised me,” I paused. “Okay, toss another cookie. White chocolate and macadamias are my favourite.”
    He obliged me with a smile and one of his mom’s great cookies.
    We continued till past dark. Things thrown, things blocked. Some gymnastics, which were needed in case I didn’t have enough time to use my power to defend myself, I could just flip out of the way or dodge out of danger. Using every part of my environment for offense and defense. David liked the gymnastics part, he was rather good. An athletic geek, think of it.

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                            PART III                              

    When eight o’clock rolled around, we parted ways and headed home for he night. David asked if we were still on for dinner tomorrow. Of course, Friday, start of Sabbath and good food. Every Friday, Mr. and Mrs. Goodman asked me for dinner. Every Friday, I accepted. It was my one guaranteed good meal for the week. The rest of the time, I cooked for myself or nuked something. Radiation and junk food, there’s a combination.
    Mr. and Mrs. Goodman are like the parents I never had. Mrs. Goodman didn’t like my sense of style with all the punker plaid, black hair with purple streaks, and black nail polish. My clothes often had chains somewhere or patches and holes. So out of respect, I tries to tone it down on Fridays, especially since they have started to try and get me to go to the Synagog with them. My normal attire would not looked upon very well if I decided to go. Thankfully, the Goodman’s don’t press the subject, but leave it as an open invitation if ever I choose to go along.
    Mr. G likes to know that I’m learning in class, so he looks over my homework along with David’s. He’s noticed that my chemistry could use a little extra attention so he has enlisted David to be my tutor. As a result of his caring and David’s patience, I have brought the grade from a C- to B+, I’m totally okay with that. The entire family go so far out of their way to help out a low down punk like me, and I just don’t think that I’m worth the effort. I’m sure the Goodman family see something in me that’s worthwhile, I just don’t know what that is, but then I am also in no position to argue nor deny their kindness.
    So on this Friday night, just before dinner, David asked me to follow him down to the basement.
    “We’ll have about an hour before dinner. Dad can check our homework,” he rolled his eyes, ”and we can... experiment.”
    David’s basement is his laboratory. He’s always has something going, some experiment or project. A germ culture, a robot or other mechanical wonder in the works, parts everywhere, computer programs, anything. We also used the basement to practice and see how far I could push my strange power. I could do many things, but I lacked a vital skill. I lacked control.
    “Be careful down here, I was working on a sulfur experiment and may have spilled some.”
    I took note of his Bunsen burner, it was lit. For those that don’t know, open flames and sulfur do not mix. I had guessed correctly that David wanted me to practice my control. What better initiative than not blowing up the basement?I could move almost any object, but controlling how and where to place it was difficult. What good was pulling a person out of the path of a speeding bus if I couldn’t put them safely on the ground again? This was my problem, control. I had to get that in check.
    “...responsibility. Like Spiderman,” David smiled.
    “What? What did you say?” I hadn’t been listening and he’d pulled me away from my thoughts.
    “I said, ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ Those that have th ability to change things for the better, have the responsibility to follow through. Like I’ve said before, you have to gain better control. You see, my telekinetic friend, you have chosen a bit of a lonely path and one that people, mostly the press and the police, will use to destroy you,” David’s voice was quiet, the same voice that he used when he was thinking on something profound, almost a shy tone. He lowered his curly head.
    “Dave, you alright?” I asked.
    He sighed, “Yeah, I just wish I could do what you have the potential to do. I want to be able to help my city. It’s falling into apathy and dying from it. I want to help somehow.”
    What he didn’t realize! I laughed a little and earned a quizzical look from the scientist.
    “Oh, David! From this ‘path; I’ve chosen, you are helping. Don’t you see? I simply do not have the patience for self-control. I get irritated and frustrated too fast. Without you, I can’t do anything. Besides,with your access to the internet, you can find out what stories are getting printed about me. What gossip is going around on Court Hill.” Court Hill being where the police station and court house sat.
    “You are my ground. I can’t trust anyone with a secret this big.”
    “Oh, boy. I get to be the faithful sidekick,” he said with a very sarcastic tone.
    He sat in a swivel chair, turned it to face his work table, and started to work on a contraption that was in pieces. He knew where every screw went, but I was lost in the gears.
    I knew what David meant. He wanted to help this city, the police couldn’t keep up with all the crime and poverty anymore. They needed a few good citizens to offer a helping hand, though of course, they’d never admit this. Both David and myself were tired of seeing so many awful things, we wanted to change it for the better. I was racking my brain to come up with a way David could feel more useful, something that would show him he is needed and is being of service to his community. I wanted to show him that he was important, noble. That was when Mrs. Goodman told us dinner was ready.

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                            PART IV

    Glossy, shining, clean. The rain makes everything clean at this distance. High above the streets, where nothing can be seen except by those that know where to look. Everything is better seen from above. From up high, most people didn’t see the filth that clogged the allies just below them. The crimes that went hidden from eyes too unwilling to notice. The rapes, the beatings, the gang wars, the drug dealers and addicts, the pimps and johns, the prostitutes, the murders and all other seedy activities they willfully turned a blind eye to started from the dark shadows the allies provided.
    I sat on one of my many perches that was throughout the city. It was up high enough to not be seen, yet close enough to the ground that I knew what was going on. I didn’t mind the fact that it was raining and I had no umbrella. I liked the rain, it felt good, cleansing. Between the thunder, I heard a sound that was all too common these days. A woman was screaming. The panic was coming from the north side of the building I was perched on.
    “Those that can act, must.”                                   
    I ran to the northern face of the building. It was dark, my path illuminated only by the random flashes of the night’s lightning. I got to the edge fast, too fast, I nearly pitched myself over the ledge. I stopped and looked over the side, to get a better perspective on the whole thing. I wanted to know why the woman screamed, if indeed that’s hat I heard.
    In the flashes from above, I was able to make out a woman in a business suit and a man in a leather jacket. He was yelling at her and holding her roughly by the arm. I couldn’t hear quite what he was saying so I made the decision to get closer. Using the fire escape, I started toward the ground and the commotion. It was slippery due to the still falling rain, which making it difficult to be silent.
    He was yelling again, no one heard him, and if they did they simply ignored it and closed the window. No one wanted to get involved in a domestic affair. His voice certainly carried, he was shouting at her for dumping him. I paused half way between the second and first story, about fifteen feet off the ground, and watched him. He did exactly what I expected him to do. He reared back his large hand and smacked her hard across the face.
    “Do one breaks up with me!” he hissed through gritted teeth.
    “If you love me like you say, why are you hurting me?” she asked feebly.
    “You will mine and mine alone!”
    He shook her again and she begged him to stop, that she was sorry. Her eyes were begging him through the tears and rain to stop and leave her alone. She kept pulling at his vice like fingers, trying to get away from him, she was struggling to be free of him. He slapped her again and I had seen enough.
    I got to the outside of the fire escape and gauged the distance to the ground. When I saw the next flash of lightning, I jumped so the thinned would drown out my feet hitting the pavement. I slipped quickly into the shadows and got ready for my approach.
    “Hold back! Hit her again and you’ll regret it,” I said from the shadows as he pulled his hand back again.
    He turned to face the shadow I was hiding in, “Who’s there?” he asked, squinting into the darkness.
    “Just ‘Nobody’. Now let her go,” I said stepping out of the darkness into the pale light of the alley.
    “Ha! Go home little girl, this doesn’t concern you.”
    “Let her go,” I ordered. Though I sounded like a tough guy, I was scared out of my wits. I had never faced up to a guy this bad before. The dumbest bullies and tough guys in my class had nothing on this jerk.
    “Go home, little girl. This is none of your business,” he repeated with a ruthless tone.
    I shook my head, about to order him again when he hit the lady. I had had enough of him.
    Using my gift of telepathy, I picked him up. In doing so, I picked up the woman too, though not the way I would have wanted to. The guy in leather hadn’t let go of her arm yet. When he did, she fell six feet to the hard, dirty ground below. She quickly scurried between a Dumpster and the wall. That was when I flung his sorry self into the wall opposite the woman and her hiding place. I let the jerk fall to the unceremoniously to the unforgiving ground below.
    I turned my attention to the woman, but only briefly, as the ex-boyfriend had recovered faster than I thought.
    “Look out!!” the woman screamed.
    I ducked and turned on my heel fast to see the guy holding a three foot section of steel pipe and start coming toward me, swinging like a madman.
    “Don’t do it, Slugger Trust me, I’ll give you--- WOAH!!”
    He swung at me anyway, I fell backwards on my butt to avoid the pain of the metal on my head. He was coming at me again and I had to think fast. There was a brick next to me, and I physically threw it at his chest. He dodged, but the distraction was enough. Using my power again, I pulled the pipe from his hands. I extended my own hand to steady the action. With every amount of control I had, I wrapped the pipe around his arms and plopped him to the rain soaked earth again.
    “The hell?!” he said bewildered.
    “I was about to tell you I’d give you that. I warned you, pal, but you wouldn’t listen to reason,” I was breathing heavy, “now you can wait for the cops to get you out of that pipe. Better hope they carry saws.”
    I went over to the Dumpster to see how she was doing. The rain had mixed with the blood from her lip making a pink stain dripping onto her grey suit. Her eye was starting to swell. I didn’t get the chance to say anything to her. Sirens wee coming up fast, I guess someone in the apartment had a conscience and called for help. I, of course, turned to take my leave.
    “Wait,” the woman called, “who are you?”
    “Me? I’m ‘Nobody’,” I repeated with a smile and ran to the fire escape again.
    I took of to the top of the building and left the scene just as police arrived. I kept running , but I don’t think my feet ever touched the ground. I was flying high on adrenaline. Adrenaline and fear. I was scared that she, or her new ex-boyfriend, would be able to give the cops a decent description of what I looked like. That was a risk I took, but it was still reckless.
    I was fortunate. The news papers reported a young woman coming to the defense of a woman during a domestic dispute. The darkness and rain from the storm aided in the description that was left behind. I was nothing more than a “young, agile woman of average height and weight with dark hair, last seen in a dark shirt and jeans.”
    Roughly translated, that meant, “go to any high school or college campus and choose someone”. How fortunate for me.

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                           PART V

    “Alex! Are you insane?! That was stupid, really stupid!” David was yelling at me in his basement.
    “But-” I started.
    “No ‘buts’. You could have gotten caught. They could have seen you! Do you have any idea what that means?”
    “Look, Dave-”
    “Don’t ‘Look, Dave’ me! All that work is for nothing if the cops catch you. You are a vigilante in their minds, they hate that.”
    “David, I-”
    “You listen to me, you have got to be careful. How can you-- Woah! Alex!”
    “Shut up, David! Will you please stop and listen to me? You are the one that said ‘Those that have the power to change things for the better also have the responsibility to follow through.’ Do you remember that? When I heard someone in trouble, my blasted conscience wouldn’t let me look away. Now I am going to put you down and you aren’t going yell at me anymore, okay? Agreed?”
    “Agreed.”, David said, so I let him down to the floor gently. As opposed to just dropping him because I was still a bit irritated with him.
    He sat down and let me explain the entire events of the night before. When I had finished the story, David sat there with a strange look on his face, mixed emotions of pride and loss. Then he said the strangest thing.
    “I guess you don’t need me anymore,” he said with a sad grin.
    “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”
    “That pipe. You could have killed him if you didn’t exercise complete control. You don’t need me to help you anymore.”
    “David, I still need you. You’re my best friend. How am I supposed to keep in shape without you throwing apples and knives at me?”
    He smiled, the old familiar smile. Without saying the words we knew our friendship was special. He had my secret and I had his trust, his loyalty. That was all that mattered. David grinned again and went over to a work table. He leaned against it’s edge and ran his fingers through his curly brown hair. Then he absently tugged his left ear lobe, his thoughtful pose.
    “i’ve been thinking...” he said quietly, “you have the potential for great things.”
    “Besides being a vigilante,” I muttered.
    “Yes, besides that. You just picked me off the floor, and did the same to that guy last night. Can you do that for yourself? I mean you’re a fair gymnast and a good athlete, but I think it would work in your favour if you could, well, if you could fly,” he finished.
    “I haven’t thouight about it. I suppose i could give it a try.”
    I rememebred David’s constant coaching, “consintrate, just consintrate.” I focused my energy into the thought of lifting myself off the floor and into the air. I concentrated on the feeling of being weightless.
    “Wow!” Dave said excitedly, and I fell roughly to the floor.
    I just sat there for a second. What had I just done? Did I really just levitate? Was flying really a possibility?
    “How high did I go?” I asked, still on the floor.
    “About two feet,” he said happily, “not bad for a first attempt.”
    “I don’t know. I think I could have done better,” I sighed, “I need to do this... I need to do... better.” I paused for a second.
    “How do you mean?” his face was worried, concerned.
    “I haven’t done a decent thing in my life. Last night was the only good thing I’ve ever done. And you know what, it felt good, real good. Not just the adrenaline, but all over good.”
    David came away from the table and knelt on the floor beside me. He put a friendly hand on my shoulder.
    “Like I said alex. Great things, great things,” he smiled.
    That was all it took, just that smile, that’s all it ever took. David’s smile always made me feel better. He took my hand and helped me off the floor, dusting me off gently.
    “Ready to try again?”
    He didn’t need to ask.

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                      PART VI

    Over a month later, I still could not completely conquer the levitation. I wanted to, but I simply couldn’t control it. I’d get a few feet off the floor then loose the control and fling myself across the room or I’d zip up suddenly only to drop like a rock.
    I had a goal, I wanted to learn to fly. I had already reached my other goals, well most of them anyway. I wanted to help others: Check. Learn better control of my gift through practice and experimentation: Done. Learn to levitate and fly. That’s on the to do list.
    David was trying to help me out on this last point, but then he likes to help me out on all points in this strange adventure I now find myself on. Even the weird ones like flight and --
    “Kinetic Girl!”
    “What?” I turned to him with a shocked expression on my face, that little phrase came out of nowhere.
    “Or ‘Mental Lass’,”he said.
    “the only one ‘mental’ here is you. What are you talking about anyway?”
    He got that sly grin again, “You’re a super hero, kinda, and you need a name. By day angst filled, punk high schooler. By night... what? We need something cool, smooth.”
    “And you think ‘Kinetic Chick’ is cool and smooth?” I laughed.
    “Daredevil! Wait, that’s taken already.” he tugged his ear, “so has ‘Wonder Woman’ and ‘Super Girl’. We need something great.”
    “Yeah, I guess we do. I was thinking. Now I can’t sew, but what about a.. I don’t know... a costume or suit?” He gave me an odd look. “Well, I mean, I can’t run around at night in jeans and T-shirts.”
    We exchange smiles and get to work on a name first, the costume can wait. We tried every thing and nothing sounded good. All the names we came up with were either already in use or just plain stupid. We couldn’t help but laugh at some of them. We followed this line of failure for a few hours, laughing and then getting exasperated before we finally had enough and gave up.
    David got up from his bean bag chair and stretched his arms over his head then popped his neck. The pen that was hiding behind his ear fell and tumbled to the floor, it rolled under a table and stopped far underneath. He was tired and groaned at the thought of retrieving the pen, but before he could bend down to get it, I did it for him. Using my little power of telekinetics, I had the pen hover in front of his nose. He plucked it from the air as I released my hold on it. He gave me a grateful smile as payment.
    “It’s late,” he sighed, “you can have my room, I’ll sleep here on the couch.”
    “No way, man! Your room reeks, I’ll take the couch.”
    He faked looking hurt, but had to agree with me. He walked up the stairs to his room on the second floor and I slept on the sofa that his out in a corner of the lab. It wasn’t long before I was sound asleep.

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                           PART VII

    I was dreaming. A slick, agile, athletic figure stood before me. A girl, young woman, with a build very similar to my own. She was standing on a corner of the city, a perch I used often. She stood silently, watching over the city.
    The suit she wore was a simple black number, a full one piece jumper style that was skin tight, but still allowed full movement. The hair flowed and waved in the breeze about the same length as my own. Gloves that covered the hands had grips on the palms and fingertips. All in all, not a bad look.
    A word kept resonating in my dream. The meanings filled the senses completely. Phrases like WOAH, ghost, illusion. Apparition, nonexistent, dream. Meanings that I understood and knew so well. All of which part of the same word. Phantom. Phantom. Fantym.
    I woke and sat bold upright on the sofa in the basement lab of my best friend’s house. That was it, I had the perfect name.
    Fantym. I am the Fantym.


                       END EPISODE TWO

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[TLK]

You are the Fantym.