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Jennifer couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts were racing through her mind. At four in the morning, the perfect time, she mused sardonically,
to be playing racquetball. She had chosen the "private" court there at the 24-hour Fitness Center. Except for some ventilation holes in the upper corners, that court is completely enclosed
and the walls are all opaque. She'd have some privacy.She warmed up first with ten minutes of racquetball. With her heart beating strong, she paced around the room a few times, idly
bouncing the ball with her hand. Her eyes were downcast, and she was clearly considering some difficult decisions. "I'd better get used to it one way or another," she said simply.
With finality, she tossed both her racquet and the ball in the corner. She bolted toward the farthest wall as if she would run straight into it. But several feet away she leapt at the wall.
Executing a perfect tuck-and-roll as she hit, she came up running and dashed to the ceiling. Again a deft tuck and roll and she was running across the ceiling. "Don't think, just do," she said
out loud to herself. "Don't look, just run." |
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Another leap and she was heading toward the side wall. A glance down at the floor was all it tookto disorient her brain; she botched the next roll and crashed
head-long into the wall. Jennifer sprawled out on her stomach and closed her eyes. She slowed her breathing to take stock. Despite the fact she landed on her head and gave her neck a solid twist, she
had no pain and no injuries. OK, either that's very lucky or I've got some kind of kinetic absorbtion field. Every muscle in her body, and all the fluid in her ears told her that she was laying on the
floor, with Mother Earth comfortably below her. For several minutes, she simply relaxed letting the thousand thoughts flow through her mind. After a time, she rolled over. I'm on the floor, my body tells
me. But I know differently, her mind replies. I'm not on the floor at all.
She opened her eyes, and studied the room around her. Indeed, she was on her back, the floor somewhere above her head, and the ceiling somewhere beneath her feet. "This is really weird," she mumbled to herself.
Several minutes later, she was standing and holding two racquet balls. Her hair draped freely around her shoulders, her shirt was untucked, and loose around her waist. She was standing on the
ceiling. She held both balls against her chest and let go, watching them roll toward her feet. One rolled over her breast and launched into space, the other passed her stomach before jumping into the
air off her waistband. Both moved in an odd arc away from her body, first toward her feet, then reversing course to plunge past her face as the Earth's gravity took hold and they fell toward the floor.
Before the balls could fall very far, Jennifer raised both hands, and a purple halo formed around her fingers. Simultaneously, a purple halo surrounded each of the two racquet balls. The balls
slowed their decent and finally hung in the air only a few feet from the room's floor. With slow, deliberate gestures, Jennifer moved her arms, and the balls moved also, gracefully floating around the room. After several minutes, Jennifer could feel the effort draining her strength. Controlling the gravity of her own body was as natural as breathing. Controlling the gravity of other objects,
especially in such subtle ways as required to make them move free of the Earth's gravity, was much harder. A lavender beam shot from her left hand and lashed out at one of the balls. The elastic ball
responded to the gravitic force beam by rocketing away from her and careening off the walls and floor just as it would if struck by a racquet. Jennifer relaxed her mind, and both balls fall to the
floor. With another mental gesture, she fell toward the floor, executing a roll in mid-air and landing gently on her feet. That was a great workout, she thought.
I think I'm finally getting the hang of these powers. It's really a thrill to walk on the ceiling. I think I'm going to have to get a mask and costume, so I can walk up the side of the skyscrapers downtown.
She laughed sharply at herself. My life has just becoming completely confused, and I'm thinking of walking up a skyscraper! With a bemused laugh, Jennifer left the court to hit the showers. |
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< One hour later >Jennifer Mulligan returned home. After putting her car in the garage, she headed inside. Immediately, she realized that
some one was in the house. It's five-thirty in the morning. Who the heck would be here? she wondered to herself. Maybe David just didn't want to wait any longer to play the Mortal Kombat 5 I
just gave him. She laughed to herself. She headed upstairs and realized someone was in the kitchen cooking something that smelled delicious.
She rounded the corner and stopped short. This dark skinned ragamuffin is definitely not my brother she thought. Whoever he is, I'll play along for a minute, then call the cops as soon as I can get away
. A strange feeling tugged at the back of her mind. She pushed it away, determined to maintain control over the situation. "Hi," she said in a friendly voice. He looked up and smiled a
warm smile. "Good morning, Jennifer," he replied warmly, then he turned slightly and took a few steps back to the fridge. He continued to watch her with one eye. Breaking eye contact, Jennifer
advanced into the kitchen, showing more confidence than she felt. She smelled the dish the stranger had just removed from the oven. Her mouth watered at the aroma. "Eggplant parmesan My absolute
favorite!" she said. Her stomach had taken control over her mouth, she realized. That unidentified feeling at the back of her brain was growing stronger. With stubborn will, she pushed it down
I will maintain control of this situation. She turned, as the stranger came back. "How did you ..." she touched his arm, and that unidentified feeling crashed over her like an tsunami crashing
against the defiant shore. It was a warm peace and sense of familiarity that overwhelmed her. She knew this man, but didn't know him. She was comfortable and trusted him completely. "...know" she
finished her question weakly. He handed her a Jolt cola. "I know many things Jennifer. My name is Mr. Book. The food is almost ready. Why don't you go sit down and I'll bring it out
to you." It was a gentle suggestion, not a question. Jennifer's stomach demanded that she comply. Jennifer dropped easily into a cross-legged position on the living room floor. Her mind
was peacefully quiet for the first time in weeks, but several half-thoughts and half-emotions hung suspended in her head. She tapped the aluminum cola can absently, then popped the top. As the finished the
first caffeine-loaded pull of Jolt, Mr. Book entered and handed her a plate of food. "Thanks," she said as she took it. She looked into his eyes as he slowly lowered himself to a seated
position on the floor. Her stomach growled at the delay. "Not the most comfortable spot for an old man, dear, but I can make it." His smile was as warm as his eyes, and his young hands were
completely out of place among the worn and old style clothing he wore. "Uhm," Jennifer began, "who are you?" With the first bite, she realized her grandmother's recipe just wasn't good enough anymore.
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Gravity cuts loose! |
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