"Well it's like--"
Kurt scowled and I could almost hear humming, he was thinking so hard. "There
was this one TV show where this guy had to learn how to do it and the guy who
was teaching him said to think about his power like an extra hand."
"What does that mean?"
"Just think really hard
about what you want the superguy power to do, and... I don't know, just think
really hard."
Simple enough, right?
Wrong?
I'm still not sure to this day
how I made the mental connection, and how I switched over from kinda-sorta
flying to grabbing all the trash the bullies had been throwing at us, and with
the power of my mind flinging it back at them. With interest. All that really
mattered right then was that I did it.
While the bullies ran away
screaming and whining and then tried to claim that Kurt and a whole bunch of
the big boys ganged up on them, I curled up with my first superpower-induced
sick headache, and a nosebleed. That taught me and Kurt a huge lesson that day.
Actually, a number of lessons. We
were too young and inexperienced to put it all into words or separate the
factors and different variables. The important part was that we shouldn't try
too much or work too hard, when it came to using our superhero powers.
Fortunately, Kurt had already figured out another important rule: fuel! He ran
to the concession stand and bought two creamsicles and three packages of
cookies. He had already learned that using his gizmo talent made him
achy-hungry, and if he didn't eat something right away, it turned into a killer
headache like I had.
I inhaled the treats, leaving
just the one creamsicle for Kurt. By the time Mrs. S blew her whistle to round
us all up to climb back on the bus to go back to NCH, I was feeling almost
normal. Almost, because once my headache went away and the nosebleed stopped, I
felt like I was floating about four inches off the ground. It was a heady
feeling of power, to know I had beaten the bullies at just five years of age.
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