Familiar Crossways

The One Hundred and Ninety Fifth Church of Saint Mercy had ended service. The congregation gave their final amen and headed towards the front door. Many of them had telltale features that marked them as demihumans. The Church of Saint Mercy often catered to us demihumans and it was believed to be the Mercy invoked in common cussing of Sweet Mercy. Some disagree, but the point is moot. Swears rarely need meaning to have meaning. This is what I thought about as I rose from my seat in the pews and made my way out.

“Go on ahead, I’ll follow soon,” I called out as I started to where Father Micheal was standing.

“Jérémie.” My mother called after me, “Soyez pas une gêne!”

“Ferai pas. Ferai pas.” I called back. It didn’t ensure her that I wasn’t going to cause trouble of some kind, but I had only myself to blame for that. As well maintained as my record was she knew that was entirely due to me simply not getting caught misbehaving. I stepped onto the pulpit and inhaled sharply, “Of course.”

“Ah, young Jeremiah.” Father Micheal greeted me with a smile that nearly glowed. His power naturally radiated off of him in the heart of his small but firm domain. “Come to deliver more insight of the near future.”

“No Father.” I answered, “Quite the opposite in fact. I come seeking insight.”

“Oh, well I am greatly honoured to be the first source of wisdom for the great Jerry.” Micheal held his smile without fault.

“Snark is unbecoming of you Father,” I said flatly.

“Forgiveness. I should be sincere. Tell me your woe.”

“I’ve recently entered enrollment at West Progress High and was assigned to a team that named me its leader.” I explained, “I fully intend to fill the role entirely, but I find myself having trouble.”

“Leadership is hard. With every command comes challenge. Following is so much easier.”

“Very true.” I agreed, “Which is why I find myself wanting to fall back on my own teachings, many of which you imparted on me, but each of my team mates are of different faiths. Even my fellow Christian is a devout protestant.”

“Yes. There are many paths to the truth. One should not judge the path of another traveler. Only provide direction when possible.”

“There lays my problem. I often try to use my teachings, but they often rebuke or even mock me. Not in malice mind you, but I still fail to make progress in our training. Not that I care greatly, only that I wish to do my best.”

“I see the situation you have laid out. Now ask the question you wish answered.”

“What would be best for my team, my friends, and how can I work towards it?”

“I have an answer, though it will not be satisfying.”

“I predicted as much. I am ready.”

“Simply do as you will, and rely not on script or gospel, but rather your heart.”

“I see. So just wing it and hope for the best?”

“Yes, and now I will ask a favor of you young Jeremiah.”

“What’s that?”

“Would you be so kind as to have this conversation with me? I know you value your time, but these frayed timelines do hurt my head.”

Set.

I stepped onto the pulpit and inhaled sharply, “Of course.”

“Ah, young Jeremiah.” Father Micheal greeted me with a smile that nearly glowed. His power naturally radiated off of him in the heart of his small but firm domain. “Come to deliver more insight of the near future.”

“No Father.” I answered, “Quite the opposite in fact. I come seeking insight.”

We proceeded to have the exact conversion I had just foreseen, but this time in the real timeline of the world rather than the spectral time my power created for me. After we finished I returned to my mother.

“I told you not to be a bother.” My mother scolded me as I stepped outside.

“I wasn’t. I swear it.” I replied.

“You had planned to though. I know it.” My mother continued. “What topic did you have for the man anyways?”

“School problem.” We stopped at a crossroad to check for cars. “Nothing more to it.”

“There’s always more to it when it comes to demihumans.” My mother stepped off the sidewalk, “I’ve learned that far too well to be fooled.”

“A matter of faith as well.” I admitted, “Things are far more complex now. A lot of people have views with just as much conviction as me, if not more.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll rise to the challenge.”

“That is my plan.”

We turned the corner to the block that held our apartment and saw there my oldest and best friend leaning against the wall.

“Sweet Mercy.” Carl Star said as he saw us, “Jerry, I can tell how pretentious you’re being even in French. You need help man.”

“Good morning Carl.” My mother greeted now speaking English, “Would you like to join us for lunch?”

He caught my hand in his as we pulled into a shoulder bump, “Would love to Ms J. I just had to run all the way to Mexico City. I’m starving.”

“I thought you didn’t get tired unless you went supersonic,” I said already knowing the answer.

“I don’t, stayed under seven fifty the whole way. Dad woke me up at three in the morning. Told me I had to deliver some important something.” Carl explained as we entered the apartment building and rode the elevator. “Asked him why I had to do it now. Bastard said because tomorrow’s a school day.”

I laughed. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, but apparently there was some kind of overflow something that broke during the last test and no one caught it.” Carl sighed, “So I had to go prevent the world from ending. Again.”

“It’s your dream to be a hero,” I noted.

“Yeah, but like, the cool kind that fight in the streets and pops off witty one-liners.” Carl explained, “And before you ask, I’ve already used every delivery line I could think of.”

“I heard a lot of those heroes have people writing lines for them.” My mother said as she opened the door to the apartment, “Maybe ask a classmate to write some for you. Maybe ask a girl.”

“Why a girl?” Carl asked.

My mother shrugged her shoulders, “Or don’t. Nous tous avoir à deux oncles.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Carl scowled at me, “What was that? What did she say?”

“She said you will always be family,” I answered between giggles.

“Why do I not believe you?” Carl tsked, “I mean I’m just asking if she thinks guys can’t write.”

She said, “Well, I got two boys here who are failing English Arts where I, a girl, passed without a hitch. Now, what do you two want to eat?”

“Anything. I meant it when I said I was starving.” Carl said.

“Well then, I’ll make a whole meal for you two.” She walked into the kitchen and started the stove, “You two find something non-destructive to do.”

I turned to Carl, “Cards?”

“No.” He refused outright, “No games. You always cheat.”

“How can you say that? You always win.”

“Exactly.”

“Fair. TV?”

“Yuck.” Carl revolted, “There’s nothing on but news and televangels.”

I revoked at that. “Right. How about reading?”

“Got any new books?”

“Yes.”

“In English?”

“No. But I got one in German.”

“Why do you have a book in German?”

“I thought of you when I saw it. So I got it.” I walked into the library, which was just the living room, but it had bookshelves on all its walls, floor to ceiling. Marie Jarvis, like her mother before her, and hers before her, and so on, were dedicated readers. The Jarvis Library had grown and shrunk and moved over the decades. It was mostly French since the Jarvis Family was originally from the country of Louisiana that laid in the center of the continent. However, nearly every language could be found here, if only in one book. I pulled the one I had recently added myself. A hardback with a single German word. I handed it to Carl.

He looked at the title, “Star Runner? Really man?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Yes, and I know you know that.”

“I can’t read German.” I shrugged, and I couldn’t. I was able to read the English of the translation that had been next to it, but that book was still at the bookshop behind the counter on hold. It did seem like a good read.

Carl rolled his eyes knowing I would never admit the obvious not-a-lie lie. “Whatever. I’ll check it out, but if I like it I’m keeping it.”

“I would hope so. Tout pour tous.” I selected a book for myself and we took a seat.

About half an hour later my mother called us for lunch and Carl looked for a bookmark. I simply folded the corner of mine. Books are for reading, not preserving. We entered the dining room where my mother had three plates. We sat and my mother reached her hands to each of us. Carl sighed and set his own fork down and allowed my mother to say grace. Carl was not religious himself, but he was my friend. So he lowered his head in mock prayer as my mother gave thanks for this and that. Honestly, I didn’t listen. It was a routine.

“Amen.” She finished and before we could take our first bite the phone rang. Also routine. Still, my mother sighed and went to answer it.

“Jarvis House.” Her face turned bitter, “No! I’ve told you I don’t work on Sunday.”

Her face advanced into anger, “That’s not the point! It is the sabbath!”

Her next response was a full yell, “Yes! That counts as work!”

She slammed the phone down before returning to the table clearly upset.

“Was that your boss Ms J?” Carl asked, but I didn’t bother hearing the answer.

Set.

My mother shrugged her shoulders, “Or don’t. Nous tous avoir à deux oncles.”

I chuckled to myself. Carl scowled at me, “What was that? What did she say?”

“She said you will always be family,” I answered.

“Why do I not believe you?” Carl tsked, “I mean I’m just asking if she thinks guys can’t write.”

She said, “Well, I got two boys here who are failing English Arts where I, a girl, passed without a hitch. Now, what do you two want to eat?”

“Anything. I meant it when I said I was starving.” Carl said.

“Well then, I’ll make a whole meal for you two .” She walked into the kitchen and started the stove, “You two find something non-destructive to do.”

I walked over to the phone and pulled the plug that connected it to the phone line. It was the only one in the house, and so now no one would be able to call in or out. Carl raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question it as I suggested a game of cards. He declined and we discussed what to do until settling on reading. Which I then informed him that I had a new book that was written in German. About half an hour later we entered the dining room where my mother said grace and we enjoyed the meal together. Uninterpreted.

Carl and I left after I changed out of my Sunday best. He held the Star Runner under his arm as we made our way. We were heading out west where Carl’s dad worked and they also lived. Star Touch Labs was one of the most active research programs in the world. One of the few things that ran on an international scale, which was appropriate since they were formed to engineer interstellar travel after The Hoard Invasion was fought off.

Surrounded by three layers of nothing Star Touch HQ stood eighty stories tall with perfectly square corners the whole way. The most common way to and fro was by a private rail shuttle. The second most common was on foot at super speeds, which was tallied up mostly by Carl. Today he rode with me. As the building came over the horizon I said to Carl, “Are you still on the top floor?”

He sighed, “Yeah, I keep telling Dad that it’s so stupid to live at the literal furthest point from his research. It already takes two forevers to get up from the lab, why add another half of forever to go up to the top.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Especially when he needs to shake his son awake,” I added.

“Yeah, that’s another thing. I have to either ride the elevator forever, or use the stairs, which everyone hates, including me. Using stairs at two hundred miles is not fun, up or down.”

“Well maybe today is the day we can convince him to finally move down a few floors.”

“Is it?” He asked. I just shrugged at him.

We arrived at the front of the building where a number of armed guards loitered around. They were all in helmets, though some had opened their vents to place cigarettes to smoke. They were lax and scattered about with no clear formation. The external guard was more show than anything. Not to show a highly defended building with possible world-ending technology in it, but rather a still highly defended building with some cool stuff but it couldn’t be that cool because would these guys be so disorganized if it was that cool? The actual image you wanted for a building with possible world-ending technology in it.

“Sup Carl.” A guard with a Corporal Rank emblem waved. “Heard you had a rude awakening today.”

“Well you heard wrong, because I hadn’t even started when I was jerked out of my super harem sex dream,” Carl said deadpan.

“Ha! Well, at least you weren’t jacking it.”

“Yeah, that was last time.” Carl deadpanned again, “The jerk.”

The guard as well as any other in earshot laughed. Carl joined in and I just smiled. These people knew Carl, and he knew them. They were daily faces. Even before Carl became a demihuman five years ago in a lab experiment gone wrong. He was hit by some cosmic something and from then on could warp spacetime to move himself at impossible speed. Or something like that. Point was they had known him all his life. They were practically family.

“What up Jerry.” The guard greeted me. “Mind if I ask for tonight’s lottery numbers?”

“Not at all, so long you’re the one going to jail.”

“Ah, rain check then.” He pushed a button on his belt and then swiped a hand over a box which opened the door to the first floor. There was nothing of note in the room, which was of great note in itself. Six elevators lined the back wall. Two doors at each end opened to the stairway. Restrooms just off to the side, clearly marked. Finally, at the back corners, camouflaged into the wall, were two more doors that led into the armory where another wave of guards sat on standby. Ready to defend the building from anything that made it past the still capable decoy guard outside.

We entered the elevator and Carl sighed as he punched in the coding for the eightieth and top floor. The ride wasn’t anywhere close to any fraction of forever, but for Carl, it was still a whole moment. We arrived at the very top floor where the housing of the lead scientists were. One of which was the founder of the program. Doctor Gustav “Goose” Star. A perfectly mundane human with no trace of otherness to him. Many of his underlings were mutants, demigods, or had extraordinary training. Dr. Goose just had a good head, a strong heart, and iron guts that were all dedicated to science and the advancement thereof.

Which was why he was likely in the labs, almost a mile underground. Carl went up to the bookcase in his living room. A single case that held more knickknacks than books. He placed the book by itself between two statues that were given to Dr. Goose after one of his discovery publishings. Carl turned to me, “So what do you want to do now?”

“Should you check in with your dad?” I asked.

“Already did. Security will tell him I’m here, and when we leave.”

“We? To where?”

“It’s a less than minute for me to go back and forth. I can walk with you back.”

“Oh, a gentleman I see.”

“Shut up. I’ll probably go just for dinner. Your mom is the best cook I know.”

“Oh, so it’s my mother you’re after. I see. Well, you’re going to have a hard time. My mother is a woman of class.”

“I’ve been saving up.” He said and then stopped in his tracks. He looked to me and apologized, “Sorry man. I didn’t mean to…”

“What? You didn’t say, or imply, anything that wasn’t true.” I ensured him. It wasn’t something I was sensitive about. “Besides, I’ve heard you say worse about your own dad.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a right bastard.”

“Who’s a right bastard?” the voice of Dr. Goose asked as the man entered the apartment. The man was old. In his late sixties if I remembered right, having waited until his fifties to marry and start a family. He wore his years well. His head was bald with hints of white fuzz from at least a week of not shaving. His wrinkles were all shaped by laughter. His frame had also held, though it was starting to give way causing his shoulders to slouch slightly. He was dressed business casual and wore almost oversized glasses.

Without missing a beat Carl answered, “You. You are a right bastard.”

“Oh!” He nodded as he came further in, “I see. I assume the delivery went well this morning.”

“As you should since we’re all not dead,” Carl said walking into the path of his father and raising his arms as they wrapped each other in a hug. Carl wasn’t lying about hating his dad. He honestly meant it when he complained about all the inane and frustrating stuff his dad put him through and how much he hated it all, but hate is not the opposite of love. They were, at the end of the day, family.

“That sounds about right.” Dr. Goose said as they finished hugging. “Of course, temporal decay may take time. And I would rather just talk to my son than assume his answers. What do you two have planned for the rest of the day?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“Just as I predicted.” Dr. Goose said, “Yet I still ask, because social engagement is important.”

“Okay Dad.” Carl rolled his eyes, “Are you done for the day?”

“Yes and no.” Dr Goose said, “Done with experiments, but now I need to handle more personal matters. Budget and schedules and rest of the boring stuff. If you’re asking about dinner, you’re better off making your own plans.”

“Alright, thanks,” Carl said and the two nodded before Dr Goose headed down a hallway to his office. We stood there as he closed the door. Carl looked to me and asked, “Roof?”

I nodded.

The roof was accessible by either stairs or elevator. The elevator opened to a small room just big enough to hold the portals in and out. We walked out to the after noon sun. Off to the east was Progress City. The massive city was only a hill at this distance. To the west, the Appalachian mountains stretched the horizon lining the natural border of The Union. The rest of the lands were empty. An artificial barrier to protect the facility from harm and others from the facility. It wasn’t a secret lab. It was just dangerous.

We looked at the land. Carl spoke up, “Wish we would do this more.”

“Stare at fields of grass?” I asked.

“Hang out. We haven’t done anything since school started.”

“We’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been busy. You’ve been making yourself busy.”

“Yeah, I’m my team’s leader. That has responsibilities.”

“I know. I’m a team leader too. We could be setting up training sessions together and stuff.”

“That wouldn’t be fair.”

“What do you mean? The other teams? No one is stopping them from training together.”

“We would learn how to counter you at every turn.”

“So would we, and we would develop secret techniques, and so would you.”

“What about scheduling? It’s hard enough to get my team together as it is. Imagine getting two.”

“That’s pathetic. We’re best friends and you won’t even try. You’re just making excuse after excuse, and it’s not going to work.”

He was right. There was nothing I could say that would satisfy him. No tone I could take to get through to him. This conversation had no good ending. That much I could see.

Set.

We looked at the land. Carl spoke up, “Wish we would do this more.”

“Me too.” I said back, “We need to make time when we can.”

Carl looked at me. I couldn’t tell if he knew or not, but he didn’t say anything, and he wouldn’t. Maybe that was evidence to his knowledge, but still we just stood around until we decided we had wasted enough time together. We got in the elevator and rode down. Made another round of jokes with the guards, and boarded the shuttle back to the city.

We made our way back to my home taking the main roads. The streets were mostly empty during the time after everyone got home, but before they decided to go out for the evening. As we came to a cross way the path was blocked by a large man, or rather a large boy. His age was marked by the navy blue uniform that was a palette swap of our own. This also marked him as both a demihuman and a hooligan looking for trouble.

“Well well well.” He cracked his knuckles as well as his neck. “A few punks with no sense.”

Set.

We made our way back to my home taking the back ways. The alleys that webbed through the various blocks that were often only wide enough for utility. Few people walked them, either heading home or to a friend’s home to decide evening plans. As we neared the end of one alley that opened to the main road a large boy blocked our path. Navy blue school uniform and a stance that showed arrogance showed he was looking for trouble.

“Well well well.” He cracked his knuckles as well as his neck. “A few punks with no sense.”

Set.

We made our way back to my home, but took an extended route. I told Carl that I had remembered some groceries I needed to get and declined his offer for him to just get them at super speeds. We when through a few markets and I did allow him to carry some of the load after a small argument. We had gotten nearly completely around the area and were finally heading straight home. The streets were mostly empty with only a few couples who had decided how to spend the evening out walking around. We rounded a corner and were met by a large man wearing a navy blue school uniform.

“Well well well.” He cracked his knuckles as well as his neck. “A few punks with no sense.”

Set.

We made our way back to my home taking the main roads. The streets were mostly empty during the time after everyone got home, but before they decided to go out for the evening. As we came to a cross way I warned Carl to be ready just before our path was blocked by a large man, or rather a large boy. His age was marked by the navy blue uniform that was a palette swap of our own. This also marked him as both a demihuman and a hooligan looking for trouble. There was no point in trying to avoid him. He had obviously tracked us and wanted a fight.

“Well well well.” He cracked his knuckles as well as his neck. “A few punks with no sense.”

“Is that always your opening line?” I asked, “Or just to the guys you try to impress?”

“What was that?” The boy looked at me snarling.

“He asked if you’re trying to hit on us.” Carl followed up, “And I’m sorry to say you’re wasting your time.”

“Indeed, we already have plans tonight,” I said.

“Doing your Mom,” Carl added.

The boy was already in a rage and seemed ready to kill us, “I don’t have a mom.”

“Listen,” I countered without missing a beat, “We don’t care that she’s technically your dad, just so long as she wears the dress.”

“Fucking die!” He swung his fist straight into my cheek. I felt my skull break under his super strength and fell to the ground.

Set.

“Fucking die!” He swung his fist straight to where my cheek was just two seconds before as I had moved my head in the second between then and him sending his fist at me. He tried to grab me but was knocked aside by Carl, who didn’t have super strength, but did know how to throw a punch at eighty miles an hour without hurting himself. He tried to attack Carl, but Carl just dodged every punch using his natural reflex.

I watched the exchange and tried to think of how to help when a powerful blow hit the back of my head sending me to the ground.

Set.

I watched the exchange and waited just a moment before twisting my body and sending a kick into the stomach of a girl who had a wooden bat. I grabbed the bat and pulled. She held her grip and came forward into the jab I sent into her face. I noticed that she had not only kept her grip on the bat again, but also that she was wearing a navy blue uniform as well. Albeit with the skirt bottom and coat only buttoned over her chest.

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you girls don’t hit boys?” I asked as I tried to twist the bat out of her hand.

She shook off my hits and grabbed the bat with both hands and tried to wretched out of my own grip, “Didn’t your dad tell you your mom’s a whore?”

“Everyday.” I stepped forward to slam my foot down on hers and jammed the bat into her stomach. She was knocked off balance and tried to step back, but couldn’t lift her foot under mine. She fell backwards and I let go of the bat as it arched and hit her in the head. I turned to check on Carl to see that he had held his own. I was about to rejoin him when another ambush came from above. Some mook had jumped from somewhere and landed on my back. I saw another had tried to get Carl, but his super speed allowed him to dodge, but only barely.

Set.

“Everyday.” I stepped forward to slam my foot down on hers and jammed the bat into her stomach. She was knocked off balance and tried to step back, but couldn’t lift her foot under mine. She fell backwards and I let go of the bat as it arched and hit her in the head. I turned to check on Carl to see that he had held his own. I shouted to him, “Carl, look out above!”

I jumped to the side as the mook landed next to me. He had to crouch to stick the landing which I used to send my foot into his face knocking him back onto the girl who was trying to stand only to be knocked down again. I looked to see that Carl was taking on Big Guy and Mook Number Two. Big Guy was too big for me, but the mook seemed to rely on speed. So I approached him and I swung a fist as I shouted, “Over here, fucker!”

If I hadn’t yelled out I would caught him on the chin, but that’s not how you’re supposed to fight a brawl. In a brawl, you yelled and shouted and taunted each other. Brawls were about the joys of fighting after all. Not winning. If you wanted to win a fight then the best way was to end it before it even began. I could have called the police, or just yelled for help the moment Big Guy stepped in front of us. Or even just asked him to leave us alone. He might have harassed us, but he would have just got on and jumped the next guy who looked tough enough to hold his own in a brawl. Which is what this was, a brawl.

Mook Two stepped back and started to swing at me. His punches were fast and I only dodged them with my foresight. I blocked a right hook head-on and sent my own at him. He half blocked it, his speed not seeming to help his own reflexes much. I slammed my head into his as a head butt and he stumbled back. I heard the girl shout behind me.

“You fuckers! I’ll kill you!” She had returned to her feet and produced a baseball from somewhere. She tossed it into the air shouting, “Eat this.”

As the ball fell into the strike zone she swung the bat and it cracked like thunder sending the ball past everyone at supersonic speeds. The shock wave knocked me and Carl down. I heard Carl yell as Big Guy stomped on him and then myself as Mook Two followed through on me. They must have braced themselves before the attack came through, and now they had us. What a pain.

Set.

“You fuckers! I’ll kill you!” She had returned to her feet and produced a baseball from somewhere. She tossed it into the air shouting, “Eat this.”

“Carl! Catch it!” I shouted.

As the ball fell into the strike zone she swung the bat and it cracked like thunder sending the ball to the middle of the brawl where Carl caught it in his right hand. He was clearly in pain. His body was capable of taking more force than mundane bodies, but you didn’t have to break to get hurt.

Carl switched the ball into his left hand and whined up into a pitching stance calling out, “Batter up!”

Baseball Girl had to have played because as if by instinct she raised the bat and took a batting stance gritting her teeth in defiance. Carl cocked his arm back and unleashed the ball, not at supersonic speeds, but just under the sound barrier. Straight into Baseball Girl’s knee.

She cried out in pain and dropped the bat as she collapsed to the ground. Her leg very much bending the wrong way. She was crying and shaking unable to hold back the pain under a stream of swears.

“Mary!” Big Guy shouted as he ran past us to Baseball Girl, who was apparently named Mary. He knelt down next just as Mook One and Mook Two got there.

“Hit by pitch.” Carl said grinning, “Batter takes first.”

Big Guy looked over. Before I thought he seemed ready to kill us, but I was wrong. Now he seemed ready to kill. He stood and started to us before Mook One shouted, “Joey! Forget about them!”

“Yeah man, we got to find a medic!” Mook Two added, “You’re the only one who can carry her.”

Big Guy, Joey, gritted his teeth and pointed, “This ain’t over assholes.”

He turned and lifted Mary with gentle hands making sure not to agitate her leg. She still whimpered from pain as the gang walked off and around a corner.

Carl looked over to me, “Did I go too far? Breaking her leg and all?”

I shrugged, “You’ve suffered worse. How many skull fractures have you eaten over the years from head-on collisions with walls?”

“That’s different. Also, I always had a medic nearby.” Carl explained, “But I guess if there was a better outcome you would have done that.”

He winced at his own almost broken arm. “I’ll call the local hospitals. Try to get them taken care of.”

I nodded and we continued on our way making it back to my place just as the sun finally set. We entered the apartment and I called out that I was home. My mother leaned out of the kitchen, “Jérémie, bon chez. Oh, Carl. You came for dinner?”

“If it’s not a problem.” Carl said, “If it is, I’ll just head out.”

“C’est pas.” Mother waved him in, “Sit. It’s almost ready.”

“Uh, mur see boo coo.” Carl said back one syllable at a time, “Is that right?”

I nodded, “Do you need the phone book for the hospitals?”

“Hospitals!?” My mother said in shock and stepped out of the kitchen, “Did you say hospital? Also, did you unplug the phone earlier?”

I admitted to both and she asked, “Why?”

“We got jumped into a brawl and Carl broke a girl’s leg in half,” I explained as I handed a phone book to Carl

“What? Carl! Didn’t your father tell you boys don’t hit girls?” My mother looked at him flipping pages.

“Probably. Doesn’t matter. She swung first.” Carl started punching in numbers.

My mother rubbed her eyes for a moment, “Wait, why did you unplug-”

I softly shushed my mother before she could finish her question pointing to the phone in Carl’s hand. She huffed and went back into the kitchen.

The phone rang on the other side until it was answered by a voice I couldn’t understand. When it finished Carl spoke, “Yes, I wanted to check if a girl named Mary checked in recently with a broken leg. Right at the kneecap. She’s likely with a guy named Joey and two other guys.”

The voice said something back, “I understand, but if they are there or if they come in, please direct any billing to the Star Touch Labs.”

The voice said something else, “Yes, they will. In full. Thank you.”

Carl then hung up and proceeded to call more hospitals to deliver similar speeches.

By the time he was done dinner was ready. My mother again said grace and we enjoyed a great meal. My mother truly was the greatest cook we knew.

After we walked out the front of the apartment block and we said our farewells. Then, at super speed, Carl ran off back to his own home. I just stood there for a moment watching my best friend leave. I had met Carl on the first day of secondary school. We were the only demihuman the other had ever met and we quickly became friends. With his speed and my foresight, we were the worst punks in the school, but we were never caught. Didn’t stop the teachers from giving us detentions to which our well-informed parents didn’t object to. We didn’t care though. We were in it together. The thick, the thin, and everything in between. Which made my goal so much harder.

I can see into the future and I see as far as I want, but as I go farther and farther the image gets blurrier and blurrier. There are a thousand ways the future can go, but some things are constant. Points like landmarks clearly seen at a distance. Great events that are inevitable. One of which is Carl becoming the great hero The Star Runner. When I gaze far into the future I see him like a beacon cutting through the haze, but only in the timelines where we grow apart. Only in the timelines where I’m not his friend.

I can see into the future, but it gets too blurry to really use within a few hours, and I don’t know how to navigate to the path where my friend achieves his dream of becoming a great hero. Of course, if it was that easy then he wouldn’t have the stuff that makes him a great hero.