Article 8: Pain and Change

...

...?

That's what I thought at least, until I opened my eyes and looked forward.

The world had become still. The grass didn't wave, the birds didn't chirp, and the clouds didn't roll. The light of the amber sunrise had dulled to a Persian orange, painting the surrounds in an eerie glow.

I looked towards Bob. Mere millimeters in front of my brow resided a metal object. It was a bullet still slightly glowing from the explosion that propelled it.

I was astonished. How could any of this be happening? Now, I have one more crazy thing to add to my list.

I looked past the bullet and stared at Bob's face. I was shocked. It wasn't filled with the coldness that I had seen the moment before I closed my eyes, instead it was filled with shock, sadness, and remorse.

It was then that I understood. Maybe Bob didn't actually mean to pull the trigger. Maybe he was doing this to push me into a situation similar to what happened when Mr. Wheat Field on a Hill caught up to me. Haha, what a crazy bastard.

I got up from where I had fallen on my butt, and moved the bullet into the ground so that it wouldn't do any harm to anyone. Surprisingly, the bullet didn't feel hot for some reason. It was almost like it was covered in some kind of film that prevented me from actually touching it.

After that I went behind Bob, just to make extra sure I wouldn't get hit by the bullet in case it somehow ricocheted out of the ground.

...

What now?

I stood there thinking that the situation was a time limited thing, but it didn't stop even after a few minutes of standing around waiting.

"Uhhh, start?"

As I commanded with complete confidence, a grey film flowed into me from the surrounding area. When it did, and finally returned, sound and motion started again, the surrounding light regaining its vibrance.

The bullet only made the earth I buried it in slightly jump, and a low thud to accompany it.

From behind I could see Bob's initial emotions soon change to be filled with shock and then to wariness. After he realized that not only the bullet but Marcus was not in the place they were the instant before, he looked up and started looking around, as if expecting something to jump out from the shadows cast by the trees above.

That was when he turned around and saw me standing there. When he looked at me, he stared for a few seconds before his eyes grew noticeably wider, and then they went white.

Bob had fainted, his eyes rolling back into his head as he fell backwards, landing on the soft forest floor clutter.

...Was it that big of a shock?

Welp, at least he'll believe me when he wakes up.

I knelt down and picked up Bob giving him a piggyback. It was surprisingly easier than I thought it would be, given that I barely exercised and hadn't played a sport since high school. It was astonishing that I could carry a full-grown man's dead weight.

...Is this perhaps that living gas' doing?

As my thoughts reached this point, I crested the hill behind the rest stop and could see the RV. Hannah was standing in the door of the RV with a worried look. My guess is she heard the gunshot from earlier, but I can't be certain if that is the case.

She finally spots me as I emerge from the foliage, and comes racing forward as fast as her old legs can carry her. She worriedly grabs Bob's face and with a panicked tone looks at me and asks, "What happened to him, is he alright?"

"He's fine. I'm pretty sure he just fainted from shock."

"Shock...?"

My words seemed to not make sense to her. It seemed she didn't really believe my story even though me being alive was proof of that, not that she actually knew that.

"Yes, shock. Bob will tell you about it when he wakes up, so let's let him rest until then and wait for him to recover."

"Yes...yes you're right. Bring him back to the RV, so we can lay him down."

Hannah and I went back to the RV where I laid Bob on the bed to rest. Afterwards, I went to sit on the couch I had previously slept on, where I would stew in my thoughts for the next couple hours until Bob awoke.

During this time Hannah didn't leave Bob's side. I honestly felt bad for the lady, she doesn't know whether or not she can trust the person sitting mere meters away, and she's also worried about her partner's health and safety. It must be stressful being so helpless in such a situation.

***

While I stewed in my thoughts, I thought about all the different things that had happened and what I was going to do from then on.

First was my current situation. You know, being on the run and a wanted terrorist?

I don't know what I'm going to do, to be honest. I can't go to my family for help, knowing them, they'd turn me in. Plus, I'm moving West, away from my family.

...

Should I smuggle myself out of the country?

It seems like a good plan. The problem is, how do I get out of here? I have no money, no ID. I only have the clothes on my back. That crosses off airplanes unless I ship myself in a package or suitcase, but that ain't happening.

So, my only option is to use a boat. I could probably use one of those gigantic crate shippers. You know, the ones with the big metal containers lined up for a couple football fields on end.

My only issue is the time it takes and having enough resources to survive the trip. If I only need to think about survival, and not about thriving, I can get by drinking little and eating little, but I'll be exhausted when I reach land again, which isn't optimal. Maybe I can steal food on board? That might work, but it might get me caught and detained next time the boat lands, which would defeat the purpose of getting out of the country.

My only option is to somehow find enough food for around a two-week voyage and haul it on board with me, I guess?

The other problem is sneaking on board. Meh, it'll probably be fine.

***

"Mm? Hannah, what's...?!" as Bob said this his eyes flashed open and frantically looked around, until his eyes landed on me.

"Y-Y-You...you weren't lying..." Bob said, struggling to actually believe the words he was speaking.

"Yeah." I said, without much to follow up.

Bob proceeded to tell Hannah what had happened, and as he did Hannah's eyes continued to widen, first by the fact that he drew his gun on me, then when he shot, and finally when I "dodged" the bullet. Her eyes were so wide open you might mistake here for an aye-aye.

"We're sorry for our distrust in you, please accept our apologies."

"It's whatever, any normal person would react the same way you did if I told them the same story, well maybe not the same way, but pretty close."

"Thank you, son. So, now what?"

"You guys were going to Bakersfield, right? I plan to stow away on a shipping vessel until I reach another country, preferably Asia. I can easily escape once I'm there and decide what to do from there."

"...Hmm, I think I can do you one better. Heheh, let this old man help you out. Instead of your rickety plan, I can get you on your way in a few days."

***

We had reached Bakersfield later the day the whole "prove it" incident happened.

While I was asleep Bob had driven just outside of Enoch, Utah, about halfway from where they picked me up to Bakersfield.

We arrived in Bakersfield around 5PM PST later that day. I never asked them why they were going to Bakersfield before, and to be honest I didn't care. Normally, it'd be one of the first questions I asked, but for some reason I feel like I can't be bothered to even ask, since it seems like too much of a hassle.

When we arrived, Bob drove us into an RV park where we parked and settled in. Bob and Hannah got everything unpacked and set up, while I was "supervising" in a comfortable chair outside.

Bob had brought some cuts of meat in a chest freezer in the RV, which he promptly prepped and grilled.

In the meanwhile, Hannah prepared the side dishes and the rest of the meal.

We ate and chatted. Some of the other people in the RV park came over, attracted by the smell of meat, like flies to a carcass, and joined in on the conversation. After a while, it had become quite rowdy. It was quite weird being amongst a whole bunch of old people partying, to be honest.

As night drew in, the old folks retired, and it became quiet again.

***

"Quite the cool night for summer."

"Yeah, it is. I'm just glad it's quiet again."

"Don't be such a drag, it was fun... What? You don't think being around a bunch of us old folks is fun? Millennials, humph."

"It was fun for the first couple minutes, but then it was like a family reunion where all your grandparents are asking how old you are and saying 'I remember when-blah blah blah'. Have enough of that at Thanksgiving."

"Hahaha, well what do you expect? Most of our friends are either dead or dying. All we care about at this age is our family and the memories we've made with them. That's why we act like that, cause otherwise you might not even remember to call to wish us a happy birthday."

"..."

Bob and I were sitting under the rollout awning, talking under the brisk, clear night sky. It made me think back to how my grandmother would always comment about how big I've gotten, even though I'd been the same height for the past decade.

"So, about getting you out of the country, I know a guy, he works for a freight company. I can ask him to let you come on board as a 'work study,' and once you get somewhere you like, just skip town and you're set. Of course, I'll pay him so he can feed you and whatnot, so don't worry about that."

"...Thank you."

"Hehe, it's the least I can do."

"...No, you're doing more than most likely anyone else would. Is it because I remind you of your son, as you said?"

"...Yes."

"I see."

"..."

"..."

We sat in silence for a couple minutes, the serenade of crickets and gentle caress of the breeze accompanying us in our silence.

"I never told you why we were traveling to Bakersfield."

"I never asked."

"Haha, yes, you didn't. But I want to tell you."

"Sure."

"You see, we drove here because this is where our son wanted his ashes spread."

"..."

"When we were younger, we used to live here. My son, Thomas, loved it here. He always loved the sun, and being able to go outside and play with the neighbors' children. He loved the mountains and the ocean that weren't too far away. He said that if he could, he would want to live here his whole life. But we had to move away. My work took me to Chicago, and Thomas was nine at the time. I don't think he forgave me until he became a high schooler. Haha..."

"..."

"Well, he graduated, went to college, got a degree in Astronomy and became a researcher at the University of Chicago. He got married, divorced soon after, and then continued to work."

"..."

"A few years after his divorce, he started to feel sickly, and got checked out. Turns out he had a rare form of blood cancer. They said it was aggressive and he had only a few months left to live at best. You know what he did?"

"Went here?"

"Yeah. He spent the last few months of his life living in the place he loved the most. Here. His home. I'll never forget the look on his face the last time I saw him, you couldn't find a happier person on the face of this planet. He had the biggest, stupidest smile on his face as he said, 'Dad, I love you. See you later.' I-I'll never forget that smile. That goddamn smile, haha."

Bob sat there with tears rolling down his cheeks, grinning as he stared in the night sky. He seemed happy, yet sorrowful at the same time. The pain of losing his son, of having his son die before him. The happiness that the memories of his son provided. It all congealed and stuck to Bob as his gaze was fixed on the tenebrous sky.

"We had the funeral in Chicago, where all his friends were and where we were. But, in his will he wanted his ashes to be scattered here, where he was born and where he died..."

"..."

"Haha, sorry if I depressed you with all that..."

"No, I'm glad you told me. It was something I needed to hear... You know, I didn't ask you about why you were traveling here simply because it felt like too much of a hassle, but I'm glad I heard the story, regardless of how hasslesome it may have been... I think that whatever this power is that I have gained, it is starting to change me. I forget if I told you, but I am—or used to be a journalist. Asking you about your journey would've been something like instinct, y'know. But, the first thought I had was 'It's too much of a hassle'."

"...I see."

"..."

"..."

We sat in silence once again, hushed by the implications of my words. This power, whatever it is, is changing me. For better or for worse, I cannot say.

"Do you think I'll become something less human, something that thinks of humans as nothing more than a 'hassle'?"

"I can't say. You know, I'm not the Great Big Book of Everything; I don't know much. What I do know is, like Uncle Ben said, 'with great power comes great responsibility.' Yes, you may be changing, for better, for worse, I can't say. You are the one who decides that. You decide whether or not you change for the worse or for the better. And I know you are a good person, even though I just met you. So, with the responsibility that this power brings, change for the better, and wisely bear the responsibility, instead of foolishly and arrogantly."

"...I see. Thank you."

***

The next morning, I was greeted to the freshly risen sun's fluttering rays gleaming through the partially shut blinds of the RV.

Hannah was already up and she was making breakfast at the small kitchen in the RV. The savory smell of bacon, the sweet freshly cut fruit, the eggy smell of eggs... don't really know how to describe that smell.

Through the blinds next to the door, I can see Bob reading the newspaper, wherever he got that. I can see there are some of the other old folks from last night sitting around out there reading the newspaper, doing crossword puzzles, and talking.

"Oh, you're up. Mind giving me a hand with this?"

"Sure."

I helped Hannah make breakfast, stacking the pancakes, plating the bacon, all the things you'd expect from a larger breakfast.

The moment felt surreal. It felt like when I went to my grandparents' cabin and we didn't have any internet connection, the animals were chirping outside, the only sound were those of papers turning, and chopping and sizzling of food.

It felt nostalgic. I felt, peaceful.

The last few days had been some of the craziest, most traumatic times in my life, and it was all washed away in this moment by the pure feeling of nostalgia.

I felt like a kid again. To a time when the only worries you had were about your grades, or if your crush liked you back.

I felt the weight of what I held temporarily lifted off me.

Ah, what a wonderful sensation...

"...up!"

Is someone arguing outside?

I peer through the blinds and see everything is still the same, no one heard anything.

"...ake up!"

Again? Am I hallucinating or something?

"Wake up, Marcus!"

...?!

...

Disappointment, sadness, grief.

My brief reprieve from the chaotic timeline which has now become my life was shattered.

My nostalgia-filled world was nothing but a mere illusion, a dream.

The feeling I was floating on before was ruefully ripped out from underneath me as all the negative emotions that had been suppressed, now came crashing down on me.

"Mm...? What is it?"

"Thank God, you wouldn't wake up. We were worried something had happened and were about to call for help. It's good that you're awake now. We have breakfast waiting for you when you're ready."

"Thanks..."

I realized that I had been quite exhausted physically and emotionally. Running for my life and facing death weren't very pleasant experiences. The combination of these events had weighed on me and caused me to fall into a deep sleep, which I had found hard to awake from. Even though the dream I had awoken from was more pleasant than reality, the situation before me wasn't so bad either.

Hannah and Bob had made a large breakfast. They had pancakes, assorted fruits, bacon, and eggs. Although I didn't have the comforting feeling of nostalgia wash over me, I was nevertheless comforted by the atmosphere during the meal.

***

That day, after breakfast, Bob made the call to his friend that worked on a freight ship. He asked to meet me, I obliged as I didn't really have any other choice.

Bob drove me to the shipyard where we were greeted by a large round man with a thick beard and a jovial expression plastered across his face.

"Haha! Bob, long time no see!"

The big man came up to Bob and gave him one of those guy hugs where you're basically just patting each other's backs.

"Good to see you too, Ron."

Apparently, the guy's name is Ron.

"So, this must be the kid you were talking about? He's pretty scrawny lookin' but he'll do."

"Haha, go easy on him. He's had a hard past couple of days."

"Promise I'll go easy on him. Reasonable is my middle name! Seriously..."

Ron trailed off and continued to talk with Bob while I was by the side observing the interaction. As I got bored of the old man talk, I looked around at all the crates, cranes, and ships moving about. There had to be thousands of them. Imagine all the goods that must be in them. It would seriously be a problem if this system were to go down.

"Hey, kid, you ready?"

"Hmm?"

"Whatcha spacin' out for? I asked if you're ready to go or not?"

"Oh yeah, I'm ready..."

Ron had asked me this. It seemed the ship he was on was leaving today. To be honest, I wasn't expecting to get a ticket out so quickly. I thought it would've taken at least a couple of days. But I would be leaving immediately.

I didn't have any personal effects, so I could get up and go whenever.

It was quite dull, though. In my whole life, I hadn't been out of the country. So, leaving was a new experience for me, and to be doing it under the current circumstances was empty to say the least. I didn't feel excited or nervous, it felt like when I was traveling on the road with Bob and Hannah, calm and continuous.

"Well, this is goodbye. I hope we can meet again in the future. Stay safe, son, and good luck."

"Thanks... for everything."

And so, I parted ways with Bob on those words, and went further into the freight yard with Ron.