Reckless Abandon Part 1

A crunch fractures through the truck. The violent man, with his fingers twitching over Mr. Henderson, turns blue in the face. A hand with the strength of indestructible titanium restrains his attack.

"Noe?" Mr. Henderson gasps. A crease forms between his eyebrows as he stares at Noe's towering form, miles taller than everyone else in the room. His black robes cascade to the ground, hugging his form, outlining the sheer power and strength stored in his muscles.

"Goodmorning, Mr. Henderson," Noe speaks. The deep voice of one transcendent travels across everyone's hearts and shakes the countenance of their harassment.

Peering deeply into Mr. Henderson's shivering gaze, Noe's iron grip tightens around the violent man's wrist.

Sounds of splintering bone and pierced flesh splatters. Gradually, his counterparts' expressions distort in the name horror, tripping over themselves at the dominance Noe exudes, falling into the pits of his anger. Their skin pulls at them and it feels as though thousands of fire ants sprint across their skin.

"How is this possible?" a slight partition forms between Mr. Henderson's lips. A misted breath warms Noe's robes. He almost disappears in the blue of Mr. Henderson's eyes.

"I've returned. I'm sorry it took me such a long time."

Where Noe's hand shackles, sizzling flesh sheds the scent of decaying flesh.

The bubble is popped of Noe's protection is popped. "Hey, buddy," the bubblegum woman reaches up and places her palm on Noe's shoulder, "let go of my friend here before you get hurt."

"Hurt by whom?" Noe asks.

The violent man is dizzy with pain. He sways left and right, bumping into the counter and goggling at Noe to let him go. Still, it is not enough. Noe wishes to see him writhe like the lowly worm he is, taste the dirt of his crime, lay down before Mr. Henderson and beg for his forgiveness.

Posturing themselves, the four remaining gangsters click their knucks and ready their fists. With a flick of his wrist, Noe flings them out of Mr. Henderson's ice-cream truck and sends them sprawling onto the ground outside in a jumbled bundle of limbs.

Noe smiles softly at Mr. Henderson before turning to look at the violent man.

"You," Noe snaps. Not a sound permeates the air. "You are unworthy to be a being under the protection of my Father. May tragedy follow your every step, floods destroy the providence of any work you do, locusts eat the seed of your day. I beg the Omniscient treat you mercilessly for the rest of your lif-"

"Noe, wait."

Immediately, Noe looks to Mr. Henderson. His hair is out of place and apron no longer tied behind his back. Seeing the worry in his eyes, Noe lets go of the man and turns his full attention onto Mr. Henderson.

"Please, let him go. He doesn't realize what he is doing," Mr. Henderson pleads.

For the first time, bodies nearly colliding, they fully face each other. Imploring the hand untouched by the filthy man's wrist, Noe draws the line of Mr. Henderson's arm with his fingers before hovering them over his cheek. A thick warmth forms around them and they are blanketed in the comfort that they gift each other.

"I do not understand. How can an adult not know their own actions?"

"People know so much of the hatred they have been exposed to and so little of who they are."

"He hurt you."

"He didn't touch me," beside his cheek, he takes Noe's hand in his, "thanks to you." Mr. Henderson glitters a smile, reassuring Noe that he is okay.

"Leave us," Noe glowers down at the violent man who had long fallen to the floor. He crawls across the metal and Noe sends the door shutting behind him.

The chirping of birds outside returns.

"Did you figure out who you are?" Mr. Henderson inquires.

"Almost. I know of my bloodline; my mother, my father, siblings as well. I even know who I shall devote the rest of my life to. Yet, I still feel weird, like I'm out of place in my own life."

"You've become so articulate in the last four years. Who would've guessed you'd come back in this way," Mr. Henderson studies him. "But, what happened to you Noe? You seem worlds away from being the student in my Fine Arts Class."

"I am," Noe responds. "I'm stronger now, faster now. I can protect you now."

"What if I don't need your protection?" Mr. Henderson asks.

Noe's hand drops out of Mr. Henderson's grasp, retreating. "Then say the word and I'll leave. I promise you'll never have to see me again."

"What word is this that I have to say?" Noe slips by the teasing in Mr. Henderson's voice.

Noe chokes out, "Leave."

"Well then..."

Noe shuts his eyes and all the muscles in his body tense, bracing himself for the worst.

"Stay," Mr. Henderson concludes. "I don't know why but I feel connected to you. For the past four years, I felt like I'd lost something; a vital part of myself - constantly searching for that part within a crowd of people or in footsteps that pass by. When I saw you again, I felt like I'd finally found my missing piece. It's almost surreal."

Noe takes a step forward, arms encircling Mr. Henderson's waist. Only a small gap remains between them. "For the past four years, I've thought only of you."

The gap slowly lessens. Both of them - eyes wholly captivated by the other - are bewitched by the forces of affection they feel. Their senses, each pulling Noe and Mr. Henderson together, are utterly captivated. With the sweet scent of pistachio unfurling in the air, they cannot keep themselves apart any longer.

A bridge, ever-present in the tiny space left between, is formed. All that is left is for them to close in. As Mr. Henderson's breath combines with Noe's, their eyes shut.

"STOP!" just as the tiny gap is about to be closed, Rosalind tumbles into the ice-cream truck.

Like buds whose new leaves peal on a bed of flowers, Mr. Henderson and Noe tenderly blink.

It dawns on Mr. Henderson, what he is leaning in to do. As if doused in a bath of acid, Mr. Henderson's face contorts. He leaps away from Noe, swiftly turns, and is bombarded by Rosalind and Feng Mian's figures in the doorway. The gangsters are gone but the two young faces that scrutinize Mr. Henderson bore holes into his crumbling conviction.

Guilt slams into him; more overwhelming than the violent man's punch would have been. Unable to face the memories of his past that strike like lightning in his head, he dashes out of the truck and leaves Noe standing alone. Thinking it is his fault for invading Mr. Henderson's space, Noe does not run after him.

That day, in an ice-cream truck housed by the sun, three Ephrenes share a round of questions unanswerable.

"Why did you stop us?" Noe asks Rosalind.

"I," she casts her eyes down. "I'm not sure. I just felt like I should. Why are you questioning me?" Rosalind retorts back.

"I just felt like I should," Noe repeats her words.

"Guys, we don't have time for you two to get into another fight. Let's just get Noe's soulmate and get going before we come across any trouble," Feng Mian talks some sense into them.

"What if he doesn't want to come with us?" Noe brings up.

"Then we leave him here. Come on," Rosalind steps out of the door but Noe's words stop her in her tracks.

"That's not happening," Noe further contemplates the reason Mr. Henderson ran away. Was it the exhibition of his powers that terrified him so?

"So, what should we do? It seemed to me like he was at least ten years older than you. Should we wait for your soulmate to realize he's less of a freak than he thinks he is and ride off into the sunset on Rubin's back with a too-too and pig-tails?"

"Love has no age," Feng Mian defends.

"Oh, yes it duh-uhs. When you were born, Noe, how old was he, huh? Could've been old enough to be your father."

"Noe is nineteen now. It's not like they did anything when he was younger. From what I heard them say, they had a strict teacher-student relationship."

"Oh, Omniscient! He was even Noe's teacher?!" Rosalind bursts into hysterics, tears brimming her eyes. "He's disgusting."

Suddenly, Rosalind goes flying over the counter and rolls across the park's lawn. Her vision explodes in orange-red as a wave of flames hurtles in her direction.