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The Powerless Stone
by John J. McNally
The day had started
perfectly for Robin Creari, he had set out on his racing bike along the
smooth highway just south of Hollister, California. It was early Sunday
morning, and there was just enough mist in the air to make it cool. He
felt invincible as he flew through the stop sign at Fairfield Road, and
worked his way toward the little town of Tres Pinos.
Tres Pinos was barely
a blip on the map, a town claiming five hundred that lay along Highway
25. The town had one gas station/general store, a Laundromat, and several
restaurants and bars. Robin flew by them, smiling at the 35 mile per hour
speed limit. For a cyclist, that was an admirable goal on a flat stretch.
It was a much-needed
break for Robin to be riding again. He had been working six days a week,
both at the office and at home on a project that, before the dot com crash,
belonged to six fellow employees. He was under a lot of pressure to finish
this current project soon; but if Robin didn't get some time for himself,
something was bound to give.
Robin zipped through
the sleeping town with the wind in his face, feeling exuberant. Ahead
of him was a long sloping downhill that stretched for over half a mile
until it reached a sharp left curve. The road had been cut through an
even larger section of hill, which rose up about 15 feet on either side
for the first few hundred feet making a miniature canyon. Then it opened
up to a golf course on one side and parkland on the other. The sides of
the canyon-like roadway were lined with weeds and rocks. The weeds grew
all the way down to the road's edge, and it was from behind some of them
that the black cat jumped into the road, practically under Robin's tire.
Robin wrenched up
his handlebars to pull up the tire and swerved, but lost control of the
bike. The front wheel skidded off the side of the road and stuck in the
grass. The sudden sensation of the back wheel rising off the ground told
him that he was in trouble. Finally he was airborne, trying to find a
safe landing on the rocky, grassy surface.
Hands reaching for
some clear spot to absorb his landing, Robin hit the hillside hard. He
tumbled in a confused heap, pain exploding in his ankle as it was slammed
and pulled from the crevice between two rocks. He lay there gasping for
breath. He had this weird impulse to jump up and run, but the screaming
pain in his ankle told him otherwise. He could see the road from where
he lay; it was upside down from his vantage point. He prayed for a car
to come along soon. It shouldn't be too long, he thought, although he
often chose these early morning rides for their complete lack of cars.
Robin pulled himself
up on his arms and looked down at his legs. Still attached at least, he
smirked, realizing that his right arm was hurting as well. He tried wiggling
his toes, the left foot was fine, but wiggling his right foot sent fresh
bursts of pain. "Alrighty, I won't do that again." he hissed.
"I think it's safe to say that it's broken. I'll probably have to
wait for help to arrive." Fortunately, he was perfectly visible to
drivers, and his bike was half in the roadway; anyone coming by would
surely stop, or at least call him an ambulance.
As Robin tried to
assess the rest of his physical condition, he noticed the orange glow
of sunrise over the hills in the distance. This was both good and bad,
for daylight surely meant help would be coming, but it also meant that
he would be lying directly in the harsh California sun. He felt something
warm on his arm and realized that he was bleeding there. He pressed his
hand against it and figured it was probably only a surface cut, his ankle
seemed to be the only major body part out of service.
A telepathic call
for help to the universe was in order, he thought, although he believed
that when these events occurred a call for help would be issued automatically.
Still it seemed his request was answered almost instantly. From the bottom
of the hill he could here the distinctive sound of an engine moving along
the road.
From where he lay
on the hillside, Robin could see the old red pickup truck making its way
up the hill. He wanted to wave somehow, to flag it down, but there was
no real way for him to do that. He yelled out as it drove past, but the
driver never seemed to notice.
"Oh great,"
grumbled Robin. "This is going to be like the movie Jacob's Ladder,
where I'm really dead but I haven't realized it yet!" That didn't
make sense though, why would a ghost have a broken ankle? Robin had had
out-of-body experiences before (and momentarily wished he could have one
now) but he had never felt more in body in his life.
After what seemed
like an eternity of silence, (with the exception of a distant rooster
and the calling of some California quail) Robin decided that he would
have to try to rescue himself. If his bike still worked, he reasoned,
then he could lean on it and hobble up the hill and back into Tres Pinos;
from there he could call for help from the town's one payphone.
He pushed himself
up on his elbows and hands, he couldn't easily see below him, but it was
probably just scrubby plants for a couple of feet, and then highway. The
tough part would be getting vertical and trying to move his bicycle. He
pulled his body a little, and it wasn't as hard as he feared. Then his
right leg shifted the wrong way and the ensuing pain just sucked the strength
right out of him. He didn't know if he blacked out or if he simply hadn't
noticed but there were suddenly voices and the sound of a car door closing.
Somebody was telling him to stay still, and as much as he wanted to be
mad at the universe for taking so damn long, Robin was overcome with feelings
of relief and gratefulness.
"Easy there
son, I can help you." The upside down face was weathered and kindly,
belonging to a short, stocky man of about 60. In the distance he could
here the man's wife saying something.
"My leg,"
was all Robin could manage to say, even though his mind was racing with
thoughts to share with this kindly stranger.
"Yep, it's broken
alright. I can help you into the truck or you can wait for an ambulance
if you think your back is injured."
Back? Robin forgot
about spinal injuries, but he had already moved his neck and body so he
guessed that they were all right. "No, I think it's just my leg."
"Ellie, you
better come over here. It's going to take both of us to lift him."
"Do you want
me to pull the truck up?" She had a strong grandmotherly voice.
"Yeah, the less
this poor guy has to move the better. Pull the truck over here so that
the passenger side is facing him."
Robin watched the
truck move past where the man was standing, heard it make a u-turn and
pull up past the tumbled bicycle, near to where Robin lay.
"Bob, why don't
you put the bike in the truck first? This way we can drive straight to
the hospital."
"Is that okay
with you?" asked Bob.
"That would
be great, thanks." Robin managed.
Bob walked away to
get the bicycle and Robin got a much better view of the truck. It was
a large pickup, fairly new with a really quiet engine for its size. It
was white and shiny; Bob must take good care of it. Robin thought, I hope
I don't leave bloodstains.
Both Bob and Ellie
worked their way over to him now. "You take the right and I'll take
the left." said Bob. "Young fella, you try to get your good
foot under you was much as possible."
Robin was going to
protest that Bob should be on his right, injured side, but there was no
time. Working as one, Bob and Ellie swept him to his feet smoothly. His
ankle screamed, sending spots of color into his eyes, but he didn't black
out.
"Come on, you're
doing great." said Ellie.
Robin realized that
they had carried him to the entrance of the truck already.
"Swing your
good foot up now," said Bob, and Robin did that while Bob transferred
his weight into the seat as if he were a small child. Ellie slid her hands
down to his upper right leg, helping to guide it in as easily as possible.
Robin still saw stars
when his leg touched the floor of the car, but overall he didn't think
two EMT technicians could have done it better. He found himself sitting
next to Ellie as Bob decided to ride in the back.
"Thank you,"
said Robin "You two seemed like old pros at this."
"Well, we've
had our share of accidents on the ranch over the years. Whether it was
people or cows, there are certain things you just get used to doing, I
guess. You better hold on, I have to turn the truck around now."
She turned the truck
slowly, but since it was on the hill, Robin's weight shifted to the right
and sent another wave of pain up his leg.
"I'm Robin,"
he managed to say after a few minutes.
"Ellie Mckay.
Do you live in Hollister, Robin?"
"Yeah, I have
a house on Dublin St."
"If you can
give me the address, we'll drop your bike off there. Is there anyone we
can call for you?"
"I have a friend
you can call, she'll give me a hand," Jamie was Robin's ex-girlfriend
and he preferred it that way, but there was no one else nearby he could
rely on.
"Glad to do
it. What happened anyway?"
Robin felt a chill
travel through him, his leg had settled into a deep throbbing ache. "I
swerved to avoid a cat in the road."
"Oh dear. I
suppose it's better you didn't run it over, but what a shame!"
"Yeah,"
Robin tried to laugh but it came out like a grunt. "That cat has
one less life, that's for sure."
They pulled into
the hospital parking lot and Bob jumped out and jogged into the emergency
entrance. Moments later he came out with an aide and a wheelchair. They
walked up to the passenger side of the truck and Bob opened the door.
They helped Robin
into the chair and wheeled him into the emergency room, and got him onto
a bed in a curtain-partitioned room. After a few minutes a doctor came
into the room and asked a few quick questions about allergies. Then he
stepped out for a minute and came back with a couple of painkillers. Robin
swallowed them and hoped they would kick in soon.
"I'm Doctor
Ely. We're going to take x-rays of your leg. Then we'll put a splint on
you and schedule you for surgery to have it set. We're also going to give
you a tetanus shot in case any of those cuts picked up an infection."
The doctor cleaned up the cuts on Robin's arm with alcohol; the momentary
pain was almost as bad as his leg. Once bandaged, the cuts felt a great
deal better though - they settled into sort of a warm numbness.
"Doesn't my
leg have to be set right away? Won't it be deformed or something?"
"No, you have
about a week or so before something would need to be done."
The technicians came
in and wheeled him into x-ray. The x-ray room felt like a refrigerator.
As he lay under the equipment, Robin closed his eyes, secretly afraid
that the x-rays would damage them. After they finished the x-rays, they
took him to a recovery room and a nurse asked him if he wanted anything.
"Just a blanket,
I'm freezing."
She got him the blanket
although he didn't feel a whole lot better. He was vaguely nauseous, possibly
from the pills and his leg didn't exactly hurt, but felt really wrong.
There was no other way to describe it.
Robin focused on
his breathing to try and relax his body, but it just wasn't working. He
stared at the light switch on the wall for a focal point until another
woman walked into the room.
She was tall, about
5'10" and was dressed as if she sold real estate for a living. Her
dark hair was cut just below the shoulders, and she had a friendly smile,
an easy, disarming manner, and carried a large shoulder bag. Her age was
somewhere between, thirty-five and fifty, which really meant that Robin
had no clue.
"Hi, what brings
you to this place?"
"Broken leg."
Robin wondered if she was a volunteer or some kind of assistant.
"I'm Della;
I'm a healer. Would you like something for the pain?"
"Uh, sure. But
the doctor already gave me something."
She made a dismissive
gesture with her hand. "Don't worry about it. My stuff's better.
You'll have to tell me your name first though."
"Robin, Robin
Creari."
"Oh," she
said and paused as if praying for a moment. "You're my first Robin
of the season, so I had to make a wish."
"Um, are you
a doctor?"
"I told you,
I'm your healer, now drink this down completely." She handed Robin
what appeared to be a cup of water.
It was water, he
realized as he drank it down, but it was something else too. He felt warmth
flooding through his body as if his blood had started flowing again. His
leg was numbed, which was a big improvement over the earlier pain. He
opened his eyes and Della was gone. He called her name, but there was
no response. Moments later the nurse popped in, followed by Dr. Ely.
"Oh good, you're
awake." she sounded relieved. "I thought you had passed out
before."
"Where did Della
go?" Robin asked.
"Della?"
the nurse and Dr Ely looked at each other.
"Nobody's been
here besides me," said the nurse. "There have been no visitors
on the floor at all."
"But she was
here, she said she was a healer."
Dr. Ely made a slightly
disapproving face, but the nurse shook her head in negation.
"I think you
must have fallen asleep for a few minutes and dreamt it." said Dr
Ely. He put a thermometer in Robin's mouth. "Let's just get a temperature
to make sure you're not in shock."
Robin was going to
say it was the water that Della gave him, but the words just didn't want
to leave his throat. Whatever happened, he supposed, it was for him alone.
"If you're up
to eating, I'll have the kitchen send you some breakfast. We'll fit you
for the splint right after that."
"Sure."
said Robin, and except for his leg he was actually feeling pretty good.
Fifteen minutes later,
Robin was feigning interest in an alleged cheese omelet, a rather mushy,
tasteless hash brown and some warmish orange juice. When they arrived
to put the splint on, he was thrilled to have an excuse not to have to
eat that junk.
He feared the splint
would bring on a new round of pain, but it wasn't so bad. The hospital
also provided him some crutches, which a volunteer took for him. The volunteer
wheeled him outside to a pay phone and he tried Jamie's number. He only
got the answering machine so he left a message telling her that if she
weren't home he would get a cab instead.
"Robin!"
It was Jamie, she was coming down the hallway. Apparently, the McKays
had remembered to call him for her.
"I couldn't
visit because it was too early." She explained. "They told me
you would be released soon, so I figured I would wait for you."
"Thank you so much." Robin said. He had to admit she was lovely.
Tall, athletic build, blonde hair, everything you would expect of the
typical California girl. He sighed and reminded himself that he had broken
up with her, and this was not an avenue for getting back together.
"Those McKays
were the nicest people. You're lucky they're the ones that found you."
She took over pushing the wheelchair and started wheeling him towards
the exit."
"We still need
to get Mr. Creari's insurance information," said a woman coming from
behind them.
"Oh sorry,"
said Jamie, "I thought you would have finished those details earlier."
"I was in too
much pain." said Robin. He began filling out the forms. "I don't
have my insurance number or wallet with me." He explained to the
clerk, "I was on my bike when this happened."
"You can call
in the rest of the information later," said the clerk cheerfully.
"Are you going to have Dr. Ely set the bone?"
"Yeah, I guess.
I don't really have my own doctor."
The clerk went over
to another desk and got out a binder. "We can schedule you for Tuesday
at two o'clock. You should be here by twelve, and don't eat anything at
least twelve hours before."
"I'll make sure
of it." said Jamie. The clerk smiled at her knowingly, as if Robin
were some helpless child. Robin was starting to remember why he had broken
up with her.
Robin finished the
forms, and Jamie wheeled him out to the car. She was enjoying this all
too much, he thought. "Lets swing by McDonalds for some breakfast."
he said. "I'm starved."
Jamie made a repugnant
face. "I can make you a better breakfast than that."
"No thanks,
I'm hungry now and I don't have a lot to eat at home," he lied about
the last part.
She swerved the car
hard to get into the turning lane. "It's almost ten - they stop serving
breakfast at ten."
"Ten thirty," Robin corrected. They pulled up to the drive-thru
and placed the order without further debate.
"Thanks for
coming to get me." said Robin, "I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome,"
Jamie beamed. "How is your leg doing anyway?"
"It's not so
bad right now. When it first happened it was horrible." Robin recanted
the morning's events for her as they finished the drive to his house.
Helping him out of
the car, Jamie asked, "How are you going to take care of yourself?
You can't handle this alone."
Taking his first
awkward steps on crutches he grunted "I was thinking of hiring a
housekeeper for a few weeks. I can sleep on the main floor if you'll open
the couch bed for me."
"Sure, I'd be
willing to stay with you as well."
Robin felt like a
heel, how could he say no, and yet he knew where this was leading. "That
would be great." He said, pausing for breath, "but I can't ask
you to do everything, you have your own life to live."
"I don't mind
really." She opened the front door for him. "I can come over
after work and help out."
"Sure."
Robin had always thought crutches would be easy, they seemed that way
when you're a kid playing with them, but he had only been on these damn
things a few minutes and his underarms were killing him.
Jamie opened the
couch bed for him and helped him onto it. Although familiar, she fortunately
wasn't trying to be provocative, for which Robin was eternally grateful.
Robin's house was
clean by his standards. There was only one day's worth of dishes in the
sink. There was dust around, and books and computer catalogues scattered
about, but nothing really messy. Jamie got him a glass of water, and naturally
began straightening things up.
"Well, you've
been doing a little better than when I first met you." She said as
he settled into the bed. "I'm glad I had some sort of positive influence
on you."
He tried to work
up some sort of retort, but was asleep before any words could come out.
Robin found himself
in the ruins of an old temple, walking in a corridor past a cross section
to a large opening ahead. He held a flashlight in one hand, and a pistol
in the other. There were strange whispery noises in the corridors, but
every time he pointed his light in their direction, there was nothing
there.
He reached the opening
and stepped out. The room was huge. The walls rose hundreds of feet towards
an unseen ceiling. He heard a whooshing of air to his left and saw a large
pterodactyl descending on him. He fired his gun but it only clicked. He
dove back into the corridor from where he had come, and ran to the other
end, but a metal gate blocked escape at that end of the corridor.
Robin stopped at
the intersection and decided to go right. A few tentative steps led to
a horrific rumbling sound. Gasping, he turned and ran the other way. The
rumbling continued getting closer and closer….
He woke up suddenly,
sweating. His leg was throbbing again; it felt twice its normal size.
He glanced at the clock, he had been asleep less than an hour. "Jamie?"
he called. Maybe she left after he had fallen asleep, he hoped she left
his pain medication nearby.
Robin looked to the
lamp table on his left and saw both his pills, and a note. The note said:
"Gone out for groceries, be back soon." He groaned a bit, if
he had been awake he could have insisted she buy him some meat - Jamie
was an ardent vegetarian.
Thankfully, Jamie
had remembered to leave some water with the pills. Robin swallowed one
and hoped it would kick in quickly. Right now his leg was really more
than he could deal with.
He fumbled around
the table until he found the remote control. He flipped through channels
on the TV but couldn't concentrate on any one show. At least it, though,
was a distraction.
He clicked the remote again and happened upon Indiana Jones and the Last
Crusade and the dream came flooding back to him. He laughed, realizing
that the project he was so desperately trying to finish was an internet
game very much like Indiana Jones or Tomb Raider. This game could make
or break his boss Stanley and Stanley's failing company, Web Venture Games.
They needed a blockbuster if they were going to keep a presence on the
web. Arcade games had been done to death, so Stanley had raised the stakes.
"Let's make an online Tomb Raider!" Stanley said to the seven
programmers who made up his design team. They laughed at first, no game
that complex could be functionally feasible on the net, even with DSL
or a broad band internet connection.
However, with some
brainstorming sessions and a lot of junk food, an idea began to take shape.
It wouldn't be easy, and the game would definitely require DSL or its
equivalent to be played in real-time, but they found a way to make it
work. The team had been about two thirds done when the bottom fell out.
Web Venture Games
was not one of the first companies hit, but as the days went by and the
tech stocks plummeted, Web Venture Games went down with the rest. Stanley
had to lay off everyone in programming except Robin, and Robin took a
hit in pay as well. Robin had been the one who had worked out the key
to making one of the game's main characters, Sir Charles 'Rollicking'
Rollaway, cleverly animated and easily maneuverable, and since most everything
revolved around Sir Charles, Robin was the "lucky" one who still
had a job.
Of course, once the
layoffs hit, Robin had to try and finish everyone else's code and make
the damn game work. There were some major unexpected bugs, naturally.
For one thing, the game didn't work in one of the major browsers; it often
crashed for no explainable reason and occasionally the background graphics
just disappeared. And besides the technical issues, it galled Robin to
no end that only two out of the ten people in marketing had been laid
off.
Robin wondered how
Stanley would take the news of his broken leg. Robin had access to all
his files from home and would be able to work there, but pain would certainly
slow him down. He laughed as he thought of telling Stanley to finish the
work himself. Stanley was a decent programmer, but he hadn't touched a
bit of code in the last two years. He probably wouldn't take the news
well at all.
Looking over his
poor leg, Robin sighed and wondered what had happened to him over the
last two years. When he first moved out here everything seemed so full
of promise. The world was magical, the universe was responding to his
every wish, and following his joy seemed to be the easiest thing in the
world.
Somewhere along the
way, it all began to unravel. First were the layoffs, and the cut in pay.
Robin found it a challenge now to meet all his bills; living in California
was ridiculously expensive. And, aside from all the job pressure, serious
problems had developed with Jamie.
Robin had made a
lot of compromises in the relationship, he would do almost anything to
keep the peace, but Jamie had been domineering, constantly criticizing
Robin's habits, particularly his diet, insisting that he give up meat
and junk food. After sucking it up one too many times, Robin finally stood
his ground, and had decided that their relationship was causing him too
much stress to continue with it.
Jamie returned with the groceries, grumbling about the bag boy at the
supermarket. Robin didn't care. The pain was just starting to ease up
again, but he didn't feel like dealing with anyone's bitchiness.
"What did you
buy?"
"Mostly frozen
and canned foods, stuff you can heat easily when I'm not here. There's
frozen raviolis, cheese enchiladas, stuffed shells, and pasta primavera.
I also got orange juice and canned soups. I would have gotten some fresh
fruit but I was afraid you wouldn't eat it. "
"Thanks, that's
great." He knew better than to ask whether the raviolis were cheese
or beef. Robin actually preferred cheese ravioli, but he would want some
kind of meat in the next few days. At least he had hotdogs in the refrigerator.
"Anything else
I can get for ya?"
"Can you bring
me my contact lens solution? I really need to take my lenses out. Oh,
and could you pop a 'Star Trek - The Next Generation' tape in the VCR
for me?"
"Sure. I don't
know how you could stand that show, with that kid in it."
Robin smirked. Jamie
had never watched a whole episode in her life. She picked up on the anti-Wesley
Crusher movement somewhere and made that her whole reason for not watching.
"He's not in
all of them. Besides, I like Wesley!" With the exception of a couple
of early episodes, that was true. Probably because Wesley reminded Robin
of himself, intelligence-wise at least; only Wesley never had to deal
with being called 'Robin - the boy wonder.'
"I'm going to
go for now. I'll give you a call later and see if you need anything."
said Jamie.
"Thanks so much."
She smiled and leaned
over to kiss his forehead. "Feel better," she said and left.
Robin watched Star
Trek, and realized that the pain medications must be taking hold because
his leg pain was reduced to a dull throb again. The relief from the pain
reminded him of that woman Della - where had she come from? But he fell
asleep again before he could give the matter any more thought.
Robin found himself
on a horse, a pure white horse. He was wearing ringed mail armor with
a heavily padded shirt beneath, steel gauntlets and thick leather breeches.
He was riding along a wall composed of rough-hewn black stones and otherwise
surrounded by barren desert. The wall was at least a hundred feet high,
and stretched on forever both before him and behind him.
Robin knew that this
wall was the cause of all the desolation, and that it was up to him to
restore the land. It was imperative for Robin to get beyond the wall,
but as much as he searched, he could find no obvious way to do so. Robin
checked his gear and found neither rope nor climbing tools, or even a
shovel for digging a tunnel underneath.
Robin continued to
ride, hoping to find a gate or an opening, but when it became obvious
that there was none and would be none, frustration set in. He reached
to draw his sword but it was missing from its scabbard. He punched the
wall with his gauntlet; he didn't even scratch the stone. The wall was
impenetrable, yet he knew he must get through it. He scanned the barren
land for something to use as a ladder, but none of the husks of dead trees
or other scrap was large enough. The dream ended abruptly with the sound
of the phone ringing; slipping away from Robin's thoughts before he even
found the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Robin, it's
Stanley. Sorry to bother you on your day off, but I really need a favor.
I just got a call from Sam, the board is sending in an auditor tomorrow.
We have to get down there today and make sure everything is organized."
Robin laughed so
hard his stomach hurt. "Sorry Stanley, you're on your own. I broke
my leg this morning so I'm not going anywhere."
"You're kidding
me," Stan's voice was acrid. "Please tell me you're fucking
joking."
"Sorry. It's
real. I had an accident on the bike this morning."
"Shit, ahh shit,
I can't believe this…. All right, stay home, I'll go to the office.
But you better have a convincing fucking cast on your leg when you come
in on Monday!" Stanley slammed down the phone before Robin could
reply.
"Uh, yeah, I'm
fine, thanks for asking," Robin snarled into the dead receiver. "By
the way Stan, I won't be in for at least a week, just thought you'd want
to know, asshole!"
He hurled the phone
down on the mattress and then debated calling Stanley back to tell him
off. In the end, he decided that it really wasn't worth it. Stan was an
excitable person and would calm down and be all apologetic later - it
was just his way. At least I'll be able to do some of the work from home,
that'll keep him happy, Robin thought.
Robin shook his head
and sighed, his thoughts all over the place. He found himself wishing
he'd never left New York. At least there he had family who could help
him through tough times.
Robin's family consisted
mainly of his father and his Aunt Jeannie; Robin's mother had died when
he was four. His father raised him alone, with Aunt Jeannie, his father's
sister, helping out and watching Robin while his father was at work.
Robin's dad was an
accountant, and in many ways the king of all geeks. Tall, skinny, near-sighted,
a Star Trek fan, and a man who loved numbers and statistics - there was
nothing about Charles Creari that wasn't directly out of the mythical
nerd handbook. But he was a good dad. He was generous and joked often,
he took Robin lots of places as a kid, taught him how to read, and to
do math. There was only one thing his father did that always drove Robin
up the wall.
Batman and Robin,
that campy television show from the late sixties. Charles Creari loved
it, apparently enough to convince his beloved wife to name their first
born son, Robin. While he was quite young, Robin had never given his name
a second thought, not even when Dad had joked about their black Buick
Electra being the Batmobile. Once Robin entered elementary school though,
it was only a matter of time before someone started calling him 'the boy
wonder,' given his name and being one of the smartest kids in the class.
A fresh throb of
pain brought Robin back into the present. The whole room seemed different
somehow although he couldn't place what it was. Something definitely felt
'off', though. Or maybe, he thought, it was just the drugs.
His front door opened,
and the brightness of the afternoon sky outside made it hard to see who
it was coming in.
"Hello Robin.
I came by to see how you were feeling." It was that woman Della from
the hospital!
"Who are you?"
"I told you
before, I'm a healer." She had the same large tote bag with her,
which she began to unpack.
"How come the
doctor and nurse didn't know you?" Robin didn't feel threatened by
her presence, but he was extremely curious.
"Oh them,"
she made a dismissal motion with her hand. "They know me, they just
don't want to see me. Your leg is hurting again. Have another drink."
"What is this,
anyway?"
"It's just water,
nothing else. It has been energized with healing properties though, like
the Grail in the Indiana Jones movie."
"How did you
know I was watching that?"
"I didn't,"
she smiled. "I happened to be watching it myself earlier."
Robin felt that warmth
flow through his body as he drank and for a moment his leg actually felt
like its old self. There was the tiniest bit of relief there that cheered
him immeasurably.
"Don't worry
about your leg. It will heal just fine, as long as you start listening
to yourself."
"What do you
mean?" Robin felt a bit put off. "I thought I was pretty good
at following my inner voice."
"In some areas
you are, but in other areas you are not. It's those other areas that have
led you to this place," she pointed at his leg. "You might say
that there's a whole part of your being that you have walled off, to avoid
listening to it."
That sounded familiar
to Robin, but he couldn't remember why.
"Don't dwell
on it too much now. You'll have days to work this out while your physical
body recovers. Rest today and I'll be by again tomorrow to see how you're
feeling." She gathered up her things, repacked her tote bag, and
left. Robin let himself drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The room was dim
and dark when Robin woke up. Carefully, he stretched his body to turn
on the lamp. His watch said 10:34 - apparently he had slept about six
hours. He probably would have slept longer if it weren't for the pressure
on his bladder.
He slid his body
very slowly to the side of the bed and reached his crutches. His leg actually
didn't hurt too much at the moment. Gingerly, he put his legs down and,
using his left leg, stood up. Not bad, he thought as he moved toward the
bathroom. Could he pee standing up? He decided that he could as he made
it into the bathroom. A few seconds of teetering on his left foot made
him change his mind however. Turning in his tiny downstairs bathroom was
difficult with crutches, although he managed the entire operation successfully.
As Robin got up and
leaned on the sink for support, he got a look at himself in the mirror.
His normally red hair was brown and greasy, his face was pale and gaunt.
Seeing himself with his glasses rather than the now familiar contact lenses
reminded him all too much of his teenage self. Robin had been a skinny,
awkward bookworm, praised by his teachers and harassed by bullies. All
in all, Robin had been glad to leave that period of his life behind him.
How far away those
experiences seemed. By the time Robin graduated high school, he had began
to change his image for the better. He began exercising, at home in the
basement, when nobody was around. He was afraid of being laughed at, even
by his family. He got a job in the A&P supermarket as a stock boy.
Carrying boxes and restocking shelves did a lot for his physical stamina
and exercising his arms. He replaced his thick eyeglasses with contacts
so that by college time he looked very different from the high school
geek he had been.
During college, Robin
took a basic self-defense course, and after graduation he followed up
with years of Aikido and Tai Chi Chuan. It was during this time that he
began to explore his inner landscape as well. Martial arts had led him
to meditation, and meditation led him to philosophy and metaphysics. Writers
like Gary Zukov and Michael Talbot really appealed to Robin's scientific
mindset. Eventually Robin found himself reading channeled material as
well, and began practicing reality creation techniques for himself.
During this time,
Robin had worked for Allied Data Services, a major data processing company
in New York City. ADS performed a large amount of data processing services
for clients mainly in the financial center, particularly in the Equities
and Bond markets. ADS was the service most brokerages used to keep track
of their trades and customer databases. The work was steady, and the pay
wasn't bad, but Robin quickly found his job tedious and unfulfilling.
Charles Creari encouraged
Robin to stick with it: "In a company that large, who knows how far
you can go!" he had said. But Robin felt his best skills were going
to waste. There was no creativity in this job, it was just busywork, and
Robin wanted more.
At this point, Robin
had been itching to put his reality creation abilities to the test. He
began scanning the trade journals for recruiters, while envisioning a
job that would be both challenging and fulfilling. When he landed the
interview with Web Venture Games in California, he knew that he had found
his cosmic match.
Moving out of New
York City was a scary prospect, but it had also been one of Robin's long-term
goals as well. All of Robin's friends and family were in New York and
Robin often felt a little too protected being there. He wanted to experience
real independence, to develop his own sense of power.
Life in California
was so full of promise at first. Stanley had offered Robin a substantial
increase in salary, as well as paying for Robin's moving expenses. Robin
found himself buying a house, since rentals were ridiculously expensive
and hard to come by. The house was more than an hour's drive from his
job, but it was his own house just the same. He had also met Jamie one
day while on a bike ride. Jamie worked as a customer service rep for a
company near Robin's. She was not his first girlfriend, but she had certainly
become his most serious and intense relationship to date. So for a brief
time, Robin had really believed that he was powerful, a reality creator
extradenaire'. Quite a contrast between that and where he now found himself.
Robin's leg was throbbing
a bit, probably from the extra blood flowing through it now that he was
upright, but it wasn't hurting him all that much. I can handle this, he
thought, as he made his way back to the living room, he was almost feeling
good about the situation as he put his crutches down and lost his balance
while turning to get on the bed.
It seemed minor at
first, one of those little imbalances that any of us corrects unconsciously
with the other foot a hundred times a day. For Robin it was a disaster.
There was a sickening grinding noise when his right foot came down, what
was worse was that he felt that noise travel through him like a knife.
He wanted to scream, but only a small gasp of pain came out instead. He
maneuvered himself successfully on to the bed, but it was a clumsy maneuver
that only caused him more pain.
Robin reached over
for the pain pills. He panicked momentarily when he realized that his
water cup was empty. Next to the cup however was a one-liter bottle of
water that Jamie must have left for him. He didn't remember her being
so thoughtful in the past. He downed a pill with a gush of water, his
whole body still in a massive state of alarm.
He turned on the
television just to have something else to focus on again. He found an
old Twilight Zone episode where aliens manipulate an entire town into
tearing each other apart. Robin watched in dulled silence while he waited
for the pain pill to kick in. When it seemed that it wasn't going to work
he decided to take another. Finally, by the end of the episode his body
began to relax and the pain eased off. Before he could settle on another
channel, the second pill kicked in and he fell into a deep sleep.
Robin was riding
his horse again, along the same impassive wall. Once again he scanned
up and down its length as far as he could see. The wall was featureless
- no gates, no windows, just row after row of unending black stones stretching
out to infinity in both directions.
"This is impossible.
I can't beat this." Robin said. He checked over the rest of the horizon.
There were stunted, dead trees, and underbrush, but there was something
else, a slight glow or a reflection, he wasn't sure, but it had caught
his eye.
Robin turned his
horse away from the wall and towards the reflection, hoping that there
would be some clue out here about getting beyond the wall. The land around
him was dead, but it had obviously once been rich with trees and grasses.
Everything was dry and decaying now, perhaps the wall cut off some river
or other water source to this area.
He found he was headed
towards a large rocky outcropping that rose up from the ground. As he
neared it, he noticed that the surface appeared metallic, like some kind
of ore. Aside from the wall, it was the largest thing for miles. It stood
about seven feet high and sprawled out about ten feet. Robin examined
it closely; there was a single word carved deeply into the stone's metallic
surface:
P O W E R L E S S
"I certainly
am." Robin said, and the letters seemed to glow in response. He dismounted
his horse to study the rocky surface more closely. Whoever had carved
the letters into the stone must have been strong - the markings were very
sharp.
"Ouch! Damn
it!" Robin sliced his finger open as he ran it along the carved stone.
As he watched the blood well up, he found himself slipping into another
place entirely.
"Ow! Damn it!"
Robin yelled as his 13-year-old body was rattled by being hit in the back
with a football. He was back in Junior High School. More specifically,
he was in gym class. The period was ending and the kids were just "horsing
around."
"Watch the language
there, Mr. Creari." Mr. Kurgen, the gym teacher, snapped.
"Yeah, sorry
Robin. It was only an accident." Sal Matino grinned gleefully as
he offered the mock sentiment. He offered his hand, naturally crushing
Robin's as hard as he could with his grip.
"Cut it out!"
Robin pulled back his hand, naturally, the gym teacher was looking the
other way.
Robin was seething
as he walked faster and faster to get back to his locker for his books.
"Look at the
boy wonder go! I guess he refuses to change clothes so that we don't see
his costume!"
"You mean his
Underoos!" chimed in Sal's friend, Thomas.
A sickening rage
bubbled through Robin. He wanted so badly to turn around, to fight back,
and to tell everyone just to LEAVE HIM THE HELL ALONE! But he couldn't;
he didn't dare stand up to them. He was out-numbered and out-massed, and
it wasn't fair. The rage passed then, leaving him feeling weak and sick
to his stomach. He managed to reach his locker and retrieve his books
in relative safety.
Despite several threats
of being failed in gym class, Robin would never undress with the other
boys. He saw all too well the kind of mean pranks that they did to kids,
even if they had their shorts on under their long pants. The lockers had
no real supervision, and while they weren't big enough to stuff someone
in (thank God), there were all sorts of physical and mental abuse that
did go on.
Robin didn't care
if he failed. He was smart, and careful about his own survival. If he
was outnumbered in a fight (which he always seemed to be) then he would
run. Running was one thing he got good at over the years. He was one of
the fastest kids in the school and much faster than the bullies who constantly
taunted him. Running away burned him up inside however, it reminded him
too much of his father.
The world shifted
again and Robin was now staring directly at the ground, only a few inches
away. He was on his stomach, with Kurt Cheney's foot planted firmly on
his back while his winter coat had been pulled up over his arms. "Say
it!" Kurt commanded.
"No." Robin
wanted to yell, to break free, to get up and kick Kurt's ass, but he was
trapped and didn't know what to do. He kept hoping someone would turn
up and make Kurt get off but the street was unusually quiet on this cold
February afternoon.
"SAY IT!"
Kurt raised his foot and stomped it down on Robin's back.
Despite himself,
Robin began to cry. He was only eight years old, after all. "I am
Rob-bin, the boy wonder." Robin whispered, the sound barely came
out and apparently Kurt couldn't hear it through the crying.
"Say it, or
I'll kick you again, cry baby!"
"Hey! What's
going on over there! Get off him!" The voice belonged to Mrs. Navoy,
the block's nosiest neighbor. Robin was never so glad to see her in his
life.
"Uh, Robin fell.
I was just-"
"Just get out
of here, Cheney, before I tell your parents."
Robin wanted to run
away, but he was short on breath. He managed to get up on his feet, and
fix his coat. Mrs. Navoy pulled out a tissue and wiped his face a little
with strong, thick fingers.
"Why don't you
go home and rest for a while."
Robin nodded silently
and headed off for home. He was supposed to be going to the movies with
his friend Eddie, but he didn't want to now. He brushed off his father's
questions and went straight to his room. Once the door was closed he cried,
and the anger built inside him. He hated himself for his weakness. He
hated his name. In his mind's eye he could see a wave of molten lava smashing
and burning the whole neighborhood, reducing it to rubble.
The ringing of the
phone suddenly interrupted Robin's dream. Confused and disoriented, it
took him a second to remember everything. He felt around the bed for the
phone.
"Hello?"
"Where the hell
are you, Robin! It's ten o-clock!"
"Stanley? I
told you I broke my leg."
"You were fucking
serious?! I thought you just wanted the day off! SHIT! I can't believe
this. It sucks, Robin, it fucking sucks. I'll be lucky if we have a company
by the end of the day and you broke your fucking leg?"
"Calm down Stanley,
I'll be able to work from here in a day or so."
There was a long
sigh on the other end of the line. "Ok, well at least there's that.
Listen, I'm sorry for being such a son of a bitch, but you know I'm trying
to keep this place together. You get better, I'll call you tomorrow to
see how you're doing."
Robin put the phone
down, still exhausted. He had to go to the bathroom badly, but after last
night he was somewhat afraid to get out of the bed again. As he pulled
himself to the edge of the bed he saw a package of pop-tarts on the table
with a note:
You were sound asleep when I stopped by this morning
so I couldn't make you breakfast.
I'll call you later,
Jamie
Against his better
judgment, Robin felt touched by her note. The problem with Jamie was not
that she wasn't a caring person, it's that she was smothering. When they
were dating each other she had tried to dominate every part of Robin's
life. The biggest debates were over Robin's diet, Jamie had continually
pressured Robin to join her vegetarianism, and Robin was absolutely not
interested.
Robin made it back
and forth from the bathroom safely. Actually, his leg felt a hundred percent
better than he did the night before (providing he didn't bash it again).
He safely maneuvered back to the bed and decided to have the Pop Tarts
for breakfast.
As if on cue, the
phone rang again and it was Jamie.
"How are you
feeling?"
"Better, a lot
better than last night. I lost my balance and banged my bad leg."
"Oh Robin. You
should have called me, do you want to go back to the doctor?"
"No, really,
I'm ok. I took a painkiller and basically passed out. I guess I was still
out when you came in this morning."
"I thought you
looked weird, your energy seemed more drained than when I left you yesterday.
I think I should stay over tonight just in case you need help."
"No." Robin
said a bit too sharply. "I mean, that won't be necessary. Thanks
for the Pop Tarts by the way. I'm eating them now."
"I would have
preferred to give you something healthier, but that was all you had in
the house. If I pick you up some fruit, will you eat it?"
"Maybe some
bananas."
"What about
your dinner tonight?"
"If you'd like,"
Robin was mentally kicking himself for this, but he felt obligated to
Jamie for being so nice and a little guilty for being so harsh. "Why
don't you come over and we'll order Chinese?"
"Sure, I'd like
that."
"Cool. I'll
see you tonight."
"Bye."
"Bye,"
said Robin, and then added to himself, "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Robin,
what the hell are you doing? You know this is exactly what she wants!"
He tried not to think about it.
Television provided
no decent distractions, so Robin decided to try sitting at his computer.
Surprisingly, he found the task wasn't all that difficult. He stretched
his leg out underneath the desk so that it rested on his heel; he had
to adjust his normal posture a little, but not uncomfortably so.
Robin pulled up his
work files. The night before his bike crash he had written a few patches
into the game. He ran them now to see if they worked. He spent the next
two hours playing with the programming code, debugging as much as he could.
He only stopped when he realized that he was starving.
He made his way carefully
into the kitchen and searched for something to eat. Jamie had left a can
of vegetable soup on the counter along with a box of crackers. Robin felt
like something solid instead however, and he remembered that there were
some hotdogs in the refrigerator.
He opened the fridge
and reached down to the cold cuts drawer. Robin realized that his balance
here was a little precarious, so he slid a chair over instead and sat
down. Upon opening the drawer he discovered that it was empty. The hotdogs,
plus a pound of bacon he knew had been in there, were gone.
"Damn it, Jamie!"
Now he was kicking himself anew for inviting her over to dinner.
"Alright, what
else is here." Robin took out a jar of jelly and the milk container,
"at least she's not anti-dairy as well." Next Robin went over
to the counter and got the bread and peanut butter. Everything seemed
so much more effortful this way. Instead of trying to carry everything
back to his desk, he sat in the kitchen and ate in silence.
Robin spent the rest
of the afternoon in relative comfort, working on his computer and watching
television. His anger over the missing food was building however. Sure,
he had asked for her help, but who was she to make these kinds of decisions
for him without asking? He decided that when Jamie came over, he would
lay down the law about his refrigerator. HIS refrigerator. He felt guilty
and a little apprehensive about the fight he was anticipating. Robin realized
that he would rather hire outside help if he needed to rather then let
Jamie get away with this crap.
Jamie arrived about
6:30, with Chinese food and some more bags in tow. Robin had positioned
himself at the kitchen table, so that he wouldn't have to chase her after
she came in.
"Hi!" Jamie
glanced at him and her smile disappeared. "I know what you are going
to say," she said, "and you are absolutely one hundred percent
right. I had no right to throw out your food. I even went to the store
and replaced it. I also picked up a quarter pound of bologna and liverwurst.
It was really stupid of me. I was pissed off that you wanted McDonalds
over my cooking and my temper got the better of me. I'm really sorry Robin."
The tension drained
from Robin slowly and part of him had actually been looking forward to
lashing out at her. What could he say though? She made good on what she
had destroyed, and she apologized (a rarity to be sure), so he tried to
forget about it.
"I even remembered
to get Sweet and Sour Chicken." She said with a hopeful smile.
"Thank you,"
he said, managing a smile himself, "for all of it." Robin hated
to admit that she really could be a charmer when she wanted to. "Let's
eat, I'm starved."
Jamie smiled in relief,
"I'll get the plates and stuff. Do you want soda?"
"Of course."
Robin watched her moving with ease as she got out the plates and glasses.
Having a broken leg gives you a whole new perspective on the natural grace
of the human body.
Just as he was about
to take his first bite, the phone rang. Robin tried to signal Jamie not
to pick it up, but she was too quick.
"Hello…
oh hi Stan, its me Jamie. Robin's here, hold on."
"Yes Stanley."
Robin gripped the phone with all his strength, hoping to crush it like
an empty soda can.
"How's it going,
Robin? I got to tell you it was a rough day. The auditor was a real asshole
and the investors are not happy with things at all. They say we're too
slow, and we're over budget and they want me to shut the company down,
Robin."
"What? Come
on Stanley, we can get this project done."
"Maybe if you
hadn't broken your leg, you could have told them that, but without any
programmers here I couldn't really show them the kind of progress we made.
I explained to them that you had broken your leg, but they weren't very
sympathetic, I'm afraid."
"Um, Stanley,
you caught me in the middle of dinner here…."
"Okay, I'll
come right to the point. I scheduled a meeting for tomorrow. Do you think
that you could possibly make it in here? I'll send a limo to come out
and get you, or an ambulance if necessary."
"Tomorrow?"
Jamie waved her hands
and pointed at Robin's leg. "Surgery!" She whispered loudly.
"My surgery
is tomorrow Stanley. That's when they're setting the bones back in place."
"Shit. All right,
I'll see what I can do, talk to you tomorrow."
"If he calls
back, let the machine take it." Robin said after he hung up, turning
back to his meal. "The food is excellent by the way."
"It really is."
Jamie said through a mouthful. "I hope the vegetable fried rice was
okay, I didn't think we needed two separate orders of fried rice."
"That's fine,
but you just reminded me. I meant to treat you tonight for all the help
you've been giving me."
"Don't sweat
it. I'm happy to do it."
"I'm going to
have to ask your help with something else tonight."
"That's five
hundred dollars an hour, Shugah!" She wiggled her chest as she said,
it making both of them laugh.
"Actually, I
want to take a bath, and I don't think I can get in and out of the tub
alone." Robin absolutely hated needing help like this; even worse,
he knew how willing she would be.
"Of course,
hon," Jamie said. "I'm really glad you asked rather than risking
hurting your leg again. How is it feeling anyway?"
"Kind of a dull
throb mostly. It's not really bad when its elevated, but if it's on the
floor for a while it starts to hurt more." The word hon made Robin
flinch inwardly. He didn't want Jamie thinking along those lines and he
was starting to dread the rest of the upcoming evening.
Things went better,
however, than Robin had expected. Jamie ran his bath and helped him in
and out of the tub but didn't make a production out of it. She also cleaned
up the kitchen while he was bathing, and put fresh sheets on the bed.
"Wow, thanks
for everything tonight." Robin was back on the couch bed, with his
bad leg raised, and his good one still on the floor. Jamie was sitting
next to him, matching the angle of his body with her own.
"No problem,
just promise me you'll do the same if I break my leg." Her honey
blonde hair seemed be glowing in the lamplight.
"It's a deal."
Robin leaned over and kissed her, Jamie kissed him back softly, but then
got up to leave. "I better be going. Remember don't eat anything
tomorrow morning. I'll be here about 11 to drive you to the hospital."
"Good night."
Robin said, feeling both a little sad but relieved.
"Night."
She smiled at him and left.
"How stupid
am I anyway? This is EXACTLY what she wanted me to do!" Robin realized
for the first time in ages he was turned on. "Damn her, why the hell
did she have to be so hot anyway."
He sighed, and despite
being tired, he pulled himself over to the computer. He needed to get
more work done for Stanley. Robin had managed to stop the game from freezing,
and he had an idea as to why the backgrounds kept disappearing. If he
could get this done before his surgery, Stan's company would be saved.
Robin worked for
another two hours. He fixed one problem, but caused another, found his
error and then fixed the whole mess. With any luck he just might have
this game working before his surgery tomorrow. Exhausted, he decided that
it was time to call it a night.
He laid down on
the bed feeling completely wiped out. He thought about his leg, his job,
Jamie, his whole damned life. He felt trapped between a rock and a hard
place. Where was reality creation and inner guidance to help him now?
Robin could swear that he hadn't had a clear impulse for months. "How
the hell did it ever come to this?" he asked the ceiling.
*
* *
This
story is presented in two parts - click here to continue with Section Two.
© 2002, John J. McNally. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or distribute without
the author's permission.
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