Charlie finally dragged himself from the floor when he heard the janitor approaching from down the hall. He was feeling better now though, better than better he was feeling amazing even! Standing before the mirror, Charlie lifted his shirt to check for any injuries. He’d been expecting bruising at the least, but there was nothing. He looked the same as he did when he woke that morning. Charlie set to drying his hair with paper towels and ducked out the bathroom door just as the Janitor entered, not giving the man a chance to ask him why he was here so long after school had ended.

  Charlie shuffled down the sidewalk, alone, as the sun drifted across the sky. The roads were empty, save the occasional elder out for an afternoon drive. It was the sort of day most people spent in a rocking chair on the porch.

  You have to do something. He told himself. He couldn’t be the only person that Frank was doing this to. He had to do something about it. He found himself lost in thought. How come he hadn’t bruised? Why had he stopped hurting so quickly? Now that he was thinking about it, he could have died in that toilet! He’d swallowed water.

  Toilet water.

  Charlie clenched his fists as he tried to spit the taste off his lips. Frank made him drink toilet water, that wasn’t something that could ever be taken back. That was just the objective truth now, that Charlie Whitmore had drank toilet water. It wasn’t huge, but he NEEDED to get some kind of payback for that. You didn’t just get force fed toilet water and let bygones be bygones. Charlie offered a brief prayer of gratitude that the toilet had at least been flushed prior to his internment. He slowed, coming to a stop on the sidewalk. What was he supposed to do? If only he had the power. It wasn’t fair that he was so small, so weak. He couldn’t put on weight, he had no muscle. He didn’t stand a chance. In his anger, Charlie stomped.

  Toppling backwards, he fell onto his behind with a shout of surprise.

  The sidewalk had crumbled, a little puddle of dust and rubble beneath his ankle as he sat. Surely he’d just sent his foot down on something that was already damaged, but…how?

  Same way any pothole forms. He told himself. It couldn’t have been him, or there was no way Frank would’ve stopped him in the bathroom.

  Things would’ve gone differently, that was for sure.

  “Yeah…Crank.” He said, trying to come up with some kind of nickname. It wasn’t as good as Shitmore. Then there was Carly, of course.

  She’s his sister. She could stop this, she doesn’t want to.

  Something bitter in him spat as Charlie pushed himself back to his feet. He tried to drive those thoughts away from him.

  She knows what he’s doing. Everyone does. They just watch. They think it’s funny.

  He wasn’t thinking that. But then again, he was, wasn’t he? Or he wouldn’t be hearing it? It had to be him, it was in his head. But the words didn’t feel like they were his words, and it certainly didn’t sound like him. It was deep. Angry.

  How could she? The voice asked. How DARE she? She should regret that.

  Charlie’s stomach flipped. He wasn’t quite sure where that came from, and he wasn’t very fond of it.

  Still feeling fairly sick to his stomach, Charlie decided to go for a walk near the lake. Praying on the cliffside always seemed to set his heart at ease. It helped him to remember that nothing was going to last forever, no matter how it seemed. Charlie got a bit more excited as he drew in on the lake. It was later in the year, so he doubted there would be many people out there if there was anyone.

  You DESERVE to be angry. Make them stop.

  “Even if I wanted to, I can’t!” He replied, a little too loud. Mr. Gunderson stopped watering his wife’s petunias just long enough to give him an ‘Are you insane?’ look.

  He waved to Mr. Gunderson.

  “Sorry! Just…thinking out loud!” He laughed, before speed-walking away, head down with his hands in his pockets.

  A bike bell rang, and Charlie nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “Where were you, man?” Tyler asked, skidding his bike to a stop. He was on his sister’s pink bike, wearing his older brother’s varsity jacket and a cowboy hat that sat way too low on his brow. His jeans were scuffed and muddy, like he’d been running.

  Frank. The voice whispered.

  “I…I just got kinda sick.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

  “You were off that bus like the flash, man, I mean ZOOM!” He mimed Charlie’s running with his hand. “Frank seemed pretty pissed though, you good?”

  “Yeah.” Charlie nodded, but he didn’t meet his friend’s eyes.

  “You’re a bad liar, Charlie. You look like you saw a ghost.”

  “Well, I dunno. I just feel…weird…today.” Charlie shrugged.

  “Where ya goin?” Tyler asked, beginning to pedal alongside Charlie as he started to walk again.

  “Out to the lake.” Charlie cast his eyes at the retreating sun, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Just needed some alone time, I guess.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Tyler nodded. “Just some time for the guys.”

  Charlie couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Tyler could be clueless.

  As they got closer to the lake, Tyler was able to ease his worries. He told him about everything he missed, including pizza for lunch, and about how Sean McConners got suspended on his first day back for giving weed to another student.

  A Drug dealer in our school? Charlie wondered. He was astonished. What would Superman do? Well, Sean was pretty young. Superman would probably just talk to him, Charlie figured. If Charlie had that kind of power, he decided, he’d try to talk to people too. Most people would probably change, he thought, if they had someone to talk to.

  Lake Sterling, so cleverly named after the town, was small. Its waters were often placid, and of a deep, nearly black, hue. There were not many fish in the lake, and those that were there were only perhaps large enough to feed a single person. Nestled in among the beeches, oaks, and elms, Lake Sterling was known to everyone as a party spot for as far back as Charlie’s dad’s time in school. He wagered it was probably a well known spot when his father was a kid too. Maybe when his grandfather was a child, but that seemed like quite a long time ago. Lakeside parties simply did not seem like a 1940s activity to Charlie. They were probably busier with the war, he figured. Captain America had certainly been pretty busy with the war. Of course the captain wasn’t real, but sometimes Charlie imagined that he was, and that the two of them were fighting Hydra together. He realized that Tyler was trying to speak to him.

  “Earth to Charles!” Tyler shouted.

  Charlie, are you really going to let him call you that? He knows you hate that.

  He’s just trying to get my attention. Charlie shook off the voice again.

  “Sorry, got a bit distracted.” Charlie said. “What were you saying?”

  “I was wondering if you had any money. I got five dollars and Carly had three. If we pool our money we might be able to get into the drive-in.” He said.

  Charlie rifled through his pockets, and managed to draw four dollars, two nickels and a dime.

  As they trudged past the lake and up the incline to the jump-cliff, Charlie kept his eye on the water.

  “Burger King?” He suggested, his eyes on the black sheet of water. It’d be an easy thing, to slip.

  “Sure.” Tyler agreed as they reached the summit of The Jump Cliff. Charlie stooped to the mud, scooping up a rock. It was mostly flat and wide. He knew there was no chance of it skipping, but part of him just wanted to see those peaceful waters disturbed.

  Charlie let loose with the rock. Tyler paused to watch the rock on its final journey. But it kept going farther! Ten feet, then twenty, then thirty, forty, his jaw dropping with every foot the stone traveled. The two of them watched the stone slam into the water’s surface, expecting it to be submerged, but defying all logic the stone bounced back up, skipping across the surface of the water, once, twice, a third time, until it vanished into the reeds on the far shore.

  Tyler didn’t speak, his jaw just dropped. For a few minutes, they stared at the far shore in silence.

  “Charlie, how did you do that?” Tyler finally asked.

  “I….I don’t know!” He exclaimed. His heart could’ve stopped, his head was spinning.

  “Dude, you must’ve practiced that all summer!” Tyler ran his hands through his hair. “That was crazy!”

  “No!” Charlie denied. “I didn’t, I mean…I couldn’t!”

  “Throw another one!” Tyler grinned.

  Charlie raised his eyebrow.

  “We gotta see if that was some kinda freak accident man! You could play for the big leagues! You could be the next Babe Ruth!”

  Charlie thought Tyler was thinking small. The sickness earlier, his increase in speed, and that floaty feeling that hadn’t quite left him yet…something was going on. He wasn’t quite sure what, but something was happening. Tyler was on the right track though.

  Charlie dug around in the soil for another rock of appropriate size. He reared back, holding it like a football, before letting loose. They watched the little gray cannonball soar over the lake at the speed of a bullet, snapping a small tree in half on the other side. Now it was Charlie’s turn to go slack jawed.

  “Dude!” Tyler was jumping in excitement now. “Dude, oh my God, dude!”

  Your prayers have been answered. The voice said smugly. He could hear the grin in its voice. Whatever it was, it seemed to be correct though. He did pray for the power to stop Frank.

  Imagine that rock hitting Frank like that. The voice said. He didn’t want to, but Charlie found the image of Frank’s face, crushed by the force of the stone flying into it at some hundred miles per hour or so, exploded, his skull reduced to a powder.

  Charlie almost puked, stepping back from the ledge.

  “Dude!” Tyler shouted. “That was…how!?”

  “I don’t know!” Charlie said.

  But that was a lie. Charlie knew now. He had super-powers. He prayed for strength, and it was starting to seem like he had it. He threw a few discarded beer bottles next, shattering them on the far shore. With each throw, their excitement grew.

  Their reverie was interrupted by the crunch of tires on gravel, and the angry chugging of an old truck. Charlie’s stomach flipped as Frank’s truck dragged itself up the incline and into view.

  It rumbled up the hill like some kind of great blue monster. Frank was engrossed in a conversation with Earl, who was more focused on how close the truck was to the edge of the road. Mr. Gunderson’s grandson, Louis, sat with a kid Charlie recognized from church in the bed of the truck. Ralph was the boy’s name.

  Charlie never had a problem with Ralph or Louis in the past, but Frank was their friend- and they’d probably do a lot for their friend.

  “Oh, come on…” Tyler groaned. When Frank’s eyes returned to the road, they locked on Charlie. The truck swung away from the ledge, pulling over.

  Louis and Ralph shared a look as Earl said something to Frank from the front seat. Frank shooed him off, hopping out of the truck with a practiced ease.

  “Ooooh, getting some alone time huh?” Frank teased.

  “Who knows what they’re getting up to out here!” Louis laughed.

  Charlie turned over his shoulder. The path lead some way behind them, into a lightly wooded area. But the only way down was the road.

  “Shut up, man.” Tyler looked past the truck, down the hill. There wasn’t any running from this.

  Earl hopped out of the passenger seat as Louis and Ralph followed suit to back up their leader.

  “Frank, c’mon man.” Earl said, glancing back in the direction of town.

  “Wasn’t earlier enough?”

  “He’s still walkin, ain't he?” Frank asked.

  Ralph closed in, smirking.

  “Who’s this little greaseball?” Ralph asked, even though Charlie was certain Ralph remembered him. It kind of stung even. Ralph was so much nicer at Sunday School.

  “This is that little creep I told you about, one who was stalkin’ my sister.” Frank said.

  Charlie was becoming very aware of how outmatched they were here.

  Outmatched? Remember who you are?

  “I’m not a stalker!” Charlie objected, planting his feet.

  “Can’t you just mind your own business?” Tyler was trying to sound intimidating, but Frank had three years and about fifty pounds on him.

  “Can’t you? I’m just trying to protect my little sister.” Frank said, shoving Charlie. The shove was hard. A day ago it probably would’ve sent him onto his back, sprawled out in the mud. But today was a different day, and Charlie felt like a different boy. Not a boy, a young man.

  The shove was nothing, Charlie didn’t fall. He stepped back, keeping his balance. He could see something faint and strange in Frank’s eyes, something unfamiliar. Frank, caught off guard, drew his fists up. The others seemed to think he just hadn’t shoved Charlie too hard.

  “Man, cut it out!” Tyler stepped forward, but Louis grabbed him by one arm, and Ralph by the other.

  “C’mon, guys, isn’t this a bit much?” Earl asked.

  “Shut up!” Frank spat at him.

  Tyler struggled against his captors, but it was useless.

  Charlie, you’re strong now. Prove it! Prove it! Show him who’s really in charge!

  “So what if I do like her?” Charlie asked. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

  He had enough time to register how stupid Earl thought that was. Frank’s fist connected with Charlie’s jaw. It was like nothing, like being hit with a rubber ball.

  “Really Frankie? That’s it? You’re getting soft.” Charlie taunted, trying to sound tough.

  Unfortunately for Charlie, he was still only about eighty pounds. Frank picked him up in both arms and began to carry him towards the ledge. Kicking and shoving, he tried desperately to get free, but no matter how close he got to escape, the wrestling champ kept him in some form of lock. He took him closer and closer to the edge.

  “How about a long drop so you can think about how fucking dumb you are Shitmore? Then, if you don’t drown, maybe you’ll remember your place?”

  “Just fuck off!” Tyler shouted, and Ralph punched him in the gut.

  Earl shoved Ralph, and a new argument broke out as Frank brought him to the edge of the Jump Cliff. It was a clean shot forty feet down to the dark waters of Lake Sterling. He tried not to look.

  Frank was dangling him out over the ledge now, as his legs kicked uselessly against open air.

  “You know how to swim, Shitmore? I sure hope so!” Frank said in a cheery voice.

  Don’t look down! Don’t look down! JUST DON’T-

  But Charlie did look down, and he almost puked. Forty feet up seems so much farther than forty feet away.

  * * *

  Earl crossed the dirt towards Frank. What had happened in the bathroom was already far, but this was over the line.

  “What the hell happened to you Frank? What did this kid even do?”

  “You saw how-”

  “Not about Carly, cuz you’ve had it out for him since he first started going here.” Earl cut him off. “Drop him!”

  “Poor choice of words.” Frank grinned, opening his arms. Charlie’s eyes went wide as he dropped.

  Before Earl fully understood what he was doing, he’d taken a step forwards and punched Frank so hard he nearly followed Charlie over the ledge. Louis released Tyler in his shock, the younger boy dashed to the edge of the cliff, leaning over to spot his falling friend. Ralph had already scrambled into the back of the pickup.

  “Guys, guys we gotta go!” He shrieked from the truck bed, trying to hide himself among the 12 packs of beer.

  Louis grabbed Earl by the arm. While he turned to face Louis, Frank punched Earl hard in the stomach.

  Just as the two of them began to tussle, they both realized that Charlie had been falling for far too long. Tyler wasn’t speaking, his jaw hung loose.

  “What is it?” Frank asked, looking back towards the ledge, suddenly a look of worry etched across his face.

  “What, did he hit a rock or a branch or something?” Earl almost thought he heard genuine worry edge its way into Frank’s voice as he and Louis stepped towards the ledge, almost in sync.

  First they saw his head. Followed by his shoulder and torso. He was wobbling, shaking to the left and right the way a hummingbird flits about around a flower, with significantly less grace. Charlie flew a good ten feet above the ledge, hovering out of Frank’s grasp.

  For a moment, the entire forest was silent. Nobody moved, nobody spoke.

  * * *

  Charlie was flying, he was really flying!

  I’m like Superman! I’m just like Superman! A grin slowly etched itself into Charlie’s face. He smiled so hard his cheeks hurt.

  I’m the strongest person here, now. Charlie realized.

  Charlie tried to lower himself gracefully towards the edge, but instead he wound up dive-bombing straight into Louis, sending him cascading into the truck with a thump. He hit the truck so hard he left a permanent dent! Groaning, Louis slumped to the ground.

  Frank sent a kick towards Charlie but he caught him clumsily by the ankle. Charlie began to spin, Frank hopped on one leg to keep his balance. Charlie spun and released, flinging Frank over the front of his truck. Just to prove his point, Charlie slammed his fist into the truck inches from Frank’s leg. Metal gave way, and Charlie’s arm sank to its wrist in the metal. His smile grew wider as the truck was slid five feet across the gravel and soil. Charlie drew back, admiring the black hole in the truck. If he caught the light right, he could see the engine within.

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  “You…you…you fucking freak!” Frank shouted at him. “I’ll get the cops on you! My dad knows the sheriff!” Louis dragged himself into the back of the truck with the cowering Ralph. Earl was frozen, eyes stuck on the floating form of Charlie Whitmore. He clenched his fists and said in the calmest, coolest voice that Earl had ever heard the child muster-

  “Who would believe you, Frank?”

  In the Burger King, Charlie, Tyler, and Carly were sharing some fries and milkshakes purchased with their pooled money.

  “So…what happened?” Carly asked again. Charlie had provided them the least embarrassing version of events possible. He left out the fight in the bathroom, and how Frank had been able to just throw him off the cliff. Tyler, thankfully, did not dispute his version of the cliff story. He’d left the voice out of his story too. He didn’t think it’d help anything.

  “Well, we got into a fight on the cliff.” Tyler shrugged. “I would’ve been dead meat if it weren't for Charlie.”

  “I just…I’m sorry.” Carly scratched the back of her neck. “I’ve never seen him be like that.” She sounded almost sick.

  She’s lying. The Voice whispered.

  She’d never. Charlie insisted, taking a bite of his fries to put his mind onto something else. The food was…alright. It tasted better a few days ago, now there was something distinctly fake about it. Plastic. Maybe it was just this batch of fries. As he pushed another salty, ketchup drenched, fry into his mouth, Francine asked him to recount the past few weeks again. He did, this time a little more exasperated. Nothing interesting had happened. He had prayed for the power to stop Frank.

  “You think God made you Superman?” Tyler asked.

  “I didn’t say that!” Charlie snapped. “Sorry….” He said, taking a drink of his milkshake.

  “Well…we have to track down the source of it then.” Carly sounded skeptical. “There has to be some kind of cause.”

  “Maybe I’m an alien?” Charlie wondered.

  “What, like a Kryptonian? Or a Martian?” Tyler laughed.

  “You got any better ideas?” Charlie retorted.

  “Yeah. You’re a government weapon and you broke out of their lab.”

  “I think I’d remember something like that.” Charlie took a longer drink of the milkshake as he settled back in the booth. The power DID have to come from somewhere, Carly was right. He found himself watching her a little more closely this meal. Her eyes especially. He’d never noticed how bright of a blue they were.

  “So… an alien, or maybe some kind of government cyborg?”

  “Maybe you’re some kind of adaptation? A mutant?”

  I like that one.

  Charlie’s current hypothesis was that his mother and father must have adopted him after he crashed to Earth from space. He supposed he might just be some sort of mutant, but that wasn’t quite as interesting in his head so he was going to investigate the Alien idea first.

  As they made it back towards his place, some several hours later than he’d told his father he was going to be home, Charlie knew he was probably going to be in a bit of trouble. Thankfully, his father’s truck was gone- so any punishments could wait for later. While his father was gone though, Tyler, Carly, and he had determined that if he was from outer-space, that there must be some kind of evidence of it somewhere on the farm. Some kind of shuttle, or a space-suit, or some other sci-fi technology that would make everything clear in an instant. Charlie was already trying to put his “origin story” together in his head. What was he going to be telling reporters in a few years once he was saving the world in a few years?

  Crouching in the corn field, they devised their plan. Tyler would check the garage for any signs of alien heritage. Charlie’s mom was friendly with the Krugers,and Charlie didn’t want to risk getting grounded before he found evidence of his past, so he would take the barn while Carly took the basement. They’d all meet back here in half an hour to discuss their findings.

  Tyler tried to stay low, but Charlie thought the hat made him too easy to spot. He briefly considered trying to get Tyler to take the hat off, but he doubted he could. Before Charlie could say anything to Carly, she was gone too. He was on his own.

  Darting across the lawn, clinging to the oak trees like some kind of boy-sized beetle, Charlie made his way across the property, trying his best to move like a spy. The big brown barn loomed in the distance. As he got closer, the voice started to speak.

  He threw you over the ledge. Why didn’t you toss Frank off?

  “What if he drowned?” Charlie asked.

  So what if he drowned?

  “Well think of what that would do to his mom!” Charlie said as he squeezed between the slightly ajar doors of the barn. Charlie’s worst fears had manifested. His father had done his chores while he was gone, he was definitely going to be grounded when his father got home.

  Can Superman get grounded?

  “I’m not Superman.” Charlie shrugged, but now that he was thinking about it he already knew he was going to go flying tonight. Maybe he could even sway Carly over.

  Frank’s right, you do like her, don’t you?

  “What?” Charlie asked. “We don’t have time for this.”

  We? It's a different person now? You’re going crazy.

  “I…well I shouldn’t.” Charlie shrugged.

  Well, why shouldn’t you? She’s a pretty girl. She wouldn’t speak to you if you did not at least entertain her.

  “She was my tutor.” Charlie kicked a scuffed board.

  Was. She has no obligation anymore. Superman has Lois Lane. Might you have Carly Kruger?

  Carly. She was smart, and funny. And she didn’t outright call him insane for claiming he had superpowers. Maybe it would be nice to go flying with her. He liked the way her name sounded when he said it, so he said it to himself a few more times before he realized how weird that would look to someone observing him, so he shut up.

  “Focus.” He told himself. He wasn’t in here to think, he was here to act. He needed to investigate, and find the proof of his heritage.

  Charlie searched the barn head to toe as best he could. In all the barrels of loose tools, under the old car his father occasionally spent time on. He even dragged his dad’s big red tool-shelf out from the wall when he was searching for secret doors! The thing was about as tall as Charlie. He didn’t used to be able to move the tool-shelf, so he allowed himself a moment to be proud. But he didn’t find anything odd, not in the stalls, not under the floorboards, not in the loft and not behind the tool-shelf. Absolutely nothing.

  By the end of it, he wasn’t tired, but he was frustrated. Slipping back out the front of the barn, Charlie leaned against the door and allowed the sun to warm him.

  Back in the corn field, it was the same thing from Tyler and Carly. Nothing out of the ordinary. No sign of any alien escape pods or government documents or super serums or anything of the sort. Just the same sort of stuff anyone kept in a garage, basement, or barn.

  But Charlie realized there was somewhere they hadn’t checked.

  “The attic!” He gasped, slapping a palm to his face. It was obvious. He had been forbidden from entering it, and he hadn’t even considered it as an area to search.

  You’re too obedient.

  He ignored the voice.

  “The attic?” Carly questioned.

  “Yeah, I’m not allowed up in the attic!” Charlie enthused. “He must’ve wanted to hide my past so I could live a normal life!”

  Tyler nodded in agreement. Carly knit her brow, frowning. She eyed him cautiously for a moment. The sun caught her hair richly, it almost seemed to glow.

  “Well, there’s not really time to search it now. The sun’s going down.”

  “Yeah, I gotta get home soon.” Tyler agreed.

  They’d made a pact not to tell anyone about what Charlie could do, to preserve his secret identity. When his father got back, Charlie had to endure a lecture about being on time, and how important a man’s word and commitment was. In the end, he ate no dinner and sat in his room, on his bed, barely able to contain his excitement. In his head, he went over what he planned to do over and over and over. He’d realized that he hadn’t really shown Carly that he had powers. She’d been occupying his thoughts since she left, and he couldn’t quite place way. He wanted to speak to her.

  Go talk to her.

  “Well, even if I did, I dunno if she’d even…” He realized he wasn’t even sure what he didn’t think she’d do.

  Feel the same?

  “I don’t…”

  But that wasn’t exactly true. Whenever he thought about her, he felt a little sick in his stomach. Not in a bad way, though. It was a feeling he simultaneously hated and desired. Something like watching a horror movie, or sitting on the edge of a roof.

  She would. I mean, look at you. You can fly, you can punch holes in trucks. You’re Superman, who wouldn’t?

  Charlie paced from his bed to his window, then back.

  “I’m grounded.” Charlie said, biting his lip nervously. “I can’t.”

  You can. You can go, you can make her tell you.

  “I’d….Superman would never threaten Lois Lane.”

  Your name isn’t Clark, is it, Charlie?

  “If you don’t stop acting like this, I’m going to ignore you!”

  You think you can? I’ll make you regret that, Shitmore!

  Anger flashed in Charlie and he clenched his fists.

  “You don’t get to call me that!” He snarled.

  Oh, so you do have a spine? What are you gonna do about it?

  Charlie wasn’t quite sure what he’d do about it. It wasn’t like he could make the voice stop doing anything, it was just a voice after all.

  “Well…I’ll play loud music all the time so I can’t even hear you!” Charlie replied, nodding. That would do the trick, certainly.

  Oh no, not the loud music! The Voice mocked. Please. You need me.

  “What for?” Charlie asked.

  The Voice sighed in his head. He wasn’t quite sure how, but he could feel the Voice thinking.

  We don’t need to be enemies Charlie, in fact I think we could be friends.

  The Voice was sounding kinder now, softer. Its deep baritone reminded him somewhat of his grandpa.

  I can show you how to use those powers. You just need to let me take the steering wheel sometimes.

  Charlie didn’t like the sound of that. Not much at all.

  “Why can’t you just tell me?”

  How am I supposed to explain how to fly, or shoot lasers out of your eyes? Just let me give you the muscle memory to do it yourself.

  “I can shoot lasers out of my eyes!?” Charlie asked, and before he even considered the ramifications of such an action, he tried to shoot said lasers from his eyes.

  Thankfully for everyone in the house, it did not work.

  Focus!

  “Sorry.” Charlie suddenly felt a little like a scolded toddler. The Voice continued.

  I can teach you how to get everything you’ve ever wanted. You wanna be Superman? Play boy scout? Sure, we can do that. I can teach you how to protect yourself, and others. Just…sometimes, when you really need to, just take a break. Let me handle things.

  “I don’t want to kill anything.” Charlie whispered, though he wasn’t sure why he felt he needed to be quiet.

  Then I won’t kill anything.

  “Promise?” Charlie asked.

  I promise I won’t kill anything. The Voice said sweetly.

  “What are you anyway?” Charlie asked.

  Think of me as your guardian angel.

  “You seem kinda angry for an angel.” Charlie said, sounding more nervous than he intended to.

  Doesn’t God get angry at the Devil? The Voice asked.

  “I guess so.” Charlie replied, but he wasn’t sure it was the same thing. God never called anyone Shitmore in the Bible. The words of the Voice were sweet, but sweet like syrup, not sweet like an apple, a delicious artificial sweetness that Charlie had heard in his mother’s voice when she was talking to other women at Church that she secretly didn’t like very much.

  “How can I trust you?” Charlie asked.

  Cuz we’re in the same body. Whatever happens to you, happens to me.

  “I guess that’s true.” Charlie thought aloud.

  Course it’s true. The Voice said. Haven’t you always wanted a brother anyhow? We’re like brothers Charlie? Charlie and Charles, isn’t that nice?

  “Your name is Charles?” Charlie asked, feeling himself smile a little. What were the odds that whatever this thing was shared his name? For a moment he wondered if he was going insane. If the powers were real though, why couldn’t the voice be? Surely he didn’t imagine being thrown over a cliff. He didn’t imagine the distance of the water below, or the way the wind rushed around him when Frank let him drop. He didn’t imagine the free-fall, where he wondered if he was about to die.

  You know he doesn’t only do that to you. You have the ability to be a hero tonight. Just like you always wanted.

  Charlie looked over at the clock.

  10:49 PM

  Charlie felt possessed of a sudden urge, so he stood, crossed the shaggy carpet to his window, and took a second to look over at his wall. Superman stood, staring back at him from the poster. Hands on his hips in a heroic stance, gazing into the distance as if visualizing some far off utopian future.

  “For Truth, Justice, and the American way.” Charlie said, lifting the window and climbing out onto the roof. He half crawled half jumped up the roof to the flagpole, using it to brace himself as he looked out across the field.

  If you let me take over, I’ll just get all the boring stuff out of the way.

  “No..” Charlie said warily. “I should at least try some of them on my own. My dad’s always going on about hard work.”

  What are you going to do if you break something?

  “I don’t think I will.” Charlie said, taking a few steps back for a running start before he thundered across the roof and over the edge. For a few brief moments he plummeted towards the ground, but just like he expected, some sort of impulse stopped him. He was mid air again. Looking to the left and the right, Charlie managed to fly up, higher and higher into the night skies. Blue, speckled with stars like snowflakes on a flower.

  Charlie looked out across Sterling Springs. The town looked even smaller than it felt from up here, but it was also pretty. A little jewel of golden light buried in the forests. The cornfields stretched out around the town, flaxen fields of swaying stalks beautiful in their own right. A yellow ocean, speckled here and there with old barns like sentinels.

  As Charlie dove and started to fly over the buildings he found it surprisingly easy to control where he was going. It was sort of wobbly, but generally speaking wherever he moved his shoulders, the rest of the body would follow. Flying over the down-town area, he watched the cars work their way past the old brick and mortar buildings.

  Charlie gave a barrel roll as he darted through the sky. He couldn’t help but laugh, the wind washed over him. It was the most refreshing feeling he’d never had. Like a thousand cups of ice water on the hottest day of the year. He passed over the town square, the little patch of grass in its center capped with a Gazebo. Louis and Ralph were out late, smoking in the Gazebo. Charlie waved the scent away from his nose, it didn’t smell much like a cigarette to him. He weaved his way through the Victorian houses near the park at the center of town. Finally, he came across the blue two story that Frank and his family called home. Charlie noted with a grin that Frank’s truck was gone as he worked his way around to the rear of the house. He wasn’t sure which room was Carly’s and the idea of accidentally waking her father terrified him.

  Still not able to stop on command, Charlie realized by the third lap around the house that he was going to need to crash into something to slow down. Luckily, by the fourth, he had identified Carly’s window as the one on the furthest right of the rear wall. He grabbed the window sill as he flew past the building, nearly tearing the wood from the wall, but it served to slow him down. He clung to it the way he would the side of a swimming pool when he was tired as he slowly built up the courage to knock on the window.

  Kid, what are you so scared of? You’re Superman now! You could have anything you want, and I mean that.

  Charlie felt a little braver at Charles’ words, and he lifted his hand.

  Reaching out towards the window, he gently knocked.

  For several terrifying seconds, there was no answer. But he heard someone rise, he heard the covers fall off the person as they stood up. Charlie’s hearing had become so acute that he could hear her parents sleeping in the other room, and if he really focused, their hearts beating. The window opened slowly, cautiously, and then he saw her.

  Carly Kruger was as beautiful tired as she was wide awake, Charlie knew that from the moment they locked eyes. She blinked sleep away, her eyes darting around. She looked at him and the ground, the open air, back to him, then the ground again.

  “Charlie?” She asked.

  He nodded pridefully. Her brown hair was short, and though it was messy, the moonlight made it look like liquid chocolate. Her blue eyes were gleaming with surprise as she started to fully realize what it was she was looking at. Charlie Whitmore was flying right outside her window.

  “Charlie…what are you? How are you doing that?” she asked, taking a step back.

  “Well I jumped off the roof.” Charlie explained “But I can’t really control it quite yet, could you help me into your room? I’m scared I’ll float off if I let go of the window.”

  Carly took his hands in hers and guided him gently into the room. He was still floating, shoulders brushing the ceiling like a lost balloon, until she pulled him down low enough for him to hang onto her bedpost. He hoped this would get easier with time.

  “Charlie, you jumped off the roof?” Carly asked.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “You haven’t been telling me everything, Charlie.” He hated the hurt in her voice.

  Charlie didn’t give Charles time to voice his opinion, he just started to tell Carly what she wanted to know.