A Heroic Beginning

Chapter 8

Sam had been in the hospital for a week. It took him a couple days for the soreness that pervaded his body to subside. The doctors were amazed that he had escaped the blast with as little damage as he did. In fact, to the best of their knowledge, there had been no real damage. They kept him the entire week as a precautionary measure, but after continuous observation, with no health problems detected, they felt comfortable releasing him.

Upon returning home, however, his parents spared no time in releasing their anger. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but it was only a night’s worth of yelling. Sam knew his parents well enough to just sit back and take the thrashing and not give honest answers in return. What they really needed to do was vent and he allowed them their time to do so. His mother later told him, when he was in bed, that they were proud of him for going back for Brian Wells, but they were still angry at him for putting himself in that kind of danger. He was grateful that they were proud of him, but it didn’t make the grounding any more fun. He wasn’t shocked, though. He knew that they couldn’t let him off with just a tongue thrashing.

Sleep afforded little relief. Ever since he had woken up in the hospital, it had been difficult to sleep, just two or three hours of sleep each night. Sam wrote that off to the hospital. With the countless machines beeping and buzzing, it was a miracle that any of the patients got any sleep. However, his insomnia persisted in his own bed. Did the tree limbs outside his house have to make so much noise with every gust of wind? And what was it with all the cars at night? Did every muffler suddenly go bad when he was away?

The screeching of the alarm was more than enough to snap Sam out of his half sleep. Sam switched it off and made his way to the bathroom. Grabbing his bedroom doorknob, he was surprised that it came off in his hand after giving it a twist. Sam was too tired to give it much notice.

With a lot more delicacy, he inserted the knob back in the door and pulled it open. Staggering down the hall to the bathroom, Sam made his way inside and closed the door. WHAM! Sam did a double take as he looked back at the shuttered door.

“That was loud.” Sam thought to himself, but everything had been loud recently. He deduced that it was nerves or fatigue.

“What was that? Sam, did you slam the door?” his mother called from down the hall. So Sam wasn’t imagining things. Apparently, his mother heard the door slam as well.

“Sorry mom, I guess I gave the door a little more oomph than normal.”

“That’s all it better be. We don’t need any more outbursts from you, especially today.”

Sam shook his head and opened the shower curtain. He reached in and twisted the hot water knob and it also broke off.

“What the hell?” That made two knobs broken in less than 5 minutes and now there was no hot water.

“I guess it’s just my day,” Sam said sarcastically. With much more finesse, Sam twisted the shower knob for the cold water and to his great relief, it did not come off. Instead Sam received the great delight of having a cold shower. The water was indeed cold, but his body barely responded, which was another strange thing to Sam.

Scrubbing his body quickly, Sam picked up the shampoo container. He flipped open the lid and gave the container a squeeze. The front end of the container exploded, spraying foamy liquid all across the shower tiles and the base of the tub.

“Really?”

Sam managed to get some shampoo on his hand and successfully washed his hair without further incident. Stepping out of the shower, he quickly dried off and stood in front of the bathroom mirror preparing to apply his deodorant. What he saw caused him to freeze.

For a moment, Sam thought he was looking at another person, not human, but an ancient Greek god. Every muscle in his body seemed to be chiseled out of marble, perfectly formed and defined. This was not his body, it couldn’t be. The body he remembered was about 5-fee-t11 and a little on the heavy side. The body he stared at now had no traces of fat, just rippling perfection.

He looked down at his arms. Any flab that had been there now was solid muscle. Flexing in the mirror, he gave his left bicep a squeeze. There was give, but it still felt different.

He dropped his towel. He saw his legs, lean and tight. It was as if someone had sculpted a new body out of clay and had bequeathed it to him. He hadn’t bulked up, though, which, after a few moments reflection, is why nobody except Sam had noticed the change until now. The doctors and nurses who examined him probably just thought he was in really good shape. His parents, sister, and the friends who had visited him only saw him in a hospital gown, looking the same as ever. Sam only noticed now because it was the first real look he had of himself.

“Maybe hospital food really is good for you,” Sam joked to himself.

The morning, which was only 15 minutes old, had definitely gotten off to a weird start and Sam didn’t want to think about anything else except dealing with his principal, who in all likelihood would be his ex-principal after tonight. Retreiving his toothbrush and some toothpaste, Sam turned the faucet on. Clink. Another knob came off in his hand.

“Oh come on! This is getting ridiculous.”

Sam was now really exasperated. He asked himself if everything in this house decided to stop working when he was at the hospital. Sam was gentler to the other knob and he brushed his teeth with warm water, or at least he attempted to do so. Unscrewing the cap of his toothpaste, he gave it a squeeze and it also exploded, sending toothpaste everywhere.

“Son of a bitch,” Sam said a little too loudly.

A voice came through the door “What was that, Sam?”

“Uh, nothing, Mom.”

Sam quickly cleaned up the toothpaste and put a little of it on his toothbrush, which broke halfway through brushing. Sam just groaned and finished brushing with his right index finger. Spitting, he then cupped his hands and gargled with some warm water.

Sam wrapped his towel around his waist and then moved to leave the bathroom. Another doorknob busted. He looked down at the knob, back at the door, and then back down to the knob. He didn’t say anything. He just shook his head. If he hadn’t miraculously survived a massive explosion, he would have thought he was jinxed.

Doing the same trick he had performed in his bedroom, he exited the bathroom and returned to his room, where he closed the door gently, lest he incur the wrath of his parents. Throwing his towel over his desk chair, he quickly put on some underwear and undershirt, and some white socks. He slid on a pull-over shirt, grabbed some jeans from the closet, and heard a most unwelcome rip. He removed the pants and examined them; there was a tear in the crotch.

Sam discarded the jeans and put on another pair. This time a bit more slowly. There was no rip but he yanked off the fly when zipping up. He discarded this pair of jeans and grabbed another. He put them on slowly, and went even slower when he zipped them. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, but then he noticed that his pants had started to sag. He thought back to the bathroom. His legs had become leaner and his waist was a bit smaller. No wonder they were sagging. Grabbing a belt from his closet, he looped it through his jeans, but right before he could fasten the belt, he heard something snap and he felt the once-taught belt sag in his hands. Grabbing both ends, he pulled off the belt and gave it a quick examination.

Sam was just plain angry now and it didn’t help that the targets of his anger were inanimate objects. But as soon as the anger appeared, Sam collected himself, took a few deep breaths and grabbed a second belt. With much more care, he looped this belt and gently clasped it. After slipping into his shoes, which did not break when he tied them, he made his way out of his room.

Taking care to gently turn the doorknob, he opened the door and left the room. He heard his father’s voice call from downstairs.

“Sam, get down here.”

“I’m coming right now, Dad.”

Sam briskly made his way to the staircase, too briskly, as the staircase whizzed by him in a blur and he walked right into the closet at the far end of the hall. The door was open so he didn’t crash through the door, but he did hit the wall with a thud.

“Sam, what was that? Stop messing around up there.”

“Yeah, it was nothing. I’m just grabbing something. I’m coming.”

Walking a bit more slowly, he made his way downstairs.

“Sam, what’s with the slamming? Your father and I are in no mood for tantrums, you’re already in enough trouble as it is.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“You’d better be on your best behavior tonight. The school has half a mind to expel you. If you act up, you’ll make their decision rather easy,” Sam’s father said.

“But Dad…I…”

“Want to make it another two weeks? I don’t want to hear anything else from you right now. I’m going to work now. I’ll be back to pick up you and your mother before the disciplinary meeting. Don’t give your mother any grief.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“See you later, honey.”

Sam’s father kissed his wife and left. Sam heard him mutter, “First Serena, now Sam. Can’t I raise kids with a minimum of drama?”

That comment stung Sam, but he sympathized with his father. After Serena’s episodes and now this, the man had to deal with a lot. His mother turned to him, “Would you mind helping me in the yard, Sam?”

Sam knew it wasn’t a request and headed outside.