3.92
“Get up,” Sampson
keeps kicking at Isaac. “Wake the fuck up,” he finally tips the bed causing
Isaac to roll onto the floor.
I can’t
help but laugh as Isaac remains asleep as Simon gets more and more flustered.
He resorts to holding Isaac’s nose until he’s coughing and fighting back. Not
the best way to wake up but it gets him up. I’m sure Sampson holds his nose a
little longer just to get back at him.
“What was
all that for,” Isaac asks shielding his face from the sun shining in.
“I’ve been
trying to wake you up for twenty minutes.”
“So what?
It’s not like we’ve got anything to do.”
“Trial of
connection, you missed the little chat sleeping in,” I add.
“What’s the
deal?”
“Get your
ass packed and downstairs,” Sampson says.
“Packed for
what?”
“If you had
been awake you’d know. Take a quick shower too. You smell like a fucking wino,”
Sampson slams the door behind him.
I fill
Isaac in on what I know so far. We’re going on a trip to New Orleans. I’m not excited
to be heading back, I’m just hoping we take a different route. I’m going to use
the chance to see if anyone is still looking for me. The actual trial, I don’t
know exactly what it’s going to be. I know we’re heading up there to do
something with just Sampson. He’s going to be the one who judges us, so it’s
best to stay on his good side. Well Isis said the trials don’t really mean
anything for me, but I could help make sure Isaac passes.
I head
downstairs and spot Sampson heading out with a duffel bag in each hand. I
follow him, without speaking but walking heavy enough that he knows I’m
following him. We make our way out to Michael’s garage. One of the huge doors
is already open.
“Wait
here,” Sampson tells me.
I hear the
sound of him opening and slamming doors on a car before it starting it up. He
comes back out and inspects me visually for some reason.
“You didn’t
bring anything?”
“Magic,” I
tap my head.
“That shit
is convenient.”
“What kind
of magic can you do?
“Originally,
strength.”
“Like The
Bible.”
“Yeah, like
The Bible. Parents named me after Samson in The Bible, but they weren’t really
religious. That’s why my name has a “p” in it.”
“What kind
of magic you got now?”
“Step
back,” he waves his hand for me to move.
“You don’t
need to show me.”
“Nah,
haven’t done it in while. This is good practice, might need it in the city,” he
smiles and bites down on his tongue.
I watch as
Samson takes deep breaths and swallows the air, choking it down. For a moment
it looks like he’s choking, but waves me off when I approach. He smiles and
leans back puffing out his cheeks with joy in his eyes. I can feel the air
around us heating up before he does anything. Samson blows a small blue flame
from his lips slowly it grows until there’s a massive pyre flowing from his
mouth without stop. I’m amazed at his flame control when he starts to blow
various shapes before finally stopping at a purple flame. As he spreads his
arms waiting for applause I realize this is how Destiny lit the sword on fire.
I’m guessing he taught her the trick, because she never did anything this
impressive. They really were in love.
“Glad to
see you’ve still got it. Was starting to think our dragon was just an empty
cigarette lighter,” Michael comments having come out the garage to watch.
“Yeah,
remind me to stop pissing you off,” Isaac comments from behind giant
sunglasses.
“That was,
amazing, no I don’t have a word to describe how cool it was,” is all I can
piece together. I’m actually jealous he shared something like that with
Destiny. I know I shouldn’t be jealous over something that has no real bearing
on our relationship. Destiny isn’t even alive right now and I’m upset they
shared something I didn’t know about. I never asked her how she learned to spit
fire, and now that I know I’m upset as if I’m going to lose her to another guy,
and I can’t even lose her. I find myself rubbing my wedding band as if I’m
trying to remind myself I won the competition in my mind.
“Well,
since we’re all showing tricks, what do you two do,” Michael points at Isaac
and I.
“Magic
storage, interdimensional pocket, haven’t settled on a name yet,” I answer.
“Just watch.”
I start to
pull a few things out, my laptop, a book, a first aid kid, then I put it all
back. Nothing nearly as impressive as what Sampson had just done. I shrug when
I’m done. Michael calls it practical, which is fair. That’s what is.
“I can turn
into a cat,” Isaac says bluntly.
“You going
to demonstrate,” I ask.
“I don’t
feel like it.”
“Too
hungover,” I joke.
“No, I can
do it.”
“Hold off
on that,” Sampson intervenes. “It’s a small show when he transforms. Takes a
long time and he ends up naked.”
This sets
off a chain of laughter, “fuck all of you,” Isaac yells. “Really, all of you
can go to Hell.”
“Relax,
shape shifting is cool. Just spare us the little show,” Sampson laughs.
“I’m
perfectly average,” Isaac yells and gets flustered.
Isaac toss
his bag down on the and starts to jump around as if he’s preparing for a fight.
He stops, paces bag and forth. We all just laugh even harder. Next, he takes off
his shirt and pounds on his chest. We stop laughing as Sampson motions for us
to calm down. For a moment Isaac’s skin starts to turn to a reddish hue before
hair starts to sprout. As he shrinks we lose sight of him in his pants. Soon a
small black cat pops up licking at it’s paws. I guess he can turn into a cat.
He paws at the pile of clothes and drags off his underwear to the garage.
“Fuck all
of you,” Isaac says as he puts on the rest of his clothes.
“Michael,
you’re last. What you got,” I ask causing Sampson to laugh even harder than he
did at Isaac.
“I can
levitate,” Michael says proudly.
“That boy
floats a whole six inches off the ground. He don’t even float fast. We don’t
need to see that shit.”
“Your car
is ready,” Michael says clearly irritated.
“I know you
weren’t laughing at me and all you do is float,” Isaac says with a twisted
grin. “Like, I’m working on turning into other animals and all you got is
floating?”
“Before we
go, here are the rules. No eating in the car, no sleeping in the car, no farting
in the car, if your breath stinks you can’t speak in the car. Don’t slam my
doors and you can’t be in the car without me,” Sampson starts to list his
rules. This is going to be a horrible trip.
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