Chapter Six: The Fox Talks

After detention Patrick invited me over to his house to spend the weekend. He lived just down the street from me so my mom agreed to let me go. Patrick had a nice house that sat quietly on the outskirts of Tradius. His house was about the same size as my house but it had a certain system to it which I really enjoyed. After saying my goodbyes and recieving the standard "be on your best behavior" lecture, I left for the Fox's house. The first step out of my front door revealed a scene beautiful enough to be featured on the cover of a post card. Tradius was a small town, but not in the cliche "everyone knows your name" sense. Our town was made of small, well built, family owned buildings and as long as you didn't draw attention to yourself, you would be accepted. I stopped for a moment infront of Patrick's house. The house's facade featured a concrete porch and two stone pillars that loyally held the rest of the house in place. The curvy, black driveway led around the side of the brick building to a garage, which led into the house's basement. The sun was just setting by the time I stepped through the threshold of the old house's front door. I was immediatly greeted by Patrick's mom and dad. I really liked to be around Mr. Fox. It seemed like he was almost never home, so when he was the entire family took on a certain happiness that was very contagious. I thought about what happened during math class that day with Patrick and I couldn't wait until I had opprotunity to speak with him privately about it. That would have to wait though because as soon as we got to his house, his mom had dinner on the table and the interigation began. How was your day, what did you do, where did you go, what are you guys doing tonight, did you read this artical in the paper, Patrick did you take up the trash, do you like what we had for dinner, did you get enough to eat, did you bring everything your going to need for this weekend, and so many more questions! It was 8:30 before Patrick and I were able to escape his parents and make it to the safe haevan that was his basement. There were two big leather chairs, a big T.V, all kinds of action figures, and baseball decorations lined the walls. We ran down the stairs and plopped down in the chairs. Patrick started with "How did you do that thing in class today?" then I told him everything, the feeling, the communication with Stephanie, how the feeling worked, I had never talked to anyone about the meditation before because I was afraid of what people would think about me, but Patrick sat and listened to the entire story. "So have you been able to move anything yet?"he asked. I told him what happened during detention and how horrible I felt about it.

"Tim, your my best friend, and I'm not trying to be an ass here, but I don't how I can believe that, you have to admit, you sound like a crazy person!" he said

"I don't know how to prove it to you, last time I tried to move something, somebody got hurt, I just don't know if I'm willing to take that chance again. I'd feel terrible if I did something that even accidently hurt you."

Patrick thought for a long time time. Atleast it seemed like a long time, in all actuality it was probably only a couple of minutes, but I was so anxious to hear what he had to say time slowed down for me. He was sitting perfectly still with a confused look on his face. Still wearing the blue "Life is Good" T-shirt and blue jeans he had on in school that day. Usually Patrick's only weakness was that he talked too much, but at this point he seemed at a loss for words. After what seemed an eternity his expression changed.

"I've got it!" he exclaimed.

"What?" I said

"You said that during that feeling, you can feel everything that's in the room with you right?"

I responded in the affirmative and he told me close my eyes. Patrick's idea was brilliant, he scoured his house top to bottom and found 5 different metal figures that were around the same size. He had a star, a bird, a ball, a cube, and an old pewter army man. I would put myself in a trans, he would hold up one of the objects, I would tell him it was without looking and that would prove that I could do what I said I could do. After a few hours of playing that game he seemed convinced. I was really happy to finally have someone that I could talk to about what was happening to me. The clock struck midnight and we found ourself sitting on the blue carpeting in his basement playing with action figures.

"You gonna have to learn to move stuff eventually" he blurted out

"What, why?" I inquired

"Come on, its obvious, your like a superhero or something! You have to learn how to move stuff if your ever going to do anyone any good."

He got up and went to his bedroom. When he came back he was holding a stack of old X-Men comics.

"See this guy? He moves stuff with his mind and people love him!" he said exciditly.

"Well there's not really a manuel for doing this Patrick. I mean I have no idea where I could even start! I know I would have to be having the feeling to be able to move anything, I just don't know what I have to do once I start."

Patrick set his action figure down next to him. He looked around himself for a moment before picking up the pewter army man.

"Try to move this" he said calmly

"Are you nuts? Do you like having that hand?" I asked.

"It's different Tim, you hated DeeJay but you and me are friends. When you explained that feeling to me you told me how it changes based on your mood. Right now we're completely calm, we're in a safe place, what could go wrong?"

I was completely dumbfounded. I couldn't believe Patrick actually wanted me to try this again. Not only that he wanted me to try, but that he trusted me enough to put his own life on the line to prove that I could do anything. I started to sweat. I didn't want to do this and I tried to think of any reason possible that I shouldn't, but I knew Patrick would combat any awnser I gave him other than yes. The feeling already started. It was just Patrick and I in a colorless room. I could feel that Patrick's heart was racing as fast as mine was. I had no problem feeling the army man resting gently on Patrick's open palm but moving it was entirely different. The army man stood about an inch tall, but to me it was a mountain. Trying to move the army man felt like pushing as hard as I could against a wall. It was physically exhausting, I found I was actually breaking a sweat by thinking so hard. Just when I thought I couldn't push the figure any harder, something finally gave in. Patrick's jaw dropped and I could feel the goosebumps start from the back of his neck and move their way down his spine. Levitating a few cenimeters above his hand, the army man was floating, unsupported and heavier than anything I had ever lifted. After a few seconds, I set the figure back down then blacked out.