Heaven can wait
Jim Steinman--Heaven Can Wait
"Hi Uncle Hank," Kyle called out, coming into the kitchen. "Is it your night to cook?"
Hank looked down at him. "Yes, it is. Pity everyone tonight. I think there will be a run on Rolaids at the all night drug store later on tonight."
"Cut it out!" Kyle said, laughing. "I'm sure whatever you're making will be fine. Can I help?"
"Ah, such confidence in my abilities," Hank commented, tousling Kyle's hair. "Lets see if you feel the same way after you eat."
"I'm sure I will." Kyle had complete faith in Uncle Hank and nothing was going to shake it. "So, can I help?" he asked again.
"Perhaps you can," Hank said thoughtfully. "Tell me, Kyle, are you any good at making a tossed salad?"
"I don't know," Kyle answered honestly, "But I have a feeling I can toss with the best of 'em."
Hank grinned. "You're too young to be telling bad jokes."
"I have good teachers," Kyle quipped back.
"Hm..." was Hank's only comment, as he pulled the lettuce, and other salad things out from the refrigerator.
It took less than a minute for Hank to find the large wooden salad bowl, a knife, and an acrylic cutting board. He pulled a chair over to the counter and scooped Kyle up to stand on it. "Boy, I'm short for thirteen," Kyle commented. "Are you sure I'm thirteen?"
"Not exactly," Hank admitted. "But your height really wasn't as much of a determination as other things. Children often vary in height and rate of maturity. Don't worry, just because you are not extremely tall now, doesn't mean you won't grow when you get older. I have known of several boys who were on the short side until they were sixteen, seventeen years old. Then they sprouted up to over six feet tall."
"Like who?" Kyle asked, studying Hank's expression to see if he was teasing him.
"Well, Warren told me he wasn't the tallest person in the world when he was your age," Hank told him. "And look at him now."
"Really?"
"Really," Hank confirmed. I only hope I'm right, he thought to himself. Or, if I'm not that Kyle doesn't question him. The untruth I told the boy may not have been very ethical, but if it makes him feel better, is it really wrong?
Kyle started shredding lettuce, confident now that he was not doomed to a life of short stature.
Kyle finished with the salad at the same time Hank finished with the rest of the meal. "Done!" he called out cheerfully.
"What timing!" Hank said. "Why don't you go put it on the table and I'll let everyone know it's dinner time."
"Okay," Kyle said. He climbed off the chair and picked up the salad bowl. Turning, he started to carry it in the dinning room. Hank watched him, smiling.
He had just walked through the dining room doors, when Hank heard the scream. Dropping the pan he was holding onto the stove, Hank ran into the dining room. "Oh my..." he began.
Kyle was standing in the dining room, his body on fire. "Uncle Henry!" he shouted.
"Kyle!" Hank rushed over, not knowing quite what to do.
"Don't touch me!" Kyle screamed, backing off. "I don't know what this is!"
"Kyle, what happened!?" Hank shouted, ignoring his words and coming over to him.
"I DON'T KNOW!" Kyle screamed. "BUT MAKE IT STOP!"
Not knowing quite what he should do, Hank grabbed a pitcher of water from the table and threw it on Kyle. There was a long, hissing noise and the fire went out. "Kyle!"
"Uncle Henry!" Mindless of the water dripping from him, he threw his arms around Hank, bursting into tears.
"Kyle, are you all right?" Hank hugged him back, then drew away from him. "Let me check..."
"I'm fine!" Kyle said, choking back his tears.
"Let me be the judge of that," Hank said, studying him.
The child had been on fire, but there wasn't a single burn on his entire body.
Hank rubbed his eyes, reaching for the cup of coffee on his desk. Empty, he thought as he looked inside of it. Time for another cup.
Rising from the desk, he took his cup and went into the kitchen. Even though the kitchen was dark, he could see the red glow from the On button on the coffee maker. He didn't even bother to turn on the light, but padded his way over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. He was about to turn and leave the kitchen when the light suddenly came on, blinding him for a moment. "What the..."
"Hello old friend,"
"Oh my stars...." Hank blinked, steadying himself and his coffee cup. "Warren, you frightened me. Do you always make it a practice to indulge in intoxicating beverages at four in the morning, in the dark?"
Warren shrugged, taking a sip of the dark brown liquid in the glass mug in front of him. "Since when has iced coffee been an intoxicating beverage?" he queried. "Unless, of course, you scientists have discovered that caffeine is a dangerous narcotic."
"Well, it is highly addictive," Hank said, taking a sip from his own coffee cup and joining his friend at the table. "And from a distance, iced coffee in a smoked light glass bears an uncanny resemblance to Beck's Dark."
"Ah, but I've even got you there," Warren said, the faint trace of a smile on his face. "This is decaffienated iced coffee." He pointed to Henry's cup. "Somehow, I doubt what you're drinking is also."
"Right on that. I found a stash of that black road tar stuff Remy likes to drink in the morning and made the pot at double strength." Hank's grin was wry. "This stuff is probably more dangerous than washing down six Dexatrim with Jolt Cola."
"Wouldn't it just be easier to take a No-doze?" Warren suggested.
"Ah, but I do so love the taste," Hank said, taking another gulp and grimacing as the bitter coffee washed over his taste buds.
Warren snorted at his friends expression and took another sip from his own drink. "Amazing how just a little bit of sugar make this a lot more palatable."
"True." Hank looked over at him. "So what is keeping you awake on this warm summer night?"
"Betsy and I went out tonight," Warren said, giving his friend a wry grin. "The date was far from successful."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Hank said. "Anything seriously wrong?"
Warren shook his head. "Minor differences in opinions. It will all blow over tonight." He looked at Hank and smiled. "Remember when we were kids? Dating seemed so much easier."
"Perhaps for you," Hank murmured.
"A successful date was hinged on one thing," Warren continued. "And that was whether or not you got to first base."
"I would have been happy just to get to bat," Hank joked back.
Warren smiled. "I don't think I even made it to the park, tonight." He walked over to the refrigerator and poured himself another glass of iced coffee. "But that's besides the point. Betsy and I will talk tomorrow and work it out. That's all part of being an 'adult.'"
"Now, old friend," he returned to the table and sat down. "Suppose you tell me why you're up so late."
Hank sighed. "Well..."
"No," Warren interrupted. "Let me guess. Kyle."
Hank nodded. "I've been over the test results I took before the incident this evening and I've been over the results from after the incident and I can't figure it out."
"Figure what out?" Warren asked. "And please, Hank, remember I'm not quite at the intellectual/scientific level you are at. Phrasing it in plain English would be nice."
"Nothing seems to have changed," Hank explained. "Kyle is the same kid he was before he went bursting into flames, except..."
"Except?" Warren prompted him.
"Except that he now has a new set of brain waves," Hank continued. "The type of brain waves that would indicate a mutant power such as he demonstrated this evening."
"Well, that would make sense wouldn't it?" Warren asked. "Obviously this is a new ability he didn't even know he had."
"On the surface, yes, it makes perfect sense," Hank admitted. "But the scans and waves I did indicate this power is very highly developed. If I had just met him today and didn't know him, I would swear Kyle has had this ability for at least a year and has been learning how to control it. I thought at first that it was is psi abilities that had 'turned' off the fire, but it wasn't. It was a self defense mechanism built into the ability. An off switch so to speak."
"Well, isn't that good?" Warren queried. "Shouldn't an ability like that have an on/off switch?"
"Yes, but in the case of Kyle, it isn't necessary." Hank rose from his chair and returned to the coffee pot for another cup of coffee. "His high level physic abilities should be more than enough to control this fire...ability. And something else bothers me also..."
"What is that?"
His psychic abilities....his telepathy... the brain waves are subsiding a bit. Very little, in fact, if it wasn't for the advanced equipment we have, I'd never have been able to tell at all, but they are subsiding." He sat down again.
"Are you saying...." Warren began.
"That Kyle is losing his psychic abilities?" Hank finished. "It's too early to tell, but he might be."
Warren looked at Hank. The worry and fear his friend was feeling was evident in his expressions, his eyes. "Is Kyle going to be all right?" he asked, softly.
"So far I see no indications that he shouldn't be," Hank said. "Even if his psychic abilities are fading, the worst that would happen, as far as I can tell, is that the boy would become 'normal.'"
"But you're still worried." Warren reached out and put his hand on Hank's shoulder.
"Yes," Hank said, quietly.
"You love him very much, don't you?" It was said more as a statement than a question.
Hank looked down at the kitchen table, studying it as though the wood could somehow give him the answer. "Yes I do," he finally said, looking up from the table. "I don't know what it is about Kyle, but he touches my heart, my soul. He's the son I never thought I'd have."
"That's the problem with love," Warren said with a wry grin. "It always makes it so hard to think logically."
Hank smiled weakly. "If that isn't the truth, Warren, I don't know what is."