“I can’t just start fighting. Someone has got to piss me off!” He looked around the room, not really daring them to do so, merely stating a fact. He sensed that something was different about this situation. He’d not seen one straight jacket or taser yet…
The Asian kid seemed nice enough. He spoke well and while not dressed well, he was clean and well groomed, except for the shaggy, spiky mess of black hair that bristled from the top of his head.
The “back room” had been cleared except for sawhorses and weight bags and other assorted training gear. Some of it was set up as if it were an obstacle course.
“Really? You can’t just turn it on
and off?”
“Hell no, OD.”
“Quit calling me that.”
“Everybody else said that’s what I should call you.”
Abe looked around. He thought he
heard Mercury giggling.
“Well, cut it out.”
Abe ruminated on his next steps…
“I’m just trying to understand…how…it works for you.”
Wesley spread his hands in a sort of “I don’t know” gesture as the cell in Abe’s pocket chirrupted.
He looked at the caller ID.
He rubbed his eyes a bit, the tension already seeping into his body.
“Hi, Selma.”
The kids could hear some sort of loud talking coming from the phone, even though Abe held it to his ear.
“No, I haven’t been avoiding you. I told you, I’m out of town… Yeah. Uh huh… Well, Palmdale, Bakersfield…somewhere like that…Yes, that’s so. What? I’m away on business. Where am I? Why do you need to know?”
He listened for a while before attempting to wrap up the call.
“Okay, Selma. I’ve got to go. What? I’ve got a meeting…. Yes. Me. A meeting with actual people. Yes, you’re right. I’m such a big deal now. Why? Okay. I promise… Next time, I’m in an airport, I’ll even bring you back some See’s candy. Now, can I go? I have to go now. I have actual work to do, despite your low opinion of me.”
Abe turned back to Wesley.
“I think all I need to do is give your cell number to my cousin Selma. She pisses me off in no time. Maybe that’s all we have to do is unleash Selma on you. Interested?”
“No, OD, I mean, no sir.”
“Okay, first thing, as I see it is we have to find a way to get you really angry but do it in some sort of controlled setting where you can get control of the anger.”
“O.D. , you a psychologist?”
“No, but I do know a bit about fear and anger, and they’re closely related. Also…?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop calling me O.D.”
“Right!” Wesley looked mischievous; as though once you were told not to think of something, that was the only thing you could think of!
His round form squirmed under Abe’s intense gaze.
“We gotta think of a way to piss you off, boy.”
“But how?”
“Maybe we just annoy you. Then we work up to “pissed off.”
Abe looked up an old carpenter in the phone book. Then, he’d paid him what little money he still had to build a few very solid walls built to partition off the gym. He paid him a little extra with a wink and asked him to forget he was ever here.
The old carpenter inquired: “Ever where? What are you talking about?”
He waved goodbye.
“Thanks!”
The walls were a place to escape if things went South with Wesley’s training. An escape was planned well in advance for each of them.
“Marksman, on my cue you start shooting him with those tiny darts from your dart gun.” He leaned in and whispered the rest:
“Make certain that you aim for the extremities. I don’t want him actually harmed.” Marksman smiled confidently. Ready. Always.
“Marbles, you need to control your powers carefully. Just give him bursts of instability. Make the floor unsteady but don’t overdo it! Don’t make him fall over unless I call out for it.”
She nodded in assent.
“Mercury, you’ve got the most difficult assignment: I want you to physically harass him. You’re to run up to him and whack him with your hand, or a belt or a switch of some kind. Don’t hurt him, just piss him off.”
Abe gulped in anticipation.
“We need to see if he can control his impulses to beat the living crap out of all of us!”
It was dim in the gymnasium. Wesley stood in the middle, alone.
Suddenly a series of blurs swept past him. His head rocked back as if slapped hard.
His face screwed up in anger.
Then, the floor began “acting up”. This distracted him, until he felt darts, one- two- three- four strike each appendage.
His head was slapped again!
He whirled looking for the culprit, unthinking; angry; looking to lash out!
He crouched. He was ready to grab Mercury the next time he ran past and tear him limb from limb!
Another dart hit his left leg!
Another!
He swept them away!
He fell over! The floor had thrown him to his knees!
Then, Mercury had swept by and slapped him again!
Wesley reached up but missed Merc by a mile!
Another dart hit him in the extended arm!
That was enough!
He picked himself up with bloodlust in his eyes, intent on beating the living crap out of someone!
“Breathe deeply, Wesley!”
Abe’s voice boomed out over the antiquated P.A. system in the gym.
“Breathe… Control your anger…”
“Fuck you Old Man!”
“That’s Old Dude, to you, boy!”
Abe took a breath
“Think, son. THINK. You can control this!”
Abe paused.
Wesley seemed to subside a bit.
“Again, everyone!”
The next day they did the same things but “moreso”… The assaults became more focused and intense.
Wesley got angry and everyone retreated to the safe room until he calmed down.
Wesley grinned.
“I know I can feel it coming. I
might be able to control it.”
“That’s good son…Again,
everyone!”
After many bruises and close calls, where they dashed into the “safe room” that Abe had created until Wesley had calmed down, Abe was proven right. Wesley eventually developed a modicum of control. He was safe to be around…mostly.
Merc looked at the walls adjoining the saferoom. There were numerous serious punctures in the reinforced sheetrock. Fist- sized punctures!
Merc, standing next to Wesley was a study in contrasts. Abe took it all in, marveling at it. Merc was tall, thin, and lithe; Wesley was… Well he was a human fireplug with a whiplash temper!
“Wesley needs a code name.”
They, all five of them stood in the gym. Wesley’s grey and black spandex uniform had arrived earlier that day- on day eight.
Wesley flexed and stretched testing the “feel” of the uniform. The colors and textures seemed to emphasize his short, round stature.
“Butterball?” Marksman suggested muffling a snicker.
Everyone could see why.
Abe scrowled.
“Would the code name “Butterball” send shivers of fear running down your spine?” Abe was sarcastic. He didn’t want things to go off the rails this soon- if Wesley took offense…”is this how you’d address a respected team mate? It might be that you’ll one day, need this guy to have your back. Do you want to antagonize him?- Someone you might need to …trust?”
“How about “Mountain”? Marbles suggested. “He’s, like a little mountain, all by himself…”
“Not bad…”
Mercury’s eyes lit up “I’ve got it!”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“We call him “Murder!”
“Abe was aghast. “We don’t kill people!”
“They don’t know that!” – was Merc’s retort.
“No… Bad name…” Too many memories…” ‘from when he was young…’
“What do you mean, O.D.?”
“You don’t want to know, son.”
“Umm… excuse me…?”
Abe looked around at Wesley.
“Wesley? Yeah? What is it?”
“Well… You folks are talking about
me almost as if I’m not here…”
“Ohhhh, Sorry, Wesley.”
“No. That’s okay… But don’t I get to name myself? I mean why can’t I pick my own name? I’ve gotta live with it…”
“Good point.”
“Yeah.” Marksman allowed.
“Well, I can go on and on until I’m done- til they’re all down…”
“We call him the Energizer Bunny! Cool!” Mercury was laughing and moving to keep from getting hit- just in case.
“No. You dork!” Wesley grinned. “I keep on going and going… Like a Marathon… I’M Marathon.”
