Starflight was moving along in good form. In the months that passed we had trained well. Our mental prowess was increasing, our paranormal abilities were growing and we were getting stronger.
The team was getting more confident as, well when you think of it, hese were a rather rag tag bunch of misfits. The following is a lost chapter in the history that probably was the benchmark of our little brood.
One day... I answered the door of my dorm room, Room 213. In walked Joey M. He went over to the 3 bowl shaped plastic chairs my mother had given me to take to college. I believe I mentioned in a previous chapter about Starflight, they were numbered. "1 Commander" was on one, "2" and "3" with striped relative ranks in gold, silver and copper paint was stenciled on them. Mind you, this was college, I was about 18, "young, dumb and full of cum" as they say in the ghetto. But for my young years, in certain things I was wise, or so I thought as I tried to tie this band of vagabond psychics together.
I digressed. Joe walks in and sits in the sacred "1 Commander" chair. He watches my eyes light up in utter shock. My chain of command... usurped?!? He had a look in his eyes of defiance. There was something definitely on his mind he wanted to get out. He smiled and said to me, "you need to know something... Something about me I haven't shown you. Once I do, you'll know why I did that. Shut the door and close all the windows. "I shut the door. I put aside my feelings of annoyance as I wanted to get to the bottom of this outrageous attempt to undermine my command.
What followed next and what I had witnessed with my own eyes is one of those life instances that still boggles me to this day.
"You'd better have a good reason for this, Number 2!" Weren't we cute? Like a little paranormal military school. Anyway, he reaches into my pencil box (we art majors kept lots on hand) and pulls out a pencil. He puts his finger to his lips as if to say "shhhhhhh". "Make sure all the windows are secure and that no air can get into them..." he says. These windows are steel and close from the bottom up like a transom. When they seal, they become practically air tight.
He motions for me to come over. He then takes the pencil, looks at me and says, "don't speak, don't even breathe." The room was completely devoid of any air traffic. Not a breeze could be detected or felt.
He placed the pencil on the edge of my desk and balanced it perfectly. "Stare at the pencil" he says. We stare. "Keep staring" he whispers. "Keep... Staring..." he murmurs.
Then it happened. The pencil ....started to move. It started to turn on it's axis in a clockwise fashion. Slowly it turned. A mere millimeter at first. Then it turned in about another quarter inch radius. Then another half inch, ever so slowly... Then it picked up speed in it's spin and spun off the table.
I had never seen a real telekinetic beforehand... Until now. I was dumbfounded, my mouth open. He stood there with the biggest shit eating grin, walked over to my chair and sat in it again. "That was just a fraction of what I used to do. You sure you should still lead us?"
The smugness was eating at me and he knew it. He then got up and patted me on the back. "I don't want your command. I just want to help you be what you were meant to be and to take the team to new heights."
Admirable if I might say so myself. From that time forward we trained and like I said before, we trained hard.
Posted by Darkstar at February 9, 2007 01:07 AM | TrackBack