Impetus Ch. 01

"I wanted to go into the air so I shot out of the water like a missile. The air was cold on my skin." Jeff brushed the goose bumps on his forearms. "But I couldn't tell the difference between real life and that place. Sync takes all the information it needs from your brain, memories, pictures, and things you thought you had forgotten a long time ago, everything. Whatever you know, Sync knows." Jeff exhaled a yearning sigh then pursed his lips. "It was great. I can't help but feel that wind sometimes."

"Honey?" Sarah said.

Pete's eyes glazed with fantastical wonder as he stared at his father, the person responsible for building Sync. I want to fly.

There was a look of mutual understanding between Jeff and Pete that Sarah felt distanced by. "Boys! Enough about flying. And I don't want you to play with that machine again, Jeff. It sounds like you love that thing."

"Not even close."

"No, Jeff." Sarah took Pete's hand and led him into the store.

"Babe." Jeff said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and feeling chagrin. He caught the door before it completely closed. "Baby?" Pete and Sarah were halfway in the store as Jeff followed. "Oh, shoot." He knew he shouldn't have laid it on so thick. Real dumb, he thought, as he stopped to look at a comic book of Superman that was shinning with the glow of ceiling light. Superman held a powerfully clenched fist over his head, as white streaks of air raced from his knuckles. In the background of the picture, the sun glistened majestically, as Superman raced through the sky. Jeff felt a stream of air slip past his ears, and thought of a spotless blue ocean - rebounding thick rays of sunshine full in his face. Jeff tilted his head to look down at the stark white linoleum covered floor and shuddered.

At the back of the store, Sarah and Pete were already reading comics.

Pete looked up from his issue of Batman and Robin and said, "I wish I could use Sync. Do you think it feels really real?"

Sarah sighed, looked back to see Jeff sluggishly making his way toward them while grazing through comics, then said, "Petey, I'm not going to endanger both my husband and son to some over-advanced video game – now, read your comic book."

Pete grimaced. Like such an opportunity would come anytime soon. By the time such technology was ready to be implemented into video games, he'd probably have Alzheimer's and wouldn't be able to remember anything long enough for Sync to work properly. He could imagine playing an airplane video game at ninety years old and forgetting that the plane needed wings, splat! Or driving a Formula One racecar and steering with the gear shift instead of the wheel, crunch.

"Why do they call her Tomb Raider if she isn't exploring any tombs?" Sarah asked as she briskly flipped pages. "I don't see any treasure either."

"Because, mom. She doesn't live in a tomb. She has to be out in the real world sometimes. You know, sell artifacts, buy tiny shirts, and flares to search caverns – that kind of stuff." Pete returned to his Batman comic book and snapped it like his father sometimes did with the Sunday paper, making a face as if all business should be conducted seriously within the comic store.

Sarah laughed, "Silly."

"Mother, please. I'm studying."

"Oh, sorry." Sarah snapped the Tomb Raider comic then read quietly.

And while they seriously took on the serious business of reading comics, Jeff shimmied his way down the isle, pretending to read a comic book he accidentally held upside down while drawing closer.

Pete lowered his comic so his right eye could peek over the edge at a blond girl with short pigtails who was busy reading. She must have been seventeen or eighteen but it was hard to tell. It didn't stop Pete from feeling warm every time the girl smiled at something she had read. Between his shoulders grew a mix of sharp pain and scorching heat. A girl as beautiful as her would never have anything to do with a crippled like him.

It won't be forever. Everyone, the doctors, mom, and dad all tell me they'll find a cure. I'll be walking and playing just like I used to. And then maybe, maybe when I talk to a girl as beautiful as her...

The girl turned and caught Pete looking. Maybe he had lowered the comic too much or maybe the girl just happened to turn while he stared a little too hard, but she rolled her eyes and left, leaving the comic book crinkled on the shelf, as if she couldn't have put it back fast enough.

Pete shoved the Batman comic in front of his face close enough to make the words blurry, not daring to pull it away for fear the girl with pig tails would be there, standing in front of him, ready to declare to the entire store that he was some kind of pervert with nothing better to do than to sneak peeks at non-suspecting girls who were way out of his range. Though, he could hear her feet patter away down the isle, he promised himself not to look in her direction again.

Jeff sidled Sarah who maintained a forced but active curiosity on her comic.

"Don't strain yourself trying to understand those, it'll make you cross-eyed."

In a hushed voice, Sarah said, "Being cross-eyed isn't what I'm worried about. I have a video game junkie husband, and a..." Sarah gently grabbed Jeff by the hand and led him further down the isle where Pete couldn't hear, "And a son who I don't know if he'll make it." Sarah hated the stinging tears that inevitably followed such an admission whether spoken or thought, but she tried very hard not to start a scene.

Trying to keep things looking natural, Jeff hugged his wife in a way that might have been thought of as romantic. "We don't know that. You're jumping to conclusions."

More of a shriek than anything, Sarah said, "No. No, no, no. That's not how Dr. Wharton sounded." Sarah's face was red with the effort of containing her grief. "Tell me I'm wrong." She said defiantly, as her eyes said, Don't you dare!

"Dr. Wharton isn't giving up." Jeff swallowed what felt like a cork. "There're options, chances, we still have." Jeff pulled Sarah further down the isle while Pete pretended not to know what was happening, and faithfully continued reading. "Look, just calm down, for Pete." Jeff stole another glance at his son. He realized how strong Sarah was, though she could barely keep from crying. As it was, he could barely keep his own eyes from pouring forth the sorrow drowning his heart. "Shhh." Jeff cooed and held his wife tightly. "Let's have a fun day, remember? Fun, you still know what that is, don't you?"

Sarah stifled a sob while wiping her eyes. "I know you're right, but it's hard." She looked down at the rack and pulled out a comic, staring at the picture then frowning. "Doesn't she wear any shirts her own size? Her boobs look like they're going to explode from the pressure."

"You think it's too tight? Hmm, looks good to me."

"Shut up." Sarah sent an elbow into his stomach. "She's just a cartoon; I'm a real woman. Will she make you breakfast in bed?"

Jeff smirked, "She could feed me milk until Kingdom come by the looks of it."

Sara gasped, "You're unbelievable! I'd better check what our little baby is doing, hopefully not gawking at half naked cartoon women like his father."

"Admiring," Jeff said indignantly.

"Whatever." Sarah turned.

"Honey, wait." Jeff said. "You have mascara on your face."

"Get it please." Sarah stood on her toes and leaned forward.

Licking his thumb and forefinger, Jeff rubbed black makeup from under her eyes. "Save your tears for the right occasion. Our little Pete, who's not so little anymore, mind you, is here and alive. That alone warrants a fun day. Don't you think?"

Sara frowned, "You're right." When Jeff finished wiping the last smear of mascara, Sarah kissed him on the lips, and then walked back to Pete.

"Hey." Pete said.

"Whatcha lookin' at now?" Sarah asked.

"Same thing, Batman."

"Is it good?" She leaned over his shoulder to look at dozens of pictures of Batman lined with white scrawl in between. Batman kicking, Batman jumping, and Batman punching.

"Yeah."

"Wanna buy it?"

"Sure." Pete dropped the magazine on his lap, but didn't feel it hit his legs. Sometimes they turned numb, but sometimes there was merely a weak feeling. Like when he ran his shins into the coffee table – that hurt. But since the numbness could hit a portion of his body at any time without affecting any other limb, Pete wasn't sure when the feeling came and went, and he didn't want to check in front of his mother because she might worry. Obviously there was something worrying them already, and Pete didn't want to make it worse.

"Can we rent an Anime?" Pete asked.

"Of course you can, sweetie. Take anything you want."

"Alright, thanks!" The Wizard took off toward the front of the store where the movies were pilled upon white shelves. Display cases were covered in various colors and shades to make characters look vibrant and happy. Jeff joined their search by rummaging along with them.

"What about this one?" Jeff asked.

Pete looked at it quickly, considering himself a critic of fine Anime, and could smell a low quality film easily. After scanning the back rapidly, ha gave a curt, "No."

Jeff scowled, trying to scan the back like Pete had done, then walked away to put it back.

"What about this?" Sarah asked. She didn't know anything about Anime except that her son often liked to watch it. She held a Tomb Raider Anime Vol. 3 in her hand. "She's wearing a big jacket because she's exploring a frozen kingdom."

Pete took the movie case then flipped it over and then smiled after studying the back. He almost laughed as he said, "But the hotel she's staying at before she explores the frozen kingdom has a spa." Pete pointed to the picture of Lara Croft wearing a skimpy bikini in a pose that made Sarah grab the plastic box from Pete's hands."

"Hussy." Sarah said. "I hope she freezes in a cave or something."

Jeff approached with another movie in his hand. "Let me see that."

"No!" Sarah said, pulling the movie away, as she passed to put it back.

"Here, I bet you'll like this one." Jeff said, finding it hard to contain his anxiousness.

Pete smiled when he recognized the title and cover, which took about two seconds. "Animatrix. That's a classic. It's really good, but I've seen it about ten times. We'll get it though. Leaning against the arm of the Wizard, Pete whispered, "There's a hot girl in the beginning of this one." He smiled again; a soft blush flirted against his cheek, and then they both laughed.

"What's so funny?" Sarah asked. She was on the other side of the shelf looking at movies.

Pete and Jeff looked at each other as if pointing the finger for who should have to answer. With a scratchy throat, Jeff said, "Nothing, dear." Then gave Pete a thumbs up.

When Jeff placed the movie in Pete's lap, there had been no sensation – no feeling of contact between the box and Pete's leg. When his dad left to scout another movie, Pete bent over and rubbed his shins. At first, he thought he couldn't feel his hands moving because his pants were too thick, and then he thought he wasn't rubbing his legs hard enough. But, no, Pete couldn't feel anything because his shins were numb. They just keep getting worse. Pete meant his legs, but it was his entire body that was degenerating. When his toes had first started shriveling into tiny-knotted appendages, fit for a ninety year old grandparent, the grim truth had begun to set in – Pete's health was getting worse not better.

But what's numbness? Pete tried to reason. It was nothing. It was the lack of pain, the polarization of agony. Numbness – nothing, Pete thought, as he pinched his shins. No pain should be good, but it was worse than angony. Like if his lower body had died and left the upper portion to defend itself.

It wasn't like Pete to think negatively. He always had a joke to tell – mostly to his detriment, but he tried to have fun whenever possible; there was always something to glean from every bad situation. Hard times were something to scoff at when an ordeal was finished. This was the same. Dr. Wharton only needed time. That's all. Ok, finite! Pete thought hard. He sat straight in his seat then the Wizard shot forward so he could pick out a couple more movies.

They left the Comic Factory after making their purchases and rentals, having taken five movies all together. Sarah would watch at least one and Jeff would probably watch two or three, and by tomorrow, Pete would be on his way to watching all of them for a second time. But everyone would have fun. Jeff and Sarah would talk during a movie, but that was ok; Pete enjoyed their company, and since all his friends were busy engaging in outside activities, his parents were also his best friends. As painful as that idea might be, it wasn't terrible. Not even that bad when he caught those spare moments when the entire family laughed at something one of them said; Sarah sometimes cried when she laughed too hard, and that made Pete feel extremely happy to know life could be that good.

"Am I going to die?" It was meant to be a joke, but it wasn't received well. They were parked in front of Tony's Pizza Palace. Kids and parents rushed past the doors to get inside the restaurant. Sometimes Tony's got so packed you had to wait forty minutes or so sitting on a long cushioned bench in the foyer before a table was available. Tony's Pizza Palace was so popular, it became a chain, and it was partly due to each pizza covered in three different types of cheese. But also, Tony's was popular for the retro one-dollar arcade section that was quickly becoming a thing of the past since newer technology had been developed. Every other arcade charged at least two dollars for one round with a popular title. But regardless of all these attractions, Jeff and Sarah didn't like the place. They said it was too noisy, too greasy (the pizza), and too crowded. So that's why Pete thought it would have been funny to ask the question, but as soon as the words had come out, he wished he could have reached out with his arms, which thankfully could still feel, to grab onto those floating words and shove them back into his mouth.

"Pete." Sarah looked at the mirror in the sun visor. Her eyes were marbles floating in tears not yet spilled.

"Pete." Jeff repeated.

Pete could see his father's jawbones clench – not good. "I just meant you never bring me here so what's the big celebration?"

"No celebration, Pete." Sarah said sadly.

What's going on?

"The celebration is that were all here as a family." Jeff said; the clench marks were gone. He smiled then said, "And it's been a long time since I've had three types of cheese on a pizza. What are we, Spartans?"

"Is this a chariot?" Pete asked.

"No," Jeff answered.

"Then were not Spartans."

They poured out of the van. Jeff and Sarah talked on the sidewalk in front of Tony's while the lift placed Pete onto the empty handicapped zone. Definitely there were some benefits to being handicapped like always having a parking spot or cutting lines, and you had a good seat at the movie theater because nobody else could sit in the middle walkway of an amphitheater. Not that Pete was crazy enough to believe anyone preferred to be crippled for a few marginal conveniences.

After the minivan door whispered shut, the Hascomb family entered Tony's Pizza Palace. It turned out that there was a waiting list, but when the waiter saw Pete, she ushered them to a corner where the table was adjustable for people with disabilities. At the next disabled table, a man with grayish hair, and who ate with a sturdy appetite sat alongside a pretty woman who might have been his wife or perhaps his sister, but who was eating her pizza demurely. It made Pete wonder whether one day he might find a girl who could look past the Wizard.

When the pizza came, Sarah did something she had never done before. Instead of inhaling her slice of pizza like Pete and her husband, she folded her hands, offered an embarrassed smile then closed her eyes. At first Pete and Jeff thought she was going to make a wish like on her birthday. Make a wish that the rest of the year would be filled with peace and love or that Pete would feel better maybe even get off the Wizard and start running and playing basketball. But she stood quiet, her eyes rolling behind their lids, as if picturing something interesting in her mind.

It seemed strange to Pete how watching someone pray made a person feel profane. Like a barbarian unequipped with the mental civility to push back a plate of food and give thanks. Not that Jeff or Pete slowed at this spectacle. They merely tried to quiet their slurps and sucks as they watched her slow controlled behavior.

By now, people started to watch like if she were a rare creature that had somehow made it into the city without being caught. But Sarah didn't make it a long prayer. Her eyes opened then she pulled the plate closer and began to eat. "It taste good, huh?" She asked but her eyes never averted from her plate.

Jeff coughed then chocked. "Um...fine. It's great. We should come more often. What do ya say, Pete?"

"Hmm?"

"I said we should come more often."

"Oh, oh yeah. We should. Three types of cheese."

Sarah nodded, "Tastes great. I wonder what cheeses."

"I'm not sure." Jeff said.

They're acting weird, Pete thought, and he knew it had something to do with him, but he never thought it could be something beyond spending the rest of his life in a wheelchair, which he dreaded. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he planned for it – living his life disabled. He could become the next Frank Weeler for American wheelchair racing. It would be a lot of hard work and a lot of dedication, but it was a goal worth accomplishing. Though, Pete worried the fatigue he'd been feeling on and off was a permanent part of Hyper Polio. Right now, he was too removed from these frightened thoughts to give them voice. Eventually he would find out. It might be better to be ignorant of the facts right now. Especially right now that he was enjoying three types of cheeses with his family. A thing like that was not to be wasted.

As they ate their meal, everyone talked. An event, which would be noted in all their memories under the name "Treasured Moments". Afterward, Jeff handed Pete a fifty-dollar bill and said, "Get some tokens. I feel like playing games." On the side of the Wizard was a satchel, which Pete filled with "Tony Tokens", a plump Italian man with a wide grin and thick mustache stamped on the side of the coin.

When the Hascombs reached a game named "Shoot 'Em Up", Pete rolled in front of it.

Sarah made an almost inaudible sigh when she saw that the arcade game was too high for the Wizard.

"I have it," said Pete. A button on the control box read "Accelerator", and he pushed it. At once the Wizard grew and stretched like a magical beanstalk. The new motor hardly made a noise as Pete grew to an advantageous height. His mother hadn't seen this or most of the other special features of the Wizard. "It can reach seven feet." Pete said.

Sarah gasped. "Ok, but don't do it. I don't want you to fall off."

"He'll be fine," Jeff said. He grabbed the life like gun from its plastic holster on the console of the arcade. "Now let's find out if you've gotten soft since the last time, varmint." He took two tokens from the satchel then fed them into the machine.

"Smile when you say that." Pete leered.

"I get winner." Said Sarah, standing between them to watch the approaching gun battle. It ended with Pete shouting victory and Jeff handing his gun over to Sarah. "Maybe you'll have better luck, mom."