One Day At A Time I

i’ve never been much of a people person. not that i don’t like people per se, i just don’t like company so much. not to mention, the more people find out about me, the less they like mine. you see every morning when i get out of bed, i seem to be able to do…well…things—strange things—fantastic things. if you read comic books, then this will sound like a blessing. if you like the simple life, this will sound like a curse. to me, it’s just a simple fact of life…well, not so simple. but i seem to be getting ahead of myself.

my name is frank beeman, and i have super powers.

it all started on my tenth birthday. as i remember, i got out of bed early because it was my day, and i had peeked into the trunk of my dad’s buick and found out i was getting that bike i so desperately wanted. my mom was already downstairs putting together my lunch for school. she turned to wish me a “good morning,” or “happy birthday,” but the words died on her lips because it’s not every day that a woman sees her ten year old son standing six inches off of the kitchen floor.

needless to say, i got that day off of school.

in fact, i got the rest of the week off, while my parents kind of freaked out. it was really understandable and, all in all, they handled it fairly well. after my dad revived my mom from the first time she fainted, we all sat down (well, i floated above the chair) and tried to come up with a good explanation for what was happening to me. for the first hour, there was a lot of denial and a little finger pointing, but after all that was done, the conclusion was reached: no one had any idea what the hell was going on and there would be no explanation for the moment. after that, we spent some time finding out exactly what nature of my “condition” really was.

for me, it was like running in dry sand. it didn’t really matter what kind of surface i was over, everything felt the same. unfortunately, it is really hard to jump in dry sand, so my limit was six inches…give or take two. i found if i tried to dig my feet towards the floor, i could touch it, but then i was stuck. the real fun was when my dad had the great idea to fill up the bath-tub with water. they may have been in shock, but it didn’t stop them from laughing as they dubbed me “boy jesus.”

the rest of the day was actually kind of fun. i got to wear one of my dad’s trench-jackets, and we went for a walk. every where we went, it was the same thing. even when (as both my parents stood watch) i marched across the pond in the park next to our house, the adventure continued. the strange thing is, i didn’t so much care about the whole supernatural aspect of my tenth birthday…it was the change of perspective. doorways felt smaller. i could see on top of the refrigerator. when i gave my mom a hug before i went to bed, it felt different. i was in an adult’s world and enjoyed an adult’s perspective.

it was extremely disappointing when i awoke the next morning to find my feet firmly planted on the ground. no more “boy jesus.” no more special tall perspective. no more…anything. did i dream what had happened? was there any way the fantastic goings on of yesterday were all in my head and today was my birthday? the sound of my parents feet pounding up the stairs to my room the second i was up allayed these thoughts. the look in my mom’s eyes was first one of urgency then of relief. my dad almost looked a little disappointed, but they both rushed too me and inspected my state of being. i told them i was fine and i just was really hungry and could we go downstairs and just have breakfast…and then they were gone. actually, as the first wave of panic subsided, i realized that it was i who was gone. in fact, i was simply standing in the kitchen. in fact, i was standing in the kitchen when i heard my mother scream…