5

            After some paperwork, the doctors administrated the tests. As they said, they were quick and painless for the most part. I finally got fed after over twelve hours without a proper meal, and by that point it was nearly midnight. Lizzie stayed in the room and slept on a couple of chairs lined together, while I tried to fall asleep processing the events of the crazy day. I was still full of energy, having eaten dinner not even a full hour ago, and already having spent several hours passed out. Eventually though, the stress of the day caught up to me and ached my head to sleep.

            I dreamed again about the empty field and the thundercloud. Again, when the bolt struck me, it stayed locked onto me from the sky, and I rose into the air again. Like last time, I got all tingly and the feeling was so good. I felt figuratively and literally charged. Just like last time, I’m so bursting with energy that I feel like I’m about to explode with power. Only the dream didn’t stop there this time. Unable to keep it inside any longer, I stared directly at the tree line and just… expelled all my energy at once. Lightning quick, a bolt of light shot from my chest right toward the tree and after a flashy burst, the tree was aflame. The flames spread to the forest around and before my eyes was a beautiful forest fire. I smiled at my work as I was slowly and delicately lowered back onto the ground. And for a while I simply stared and watched the flames dance around.

            I was able to recall the dream more accurately when I awoke now that I’d had it twice. It was a very strange dream, not like ones I usually had where random things happen. This one was more focused, in a vaguer environment. And those strange feelings during the dream… when I had risen into the air and gathered all that energy… It had felt incredible. And it had felt… real. I recall feeling my heart pounding, feeling the windy atmosphere in the air, feeling the force of the bolt against my heart.

            Why was it always the heart?

            Lizzie heard me getting up and mumbled her good mornings. “How do you feel?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

            “Really good honestly,” I said, feeling around my body for burns again. “I still don’t have any pain. Like at all, not even a headache. And mentally, still a little rattled, but otherwise I’m alright.”

            Lizzie smiled and walked over, and we shared a quick kiss. “I’m gonna go make myself presentable.” She walked over before pausing right at the doorway, reminded of something. “Hey, uh… did that weird… static electricity thing happen again last night?”

            I raised my eyebrows. “Not that I’m aware of, why?”

            She yawned. “Well, ’cause I got up last night to pee and I swear I could hear buzzing, kinda like how you were when you had the static thing. I wasn’t too sure, so I got closer. It sure sounded like it was coming from you.”

            “Huh… Well, not to my knowledge, I guess. It’s gone now at least.”

            She only nodded and left the room. I gave a small sigh of relief. If she was right, then it wasn’t my mental command yesterday that got rid of the static field, and it just stopped on its own. But why had it reemerged in the first place? Was that a sign that I would be stuck with random bouts of static electricity popping up without warning? That could be rough for my future interactions and social life—if I had one to speak of. I decided to put my trust in the doctors that they’d let me know if anything was wrong internally from the tests.

            We had breakfast, the doctors let me in on the progress of the test results and asked me a couple of questions about how I was feeling. Lizzie called Frank to ask for an update, and I finally got a chance to talk to him as well. He let me know that he didn’t blame me for what happened and intended to take full responsibility for the accident, despite my insistent protests. Lizzie only groaned at our contest to blame ourselves and stepped in when we just went back and forth in circles. He told me how the police questioned him for hours, how they insisted that something about the incident had to be premeditated. Since there was no valid proof of his involvement, they let him go, but Frank warned me that I could be seeing some questioning myself. I frowned at Lizzie upon hearing that. I fully understood their reason for believing something malicious had happened, and I worried about that conversation. “I’m the victim!” I retorted angrily.

            “I know, I know,” Frank said. “But what happened with the generator doesn’t make any sense, regardless of whether or not you reached over. They’ll suspect foul play for attention, and given you’re about to walk away without so much as a scratch, I don’t think they’re going to believe you for a while.”

            “Shit…” I muttered. He was right. Even if I had nothing to hide, that didn’t mean that this didn’t look suspicious as all hell. “You believe me, right? This wasn’t intentional. I don’t know what came over me, but I didn’t plan this.”

            “I believe you a thousand times over,” he insisted comfortingly. “Lizzie and I practically had to drag you to the cage in the first place, there’s no way you intended for any of this to happen.”

            “Thanks Frank,” relief flowing through me. “And I’m really sorry about your job. You didn’t deserve to be fired like that.”

            “I’m just thanking the Lord that you’re alive and scratchless. You really scared me, you know that? And don’t apologize, I’ve already forgiven you,” he said, sniping the words from my mouth. “Instead of placing blame, let’s just move on and work on getting you out of that hospital.”

            I again thanked him, and we ended the conversation. I was a bit relieved that Frank wasn’t blaming me for messing up the routine and getting him fired, but I still felt incredibly guilty anyhow. It was painful talking to someone who lost their job from your own actions. Especially when you had no justification or reason for your actions. Still, it wasn’t the conversation I was actually dreading.

            The real dreadful conversation arrived thirty minutes later, when the exhausted and horrified figures of my parents burst into the room. “Oh, my baby!” Mom’s overprotective voice exclaimed as she ran right up to hug me. And because I loved her too, I hugged her tightly back. “I’m so happy you’re ok!”

            “I’m ok Mom, I’m ok…” I repeated, rubbing her back as her tears wet my shirt.

            “I can’t believe it… when we got the phone call, I thought… I thought…” she cried, unable to finish her thought.

            “I’m ok. I’m here, I’m ok.”

            I wanted to hug my dad as well, but Mom clung to me like her life depended on it, so Dad opted to awkwardly greet Lizzie who gave an equally awkward smile back.

            “One day…” Mom said, starting to shake me a bit. “You couldn’t have gone one day without causing trouble for yourself…”

            I bit back an immediate response, offended. I had to remind myself over and over that this is just who she is. “I’m sorry I worried you…” was the only thing I could think to say.

            “One day…” she repeated, “and you decide that the best thing for you to do is walk into a death cage to get yourself electrocuted!”

            I finally released our hug and grabbed her shoulders, a little more forcefully than I had intended. “Mom, I’m alright, ok? Can we focus on that? It’s in the past.”

            “Beck, what were you thinking!? I knew this vacation was a bad idea from the start. Do you know how incredibly irresponsible it is to volunteer for something that dangerous with someone you don’t even know? You should know better than this.”

            “I had it all under control!” I retorted before I could stop myself. “The cage was safe, and we rehearsed it, I knew what I was doing.”

            “Clearly you didn’t,” Mom said with a snort and a small gesture to the hospital room around me.

            I lowered my head. I couldn’t respond to that. Technically, she was right. Even after all our rehearsals, I still fucked up the routine. I sighed, knowing full well that this was an argument I was never going to win. Exactly what she had been worried about had occurred, and it really was all my fault. And while it sucked that she was attacking the entire vacation for what was just a one-day misstep she still had a point. I had a zero-percent success rate for good days on this vacation so far.

            As overbearing and obsessively compulsive Mom was being, her point stood to the point that I had to at least consider her words. I was twenty-two. Certainly, I should know better by now not to stick my hand through a cage that was getting struck by electricity. I could play the card of my mind going completely blank as much as I wanted, that was no excuse. What if my mind went blank during other dangerous situations? What if I was standing on the edge of a cliff enjoying the view and suddenly compelled myself to walk off? I should know better than that, right? Was there something wrong with me? Or was I just irresponsible, just like Mom claims?

            I had grown up with Mom’s constant nagging and babying, and it took conversations with my middle school friends to realize that she was being overly dramatic. From then, I started to brush aside her lessons whenever she’d get huffy. It felt like she was being controlling rather than supportive, and it rarely felt respectful. I hoped being the older child would mean she would have more irresponsible kids to baby, but that wasn’t what happened. I was the first to start learning to drive, and Mom was the worst driving instructor ever; I nearly crashed several times from her practically reaching over and trying to take the wheel from the passenger’s seat. She insisted on a curfew, and if I didn’t meet it because I was out with friends, I would lose my electronics for a week. I started to notice that her mannerisms were straight-up manipulative at some points, and I found myself really desperate to leave and get my own place. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my mom. She was always my number one supporter when it came to my passions. She loved that I wanted to become a teacher and even helped me pick out a college that fit what I was looking for. And even if she was overly protective, she was equally as sociable and charming. I just wished she would give me space to let me be myself on occasion.

            I spent a long time trying to decide how to respond when Lizzie piped up unexpectedly. “Mrs. Roland, please don’t blame Beck for this entirely. Frank and I encouraged Beck to volunteer, he didn’t even want to at first.”

            Mom and I both turned to Lizzie, and she quickly realized she messed up. “Excuse me?” Mom said, raising her voice. “You mean to tell me you encouraged my son to get electrocuted?”

            Lizzie’s face paled, and I quickly motioned to Lizzie to shut up, but she fumbled. “Uhh… I… That’s not-”

            “I knew you were a bad influence on my boy! I just knew from the moment I met you that you were bad news. I can’t believe I ever let you take him to Boston…”

            “Mom!” I cried. I got up out of bed and wedged my way in between her and Lizzie, staring her down. “Lizzie isn’t to blame here. It was my fault, ok? She had nothing to do with it.”

            “Stay away from my son,” Mom sneered over me. “You and your uncle are a clear danger to this family.”

            “Lucille…” Dad finally said, stepping in to grab her shoulder. She whipped around to face him, red all over her face. Dad winced but kept his calm the best he could. “You’re stressing your son out. Give him some time to process everything, ok?”

            Mom, breathing heavily, looked like she was fighting something in her head. Finally, her shoulders sagged and took a deep breath. She glared again at Lizzie before hanging her head back in my direction. “My poor baby… I’m sorry that you’re going through all this. Come on, let’s talk to the doctors and see how much longer you’ll have to be in here. We’ll get you home to Bloomington soon.”

            She grabbed my hand, but I kept my feet planted in shock. “Home? To Bloomington? Mom, I’m still on vacation!”

            She huffed. “This trip was a bad idea to begin with. You belong back home with your family. Eliza and James are worried sick you know!”

            “I’ll give them a call then,” I said, not moving. “Look, we can figure out a plan later, but can we not talk about home yet? I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here and I’m just taking things one step at a time. Can we just… start with that?”

            Mom didn’t move for a few seconds. Finally, she sighed and released my hand. “Alright, we’ll talk about it later.” We embraced again, and I heard a huge sigh of relief from Dad. “I’m just so relieved that you’re ok…” she repeated.

            For a second there was silence until I heard muffled cries. I released from Mom and found the source. Lizzie was in full tears after the barrage of insults thrown her way. “Lizzie…” I said, reaching out. To my surprise, she yelped and ran out of the room in a hurry.

            We all watched the door in stunned silence. I glared at Mom, a glare that perfectly said you better apologize to her when we get back and ran out of the room after her.

            ___