At A.J.’s house in Pacific Palisades there was one large room with rubber mats on all sides and foam mats on the floor. A.J. called it his gym. He was floating in the room’s center, while Jim floated at the same level next to the wall, giving the illusion that he stood on the wall.

“Now let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Jim was saying. “You want me to plug a formula into a formula?”

A.J. looked stern. “We’ve been over this a few times now, haven’t we?”

“Yes, but what you’re asking...”

“Look, the theory is simple,” A.J. said. “From where you are, all you need to do is plug in one formula and you’ll fly straight at me.”

“Basically,” Jim responded, “once gravity is contained.”

“Exactly. What I want you to do is take the formula for the circumference of a circle and plug it into your alternation of the gravity formula. What I believe will happen is that you’ll head towards an equidistant point on the adjacent wall.”

“Want me to tell you why it won’t work?” Jim asked.

“No.”

“What you’re asking,” Jim continued, “will release my hold on simultaneous thoughts. I’ll have to think of both formulae, and still control gravity.”

“I know it’s a risk,” A.J. countered. “That’s why we’re in here.”

Jim thought about it for a moment. “How far is it from mid-point to mid-point on each wall?”

“About 50 feet.”

“That puts you about 35 feet away from me.”

“A bit more, but yes.”

“If you’re wrong, I’ll end up hitting you.”

A.J. laughed. “I can move if I need to.”

Jim sighed. “All right,” he said, “let’s do it.”

Jim thought about the formula to change his momentum and velocity. Next he thought about his position, and set up the arc in his mind that would hit the adjacent wall properly. The formula was easy but he had to rely on imagination for the size of the arc. That was the hard part; trying to contemplate the arc.

He considered the change in v=at that made him move. Jim decided upon ten feet per second. He lost gravity for a microsecond, but gained it back immediately after pushing off.

He moved directly a A.J. Seven seconds later he hit the far wall, having moved in a straight line across the room. A.J. had to change his gravitational formula to get out of the way.

“I don’t think it worked,” Jim said.

A.J. floated up to the center of the room, facing Jim. “I couldn’t see what happened,” he said.

“Too busy getting out of the way?”

“Data too confused.” A.J. considered for a moment. “Want to try it again?”

“Sure,” Jim responded, “but it still won’t work. And I’m going slower this time.”

A.J. laughed.

“Hey!” Jim protested. “That landing wasn’t all too comfortable.”

A.J. laughed even harder. “Want a drink first?”

“Keep it up asshole,” Jim returned. It wasn’t angry, but said with a smile. Both brothers knew it was friendly.

Jim stood on the wall facing his brother and decided to go at half the speed. Jim therefore wasn’t too surprised to hit the opposing wall 14 seconds after changing the velocity formula. He let himself to the floor, and so did A.J.

“See? It still didn’t work.”

“Yeah,” A.J. noted despondently. “It should have.”

“No it shouldn’t, and if you’d listen for a moment you’d realize I was trying to tell you that. The ultimate result was to change velocity only.”

A.J. sighed in agreement. “I guess so.”

Jim walked over to his brother. “Fuck it, A.J.,” he said. “Let’s go get a drink and play some darts.”

“Rules?” A.J. asked, resigned now that Jim had decided on drinking.

“One Bushmill’s for each perfect round. Someone will fuck up at some point.”

“Granted, but we’ll be in public. I’ll have to drink vodka.”

“Then let’s go you Cossack.”

Bullseye. Bullseye. Bullseye.

A quick word about your standard dart board. There are 20 numbered segments around the circumference of the board, with single value spaces and smaller double and triple value spaces. You can score 1 to 20, 2 to 40 by twos, or 3 to 60 by threes, and any combination of all these. There are also two bullseye rings. There is an outer, worth 25 points, and an inner worth 50. The inner is considered a true bullseye, while the outer is called a ringer. The advantage to these spaces (as opposed to a triple 20 which is easier to hit) is that on consecutive hits the values go up. In a three dart round, ringers are worth 25, 50, and 75, while bullseyes are worth 50, 100, and 150 respectively. The way Jim and A.J. play, which is not the most common way of playing or scoring a darts match, a perfect round is worth 300 points. 300 or best non-tied score is game. (They play this game as opposed to, say, Kings and Horses or Doubles and Triples, so that other people will play them sometimes).

The match between Jim and A.J. drew many spectators quickly. The bartender wisely set up a discreet betting pool, and supplied the Bushmill’s and the vodkas for each perfect round. There were gasps and applause as the two obvious darts masters hit perfect round after perfect round. There was rooting and cheering, some for the six-foot two pop star that several of the regulars knew, and some for the seven-foot five gargantuan that a few recognized and most simply gaped at. The gamblers were more partisan than the players, who had the score respectably tied.

The score was 3600 to 3600 and had been running three hours when Karen came into the bar.

“Hello Karen,” the bartender said as she came up to the bar. “Usual?”

“No,” Karen replied. “I’m into Bushmill’s these days.”

“That’s what I meant,” the bartender responded, having already poured the drink. “You watch yourself. You’re becoming attached to him.”

“Any reason I shouldn’t?” Karen asked, sipping the drink.

The bartender looked at her studiously for a moment. “No,” he finally said, “I don’t think there is.”

Karen finished her drink, and the bartender poured another. “They’re over at the board,” he said, putting the bottle down.

“I noticed,” Karen responded. She took a sip of her drink and stood to go to the game. “Thanks, Mike!”

“Anytime.” The bartender went off to another customer.

Karen worked her way through the crowd, amidst cheering and calls of “Drink! Drink!” When she broke through the crowd, she saw A.J. downing a shot of vodka.

“Mmmmm! Very tasty! Much like home!” A.J. shouted, with a thick and somewhat slurred and very faked Russian accent. He stumbled to where Jim was sitting and fell into a chair. Jim nodded and slowly rose, his condition somewhat affected by twelve shots of his favorite drink.

Karen looked through the crowd to get a reaction to the game. The level of excitement was incredibly high, and one woman to Karen’s immediate left kicked out so much sexual feeling that Karen was getting a bit turned on.

She leaned over to the woman next to her. “What’s the score?” she asked.

“3900 to 3600,” the other woman replied.

“Wow,” was Karen’s response. “Who’s winning?”

“The tall one.”

Jim stood up to the line and threw his first dart. Bullseye. The crowd hushed as he hit the second, and erupted with noise when he hit the third. Jim downed the Bushmill’s in one quick toss.

“You rooting for anyone?” Karen asked the woman.

“The winner,” the other replied. “That will be the one I go home with.”

Karen raised an eyebrow, then called to Jim. “Hey loverboy!”

Jim spun wildly and faced her. “Karen!” he shouted. “You lovely cherry-bomb-on-an-angel-food-cake-with-whipped-cream! Come to cheer me on?”

Karen finished her drink and shouted back, “Actually, you’d better lose!”

“Why?”

“Because this woman’s decided to go home with the winner, and I’m going home with you!”

A.J. stood and joined Jim, and the two of them walked over to where Karen and the other woman stood.

“You don’t like threesomes?” Jim asked, pretending to be hurt.

“I don’t share,” Karen replied.

A.J. looked the other woman up and down. She was a muscular blonde and was easily Jim’s height.

“You’re tall enough,” he told her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked back.

“Anatomy. You’ll find out if I win.”

The woman started to react, but A.J. cut her off. “Added incentive to root for me,” he said.

The room hushed as A.J. stood up to the line. Bullseye. Bullseye. The third dart didn’t hit the board. It stuck instead into the crown of the second dart, splitting it as if it were shot by Robin Hood. The crowd was shocked, then went wild.

Jim was stunned. This was something he had never expected from A.J., who also looked surprised. He recovered quickly and turned, grinning, to his older brother.

“Beat that,” he said.

Jim shook his head in wonder. He stood up to the line, and the room fell silent. Bullseye. Bullseye. He stood back a moment to consider his third throw, then threw with no apparent warning. It hit the crown of the first dart but deflected, hitting double 13.

There were shouts and confusion and there was a lot of money changing hands, and A.J. was congratulated with many slaps to the back. Someone announced the final score; A.J. with 4200, Jim with 4076.

Karen walked up to Jim and kissed him. “At least you tried, stud,” she said.

“I must say,” Jim said, stumbling, “that he really threw me. I wasn’t ready for that last shot of his.”

Meanwhile, A.J. and the other woman were talking.

“I’m waiting for an explanation,” the woman was saying.

“Well,” A.J. responded, “how horny are you?”

“Amazingly.”

“Good. Can you handle sudden nudity?”

The woman started to mentally salivate and nodded enthusiastically. A.J. then dropped his pants.

The woman stared wide-eyed. Karen did too. So did most of the bar.

“For the record,” A.J. announced, “it’s thirteen inches. Limp. Other measurements are to be taken by appointment only.”

Karen turned to Jim. “Take me home,” she said.

“A.J. and I came in together.,” Jim responded.

“He’ll manage.” She let a little emotion out, so that Jim could feel. “Take me home. Now.”

Jim pulled out his car keys and handed them to Karen. “I’ve had too much to drive on,” he told her. “You drive.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say to you?” Karen replied.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the idea, dear.”

It was a little after two in the morning when Karen awoke with a shiver. She had tossed the bed-covers off of her body in her sleep, and the cool air of the house chilled her nude body. There was also a draft coming from the window that led into the backyard, but that was warm. Of Jim there was no sign.

Karen got out of the bed and considered getting dressed. She finally decided against it, as she and Jim were the only ones supposedly in the house. Besides, Jim had a nudist streak in him and Karen, after some initial reservations, found she liked it. As long as it was in Jim’s house only.

She walked to the window to let the breeze warm her. As she looked out, she realized how private Jim’s home really was. Although he had quite a view into the hills above Los Angeles from his home in the day, there was only darkness in the night. She couldn’t even tell where Jim’s property ended due to the absence of light. But then no one could see in, either.

A slight sound below caught her attention, and for the first time she realized that Jim and an Olympic-sized swimming pool, complete with one- and three- meter diving boards. Jim, soaking wet and naked, stood on the smaller diving board.

Jim launched himself into the air. He rose quickly, then went into an agonizingly slow pace as he began to flip backwards: ten-and-a-half times before hitting the water with a small splash. He surfaced a few seconds later.

Karen was getting used to her new environment. Accepting Jim’s abilities proved not to be too difficult, given Jim’s own acceptance of them.

That’s what it was, she decided. Jim was thoroughly comfortable with the strange life he was forced to lead. No one could fake such a thing that well; at least not to her. It was instead all part of the ego and makeup that was Jim Christopher. Without the abilities he would have seemed half a person.

Maybe that’s why I stay, she mused to herself. There must be a reason. To immerse myself in the comfort this man has with the self. It was a certain change from Jeff, her ex-husband, that she felt she needed, and Jim supplied it readily and without reservation.

Maybe Jim is whole because I’m what he needs, she thought. I find I’d like to think so.

As Jim got back onto the diving board, Karen decided to return to bed. She had to go to work in the morning, and she never got enough sleep these days.

She sighed as she drew the covers over her form, and listened for the splash.

“What have I gotten myself into?” she asked herself aloud.