Dreams to Fire chapter 4

Fy goes to school at the age of twelve, and fits in just fine. She easily passes the classes with straight A’s. And she keeps her mom safe from having to go to school again.

Fy wakes up one morning, and notices something strange about herself.

Mom said things would start growing, but, she didn’t mention anything about… ears? I’ll, just keep my hair over them.

A few weeks go by and Fy’s ears rapidly grow with no explanation as to why. She keeps them hidden at all costs. She looks up everything she can online, searches libraries, but nothing explains it. Soon her shoulder length red hair will be unable to provide cover for her growing ears. She’s become quite adept at keeping secrets up to this point, but this one will not be so easily concealed.

More weeks go by, and Rob grows suspicious of his daughter’s odd behavior. She refuses to go swimming, saying she isn’t feeling well. And after every shower she has to blow dry her hair before coming out of the bathroom. She never blow drys her hair.

Rob plans on joining Erica for a short trip to Hawaii for a photo shoot, leaving Fy’s grandparents to watch over her. But Erica and Rob get a last minute call from their friends who need help with an emergency move. Their friends are being evicted out of their home. So Rob comes back home, leaving Erica to fly solo.

He sits in his favorite chair, watching the rain pour down beyond the living room window. He’s finished making a few calls to help his friends out, and he’ll be helping them move tomorrow.

Falling drops of dark sky’s water are like Nature’s blades cutting through the instantly regenerating night, relentless and without hesitation. Rob’s mind wanders to many strange places, far beyond what most people think about in everyday life. Things have changed so much in society, so fast, and he can’t help wondering why.

Fy barges into the room beyond the front door with her red hair drenched in rain—and with her inhuman long ears clearly showing through her wet hair. Fear becomes her for a brief moment of fate as she sees the look on her father’s face. She covers up her ears, announces she has to go the bathroom and runs away. But it’s too late.

It’s finally time for Rob to openly face the music—his daughter is different. Very different.

Early morning the next day, Fy is reading a book in her room, at her grandparent’s home. Rob knocks, and she says come in.

“Hiya Fy, what ‘ya reading?”

“That book you suggested: ‘Way of the Peaceful Warrior.’ I love it, Socrates is hilarious. And wise.”

“That he is.” He moves close to her, and says in a serious tone he knows his daughter will recognize, “Fyrona, it is time we talked.”

“Oh come on Dad, not more sex talk. Mom already said she covered everything.”

“Not about that. About your growing ears.”

Fy is frozen.

“It’s okay, I’ll explain everything.” His hand moves toward her hair, but she shys away.

“Have you read the parts about accepting change? That everything happens for a reason? And it’s up to you to find it?”

“I don’t think I’ve got to that part.”

“You will.” He gently brushes her protective layer of red hair aside. Her ears point out to the sides, slightly back and up, becoming more slender as they extend.

“I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want you think I’m a freak or something. I don’t want to lose you Dad, or Mom.”

“You will never lose us Fy.” He walks over to her favorite red couch, the one his daughter picked out a long time ago, on a beautiful day out shopping with his family. He takes a seat, and pats the seat cushion next to him. She hesitates, but she walks over and takes the seat.

“I’m going to tell you a story. A true story. Not every work of fiction you enjoy is, entirely fiction. Just relax, answers are coming.” He sighs, and pauses before continuing.

“The year was nineteen forty-four. The place, downtown New York City. A man walked into a bank and robbed it. But he didn’t use a gun, as he didn’t need one. The cops arrived and he more than resisted arrest, he prevented. And I know how this is going to sound, but he was much stronger than what humans are normally capable of. The cops shot him, but the bullets… just bounced off. Combined with his impossible strength, he became possessed by madness, and rampaged through the streets, creating destruction with every step. He was apparently unstoppable. Some escaped. Some didn’t.

“Eventually, in the midst of his madness, a stranger just as strong as him showed up, and fought him. This stranger was a good man, and sought to protect the people. Well, good creature. He looked like a silver-white humanoid tank layered with natural chitinous armor, with three thick fingers on each hand and two huge toes on each foot, and he wielded massive crushing forearms. They battled for some time across the streets, and eventually the stranger overpowered him. He didn’t have a choice, and was forced to kill the madman. That was the first officially recorded case of a Super-Human incident.”

Her face is worth a million words, but she says none. Her father continues.

“After, people were scared of the stranger, and yet they cheered at him too. The stranger didn’t run, and turned himself over. Every experiment imaginable for that time was done on him. But no explanation was found for his powers. Eventually, that stranger faded into a history unrecorded. No one knew his real name, or what happened to him.

“Over time, more incidents happened, and more Super-Humans showed up, from all over the world. With every kind of power you can imagine. Some had just one power, some two, and same many more. And more gave themselves over to science, trying to figure out why they had such powers. But nothing ever gave even one hint as to why they were Super-Human.

“Genetics revealed they were just as human as anyone else. Backgrounds, experiences, everything was looked at, every variable accounted for. Eventually the scientific community gave up. Super-Humans were, and still are, a complete mystery.

“What was learned is that most superpowers drained a person of energy, just like with physical effort. It was discovered that the more a Super-Human was in shape physically, as a normal human, the more their powers would be improved. There was this one guy who could shoot out electricity from his hands, but it got weaker the more he used it. Good food and sleep ‘recharged’ him. The results only made the mystery more mysterious.

“Today, most Super-Humans keep their powers a secret, and live a life like anyone else would. The past,” he pauses. And decides to be honest with his daughter, “The past history of Super-Humans tended to be a bloody one. But don’t worry, that was a long time ago.

“Super-Humans are somewhat akin to albino’s in rarity, although even more rare. Since most people can’t accept someone with such powers, it’s easier on them to stay out of the public’s attention. The few that did live in the public eye, don’t anymore. It was extraordinarily rare and now it’s old news, which is why you haven’t heard of them. No one wants to talk about it. It’s too… unnerving. Things in real life never quite turned out the way they did on the page. It’s far more interesting for people to read about the amazing exploits of fictional Super-Humans, instead of seeing the grim, way-to-real reality of it all.

“In the past, someone would proclaim they are a Hero,” he pauses, “Or even a group of people would proclaim they are going to change things. But they would only end up getting themselves murdered. If not by a bullet, than by other means. Everyone had a weakness, and somebody was bound to become an envious psycho. Why talk about something that can’t save you…”

He catches himself from trailing off. “But things have changed since then. The powers of those first two Super-Humans from the story are extremely rare. The majority of Super-Humans are not invincible, nor anywhere near it. They bleed, and die, just like any human would. Most of the population don’t ever run into one for their entire lives. There’s even some people who claim it’s all made up, that’s it’s all just a hoax. But let’s not talk about them. No one knows for sure, since many stay hidden, but the rough estimates for the known ones are roughly thirty thousand plus the world over. It’s a very rare, but recorded phenomenon.

“You, my dear daughter, are a Super-Human.”

Fy seems to relax.

“I’ve had my suspicions for a long time. Ever since you were a baby. Your mother and I got stranded in the middle of nowhere, our car broke down. And a freezing storm passed over us. But you kept us very cozy that night. And when you started that campfire because Bart’s cheap lighter wouldn’t work. That’s when I knew. So it’s okay, you don’t have to deny what you are anymore. Erica and I will always love you. We will always be here for you.”

While still torn inside, it’s far less of a division than before. “So Dad, I’m still human, right?”

“Very. And you’re still my little Fy. You always will be. So,” he gets all excited, “what can you do?”

“You promise not to tell anyone? I mean, I can keep my ears hidden right?”

“Hon, your ears are probably gonna keep growing. Every Super-Human is different in powers and appearance. Like, there was once a guy with four arms kind of different. He wasn’t allowed into professional boxing. I would suggest it’s best to start getting used to being known as someone with superpowers.”

“Four arms? You’re probably right.”

“So come on, what can you do?”

She sighs. “Okay.” She stands up off the couch, faces her dad, and from each of her palms an orange-red wave of fire vertically erupts up, crackling in dual towers of flickering flames that reach up to her face. The light of her flames reflect off the green of her eyes with an otherworldly glow unlike anything Rob has ever seen.

“Wow. That is so cool.”

“Thanks Dad. I,” she stares into her own fire. Her voice suddenly becomes dead-serious and distant, “I knew about Super-Humans already. But, I didn’t want to cause problems, for you or Mom. I just wanted to be everyone else’s normal. Fit in, not cause any scenes, just live my life. Guess I don’t have much of a choice anymore,“ she kills the flames. “So uh, is Mom going to be okay with this?”

“Trust me. She will be.”

* * *

Fy continues to go to school, and tries to keep her ears hidden. But they eventually grow past her red hair and she has to let everyone know. She becomes the number one topic of the school’s rumor mill. Her ears grow larger by the week, and as they do, her hair changes into an impossible yet natural fiery red, serving as a second announcement of her Super-Human status.

Many kids get envious and tease her, calling her various names. But her real friends think her Super-Human status is totally cool. Her dad says it would be easier to keep her fire-powers hidden, and she agrees. In addition to her control over fire, she has enhanced strength, speed, resilience, and reflexes. And she lets it be known far and wide that she does.

Bullies quickly become extinct at her school. She plays her cards right and prevents sending anyone to the hospital. Seeing Fy lift a vending machine over her head makes one bully piss his pants—and the entire school finds out about it. She not only sticks up for people, she helps them to find the confidence and integrity needed to stick up for themselves, both psychologically and physically, no matter who they are. She makes quite a few friends this way and inspires kids to transform from punching bags into living breathing human beings, with inherent rights to defend themselves. It creates a slight schism among the teachers, but it also eradicates bullying. Erica doesn’t have to go back to school, but she does have talk with the teachers.

Fy is sitting in class doing her math work at her desk, when the teacher has to leave for a moment. This leaves an opening for someone who still does not like Fy to attempt another inflation of her ego.

“Hey dumbo, cheating at math again?” Penny says.

Fy come-backs in no time, “Not off you, I’d fail!” Some of the kids laugh.

“Whatever, your ears are still stupid.” Penny walks off, defeated. And only more resentful now that she is. She knows she can’t win, and so she stops playing.

The teacher walks back in, and it’s as if nothing happened. Penny acts like she’s sharpening a pencil. A plan she had all along. Acting she has learned to do very well. And will continue to improve upon for the rest of her life.

* * *

The night is freezing. Freezing for Rob anyway. He and his thirteen year old daughter are on a hunting trip, in the middle of the woods. They’ve set up camp in a large clearing and taken relaxed seats on a log. He’s dressed in his warm hunting gear, and Fy is dressed in hers, so she doesn’t have to concentrate on her power so much, or make her dad feel awkward.

Rob takes good care of himself, and he’s aged well. Maintaining his masculine physique and youthful personality. Even though he forget to shave, and has a beyond five o’clock shadow. Erica’s not the biggest fan of hunting trips, although she does enjoy the natural environment. Normally, she would tag along, but it’s time for the maturing Fy to begin the more advanced lessons. Lessons that her father is best suited to teach.

It’s a cloudless night of endless stars. Piercing cold would envelop them if not for the cozy and crackling campfire. Seated on a comfy log, near warmth and light, with bellies well-fed, the atmosphere is perfect to discuss the subject at hand.

Rob says, “Do you remember when Cuddles passed on?”

“Yeah, that was a sad day. You know I think he always knew it was you, with the laser pens. And he just wanted to make us laugh.”

“Yeah, I think so too. I brought him up because I wanted to talk with you about one of—if not the most—difficult subjects there is,” the campfire throws shadows across their faces. “Death.”

“What did, you want to talk about?”

“Tomorrow we’re going to kill an animal. Probably a rabbit. And we’re going to give incredible respect to it. Make use of every part of its body we can. We are on this hunting trip so you can see first hand the things you don’t see in the modern world. What life was like for humans long ago, before all this technology. And to feel the preciousness of life. Not just human life, but all of life. Even the trees around us, and the insects crawling about. The interconnected Nature of it all.

“I’m not trying to gross you out, and ‘make you tough’ or anything. I’m only doing what I can to show you reality as it is, beyond human civilization. Because civilization, is not all there is to life. What we kill tomorrow will be part of the natural order of things. We will be like the hunters of old, doing what is needed to survive ourselves, while also doing all we can to take care of the life around us. What we do tomorrow will not be murder—it will be natural. You know the delicious meals your mother cooks. You know where that meat comes from. But have you seen where that meat comes from? There is a big difference between natural death, and unnatural death.”

Fy pays powerful attention to her father’s words. “I think I see what you mean. So like, you’re talking about, what if Cuddles didn’t die of old age. What if we had let him outside knowing a dangerous road was right there, and some careless driver ran him over. Something like that?”

“Yes. Those things, if they had happened, could have been prevented by people making better choices. Choices more considerate of life. You see, Cuddles death was not the result of something we could have changed. It was natural, and Nature is a power beyond our control. Nature is not evil, but it is, mysterious.

“There’s a lot of different ideas about life and death out there. Beliefs, philosophies, and what have you. I’m going to tell you some of mine. You can believe whatever you’d like to believe. But with that being said, let me also say this: the truth is always the truth, no matter what you believe. You jump off a building, you fall. That’s truth. Beliefs can’t make you fly. But truth doesn’t only encompass the physical dimension, what your normal everyday five senses can detect. Truth also governs the non-physical reality, what you normal everyday five senses can’t detect. Mental, emotional, creational truths. Some truths have to be seen with something more. Something, internal.”

Wind gusts an invisible hand across the campfire, making the shadows dance faster upon their faces for a brief, cold moment. “We should fight for more life, to protect it, enjoy it, and honor it. Because this life, doesn’t last forever. But that profoundly deep and passionate respect for life only develops in one way—by facing up to death. The death of others, but also the eventual death coming for us. The realization of this reality, this fact of death, accepting the reality of death’s approach, makes every second of life precious beyond measure. More valuable than all the world’s money. Beautiful beyond description. Every moment of life has value that can not be measured Fy. Doesn’t matter if we can see it or not.

“I know this is a lot to think about, and I don’t want to overwhelm you, or make you fearful. I’m not promoting death here, I’m promoting life. I’m introducing you to the real. Not what you see on some television show, or a movie, or what have you. That’s all fiction, and that’s fine. But, there is this reality that will never go away. A place where we’re guests, not gods. A place where we’re students, not almighty deities. We are travelers here, explorers finding our way. This is a place where we can ether live with spirit, or be nothing more than a ghost.”

“So, what happens when we die?” Fy wonders.

“Well, that is a mystery. Some believe, depending on what we do in this one single life we go to an eternal heaven or an eternal hell. An eternity of joy and peace, or an eternity of pain and despair.”

“That’s not fair. Just one life determines it all? I mean, I’m not saying it’s okay to be bad, but shouldn’t people be given another chance?”

“Yeah, I say the same thing. And others say there is nothing after death. That when we die, our bodies rot along with our minds, emotions, and awareness. That our sense of being, our Consciousness, what we feel, our entire internal experience, is nothing more than the by-product of a brain and chemical interactions. It’s all just an oops, and it’s all doomed to die, and it will all degrade into nothingness.”

“That sounds… boring. That doesn’t seem right to me at all.”

Rob’s chuckle is as warm as the campfire’s. “Doesn’t sound right to me either. And, believe it or not, there is scientific evidence against that idea. But we won’t go there right now. I’m simplifying all this, mind you, but there is a third major school of thought. One that says we move on.”

“Move on?”

“Yes. The word is reincarnation. After we die, our awareness will move on to a world beyond this one. But we will come back, in time. The idea is that there is a lot more going on than what our five senses, and our technologies, can detect. There’s plenty more to the universe than physical matter. And while we’re here, in the material world, we can,” his pauses to let the words find him. “Warm it up. While we’re here our spirit has a chance to express itself, to shine, to bring life, love, and experience into this world. To bring warmth into the coldness of matter. However, eventually we get snuffed out. But that fire comes back, again and again.”

“Comes back?”

“Think of it like this,” Rob pulls a matchbook out of his shirt pocket, plucks a match out, and strikes it. Its little fire burns bright, as if the campfire were dimming its light so that little fire might shine too. “This fire will die shortly. The match will burn out, and the fire will be gone. But not forever.”

The little fire dies. He strikes another match. Another fire returns. “The match was dead, but here goes more fire. The same fire comes back with a new match. And after this one dies, another match will bring back the same fire. And after that, same thing. Wherever this fire comes from, it’s eternal.

“If I struck up a million match sticks, if I had the entire planet full of matches to strike, if I struck so many matchsticks I filled the entire universe full of ’em, I would still find, after all that effort, fire at the end of it all. The matchsticks—the material world, comes and goes and changes and dies. But, my dear Fyrona…

“Fire is forever.”

Fy repeats that line under her breath.

“Where we truly come from is a spiritual world where that deepest sense of what we are, traditionally called the spirit, is out to learn the lessons it needs to learn. It moves into new bodies over and over again, new personalities, as it remembers and forgets what it needs to in order to express itself in new, one-of-a-kind, and precious mortal ways. You see, there is the social ego mostly created from society, that is for the most part nothing more than a programmed robot. But than there is the authentic Self, mostly created from spirit, from Nature, from pure Consciousness. The authentic Self has other names, such as the soul of a human being. The words can get confusing because different people use them in different ways. The definitions are subject to change depending on the speaker. You are born from spirit, but you are not born with a soul. The soul, the authentic Self, is something you acquire while you are here, in this world. It is mortal and precious beyond belief. And it is something society has a real bad knack of suppressing. The immortal spirit constantly seeks to create a mortal Self, so that it may experience this mysterious, amazing universe. And it does this more than once, becoming different people in different places and times, to continue learning and developing from the lessons of this material world.”

The wind is suddenly still, while an invisible harmony of fire and shadow dances into reality upon their faces. “Learning what though Dad?”

“That’s the question dear. The big one. The question countless people across the ages have sought an answer to. What is this all about? What is the meaning of life? Is it all just an accident, or is there a grand meaning to all? There are a million and one ideas on this. But I think, at the end of the day, the most important answer to that question is: the meaning of life is what you yourself make it. The way you choose to respond to reality. People search far and wide in the world for this thing called ‘meaning,’ but what if that’s something you yourself have to create? That it’s not something ‘found,’ it’s created, from your own Self.”

Background crackles of a campfire sing to whispers of gentle winds.

Fy finally says, “So, you said: ‘The way you choose to respond to reality.’ Does that mean there is a reality outside of us that we can’t do anything about, and than, there is a reality inside of us, that we can do something about?”

“Essentially. Some aspects of the reality ‘out there’ can be changed, some can not. There are Natural Laws, far above any man-made ones, as we’ve discussed before. We’ll talk more about them as time goes on and you grow up. The aspects of external reality that we can change are only changed as a result of what we change inside of ourselves. Without the intention to do something, the body will never take the actions required to get it done.

“But than there are aspects of external reality that simply cannot be changed, that are beyond our choices. They are Natural Law, and we ain’t changing ’em, period. I’m helping you to understand the difference between what you can change, and what you cannot. You could not have stopped Cuddles from dieing, that was not your choice. He was taken care of the very best he could have been. But now that he’s passed on, you have a choice. Do you let his death bring you down forever, keeping you in a state of depression, and preventing the beauty in your own life that could have been? Or do you make his death mean something, fueling you on to create more beauty in your own life? I’m not saying we shouldn’t mourn, of course we need that time. But, let me say it like this: There’s no point in complaining about the rain, because it’s gonna fall no matter what you say. Might as well wash yourself off in it.”

She knows her dad knew what memory that would bring up, and she smiles at him. “I think I see what you mean. But, it still hurts, you know?”

“I know. It still does. But we have to press on, and become stronger as a result of what happens. Not weaker. I know those are just words, and I know that is not easy, but we must. We decay if we don’t.”

“I hear you. So is this why the world is all messed up? I mean, people aren’t valuing life like they should be?”

Rob glances at his daughter straight in the eyes, and chuckles at himself. “Well. That’s another thing altogether. How do I say this…”

The campfire still burns strong, and if they wish to keep the warmth it provides they will have to keep the shadows it casts. There’s no other way.

“It’s okay Dad, I’m not afraid.”

Fy’s eyes are two emerald souls that belong to one spirit who craves to be set ablaze with knowledge, that demands to dive into the forging flames of understanding, that will walk with the evil-scorching fires of wisdom, no matter how far her travels might ever take her. Rob does not look at his daughter, his friend, nor any sort of label, title, or role. He simply looks at a fellow human being, who is also seeking a path through a world large and looming, complex and booming, and often confusing and strange. Yet beautiful and wondrous all at the same time.

“Fyrona, what I’m going to talk to you about is something your mother and I have been discussing for a long time. It’s very… heavy, to say the least. We agreed that when the time is right, I need to discuss it with you. And I think the time has come.”

“Dad, the world isn’t messed up, only because people are making bad choices. Is it?”

“…No.”

Chapter 5