Too Many Cooks

Divergent - Chapter 6

Previously

Andy’s imposing figure worked against him. Nobody stops to give a lift to someone his size at that time of night, especially when you’re near a hospital. No telling what sort of weirdo who’s had to go to A&E you could end up with.

Summoning what little energy he had left Andy dragged himself to a nearby park and slumped onto a bench. He looked to the clear night sky for answers but in return all he got was silence.

As he stared at the stars an overwhelming feeling of insignificance and loneliness engulfed him. The events of the day came crashing in on him. He fought back the growing urge he had to scream while he wept until his tears ran dry. He sat without moving for a long time. His mind eventually stopped whirling but it was more out of numbness than peace.

A sudden cough made him jump. Looking round he saw a dishevelled old man standing a few feet away. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Andy recognised him as one of the homeless people who were all too common in these parts. Everyone knew him as Scratch and he’d been in the area longer than Andy had been alive.

“Alright if I sit with you?” Andy nodded and shuffled down the bench.

Scratch sat and looked thoughtfully at him, a compassionate half-smile on his face. “It’s not easy being different, is it,” said Scratch. It was not a question but Andy wasn’t sure which of the two of them he was referring to.

And then, without meaning to, Andy found himself telling Scratch everything. How he felt he’d let his friend Pete down while being in an impossible situation. How angry he was for having been put in that situation The car accident. Pete’s mother’s reaction. He even told him about his new-found ability, although he didn’t expect Scratch to believe him.

“I didn’t ask for any special power. I’m just a kid. I don’t want this kind of responsibility!” Andy looked imploringly at Scratch.

“You sound like you’re channelling Spider-Man.” Scratch smiled kindly and Andy laughed, suddenly feeling understood and less alone.

Scratch talked to Andy for a long time. It was as though he was inside Andy’s head and knew just what to say to help him make sense of it all. And how to better accept the things that just wouldn’t make sense.

Andy was surprised at his depth of wisdom and understanding. Like everyone else in the town, Andy has never seen beyond the label of “Scratch, the homeless guy” and he felt ashamed.

“So what about you?” asked Andy. “How did you life bring you to where you are?”

For the briefest of moments Andy thought he saw Scratch’s blue eyes turn orange but he dismissed it as a trick of the light from the rising sun.

“Well that,” said Scratch, “is a very long story.”

Divergent - Chapter 5

Previously

The hospital room was hushed and dim, save for the low beeps and lights coming from the monitor and IV pump. A slight woman sat hunched by the bed, holding Pete’s hand with hers and a rosary wound around both. She looked up when she heard Andy’s hesitant footsteps.

“How is he? Will he be okay?”

“You leave this room right now Andy. I know what you did. You did nothing. You were there and you did nothing. You let that boy beat Pete into a pulp and you did nothing until it was too late. After everything you two have been through. After everything your mother and I have been through.”

Andy was stunned. He did not expect her quiet fury directed at him. After all, he stopped the beating once the car was out of commission. But surely he couldn’t explain that. Who would believe him? “I’m…I’m so sorry. I did my best. I pulled Chad off of him as soon as I could. The crowd was so thick and a car came flying down the hill and…”

“You. Get. Out. Now.” Pete’s mother hissed at him. The look in her eyes told Andy all he needed to know. He backed slowly out of the room, tears in his eyes and hands in his pockets. “I’m so sorry, Pete.” He whispered as much to himself as Pete. “I’m so sorry.”

Everyone knew the old man was dead. It had been a fluke thing, something that no one could have prevented. He was an old diabetic and had a massive stroke while driving home from the pub. He hadn’t even been drinking. Just a bowl of stew and a nice hunk of bread for lunch, as he had nearly every day. Nobody knew how many lives Andy had saved but Andy, and now he had no one to talk to about the whole ordeal.

Andy hung around outside the hospital until the last visitors made their way out the front doors to the parking lot. He watched Pete’s mother leave. Then he slipped up the sidewalk to the doors and as someone came out, he went in. The door latched behind him.

He quickly made his way up to Pete’s room. The last thing he wanted was to be stopped in the hall by some drill sergeant of a nurse or security guard and forced to leave. Night staffing was low as it had been when his father lay dying in this hospital. No one saw him, and he turned into Pete’s room and sat down.

“Pete. It’s me, Andy.” He peered into his friend’s bruised and swollen face. “Pete, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?” Nothing. There was no movement; no flutter of eyelashes as there would be on a theatre screen. There was only the rise and fall of Pete’s chest, and a painful silence.

Andy had an idea. He took Pete’s hand. He closed his eyes. He matched the rhythm of his breathing to Pete’s. If Spock could do it, maybe he could, too. He felt the electrical tingle. “Pete.” He whispered almost imperceptibly. “Pete, can you hear me?”

“Of course I can, you jerk. What are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough already?” Andy’s eyes flew open. Still no movement. Pete wasn’t speaking, but Andy could hear his answers. At least he could until he heard them, snatched his hand back and opened his eyes. Andy broke out in a cold sweat.

Pete’s nurse came in on her rounds and jumped when she saw a visitor in the chair. Andy was feeling queasy. All he could do was sit there, sweating and shivering. “You startled me.” The nurse said softly. “Visiting hours are over, hon. Do you have a ride home or shall I call a cab?” Andy sat there limply. He was not sure, but he thought he might puke.

The nurse turned on her little flashlight, and shined it indirectly at Andy. The sweaty sheen and pasty face were all she needed to see to know why he wasn’t answering her. “Are you okay, hon? Here, put your head between your knees for a tic. Or we could lay you on the floor, although if it were me, I’d stick to the chair. Germs and all that.”

She spoke kindly and Andy bent over as instructed. “Can I get you a cup of water? Or juice? Have you eaten today?”

“No.” Andy choked out single syllables. “Juice, please.” The nurse turned on her heel and was gone in a flash to get the juice. She returned just as quickly. “Sorry kiddo, we only have fruit punch. It isn’t very good, but it should keep you going until you can get something else in you.” She punched a tiny straw through the top of the plastic cup.

Andy sipped. It was so nice and cool. He took his time; he wanted to be sure what he drank would stay down. Juice nearly came out his nose. “It might work better if you sit up now.” “Oh yeah.” Andy had forgotten he was bent over. His thoughts were spinning and incoherent.

“Better?” He nodded. “Okay, now you really do have to go. Do you have a ride?” Andy nodded again. “Yeah, my mom is waiting for me outside. Sorry. Thank you for the juice. I think it helped.”

“Good. You were looking pretty pasty for a minute there. Now what is your name?” The nurse asked gently, but Andy knew she was going to need a name before she let him go. “It’s Andy.” “Okay Andy. Well it was nice to meet you. I’m glad you are feeling better, but it’s late and Pete needs his rest if he is ever going to wake up. Can you find your way out? I don’t have to escort you, do I?”

“No ma’am. I know the way. I promise I’ll go. I don’t really like it here.” Andy was serious. As he spoke he remembered how much he hated this place. “That’s good,” she answered. “There’s something wrong with you if you enjoy hospitals.” She chuckled. “Maybe I’ll see you next time. You get something to eat when you get home, okay? It isn’t good for you to wait so long.”

Andy nodded and shuffled out of the room, empty juice cup in hand. He flew down the stairs and out of the hospital, his head spinning. What had just happened with Pete? Could he help him wake up somehow?

Before he knew it, he was at the main road. Andy stuck out his thumb and tried to look like a waif. He was too tired to walk home.

Divergent - Chapter 4

Previously

A piercing wail from the car horn suddenly washed over the scene, providing a steady stream on which time floated. Even without Andy’s special powers, events like these frequently play out in movie montage slow motion. 

Cheerleaders, in their pleated skirts and school color ribbons tying off their ponytails, prepared to cheer, even if this turned into a blood sport. 

Cut to the car’s interior with a close up of the elderly man slumped over the wheel of the now guideless missile, his limbs dangling like a marionette without a handler.

A shot of a hand-painted banner at the end of the field that says “We’ve got spirt.” Banners didn’t have spellcheck like the countless mobile phones and cameras at the ready to record the fight. 

Another close up. Chad’s face fills the image with nostrils flared as he builds up steam. His eyes show how he savors the idea of squashing the little bug known as Pete. Pan and pull out to a longer shot of Andy as he makes it to the forefront of the crowd, trying desperately to steady his breath and focus.

Throughout, the crowd noise provides the background soundtrack. The teenage cacophonous squeals and jeers were stretched and flattened by the time distortion into a drone. 

Andy knew no one would notice the brief flash of orange in his eyes as he misdirected Chad’s punch enough to set him slightly off balance. Pete said a silent thank you to Andy as he felt the knuckles merely graze his shoulder. Pete’s quick thrust with the heel of his hand connected with Chad’s nose. He’d seen this maneuver on a TV show one day when he’d stayed home from school with a fever. He had watched intently as a man dressed in a padded suit that made him look like a giant duct-taped marshmallow creature taught women basic self defense tactics. 

The show was right. Chad’s nose was a vulnerable spot. The show’s instructor had pointed out that the crotch was another spot to target, but Pete couldn’t bring himself to knee another guy. If he’d had any idea of what was coming next, he might have reconsidered. His well laid nose shot had started a trickle of blood that sent the bull-like Chad charging full speed at Pete. As the frenzied mob’s attention remained solely on the combatants, Andy’s went elsewhere.

Andy winced as the pitch of the car horn sent a spike of pain through his brain. Looking back past the blur of other students Andy saw the car’s front lights staring directly down at him. Unobstructed on its current path, it was careening down the embankment that provided a naturally sloped wall behind the row of metal bleachers. This was the vantage point from which the students normally watched sporting events. 

Even in this slowed dream-like pace everything was happening too quickly for Andy. From the din of chaos he heard Pete’s voice telling him “size matters not.”

“Watch out!” he shouted as much a warning about what he was trying to do as about the car itself. Rather than try push back through the crowd Andy stood his ground and focused on the car. His entire body was tingling. For anyone else it would have signaled an electrical storm was rolling in.

Again Pete’s previous dictate resonated in Andy’s head. “Close your eyes and give it all you’ve got.”

The car didn’t slow but the steering wheel shifted, turning the front wheels too sharply and sending the car into a corkscrew roll. The crash of the car first flip snapped some of the mob away from the gladiators. Panic. Kids running in every direction. A few intrepid ones turned their cameras to try catch the new main event.

Andy could hardly stand but kept trying to will the car to adjust the path. Unsure if he had any control of it or it was just physics, Andy found that with the car flipped over onto the roof side he could spin the car a bit and sent it skidding into the back supports of the bleachers.

“Somebody call for help” Andy implored. “See if Coach is still here.” “Stop with the pictures. Are you all insane?” “We need help out here.” The painful spike in his head had subsided but now his whole body ached.

The corner of the bleachers had collapsed onto the car leaving it pinned much as Pete was still pinned beneath Chad’s continued onslaught of punches about his head and chest. Throughout the chaos Chad had blocked out everything except his rage. After rushing Pete, he had landed a shoulder in Pete’s midsection, driving him hard into the ground. Achieving the high ground he took full advantage, assaulting Pete with both fist and venom. Pete had tried to cover his face with his hands and squirm away but Chad outweighed, outmuscled and outfought him. 

Pete never saw this coming. He had been absolutely confident that Andy would save him. Andy was always there for him. How could this happen? Pain seared through his head as another blow connected with his jaw. He tasted his own blood as he tried to swallow and clear his throat for another gasp of breath.

Grabbing blindly at a couple of the guys who were still transfixed by the fight, Andy screamed “Help me break this up. He’s gonna kill Pete.” They knew Andy was right but they hesitated ever so slightly, knowing that they might pay later for crossing Chad. Several acquiesced because no one deserved what Pete was getting, even if he had been the moron who challenged Chad to begin with.

“Let go of me. I’m not done burying that jerk.” Chad struggled as he was pulled away from Pete’s bloodied body. Someone hollered that an ambulance was on the way and another voice announced that Coach was coming.

Andy collapsed to his knees next to Pete. His bloodied face had already started to swell and the blood was darkening and drying around the countless cuts. “Pete, you’re gonna be OK. Help is coming.” Tears were welling up in his eyes as he said words he knew he should say even if he wasn’t really sure if they were true. Pete looked really bad and Andy felt like even the weight of his stare would add to his agony.

Pete was barely breathing but managed to whisper “You were supposed to protect me.”

“I tried to stop you. And then there was …” but Pete gathered enough breath to spit out at Andy “I’ll never forgive you and I’ll never let you forget this” before succumbing to oblivion. 

Divergent - Chapter 3

Previously

Pete was at his usual spot the next morning, waiting for Andy and their morning chat before another long day at school. They only shared tech class and lunch; Pete’s morning walk with Andy always gave him a positive start to the day. Today was especially positive for Pete.

“Andy! Hey!”

“Why so happy? It’s not like it’s Friday or your birthday.”

“Did you try anything else last night?”

Andy stopped walking. “Listen, Pete. I thought about it, and I’m sorry I told you. Let’s just forget the whole thing ever happened, okay?”

“Forget it? Are you crazy? Just listen to me for a minute…”

Andy headed out again and Pete had to pick up his speed in order to keep up.

“Listen. I had a great idea! Remember all of those times you had to stop guys from bullying me? Well, now you can help me put a stop to it forever.” Pete’s eyes sparked with excitement, but they didn’t turn orange. He would never tell anyone that he had spent almost an hour in front of his mirror trying to move things with his mind, but his eyes never turned any color other than their normal brown. He knew it was stupid to try, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Pete, just shut up, okay? All of that stuff never happened.” The high school loomed before them. Pete knew he had to speak now or he would lose his chance to convince Andy that his idea was worthy.

“Listen. Just listen for a minute, dammit!” 

Andy stopped again and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Okay. What’s this great idea of yours?”

The words came tumbling out, as if he had rehearsed them, which he had. “You only have to do a little bit of that eye thing. I figured it all out. It will make everyone stop picking on me forever and I’ll never ask you for another favor as long as we live.” Before Andy could say anything, Pete took a quick breath and continued, “I’m going to pick a fight with Chad. We’ll meet out on the road behind the football field and you know it will draw a crowd. You’ll use your eye power to knock him out cold when I swing. I get a reputation for taking down the school’s biggest bully and you do a good deed for your best buddy.”

“Pete, you’ve had some goofy ideas in your life, but this one is beyond goofy. You’ve lost your mind. Let’s look around. Maybe we’ll find it. You’re gonna need it to pass your English test today.” Andy started looking around, chuckling at his joke.

“Andy, I’m not kidding. I’ve decided to do this whether you help me or not. You’d think a friend would want to help a guy, that’s all. I’ll see you at lunch.” Without looking back, Pete headed for the crowd that snaked its way into the building for another day of torture.

*****

Andy had to spend lunch with his coach, who had called a special meeting for the rugby team over morning announcements. It didn’t matter, as the gossip everywhere he went centered over what had “gone down” at lunch. Pete had challenged Chad to a fistfight right in front of everyone. Chad, never one to turn down his favorite pastime, accepted, commenting that it would make him happy to remove one more cockroach from the world. They set the date for Friday after school on the old road behind the football field. Andy just shook his head when he heard.

Pete was nowhere to be found after school. Andy stopped by his house, but if he was there, he wasn’t answering the door. He didn’t answer his phone, either. Andy decided that Pete had finally gone off the deep end and hoped he would get his senses back before Friday. If he backed out of the fight, he’d never live it down, but if he went through with it, he’d never live. One of the alternatives definitely sounded better than the other.

Andy didn’t see Pete again until Friday morning on the way to school. Pete seemed to be in good spirits and he didn’t mention the fight or Andy’s power. When Andy tried to bring up the subject, Pete said he didn’t want to talk about it and that there were no hard feelings. Something wasn’t right, but Andy didn’t know what to do to help his friend.

After school, Andy started home. He had decided to avoid the fight, as he didn’t want to see Pete demolished. It came as no surprise to him when he realized his feet were carrying him out past the football field instead of on his usual route home. He could hear noise before he even saw the crowd, and when he did see the crowd, his jaw dropped. Was everyone from school here? What was wrong with these people? Andy realized he had no choice but to help his friend, so he started shoving his way to the front of the crowd. Rugby skills came in very handy, and he was soon standing only a few yards away from the contenders. Chad and Pete were facing off, and Andy was sure Chad was enjoying every minute of it. Chad would want to take his time pummeling Pete; he enjoyed whipping a crowd into a frenzy.

The noise from the crowd made Andy think of their history class about the gladiators and the Roman colosseum. Pete would never last a day as a gladiator and if Andy didn’t help, he knew Pete wouldn’t last long here, either.

With all eyes focused on Pete and Chad, no one saw the speeding car crest the hill.

Divergent - Chapter 2

Previously…

“What’s it feel like?”

A small cloud of pollen settled on the heather behind the boys, like a contrail marking their path through the field. Andy turned to Pete and squinted in the late afternoon sun. “You know when you take off your sweater, in winter like? How the hair on your arms stands up and you can feel even the tiniest breeze? Like that. It tingles.”

As the boys approached the small copse where the older kids sometimes went to drink and smoke pot, Pete started scanning the ground. He spotted a discarded whiskey bottle and bent to retrieve it. He tilted it back and pretended to take a swig, eliciting a laugh from Andy, then he jogged 20 meters to the stump of an old willow and set the bottle down. He turned back to Andy and asked, “Think you can hit it from there?”

Andy bent down and picked up a few small rocks while Pete walked back to his side. Andy held out his handful of stones and stared at the bottle. His eyes flashed orange again, Pete was sure he saw it this time, and one of the rocks floated just above his palm. He narrowed his eyes and it sailed in a slow arc, landing halfway to the bottle. Andy laughed and focused again. The second rock appeared to hop off his hand and land just a few steps away. He slumped his shoulders and sighed. “They’re heavier than I’m used to. Maybe I should find some small pebbles.”

“Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you? Hm?”

Pete said this in his best Yoda, which wasn’t very good and sounded more like Miss Piggy with a head cold, but Andy still convulsed with laughter, dropping his last rock as he bent over double. When he was finally done, he wiped his eyes and picked up the fallen stone. “Alright, so you’re saying it shouldn’t matter. It’s not too big, right?”

“Close your eyes and give it all you’ve got.”

The stone hovered above Andy’s outstretched hand and then shot out with a bang. Both boys jumped back in shock, unready for the rock to break the sound barrier.

“Did I hit it?”

“Not even close. But try again, with your eyes open this time.” Pete handed Andy another stone and watched expectantly as Andy’s eyes glowed orange again and the rock hovered. Andy took one deep breath and opened his eyes wider. The rock shot out again and flew just the left of the bottle before embedding in the trunk of a black poplar. “Closer. Try one more,” Pete said as he tossed another rock to Andy.

The rock stopped mid-arc and rocketed in a straight line straight for the bottle. A few centimeters short, it stopped and hovered. Pete looked first to the rock, then back to Andy whose smile lit up his whole face. He nodded his head toward the bottle and Pete turned to see the rock fly straight up fifty meters and back down where it settled on the mouth of the bottle. Pete let out a whoop and clapped Andy on the arm. Then Andy saw the bird.

An unfortunate and unlucky pigeon had been flying overhead when Andy made his blind shot. In the excitement, he hadn’t noticed it rustling in the grass. He ran over as it shifted its wing one last time and went still. He bent down and picked it up, cradling the lifeless bird to his chest. Pete walked over and shook his head. “Shame about the bird. But it’s getting late. You want to try a few more from farther away?”

Andy shook his head, no, and sat on the cool ground, still holding the bird gently. “It’s not right. I didn’t mean for you to be hurt. I’m sorry.”

The bird fluttered in Andy’s hands, surprising him. He let it go and it flew away, back to whatever pigeon business it had been on earlier. “Must have just been in shock. Hope it’s okay.”

Pete watched the bird soar up and away, no worse for the delay. And he wondered if Andy’s eyes had glowed orange this time.

Divergent - Chapter 1

“So, are you going to tell me why you needed to see me, or are we just going to throw this ball to each other for another hour?”

Pete held onto the rugby ball while he asked the question and looked at his friend with concern. Andy had asked to meet him round the back of the church. Said he had something he needed to talk about. It wasn’t like Andy to want to talk about stuff so Pete knew it must be important.

They were an odd pair. Andy was built like a brick shit-house, as the locals would say. That he had chosen rugby over football made him even more of an outsider in the nowhere town where he and Pete lived. Football was the town’s religion, as was the way up North, and anyone who didn’t bow down and worship at the altar of The Beautiful Game was regarded with suspicion.

Pete was of average height for his age, and perhaps a little underweight. And he was clever. Very clever. That he’d rather spend time with his head in a book than kicking a ball around the football pitch didn’t sit well with his school-mates. His friendship with Andy saved him from being bullied by all but the very stupid. Andy ensured that even the very stupid quickly learned to leave Pete alone.

Like many in the town, Andy and Pete had been raised by just their mothers. Teenage pregnancies had resulted in a lot of single-parent families in the area. In Andy and Pete’s case, however, they had each lost their father to illness before they had reached their teens. Their mothers had met at a grief counselling group and formed a friendship which had passed on to the two boys.

“Andy!” Pete had waited for an answer but Andy just stood there staring at the ground. “What’s going on?”

Andy raised his head slowly and let out a long sigh. “Sorry mate. This is hard for me.”

Pete nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “No worries. Take your time.” He pointed to a couple of nearby headstones. “Let’s sit”.

They sat facing each other, their backs resting against age-worn marble. Details of who lay beneath were long since vanished.

Andy took a deep breath. “I’m not really sure how to…” he trailed off. “It might be easier if I just show you. Pass me the ball?”

Pete threw the ball to his friend. Andy crossed his legs in a semi-lotus position and placed the ball gently on the ground in front of him and simply said, “Watch.”

Pete unconsciously tilted his head slightly to the right, in that way that he does when something has aroused his curiosity, and looked intently at his friend’s face. For the briefest of moments he thought he saw Andy’s blue eyes turn orange but he dismissed it as a trick of the light from the setting sun.

Andy’s unblinking stare was fixed on the rugby ball. A rugby ball which was no longer resting on the ground. Pete watched in disbelief as it slowly rose into the air until it was at chest height. It then began moving forward, stopping in mid-air when it was a foot away from him.

Pete reached out and took the ball. He sat silently looking at it for a minute, his mind racing. When he finally looked up he saw a mixture of uncertainty and hope on Andy’s face.

They shared a nervous laugh. “Not quite what I was expecting,” said Pete “So, what else can you do?”

Andy looked confused. “ I…I don’t know. I haven’t tried to do anything else…”

“Yet.” Pete smiled, a hint of mischief showing in his eyes.