Chapter 1

The first time it happened, I was sitting on a park bench, contemplating a rock. Not an auspicious beginning, but a beginning. I was rolling it around in my hand, thinking about how it was made up of millions or even billions of atoms. Each of those atoms held to each other through a variety of forces. I imagined all the energy in the rock, the intermolecular and intramolecular bonds, the van der Waals force, dipole attractions, even a bit of kinetic lethargy and gravity, all holding it together in a tight solid form. So much energy held, but so little released except in specific circumstances, usually in some form of combustion or other exothermic reaction.

My hand grew warm in the cool October air, and the rock poofed into a fine powder, spilling out of my hand, and blowing away rapidly in the breeze. I looked dumbly at the residue, and wiped it off on my pants. I could feel the warmth in my hand move up into my arm, and into my aching right shoulder. The cool weather seemed to make my bursitis, left over from totaling a vehicle on a highway while trying to dodge a railroad tie lost by the flatbed truck in front of me many years earlier, feel better.

I picked up another rock, and held it. I tried to find the thought, or emotion, or Zen moment that proceeded it, but nothing happened. Eventually I gave up, and wandered back out of the park to the diner I usually had lunch at.

The ‘cheerleader,’ as I thought of her, gave me a perky greeting as I entered the diner. I pointed over to my usual table, and she nodded, and told me “I’ll be over with the menu in a moment, coffee first, right?”

I nodded and moved towards the table. My usual shuffle seemed looser today as I moved to the green vinyl bench seat that looked out over the street, and the park across it. Moments later my coffee arrived, and a menu dropped on the table. I looked up at the perky girl and gave her my order, “Big burger, blue cheese and bacon, extra seasoned fries, extra ketchup, extra napkins.”

She nodded, and swiped the menu off the table. I doctored the weak coffee with a bit of cream and sugar, and sat back to stare out the window. The noise increased as lunch time rolled along, and the place almost, but not quite, filled up with customers. I leisurely enjoyed my burger and fries, taking a good hour to eat. I had nowhere else to go today, and lunch had been my big meal for a couple decades.

I eventually got up, paid at the register, used the bathroom, and walked around the block to my building. A few steps down from the sidewalk was the entrance to my basement apartment. I’d have loved to live in an upper apartment, but the rent on them was just too good. Plus the stairs to the entrance of the upper apartments were four times as many as the steps down to the basement.

I napped off and on in the recliner with the TV on during the afternoon, until it was time to get up and make dinner. The cat wanted to be fed, and she was my reminder to eat dinner. I made a small salad from a bag, and gave Camellia, my calico, her can of food. I left her food in the kitchen so I wouldn’t have to smell it, and sat on the couch to watch a movie.

Finally, I went to bed. All day my mind kept going back to the rock. I laid awake longer than normal contemplating what had happened.

The next morning I had a call from an upstairs tenant. One of their power outlets wasn’t working. After a morning bowl of oatmeal for myself, a bowl of kibble and fresh water for Camellia, plus phone calls to the local electrician to check it out, I headed back to the park. My usual bench was empty as I passed it during my walk, taking the paved loop through, and around the park.

I paused to pick up a slightly larger stone as I passed the pond. I should have bent the knees more, the stoop over had me almost losing my balance. My back protested, but it wasn’t too far to my bench. I noticed it was occupied, so sat on the bench closer to the pond. I normally don’t sit there, because the ducks think that means they are going to get fed. You shouldn’t feed the ducks, they are filthy disease ridden creatures.

They didn’t seem to notice me, so I again contemplated the rock I had picked up. Almost immediately my hand warmed, and it poofed into a super fine powder. I tried to grab at it, to hold it. It seemed to almost solidify again as I squeezed the remnant in my hand. As I squeezed the powder I felt the heat travel up my arm, and down into my back. The pain that I had been feeling relaxed and faded away.

When I relaxed my fist, the remaining powder had solidified into a rock again, indented with the imprint of my fingers, and wrinkled hands. I peered at it through my glasses, marveling at the impression made. I slipped it into my pocket, and picked up another rock. I held it in my left hand, and contemplated it. I was thinking that I wanted to understand what was happening, and watched as my hand slowly warmed, and the rock slowly blew away into dust in the sudden stiffening breeze.

The heat moved up my left arm, and into my left shoulder. I couldn’t help the sigh that released. I knew that I was in less pain then I had been for years. I shrugged my shoulders experimentally, twisted my back a little, bent over and touched my toes. Lifting my arms above my head brought no pain to either of my shoulders. I excitedly reached for another rock, but nothing happened.