Crawling In My Skin
Once Larry left, Rob started pacing back and forth. Deb watched, slightly bemused. She took a sip of her coffee, and arched an eyebrow. “Okay, Larry leaves and you start pacing. Want to let me in on the story?”
He waved a hand, “I’m afraid he’s going to end up being right. That we will have to break in.”
She mulled that over, “Maybe,” she said, slowly.
“What then? How do we deal with that?”
She shrugged, “I guess we should just cross that bridge when we come to it.” She grinned wryly. “It’s not like I’d ever admit it to him, but I think Larry might have the right attitude.”
“You called him an idiot.”
“Well, he is.”
He sighed, “No, he’s not. He’s just trying to impress you. You’ve got to start being nicer to him.”
She glared at him. If only he would open his fool eyes, she thought. “Then tell him to stop being stupid about it. Anyway, it’s still a bad idea.” She shrugged helplessly, “What else can we do?”
He stopped. “I don’t know.”
She stood and went over to him, “Like you said earlier. We’ll get through it together. Right?”
She watched as all his doubts played though his eyes. Once they passed, his expression set and he nodded once. “Right.” He smiled, a bit uncertainly, “I don’t know what I’d do without you around to set me straight.”
She tilted her head, “You’d be helpless, Dalton.” She smiled.
“Yeah, I would.”
# # #
The rest of the day found Rob experimenting with his new ability. He supposed ‘ability’ was a good enough word. He wasn’t quite comfortable with this whole thing yet and knew the best thing he could do was to learn to deal with it, to control it. If he wanted to stay sane anyway. Although, after the last couple of days, he was beginning to wonder if sanity wasn’t overrated.
He wasn’t going to give up, though. A future drooling in a padded cell might hold some allure, but for now he wasn’t quite ready for that. To that end, he laid out a few objects on the coffee table in front of him. Keeping things simple, he started with one of the toothpicks he extruded the previous day. He sat forward on the couch and held the plastic toothpick in his hand. Nothing.
“I have no idea what I am doing.”
Deb leaned over the back of the couch and watched. “It just kind of happened before, right?”
“Yeah. It’s hard to describe how it felt. Like a pushing and pulling sensation at the same time.”
“Maybe try and focus on one at a time?”
“That might work,” he gave a half shrug. “It’s worth a try anyway. Here goes pulling.” He concentrated on recalling the strange pulling sensation. It wasn’t easy, and just recalling it sent shivers up his spine, but after a few moments, he felt something.
He tilted his head. His palm began to tingle around where the toothpick was sitting. “I think I’m doing it.” His brow knitted, “This is really weird.” He felt and saw a slight ripple in his skin, then shot out and attached themselves to the toothpick. Slowly, it sunk into his palm.
Deb made a face, “Talk about making your skin crawl. How’s your hand feel?”
“No different, really.” He flexed his hand, “A little stiff, but okay. Hand doesn’t look different either.” He held up a finger up and concentrated again, this time on the pushing feeling. Slowly, the toothpick began to emerge. Unlike before, sweat beaded on his forehead and he gritted his teeth.
Watching, Deb bit her lower lip. “Why is it harder to, uh, extrude the thing than to absorb it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s another thing we could ask the good Doctor.”
“Good plan. You keep practicing. I’m going to head to my apartment for a bit, grab a couple of things.”
“Okay,” he nodded, sighed, then grabbed the next object on the table.
He waved a hand, “I’m afraid he’s going to end up being right. That we will have to break in.”
She mulled that over, “Maybe,” she said, slowly.
“What then? How do we deal with that?”
She shrugged, “I guess we should just cross that bridge when we come to it.” She grinned wryly. “It’s not like I’d ever admit it to him, but I think Larry might have the right attitude.”
“You called him an idiot.”
“Well, he is.”
He sighed, “No, he’s not. He’s just trying to impress you. You’ve got to start being nicer to him.”
She glared at him. If only he would open his fool eyes, she thought. “Then tell him to stop being stupid about it. Anyway, it’s still a bad idea.” She shrugged helplessly, “What else can we do?”
He stopped. “I don’t know.”
She stood and went over to him, “Like you said earlier. We’ll get through it together. Right?”
She watched as all his doubts played though his eyes. Once they passed, his expression set and he nodded once. “Right.” He smiled, a bit uncertainly, “I don’t know what I’d do without you around to set me straight.”
She tilted her head, “You’d be helpless, Dalton.” She smiled.
“Yeah, I would.”
# # #
The rest of the day found Rob experimenting with his new ability. He supposed ‘ability’ was a good enough word. He wasn’t quite comfortable with this whole thing yet and knew the best thing he could do was to learn to deal with it, to control it. If he wanted to stay sane anyway. Although, after the last couple of days, he was beginning to wonder if sanity wasn’t overrated.
He wasn’t going to give up, though. A future drooling in a padded cell might hold some allure, but for now he wasn’t quite ready for that. To that end, he laid out a few objects on the coffee table in front of him. Keeping things simple, he started with one of the toothpicks he extruded the previous day. He sat forward on the couch and held the plastic toothpick in his hand. Nothing.
“I have no idea what I am doing.”
Deb leaned over the back of the couch and watched. “It just kind of happened before, right?”
“Yeah. It’s hard to describe how it felt. Like a pushing and pulling sensation at the same time.”
“Maybe try and focus on one at a time?”
“That might work,” he gave a half shrug. “It’s worth a try anyway. Here goes pulling.” He concentrated on recalling the strange pulling sensation. It wasn’t easy, and just recalling it sent shivers up his spine, but after a few moments, he felt something.
He tilted his head. His palm began to tingle around where the toothpick was sitting. “I think I’m doing it.” His brow knitted, “This is really weird.” He felt and saw a slight ripple in his skin, then shot out and attached themselves to the toothpick. Slowly, it sunk into his palm.
Deb made a face, “Talk about making your skin crawl. How’s your hand feel?”
“No different, really.” He flexed his hand, “A little stiff, but okay. Hand doesn’t look different either.” He held up a finger up and concentrated again, this time on the pushing feeling. Slowly, the toothpick began to emerge. Unlike before, sweat beaded on his forehead and he gritted his teeth.
Watching, Deb bit her lower lip. “Why is it harder to, uh, extrude the thing than to absorb it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s another thing we could ask the good Doctor.”
“Good plan. You keep practicing. I’m going to head to my apartment for a bit, grab a couple of things.”
“Okay,” he nodded, sighed, then grabbed the next object on the table.
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