"I'm fine!", Bob shouted, "I'm awake, I'm fine, I'm awake! I'm fine!"
He looked around in a hospital room, dark, dripping with rain, and voices that murmured names, and telephones that quietly rung and beeped. He had lied to himself, seen the danger, seen the animals of Noah's ark blast into his diner… Seen the information in his head bubble and inflate faster than his stupid life pop.
Bob stopped, then quietly bowed his head in silence.
The nervousness faded away. He felt numb, he was cold, and there was nobody in the hospital, except for the faint beeps of the heart-rate monitor.
Beside him, a remote control lay dully against the moonlight. He tried to turn on the television, but it was static. Something beeped, but it was only the sounds of his heart croaking out blood.
He saw a tray of food lying near his bed on a separate table. Hunger drove him to drag it off onto the bed, and he ate slowly with a fork and then felt a rush of warmth flow through him again. He felt lighter than the morning air.
Something starting with an S...
His memory was foggy. His head felt funny. He felt lighter as he held the fork. But then… It was ….
The Strontium Process… That was it...
Rays of warmth, hallucination, possible death, he remembered, and that was the Strontium Process. Sudden, random, rare.
Perhaps, he could be better than UltraMan. Better than SpoonMan, Lawnmower Man, TrashCan Man, Fingerman, SomethingMan, or even Man, a strange incongruous blob that ate anyone that walked near him.
A nervous laugh, part excitement, part questioning, burst deep from inside him.
His heart throbbed with the feeling that he wouldn't live longer, while his brain pulsed with excitement and a feeling of near-lost death.
He never fell asleep. He stayed awake for the entire night.
"Morning."
"Yes?", he said, with a little deadening jitter in his legs, "I'm awake"
"He awake?", said a voice from outside.
"He is, sir", said someone else, whom he couldn't see.
A bearded man walked inside. Big, gruff, with thin legs and a casual smile.
"You're awake, that's good", the man put up a wide smile and laughed, "Address me as sir, but I'm Almost-Captain Gregory Sr."
"Good morning sir!", Bob returned the greeting with a nonchalant smile.
He squeezed Bob's hands, "I'm part of the Police Database."
"Yes, yessir", he nodded and laughed aloud. A warm, oddly polite laugh reverberated through the room.
"Don't laugh. Here, let me finish. I-"
"Yes, yessir", he nodded again, quieting down, staying motionless.
"Don't interrupt-", the bearded man sighed, covering his forehead with a limp, boring hand, "Okay, let's get to the point, Strontium Process, entered into Database. We wish you a farewell, and goodbye"
"Yes, yessir. But wouldn't you rather know about my powers? Perhaps maybe-"
"Don't interrupt. First off, do you often splurge on your money? How is your bank?"
"Your bank account", said the nurse that had randomly appeared.
"Yes, yes, he knows", the man said, nodding.
"What?"
"Your bank account", said the nurse again.
"Your money, your moolah, your millions, your bucks"
"No, I don't… spend much… But I don't have much… What does this have to do with-?"
"No, no, we've already done that! Let me and the nurse talk for God's sake!"
"But I don't-"
"We've seen your credit score, Mr. Bob", the nurse quietly explained, shaking her head, "Have you seen how low it is?"
"No, I don't spend on my-. But what? I was wondering if we could talk about-."
"You're being discharged from the hospital. Your hospital bills mean that you are currently in debt by over two thousand dollars", said the nurse.
"No, no, no. But I have the money. Why do I have to pay?...", he paused and stared into Gregory's wrinkled eyes. "But the powers, I can punch through walls if I hold a fork, I know that. I have at least something interesting, something astounding…I don't understand."
"What do forks have to do with debt?", asked the man
"I can use my powers through forks", Bob held up a fork in front of them, "See, If I hold it-"
"That's okay, that's fine…. But we're going to have to discharge you"
"Don't you need my information? My powers, the fork, isn't that-?"
"Well, we're going to need to contact your credit card provider first."
"Credit Card Providers? But I-"
The bearded man sighed, the nurse kept quiet, and Bob shifted awkwardly around in his bed.
"I thought we talked about this Bob...", the bearded man sighed.
"We'll see you out on the desk", the nurse gave him a slip of paper, then a contract, eventually a large stack of papers and forms piled up onto his bed, "Remember to pay this when you get home."
Then, the bearded man walked away, drowsy, unkept, unshaved, ready to argue about money with the next customer, then the next, and the next, going on and on.