literature

Power Surge Ch 2

Deviation Actions

Agent505's avatar
By
Published:
1.3K Views

Literature Text

Suffice to say, there was only so much a person could do about such a problem without getting his hands dirty.  Such as it was, I didn't want to get my hands dirty, especially after finally getting the house clean.  A few days later, June 13th was to be the day I was scheduled to pick up Shelly at the airport, and I finished up an afternoon work shift so I could be free to meet her at the baggage claim by four.  
As the weather was warm enough - heck, it was downright the most pleasant June I've seen in recent years - I kept my nicer work clothes on and drove straight to the terminal and paid for short term parking, finding a bank of benches nearest to Carousel #6, where Southwest Airlines flight 1663 would be arriving from Orlando International Airport at 4:20.  City Pages in hand, I checked my watch and settled in.  3:46 PM.  Sure, I was in for a wait, but this was a finite wait compared to how long the spring had been thus far.  Shelly was going to come home for real this time, and I could afford to miss a nap, Jeopardy, and if it came to it, even my last meal if it meant seeing her again at last.
Michelle had opted to take the express bus that day to work at the Minnesota Zoo in Apple Valley.  She hadn't bargained on it being cold and rainy that morning, and she certainly didn't have the time to bike all the way there and back even though the weather cleared out.  Sure, she could've drove, but sometimes there's no good place to find a personal garage when your coworkers are watching.  And she didn't need them asking questions.
So that day, she rode near the back of the metro transit bus, quietly reading her own periodical - you might giggle to know it was Car and Driver - as the express bus cruised up route 77 back towards Minneapolis.  It was a fairly average load, comprised of passengers who were either bound for the Mall of America or the evening Flag Day ceremonies downtown.  For rush hour, someone might've called it quiet.
But as it turned out, for Michelle, quiet was perfect.  After all, she certainly didn't want the bus ride to turn into a travelling garage.
She was listening to her Ipod and reading the magazine as the bus suddenly braked hard, causing the person next to her to spill her Starbucks coffee.  Michelle quickly rubbed her lap to diffuse the heated elixer, but the damage was done.
"Look at that!  Is that a child?"
Suddenly everyone, including the coffee drinker, rushed up towards the front of the bus and screamed and moaned.  The driver pushed open the door and pulled the key.  "Everyone, stay put!"
Michelle gazed towards the front, but could feel her fingers tingling.  No matter what she could see hanging from the Minnesota River bridge's steel arches, it would have to wait as she slipped her Ipod into her pocket and abandoned the magazine, letting it slip through her fingers as her hands expanded and morphed into tires.
"Gotta hurry..." she uttered under her breath.  Moving quickly towards the rear side door of the bus, Michelle used her tires to their best ability and pushed the door open and spilled out onto the side of the bridge.  Though all onlookers may have had their eyes in her direction towards the scene ahead, she could not stop what came next.  Her feet transformed into tires, followed by her hips expanding and widening as they formed into the trunk of an automobile.  Her torso expanded and shaped itself into a passenger cabin with seats, a steering wheel and doors, before her cheeks, face and head absorbed the ear buds from her Ipod and turned blue before forming into the hood, headlights and grille of a Chrysler Sebring convertible.  
Summer was now able to employ her car senses, and get a clear view of the scene about a quarter mile ahead of her.  A young girl, perhaps seven or eight years old, was hanging from the highest crossbeam of the arched bridge, suspended over the road deck perhaps thirty feet above.  Ahead of the stopped traffic there was evidence of a car having gone over the rail, but no wreck to be seen.  
Traffic on the southbound bridge had came to a stop as well, and if any help were to arrive, it would have to come against the flow of traffic on the northbound bridge.  However, Summer could see that no help was en route, and she decided to act rather than wait.
Starting her engine, she drove carefully along the shoulder and lowered her roof before driving past the front row of stopped cars.  Using her rearview mirror to gauge her location, she broke her first rule of being Summer - never speak to anyone as a car unless they know who you are.
"Little girl?  Can you hear me?  I'm going to jump, and you're going to let go.  Understand?"
A few of the other drivers had stepped out of their car and looked it over, needing no more than a few seconds to realize there was no driver.  And now it was talking?  One of them had a cellphone taking video.  
Though Summer realized full well what she was doing, there was no going back.
"A talking... ohmygosh!"  The girl looked down, and seemed to be losing her grip.  "I'm... slipping..."
"The car... it did talk... right?" One bystander asked.
"Look!"  A man pointed up, putting out his arms as the girl began to fall.
Sure enough, she had lost her grip and was falling fast.  Summer fired her Turbo Thrust and knocked back the onlookers as she jumped up to meet the girl, catching the child with her driver's seat.  Her shocks caught a moment later and the crowd, though still stunned from the antics of the talking convertible and its sudden ability to leap, applauded.
"How in the world..."
"The car... however someone is controlling it... they're a hero...!"
The girl, dazed, looked around for a person to hug, but didn't find one, and instead hugged the seat, strange as it seemed.  "How... who... where are you?"
"I'm here," Summer replied.  She began to raise her roof and drove away from the scene before anyone could ask any questions.  "What's your name?"
"I did hear a voice... a talking car?"
"My name is Summer.  What's yours?"
She looked around the instrument panel and adjusted herself in the driver's seat, looking towards the radio.  "The radio's speaking to me...?"
"You're safe with me.  What's your name?"
"Um..." She gasped as the seat belt suddenly shot out and secured her to the seat.  "Ugh!"
"Sorry, I don't want you to get hurt as I take you home.  My name is Summer... I'd like to know yours, if I may."  
Finally, the child realized that she was being well taken care of.  "Alexandra.  But my friends call me Lexi."
The lights on the panel blinked once.  "Lexi, it's nice to meet you.  Where can I take you?  Were you riding with anyone just now?"
"Um... I was... but..." The girl closed her eyes and pulled her arms close, shaking slightly.
"Okay, you've been through a lot, you don't have to remember right now.  Where do you live?  Were you riding with your mother?"
"No... a friend... someone who lives with my great aunt..."
"Can I bring you to your house?  Where do you live?"
"Yes, my parents are home... they live in Bloomington."
Summer suddenly shot over three lanes of traffic, which were still empty as the main flow of traffic had yet to resume its daily course.  She quickly exited onto the exit for Old Shakopee Road.  "Where in Bloomington?"
"88th and Elliot."
"Don't worry about anything right now, Lexi.  You'll be home soon."

Summer followed the child's directions, and when Lexi was practically jumping in her seat and pointing at a blue house, Summer stopped.
"That's it!  That's it!  Honk your horn or something... Mommy!"
Summer did so as she released the seat belts, and soon someone was almost running down the door.  
"I saw the news... Lexi!  Oh Lexi!"  It was a pleasantly plump woman with bright brown hair and rosy cheeks.  She pulled open the convertible, not even noticing that Lexi had been in the driver's seat.  "Sweetie... did you drive here all by yourself?"
"Afternoon, ma'am.  My name is Summer.  Are you Lexi's mother?"
"She's a talking car, Mommy!  Isn't that cool?"
Suddenly the woman became apprehensive.  "How does this...?"
"Ma'am, your daughter is safe, and that's all that's important.  I'm sure she's safe in your hands?"
"Yes."  The woman took Lexi and held her close, almost wanting to pick her up even though Lexi was probably too big a child to be handled any longer.  "You said your name is Summer?"
"Yes.  What's yours?"
"Sara Finch.  Where are you?"
"Right in front of you.  I should be going... I don't know how Lexi got to where she was, but I'm glad she's safe now."
"Yeah..." The woman kneeled and stared into the car, searching for any sign of a driver.  "You're in the trunk, right?"
"I have to be going."  Summer pulled her door closed, making Sara jump and sending Lexi into giggles.  "Have a nice day."  She spotted a group of police cars, and ambulance, and no less than two local news stations coming down the street, and it was time to leave.
Summer drove away and took the next block, driving away from the scene and closer to a main street but in the shade.  Nobody seemed to be following her directly, but as she hid into a shaded area and began to cool off, she could've swore she saw a patrol car cruising the area.  As her form receeded and faded from automotive features down to flesh and limbs, her tires faded and reshaped back into hands and shoes.
Now human again, Michelle Peyton moved to her feet and carefully checked her surroundings to ensure that not only was her transformation ignored, but also that she wasn't being followed.  Convinced she was in the clear, she checked her pocket for her Ipod, which was still playing music, and reinserted the ear buds.
Walking down the street towards Portland Avenue, she stopped suddenly when a police car screeched to a halt beside her.  As her tunes were playing, she hadn't heard it.
"Excuse me?" a cop leaned across a laptop in the passenger seat.  "Miss?"
She pulled an ear bud from her left ear.  "Yeah?"
"Did you see a blue convertible come through here?"
Michelle narrowed her eyes.  "A convertible?"
"Yeah, a Chrysler Sebring... license plate NCX 679... cyclone hubcaps... black roof...?  Ring a bell?"
Smiling, she shook her head.  "Sorry, haven't seen anything like that."
"Thanks."  The cop rubbed his forehead and pulled away.
The smile turned to a sly giggle as Michelle headed up to the bus stop on Portland and waited for the next bus to arrive.

Back at Terminal One, I was causually watching CNN as I waited for 4:20 to arrive.  As it was only a few minutes past four, they were doing a story on Justin Bieber when the baggage carousel in front of me started to turn.  Several passengers had indeed arrived, and I began to wonder if the flight had arrived early.  
I strolled over to the arrival board a short walk away, and double checked the flight number.  Sure enough, it was early.  
Suddenly, someone covered my eyes.  “You had better not be touching my glasses.”
“So what if I am, Greg Claxion?”
I turned quickly and was laying my eyes on Shelly Starsetter.  The most beautiful girl in the world, all seven seas and all.  “I’ll kick your ass, that’s what.”  It was an empty threat - though I was ready to hold her, ass and all.  She was wearing her blue skirt, a white jacket and a green tee with green shoes.  But right then, all I cared about was her blue eyes and bright smiling face.
I didn’t hold back as I hugged her tightly, picking her up.  “Finally.”
“Were you waiting long for me?”
“About eight months... three weeks... two days... seventeen hours... nine minutes... ten seconds....”
She couldn’t stop giggling.  “You’re so silly.  Come on, my bag should be along soon.”
“What’s this?” I asked, finally noticing the duffle bag she was carrying.  “No purse?”
“They only allow one carry-on; my purse is inside.  There’s more in the other bag besides just clothing... I didn’t pack all that much, as you might guess.”
“How many pairs of seashells did you buy?” I asked.  I held her arm as we strolled back towards the baggage carousel.  “Six?”
“Three, I didn’t splurge all that much,” she confessed.  “In fact, most of what I brought was stuff for you.”
“Oh?”
“Home stuff, decorations, that sort of thing.  Hopefully it all survived... I packed them really well.  Guess I’ll find out.”
“Not more stuff from your grotto?”
She smiled.  “No, that wouldn’t survive this far from the ocean.  I’ll show you when we get home.  How‘s my bedroom?  Dusty?”
“Not as dusty as you might think.  I left it just like you left it... well, I might've cleaned a little...”
Her bag came up a moment later, and we chatted about the flight as we made our way back to the car.  
What I didn’t notice was that CNN had picked up a news story out of Minneapolis where a mysterious convertible had saved the life of a young girl and the developing story would be featured nationwide.

Shelly started off by telling me that she had hooked up with Megan before getting onto the plane this morning.  Apparently, Megan had really made an impression on her - it sounded like the two were quickly becoming blood sisters, as Megan did share a portion of Shelly's DNA.  I hadn't forgotten that Megan wouldn't even be a mermaid if it wasn't for Shelly, after all.
"She doing okay with the stuff at the lab?" I asked as we drove around the north side of the airport and back towards the house.  
"Those seaberry plants are in good hands.  They're waiting to collect a sizable crop before cultivating them for any nutritional and physical benefits.  Megan was thinking that they're probably looking at a least two crops before they have enough data."
I nodded.  "Good to know that she knows her beat."
Shelly chuckled.  "Or at least her berries."
"But what about little Kiki?  How's she and Naury?"
"Very good.  Mom was taking care of her when I left yesterday.  Naury is still there, and though Tony is getting awfully anxious to see his daughter, Mom thinks that Kiki should get a little bigger before even allowing her to dry off."
"Just like trying to get a human to drown, isn't it?" I asked.
"What's that?"
"Deciding if it's safe to let a mermaid dry out," I chuckled.
Shelly smiled.  "Yes, you're right.  It sure is odd, isn't it?  I guess I never had to make that distinction."
"Was it me that made you decide to come ashore?  Be honest."
"What, the first time?" Shelly shook her head.  "You weren't even on my radar yet."
"No, I mean, what made you want to become a human?  Was it me?"
Shelly thought a moment but hesitated as the radio cut out and the CCC channel activated.  "Hang on."
"Greg?  Shelly?  You guys there?"  It was Michelle's voice.  "You reading me?"
"Yeah.  You on the road or in the basement?" I asked.
"There's no power at home, I'm in the backyard and the door's closed."
"Michelle, did you change again?" Shelly chuckled.  "I didn't think it was that hot today."
"Right..." Summer trailed off.  "Listen, can I meet you someplace?  Or can you pick me up?  I don't know if I should be Summer right now."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Just come by the house and you'll see.  If I can get out of the backyard, I'll meet you a block over... go down Bloomington or something..."
"Summer... what's going on?" Shelly asked.
"I'll tell you when I see you.  Hurry up."

Curious as to what Michelle might've gotten into this time - maybe she drank some bad motor oil or something, though she didn't need to actually drink the stuff - I took the usual roads back to the house and proceeded to turn onto Fifteenth Avenue.  But instead of taking the turn, I instead slipped the brake and gazed down the block instead.
Three television trucks were there, as well as a police car.  The police cruiser didn't have its lights on or anything, but the trucks were running and all seemed to have their gear set up and ready to broadcast.  Outside one of them - maybe Channel 9 - a wire ran from the truck to a camera and cameraman, who was shooting an anchor with a mic.
"Greg... what's going on?  I can't go home yet, can I?" Shelly asked.
"No idea."  I quickly moved onto the next block and remembered what Summer had said to meet her on Bloomington Avenue, the next block east.  Turning onto the street, I was about to turn right when Michelle emerged from some nearby bushes and knocked onto the window.
"Hey!  Let me in!  It's hot out here!"
I hit the button for the lock and adjusted the air conditioner as a slightly wet Michelle opened the door and climbed into the back seat.  
"Drive."  Michelle didn't bother with the seat belt and was constantly checking her hands as she caught her breath.  "Shelly, hey."
"Hey..." Shelly tried to smile, but her expression turned from excitement to worry.  "What's going on?"
"Yeah, what's going on?" I asked.
Michelle motioned to the road ahead.  "Find a spot where we can talk.  Just keep the air on, okay?"

Following her suggestion, I drove over to a shady spot in the parking lot of the closed bowling alley along 77th street.  Once the car was in park, I unbuckled the seat belt and turned around in the seat.  "Okay, what's going on?"
"I thought I was doing the right thing... turns out they tracked me down.  I knew it was a bad idea to get a Minnesota license plate," Michelle adjusted the rear vents towards her face.  "How they did it... they're pros, your local media."
"Just start from the beginning," Shelly said quietly.
Michelle nodded.

Sure enough, she started from the beginning.  I marveled at myself for missing the news story that had made national news.  Michelle had done it right - none of the eye-witness reports that spoke with the news crews had any insight to the sudden appearance of the convertible, only that it came out of nowhere.  As I scrolled through the text of the story on Michelle's smartphone, I looked for any reports of a transforming woman - and felt lucky to find none.
"You saved the child, though... there was nobody else, and she was falling, right?  Michelle, you had to do it," Shelly said.  "If I were you, I would've hated myself for missing the chance."
Michelle brushed aside her hair.  "I know, I had to... but I could've brought the kid to her school or something... I didn't have to bring her home, did I?"
"Sure you did," I said.  "She was what, seven or eight?  You can't just leave her on the bus stop."
"I know, I know..." Michelle trailed off.  "All the same, I was pretty proud of myself for not being caught as Summer... but then, by the time I got down the block and up to the house, I was about to go in when the media people blocked the street.  They followed me to the front door, and I snuck out the back.  My heart was beating so fast, that not even a dip in the pool would've stopped me from transforming... and I did, on the patio..."
"Don't worry about it," I said.  "Don't change now."
She smiled, wiggling her fingers at me.  "I only knocked over a few chairs, don't worry, the patio set's fine."
"Forget about it," Shelly said.  "Then what?"
"I had passed through the kitchen and the garage in a hurry, and from the silence and the heat I could tell the power was out, so I kept going, knowing full well that if I changed in the garage, there'd be no escape.  Anyways... I contacted you on the radio, then dove into the pool, changed back and jumped the fence before waiting in the bushes."
We sat there and looked at each other for a few moments.  
Finally, Shelly spoke.  "So what does this mean?  I can't go home yet?"
"No..." Michelle sighed.  "You can always go home, Shelly... I don't want to be responsible for that..."
"No, right now, none of us can."  I turned to Michelle.  "If any of us head to the house, the media will want to question us.  They've already seen you as a human, right?  There's probably a shot somewhere on the media, and on the news if they've been able to locate you at the house... so there's a good chance that if they know that the convertible is licensed to you..."
"You don't have to say it!" Michelle practically exploded before catching herself.  "I'm sorry... I just... I'm so close to giving myself away now..."  She crossed her arms and held herself around the stomach tightly.  She was also spreading her fingers.
I put my hands on the steering wheel and took a deep breath.  Finally, after a moment of thought, I heard Michelle start to moan.  "Oh great."
"Really?"  I turned to see that her hands had turned into tires.  "Hand 'em here." I held out my hand and started a cold chill, putting my hand directly onto her left tire.  A moment later, the tire shrank beneath my cold touch, and soon the other tire shrank as Michelle's transformation took a break.  
"Thank you," she whispered, apparently thinking that any outburst would make her begin to transform again.
"Let's... let's just lie low for awhile.  Does anyone object to the mall?  It's large... it's cool... there's lots of places to hide there... we'll lay low for awhile and try to make it back to the house by nine, or whenever we think the news media have given up.  How's that sound?"
Shelly nodded.  "It's as good a plan as any."
"Michelle?" I asked.
She wimpered, but nodded.  
"Just try and relax.  Unless you think it's too public a place?" I asked.
"No, it's fine.  A public place is best right now... in a non-public place, I'd just transform again anyways."
"You're sure?"
She nodded.
"Right."  With that, I put the car into gear.
"Wait, Greg?  One moment?"  Shelly asked.
"What's that?"
"Can I at least arrange my luggage and get my purse out if we're going to the mall?  I don't want to leave it in the car, and I don‘t want to be going through it while we‘re at the mall, in case someone‘s watching."
"Sure."  I popped the trunk.
Shelly arraigned her luggage and pulled her purse out, and then once she was back in the front we all went over to the mall.
We depend so much on electricity these days... but what will happen if you depend on secrecy and security and lose that? Especially if you happen to transform into a car occasionally?

Note that the original title of this story was called Summer Lovin'. This just might be the reason why. Think about that for a moment.

prev: agent505.deviantart.com/art/Po…

next: agent505.deviantart.com/art/Po…
© 2013 - 2024 Agent505
Comments7
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
TheAwesomethreesome's avatar
Michelle did the right thing with saving the little girl.

But this leads me to one important question: Why was the little girl hanging from a railing on the Minnesota bridge to begin with, to me it seems asinine to do such a thing. I know that the girl is a least seven or eight years old but to me she showed a lack of common sense that has potentially exposed Michelle to the world.

Besides that, I am really enjoying this story. keep up the good work.