Hannah and the Hitman

Chapter 24

24

HANNAH

“The other day, I was there to help you carry a box of books up the stairs. Now you can lift that slab of tree without getting a hernia or slipping a disk?”

Brittany abandoned her Chinese for wine, the half-eaten carton of lo mein open on the counter, chopsticks sticking out. We both had glasses filled all the way to the brim.

“Yes. I can’t believe that’s what you’re asking after and not the fingering-by-Jack part.”

She waved her hand in a circle. “Don’t you worry. We’re gonna get to that. I’m saving the best for last.”

“You think that’s better than me being able to lift ridiculously heavy things all of a sudden?” Carefully, I took a sip off the top of my glass.

“If you don’t think getting fingered to orgasm by the guy you have the hots for isn’t better, then we have a problem. ”

I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s way better. Although one’s a little more explainable.”

“Did you tell him about this” –she pointed at her coffee table and twirled her finger in a circle again– “talent?”

I gave her a don’t be crazy look. “He met my family. Knows I had a brain tumor. I don’t want to push it.”

She plumped out her lower lip, tilted her head from side to side, considering. “Reasonable. So did you start that powerlifting class at the gym? Is that what this is about?”

I glanced down my nose at her with an as-if look. I had lots of looks I gave her, rotating through them depending on the seriousness or ridiculousness of her words.

“What? How else would you explain it other than you have newfound superpowers?”

“Superpowers?” I chuckled, thinking I hadn’t had enough wine for that possibility. “That’s a stretch.”

“Is it? Spider Man’s superpowers came on quickly after being bit by a spider.”

“I wasn’t bit by a spider,” I countered. This was an example of her ridiculous words.

“Explain then.”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. This… ability has come on since last week. First it was my favorite mug at work. I was talking to my mother, and I squeezed it too hard and the handle snapped off. No, wait. First was lifting my carry-on into the overhead on the plane. Then the box of books with you.”

“The breaking the mug thing makes complete sense. I’m surprised you haven’t broken shit sooner over her.”

We could talk all night about the issues I had with my mother, so I moved on. “Then, at my parents’ house, I ripped the bathroom door right off the hinges.”

Her mouth fell open. “Crazy, but again, it makes sense knowing what you went through during that dinner.”

I didn’t want to rehash that, so I pushed on. “Then Dan the mailman literally dropped two huge book boxes in my arms. They didn’t rip off. That’s when I started to see a pattern. So I picked up the rolling cart loaded with books as a test. Easy peasy. Then that.” I pointed at her log table.

“You’ve become abnormally strong out of the blue.”

“Pretty much. Yeah.”

She tipped her head to the side, studying me. “Taking any new medicines?”

I shook my head. I was on meds because of the tumor and radiation, but nothing new.

“No spider bite. Swim in toxic waste?” She snapped her fingers. “Maybe I’ve been right all along and you really are adopted and you came from Paradise Island.”

“Paradise Island?”

Brittany was a fan of comic books and one three-day blizzard, I’d been forced to read all about Wonder Woman, who was her favorite. Paradise Island was where she was born. Then we watched the movies.

“Funny.” I had to laugh because I loved Brittany so much. She watched me powerlift her coffee table and was taking it in stride. I was the most boring friend ever, so perhaps she was finally glad I had some excitement in my life–which didn’t involve dying.

The action made a little wine slosh over the brim and onto my fingers. I took a few big gulps to get the level down inside the glass as I wiped my fingers on my skirt .

Brittany took a swig herself, then shrugged. “She’s stronger than the earth. That’s you, Wonder Woman.”

“Obviously, I love a good story more than most, but this isn’t fiction, B.” I shook my head. While I appreciated her lightheartedness, not everything was funny. “This is my life and there’s something going on.”

“Think you should go to the doctor?” she asked, her humor replaced quickly by concern. “I mean, it was only a few months ago you had a brain tumor. Maybe it’s something to do with that.”

It had crossed my mind, but I had avoided the irrational panic I felt sometimes when I had a headache, or I felt a twinge anywhere in my body. I shook my head. “I got a scan two weeks ago, remember? All good.”

She sighed. “Right. All good. Not a spider bite. Not toxic chemicals. Maybe–”

“Radiation?” I tossed out. It was the only plausible explanation, and then it wasn’t that plausible at all. Radiation treatments were done for all sorts of things, tens of thousands of times a day around the world. It was a serious thing, but it was common. I hadn’t heard once, ever, of anyone getting superpowers–as Brittany put it–from the procedure.

She was thinking the same thing because she asked, “Did they mention crazy strength was a side effect?”

I shook my head. “Of course not. But it’s not like I can call up the doctor’s office and tell them about this.”

“I’m sure they’ve heard it all.”

“A psychiatrist, maybe.”

“If you’re not sick, then who cares?” She finished her glass of wine, then shrugged. “I’m jealous that out of the two of us, you’re the one who got superpowers.”

“And got fingered in the library.”

“Bitch,” she replied with a grin. “Let me get more wine and you can tell me all about the good stuff.”