Do you believe in Destiny? Is fate a sequence of events, predetermined by some cosmic creator? Or do we make those choices for ourselves?
Maybe we are all just captains of our own sailboats? Able to set the sails and adjust course, but still at mercy to the whims of the sea and the winds.
I was in elementary school when an answer to these questions began to reveal itself to me.
I lived in a bad part of town. The type of place where most of the kids had negligent or downright abusive parents. It’s only much later that I realize that was why the school bullies were so common. Many times, they were even violent.
I remember one incident in particular.
“Hey, Blackie,” James called to me as I attempted to sneak onto the school bus undetected. I was one of the only black kids in school, making me a prime candidate for James and his friends to pick on. It didn’t help that my name was Blake either.
“Don’t you want to stay after school for a bit? We have a cool new game we wanted to play”
I didn’t need to see his sneer to know that it wasn’t going to be a fun kind of game.
My apprehension rose as we walked into a small forest behind school. My heart fluttered as I wondered what messed up game we would be playing this time.
“Here, take this apple and put it on your head” He handed me the bright-red fruit as his lackeys snickered on either side of me.
James then pulled a small BB gun from out of his backpack and walked several meters back.
“Hey James, could you please stop. That could really hurt” I began to plead. I used a soft voice to avoid agitating him.
He ignored my complaints and his two friends grabbed me to make sure I wouldn’t move. Out of fear, I didn’t attempt to resist.
“Don’t worry Blackie, I’ve been practicing at home”
His two hands met at the handle of the gun and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the worst.
I heard the click of the gun and to my relief, I felt a splash of liquid as the apple fell off my head.
“Nice shot, dude” the guy to my right laughed.
James laughed too. “Lets try a smaller target” He exclaimed with excitement, as if a missed shot couldn’t quite literally have killed me.
To my horror, they decided the next target was going to be a clementine. One of the friends reached into his backpack to produce the tiny fruit, likely collected from his lunch.
Again, I closed my eyes, paralyzed with fear as he shot again.
If that shot had been any lower, I could have been either dead or badly hurt.
I began to tear up with fear and exhaustion.
“Wow, it must be your lucky day huh” One of the friends said, sharing none of my panic or anxiety.
“I know, right?” James agreed.
“Since I still have some shots left, let’s play another game. Have you heard of ‘Dance Dance Revolution?’”
I screamed and started sprinting, trying my best to dodge the pellets. One hit me in the back, another grazed my neck. Finally, one shot hit my Achilles tendon, sending me crashing into the ground.
I was sobbing as the 3 of them high-fived each other and walked over to admire their work.
“Holy shit, man down!” One of them said excitedly.
Finished with their sick game, they left me in the forest by myself. Snickering to themselves and calling me horrible slurs as they walked away.
The physical pain I was in was excruciating, but even worse; the indignant sorrow I felt. The utter disregard the universe had for me, allowing such a horrible thing to happen. In that crumpled, bloody heap, I truly felt worthless.
Something changed in me at that moment.
A primal fury started to well up inside me, washing over the sorrow. It is difficult to explain. It was a hot feeling, more malicious than rage. I felt the most intense desire to grab James’s ankle and smash him into the ground.
I watched their shapes get further and further as this feeling moved from my head and face, down to my left arm.
I pointed it at James’ figure in the middle of the 3 and closed my palm.
Two things happened. First, my palm lost all of its heat. It felt cold and numb like it was doused in ice water.
Then, I noticed in the distance: James’s figure crumpled while the other two were pacing around, panicking.
The feeling dissipated, leaving me feeling incredibly tired. I slept in that state for several hours, only waking up when the last rays of the waning sun hit my eyes.
I snapped awake in a panic, reaggravating my leg injury in the process. I was forced to use a nearby stick for support just to get up. As I passed the spot where I had last seen James, no one was there. There was however, a small but deep crevice in the ground, well hidden by the grass.
I didn’t think about it too much as I was already out much later than I should have been. I hobbled home as quickly as I could.
After an intense scolding, my mom took me to the hospital for my own injuries. I told her I got hurt playing outside but I’m sure she didn’t believe me.
James didn’t come to school the next morning. Or the next several.
I heard through some kids on the playground that he had either twisted or broken his ankle really bad. His two cronies never even looked at me after that. Though I’m sure they didn’t suspect me of being the cause of James’ accident, the whole incident likely freaked them out enough to leave me alone.
As for me, my injured foot was okay after a few months of rest. The more peculiar thing was what the doctor found when he gathered my information during the checkup. I lost 15 pounds.
The doctor was very concerned how an eight year old child could lose that much weight so fast, considering my last checkup was only a few months ago. They chalked it up to the stress of school and didn’t look into it too much after that.
I would spend hours at home experimenting with my newfound ‘powers’. It started with small things. I would try to make every light turn green as my school bus passed through them. I would close my eyes and attempt to harness the same energy that I felt when James hurt his ankle. Many times it worked, many times not. It was hard to say how much of the green lights I played a role in.
Some things didn’t work at all. Once, I spent three hours trying to knock a coke can off of a table. It didn’t move an inch. At some point, I had resigned James’ fall as a freak accident that had nothing to do with me.
Everything changed one night when I was in 10th grade. Some friends and I were walking back to our neighborhood after we snuck out to go see a movie. Just before we made it into my neighborhood, two men dressed in black stepped into our path. They didn’t waste any time getting to know us.
“Run your shit and nobody dies. Money, shoes, clothes, all of it” The guy on our right said in a quiet, deadly voice.
Coming from where I was from, we were ready to die for our respect. It was seen as more honorable to die than to have your jewelry taken. I had recently saved up to buy a gold necklace. I know it was stupid but I was ready to guard it with my life.
“Fuck you” I snarled. I had know idea what came over me. I was ready to risk my life over a 600 dollar necklace that I could easily replace or go without. My friends looked over at me in shock, likely thinking the same thing.
“The fuck did you just say” he snarled back as he pulled a revolver out of his waist band.
My friends had already gotten everything out of their pockets, ready to give it all up.
“Look man, just let them have it” My friend Malcolm pleaded.
I ignored him and glared at the assailant. I was feeling the same energy from the BB gun incident.
The guy aimed the gun directly at my head.
“I’m gonna say this again, drop your fucking shit and no one has to die”
“No” I said again, my eyes still trained on the shooter.
He aimed the gun at my head and clicked the trigger. At the same time as the shot, instinct took over and I pointed my palm right in front of the barrel of the gun. An image flashed into my head of the gun broken into pieces.
I heard the loud ‘BOOM’ as the gun fired and not much after that. Flooded with adrenaline, I bolted back in the direction of our neighborhood. My friends tailed close behind.
I quickly glanced back to see the shooter on the ground clutching his hand as his partner kneeled to inspect it. They soon ran in the opposite direction.
We dashed into the back door of Malcolm’s house and doubled over, gasping for air.
“Blake, what the hell? You could’ve died” My friend Andre said in an exasperated whisper as to not wake anyone up.
“We could have died” Malcolm nodded in agreement
I listened to my friends chastise me for a few minutes, not saying a word. I knew my little moment of rebellion could have gotten us all killed and felt terrible for it.
“What the fuck happend? Did his gun jam?” Malcolm asked, between long breaths.
“Yeah, I think so. I saw the guy clutching his hand.”
“Jesus Christ, what are the odds? We are lucky to be here after you pulled that dumb shit.”
I had no response again. This time it was because I was lost in thought. What were the odds of a gun jamming? Did that have anything to do with my incident as a kid?
“Guys, I need to get home” I said quickly, my mind racing with different ways to test my hypothesis. I got up and left Malcolm’s house before anyone could stop me.
I spent the rest of the night with a quarter in my hand. I flipped it at least a hundred times before I passed out from exhaustion.
Every single one landed on heads.
I woke up that morning with a start, jumped off my bed and checked the clock to see how long I was out.
It was 7:00 PM. I slept for almost 15 hours.
‘Was that all just a dream?’ I thought to myself. I looked down to see the quarter I had been flipping all night.
My stomach groaned loudly as I realized I hadn’t eaten at all since before my movie.
I went downstairs and quickly opened every door in the pantry. Twenty minutes of work later I managed to makeshift a meal of rice, ramen noodles, Cereal, ginger ale, and some leftover chicken casserole.
‘Let’s try something else’
I threw on my shoes and grabbed my basketball.
I tried to calm the nervous knots in my stomach as I contemplated the events of the previous night.
I’ve always been an athletic person but my free throws were not my strong suit.
I took a deep breath as I planted my feet at the three point line.
I closed my eyes, tried to focus my energy to my hands, …and took the free throw.
I heard the ‘swish’ as the ball perfectly landed in the net and bounced away into the nearby grass.
I ran and grabbed the ball. I tried to apply the same focus to my hands again and blindly hurled the ball to the opposite net, attempting to simulate a half court shot.
It hit the backboard, bounced again on an adjacent piece of fence and then miraculously stumbled into the net.
I felt dizzy with excitement. Or maybe it was exhaustion.
Once again, I felt extremely tired and barely managed to walk back to my bed to take another nap.
“Blake, wake your lazy ass up”
I quickly jumped and fell out of bed.
“Hey mom good morning” I said, eyes half closed.
“It’s 10:30 at night,” She said, hands on her hips and a suspicious frown on her face.
“Have you been sleeping all day while I was at work?”
“I… um… ” I stammered
“And you didn’t unload the dishes or dust the house?”
“I can explain, mom.” I pleaded.
She walked over and took a long look at my eyes.
“Boy, have you been smoking weed? You ate the whole damn pantry down there.”
“No mom, I swear I was just hungry.”
After threatening to beat my ass if she ever caught me smoking, she finally softened up on me.
“Alright Blake, I’ll let you go. Maybe you should eat more, you’re looking skinny”
I got up to check my weight to realize just like after the incident from my childhood, I had lost several pounds.
I spent several days after that contemplating my new powers and all the baggage they came with. Who should I tell? What should I use them to accomplish? How do I avoid killing myself with them?
Causing a gun to jam and a few other magic tricks seemed to cost me about twenty pounds of weight. What if the guy had a bigger gun? Would that have cost 25 pounds?
My first order of business, gain weight.
Malcolm was the first one to notice I was eating 3 times the amount of food I normally would at lunch.
“Dude, are you good? You haven’t said a word to us since we almost got killed and now you’re eating like a damn elephant. You have some trauma you wanna talk about?”
I took a large bite of chicken salad as I debated how much I should tell them. I decided to keep my secret to myself. As if they would believe me anyways.
“I want to try out for varsity this year” I half lied. With my new powers I could easily make either the football or basketball teams. Even without them, I was still one of the tallest people in my grade and just needed to fill out a bit more to be a serious threat on the field.
Andre chimed in, “Bro already looks like Cam Newton. What position you going for?”
I thought for a second, “How’d you know? I was thinking quarterback too.”
I spent the next few years learning what I could and should use my powers for. At my age, I couldn’t gamble or buy lottery tickets. I decided that my best bet to get my mom and I out of our shitty neighborhood would be through university.
It felt unfair as I stared at the rows of green circles in my SAT exam. I just channeled my energy into my hand and guessed on every single question. Instead of studying, I spent the prior months eating and gaining as much weight as I could.
Guilt burned in my chest as I showed my mom my score: 1510. I felt horrible as she teared up and hugged me.
I used my power on the football field as well, although not as much. I still became a skilled quarterback: I learned how to read different defenses and had very accurate throws. College scouts saw me as a great player with that special X factor.
Whenever a key moment came in my games, I would channel that same energy in my right hand. Every time I did that, I would sling that ball with mathematical accuracy. And it always ended with a touchdown.
By the time college decisions came around, I had my pick of schools with a full-ride scholarship to every one. Many even offered my additional stipends, essentially paying for me to go to school.
Throughout all of this, I kept my powers a secret. All of that changed when I met my new roommate, Rafael.
We got along really well, considering he was a random selection. We both came from similar backgrounds so it was really easy to relate to him compared to the many other students who seemed to have everything handed to them on a silver platter.
Rafa was a wrestler so we also had athletics in common. I saw several signs that he was special as well. Subtle hints. Good grades on tests he didn’t study for. Rapidly fluctuating weight, more than what would be expected for a wrestler. Crazy accuracy in beer pong. It all seemed too much to be a coincidence.
After a walk home when every crosswalk turned green right as we approached it, I finally decided to confront him.
“Hey Rafa, can I talk to you about something?” I asked cautiously, when we got back to my dorm room.
“Sure man, what’s up” he said as he grabbed a protein bar from the pantry.
I was quiet, staring at him for several seconds as I decided how to word my thoughts.
“Have you ever…felt like…. warm in your hands… or I mean…” I trailed off, not knowing how to complete my sentence.
He responded by grabbing a sock off the ground and throwing it behind his head. I saw it land gracefully into his hamper, barely exposed behind a closet door.
“You can do it too?” I asked, amazed. A million questions began forming in my head.
“Yeah” he said slowly as he looked at the ground. “What about you Blake?”
I nodded.
We spent the rest of the evening talking about our powers. Speculating on where they came from, admitting how many of our achievements came from using them.
“So it seems to cost energy, right?” I inquired. The first time I used it on a bully at school, I lost almost 15 pounds.”
“That’s right. I think the better you get at handling it, the less energy it takes from you. I would practice all sorts of stuff with it. I think more unlikely events cost more energy. So you know how the odds of flipping a coin heads is 50% right?”
“Yeah, I tried that once. I made it land heads like a hundred times in a row” I recalled
“Exactly, I tried the same thing and I only lost a couple pounds. It doesn’t take that much energy. But you know those dice that have like 20 sides?”
“Yeah?”
“I tried to roll a 6, a bunch of times in a row- way more difficult. I lost a ton more weight doing that.”
“What do you think are the odds that that guy who tried to rob me had a misfire?” I asked, contemplating just how dangerous that situation truly was.
“Dude, bullets almost never misfire like that. Let’s pretend it was an old gun, the bullets weren’t stored well… who knows, maybe it fell in some dirt or something. The odds of a misfire would still be like 1 out of a couple thousand.”
“Well shit, I’m lucky I didn’t lose all of my weight just trying to stop it.”
He nodded, “Since you didn’t lose too much weight, I’m assuming the gun or bullet was likely to jam anyways. Maybe you just had to nudge fate a little bit to save your ass”
My eyes looked upwards for a second as I thought.
“Fate.” I repeated, exploring the sound of the word in my head. “I think that is a great word to describe our power. We can control fate.”
Rafael agreed, “Funny, I’ve been calling it ‘fate’ for a while now.”
We spent the rest of the night eating, talking, and eventually, playing games using fate.
We would flip a coin and I would try to land it on ‘heads’ while Rafael aimed for ‘tails’.
He was definitely more skilled with the powers than I was.
“Alright man I give up, let’s get some rest. I know we both have practice early.” I seceded after losing several flips in a row.
Rafa and I became even closer in the following months after learning about our shared abilities.
Every day after homework, classes, and our respective sports practices, we would spend at least an hour practicing fate. This would include our earlier coin game, trying to get lights to turn green on the way home, or other games our imaginations could conjure up.
I look back at those times fondly, things were much simpler then.
I soon began to notice unfamiliar faces lurking behind me, far enough that most people wouldn’t have noticed. I did.
One night after walking back to my dorm from an evening practice, I began to suspect I was being followed. I was just a block away from my dorm room when I saw the figure in my periphery. I quickly turned around just as it disappeared around a corner. I hurried in and quickly locked the door behind me- a little on edge from the encounter.
A few weeks later, I noticed someone strange during game day. I was at the 5 yard line at the end of a long play. Though usually laser focused, I was distracted by someone in the stands this time. Nothing seemed too off about him: He wore sunglasses and the usual jersey and school-themed accessories. The only problem, he was not cheering nearly enough. Maybe an occasional clap that was a little too delayed. His demeanor was nothing like that of a college sports fan. It had me on edge for most of the game. Despite my apprehension, we were still able to win. I handed the ball to my running back, who then cut to the right for a game-winning touchdown.
The entire stadium erupted in cheers. Everyone except that one guy. I looked again to see he was gone. I found it hard to tell if someone really was stalking me or if it was all in my head.
It was shortly after that when my question was answered.
Once again it was after football practice. A particularly rainy day. The type of rain that renders an umbrella useless.
I felt the spongy sound my shoes made as I trudged through the rain.
A few minutes into my walk was when I saw three men tailing me. They were much closer than I expected, likely using the lack of visibility to their advantage. They closed the distance quickly after I saw them, forcing me to break into a run. I made the game-time decision to drop all of my gear in an attempt to run as fast as possible.
I was stopped short as I saw two more figures in front of me. They all wore dark clothing and had black balaclavas concealing their faces. This isn’t a movie, there is no way I would have been able to fight off five people at once.
On a nearby street, I noticed a small grey sprinter van’s headlights turn on and begin creeping over to me.
Adrenaline bursting through my veins, I decided to try something I had never done before. I channeled fate into my fist and punched the person to my left- connecting with his ribcage.
It worked, he immediately slipped and fell on his ass, likely incapacitated for at least a few seconds.
‘Now’s my chance to run’ I thought as I tried to step over him. It didn’t work. The other four people grabbed me and forced me into the van. I felt hands grab my arms and cuff them behind my back. A bag was forcefully shoved over my head.
‘Fuck’ I thought to myself. My mind began to race- Maybe someone knows about my power? What could they want to do with me?
I heard two sliding doors close and felt the car begin to stir to life. Besides that, everything was drowned out by the pattering rain on the van’s metal roof.
I had to think quickly if I had a chance of surviving. Fate was my best chance of escaping. I thought back to how I had used it in the past. I would channel energy into my hand and then direct it somewhere in the world in order to change the outcome of some event. James’ ankle, the gun misfiring, the trajectory of a basketball. That was all done the same way.
I felt the car speed up, likely approaching a highway.
The only problem, my hands were stuck behind me. Actually not the only problem. In the past, I had been able to see everything I was affecting with fate. I wondered if it would work without my eyes.
A plan flashed in my head as I realized I could just barely see through the bag over my head and out the back window of the van.
I made out the faintest image of a rusty old Toyota keeping pace with our car.
This time, I channeled my fate into the base of my right foot.
I flicked my foot, picturing the image of snapped brake cables as intensely as I could.
It worked, if only for a second.
As my kidnappers slowed to a stop for what I assumed was a traffic light, the Toyota did not. It came veering towards us.
Just before a collision however, the car swerved off onto the shoulder. Narrowly avoiding us.
“God dammit” I yelled, the sound muffled by the cover on my face.
I continued to yell and squirm until I felt my face cover come up and tape stretch over my mouth.
“Keep moving and we’ll have to put you to sleep” I heard from a gruff voice behind me.
Not wanting to know what that meant, I reluctantly complied- resigning myself to quietly contemplating my next plan to escape.
Around an hour later, the car rolled to a stop. My kidnappers quickly ushered me from the car to a building, and then into a room. By this time, it was too dark for me to see much of anything through the bag over my face.
I was pushed into the dark room and forced down against the back wall. The bag was then taken off my head and I saw two people quickly make their way out of the room. The face-coverings they wore made it difficult to gather whether they were the same people from the van.
I leaped up with my arms still cuffed behind my back. Aiming to push past the guys and through the door.
Just before I could make it, I saw the shorter of the two kidnappers turn around and point his hand at my leg. I felt the most subtle push at my ankle but it was enough to shake up my already compromised balance.
I crashed into the ground, face-first. The same guy chuckled and wordlessly threw a small metal key at me before he quickly exited the room.
Several metallic clinks sounded as the door was locked, leaving me alone in the darkness.
It looks like Rafael and I weren’t the only ones who could use fate.