All About Timing

The sun was shining and the streets were busy. Pedestrians weaved in and out of the traffic, calling to friends and family as they went. The occasional car horn went off, but in the heat there was no malice to it. No one was in a hurry, not when there was so much sun to enjoy on this glorious summer Saturday.

Sat at a table outside the café Levy swirled his cup of coffee round as he watched. Everyone else was drinking iced beverages, yet Levy still had a hot one. Even in this heat he felt a chill in his bones, the chill of his old age. It was one of the only signs of his age; his face was still young and fresh, especially at the moment, when he’d only changed it a few months ago, and his body didn’t have any middle age sag. ‘Middle aged’ would certainly be an understatement for him, but categories like that didn’t translate very well to his kind. Not a lot translated very well to them.

At first Levy hadn’t been thinking about anything as he sat there. He was out of the house for a few hours before an evening out with his current crop of friends, and had just been enjoying soaking up the humanity around him. The day was so nice though that he couldn’t help but drift off into a daydream.

What would he do? Given a moment of freedom how would he best create chaos from this scene?

Well, he thought with a smile, ice cream fallen from the cones is an obvious one. That opens up the chance of someone else slipping in the ice cream, or dropping something in it. Nice and basic, could do it in my sleep. Then I guess…

This was were it got harder, not that Levy would ever admit that. How long had it been since he’d had any decent practise at it? Sat here day-dreaming was one thing, but there was so much more to it than that. Reactions, domino effects, fallout… all things that he calculated automatically back in the day, but now caught him off guard.

Oh, how he missed the old days.

There! That car. If its hub-cap came off, it would roll across the road, causing that person to break – and maybe get rear-ended – and then that person over there would break as well, all while the original driver carried on. Then there’d be the madness as someone got out to clear the cap from the road, and soon enough there’d be tail-backs all round the block.

See, I’ve still got it.

Levy took another sip of coffee as he grinned like a shark. One simple little thing and so many people would get disrupted. And it wasn’t really a trick, not really, so it shouldn’t attract any attention…

No. Not worth the risk.

By the time Levy put his cup down again the smile had gone.

The afternoon gently rolled on and Levy got through another three cups. He didn’t leave the table though, lost in his maudlin thoughts. What little power he had left was enough to keep him comfortable. It was a nice spot, and he wasn’t going to risk popping away from a moment and loosing it to someone else.

Levy was just thinking about leaving when a stag party stumbled along the road. Their laughter was infectious, reminding him of parties long ago, and without thinking he sagged back in his seat to watch. How long had it been since he’d relaxed like that? Too long, that was for sure.

The group of drunk, ridiculously young men reached the traffic lights and stopped. Half of them wanted to go one way, the other half another. Whoever the party was for was too drunk to cast a vote, so the whole lot had ground to a halt and started harassing other pedestrians. One of them had started climbing up the traffic light pole.

An opportunity danced in front of Levy’s eyes. The climber’s phone was in his back pocket, and Levy’s sixth sense told him the guy would reach for his phone if it started ringing, out of habit, and in doing so lose his grip on the pole. He’d fall off the few feet to the floor, landing on one of his friends in the process. Hilarity would ensue, and the tale of the phantom phone call that had made him fall would be the man’s party tale for the next few months. Maybe even a year, if Levy could find the right ring tone to go with it.

He couldn’t help himself. With a thought and a mental push, Levy shifted the world around the climber. The phone started up with a muffled rendition of ‘It’s Raining Men’ and he sniggered. Sure enough the climber let go of the pole with one hand, reaching for his back pocket. One of his feet slipped, then his hand went, and he was tumbling down.

Except his friend had moved. And the climber’s other foot had caught on the pole, so now he was falling head first and–

Even from where Levy sat up the street the sound was sickening. Wet yet solid, like an egg cracking on a stone floor. Then came the screaming.

“Damn it,” Levy muttered to himself as he downed the dregs of his coffee. There was a time when he didn’t make mistakes like that. It was always more fun when all the people survived. That was what made it a trick, and not an accident.

A screech of brakes made Levy look up again. Someone had run across the road to help the victim, but had gone out straight in front of a car. The car hadn’t stopped in time, leaving the person sprawled in the middle of the traffic. And now more cars were joining the pile-up, and more pedestrians were running and screaming.

This wasn’t just a miscalculation on his part.

“Thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Levy didn’t even jump at the voice right behind him. “Thought you wouldn’t care.”

“More fool you.” There was more screaming from up ahead and the wail of sirens started echoing down the streets. “You never learn, do you? All these years, all these attempts, and you still keep trying.”

“It’s my nature. I can’t help it.” Levy watched the scene unfold. It wasn’t that he blamed himself for the carnage, but he couldn’t bare to see that smug face behind him again.

“Then you will keep dooming people to die. Your sentence isn’t over yet.”

“Huh. I thought I’d gotten a life-sentence?”

“Exactly. Until you die, any time you use your power I will pull your tricks on further, twisting and turning them until they hurt people.”

Levy sighed and finally turned round. His face was blank, his hands on his hips, every inch of him trying to act casual and unaffected. It took all his self-control not to punch the guy in the face. Again. “I don’t know why you bother. No one remembers me, I have no power.”

“Hmph. Not yet. But you get any tricks off and people will remember, and then you’re power will grow. You still have crimes to pay for, and we’re not letting you get your powers back just so you can carry on with all your old nonsense.”

“Whatever.” A fresh scream erupted behind Levy and he rolled his eyes. “All right, Owen, I get the hint. I’m going, I’m going.” Careful not to touch the other man Levy ducked round and headed off in the opposite direction to the accidents. He knew he was being watched as he went, so he kept his head high and his back straight, fighting the urge to curl up and scream.

“I’ll see you around, Levy.”

Levy waved a hand over his shoulder, and was proud that he didn’t swear at Owen as he left.

---

Back at his penthouse suite Levy washed and changed, ready to head out again for drinks with his mates. He was just going through the motions though. All he wanted to do was staying in and drink enough alcohol to hospitalise a human. If he did go out he’d just sit at the bar and keep going until he cleared them out, and that sort of thing that drew attention he could do with avoiding.

Somehow he found himself at the bar nonetheless. Staying in and drinking hadn't helped any of the other times that Owen had interfered, and going out was better than being alone. No, that wasn’t it. Something deep in Levy’s gut told him to go out, as much as the thought exhausted him. It was a deep feeling, something that hadn’t stirred for centuries. But Levy trusted it, so out he went.

Sure enough though the night was tedious. The humans all got wasted by midnight, and Levy couldn’t attract the barkeeper’s attention quick enough to make good progress on the back wall of spirits. By the time the next bottle had arrived Levy had burnt off the previous one, leaving him stone cold sober again. Not for the first time he envied the human’s abilities to get drunk. And their dedication in regularly achieving this goal.

“Levy!”

He raised his glass in a salute to the man stumbling down the bar. “Hey Richie. How’s it going?”

“Well.” Richie reached him and clapped him on the shoulder, swaying the whole time. Given how far gone Richie was Levy didn’t bother to move as Richie hit him. Even with his misjudged drunken pat Richie didn’t have nearly enough strength to shift even Levy’s finger. “Was goin’ fine. Then look a’ you. An’ you is all meh.” Richie leant over and tugged at Levy’s cheeks, pulling them further down into his scowl. “An’ tha’s no’ righ’. S’happy. Is good time.”

“It is a good time. I’m sorry, it’s just been a long day.”

“’Ave drink. You drink?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a drink with you.” Levy patted Richie on the arm and couldn’t help but smirk as he turned away and started hunting for his wallet. It was quite a show, and at last Richie found it in the first pocket he’d checked. Levy thought ordering another bottle was a bit rude when someone else was paying – even if they were too far gone to realise how much they were being charged – and settled for a double.

With drinks on the way Richie turned to Levy and frowned. “Now, talk. Wha’ happened t’day? Why bad?” Richie backed up and sat down.

Except he missed the chair. With a thud he landed on the floor, and after a couple of seconds let out the longest moan that Levy had ever heard.

Levy burst into hysterics. Only when he had to stop to breathe did he check on his friend. “You all right, mate?”

“The chair was there! I swear. Bloody tricksters.”

Levy froze, eyes wide. He hadn’t done anything, he was sure of that. Wasn’t he? His eyes flashed to the empty bottle of whiskey on the bar, but he shook his head. No, the alcohol wasn’t touching him. He hadn’t done anything, period. There was no reason Owen had to turn up again.

But he couldn’t let that pass from Richie. He ducked off his bar stall and crouched down. “Why did you say that?”

“Sa’ wha’?” Richie reacted to the panic in Levy’s voice and started trying to fumble his way back up. Levy caught his arms and stared into his eyes.

“You said ‘bloody trickster’.” Levy licked his lips. After so long the words felt weird on his tongue. “Why? Why did you say that?”

“Eh? Stories, innit? Tricksters, playin’ tricks on people. It was ‘em that moved the chair. Sure of it.”

“That’s all?”

“Eh? Yeah. Why? Did some sod move my chair?” Richie was spoiling for a fight now, so Levy just grinned at him and patted his arms.

“No, mate. Bloody tricksters, eh?” Without straining Levy picked Richie up by the arms and pulled him straight up to his feet. No one else was paying them any attention, and the super-human feat went unobserved. “Here. Finish this drink then I’ll find you a cab.”

“Nah, it’s early.”

“It’s late enough, Richie. Come on, drink up.”

Late enough. But not late enough for me. Owen can’t stop the stories, no matter how hard he tries. Stories are harder to kill than we are. People remember me, and the stories will grow over time. All I need to do is wait, and the followers will come. Then the power will come. And one day, oh so many years from now, I’ll be able to get my revenge on Owen and the rest of his lot.

Levy picked up his drink and grinned like a shark at himself in the mirror behind the bar. After all, the best tricks are about timing.