Fun at the Pool.

Arthur sat in Molly's room, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Molly's parents were coming home tonight, but Molly wasn't here. She was missing, possibly dead, possibly kidnapped, Arthur didn't know, but his imagination conjured horrible images. Her parents would come home and they'd demand an explanation, and Arthur didn't have one, and they'd call the police and he'd get sent to jail and he'd never see her again. Arthur froze up, and his mind seized on that one thought. He might never see her again. Arthur began tearing up. Molly was gone, and he'd never see her again. The tears welled up in Arthur's eyes and began rolling down his cheeks, and he slumped to the floor. His mind reeled and he felt faint, before violently shaking his head. No, he thought. This isn't helping at all. I've got to stop this if I want to find Molly.

"I've got to... be a man," thought Arthur. "That's the only way I'll find her, I've got to be a man and... look for her," said Arthur, glumly realizing that he couldn't possibly search the entire town before Molly's parents returned home. Arthur felt hot. He had to be a man, but that wouldn't help him find Molly. Arthur felt hotter. And being a man wouldn't keep him out of jail if Molly's parents had him arrested for losing their daughter. Arthur felt even hotter, as if he was burning up. He opened his eyes and realized that he actually was being burnt up! Sparks were shooting out of his hand and scalding his face. Arthur quickly pulled away, and the sparks quit jumping from his hand. After checking over his face, Arthur looked at the ground and his eyes lit up as he noticed a slightly charred walkie-talkie. He grabbed it and held it to his ear, listening as the device produced a faint static sound, indicating that the device was on and receiving waves. When he slumped to the floor, Arthur must have accidently held down the gadget's faulty transmission button, causing the sparks that burned him. Arthur danced about the room. This is it! he thought. I can find Molly with this! He lightly pressed the transmission button and called into the walkie-talkie, "Molly, it's Arthur! Can you hear me?!" He waited a few moments, but there was no response. Arthur was puzzled for a moment before remembering Molly's warning about the walkie-talkie's range. Arthur realized that if he couldn't hear her, then he had to get closer! Without hesitating, Arthur ran up the stairs and out of Molly's house.

Arthur briskly ran up and down the streets of town, and every time he reached the end of a block, he'd call out on the walkie-talkie. He had yet to receive a response. He continued through the town, running past the library, then the movie theatre, then west past the animal shelter and north past the hospital. He searched all across town for an hour, before finally ending up in the far north of Elwood. Arthur called out once more on the walkie-talkie. No response. He began running.

"...garage." Arthur stopped in his tracks, and quickly held the walkie-talkie to his ear. "...garage," the message repeated. Arthur instantly recognized it as Molly's voice. He roughly depressed the transmission button.

"Molly, where are you?!" he shouted into the walkie-talkie.

"Keep...down....I'm...all my..." said Molly, her voice interrupted by static. "You have to.... save... at the garage!" Arthur looked around, and saw a wide building about a hundred yards up the street. A closed steel garage door occupied the left side of the building's face, and on the right side was a small staircase with a normal door at the end. Above the normal door was a large sign that read, "Edmund's Emissions." Arthur ran towards the garage. When he reached it, he noticed a "closed" sign hanging on the normal door. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door. No response. He held the walkie-talkie to his mouth.

"Molly, I'm at Edmund's, where are y-" said Arthur as he felt something heavy swing into the back of his skull. Arthur's eyes rolled back into his head as his slipped into unconciousness.

.......................

"You dumbass!" Arthur awoke to shouting going on somewhere nearby. His skull felt like it had been split in half. He groaned in pain, and attempted to massage his head before realizing that his hands were tied up behind him. He opened his eyes and looked around. He was sitting in a chair in the corner of a mechanic's garage, his hands tied together behind the chair's back, and his feet bound together in front of the chair. To his right was a steel workbench, and when he craned his neck, he could see a metal shelf behind him, stocked up with various cans and bottles of motor oil and engine grease. A few yards away on his left sat a banana-yellow Pontiac Aztek, apparently being modified to accept the small Honda engine laying on wooden beams next to it. Arthur's inspection of his surroundings was cut short when he heard a loud smack. "You fucking worthless piece of shit! We waited two hours for you and you break the damn thing on the kid's head?!" the voice shouted from what inside what looked like an office.

"I'm sorry boss, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" the voice pleaded before Arthur heard deep thwack.

"I don't give a shit! Get out of here! You're through, absolutely through! GO!" shouted the voice. Arthur saw a man wearing a blue jumpsuit run out of the office, across the garage, and through a doorway on the right-hand wall. A moment later Arthur heard a door open and slam shut. Arthur felt sick. The man in the blue jumpsuit was bleeding, and his face was bruised. Arthur looked back toward the office. "That shithead," Arthur heard the voice say. "I should've just shot him. He never did anything right."

"Yeah, well, what are you gonna do?" came another voice from inside the office. Arthur heard footsteps and saw two men walk out of the office. The first was dressed in the same blue jumpsuit as the man who had run out earlier, except that this man's face was not bruised. Instead, it was plastered with a smug grin. The second man to come out of the office was extraordinarily filthy. This man appeared to be completely covered in oil and grease, his uniform a veritable constellation of black stains, which also covered his boots, his face, and his matted hair. The man noticed Arthur, and walked over toward him.

"So you're awake?" said the man, now standing in front of Arthur.

"Where's Molly?!" demanded Arthur. The man stared at him for a moment, saying nothing. Arthur watched him as the man reached into his pocket and drew out a cigarette and a lighter. He placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it, taking a slow drag off of it. Arthur looked at the man's uniform and saw a nametag, barely legible through the motor oil, reading "Edmund." Edmund finished inhaling from his cigarette and blew the smoke into Arthur's face.

"I've got that little slut locked up. Don't worry about her," said Edmund.

"Tell me where she is right now!" shouted Arthur. Edmund ignored him.

"Hmm, she was right about you. That is one dull face you've got," said the man, grabbing Arthur by the chin and looking his face over. Arthur glared at Edmund, his expression full of anger. A man wouldn't stand for this, thought Arthur as quickly snapped his head down and bit Edmund's hand as hard as he could.

"OW, son of a bitch!" screamed Edmund as he balled up his other hand into a fist and smacked Arthur in the throat, causing Arthur to jerk his mouth open as he wheezed in pain. Edmund clutched his hand, blood dripping from it. He glowered at Arthur and grabbed him by the ear, pulling his head close. Arthur shut his eyes in pain, but a moment later felt hot.

"GYAHH" wailed Arthur as Edmund shoved the lit end of his cigarette into Arthur's left eye, blinding him. Tears streamed down Arthur's face and he coughed, his mouth tasting like motor oil as the fiery pain burnt inside him. Edmund pulled the cigarette out of Arthur's eye and took another drag on it, blowing the smoke into Arthur's face again. Arthur coughed more as the hot smoke invaded his mouth and nostrils.

"Let that be a lesson to you," growled Edmund. "You're ours now, and you always will be. Hell, you've just been branded," said Edmund, chuckling. Arthur coughed.again, and opened his eyelids to look at Edmund. There was a void on the left side of his field of vision, and he couldn't feel his left eyeball.

"F-fuck you!" Arthur growled. Edmund raised his eyebrows and scowled at Arthur.

"So that's the way it's gonna be, eh? You," said Edmund, pointing at the other man wearing a blue jumpsuit, who had apparently been watching Edmund and Arthur with a pompous grin from across the room. "Go get the digital camera." The smug man went through the same doorway the bruised man had gone through earlier. He returned a moment later with a large digital camera. "Give it here," said Edmund, taking the camera from the other man. Edmund fished around in his pocket and pulled out a small folding knife. He handed it to the other man. "Open it up and go stand next to the boy." The smug man followed his instructions, unfolding the knife as he walked over to Arthur. When in place, he turned back to his boss and nodded. Edmund nodded back, and walked in front of a closed door on the north side of the building. He knocked on it twice. "Mol, have you woken up again?" he asked loudly. There was no response. "I've got your boyfriend here. If you put up a struggle like you did earlier, we're going to kill him." Edmund signaled to the man standing next to Arthur, and the man pushed the blade against Arthur's throat. Edmund watched, before turning and slowly twisting the doorknob, and then yanking the door open while jumping back. Nothing happened. He waited a moment, before peering into the closet. With his good eye, Arthur could barely make out Molly's figure lying on the closet floor. Edmund walked into the closet and grabbed Molly by the legs, and dragged her out of the closet and onto the garage floor.

"Molly! What did you do to her?!" shouted Arthur at Edmund. The man with the knife pressed the blade against Arthur's neck as a warning.

"Oh, she's fine," stated Edmund matter-of-factly as he procured some rope from the supply closet. He began binding Molly's arms and legs together before he continued speaking. "The dumbass found a walkie-talkie on you after he knocked you out. We figured Mol must've had one too, so that she could lead you here. So, after we tied you up, we took it from her."

"Oh yeah, thanks for the walkie-talkies," said the pompous man holding the knife, as he pulled one out of his pocket and hooked it around his belt. "It's a fancy one, I think it looks real good on me."

"Shut up," said Edmund. "Anyway, she tried to put up a fight, so we had to knock her out again." Edmund stared into Arthur's eye and grinned. "I wasn't pulling any punches this time either, I think I might've cracked a rib or two," he said while chuckling at Arthur's face, now seething with rage. Edmund finished tying up Molly's extremities and looked her over. After a moment, he craned his head to the right. "...Shit. How'm I going to get her clothes off if her arms and legs are tied up?" he mused. He turned and looked at the man next to Arthur. "Hmm, the knife! We'll cut them off of her!" he said excitedly. The man next to Arthur grinned and pulled the knife away from Arthur's neck, and began walking toward Edmund.

Be a man! The thought echoed in Arthur's mind as he realized that he might have a chance to escape. He looked around him for anything he could use. He craned his neck and saw the metal shelf behind him. A flash of inspiration ran through Arthur, and he began rocking his chair back and forth, until it collided with the shelf, knocking down several bottles and cans of engine grease and motor oil, their contents spilling out over Arthur's back and onto the garage floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" said the man with the knife, rushing toward Arthur. Acting quickly Arthur was able to wriggle his hands out of the rope that fastened them together. He hopped out of the chair and twisted his body, grabbing the back of the chair and swinging it in an arc to his front, where it slipped out of his oily hands and flew through the air for a split-second before colliding with the pompous man's face as he rushed to attack Arthur. The man was thrown back as splinters and chair fragments spread out onto the floor. Arthur saw the knife fall to the ground at his feet, and he pounced on it, grabbing it and feverishly using it to cut through the bonds on his legs. When his legs were free he stood straight with the knife in his hand and dashed toward Edmund.

BANG

A flash of light and a thunderous roar echoed through the garage as Arthur felt something hot pierce his left shoulder. He felt it pass through his body, thinking for a moment that he was being burned with another cigarette, before he realized that he had just been shot. He looked at Edmund and saw him facing Arthur, a pistol clutched in his right hand. Arthur dropped the knife and fell to his hands and knees from the shock of it. To his surprise, he didn't feel any pain coming from his shoulder. He did feel something like a wet rock though, sitting on the floor and pressing into his palm. And oddly enough, it felt familiar.

"Stupid kid. You couldn't be a good little baby, could you?" growled Edmund, walking toward Arthur. "I would've taken care of you, honest. Not any more though. If baby wants to throw a tantrum, then baby's going to die crying." Arthur vision was blurry, but he finally realized what his hand was resting on. His walkie-talkie. It was lying in a puddle of grease and oil. Arthur looked up and saw the oil and grease had formed a wet trail, leading up to.... Edmund. Arthur sqeezed the transmission button on the walkie-talkie. "Say goodnight, kid," said Edmund, pulling back the hammer on his pistol.

"I'm not a kid," said Arthur, sparks jumping out of the walkie-talking, igniting his oily right hand and the trail of flammable fluids. Fire jumped and danced along the trail. Edmond took his eyes off of Arthur and looked at the fire, watching as it leapt across the floor and slowly climbed up his boots and onto his legs.

"AHH, JESUS!" he screamed. He threw his pistol to the ground as he started slapping at his pants, attempting to put out the fire. Arthur stood up and looked at his right hand, now engulfed in flames. He couldn't feel any pain. He looked from his hand to Edmund.

"I'm not a kid!" he shouted as he balled his fist up. Edmund raised his head in confusion for a moment and Arthur rushed forward and shouted

"I AM A MAN!"

as he slammed his fiery fist into Edmund's face, instantly igniting it. Edmund screamed in pain as he was knocked onto the floor, and he began writhing about and screaming obscenities as he attempted to put himself out. Arthur watched, panting, before quizzically looking at his hand and seeing that it was no longer engulfed in flames, nor was it burnt in any way. He shook his head and refocused, running over to Molly. He leaned down and scooped her up around the waist, and lifted her over his right shoulder, surprised at how light she was. He ran through the doorway on the right and into a lobby. At the southern end of the lobby was a door. He opened it up and ran out into the sunlight of Elwood City.

.........................

Epilogue



Arthur had made it all the way to the school playground before the adrenaline wore off. He passed out in sight of other kids, playing a game. They called the police and the police called for ambulances. Neither was concious when they were brought to the hospital, but Molly woke up later that day. After finding out about how they were discovered, and that Arthur was in stable condition in the same hospital, she managed to give the police a brief explanation on how they were both kidnapped by Edmund. When police inspected "Edmund's Emissions" they were surprised to find that the inside of the building had been completely scorched. The walls, two solid feet of concrete, had acted as a furnace, containing and focusing the heat inside and incinerating nearly everything in the building. The bodies of Edmund and his employee were not recovered, and the police determined that they had either escaped or had been reduced to dust.

Arthur awoke two days after being brought to the hospital. Luckily for him, when he was shot the bullet had passed completely through his shoulder, and the doctors were able to repair the damaged tissue. His eye, however, was beyond healing. When given the choice, he rejected the offer of a glass eye, instead preferring a simple eyepatch. At his request, he and Molly were able to share a room. The first time they saw eachother after the incident, Molly couldn't stop herself from crying when she saw Arthur, with his shoulder bandaged and a patch over his eye. They embraced and kissed, and found comfort in eachother after surviving their ordeal. They continued being lovey-dovey to eachother through the rest of their hospital stay, prompting their respective families to notice. Arthur demonstrated a newfound maturity from then on, and when they left the hospital, their parents encouraged his and Molly's relationship. Within a year, Arthur had moved out of his room in his house and into Molly's room at her house, where they lived together for a few years before they were able to rent their own apartment, which became their home as they commuted to college.

Their love has never been stronger.



End



Author's Comments



Well, I hope you enjoyed my story. It was a pain in the ass to write, but I think it came out decently.


If you're wondering why Arthur's hand wasn't burnt after catching on fire, read on for some boring science bullshit. Now then, the motor oil that formed a trail from Arthur's hand to Edmund's feet was an unpurified crude mix, with a very low flash point. The sparks from the walkie talkie exceeded approximately 10 – 30 kV/cm, causing a rapid increase in the free electrons and ions in the air, temporarily causing the air to become an electrical conductor. The charged air was able to ignite and burn the hydrocarbons in the oil, allowing it to spread across the cement floor of the garage to Edmund's feet, and since he was an oily greasy bastard, he easily became engulfed with flames. Now, Edmund was not burned by the oil fire itself, but from his jumpsuit burning. His cotton jumpsuit had a fire point of 410 °F, well within the temperature of the flaming crude oil, and when it caught fire it was as if Edmund was wrapped in wet fire. As to why Arthur wasn't burned, this is because only the oil on his hand ignited, as opposed to his actual hand or his clothes. His hand, composed mainly of water, has a very high specific heat capacity, 4.18 kJ/K kg. In addition, due to his rush of adrenaline his heart rate was much higher, allowing his blood to pumped through his hand at a much faster rate, keeping his hand's temperature normal with his body's temperature. To those familiar with the physics of firewalking, this should all sound familiar, as the basic premise is the same. As to why the fire left Arthur's hand after he punched Edmund, this was because the velocity at which Arthur's fist collided with Edmund's face caused the burning fluid to gain momentum and when Arthur transferred the energy from his fist to Edmund's face, the rapid stop caused the burning fluid to rush forward and be cast onto Edmund, where it ignited his face. I tried to make the action seem fantastic, but backed by completely rational explanations. I'd like to remind you that this all totally makes sense.



I'll take this time to thank the three artists who have made excellent illustrations to go along with my horrible story; Sir, Animoose, and Crushling. If I knew any of you in real life, I'd buy you a cigar. To everyone else, as always, thanks for reading and feedback is appreciated.