Dreamers Awake: Chapter 3.

Chapter 3

Rock

The world flew by in a blur of colors and sounds. Every second was 100 miles traveled, stopping only to grin at his friends and then speed off again. He knew exactly where he was going, exactly where every step would take him. He never got lost, never tripped, never crashed; nothing could ever stop him when he ran. Somehow through the blur the world had become he could navigate his way and never get hurt. It was a second sense; somehow knowing what would be around every corner, what happened second before it actually did.

            He slowed his pace, sliding to a stop, barely feeling the burn in his legs. With a wide grin he winked at his friends who stood clustered around the car sipping coffee, smoking, talking and best of all, laughing. They were always amazed by his ability, by his utter speed. They were impressed, awed but he could tell some of them were jealous. They wanted to move as fast as he could. But he knew they couldn’t. It was something only he could do, it set him apart from the crowd, made him special and unique and he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it.

            Dimly he heard Jameson say something about the car and he knew they wanted to race him. It always ended like this, he raced around the world a couple of times and then they challenged him to a race around the busy streets of New York City. It was dangerous but his friends were good at avoiding obstacles on the road, only he was better. He could dart in and out between cars in seconds, a mere blur to the human eye.

            With a grin he simply nodded, knowing it was useless to talk. His friends gathered into the cruiser, the engine revved and dimly he watched as the tires squealed, burning rubber, smoking as they peeled out onto the street. He was rushing by then, bare seconds having passed and already he was circling around Times Square for the third time, his friends not even having gotten through the second red light.

            Stopping for a moment to simply catch his breath, though he was barely even sweating Richard “Rock” Blake glanced up at the cars and buildings stretching to eternity in the middle of Times Square. He watched as his breath steamed off into the cold October air, watching as the world traveled by, at a snails pace to him. Cabs honked lazily at each other, bikers wove in and out of traffic, people jay walked but he didn’t care. The world moved at its normal pace and Rock felt like he saw everything crystal clear, each movement slow, barely moving.

            The scream of tires turned his head and he watched in slow motion as his friends in the cruiser began to get closer. That same grin that had never faded from his lips grew as he readied himself but then caught something out of the corner of his eye. A boy, a teenager, young, scared but desperate was running down the street, sprinting fast in his own mind but barely moving to Rock. He barreled into a woman, grabbing tight to her purse and wrenching the small leather bag off the woman’s shoulder as he roughly knocked her to the ground.

            Her scream tore through the air to echo in Rock’s mind and he clenched his teeth, already moving. The boy was on the ground with a split lip and a cry before a second had even passed. The purse skittered across the ground and Rock leaned down to pick it up, at the same time pulling the boy to his feet with a tight grip to the back of his jacket. The purse hung from his fingertips, held out to the woman with a bright smile.  

            She gave Richard a look of pure relief  and took her purse with both hands, holding it close to her, saying brightly, “Thank you so much Officer.” And if Rock had been wearing a hat, he would’ve tipped it to her, his smile all teeth as he nodded and said easily, “Just doing my job Mam.” He felt as if he should be walking into the sunset like a true hero but they were still in gray and gloomy NYC. He didn’t let that bother him though as he nodded once more to the woman, turned around and dragged the boy forward. They stepped towards the cruiser that was just pulling up to the curb, his friends finally having caught up.

            He awoke with a smile on his lips and a deep breath drawn in through his nose, laughing at himself. Even his dreams were corny, he watched too many Westerns. He should start wearing a cowboy hat. With the smile still on his lips he turned to the side and yawned, reaching strong arms out to wrap around his wife’s waist and pull her close.

            The sheets were soft and light against his skin, her body warm against his and he just lay there for a moment, cheek against her shoulder, eyes shut, just breathing. Then opening his eyes to mere slits he glanced at the clock glowing across the room and saw that he had woken up at the same time he always did, 5:30 AM, on the dot. Giving his wife a quick kiss to her bare arm he quickly climbed out of bed and headed for the shower.

            Once he was dressed, bundled in sweats and a hat, preparing himself for the chill October air that he knew waited outside, he ran quietly down the stairs and to the kitchen. Chester, his five year old Boxer gave a tired yawn but was already on his feet and dancing excitedly even as Rock grabbed his leash and hooked it onto his harness. The house still quiet with his sleeping family, he opened the door and headed out for his morning run with Chester eagerly pulling him along.