Charlie's Fate

Charlie's Fate

   The four of them sat in a clearing on the mountain: Oliver, Amelia, James, and Charlie. James and Oliver were deep in a nonsensical debate about the gender of angels. Amelia, thoroughly bored, gazed off into the distance, while Charlie remained his usual quiet, contemplative self. Without warning, the serene sky turned ominous, dark clouds rolling in rapidly. A cold wind swept through the clearing, chilling them to the bone. The realization dawned on them all at once: they were in serious trouble. The car was at least an hour’s walk away.

As the first icy drops of rain began to fall, the four of them broke into a run. A bolt of lightning struck alarmingly close, its crack deafening. Amelia and James were terrified, running as fast as they could, while Oliver led the way, occasionally glancing back to ensure they were following. Charlie trailed behind, calm as ever, accepting whatever fate awaited them.

Another lightning strike hit even closer, its brightness searing. Fueled by fear, they pushed harder toward the car. Oliver arrived first, panting as he turned to wait. Amelia and James arrived shortly after, drenched and trembling. “Where’s Charlie?” Oliver asked, panic creeping into his voice. Amelia and James exchanged uneasy looks before Amelia admitted, “I don’t know. We thought he was right behind us.”

“You saw him after the second lightning strike, right?” Oliver pressed. James shook his head. “No, we just ran. That last strike was way too close. Do you think… do you think the lightning hit him?”

“We have to check,” Oliver said firmly. Despite their fear, they turned back into the storm. The rain had softened, but the air was still electric. They found Charlie lying on the ground, one side of his jeans singed. But to their amazement, Charlie was alive — and smiling.

“Oh my God, Charlie!” Oliver exclaimed, rushing over. “Are you okay?”

Charlie chuckled, his voice tinged with amusement. “I’m fine. Looks like God decided to point his fiery finger at me. Guess I’m enlightened now.”

“This is no time for jokes,” Oliver said sharply. “Can you stand?”

Charlie nodded, and with Amelia and James’ help, he got to his feet. His steps were unsteady but functional. Still grinning, Charlie quipped, “Guys, I’m fully charged now. How do you like my new hairstyle? Got that curly lightning look, huh? Hand me a light bulb, and I’ll show you my powers. I’m a walking energy plant!”

“Enough,” Oliver interrupted. “Just give me the car keys. You’re in no condition to drive.”

Charlie’s grin widened. “Who needs keys? I’ll just touch the car and start it myself.”

Amelia groaned, clearly annoyed. “Stop messing around. You need a hospital, not a spotlight.”

For the rest of the trek to the car, Charlie stayed quiet, though his occasional smirk hinted at lingering amusement. Once they arrived, he reached into the burned pocket of his jeans and retrieved the keys. But they were ruined, melted by the lightning’s heat.

“Great,” James muttered. “Now what?”

Charlie’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Now, I show you what I can really do. No more talk — just action.”

Placing his hand on the car door, Charlie grinned as the lock clicked open. He climbed into the driver’s seat, put both hands on the steering wheel, and, to everyone’s astonishment, the engine roared to life.

Oliver, Amelia, and James stood in stunned silence before Charlie leaned out the window and said, “Get in, folks. It’s time to put my new powers to the test. Let’s get this party started.”

Antoni Font, Aberdeen, 06/08/2019