IMMOLATION: Chapter 4

Matt walked calmly down the corridor. If Judge Dervin noticed the open file, it wouldn't take very long for him to catch up and Matt didn't want to look too guilty in that situation. Regardless, Judge Dervin would probably try to slap some kind of restraining order on him if he thought Matt was dangerous.

“Hold up a second, Mr Wellis,” Judge Dervin called from behind.

Matt stopped and waited. A part of him had hoped that Judge Dervin wouldn't catch him.

“Did you notice the open file on my desk?” Judge Dervin asked.

Matt thought, weighing his options. On the one hand, Judge Dervin had been straight forward with him and was, after all, just doing his job. On the other hand was the fact that Matt's past, no matter how unjust, was against him and this could actually be the chance he needed to see his dream fulfilled.

“Mr Wellis, I asked you a question.”

Matt sighed and then nodded.

“Yes, I saw the open file,” he said, “No I did not open it, Yes I memorized Joan's information but not on purpose. I have a photographic memory.”

Judge Dervin stared hard at Matt as though trying to detect any hint of deception.

“And yes, I was going to contact Joan for an interview,” Matt said at last.

“Then I suppose that's okay,” Judge Dervin said, surprising Matt, “But I'll be checking in with her about it and if I don't like what I hear there will be some serious consequences on your end.”

“Understood,” Matt said, not believing his luck.

Judge Dervin looked like he had more to say and wavered for a moment before turning and leaving Matt alone in the corridor once again.

Matt whistled to himself as he trotted down the courthouse steps toward where he'd chained his bike across the street. As he waited for traffic to clear he spotted a couple of men walking through the bike racks. Without warning, one of them pulled out a pair of bolt cutters and snipped the chain securing Matt's bike.

“Hey,” Matt yelled to them, “That's my bike!”

The two men grabbed the bike, threw it into the back of a waiting truck and were gone before traffic could clear enough for Matt to stop them.

“Did they seriously just steal your bike?” A woman asked from behind him.

Matt turned around and there before him was Joan Darcy. He probably wouldn't have recognized her in the jeans and T-shirt but the smell of burnt clothes that lingered in the air gave her away.

“Yeah, uh, that was my bike,” Matt said once he'd gotten over his initial shock. “But it's okay, I got their license plate.”

Joan pursed her lips as her eyes drifted over the press badge Matt had forgotten to remove and then back up to his face.

“You were in my hearing, today, weren't you?” Joan asked as she continued studying him.

It was difficult for Joan to be sure. The hearing hadn't lasted very long and she never really paid much attention to faces in the first place.

“Yes,” Matt replied and Joan's face darkened. “Is that a bad thing?”

“For you, I suppose,” Joan said and began to walk passed him. “My friend's on her way to pick me up and I was going to offer you a ride.”

Matt followed after her.

“Well, wait, a ride would be great.”

“Nope, sorry. I don't like people writing stuff about me.”

“And what if I promise not to write anything?”

Joan stopped and Matt held his breath.

“You write one thing about me, one word, and—

“Don't worry,” Matt interrupted, a habit he knew he needed to break, “Judge Dervin's already threatened me.”

Instantly, Matt knew he'd said the wrong thing.

“And why would he need to threaten you?” Joan asked as she backed away.

Dervin, Joan thought, no wonder she had trouble remembering his name. But too quickly that thought was pushed aside as the all-too-familiar warmth began to well up in her hands.

“Sorry, not what I meant,” Matt was saying, “He just—

“No, get back!” Joan cried with a new sense of worry and she cast her backpack to the side.

Matt noticed the change in her voice and he backed away as fire began to spread up her arms.

Just what she needed, Joan thought, lose control on her first day of freedom. She could already see her cell room.

“I thought you already burned?”

Other people were beginning to take notice and were forming a wide ring around Joan and Matt. Several of them had their camera phones out.

Joan's fire, though mostly contained to her hands, continued to build.

“I thought you already burned?” Matt repeated.

“Being upset sets me off too!” Joan screamed at him as the fire began feeding back into her anger and intensifying the emotion.

“Two men walked into a bar,” Matt said, thinking fast and hoping his idea worked, “And the first guy said, 'Oh, you didn't see it either?'”

Joan's flame stuttered a bit.

“What?” she asked.

“How do you get a one armed blonde to fall out of a tree?” Matt asked, but didn't wait for a response, “Wave at her.”

“You're a blonde,” Joan said, but regardless her flame shrank a little bit more.

“But I've got both my arms so I'm fine.”

Matt pantomimed hanging from a tree and waving with one arm, a stupid grin on his face. When he looked back at Joan, her fire was smaller.

“How are some people just like a slinky?” he asked.

This time, Joan had time to think, and as she thought, her fire shrank more.

“I don't know,” she said, “How are some people just like a slinky?”

Matt grinned as Joan's flame went out.

“Neither does much but they're both lots of fun to push down stairs.”

Joan allowed herself a snicker as the seriousness of her situation lessened. She had almost lost control, right here in front of the courthouse surrounded by a dozen or so bystanders. That would not have been good.

“Come here,” Joan said and began making her way back up toward the courthouse.

Matt followed, fearing the worst and that Joan was going to turn him in to Judge Dervin. At the top of the stairs, Joan spun on her heals and shoved Matt hard in the chest. Matt lost his balance and tumbled backward. Some people from the gathered crowd gasped but most laughed as Matt rolled over and over downward. The stone steps hurt, a lot, and by the time he came to a stop, several parts of him were bruised and bleeding.

“OW!” Matt cried out, “What the he—

“You're right,” Joan interrupted him as she skipped down the stairs after him, “That was lots of fun.”

Matt rolled over onto his side that felt the least bruised and eased himself up to his feet. Joan skipped right on passed Matt.

“Now wait a minute,” Matt called after her, “Could you at least give a ride to the hospital?”

“Like my friend wants your blood all over the inside of her car. Besides,” Joan said as she stopped skipping and turned to face him, “You don't need stitches.”

Matt wiped some blood from his mouth and flinched at the sting of his split lip.

“A ride to the bus stop then?” he asked and limped down the few remaining stairs.

Joan suspected the limp wasn't all real, but then again she couldn't deny he looked pretty hurt. She hadn't anticipated him to fall so far down the stairs.

Matt, for his part, was trying to minimize how pathetic he looked. Sure he hurt, but it was all superficial and though he'd be sore for a few days he knew he'd be fine. Mostly it was his pride that would take the longest to heal. Being a certified super-genius had a tendency to make him quite vulnerable whenever that aspect of his psyche got injured.

Joan looked around, considering, until the bus came around the corner and pulled up to the bus stop Matt had been hoping Joan wouldn't see. She shook her head and gave a Matt a wry smile. She fished something out of her pocket and flicked it toward him.

“Hold the bus,” Joan called and the driver waved to show he'd heard her.

Joan walked away, leaving Matt to bend down painfully and pick up what Joan had thrown to him. It turned out to be a small card. It read:

Joan Darcy

(The girl who burns)

Matt flipped the card over and on the back was her number. Her unspoken permission to call her was a welcomed conclusion to his otherwise unpleasant day.