Boom! Boom! Boom!

When Kevin was born he did not have super strength. His dad told him he was just a normal baby. He didn’t show signs of the Ultra Syndrome until he was almost four years old.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

His dad remembers the day they found out he was an Ultra. It might have even been the day he became an Ultra. Kevin was playing in his room with a toy dump trunk. The truck was made out of metal. His dad stuck his head in to check on him and saw that Kevin had crushed the toy into a small little yellow ball as if it had been made of aluminum foil.

His dad had seen all the public service announcements about the Ultra Syndrome. He knew what to do if you thought you had it. He knew where to report to the authorities.

But the seriousness of Kevin’s situation didn’t sink in for days. Kevin didn't show any more signs of unusual strength, and his dad thought he might have been mistaken, or that it might be something that already passed. His dad didn’t want to say anything until he was sure. He didn’t even tell Kevin’s mother.

After the accident, his dad knew he had waited too long. After that, he took him right to the proper authorities.

Once his dad got him to the registration office and all the tests were done, Union Ultra helped them out a lot. Dr. Nelson knew just what to do with a kid like him.

Dr. Nelson told them there were different kinds of super strength. There was the “escalated effort” kind that people could control so they could tie their shoes without breaking the laces, or pick up a glass without crushing it. Other times, when they wanted to, they could lift a bus.

Then there was the kind that you couldn’t control. That was the kind Kevin had. Any movement he made came out super strong. No matter how careful he was, he couldn’t be gentle enough. If he tried to open a door he ripped it off the wall; if he tried to take a step, he jumped a hundred feet. If he tried to hug someone…

Boom! Boom! Boom!

He doesn’t remember his mother much. A flashing memory of her face. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Her smile. The scent of Prell shampoo made him think of her. That was about it.

His dad told him about the accident. He was just three when it happened. How could a three-year-old control the strength of a bulldozer? He shouldn’t feel bad, his dad said. This is the way God wanted things.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The resistance suit was bulky, but Kevin had gotten used to it over the years. He didn’t like it, but it kept him from accidentally hurting himself or anyone else. Dr. Nelson said that someday, if they could find a way for Kevin to control his strength, he might not have to wear it anymore.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The suit made a lot of noise when he walked. The four big hydraulic pistons placed on his arms and legs to resist his titanic strength, hissed with every small movement. Heavy steel joints squeaked and moaned with the slightest gesture. But the worst sound was the noise his thousand pound feet made when he walked.

Boom! Boom! Boom! The sound echoed terribly down the wide corridors of the Union Ultra Headquarters. Viceroy had started calling him “Little Thunder.” Kevin didn’t like the name. He was afraid of thunder.

Tomorrow was his birthday. He would be eight years old. His dad and Dr. Nelson had a huge party planned for him. The other kids with Ultra Syndrome were being flown in from all over the world. So were some famous kids from movies and television shows, kids he hardly knew. His dad said they were invited for the press coverage and it would be fun to meet movie stars.

But Kevin had butterflies over the party. TV cameras would be there for part of it. He didn’t like them. He didn’t like seeing pictures of himself in the suit. It made him look like some kind of monster. A robot monster.

The suit was a steel frame roughly shaped like a person, two arms and two legs attached to a body. Giant pistons, counterweights, and heavy power cables lumped about its limbs. It stood nine feet tall and weighed five tons.

At the center of the suit, nested in a cage of steel braces, brackets, buckles and electrodes, was Kevin; his arms and legs splayed out like a jumping jack stopped in mid-motion. From that position, they had taught him to interact with the resistance suit so that he could move. It wasn’t difficult. It was pretty much like walking normally except the big pistons pushed against him when he moved, and the weights attached to his legs and arms slowed him down a little. The cleanings weren’t much fun either.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

It was hard to miss him.

As Kevin walked down the widened hallway that led to his apartment at headquarters, he saw his dad standing in the doorway.

“Time to come in, Kev!” His dad called. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Even with modified doorways, Kevin had to turn his shoulders to get inside. Their apartment was the size of an airplane hanger. It had to be because of the suit.

He shuffled to the resting carriage in front of the television. With a series of hisses, the suit settled into the titanium cradle that supported it when Kevin was at home. Kevin made a gesture with his finger and the suit responded by turning on the televsion. Kevin sunk into an episode of Dragon Ball Z and waited for his father to bring him dinner. This was their routine.

After a few moments, the microwave dinged and his father came in with a hot dinner in a sectioned plastic tray. Chicken strips, mashed potatoes and corn. Kevin never ate the corn.

“Dad,” Kevin asked, not taking his eyes from the TV screen.

“Yeah, Kev?”

“Do you think the kids tomorrow will be nice?”

“Sure!” His dad said reaching into the steel housing and rubbing Kevin’s shoulder. “They’re your friends. Are you afraid they won’t be?”

“Nah.” Kevin made a motion and the suit hissed and whirred, then picked up a chicken strip and, with mechanical precision, led it to his mouth. “I was just wondering.”

They watched television for a long time before Kevin finally fell asleep, sitting upright as he always did, in the safety of the suit’s heavy frame.

THE END