When they were done, they sat on a park bench resting, drinking water, and eating sandwiches Charlie had brought.
“You aren’t like everyone else, are you?” Charlie asked out of the blue.
“Hmm…no. From what friends tell me, I have different DNA.”
“Friends? What friends?”
“Oh, no—if I tell you you’ll drag me off to the loony bin.”
Charlie laughed. “I seriously doubt that. You can do stuff, stuff I can’t explain with the rational mind. There's no way in hell you googled yourself to my experience at the hospital. And your parents didn’t tell you, that’s for sure.”
Sal had a guilty conscience. “I didn’t mean to pry, but sometimes I can’t help it.”
“What kind of shirt did I wear that day at the hospital?” Charlie challenged him.
Sal could feel the question rearrange itself inside of Charlie's brain to reveal the answer. “You wore a black Nike sweatshirt. Underneath it, you wore a white t-shirt which said 'Husband of the Year'—my mother gave it to you.” Sal didn’t want to cry, so he blinked a few times and looked away.
“No one ever saw the t-shirt that day because the sweater covered it up. True, they could have seen it when I was sleeping after I'd been arrested, but I doubt that.”
“It had a stain,” Sal whispered. “My mother accidentally spilled coffee on it when she leaned in to kiss you. The stain was never removed; you didn’t want it to. You still have a burn mark from the coffee on your chest.”
Charlie went silent for a minute. “That's something you certainly couldn’t have known. No one does.”
“Charlie, I’m sorry.”
“For what?
"For being different?
"I think it was Muhammad Ali who said: 'I don’t have to be what you want me to be.' It just explains a lot, that’s all—how you found me, and why your parents weren't more freaked out.
"What did you do to them?”
It was time to come clean. The truth would have to sink or swim. “I fried their brains,” he answered honestly. “I went inside their heads and planted some other idea, removing the possibility of a negative outcome."
“So, it’s some kind of Inception shit?” Charlie asked with genuine interest.
“I guess. They say I’m a mind-hacker with special DNA.”
“Who are they? Are you in danger?” Charlie asked.
“I don’t know if I should tell you about them. They're powerful.”
Sal felt a growing pain in his stomach.
“I have you, mind-hacker. I’m scared of no one. I just don’t want to lose you again,” Charlie said. Sal moved closer to him.
“They're Giants, I’m a Giant. We have special abilities, known as trades. We have DNA that's not from this world."
“Holy shit,” Charlie blurted. “Your special friend—is he a Giant, too?
Sal nodded. “There's still a lot I don’t know about them, but I think we’re the same.” His mind wandered back to the barn. What on earth had they been hiding in there?
Seth’s face appeared before his eyes, wet from the rain, his soft lips gently touching Sal's.
Sal jumped up from the bench.
Charlie looked thrilled at him. “Are you on fire?”
“Yes, I am, and it burns like a living hell.”
“Are you all right, Sal? I mean, how are you, really? You've been through a lot.”
“It’s just that stupid episode yesterday.” Sal took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. “And I miss Seth.”
“I can understand that.” Charlie looked at Sal and smiled. Happiness flared in his eyes. Charlie was awesome. He always listened with kind interest, and he always had something wise to say. Charlie was the kind of person that cared about people. He'd had a tough past but had evolved from it.
Sal’s face lit up a little, and he started to dribble the basketball; he could dribble with either hand and without looking.
“You’re good. Almost as good as me,” Charlie joked.
“Did you ever get any real gameplay experience? Didn’t fights break out back when you played?"
“Smart mouth.” Charlie chuckled. “Another thing you definitely got from me.”
Sal dribbled out onto the court. He took a shot, and the ball went straight through the net.
“The other team will never know what hit them.” Charlie’s eyes shone. “I’m proud of you, Sal.”
Sal beamed and a big smile formed on his face. “One more game?”