The Phenomena of Fireflies and Star... - Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Andrade Residence
2:01 PM
The table wasn't a big enough space for Max. He'd been sitting on the living room floor for an hour now. Ames's books surrounded Max like a fence, albeit a messy one. Reading had always been such a treat for him. He'd also been quite the fast learner back in his youth. He hadn't exactly been the topmost student in class, but he definitely remembered being memorably accomplished. Of course, the 1930s educational system was a thing of the past. A different time for learning that modern education had since progressed from.
He used to know people who had been successful enough academically and financially to be pensionados.
Due to his transformation into a superhuman, his intelligence level had gotten a significant upgrade. As unconventional as his learning programs had been in the following decades, they'd truly been effective and indicative of his advanced cognitive capacity.
It had only been a few hours. Max had already finished reading five books: three English communication books and two Literature Critique books.
He'd decided to read a fictional piece for his sixth.
"In Defense of Sidapa by Ethan Mariano," Max read the title, going for the blurb at the back of the book next. It was quite an interesting blurb, talking about the forbidden and secret union of a farmhand and a town governor. As per the blurb, the story took place in the 1890s. Max wondered how things had actually been during that time. He was sure, however, that it had been difficult for the characters, especially in consideration of how the Spanish colonization had affected the country's views on sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression. Max was familiar with the myth of Sidapa and Libulan, and so he found it interesting how the writer had made the comparisons and contrasts between two similar love stories in two different time periods and paradigms. "This should be a good read."
Ames seemed to have curated quite the collection all these years. The guy had a lot of books.
Interestingly, they had annotations and colorful highlights, too.
"Somebody likes to go comprehensive," Max commented.
The soft hum of a car engine came upon the gate.
'He's home,' Max thought, standing up to confirm whether Ames had just returned. 'Ames is back.'
'He's not gonna' believe this.'
Max was right. He observed in amusement as Ames slowly sat on the floor in front of him, eyes locked onto the finished books.
"You read them all?" Ames inquired, his hand sliding over the books on the floor before him. "Like, cover to cover? Like, you get the point?"
"Yep," Max replied, stacking all of his finished books together. "Advanced Cognitive Processing and Information Retention. That's what they called it back in the Research Lab."
"You're super smart...," Ames hypothesized.
"More like...," Max began. "A subject's capacity to learn and adapt is advanced to a higher level that's individually tuned to the subject."
Ames was looking at him questioningly, and Max knew exactly what to do to convince the guy.
"Alright," Max said, clearing his throat as he sat properly and laid out the stack of books before him like cards on a deck.
"Oh, are you gonna' demonstrate something?" Ames asked tauntingly, grinning at his own slyness.
"Well, I need you to believe me," Max explained, enjoying the taunting quite a bit. Ames was just there, looking at him with a clever grin.
"Hey," Ames chirped, lifting up his hands in surrender for a bit. "You're a superhuman. You're a walking sun. I'll believe anything."
"Yeah, but I need you to believe believe," Max pressed on, actually feeling a tiny bit helpless at how well Ames was keeping this up. "Come on, Ames."
"I believe believe, okay?" Ames insisted, pursing his lips. "Truly."
"I'm counting on that," Max said, getting the pulsation of truthfulness.
"Hit me with your best shot, cowboy."
"What?"
"I mean...," Ames said, blinking as if in disbelief at what he'd said. Max wondered why Ames had called him a cowboy. He ultimately figured that it could be just another figure of speech. He knew he needed to catch up. "Show me something. I really do wanna' see it."
"Okay," Max said, clearing his throat yet again. He tapped on each of the five books. "From left to right, it's going to be Book A to Book E."
"Carry on...," Ames urged curiously.
"Give me a phrase and I'll tell you where it's from, who said it, what it's about, the page, and which paragraph it is in which page," Max dared. "Don't hold back on me."
"Alright," Ames replied, immediately thinking of something. His face then lit up in his eureka moment. "Alright. The phrase is, "the story could have benefited from a deeper dive into the lifestyle of the Aeta tribe". Go."
Max knew exactly what Ames needed to hear. At once, the images in Max's mind came into clear mental view, coming up one after another in a meticulously organized manner, similar to the previews of multiple slideshows.
"Book D," Max answered, placing a hand on the fourth book: Critiquing Ofelio Ferrer by Julio Santos. "Santos's protégé: Michael Damian. It's about Ferrer's book: Beautiful Arrows. Page 314. Three paragraphs down."
The more Max spoke, the more Ames's eyebrows threatened to meet in the middle. The disbelief and intrigue in Ames's face was delightful. Ames then quickly picked up the book to validate the answer. The disbelief in his face stayed as he flipped through the pages.
"Hmm," Max hummed, taking his turn in making fun. "Maybe this guy will finally believe me this time. I don't know what else I haven't done for him."
"Holy crap," Ames commented, looking up from his reading with an amazed look on his face. "Precise."
"Told ya'," Max replied, winking at him.
"Okay, okay, okay," Ames chanted in excitement as he put down the book. He looked at Max again, this time with a more engaged look on his face. "I need only to know which books, which pages in the said books they're in, but you're going to have to make sure you identify in the order in which they appear. Are you ready?"
"Got it," Max answered excitedly. He could feel his brain charging up a bit.
"Okay," Ames said, scoffing at the excitement. "One word, Max. Tell me where I can find the word, "although". Go."
It was comparable to being hit with an unexpectedly tall wave, how the memories flashed in Max's brain. He felt a bit stunned for about three seconds until he could finally visualize them properly, the way he normally did.
And then he went off, tapping books according to the instruction.
"Book 1, Page 1, Page2. Book 3, Page 2. Book 2, Page 3. Author liked to use "even though" more for that one..."
"Alright, stop," Ames said, holding up his hand with an amazed look on his face. Max put on his most clever smile as he waited for Ames to verify his answers.
As expected, Ames eventually looked back up at Max with evident wonder.
"You just keep on taking in information, don't you?" Ames commented. His voice had a somewhat studious tone to it. "I could hypothesize that you have an unlimited learning capacity, and I could be right about that, too."
Max nodded in confirmation.
"Every datum, every stimulus, every experience," he elaborated. "Consciously and subconsciously."
"I see," Ames replied in a low, thoughtful voice. He seemed to be thinking of something. Considering something, to be exact. Their eyes lingered on each other for a while, allowing for Max to pick up Ames's pulsations more strongly. Ames was definitely considering something. Max just couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.
5:52 PM
The lomi was just about done. The fragrance of the soup, in itself, was an achievement for Max. He was never really that skilled when it came to soups. Ames, however, was free for the night and had decided to help in the kitchen. Ames was preoccupied with flipping the breaded pork strips right by Max's side, still trying to blink himself into full attentiveness after quite a long nap.
"I don't think we've ever cooked together," Max commented, fanning the steam of the soup into his nostrils. "You're normally either busy or—yeah—busy."
"Well, it's been an eventful day," Ames answered. "It was busy and emotional and a whole lot of other things."
"Must be why you were snoring like a lawnmower, huh?" Max teased, biting his lower lip in his anticipation of Ames's reaction.
"I don't snore," Ames denied, glaring at him.
'There,' Max thought, patting himself on the back. 'This is gonna' be fun.'
"Yes, you do."
"How would you know? You sleep in the living room."
"Because you snore like a lawnmower. It's loud."
"You're playing with me."
"Yeah, I am," Max eventually gave up, elbowing a slightly annoyed Ames on the arm. "I don't wanna' make you cry, so I'm gonna' stop."
"Oh, you think you can make me cry?" Ames demanded, most likely revving up for a good response. "You wanna' see me flip that table for you?"
"No, sir."
"Good man. That's a good, totally safe, absolutely logical choice."
"Safety and logic," Max said, turning off his burner the moment the soup was good enough. "I'm the man for the job."
Max was about to take the aluminum pot when he noticed something outside the window above the stove. He looked past the back of the house in the next block, focusing his gaze on the light posse of fireflies flying around the partially visible street light in the distance.
"Fireflies," Max said, remembering one of his nicknames. He used to be called The Firefly fondly by the researchers back in the 1960s for obvious reasons. His bioluminescence and photokinesis had always been his most identifiable, and consequently, most popular powers. A good light show was always a good spectacle, and so he couldn't blame the admirers he'd had in Division all these years.
"Fireflies, where?" Ames asked excitedly, taking his turn to look out the window.
The spark of excitement was a curious change of energy from Ames.
"Stand here," Max said, taking a step back and guiding Ames into his vantage point by the shoulders. "Past the house. Look at the street light right there. Upper right corner."
"Ah, yeah," Ames swooned.
Realizing that he was still holding Ames's shoulders, Max respectfully removed his hands from them. Ames felt really mesmerized by the sight. Max was glad about it. Knowing how strong Ames's emotional pulsations were, Max was happy to receive his friend's joy just as palpably.
"I love fireflies," Ames went on. "I used to go to my father's farm. It's pretty far, so I really enjoyed learning how to hunt."
"Oh, you hunted?" Max asked, curiosity piqued. He followed Ames's steady gaze outside the window.
"Well, no," Ames replied, still fixated on what he was looking at. "I knew how to, but I never really hunted anything. I was always a good shot with the rifle, though. Lolo's .22 rifle. Bolt-action. I was good at farm work, too."
Max didn't expect this. He'd always seen Ames as very much integrated in the advanced world. All this new information, however, was a pleasant surprise.
'He's more like me than I thought,' Max realized. 'That's awesome.'
"I was always afraid of riding the carabao, though," Ames went on. "I tried mounting one and slipped off to the other side. Total klutz."
Max couldn't stop himself from snorting. When Ames looked back at him questioningly, Max realized how close he had unknowingly leaned onto the guy and took another step back. He hoped Ames hadn't noticed.
"What's that snort about?" Ames demanded, eyes squinting and finger pointed at Max's chin.
"Nothing!" Max replied, huffing in quiet laughter with his hands raised. "It's just that you said it really funnily. I was imagining it."
Ames rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the fireflies outside.
"You're mean," Ames complained. "You're probably that one friend who will video record a drunk friend acting stupid in a party for later laughs."
"Nah," Max replied. "You just have comedic timing. It's good."
Ames sent a weak and playful elbow to Max's direction, missing amusingly.
"Seriously now," Ames said. "My kuya and I loved to sit on the farmhouse porch after sunset and watch the fireflies. He's musically talented. He'd sing and play the guitar, and I was his audience. The fireflies, too."
'Sounds like a beautiful memory,' Max thought. He had seen a lot of things in his life, but for a long time, he had experienced the world in the perspective of someone who had the luxury of time and space. His human experiences, while mostly unforgettable, had been overshadowed by his experiences as a superhuman. They'd been both liberating and, paradoxically, constricting. Complex. Max yearned for simplicity.
"You must miss that," Max commented. "Sounds like a pretty good time to go back to."
"Oh, it was," Ames replied. This time, Max could feel an hint of sadness in Ames's pulses. "Wanna' go back to when all I had to worry about was talking to my parents about how I was messing around at school."
Max had figured that out.
"Fireflies are always a mood lifter for me," Ames said, his voice dreamy. "Always."
With that, Max had an idea in mind. Ames had been sharing the house with him for two weeks now, and he'd been helping the young man take care of it, among other things. He wondered if he could do something solely to boost Ames's mood higher up.
'Fireflies, huh?' Max thought, deciding to stick with the idea he had in mind. He'd reserve it for after dinner. The pork strips should be ready. 'Fireflies, it is.'
8:15 PM
"Why am I kind of regretting saying yes to this?" Ames commented, chuckling awkwardly.
Max led the way up the stairs while Ames followed closely behind. He knew Ames was nervous. Rightfully so. He'd never been this excited to ask Ames to come up with him to the bedroom. In fact, Max had never asked him that.
Max sincerely hoped that Ames wasn't getting his intentions the wrong way. Then again, the guy didn't have a single clue as to what was about to happen.
Max was almost tempted to guide Ames by the hand, but he decided that it would probably creep the young man out.
"Don't be nervous," Max said, trying to sound reassuring and sounding a wee bit sinister instead. "I mean, yeah. Don't be nervous."
"It's not every day that my roommate tells me to go to the bedroom, keep the lights off, and stay calm," Ames pointed out. "Not to mention, Mister Roommate looks and is stronger than me."
"I won't hurt you or anything," Max said, looking back at Ames. Ames stared back. Max could feel a complex but understandable mix of trust and nerves from him. "I promise."
After a while of just staring back, Ames finally let out a sigh.
"Okay," he said. "Okay. Just get on with it. I'll trust you."
"You won't regret it," Max swore, reaching the bedroom door and pushing it open. The bedroom was pitch black. The dark curtains over the closed windows weren't helping the case. It was just as Max wanted. He walked in first, looking back at Ames, whose nervousness kept him attached to the open doorway.
"You're really not gonna' turn the lights on, huh?" Ames inquired.
"No," Max replied. "I need you to come in and close the door behind you."
Max understood Ames's hesitation.
"Please, Ames," Max pleaded. "I promise I won't hurt you."
"Okay...," Ames said meekly after a silent pause. The moment Ames had finally walked in and closed the door behind him, Max brought his hands close together, channeling his power through his palms.
"I don't think I was ever able to really, really say my thanks for, you know, everything well enough," Max spoke softly, feeling his energy charge up. In the next second, a tennis ball-sized orb of dancing lights formed between his hands. "So I thought I'd show you something."
The soft multicolored illumination of the photokinetic energy ball revealed Ames's expression of awe as he stared at it.
"You like it?" Max asked, smiling warmly at the sight of Ames's look of wonder.
"What do you call it?" Ames's voice was almost a whisper, his eyes glancing up at Max's only for a bit as he carefully approached.
"It's an orb of light," Max explained, clasping his hands and deactivating the orb, much to Ames's surprise. Max then threw his hands out sideward, making nine orbs. Their collective illumination was much brighter this time, and Max allowed them to warp in color. "Photokinetic constructs. Holograms. A light show."
"Oh my god," Ames gasped, feasting his eyes on the spectacle. Max could feel Ames's awe and fascination in waves now. "I've never seen your powers up close. I didn't think they'd..."
"Didn't think they'd what?"
"I didn't think they'd look this beautiful."
"Oh, yeah?" Max proceeded to the next thing on his mind. Making soft swirling motions with his arms and hands, the light orbs began to revolve around him. One of them flew too close to Ames.
"Ah!" Ames gasped, anxiously covering his face with his hands and jumping back. He hadn't even noticed that some of the orbs had already harmlessly phased through him. "I hate you, Max!"
"You won't feel it!" Max said, watching attentively as Ames slowly uncovered himself. The nervousness in Ames's face slowly transitioned into disbelief at the sight of the light orbs disappearing into one side of his body and flying out the other.
"Awesome, huh?" Max asked. Ames looked at him with wide eyes and a wordless amazement, nodding in enchantment. Max made the swirling motions again, lifting his hands higher as he did. With an upward pushing motion, the orbs flew up close to the ceiling, taking a solar system-like formation. Max observed Ames as he looked up at the colorful holograms above.
"If that's a solar system," Ames spoke, captivated by the light show. "You're off by one orb. Pluto's out of the picture. Cool power, though."
"We called it photokinesis or the manipulation of light," Max explained. "Not only can I manipulate it, I can also generate, become, absorb, and amplify it. Even in ways that are hard to achieve with civilian-accessible technology. I actually can emit electromagnetic radiation from inside of me. I can use it, control it, manipulate it. Even turn it off."
"Wow...," Ames swooned, reaching out to touch one of the orbs hovering steadily above him. His finger phased through it.
'Onto the next part of the show,' Max thought excitedly as he gestured for Ames to come closer before him. Ames complied, looking at him as if asking him to hurry with what he was planning to do next.
Max delighted in Ames's almost child-like wonder. It was so pure and unfiltered that he almost forgot he was looking at Ames.
"I know you've been fighting hard, especially recently," Max said. "I'm to blame for that. Partially. Largely, actually."
"We're in this together, remember?" Ames reminded him. "You have a friend in me."
"I know...," Max replied. "That's why this is me saying "thank you" and "I'm sorry" in the way that you'll know is sincere of me."
"I know you're sincere," Ames pointed out, a pleased smile on his face.
"I know that, too," Max went on. "Just please let me show you."
After receiving a nod of permission from Ames, Max shot his hand up in the air.
At once, the light orbs exploded and dispersed all over the overhead space of the room. Almost immediately after, the lights' colors turned into warm yellow.
Just like fireflies.
"Oh my god!" Ames exclaimed as he marveled at the sight of a thousand firefly-like photokinetic constructs. Max couldn't help but smile widely at the overwhelmingly happy pulsation coming from Ames.
He watched as Ames looked up and allowed himself to be engulfed by the warm glow that was filling in the otherwise dark room.
With Ames's happiness, it almost looked as if he was glowing, too.
Max found it infectious. He observed as his friend reached out to the constructs, laughing in amazement.
Max flicked his wrist, setting the constructs in motion as if they were real fireflies.
"Ack!" Ames gleefully screamed, retracting his hand and swatting Max hard on the arm for it. "Stop scaring me!"
Ames's laughter was loud and funny and liberated. Soon enough, Max was laughing just as hard. The lights truly looked pretty. They looked comforting. He watched as Ames reached out to them again, giggling like a kid as he moved his hand around in the dancing lights.
Illuminated by the warm glow, Max could see some tears on Ames's face as he laughed. As it appeared to Max, he'd achieved more than he'd thought he would. This would be the first time he'd seen Ames this deep in happiness. He intended on keeping the spectacle up for as long as Ames fancied.
"Thanks for giving me a chance to start over in my life," Max said. Ames looked back at him with sincere gratitude. "You have no exact idea just how much you've helped me."
Ames took a while to reply. Max figured that Ames probably didn't even notice that he was crying. They were both so in the moment.
"Thank you, Max," Ames said, hands clasped over his chest. "For taking me back."
They simply stood under the glow for a while, face to face in the comfort of a thousand dancing lights, caught in the hard-earned happiness of the moment.