A New Age Chapter 1: The Man in the Suit by Coyote Howard

Chapter 1Roland looked up from his book to his phone buzzing on his desk. He was one of the only 22 year olds he knew that refrained from the technological age. Granted, he had some games on his mobile device, but they were simple affairs that he didn’t spend much time on.

Truth was, he didn’t feel like a typical senior in college, majoring in political science more because that’s what he was good at, the public speaking part, not because it’s what he liked. He was minoring in physical education, he figured that could be a good back up plan and it looked good on a resume.

He was a jack of all trades really, a bit good at anything he tried. He was average looking, a shade under six foot tall, 190 pounds, brown hair he kept in a medium fade (his hair was thick and course, not allowing for anything much longer) and his eyes were a hazel color. He prefered to wear what he was wearing today, all-terrain New Balance shoes, khaki cargo pants, a gray v-neck shirt under a navy blue half zip sweater. One would say he was unremarkable.

His father was an Army man, hauling he and his mother around the nation every three years, it hadn’t allowed them to put any roots down, which had caused Roland Jackson to not become close to anyone other than his parents.

His father had died just last year in Afghanistan, which had been hard. He made sure to call his mother every day he was gone since. It helped them both, as his father had instilled in him to be a man since as long as he could remember. It was the duty of a man. Nowadays there was so much about equality, yet there would always be roles to play. Roland had learned some from his father, some from his mother, and others on his own.

He’d learned that women were a treasure. They came in all shapes and sizes, all kinds of personalities and temperments. He was not a player by any means, his father had taught him about honor, that being a man meant owning up. Roland was either honest with the women in his life about not being exclusive, or he broke it off with the woman he was with if he felt the need to try something different.

Sometimes it went better than others, again, he’d learned.

He picked up his buzzing phone and looked at the text that had come in.

Roland didn’t recognize the number, so he hit his sleep button and went to put it down. Before he could though it buzzed again.

“What the hell?” he said under his breath, looking at the phone with perplexity, again going to set it down on the table again, again feeling it buzz as he did so.

Roland felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he slowly looked around for someone monitoring him. His father had taught him basic surveillance techniques as a game when they’d go to the mall and be bored when his mother was shopping.

“You can never be too careful. You can never be too prepared,” his father would say, “Now go see if you can get that woman to say that she has always wanted to own a cow.”

Stupid little games they’d play, but now he reverted back to them and what he’d garnered. Someone was playing a joke on him, had to be.

BUZZ

This ignited a mild flare of his temper, now bringing the response keyboard up.

Roland asked.

“I’m reading your mind,” a voice said, way too close.

Roland jumped up from his seat, the chair moving only so far as to allow him to do so, Roland bringing the book up as a weapon. Across the table from him was a man, who looked like he could have been Rolands brother, with a slightly different face. Slightly more lithe. And golden irises. He wore a normal black suit tailored to be fitted, with a white buttoned shirt and slim black tie.

“Whoa whoa, easy there Mr. Jackson,” he said, inhumanly white teeth showing as he smirked. “Please, sit. While no one will mind at this moment, once I allow time to continue it might seem – weird, for a chair to suddenly skitter across the floor.”

“Time to continue?” Roland asked, looking around.

The seconds on the clock in the student union were fixed: 3:04.43. The barista had stopped stirring the coffee he was preparing. The stress ball one of the other students across the room had tossed into the air was hovering. Smiles frozen. Strides frozen. Everything had stopped.

“Except us,” the smiling man said.

“Explain,” Roland said, grabbing the chair, that had been frozen on one leg as if falling over, and sitting back down, setting his copy of Patriot Games down as well.

“Explain? Just like that?” the man said.

“I’m either delusional, dreaming, or something beyond my comprehension is going on. So explain,” Roland said, rather calmly, though his heart was hammering and his anxiety was at an all-time high.

The man chuckled to himself as he adjusted his hands to fold in his lap, crossing his right leg over his left knee.

“Well, you are a special human,” he smiled. “I’ll cut to the chase then?”

“Oh, please do,” Roland responded, rubbing his quickly sweaty hands on his knees.

“I’m here to grant you powers Mr. Jackson.” His voice was serious, no tone of joking or whim.

“Powers?”

“Yes. Powers.”

There was a pause.

“I’m to grant them to you, give you a brief explanation of what you’re now capable of, and leave.”

“Right. So delusion or dreaming,” Roland said, looking out the window. There was a pair of sparrows frozen in flight.

“I assure you, this is neither.”

“Sure.”

“When I unfreeze time, you will have the power to alter a mortal human’s mind to however you see fit. You will be able to adjust their bodies as well. This includes your own, though why you’d want to alter your own mind I’m unaware of. The only limits are your imagination. These changes will be permanent, only reverting to their original state should you will it.”

There was another pause.

“A mortal human? So not you?” Roland asked, smiling. To which the man laughed out loud, standing.

“No, not I. Have a wonderful day Mr. Jackson,” he said, buttoning his jacket.

“And who are you? Why do I get these ‘powers’?” Roland asked, giving the last word air quotes.

“I’m unaware Mr. Jackson. However, should you choose to use your abilities, you must say the words, “I order.” Those words before a sentence will carry out said instructions. The deaf will read your lips, the blind shall follow your words. Electronics will not carry your orders, they must be in – range if you will. And now, I bid you adieu.”

In the moment it took Roland to blink his eyes the man was gone. Suddenly the room was alive again. Roland hadn’t realized how quiet it had been, with life having literally stopped for several minutes.

And he didn’t pick his head up from the table as if asleep. He didn’t have a headache or anything physical that he could tell, as different. He was trying to rule out the different things that could explain what had just happened, but after a minute he just decided he needed to try it out. That was the only way to tell if he was crazy or not.

He looked over and saw a cute brunette that had sat down a minute ago with her coffee. He rose and walked over to her. She was alone and if he made a fool out of himself he could play it off and only be a creep to one person.

She was cute though. She had on low rise converse shoes, jean shorts that were low rise, a yellow tank top and some kind of bra with a light cream sweater over top. Her purse was a brown leather affair on the table top. Her hair was in a hasty ponytail and she had dark metal, thin rimmed glasses on, while her fingers tapped away on her phone. She looked up at him as he came to her table, a look of slight interest.

She probably thought he’d hit on her or ask her out or something.

“I order you to give me your coffee,” he said simply.

She immediately picked up her coffee and lightly tossed it at him, which he wasn’t ready for, trying to catch it out of instinct while letting out a surprised ‘oh shit’, before it ultimately hit the floor and splattered everywhere, the hot liquid burning his hands along the way.

“Owww! What the fuck?” the girl said, standing up as coffee hit her legs as well, her size now apparent at about five foot three inches tall, with a petite frame but decent, good looking B or C cup breasts. “Why did I just throw that at you!?” she exclaimed. “I just bought that! God damnit!”

But Roland had an answer. Just like that, he could make people do what he wanted. Unless for some reason she had just done what he’d said automatically, and with results he hadn’t thought of.

“Sorry,” he said automatically, then thought quickly. “I order you to come with me,” he said, thinking about some damage control.

She immediately went blank in the face and stood stark upright, then moved with him when he started walking. People were looking at the commotion now, they needed to leave. But then he realized she’d just left, her phone was in her hand but her purse was still on the table.

“Go get your purse,” he said to her, but she didn’t do anything. “I order you to go get your purse.”

She walked over, still blank faced, collected her purse in both hands and stood next to the table in the coffee on the linoleum floor.

Roland walked back over to her so as not to shout.

“I order you to follow me and act natural,” he said, walking away again, but this time she got down on all fours and crawled after him, her hair starting to come out of her ponytail to look messy, her hands and knees and shoes still in the coffee, her purse now getting dragged through the liquid.

“Jesus christ,” Roland said, this was getting ridiculous.

Alright, I’ve got to break this down. Make it work for me. Allow her to be her but to follow my orders still. Got to phrase it right.

“I order you to act as who you were, but to do as I say,” he said, to which she suddenly blinked and stood up, looking down at herself in uncertainty. “Now come with me,” he said, and she looked up and regarded him, then followed him as walked through the room, a Starbucks employee coming over to them.