The Gunpowder Society

7. "How Strong Are You?"

Bruce and Peter made it back to their room and got ready for bed silently until Peter broke the silence, “Things would have been different if you and I were in the restaurant with Father that night.”

Bruce looked up and asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Peter continued, “the gifts that we new students have is in a whole different category than the older students.”

Bruce looked perplexed and Peter expanded, “The older students have the ability to heal and read minds…” he left the statement open-ended hoping Bruce would start to catch on.  Bruce did not.  “Our gifts, the powers of the younger students, are the ability to bend fire, ice and electricity, and you have super strength.”  Bruce nodded his head, but Peter could tell that he was not getting what he was saying.

Peter put it bluntly, “You, Gwen, and I wouldn’t need guns to kill any of the men in the restaurant.”

“Yeah, you and Gwen could use your powers to blast them,” Bruce commented trying to let Peter know he knew what he was talking about.

“Well, you would be able to stop them with your super strength,” Peter added.  Bruce looked worried as if the accusation were a condemnation.  Peter squinted in thought and then asked, “How super is your strength?”

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked.

"I mean, how strong are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you probably have never used the full extent of your strength, huh?” Peter asked.

“Uh-uh.  Have you?”

“Yeah, when the wolves attacked my sister and me I used my gift to the full extent that I could at the time,” Peter answered.  “With Fr. Maven’s help I hope that I’ll be able to do more.”

Bruce continued to get ready for bed in silence, but Peter’s mind was racing with thoughts.

“They… We have a gym here.  We could see how much you can lift!” Peter said in excitement.

“Okay,” is all that Bruce said in reply.

The two boys had stripped down to their boxers for sleep since they had no pajamas or anything.  Peter looked at Bruce with his shirt off, and said, “Flex your muscles,” and Peter held up his arms in a display of flexing.

Bruce did the same raising his arms bent at the elbows.  Peter looked, but Bruce’s body was just like an average eight-year-old’s; scrawny.

“Hmmmm,” Peter replied.  “No offense, but you don’t look super strong.”

Bruce did not say anything.  They jumped in their beds, and turned off the lights.  They sat in silence for what seemed like ten minutes.

“Bruce?” Peter called.

“Yeah?” Answered Bruce.

“We’re really gonna be good friends, right?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure of it.”

“Well, I feel like I’m doing all the talking and you’re not,” Peter said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Bruce replied.

“No… that’s okay.  You don’t have to talk.  I just want you to know that good friends are supposed to listen to each other.  Even when what the other one has to say is tough to hear.”

“Okay.”

“I’m saying this,” Peter continued, “Because I know you must have a lot to talk about, and I want you to know that since we’re brothers now I’ll always be here to listen to you no matter what you need to talk about.  Okay?”