The Library of Powers

Chapter 11 - part 5

In a dark corner of Dino & Sons stood a simple door. Through the door was a sparse hallway, with another door to the left leading to a sullen bathroom. At the end of that hallway laid a spacious room, in which once filled, now empty tables cluttered around a single machine. Jackson made an educated guess that this is where Ivory's father had tested the store's artifacts for their magical properties. Now there was no need for that, so it held only the machine.

Ivory walked up to the machine, placing a hand on its rough, cobbled together frame. "I don't know what it does," she told him. Jackson couldn't figure out what it did either. It was an enigma, something that should've been in some genius inventor's lab, not tucked away in a place where everything else of note at least pretended to be mundane.

"He was working on it endlessly. I don't think he made it, but he definitely had to fix it up. He never told me what it did, or what he was trying to accomplish with it."

Jackson took a closer look. "Have you tried using your power to see what it does?"

"Have I tried using my power to see what it does," she mocked, "No, it hadn't come to mind."

"Well then go ahead!"

She mimed concentration, putting a finger to her temple. "Mmmmm. Nope."

They shared a brief laugh. "So then it must not be from the shop," Jackson postured.

"Now you've caught on. No, I don't know where it came from. It feels, it just seems like it should have come from here, but as you already know..."

Jackson stepped back to take in the machine in context. It certainly did look like it belonged. He couldn't exactly say why, but it just fit. He couldn't even describe what the machine looked like, it was so obtuse, but as he told Ivory, "It definitely works."

"Well, not anymore. My dad eventually did get it working. Then he disappeared, and the machine broke again. I've tried to fix it, but honestly, I think I'm only breaking it further. How can I fix something I don't understand?"

A side table held a variety of tools, which Jackson had a hunch were not artifacts but purchased from a local hardware store. He grabbed a screwdriver and asked Ivory, "Mind if I take a look?"

With a nod, he set out looking for some sort of access panel. There was one low on the left side, which he quickly unscrewed. Jackson had read a lot of maintenance manuals and various books on repair while killing time in The Library. He wasn't good by any sense of the word --- never having anything to practice the techniques he read about --- but could probably make sense of what was going on.

Or he would have been able to if there was anything in the hatch. The panel opened to a single switch, but that wasn't the strange part. The switch, a perfectly normal light switch, was not screwed into anything. jackson picked it up to confirm his suspicions.  The entire section was just storage for an unused switch.

"Doesn't do anything if you flip it," Ivory said.

"Of course it doesn't."

Flustered, Jackson ran a hand through his thick hair. There was a lull in their conversation, the kind that happen every seven minutes until someone tells you they happen every seven minutes. To be honest, his heart wasn't fully in it, still stuck on what she had said in the Annex. Her reasons for him being a superhero were convincing. The nagging in the back of his head, however, kept him from truly agreeing with her. He felt maddened by it, especially because it just might not be his choice. The damn Writing Well, or whatever had sent him that message, said he'd need friends. Did that mean someone to share his secret with, or people to protect him?

Maybe, just maybe, it was meant people he could protect.

"So, about what I said earlier," Ivory asked, somehow picking up on what Jackson was thinking. Maybe telepathy was her real power. The question filled the room, stifled his senses, and was altogether a nuisance. Even though she hadn't asked it yet. He looked back on what went right and what went wrong this tumultuous week. When he put himself out on a limb, that was when things went well. It wasn't exactly trusting his gut, no, his gut often told him to play things safe. It wasn't his gut, nor his conscience, but another voice altogether. Maybe it was that voice that Melanie used when she got serious. Or maybe it was the voice Chase and Sam seemed to always be able to use. It was that voice which Jackson used when he answered Ivory.

"I'm in," he said. Ivory didn't respond, didn't smile. She walked back down the hallway, away from the impossible machine. He wasn't sure if to follow or not. He waited a moment, but when he noticed she had left the door open. Heading through, he was greeted by a loud exclamation of "Yes!" Ivory was facing away from him, making a gesture Jackson could only describe as "Bender at the end of The Breakfast Club". When she finally noticed him standing there, she tried to play it off. "We're gonna do some real good, you know," she said, leaning not so nonchalantly on one of the many racks of tops in the store. This was even further proven when it fell over, taking both the many hangers and herself to the ground.

"Yeah, we will," he agreed, offering a helping hand up.

And everything was fine.