Miracle Springs, The Start (part 2)

[Jethro]

The story to date (see Miracle Springs, The Welcome (Part 1):
Our narrator, diverted from his cross-country trip by a violent storm, wakes up in a tiny mountain town where a massive muscled stranger makes him feel welcome.

Miracle Springs, The Start (Part 2)

The stranger?s words of welcome were simple but the effect profound. I felt my body settle down in calm anticipation of whatever might happen next. I usually worried about the past, the present and the future?all at the same time?so that in my head I lived perpetually agitated, anxious and defensive. Not now. Now, I simply focused on the powerful physical presence seated opposite me.

?Thanks for the kind welcome. I guess I should let go of your hand.?

?I?m the one holding on to yours. I want you to feel at home in Miracle Springs.?

?I do. You?re done your job.?

With that, his large hands squeezed my sandwiched puny one hard. Another unexpected flow of energy surged through me. Then he let go lightly, as if he knew he had me in his spell. I wasn?t so sure I wanted to be.

?Does every one get a shock from your handshake??

?Only those who are open to it.?

?My wife says I?m the most closed down guy she?s ever met.?

?Maybe you are with her.?

?Maybe that?s why she?s my ex.?

?Let?s get you some of Jack?s great coffee to open you up even more.?

With that, the kid from the kitchen appeared with a mug of steaming java.

?This will get you started,? said the boy, who put the mug on the table and stuck out his own mitt of a hand for shaking.

?Name?s Scott. My folks own this place and the motel. Welcome to Miracle Springs.?

I shook his hand cautiously, afraid of another jolt of electricity. But I only felt a good strong handshake. Looking up, I realized I hadn?t noticed just how big this boy was when I?d walked in. Now I saw his chest spilling out over the top his chef?s stripped apron, his shoulders and arms expanding the white polo shirt underneath with as much, if not more bulk than the t-shirted giant opposite me. The kid wasn?t as muscular or defined by any means but his sheer heft was imposing. And oddly comforting. His open face and wide grin just added to that comfort level. I spoke spontaneously without any mental editing, a rare occurrence.

?You guys are really making me feel so much at home. But you?re both so huge. I feel like a shrimp by comparison.?

My booth mate looked across at me and then smiled up at Scott. ?This boy?s grown a lot in the last few years. Used to be the smallest kid in his class. ?Scott, the small one.? That?s what they used to call him. But then he decided to take matters in his own hands and fulfill his vision of being a power lifter. Didn?t you, pup??

?Sure did. Thanks to Jack, here, I just stayed focused on Poundstone.?

?What?s a poundstone??

?Derek. Derek Poundstone. You don?t him? One of the world?s strongest men. He?s my hero, my vision. I want to look and be just like him.?

Jack beamed like a proud father. ?You look and lift like him already, my lad. And soon you?ll be even bigger and stronger.?

?Jack?s the best coach we?ve ever had in Miracle Springs. You?ll see. Let me get your breakfast started, sir.?

?Neal. My name is Neal. Neal, the pudgy one.?

?Pudgy means you?ve got something to work with. Jack will take care of that. One Mountain Man special coming up for Neal, the next big one. I guarantee to give you the best tasting, most nutritious muscle building breakfast this side of the Tetons.?

?I?m kind of on a tight budget so half a Mountain Man would do.?

?It?s on the house this morning, Neal. You can?t worry about money after what you?ve been through.? Jack bounded away as if feeding me was going to be a joyous new thrill. I turned to my booth companion.

?How does Scott know what I?ve been through??

?That storm last night, your car being driven off the road by the rain, the long drive you must have made from somewhere to find yourself in these mountains so late at night. That?s all Scott means. Drink your coffee and relax, Neal.?

I took a sip of the steaming brew and felt the hot liquid glide down my throat and warm my insides. God, I needed this. They had no idea what I?d really been through.

?Great coffee.? I looked closely at the man I now knew was named Jack and wondered how I?d come to be in his presence. His face matched his body: broad and open but chiseled with a shining hardness. Difficult to say whether he was handsome or not and I was embarrassed to be looking to closely. But there he was with those blue eyes focused on me like I was some new slide slipped under his microscope.

?What?s the job on the coast??

?Nothing special.?

?We have a job opening here. Our Mountain Rescue Team needs a good man.?

?I?ve never rescued anyone in my life.?

?You can learn.?

?I?m an old dog with no new tricks. I can barely lift the nightly cans of beer to my mouth.?

?I can teach you the tricks of the mountain.?

?I?ll be on my way after breakfast. I don?t need a job, or a coach, thanks.?

?What do you need, Neal??

?That job on the coast. A fresh start.?

?Work here. Start here. Grow big and strong.?

?I?m done growing. Except for my beer belly.?

?You can look like this.? Jack jumped up and raised his white T to his chest, revealing a midsection that literally made me gasp. Cords of abdominal muscle jumped out of tight white skin and writhed as if they wanted to burst out and wrap themselves around my neck and drag me into his body. I was so shocked I laughed.

?Jesus, cover up. That?s obscene.?

?Obscene or exciting? To think you could be this hard and defined? Just a glimpse is all you get to entice you.? He held it open another second, then tucked his t-shirt into his jeans and sat back down with even more energy dancing in his eyes.

?I see you two guys are into your bodies big time. Great. I?m sure your winters are tough and it keeps you tight and taut. More power to you. You?re looking at an old softie, set in his ways. ?

? I see a man in front of me who can be huge and hard in every way.? Jack reached out his hand across the table to mine. I pulled away.

?I don?t need any more shocks, thank you.?

?OK, I just want to help. But only if you?re open.?

Jack leaned back and grasped both hands behind his head and stretched upwards. The huge biceps and triceps swelled so fully they nearly enveloped his head. And the back of his t-shirt stretched so wide across the back of the booth I saw nothing but an expanse of tight white cotton. How did someone get so big and hard? Why was I so transfixed? I?d never cared or thought much about muscles at all since college.

Now this guy expanded even further by stretching his massive arms wide across the back of the booth. Every muscle was defined and tight like those anatomy charts. Only these muscles were pulsing and alive with tiny veins etched into the surface of the skin. My eyes were drawn to a large prominent vein moving from the armpit, cruising like a full garden hose writhing in the cleft between the biceps and triceps, into the crook of the elbow, along the length of forearm, twisting onto the wrist, feeding the large hands with blood and power. How long was I staring at its clear-cut path? At the granite hardness of the arm, the heap of shoulders thrusting up the white cotton, the tectonic plates of chest muscle shifting underneath as he breathed in and out.

His whole frame expanded under the soaking light of the sun streaming in the coffee-shop window. Stretched out like Christ on the cross. But no nails would ever penetrate this flesh. There was no weakness here, no way to intrude. I could fling myself against this torso and make no dent. It would withstand my attack like a castle wall against a sea of invaders. Why did I want to dash myself against his hardness? Dare I jump onto the bulwark of this supremely muscled body? Find a foothold, scale the wall, cast myself into the dangerous depths of desire? He?d cast me down from the heights as an unworthy enemy, breaking me in pieces for my foolish attempt to force entry into this fortress.

What the hell am I thinking? I?m in some half-ass coffee shop in some podunk pit stop of a town in the middle of some nowhere mountains. I?m a middle-aged nobody, not some knight on a quest against a mythic giant. I lowered my eyes to my mug of coffee.

?So what do you want, Neal?? Jack asked, bringing that enormous body back from its expansion and settling his forearms on the table and leaning in close to me. ?What do you want??

I leaned forward on the table myself so our faces were quite close together. I could only whisper, ?Do I have to want anything?? He blew a short blast of breath that covered my face in a bath of warm, soft air.

?What the fuck are you doing??

?Blowing a bit of fresh life into you.? Our faces stayed close, our eyes only inches apart.

?You have no idea who I am.?

?Oh yes, I do. I know you well.?

?You?re a stranger to me. I?m a stranger to you.?

?I?ve been you. I am you.?

?I?m not you. I could never be you.?

?You could. Want it and you could. Feel me and be me. ?

I must have fainted because the next thing I knew he was lifting me up from the floor, his huge hands tucked under my armpits, raising me up like I was child?s rag doll and propping me up in the booth.

?You need some food my friend. When was the last time you ate??

?Some candy bars in the car last night just before the storm hit the highway.?

?Then we are just what the doctor ordered.?

Scott appeared with two huge platters of food.

?OK, Neal, here we go with a Mountain Man special to get you started: two grilled skinless chicken breasts, six fresh eggs from my mom?s own chickens, scrambled whites, a mound of ground corn grits, whole wheat biscuits and our special Miracle Springs preserves.?

Jack passed his hands over the food as if to bless it. ?Eat up, Neal. You?ll need it for wherever you?re going.?

Scott looked chestfallen. And it was a lot of chest to fall.

?You?re not leaving us already??

?He?s a busy man with a job waiting for him on the coast. Eat up so you can be on your way with our blessing over you and our bounty within you.?

?Jeez Jack, I thought he was a keeper. Well, hate to see you go so soon, man. Let me at least get you refills on your coffee.? Scott literally hung his head off his bull-like neck and plodded slowly away.

?You made an impression on that young man. He needs someone smart like you to teach him what I can?t.?

?I can?t teach anyone anything. I barely get by myself. Let me eat in peace.?

I attacked my platter of food.

?You?re right, Neal. I get my hopes up when I see someone like you. So much untapped potential. So much room for growth.?

?Save it. Not interested.?

?You could grow here. You could start on a path to becoming even bigger than me.?

?No way.?

?Way. It?s already started.?

?What?s started??

?Why not stay a day and we can work out together and you can see how it goes.?

?I haven?t worked out since college.?

?The muscles remember.?

?I?ve no muscle left.?

?They?re dormant. Lying in wait. Like the bears that hibernate in these hills. Waiting patiently for spring. They?ll come awake after a while. Warm to the sun, to the challenge of the metal plates. I know how to work with muscles. Trust me?

?I?m not some teenager you can pump full of steroids like Scott over there.?

?There are no drugs in Miracle Springs.?

?Right, tell me you?re natural. And I?ve got a bridge to sell you.?

?The mind is more powerful than any drug.?

?Maybe the nice natives here buy that line of dime store-pop psychology. I bet you?ve got yourself a cute little racket here. Far be it from me to expose you for the shyster you are. A big boy shyster but still a shyster nonetheless.?

?You?re closing down. I see what your wife saw. I can?t do anything if you close down.?

?I don?t need anything done to me. I?m fine the way I am. I?ll get this job and get back on my feet. That?s all I want.?

?Right. I?ll show you how to get to the ford of the river where they?ve got this emergency transfer system set up for supplies now that the bridge is down. You can get hoisted over to the highway and catch that bus.?

?Great. ?

?Then you?ll be on your way to a new start on the coast.?

?Yeah, that?s all I want.? Why did my heart ache in my chest? Why did I feel like crying? I?d only been with this man for about fifteen minutes and yet I felt like he was a long-lost brother, found again to save me. Why did I ache for him when I didn?t even know him?

?Finish up, you?ll need your strength.?

?I?ll say this, the chicken is fantastic, the grits heaven, and the preserves to die for.?

?To live for.?

Jack picked up a clean knife from a place setting.

?Ever bent one of these??

?You?re the strongman.?

?Guess I am.? Jack held the knife between the fingers of his hand and squeezed. I watched the muscles of his forearm bunch and writhe under the network of veins as the knife slowly bent into a U.

?A great small-town coffee shop trick.?

?Yeah, just a small-town trick. Why don?t you try unbending it so I don?t get into trouble with Scott?s mom??

?No need to humiliate me just because I?ve turned down your offer.?

?You probably couldn?t budge it anyway. Listen, I gotta take a piss. We can meet in the parking lot and I can show you how to get to that point in the river.?

Jack got up and walked slowly to the front. I couldn?t help but notice that his legs matched his upper body perfectly. Enormous thighs muscles filled his jeans. Even the calves strained against the fabric above his boots. And his ass filled out the back of the jeans like two walking watermelons. Why did every movement of his body hypnotize me? I had to get out of here.

I took a final sip of coffee and stood up slowly, afraid I might still be woozy. No, I was fine. The food had done the trick. I felt a rush of energy. I was ready for the highway and to be on my way. For a joke, and with no one to watch, I picked up the knife and grabbed it in both hands to see how weak I was in comparison to massive Jack. But with just a little effort the hard metal bent up like it was a piece of licorice. Must be some trick knife planted by that musclehead. I picked up another knife from a neighboring table and tried to bend it. I watched as my forearms, now strangely firm, bunched a bit as the knife bent into a perfect U.

What had he done to me? Was it that breath on my face? Was it the food? Was it the coffee? Was it his eyes? What was going on? Whatever it was I didn?t want it. I threw down the knife and made a mad dash for my car. I had to get out of Miracle Springs, now!

[nnnrg]

SO RESISTANT to what he really wants. Sad. And kind of familiar, I had that years ago when I had to overcome the negative self-image to start lifting. Then I wished I had done so a decade earlier.

[convolution]

I wouldn't hesitate...