Nature Force

“Four kids,” I replied. “I don't have powers.”

Howie’s eyes laughed at me. “I seen you playing with that fire, Cave Man. You make it do your will.” His native drawl was musical, soft and reserved, merciless and accepting at the same time.

I shook my head. I was thinking, people who can't light fires shouldn't criticize those who can. But he was walking over to me. Reached out his hand, with a decisive look. “Gimme your lighter.” Fair enough. I handed it to him.

He flicked it a couple times, to make sure it was working. Then he made a fist, and squirted butane gas into it from the thumb side. Then, with a flick and a scratch, he opened his hand, and held a ball of flame there for a second. “Ever did that?” I nodded. He reached out the lighter, expecting me to make a fist.

I let him spray the gas into my hand, and then, at a nod from him, I flipped my hand over and opened it. The flames leaped up, an ephemeral orange ball. Tongues of flame licked the air around it, and then the fuel was gone, at one with the air. I looked at him. “So?”

He held up the lighter, waved it. It was still in his hand. He hadn't lit the fire. “You have powers, white boy.”