Super Meals: Part Twenty-Six

            Twenty minutes had passed.

            Doctor Ralph’s legs had fallen asleep from crouching in the bushes, waiting for something to happen and Detective Mimi was just about done waiting.

            “Seriously, I have no idea why it doesn’t seem to be working,” said Walter. “Yesterday it kicked in a lot quicker.”

            “Maybe it was just the wrong combination of food?” asked Mimi.

            “I guess so,” said Walter. “It’s certainly possible, but I was really, y’know, hoping to get some answers.”

            “How do you feel now?”

            Walter sighed. “The same as I felt last time you asked. Full. The food was good, like it always is, but I didn’t get that same sort of heavy feeling as I did last time. I don’t know what else to say.”

            Mimi waited a minute, checked her watch, then asked, “And how do you feel now?”

            “Dammit,” said Walter. “I said I feel FINE.”

            The last word was more felt than heard. Mimi rocked backwards and rolled off the picnic table she was sitting on while Walter’s eyes went wide and he immediately clamped his hands over his mouth.

            From where he was hiding, Doctor Ralph perked up and made to stand up, but his legs were completely numb and he fell over.

            Mimi was too busy picking herself up and Walter was too petrified of what had just happened to notice Doctor Ralph, who was maybe 20 yards away and splayed out on all fours.

            Walter was scared of what she would say or do when she recovered, but was surprised to hear Mimi laughing. She brushed herself off and said, “Nice one, Dragonborn. Were you saving that one up or something?”

            Walter shook his head.

            “So you don’t know how you did that?”

            Head shake.

            “So how do you feel now?”

            Angry eyes.

            Mimi laughed, then said, “Fair enough, Banshee. But seriously, you think you got another one in ya?”

            Walter looked up and over, thinking about it, and bobbed his head as if to say “Well, maybe.”

            “Tell ya what,” said Mimi, walking over behind him and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Let’s point that thing somewhere safe,” she said, turning him towards a seemingly empty patch of shrubs. “And then we can try to make it happen again.”

            Within the shrubs, looking straight at Walter and Mimi, Doctor Ralph was desperately trying to massage some life back into his legs, but they weren’t responding.

            Mimi pried Walter’s hands from his face and said, “All right, now think about how it felt to do that. Was it the emotion that triggered it? The yelling? Try saying something.”

            Walter whispered “How about this?”

            Nothing happened.

            Mimi said, “Try again. Maybe this time use your indoor voice?”

            This time Walter’s voice was more than a whisper, but not by much. He said, “Is this any better?” but, again, nothing happened.

            This time Mimi sighed and said, “Come on, Songbird, you wanna do this or not?”

            “Can you please stop calling me names?” asked Walter. “It isn’t helping.”

            “Sure thing, Black Canary.”

            “What did I just say?” asked Walter.

            “I dunno, Siryn, why don’t you speak up so I can hear you?”

            “Fucking KNOCK IT OFF!” said Walter.

            And there, 20 yards ahead of him, was a hole in the shrubbery; blasted clean through from the power of his voice…

            …and no sign of Doctor Ralph.