//------------------------------//
// Worry Free 
// Story: Jumper: A New World 
// by PTTN 
//------------------------------//


Worry Free
1


He sat on the roof of his home, perched on top of one of the houses turrets, staring off into the horizon. He always loved the way the setting sun looked just before it dipped below the mountains, casting waves of red and yellow and orange along the peaks and ridges of the Rockies. The resulting image gave off the impression that the mountains were alit with a bright fire.

It was this time of the day where he could relax. It’s not like he did much anyway. There was not much for him to do at all. After graduating high school, his days were long and uneventful. His ‘father’ was never around; ‘Off striking some business deal with his company’s next customer, or wasting away in some casino and/or bar with his newest eye candy’, he thought to himself, snorting in disgust.

He was a pretty normal guy leading a pretty normal life.

His name is Jay. Jay is like any other teenage athlete. He was the captain of his high school’s wrestling team, he likes to lift weights, almost everyday, and holds some weight lifting records at his old high school. He would like to consider himself very strong for his size.

There is nothing too special about his looks, either. He stands at a breathtaking 5 feet 5 inches tall. Jay figures that the constant weight lifting and weight cutting that wrestling put him through has stunted his growth, but he doesn’t care. As long as he is strong.

He shaves his brown hair, he wears nothing but gym shorts and t-shirts and the previous year, he adorned his right bicep, shoulder, back and chest with a tribal tattoo. ‘Heh. That set me back quite a bit.’ He thought. A slow smirk crept onto his lips as he remembered his opponents on the wrestling mat stare at it in shock. ‘Worth it.’

His most stunning feature, however, would turn a few heads. His eyes were blood red. For as long as he remembered, his eyes drew the attention of passer-by all around. He hated the unwanted attention. Whenever a curious onlooker would muster up the courage to ask him about it, he simply shrugged and gave them the uniform, “I’ll get back to you on that.” He never did, though.

As the memories swirled in his head, he fiddled with his signature black New Wayfarer RayBans. He bought the sunglasses to hide his eyes from the general public, and he never took them off. He finished his signature clothing combo with his black and white Rhino Wrestling beanie. He loved the ratty old hat; pulled down to his brow. He would slip the sunglasses underneath the sides of the hat, and his identity would be complete. He wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Jay absolutely hated attention. Whenever someone tried to strike up a conversation with him, he would trail off and shout something taking out the trash. Many people wondered what he was doing taking out the trash in school, but no one cared that much. He figured if he doesn’t absolutely have to talk to someone, then he won’t.

He fit the sunglasses on his head, over his eyes, as the sun dropped farther below the horizon, as he leaned back. ‘Yep, perfectly normal guy.’ He thought, with a frown slowly starting to spread. No matter how many times he lied to himself like that, it would never be true.

Jay was a Jumper.

At least, officially, he was. He had no idea what to call his... ability. He’d never met anyone like himself, and never told anyone about what he could do. Not even his ‘father’.

He was 7 years old when he first discovered his “ability”. He remembers the day clearly.

It was a beautiful, sunny day. He had been in the yard of his family home, tossing a baseball with his father while his mother looked on at the two with a loving gaze that only a mother could ever have, , her eyes red as blood, just like Jay’s.

He recalled his dad always mixing up his throws, throwing grounders, rolling fast on the ground, or pop flys, going high into the air and falling as they reached their peak. Such a simple game brought him so much joy. ‘Maybe that’s why I went on to wrestle instead of play baseball...... Or maybe it’s just because I suck at baseball...’ He thought, ‘Oh well.’

Thinking back to the day, he remembers his dad throwing one of his famous pop flys. Jay had instantly noticed that it was going far beyond him. He kept running back, and back, and back. The ball kept going. His dad shouted for him to watch the fence, as he had recognized that he had accidentally thrown the ball with enough force to land in their neighbor’s yard.

Jay had kept running, however, his eyes glued onto the ball high in the air. A thought suddenly struck him, and that thought reminded him that his family’s back yard was not that big. He remembers his eyesight flashing towards the fence, it being closer than Jay let most fences get without buying him dinner first. He then remembers the trigger. The image of his neighbor’s yard popped into his young mind. He remembers always climbing the fence to snag various objects that had been thrown over, so the layout of his neighbor’s yard had been burned clearly into his head.


*Whump*


Jay remembered standing there, with his eyes squeezed shut, his head lowered. Slowly, he had opened his eyes and raised his head, he had noticed that he was now standing in his neighbor’s yard. He had turned around to inspect the fence for a child sized hole, and he had found nothing but a fogged up view. It had been like someone took their thumb and smudged life. He had then climbed up the fence, maneuvering the hand holds like an experienced ball retriever (but not before retrieving the ball, like a good ball retriever). He remembers climbing up, popping his head over, then his arms, torso and finally legs. He remembers landing back in his yard, and looking up expecting to see his parents proud and approving faces.

He remembers. Horror. Revulsion. Disbelief. Shock. Anger. Despair. Pity. Both of his parent’s faces had been a light show of mixed emotions.

His mother had turned to go inside. His father had started moving toward him, grabbing him underneath his armpits and picking him up, squeezing Jay around the waist a little harder than had been necessary for a 7 year old. His father had put him to bed, neither parent speaking a word to him or each other. Jay had been scared (and a little miffed, it had only been 6 o’clock in the afternoon, who goes to bed at 6?). He had spent the next couple of hours in his blue and green striped room playing with his Legos, his model Star Destroyer had been the prize of his fleet, and it had taken him the rest of that day to finish it finally. Jay recalled the excitement he felt after spending 3 days working on his Star Destroyer and finally having it finished. He had dearly wished to show his parents right then and there.

But when he had wanted to shout out his parent’s names to show them his prize, the words caught in his throat. He had figured, maybe in the morning. He had struggled into his blue footie pajamas, and had gone to bed without another sound.

The next morning, he had thrown off his sheets, grabbed his Star Destroyer by the bow and thrusters, and had run down the stairs, shouting his parent’s names. He had been met with an empty house. He had been a little hurt that they had dared to leave after his great accomplishment but had thought nothing of it. He had decided that showing them later, when they had returned from whatever had them occupied would be all the more sweeter.

He had done what any other 7 year old would of done. He had climbed the counter, gotten the Lucky Charms, poured them into a bowl with milk (‘Cereal always comes before the milk.’ Jay reminded himself quickly, interrupting his train of thought.), flipped on the morning cartoons and then he had proceeded to plant himself next to the fireplace, where he had always played. He had happily munched his cereal and re-created epic space battles between the Imperials and the band of misfits, led by the Storm Trooper, that had abided by Jay’s command.

The day had passed. Dinner had come and gone, and there had been no word from his parents. They had still not shown up. Jay remembered sitting by the fireplace, the TV turned off as he had tried to think over his growling stomach, clutching his Storm Trooper. He had then shuffled off to bed, still clad in his blue footy pajamas, but there had been no one to tuck him in.

Jay recalled two more days passing, going just about the same as his first day alone. He had yet to jump again, as he had not fully realized what he was. No one had come home. He had grown tired of living off cereal and peanut butter and jelly. Just as he had finished his meager breakfast, he picked up his Star Destroyer, by the bow and thrusters, still ready to show his parents his pride and joy. As he had been walking across the living room, the stress of carrying it around was too much for the model ship, and it split in the center, the Legos slipping apart right in the middle. The halves had slid out of his hands, and his ship crashed to the ground, sending pieces of it every which way.

Like any rational child, Jay had started to cry.

But no one had come to soothe him.

A thought had then crossed his young mind: He was alone. No one was coming. He was alone.

Jay’s eyes started to water. He hated remembering his childhood, and as much as he tried to understand why his parents left, he could never understand it.

Going back to his memories, he remembered little after that day. With no one to pay the bills, he had been forced out onto the streets as a child, his home foreclosed. He had stopped going to school, and no one had seemed to care. He had been just another kid and when he had stopped showing up, his spot was just another desk.

Jay remembered re-discovering his ability, something about him getting himself stuck in a revolving door, and in desperation and a non-clear train of thought (i.e. Panic), jumping clear across town onto the top of one of his favorite highway billboards. It’s amazing how many people will see someone in danger, and not bother to help, especially a 7 year old. He had resolved to climb down using one of the ladders.

So that’s what Jay had done during his childhood. While most kids his age went to school, he had honed his ability. He had finally concluded that as long as he had a clear image of an existing place in his mind, he could go there, teleporting in the blink of an eye. His jumps were always instantaneous, accompanied by a small ‘whoosh’ and the weird, foggy screen that made everything look distorted. That would often disappear within a minute.

At first, his jumps had taken huge amounts of concentration and energy. They had left him feeling drained each time. He remembered the day where he had been able to make 2 jumps, and he remembered realizing that his ability was like a muscle. With practice, he could master it, and make his ability grow.

And master it he had. By age 9, he had been jumping from place to place like it was nothing. He had learned how to make small, minute jumps and he had learned to make jumps to the other side of the planet. He had still been a young kid, but it was survival of the fittest, and his jumping had helped him survive the harshest of times.

‘I was such an amateur back then.’ He smugly thought to himself. At age 18, his jumping ability was near limitless. He still felt a tiny bit of a strain, increasing with the distance of his jumps, but he felt that he would never be able to solve that, and the slight strain was never enough to incapacitate him.

The tip of the sun had almost dropped below the mountains.

‘I wonder how long I’ve been out here.’ He thought, scrunching his brow as he tried to remember what time he had jumped to the roof.

‘Ah well.’ He concluded, ‘I’ll stay out a bit longer, who the hell cares anyway?’

He adjusted himself into a comfortable position with his arms thrown behind his head, creating a slight cushion for his head, and fell back into his memories.

At age 10, he had been in Colorado, vacationing in the mountains. He remembered he had jumped to the top of Pike’s Peak, and had been hanging his legs off a rock, watching the sunset.

Just below him, he had spied a man. The guy had looked like he was ready to climb Mount Everest, with loads of unnecessary gear hanging off of him. Jay remembered that the man had been carrying some good quality stuff. Albeit unnecessary.

He had watched the man with slight interest, laughing to himself as the man’s gear continuously got in the way.

But that was all it took.

The ropes on the side of the man’s bag had come undone, and one conveniently placed gust of wind had sent the man stumbling over the fallen rope, and off the side of the ledge he had been perched on.

Jay had reacted quickly. He had jumped to where the man had fallen and had noticed that the man had still retained consciousness, but he had been slipping into unconsciousness fast. Jay had looked around to see if anyone was coming to help the downed man, as Jay had had no idea what to do or even where to begin.

He had looked down at the man and had said, “This is probably going to hurt.”

He had then grabbed hold of the man around his chest and jumped them to a hospital that had been clearest in Jay’s mind. The jump had knocked the man right out.

Jay remembered going back 4 days later. The man had woken up and had been asking about him. Fortunately, no one had had any idea of how to contact him, and that was just the way Jay liked it.

Jay had walked into the man’s room, his mind had been flooded with questioning thoughts. They hadn’t been questions of what the man wanted, but had been more along the lines of ‘What the hell do all of these machines do?’ and the bigger one, ‘What does this button do?’

He had to be continually reminded not to touch anything.

The man had been extremely grateful. He had been unsure as to how he had gotten to the hospital, but Jay had just played it off as a stroke of luck; he had explained that he had waved down a passing hiker, who had proceeded to call ‘Flight For Life’. The man had wanted to reward Jay. He had wanted to meet with Jay’s parents at a dinner hosted at the man’s house.

All it had taken for Jay to refuse was just mentioning his parents. With a calm “No”, Jay had turned and began for the door.

The man had been dumbstruck. The look on his face was enough to make Jay quietly snicker to himself.

It was then that the man had gotten out of his hospital bed, his IV still attached to his arm. He had had to pull the drip along with him, and he had caught Jay just as he had been about to exit.

The man had then proceeded to brag about his life, as Jay had looked at him, bored and uninterested.  

The man was some sort of business tycoon. He had said something about owning a large telecommunications company, or something like that, Jay had never really listened. The man had wanted to reward him and his family.

“You can try.” Jay had said. “Let me know when you find them, I would like to see them as well.”

The next thing he had known, the man started spouting suggestions of coming home with him. He had been all alone, such is the life of a businessman, and his house was certainly big enough for a child.

Jay had just shrugged. ‘If things go bad,’ he thought, ‘I can always just leave.’

And he had eventually grown fond of the man. He would never be his real father, but Jay had come to see him as a form of father figure, but, such is the life of a businessman, the man was almost never around, giving Jay free reign of the house. At least it was a place to stay.

The man had sent Jay to school. He had pulled some strings and had allowed Jay to go right into middle school, where he excelled scholastically, but not much in anything else. When high school rolled around, Jay had signed up for the wrestling team, quickly earning him the position of captain, as he had found his calling. High school was just a blur to Jay though. Where he excelled in sports, he lacked in education. Jay was in no way stupid, he just didn’t care. As one of his college recruiters had put it:

“Judging from your test scores, you know the material. The decline in your grades, however, may point to the fact that you’re just bored with school.”

Jay couldn’t help but smile and agree.

‘Of course,’ he thought, ‘Bored.....’

He had a couple of trusted friends, but he wasn’t too popular.  He never let people get too close: the fear of abandonment much greater than the need for company. Many people just knew him as ‘That buff guy with the tattoo’. And Jay didn’t care, as long as people left him alone. With the increase in public interaction, though, his jumping was severely restricted. He had let no one know about it. He had been close to no one.

And he thoroughly enjoyed his life.

He had found a home, and had found his calling: Wrestling. In just a few months, he was going off to college; riding on a scholarship to wrestle for that school.

Jay smiled at the thought. Wrestling for money! He couldn’t wait.

He sat up from his resting position, his thoughts coming to an end. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his military grade flip phone. Nothing fancy like all those touch screens, just something that was durable. And shock resistant. And water proof. And pressure resistant. It was actually more of a brick than a phone, but the only thing Jay cared about was whether or not it broke when he threw it. Usually the phone broke whatever it hit, instead. He had a temper sometimes.

Noticing it was getting late, he stood, clasping his hands together and stretching his arms above his head. This elicited several pops from his spine, just what he had been hoping for.

And with that, he lazily pictured his room, and jumped effortlessly.

He appeared about a foot over his bed, his chest and face towards the bed itself. He fell the last foot, landing with a muffled *thump*. He groaned, but being as lazy as he was, he just accepted the position he was in.

He hadn’t noticed, however, as a black shadow moved from the tree it had been balanced in; having a perfect vantage point of the roof Jay had just left. It’s blood red eyes filled with sorrow, but a stubborn determination.