Blac Power Upgrade

Certain things run in families, and whatever makes me what I am must be genetic, I think. If you think you've got problems, wait till you meet me, ladies and gentlemen. The name is Kelvin Gardner, and I'm a young man of African descent living in the City of Toronto, Ontario. The adopted son of Christopher and Danielle Gardner, formerly of metropolitan London, England, a British couple which emigrated to Canada. Being the Black adopted son of a Caucasian couple isn't so bad. They adopted me in the fourth summer of my existence, and I barely remember anything that came before.

Here I am, nineteen years old and studying business administration at the University of Toronto, just a guy living my life. Anyone looking at me would see a six-foot-three, broad-shouldered and well-muscled, dark-skinned gentleman. I've always felt different, and I don't mean because of my skin tone. What makes me different goes far deeper than that. You see, I am monstrously strong, I never get sick and when I get hurt, I recover really fast. Too fast to be anything even close to normal. My parents know, and we keep it a secret. Yeah, you've got no idea what it's like to be me, man. I feel like a monster, though I keep a smile on and try to lead as normal a life as possible.

I play paintball with my friends, Elias and Ruby O'Neill, just like I always have. They're these siblings who've lived next door to me forever. A pair of tall, red-haired and green-eyed twins. Elias is openly gay, and studies chemistry at Ryerson University. Ruby is tall and willowy, quietly gorgeous in a wallflower kind of way. I don't think of her like that because we grew up together and we've been friends forever. She's studying civil engineering at the University of Toronto and she's a certified genius. We hang out all the time, and she and Elias are the only people other than my parents who know about me. How they found out my secret is quite a story.

The three of us were in our senior year at Saint Catherine Academy, a private Catholic school in the west end, and we'd gone driving around Mississauga. There was a party, and we'd been invited. On our way there, we got hit by a truck. Our car flipped, and we were trapped. I got hurt but healed in minutes, while my friends were still dazed. I lifted the car off them. Understand that up until that point, while I knew I was immensely strong, I had never truly pushed my physical strength to the limit. I'm not sure how much a pickup truck weighs but I lifted it off Elias and Ruby. And that's how my two closest friends found out my secret. They swore to keep my secret, and for that I was most thankful. I mean, it felt great to finally be able to be myself around people other than my parents, you know? Made me feel like a normal person, for a change.

After graduation, instead of spreading our wings and going our separate ways like high school grads are expected to, we decided to stay in the Greater Toronto Area. When you're in Canada, you've got to make do with what you've got when it comes to big cities. Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver, Calgary and Ottawa, that's about it for big metropolitan areas with populations of a million or more. In the States, you have dozens of big cities to choose from. Not so much in the Great White North. Besides, I'm fond of Toronto. Many would describe it as noisy, overcrowded and congested but for me it's a little place called home, you know? I love it out here, what can I say? Attending the University of Toronto seemed like a good idea to me, and I guess Ruby had the same idea because we both ended up there. Elias ended up at Ryerson University, the nerdiest school ever.

I embarked on my higher education journey, just a superman in the big city, trying to figure out the same things that everyone my age thinks about. The usual stuff, you know? Sex, drugs, music, religion, identity, nationality, race, politics, the environment and all that other crap that college and University students around the world feel conflicted about. The University of Toronto is a social and political minefield for an average Joe like myself who just wants to get by. The Black Student Union came calling, as did the Islamic Students Association. With a smile on my face, I said no to both.

I'm a Black guy raised by a White couple. Black folks have been telling me forever that I'm odd, different and Whitewashed. As if there's some Universal code of Blackness that I don't adhere to. I get followed around the stores and get funny looks from cops just like every Black man in Canada. What do I have to prove to anyone? My interests are just that, my interests. I like hockey, I listen to country music, hard rock and a bit of jazz every now and then. My political views lean toward the conservative side of the political spectrum most of the time. I'm a Christian and proud to be. Yeah, I didn't fit in among my so-called peers at the University of Toronto. In University, you're supposed to make new friends and explore new things. I ended up hanging out with Elias and Ruby, just like I had back in the day. My old pals had embraced the University life far more than I did. Ruby joined the campus feminists and she became that chick who can't stop talking about gender issues and has Vagina Monologue T-shirts. Yay. As for Elias, he became addicted to pot and started dating a tall, burly Hispanic guy named Carlos. I think Carlos supplies Elias with both sex and booze, but I can't be sure. Elias was a hit evasive when Ruby and I questioned him about his latest boyfriend at Benny's, our favorite bar.

Yeah, it seemed that everyone was doing something with their lives except for me. Everyone has a cause to fight for, a relationship to bitch about, and all that jazz. As for me, I'm just the same old me as before. I hang out with the same old crew, doing the same old things. Ruby recently introduced me to her friend Stephanie Dorvil, a tall, athletic young Black woman with a West Indian accent. I guess Ruby thought that Stephanie and I would hit it off. Just to humor Ruby I did take Stephanie out a couple of times, and I can't say I was surprised when I discovered we had zero chemistry. Black girls don't like me. They can smell that I'm different from other Black men. I swear I must have "adopted by White folks" written on my forehead somewhere.

Poor Ruby, she seemed so disappointed when Stephanie and I told her that it wasn't going to work out. Ruby can be so dense sometimes, especially considering how smart she is for all the school stuff. I'm not into other girls, I want you, Ruby. That's what I felt like telling my favorite gorgeous redhead in my bolder moments. I've yet to muster the courage to tell her how I feel. I'm afraid it would mess up the friendship we've cultivated over the many years we've known each other. Welcome to my life. Oh, and for any geeks reading this who think having super powers might solve their problems, guess again. Having superhuman strength and endurance have done nothing to make my existence any easier, thank you very much.

Anyhow, that's how I felt, until the day things changed. I was walking around Mississauga one night, coming from a poetry slam at a friend's house. I walked into this dark alley, and saw a chick surrounded by a trio of burly men. They seemed oddly nervous, considering she had her back to the wall and they outnumbered her. As I stood there, debating whether or not to get involved, the chick did something absolutely amazing. She tore into them. I mean, she just grabbed one and threw him ten feet into the air like a rag doll. The other two she also made short work of. I stood there, mouth agape. The superwoman had apparently spotted me in the dark, and came at me with the speed of a heat-seeking missile.

I watched her come at me, moving faster than anything human. I did the only thing I could do, I defended myself. Assuming a defensive stance, I braced myself for impact. We clashed, and the shock wave we unleashed sent us both sprawling. It's like two trains colliding, basically. The two of us crashed on opposite sides of the alley, and lay there for several moments before either of us could get up again. When I got up, the young woman I faced came into clearer view. She was tall, easily five-foot-ten or more, long-haired and dark-skinned. Under any other circumstances I would have found her pretty, but it's hard to admire beauty in someone who's trying to hurt you. What are you? She asked in a low, husky voice that carried faint traces of an accent I couldn't place.

Don't know, I said earnestly, still keeping my guard up. She was about to say something when I heard the sound of police sirens. That's when she hightailed it out of there, and I followed suit. The young woman took off, and I took off after her. Before that night, I had never truly pushed my physical limits as far as strength or speed, as I said before. I was too busy flying under the radar, just like I promised my family I always would. So what was I doing, racing around Toronto at super speed, chasing a chick I saw beat up three grown men? Don't know, it just seemed like the thing to do at the time, you know? I chased her, moving at speeds exceeding that of ordinary human beings, but not ridiculously so. I think cheetah speed is what I possess. Whatever kind of speed I got, this woman clearly had more. I chased her for half an hour and couldn't catch her. Through crowded streets, on subway tracks and even down the highway, I simply couldn't catch her. In the end, I gave up and went home.

I can't tell you how I felt that night as I lay on my bed, thinking about the evening's events. I thought about the young woman in that alley, her strength and speed, her grace and beauty. Silently I promised myself that I would find her if it was the last thing I did. For at long last I had confirmation that I wasn't the only one of my kind in the world. Not that I need the company or approval of others, I really don't. I've always been more of a solo act. It's my basic personality. I went to school the next day, and since I didn't have any morning classes, I went to the library to do some research. I wanted to find that young woman again, and I honestly didn't know where to begin. I mean, when I Google the term "super-fast woman in Toronto" stuff about Viagra pills and fitness trainers comes up. See what I mean?

I sat at the computer, pondering this dilemma in the busy university library. Guess who walked by? A tall, gorgeous young woman with dark hair and dark skin. Now, the University of Toronto is the most racially diverse school in all of Canada, so people of various ethnicities are represented among our student body profile. Africans, Hindus, Chinese, Arabs, we've got all kinds around here. No, this particular dark-skinned beauty stood out because she was the spitting image of a certain super-strong and super-fast mama I saw last night. I got up, and walked up to her. Our eyes met, and recognition flashed in hers. Hmmm. She's even better-looking up close, I realized. She's of African descent, but mixed with something else. Gotcha, I said with a smile. She tensed, and I shook my head, casually reminding her that we were in a crowded university library, not a dark alley. It wouldn't be good for either of us if just about anything...extraordinary happened.

Coldly, she nodded, then asked me what I wanted. I smiled with more confidence than I felt, then introduced myself. She looked at my hand for a long time before shaking it. Call me Kyana, she said. I smiled, at once recognizing her accent. Definitely from the States. The South, if I'm not mistaken. Probably Georgia or Louisiana or someplace like that. We need to talk, I said. Kyana glared at me with mistrust in her lovely brown eyes. Let's go get some coffee, I said, and after a brief hesitation, she followed me to the Tim Horton's inside the food court. There we sat, a couple of super-humans, having coffee and bagels inside a crowded lunch room.

I had so many questions for Kyana, but she wasn't too forward with her answers. All she would tell me is that she came from Racine, Wisconsin, and was raised by adoptive parents. What was she doing in Canada? Doing the international student thing at U of T. I sighed, because I had expected more. I wanted her to have the answers about me and her, our similar abilities, and our origins. Well, she told me she got nothing and even though I had no reason to trust her, I believed her. We finished eating, and I wished her the best. Don't want to friends with you, Kyana said grumpily before walking away. I shrugged and smiled. This whole thing could have gone better, I thought. Inside, amazingly, I felt a little less lost. I was no closer to figuring out my origins, but at least now I know there's someone else like me out there. Who knows? There may be many others out there. And I'm absolutely going to find them.