A pair of grey eyes opened and a toned body rolled off the mattress on the floor and immediately started the daily hundred pushups. When the man finished, he flipped onto his back and began a hundred sit ups, followed by two hundred squats and forty seven chin ups with the aid of the door frame.
The man with grey eyes gazed over himself in the mirror, sweat flowing off him in a veritable river. He rather fancied himself to be a heroic crusader, a man hell bent on ridding this earth from the scourge which plagued it, fated to travel alone till the end of his days, the silent protector of humanity.
The stranger strapped on his vest and belt and left the near closet sized room he had spent the night in, a smile on his face. Yes today would be a good day.
***
The next two days were fairly mundane and boring compared to the first day Zoey and I spent together. Zoey spent a large majority of the time going through her personals and deciding what to pack, burying valuables in the back garden, packing and repacking several suitcases, replanting household plants and a hundred other things that you do to put a house in order.
I, on the other hand, spent two days going through Zoey's neighbors' houses trying to find little odds or ends that could potentially be useful in the upcoming voyage. I managed to scrounge quite a few valuable things from the small neighborhood, the most useful of which would probably be the small trailer sitting in an abandoned garage. The trailer effectively meant that we could increase our carrying capacity two fold, vital since the veritable small-tank was chock-a-block full. I also managed to find a large foot pump, a couple of jerry cans, several long lengths of rubber tubing, a plethora of medical supplies to top up my existing stash, zip cords, a few technical manuals, steal ball bearings, a hand saw, a small camp stove and a pair of walkie-talkies.
Late on the second day, just as Zoey was zipping up the last of her suitcases, I strode triumphantly through the front door holding my latest project above my head victoriously.
"Edison invented the light bulb. Bell invented the telephone. Babbage invented the computer. Euclid invented Geometry. But I, I invented this!" I proclaimed, heaving my prize up high and beaming with pride.
"Well actually Meucci invented the telephone; Davy invented the first light bulb, Edison only improved upon it; it can be argued that since Babbage's computer was mechanical not electronic that it doesn't really count; geometry was used as far back as the 2nd millennium BC; and you seem to be claiming to have invented the foot pump,"
"Spoil sport,"
"Uneducated buffoon,"
"Know it all,"
"Is it my fault if I happen to be literate? Now do you mind telling my why you're so proud over a common foot pump so I can go back to packing?"
"You my dear," I addressed her as pompously as possible, "do take all the fun out of life. If you follow me to the back garden, I will endeavor to demonstrate why this foot pump is anything but common!" and with that I strode haughtily into the back yard to show exactly why I was a genius! During the half minute it took for Zoey to follow me, I had already set up my experiment.
"Okay, so what miracle am I supposed to be witnessing" Zoey asked dubiously, examining the set up. The foot pump had two hoses running from it, instead of the usual one; one of the hoses, the one which had not originally come with the device, was lying in the bucket of water we used for washing up, whilst the second hose was dangling freely into an empty bucket.
"To the uneducated eye," I began, feeling like a cross between a magician and Q, "this may appear to be an average foot pump,"
"No it appears to be a foot pump which has been modified to-"
"Would you just... okay? I mean... come on!"
"Fine fine," she relented, "please continue your presentation,"
"As I was saying, to the untrained eye this may look just like a normal foot pump. But if you examine it closely you will notice that several additions have been made, namely this hose here," I tapped the hose that was trailing in the bucket of water.
"Will you get on with it?" I shot her a withering look but did none the less speed up the presentation.
"If madam would please watch the second hose?" I requested, indicating the empty bucket as I began to pump up and down the handle, my feet on the stabilizing plinth at the bottom of the pump. I watched the empty bucket expectantly and saw... nothing.
"Ooh impressive," okay yes I deserved that, but did she have to rub it in?
"Damn, I really thought this would work," I continued to pump the handle a few times just in case. Suddenly the pressure skyrocketed and I had to use all my strength to depress the plunger. As I slowly forced the handle down, a trickle or water shot from the second hose, spitting audibly into the empty tin bucket.
