Free The God Particle by Richard Cox

right off the bed and tumbles into a heap on the floor.
    “Oh my God!” Steve screams. Pain blinds him. Deafens him. Scrambled images as the door flies open and nurses and doctors descend upon him. His mother’s quiet, flapping mouth. His father, arms crossed, brow bent.
    Of course, now levitation is no problem. Now he manages to make it back to the bed with no physical exertion whatsoever. Well, here are a couple of orderlies with their arms around him, maybe they’re doing the levitating, maybe they understand what he does not, how to beat the damning power of gravity.
    He tries to push them away, to operate independently; how is he ever supposed to figure this out if they keep treating him like a child?
    Then a prick of pain as he shoots into the void at a silent, extraordinary speed.
    9
    Steve is unable to properly explain himself. His mother is particularly perturbed.
    “You thought you were going to
float
off the bed?”
    Steve isn’t sure anymore what he was thinking.
    “Doctor, what’s wrong with him? Why would he think he could
float
?”
    “Mrs. Keeley, your son’s IV contains a strong painkiller derived from codeine. Hallucinations are a common side effect. And because it blocks inhibitory neurotransmitters, it can have a stimulating effect.”
    “It’s one thing if you get out of bed and do jumping jacks. But to think you could
float
? I don’t understand.”
    Dr. Dobbelfeld sighs. “I just told you, Mrs. Keeley, that—”
    “Are you sure his brain is fixed?” asks his father.
    “The effects of brain injury are unpredictable. Steve may appear well on the outside, but there is no way to tell what sort of impairments he may experience in the future.”
    “So he could hallucinate like this forever?” Betty shrieks.
    “That is difficult to know. But please understand that the first hours after a patient emerges from a coma can be confusing. They can be traumatic. Combine this with possible side effects from his medication, and I do not find his confusion surprising at all.”
    Steve finally thinks of something to say. “If the painkillers are so strong, Doc, why does it hurt so badly to move?”
    “You have been in this bed for several days. Bruising and lack of use have likely tightened your muscles. We will begin your physical therapy soon. I think you will make rapid progress.”
    “But I’m not going to be back in L.A. in three days, am I?”
    “I’m afraid not.”
    “What?” his mother says. “Why do you want to go back home so soon?”
    “I have a job interview, Mom.”
    “Oh, Stevie. They’ll postpone that for you.”
    “I’m sure they will. But in the meantime they’ll be looking for someone else.”
    “Stevie,” she scolds. “You’ll be up and around in no time. Just like the doctor said.”
    “He’ll be fine,” his father adds, “as long as he doesn’t try to fly again.”
    10
    His parents leave the hospital and head back to their hotel, where they think Janine has gone to rest. Steve thinks it’s more likely that Janine has already found her way to the airport. He’s tried to put her out of his mind, to move forward the way he always has from failed relationships, but she keeps popping back with her bright smile and asthmatic laugh. The most effective way to end these nostalgic interludes, Steve has found, is to picture her fucking another man. It’s a matter of perspective, just like with the levitation.
    Even now it doesn’t seem so farfetched. Steve gets the feeling that if he could just regain the perspective he found earlier, if he could just see the world through those eyes again, everything would become clear. That he is on the verge of some great discovery, that what seems like delusion is actually radical innovation.
    And this terrifies him.
    11
    “I’m so glad to hear you’re okay, Steve. Sounds like you’ve made a lot of progress.”
    It’s Jim Mannheim on the phone. It’s the next day.
    “It was a freak thing,” Steve says. “I’m glad