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The Necklace – Part 1

Written by Rick Powers :: [Wednesday, 17 October 2007 13:24] Last updated by :: [Wednesday, 22 May 2013 13:32]

The Necklace – Part 1

 

by Rick Powers (a.k.a. The Power Company)

 

 

Some days, this job really sucks, the man thought to himself as he watched about thirty kids playing softball. His name was Mike Green. He was a substitute teacher putting in his time as a PE coach. It wasn't that he disliked teaching. Actually he was pretty good at it and hoped to find a full time job somewhere soon. Hopefully teaching fourth graders, or even first graders. Anything but junior high. But you go where they need you. And you put up with it.

Today he was standing outside enjoying the fresh spring air and suffering through another period of 9th grade PE. He had been teaching this class for the last four days and he was glad that tomorrow was the last day. It's not that the kids are so bad, individually. But get them together and their hormones go wild.

And the boys, was I this big of a jerk in 9th grade, he wondered? The boys were constantly challenging the girls in softball, or any other sport for that matter. Maybe because it wasn't that long ago that the girls could beat them in sports. But by 9th grade the advantage was definitely towards the boys. These boys are shaving, their bodies developing manly muscles. But since 9th grade is still part of the junior high, they still act like little kids around their female counterparts.

The girls are developing by this time, too. And they love the attention that the boys give them. So they usually agree to play girls against boys in PE. Which usually ends up in a slaughter. And that is no fun for anyone. Especially for the poor sub.

The game was progressing as it had every day that week. The girls could barely get any baserunners while the boys had easily scored about twenty runs. With amazing ease, they knocked the ball over the heads of the girls in the field or took advantage of throwing mistakes as they rounded the bases. The girls, unaccustomed to running with their newly developed breasts and wider hips, seemed to be playing in slow motion. To make matters worse, the boys always made fun of the girls and the way they ran or threw the ball.

Mike constantly looked at his watch hoping the period would end soon and this mockery could stop. It was the last period he had to teach that day and he was beat. He wished these girls could play better, could show these arrogant boys a thing or two. And he wished that some of these girls would show even a little bit of interest in the game. Most of them chatted about classes and boys and dating. Others just sat and stared. And one girl was busily digging in the grass behind the backstop.

“Melinda!” Mike shouted at the digger, “You're up next, let's go!”

The girl rose from the ground and walked casually up to the teacher. She was holding something dirty in her hand. “Hey, mister sub-guy, here,” she handed Mike a small metal object on a thin chain. “I found it buried back there. It might belong to someone.” She squinted up at the teacher through incredibly thick glasses which made her blinking eyes look twice as large as they really were.

“Okay, I'll turn it in at the office after school. Now grab a bat and warm up.” he ordered the girl. Without another thought he slipped the object into the pocket of his shorts.

Melinda grabbed a small bat that fit her hand well and took some practice swings. Just then the girl at bat swung with all her might and knocked the ball slowly back to the pitcher. He scooped it up and laughed as he teased the batter with the ball. Then he stuck out the same foot as his throwing arm, imitating the way the girls were throwing, arched his back, and tossed the ball to first base easily beating the girl.

“Two outs!” Mike shouted. “And knock off the teasing Will, or I'll put you into right field! Okay, next batter!” He shoved his hands into his pockets out of exasperation and started fingering his keys and that metal thing. “I wish each of these girls were as strong as these boys and could play ball like they do,” he whispered to himself, “then we'd take their egos down a notch.”

For what seemed like a minute, but was really just a second, there was a strange silence. It fell over the field and the players like a soft blanket. But as quickly as it came, it was gone. The boys started moving in when they saw who was up. Melinda shook her head and blinked her 'fish eyes' several times. She seemed to be slightly dizzy.

“You okay, Melinda?” Mike yelled.

She feebly waved her hand to let him know that she was alright and then stepped to the plate. Slowly some of the girls looked up from their conversations and moved toward the backstop.

“C'mon Melinda, get a hit,” one encouraged.

“Let's go Melinda, you can do it,” another joined in.

Melinda watched as the first pitch sailed over her head. She had an advatage that not only was she the skinniest girl in class, she was one of the shortest and it took a while for the pitcher to adjust to her height.

“Thata girl, Mel, wait for a good one!” more girls were joining the chorus.

“Good eye! Good eye!”

Mike realized that almost all the girls were now watching Melinda bat. They were taking an interest in the game! He joined the others, “Okay Melinda, just make a connection.”

The second pitch was right in there for a strike but Melinda caught a piece of it and fouled it back. Mike was surprised at the swing. It looked like Melinda was really trying to hit the ball.

The boys in the infield began taunting the small red-haired girl, trying to get her flustered. But her concentration just increased all the more.

The next pitch was again coming in just perfectly when Melinda swung. The sound of the hit echoed through the field. The dumbfounded pitcher could only stare in amazement as the ball streaked over his head out of reach of his outstretched glove.

Melinda, shocked by her hit, stood at home plate watching it sail into the outfield and over the fielder's head as well.

“RUN!!” several girls shouted, trying to animate their team mate.With a hesitation, Melinda dropped the bat and took off for first. The outfielder was still chasing the ball, so the girl coaching first base waved her on to second. By the time Melinda reached the bag, the ball was just coming in to the infield. She held on second, ecstatic for the first double she had ever hit.

“Let's go girls!” shouted one of the normally quiet girls as she picked up a bat, “If Mel can get a hit, so can we!”

She walked confidently to the plate and waited for a pitch in the strike zone, then laced a lined drive over third base advancing Melinda to third while she waited at first.“Way to go, Sherry!” shouted an exuberant Mike. He turned to the others excitedly, “Okay, who's up next?”

The next girl got a good solid hit between first and second which scored Melinda and got Sherry to second. Next was another shot down the middle that almost took the pitcher's hand off. He couldn't react in time as the girls seemed to be running faster and faster with each batter.

Then Gabby came to bat. She was obviously the most athletic girl in the class. Mike had admired the way she swung the bat and run all week long. If only she could get a hit and extend this unbelievable streak of good luck, he thought. He wasn't sure, but as he looked at Gabby's back, it seemed like he could actually see the muscles in her back and shoulders bunch and flex as she prepared to swing. Nervously, and without talking to each other, some of the boys were backing up. All of their boisterous bravado seemed to have faded in the last few minutes.

The first pitch was a little wobbly as the pitcher was still shaken from the last play and fell well in front of the plate. The next pitch was slightly better, almost reaching Gabby's front foot. The pitcher shook out his arm as a couple of boys encouraged him.

The next pitch was perfect. The pitcher knew it. The catcher knew it. And Gabby knew it, too. Muscles that had been tensed in her back and shoulders exploded with power as she twisted her body into the swing. She gripped the bat like a vice as her forearms swelled with the effort. The ball shot off the bat like a bullet and arched higher and higher to the outfield. The unfortunate boy who was covering that area began to race backwards as he realized that the ball was still climbing as it passed his position.

He continued running away from the diamond as fast as his legs could carry him as the girls jubilantly raced around the bases. By the time the outfielder had retrieved the ball, Gabby was crossing home plate with her arms raised in exultation. With whoops and cheers, the girls all gave her 'high fives' and patted her on the butt. Finally the ball rolled into the infield as the stunned boys stared gloomily at the ground.

Mike was stunned by the turn-around in the girls' attitudes and achievements. But just as quickly as it had come, the ecstatic moment passed. The next girl up hit a high foul ball that was pulled in by the first baseman, and the inning was over.

But the girls were out on the field before all the boys could run in. The infielders were scooping up practice grounders and practicing the throw to first. The outfielders were running under impossibly high flies that the others were throwing. The pitcher was zeroing in on the strike zone with deadly accuracy.

They were psyched and ready for the boys.

The first boy up hit a lazy grounder to shortstop, which she easily stopped and threw to first in time to get the runner. Then Zeke came up to bat. He was a big kid and by far the strongest boy in the school. He wasn't about to be shown up by some girls when it came to hitting home runs. The first pitch was right in his favorite area and he blasted it. With arms raised he trotted towards first base. The ball sailed over the outfielder's head and continued to roll for quite a ways. All of the boys were hooting and hollering his praises as he rounded first base. Suddenly the ball came whistling in from the outfield and smacked into the second basesman's glove. Realizing that he might be tagged out, Zeke scrambled back to first as fast as he could, barely reaching it safely before the ball came whizzing over his head into the first baseman's mitt.

Zeke was stunned that the girl could throw that hard and that fast. That should have been an easy homerun. He dusted off his hands and got ready to run to second. He wasn't going to take it easy on these girls anymore, he decided. Now he was going to get rough.

The next boy hit a hard, bouncing ball to third base. Sherry was playing there. She expertly handled the ball and threw a quick pass to Gabby on second, who tagged the base and prepared to throw to first for the double play. But Zeke, realizing that he had no chance of getting to the base before the throw, folded his arms in front of himself and ran straight at Gabby, trying to break up the double play.

As Gabby turned to throw, the large boy barreled into her. But Zeke, all two hundred pounds of him, bounced off the slender girl and sprawled backwards on the ground nearly unconscious from the collision. Gabby, surprised that she was not knocked over, couldn't throw to first in time to get the double play. But her surprise soon boiled into anger at the big kid.

“What the hell do you think you're doing, you big stupid asshole!” Gabby stood over the stunned boy shouting at the top of her lungs, “You could have killed me!”

Zeke, still reeling from his run in with the girl, staggered to his feet just about the time Mike got to the two of them. He initially thought that Gabby was the one who need help. But he was startled to see that she was only shaken up.

“Alright you two. You're both on the bench. You for profanities,” he pointed to the still fuming Gabby, “and you for unsafe behavior,” he said to Zeke as he helped him back the the side of the field.

Gabby threw down the ball and glove and stomped off the field, far away from where Zeke was stretched out.

“Let's go, kids!” Mike shouted, “Class isn't over yet! Next batter!”

One of the other girls moved over to second base and the next boy came to bat. He hit a long fly out to right field where Melinda was playing. It bounced in front of her and she fielded it perfectly. But instead of throwing it in to second base, like she normally would have, she fired it to first, trying to beat the runner.

The ball was a blur as it sped through the air. It found its mark perfectly with a loud whap as it made contact with the leather mitt. The girl playing first didn't even seem to notice how hard the ball had come in. She kept her right foot planted on the base and the runner was out by at least a yard.

“Yer outta there!” Mike yelled as he made signaled the boy out. He couldn't believe the speed and accuracy of Melinda's throw. He couldn't believe how into the game the girls had gotten in just the last few minutes. Their excitement was contagious and he was loving the fact that the girls were finally out-playing the boys.

The entire girls' team whooped and yelled as they ran in to take their turn at bat. The next few minutes passed quickly for the girls and Mr. Green, but they seemed like an eternity to the boys. Every girl that came to the plate either slammed the ball solidly through the infield or smashed it over their heads. The farther the boys backed up, the farther the balls seemed to fly.

As Melinda came to bat, Mike noticed that it was alomst time to head in to the locker rooms. “Last batter,” he called out the delight of the boys and the chagrin of the girls.

Melinda decided to put everything she had into this one. The girls had nearly caught up to the boys but there was no chance of catching them. So Melinda had nothing to lose. Mike was surprised by the amount of power that the small girl put into her swing. The ball shot off the bat and headed toward the outfield. Damn, Mike thought to himself, even Mark McGuire couldn't hit a softball that far!

Even though he was already deeper than he had ever played before, the fielder knew that he wasn't out nearly far enough. He took off running with a vague hope of catching the fly ball, but as it passed over him he slowed to a jog, now just hoping that he could get the ball some time before school ended.

Melinda raced around first base. Then she caught sight of how far she had hit it. She, too, slowed to a jog. Before she reached home half of the boys had deserted the field and headed in, totally dejected. Only the girls were left to cheer on Melinda as she crossed the plate. The girls helped collect the bats, balls, and gloves and walked back to the dressing rooms. Their excited chatter could be heard through the wall in other locker room where the boys dressed quietly, still shocked by the sudden turn around and obvious ease that the girls had displayed as they punched one home run after another.

School ended as the kids poured out of their respective locker rooms. The girls were still flying high, feeling like they ruled the school. The boys, still quiet, stayed to themselves, got their books quickly, and dispersed for home. Mike Green picked up various towels and articles of clothing left behind by the boys, then went into the hallway between the gym and the locker rooms to lock up the equipment closet. After some mundane paperwork, he was ready to head for home himself.

Home for Mike was a tiny one bedroom apartment in a nearby town. He stopped by for a fast food feast at a local drive through. He thought once or twice about going to a local gym where his parents had bought a him a membership after graduation. Mike had worked out some during his college days, but he was no fanatic. He had studied basic fitness and anatomy as part of his teaching preparation, so he knew how to get around a gym or teach a PE class without looking like a complete idiot. He kept his 6'2” body in pretty good shape, although he had been missing a lot of exercise lately. But tonight, he was too tired to move much. He hunkered down for an exciting evening of surfing – channel surfing and net surfing, that is. He crawled into bed sometime in the wee hours of the morning, glad that tomorrow would be his last day as a PE sub.

 

 

Mike arrived early the next day, picked up his keys at the front office and started preparing for another day as 'Coach Green.' He looked through the sketchy lesson plans and went to the equipment closet to check on what was available. While he was standing knee-deep in hulahoops and basketballs, he heard the door close behind him.

“Oh good, I've finally found you, coach,” Melinda calmly said as she finished closing the door.

“Um … it's Melinda, right?” Mike was visibly uncomfortable being cornered by a student, especially a female student. “You're in my last period class, aren't you? I didn't recognize you with out your glasses.” Indeed, she looked quite different without them. In fact she had a very pretty face. “What do you need?”

“I need to show you something and ask you a question,” she replied.

“Per … perhaps we should step outside,” Mike offered as he attempted to walk past her and open the door.

Melinda placed one hand on the door and held it closed despite Mike's tugging, “I don't think so, coach. This will only take a minute, and I want the privacy.”

Mike's face was becoming beet red, not only from the exertion of trying to pry the door open but also from the possibility of being caught in a compromising position with a student. All the same, he redoubled his efforts to open the door.

“Give it up coach, you'll never get past me until I let you,” Melinda still spoke with calm tones as if she were totally in control of the situation. “You don't realize what you're up against, do you? Well here, let me show you.”

With that, Melinda easily pushed Mike away from the door and back to the center of the room. Then she unzipped the extremely baggy jacket that she was wearing and peeled it off so quickly that Mike couldn't stop her. He was about to shout 'NO' and pull her jacket back on, when he was struck silent by what he saw.

Melinda was wearing only a sports bra under her jacket that was presently being stretched to its limit trying to contain the young girl's physique. It was not that her breasts were all that large, although they were nicely sized for a girl her age, it was that every inch of her upper body was covered in thick, rippling muscle. Mike looked in awe as Melinda finished removing her jacket. Even the slightest motion set off a series of bunches and bulges that seemed to flow together into a symphony of sexy power.

Melinda tightened the muscles in one forearm and examined it with a smile, “Pretty cool, huh?” The muscles writhed and danced like steel snakes trying to burst through her soft skin. “And check this out,” she said pointing to her relaxed bicep. She slowly raised her hand causing her bicep to flex larger and larger. Finally when she had her hand all the way up, she squeezed a little bit harder and pushed up a peak on her bicep that only a few bodybuilders have been able to develop.

Mike stood in stunned silence. He had never seen a girl, or woman for that matter, that had the kind of muscularity that this girl was demonstrating. Hell, he had seen only a few men in his lifetime that could compare to her size but not even close to her definition. Every muscle group was clearly etched, from the classic 'six-pack' abs to the clearly delineated twin muscles that give the name to the biceps. Even her obliques were 'cut' in their little shell shapes. The only fat that appeared to be on her was neatly collected within the cottony confines of the bra, and that was recieving an extra push upward by the bulging pecs underneath.

And that coupled with her incredibly wide lats was what was pushing that bra to the tearing point.

“Wh-when did th … I mean … h-how … I mean …” Mike stammered, trying to make sense of what he was looking at.

I don't know how, exactly,” Melinda continued flexing and checking out her muscles as she talked, “but I know when. Last night after school, I felt so good that I practically flew home. I was so hungry I ate everything I could find. I even ate more than my brother at dinner time, and you should see how huge he is! I mean he's gotta be over six feet and weighs a ton. He wrestles in the heavyweight division at the high school.

“Anyway, after dinner and homework, I went down to the basement where Dad's got a home gym set up, and I started lifting stuff and pulling stuff. But it all seemed so easy. Then my big brother came down to work out and tried to boot me out, so I got my Dad. He was glad that I wanted to work out so he goes back down with me to show me how to lift weights. See, he's a coach at the high school, and I guess I've always been kind of a disappointment to him cause I was never interested in sports and stuff like that.

“So we go back down and he and my brother Jeff are helping me. But like I said everything was too easy. And they couldn't believe it, but they kept on adding more and more weight. And suddenly these cool muscles start growing with like every time I lift a weight. Well, real soon, I'm passing up the weights that my brother can lift and he starts getting all defensive and angry and all.

“It was right after I had benched 375 pounds that I stood up and wanted to compare muscle sizes with him, and you know what he does? He gets all red in the face and pushes me so hard that I fall over the bench. Well, then I got really mad and jumped at him, only I knocked him flat on his butt. He tried really hard to get me off of him, even tried some dirty stuff like punching me, but I was feeling so strong. I practically manhandled him and in no time I had him pinned and begging for mercy. Lucky for him, Dad broke us up and sent us to our rooms.

“So I went there, but I was too excited to sleep. After a while I snuck back down to the basement, cause like I said, everything seemed so light, I wanted to see what I could really do. Pretty soon I was putting all the weights that could fit on the bars and I was still lifting it. And my muscles just kept right on growing too. I finally maxed out on most of the lifts around two this morning, but I still haven't come close to seeing how much I can lift with my legs. All the weights we had only added up to 1100 pounds.”

Mike was still agog from watching the mighty girl flexing her huge muscles when she mentioned her legs. A part of him wished that she would drop her baggy sweatpants so he could ogle her pillars of power as well. But he shook himself out of that fantasy. “So … so what do you want from me? I mean … why are you telling me all this?”

“You see, coach,” Melinda resumed her calm tone as she casually picked up an aluminium softball bat, “while I was laying on my bed, I was trying to figure out what was happening. I mean, I've never had a muscle in my body that was visible before yesterday, and now I look like some superhero cartoon or something. And I've got the strength to back it up.” She held the bat behind her neck and across her shoulders, accentuating her magnificent arms. “I was trying to think if anything happened that could explain these changes. Then I remembered that weird little necklace I found in PE class that I gave to you. And then I remembered what you said as I walked past you. Do you remember what you said?”

Mike thought back, frantically trying to remember what was said. But as you know, we all say so many things in the course of a day that we deem unimportant, that it's hard to remember every little comment.

“Well let me help you. It struck me odd at the time, and I guess that's why I remembered it. You said that you wished that each of us girls were as strong as the boys and that we could play ball as good as they could. And it was just about then that things started getting weird. Like we started hitting the ball farther than anyone had ever hit it. And like when Zeke ran into Gabby and bounced off her like she was made of steel or something. And how all of a sudden we were so good at softball and all. And then what happened in my basement last night, and my sudden and equally cool muscle growth, and it all makes sense, even though it's a crazy kind of sense, but the thing is that I think that thingy I found and gave you has some kind of magical powers or something. I mean how can you explain this?”

With that she flexed the muscles in her chest and arms, pushing against the bat that was still held across her beefy shoulders. Every muscle in her upper body swelled with the exertion of bone and muscle against aluminum. Her traps rose like twin steely anvils, resisting the metal. Slowly the bat began to lose the fight as Melinda's arms overpowered the thick metal. Her arms and chest were shaking from the strain she was applying, but she kept it up until she had re-shaped the bat into a sickle. She took the bat off of her shoulders and examined it.

“Now all I want from you, Coach Green,” she said, regaining her composure and pointing the bat at the frightened man, “is my magic necklace back. I mean, I love your wish and all, but I've got a few of my own that I want to wish. So we can do this the easy way,” she reached out her other hand towards him, “or the hard way,” she lifted the bat as a obvious sample of what she was capable of doing to him if he resisted.

Mike held his hands out in a defensive gesture, “I … I don't … I don't have it anymore … I turned it in to the office yesterday … in … in the lost and found box. Please,” he pleaded, nearly crying, “please don't … don't hurt me!”

“Hmmmm … I don't know if I should believe you or not,” Melinda said as she swung the bat under Mike's face. “Tell you what, you stay right here until I can check it out. And give me your keys,” she commanded as she theateningly pushed the bent bat against his chest.

“My … my keys?”

“Just as an insurance policy, coach.” Mike fumbled in his pockets for his keys, finally producing them. He shakily handed them over to his intimidating student.

“Now you just wait here and I'll be right back. I'm sure you can,” she gently brushed the end of the bat against Mike's raging and quite obvious hard-on, “entertain yourself while I'm gone.” With that she pushed the bat back into the bat box and slipped her jacket over her still pumped-up upper body. Then she slid noiselessly out of the door.

Mike heard the door being locked and Melinda's footsteps disappearing down the hall. Quickly he reached back into his pocket and pulled out the necklace that Melinda had found. He looked at it, knowing he need to try to use it again, but not sure of what he wanted to wish for. His thoughts were clouded by the image of Melinda's fantastic muscularity and the prospect of all of the girls in that class being just as strong and developed as she was.

He had to admit that it turned him on to think of muscular women, although he had never given it much thought before. He felt a sort of raw sexual power emanating from the girl as she had shown him her body. He struggled to clear his mind and focus his thoughts on his next wish.

Mike's hands began to shake in fear and anticipation. She would be returning soon, and probably pissed off that he had lied to her. Suddenly the necklace slipped out of his hands, landing in the pile of hula-hoops and jump ropes that he was still standing in. He dropped to his knees, frantically searching for the necklace, hoping that he wouldn't be too late.

Meanwhile, Melinda had reached the front office and was searching for the lost and found box. She stood in front of the counter that separated the outer office from the inner office.

“Excuse me, Ms. Webb?”

The secretary looked up from her desk, “Good morning, Melinda, what can I do for you today?”

“Umm … I lost a … a necklace yesterday? In PE? And Mr. Green, the sub? He said that he put it in the lost and found and I was wondering if it would be okay to look through the stuff cause it's one of my favorite necklaces.”

“Well, sure, sweety, come on around,” the kindly secretary instructed, “We've got one box under the counter there and another in the copy room back there.”

It was all Melinda could do to not tear the box apart looking for her magic object. But she forced herself to calmly look through the stuff in the box. “Hmmm … it's not in here, I'll try the other room.”

“I hope you find it, sweatheart,” Ms. Webb said absently as she went focused her attention back to her computer screen.

As Melinda walked down the long hall to the copy room, she bumped into Gabby headed the same way with a stack of papers to copy. She grabbed the girl by the arm and pulled her into the copy room.

“What's going on, Mel? What's the rush?” a surprised Gabby asked as Melinda shut the door behind them.

“How are you feeling today? I mean how are you really feeling?”

“Okay, I guess,” was Gabby's dumbfounded answer.

“Just, okay?”

“Yeah, well maybe pretty good actually,” Gabby admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “Listen, I've got to get this stuff copied for Mejeski's class …”

“Wait!” Melinda commanded as she unzipped her jacket, “Something weird happened to me yesterday.” She let the jacket fall, exposing her thick, bulging muscles.

“Oh god!” Gabby nearly dropped her stack of papers as she saw her friend's outrageous body, “Wha …? How …?”

“I don't know, but I got a hunch that it happened to you too, and every girl in PE class.” Melinda slid her jacket on once more over her big shoulders.

Gabby looked down at her toned, but relatively skinny arms, “I .. I don't think so, Mel …”

“No, not the body, the strength! Have you noticed that things don't feel heavy today?”

“Not … not really,” the stunned girl knitted her eyebrows in thought, “I mean, I don't think I tried to lift anything that was particularly heavy, at least nothing heavier than my backpack, and come to think of it, it did seem lighter than usual.”

“Try to lift the copy machine,” Melinda ordered her.

“What? You can't be serious!”

“Really, here put these papers down,” Melinda took the stack of papers from her friend, “and lift it.”

Gabby couldn't believe what Melinda was doing, “Okay, okay, I'll humor you.” She placed her hands on either side of the large machine and found something to hold onto. “But I think that you're …” with little effort, she straightened up with the machine held firmly in her hands and several inches above the floor, “ … cra …zy ..?” Astounded by how light the copier felt, she raised it even higher. It felt to her like she was lifting nothing heavier than an empty cardboard box. She set it down quickly and stepped back, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” She turned to her smiling friend, “Did I just do that?”

“You sure did, girlfriend. That's what I was telling you about. Some kind of magic happened yesterday. Remember when Zeke bounced off of you like he was hitting a brick wall, and we were smacking homers like we were pro playeres? It happened then. And it was just after I heard the coach wishing that we were stronger than the boys. And that was just after I gave him a strange little necklace that I found buried in the grass. And that's why I'm in here. Cause he said he put that thingy in the lost and found. Help me look for it.” She quickly turned her attention back to her search and started rummaging through the boxes stacked in the room.

Gabby quickly got over the shock of discovering that she was stronger than any guy in the school, possibly any guy anywhere, and aided her friend in her quest. After several frustrating minutes, they had gone through every box in the room.

“Damn!! He must have been lying to me!” Melinda realized.

“C'mon Gabby!” She grabbed the girl and nearly flew down the hall with her. She was headed back to the gym closet where she had left her captive coach, hoping that she wouldn't be too late.

Mike had just spotted a glint of tarnished metal amongst the jump ropes when he heard the sound of footseps running down the hall. “Oh man, oh man, oh man!” He had just retrieved the wayward necklace when he heard Melinda fumbling with the keys. No time to get this perfect, he thought to himself, just try it! He stood up and whispered to himself, “I wish … I wish that I was twice as strong as Melinda is right now and … and …” He hesitated thinking of how cool it was that the girls could hold their own against the boys. He didn't want them to return to their former strength level, but being this as strong as they were now would work either, “… and that all of the girls in my PE class would only be as strong as … as … Zeke Smith! And … and I wish that I was the only one at this school who knew about this magic necklace!”

He finished his wishes just as he heard the key turning the lock. A strange hush fell over the room as everything seemed to go in slow motion for a second. Melinda was just about to open the door, when she felt a rush of energy leaving her, like the end of a fast elevator ride. She held onto the door handle for support as she felt the strange sensation wash over her. Gabby, too, was feeling it.

As Melinda swung the door open she was greeted by a flying button that bounced off the wall near her head. She looked in the direction that it came from and was shocked to see Coach Green smiling back at her. But he didn't look like the scared man that she had left in the room minutes ago. As a matter of fact, she couldn't remember why she had come back to the room or why he was scared the last time she had seen him.

The button that had flown past her had popped off his shirt, the shirt that just this morning had fit so loosely and comfortably. Now it was stretched tightly across unbelievably huge muscles. His thick arms completely filled the sleeves and threatened to rip them open. His thighs bulged out of skin-tight shorts, showing a size and definition that most men would envy and only a few bodybuilders can attain. Melinda didn't remember him looking so muscular – so (she couldn't believe she was thinking this) sexy!

He moved incredibly quickly toward the stunned girls, and smoothly removed the keys from the lock, “Melinda, Gabby, can I help you?”

His voice was deeper than Melinda had remembered it. Even his voice was sexy! “Ummm … no … I don't think so … I mean, I thought I needed to talk to you about something, but I can't seem to remember what it was now.”

“Oh,” Gabby said as she suddenly remembered something, “I'm supposed to be copying some stuff for Mr. Mejeski!” She ran off down the “hall toward the office.

“Are you okay, Melinda?” Mike asked the befuddled girl.

“Yeah … I guess … I just … wasn't I just in here talking to you, coach?”

“Yeah, sure,” Mike tried to look like he was busy grabbing some baskets of balls, “you told me about how you didn't need your glasses. Hey, have you been working out, you look pretty buff there, young lady.”

“Yeah … yeah … oh yeah, that's what I came to tell you. I must be going through some kind of weird growth spurt, cause I was lifting weights with my dad last night and I couldn't believe how fast my muscles were growing, is that possible, Mr Green?”

“Sure, Melinda, sometimes muscles just seem to pop up out of nowhere, especially when you're young,” Mike replied. “Well, listen, you better get to class, and I've got to get ready for my classes.”

“Yeah, thanks, see ya later, coach!” Melinda backed slowly out of the room, having a hard time tearing her eyes off her awesome looking coach and looking forward to the last period of the day.

Mike smiled as he picked up the bent softball bat. Placing it across his stomach, he slowly straightened it out until it was nearly back to its original shape. He replaced the bat in the box and then easily lifted that box and the other equipment he needed for classes that day and strode down the hall toward the boys locker room. He enjoyed getting some attention from the girls as he walked past them, even a low whistle from a small clutch of older girls.

But actually, Mike Green was a modest man. The extra attention was nice, but rather embarrassing. When he got to his office in the boys locker room, he searched around for some larger shorts or sweatpants. He found a pair of warm-ups that someone on the football team had left behind that fit him well. Now if he could just concentrate enough during the day and not flex his arms, even though he was dying to know how big they were now.

The rest of the day went without incident, although it seemed that all of the girls that were in his classes were by far stronger than the majority of the boys. They seemed to hit the ball harder and throw farther than any of the boys. This led to very unequal teams for most of the day. The disparity of strength levels was especially noticable with the seventh graders. About lunch time, Mike suddenly realized that he had actually wished that all of the girls in his classes, not just the ones in last period, had the strength of Zeke. Now he had 13 year old girls walking around with the strength of a young man.

During his lunch hour, Mike retreated to his office. He took out the necklace and examined it. It had a small, dull colored stone set in the middle, but other than that there was nothing special about it. “Dang,” Mike mumbled to himself as he looked at the trinket, “I wish I knew more about this magic thingy.”

Suddenly the entire world got quiet, or so it seemed to Mike. He sat on his chair behind his desk, staring at the wall in front of him. But his mind was not seeing what his eyes were looking at.

In Mike's mind a scene was being played out inside of a castle with people dressed in medieval clothes. A woman on her knees was clutching a chain and necklace while desperately chanting words. It was the same necklace that Mike held in his hands. Suddenly a large man ran her through with his sword and she fell dead on top of the necklace. Mike could see as the woman's last breath left her body and swirled into the jewel in the middle of the necklace, mixed with her blood. The scene changed swiftly and he saw a peasant girl in what looked like the 1700's wearing the necklace. She was crying in the woods and wishing she was home. Then suddenly she was outside her cottage. Then he saw a woman dressed as a dancer in the American West. She also had the necklace, and as she wished she were rich enough to buy a piece of land, she turned a corner and found a bag full of g … Pold nuggets.

Then there was a young woman sitting on a stool at a drug store in the 1950's, playing with the same necklace and chain and wishing she were a famous movie star. Mike saw her being approached by a man that was offering her a chance for a film role. Mike realized that all of these women had unknowingly used the magic of the charm. But more importantly, its purpose seemed to be to help specifically women. He had seen no men using it. Until today.

And one more thing he realized. Every drop of blood that was spilled onto the jewel was another wish granted. And that through all of the centuries of magic, there was only one wish left. It was his wish to wish. And he knew he better not blow it.

 

To be continued.

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