Thursday, October 1, 2009
Grimaulkin raised his hands over his head, ignoring the dark sparks that erupted from his fingertips. He closed his grey eyes, focusing on keeping a woman’s image in his mind. The same woman was on a photograph at his feet. A black candle dripped methodically onto the picture. In his mind’s eye, he deconstructed the woman, making her lose her hair, then her eyesight, stooping her over, advancing her age.
He opened his eyes and looked down at the picture. The woman in the picture was now yellow, old, bent over with a look of pain. Grim took the picture from under the candle and held it over the flame. It went up in an instant.
Grim smiled, satisfied. He took the ancient dagger from the floor, and slashed over the circle drawn into the wood. Immediately he was assaulted by the heat of the summer, waiting for a cooling breeze from the sea at Nerva. He crossed the large studio and picked up a cell phone.
He dialed, glancing around the room. He focused on the door as it opened.
“Hello,” Grim said into the phone, and smiled and nodded at the person entering, “Mr. Caplin. Yes. Your ex-wife should be dead within two weeks. Yes, sir, very painful. No, sir, she won’t look like she did. Um hm. Yes. My methods are my own.”
The person who entered waited patiently, going over to Grim’s desk and looking at some of the flasks.
“I don’t think you need to know that. Just make sure that the money is in hand in two weeks. Of course. Pleasure. Good bye.” He flipped the phone closed and looked up at the red-haired man. “Of course, if he fails, he faces a worse fate than the one he paid me for.”
The man turned beautiful green eyes to Grim and grinned at him. “I was here earlier. Didn’t want to disturb you.”
“That’s okay. I can multi task.”
The man chuckled, kissed Grim’s forehead. “Not with magic.”
“Or other things,” Grim commented, patting the man’s rear.
“Hm. Don’t get me started. What were you planning on doing today?”
Grim sighed. “I’m still practicing on my offensive magic. But something’s blocking me here.”
“In the house? I felt no spirits.”
“No, in Nerva.” He walked over to the desk. “It’s like there’s not enough power here.”
“There are a lot of magic users here. There’s Thorns just to the north. They steal magic where ever they can get it.”
“That’s what it feels like. Like there’s a river and too many people are siphoning from it. It feels dry, weak.” Grim held open his hand, and a small awkward-looking sphere appeared in it. “I can’t even hold a form.”
The man leaned back against the desk. “Then maybe we need to go somewhere else.”
“I’m not going to Cap au Diable, too crowded. And Port Oakes is full of untrained wanna-be’s running around.” Grim started ticking off on his fingers. “Sharkhead is sterile, Grandville is possessed by Recluse and his cronies, and St. Martial is full of too much emotion to wade through. Where else can we go?”
The man smiled. “Paragon City.”
“Paragon?”
“How many powerful dark mages are there? They don’t touch dark magic because it’s not” He made air quotes, “’pretty’.”
“Hmph, but using magic to save people. Been there, did that, got the lectures.”
“You also got me.”
“Well, yeah, that was a bonus.”
The man moved away from the desk and went over to a book case. “You know, Paragon isn’t all that beautiful on the inside. Underneath all the pretty parks and heroes in spandex…” He gave Grim a suggestive wink, “is a lot of corruption and decay. Not all heroes are perfect. They all need someone to knock them down a few pegs, and what better way to do it than from the inside?”
Grim stroked his goatee, as he did when he was thinking. “You might be right, Dysio. Paragon needs to know how imperfect it really is.”
“Mmhm. And besides, they have bigger buildings.”
“True.”
“I kinda miss Steel Canyon. And the university. And all those football players.”
“Did you do them all?” Grim asked slyly.
“Even the coaches.”
“Nice…” Grim came up behind him. “Were they tasty?”
“Not as good as you,” Dysio replied, and embraced him. “So what do you think? Go back to Paragon?”
“I think I might. I’ve made a name for myself here, but I think they’re catching on to me.”
“That’s the problem with dark magic, it leaves residue no matter what you do.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help with that.”
“But you’ve given me spells and abilities that these stupid Thorns can’t even fathom. They can’t trace some of the work I’ve done. They know it’s dark magic, but they don’t know it’s me, and that’s a plus.”
“But they know you’re a dark mage. You’ve made no secret about that.”
Grim glared. “I won’t make a secret about that, nor will I make a secret about my choice in sex partners.”
Dysio knew he pressed a soft spot with Grim’s pride. He liked to see Grim mad sometimes. It brought a new dimension to their coupling. Dysio bent down and kissed Grim gently on the lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Hm.” Grim couldn’t stay mad for long, especially in the arms of his lover. He rested against Dysio’s broad chest, silver chains scratching his cheek. “Maybe I will go back.”
“Good,” Dysio said with a wicked smile. “Very, very good.”
He opened his eyes and looked down at the picture. The woman in the picture was now yellow, old, bent over with a look of pain. Grim took the picture from under the candle and held it over the flame. It went up in an instant.
Grim smiled, satisfied. He took the ancient dagger from the floor, and slashed over the circle drawn into the wood. Immediately he was assaulted by the heat of the summer, waiting for a cooling breeze from the sea at Nerva. He crossed the large studio and picked up a cell phone.
He dialed, glancing around the room. He focused on the door as it opened.
“Hello,” Grim said into the phone, and smiled and nodded at the person entering, “Mr. Caplin. Yes. Your ex-wife should be dead within two weeks. Yes, sir, very painful. No, sir, she won’t look like she did. Um hm. Yes. My methods are my own.”
The person who entered waited patiently, going over to Grim’s desk and looking at some of the flasks.
“I don’t think you need to know that. Just make sure that the money is in hand in two weeks. Of course. Pleasure. Good bye.” He flipped the phone closed and looked up at the red-haired man. “Of course, if he fails, he faces a worse fate than the one he paid me for.”
The man turned beautiful green eyes to Grim and grinned at him. “I was here earlier. Didn’t want to disturb you.”
“That’s okay. I can multi task.”
The man chuckled, kissed Grim’s forehead. “Not with magic.”
“Or other things,” Grim commented, patting the man’s rear.
“Hm. Don’t get me started. What were you planning on doing today?”
Grim sighed. “I’m still practicing on my offensive magic. But something’s blocking me here.”
“In the house? I felt no spirits.”
“No, in Nerva.” He walked over to the desk. “It’s like there’s not enough power here.”
“There are a lot of magic users here. There’s Thorns just to the north. They steal magic where ever they can get it.”
“That’s what it feels like. Like there’s a river and too many people are siphoning from it. It feels dry, weak.” Grim held open his hand, and a small awkward-looking sphere appeared in it. “I can’t even hold a form.”
The man leaned back against the desk. “Then maybe we need to go somewhere else.”
“I’m not going to Cap au Diable, too crowded. And Port Oakes is full of untrained wanna-be’s running around.” Grim started ticking off on his fingers. “Sharkhead is sterile, Grandville is possessed by Recluse and his cronies, and St. Martial is full of too much emotion to wade through. Where else can we go?”
The man smiled. “Paragon City.”
“Paragon?”
“How many powerful dark mages are there? They don’t touch dark magic because it’s not” He made air quotes, “’pretty’.”
“Hmph, but using magic to save people. Been there, did that, got the lectures.”
“You also got me.”
“Well, yeah, that was a bonus.”
The man moved away from the desk and went over to a book case. “You know, Paragon isn’t all that beautiful on the inside. Underneath all the pretty parks and heroes in spandex…” He gave Grim a suggestive wink, “is a lot of corruption and decay. Not all heroes are perfect. They all need someone to knock them down a few pegs, and what better way to do it than from the inside?”
Grim stroked his goatee, as he did when he was thinking. “You might be right, Dysio. Paragon needs to know how imperfect it really is.”
“Mmhm. And besides, they have bigger buildings.”
“True.”
“I kinda miss Steel Canyon. And the university. And all those football players.”
“Did you do them all?” Grim asked slyly.
“Even the coaches.”
“Nice…” Grim came up behind him. “Were they tasty?”
“Not as good as you,” Dysio replied, and embraced him. “So what do you think? Go back to Paragon?”
“I think I might. I’ve made a name for myself here, but I think they’re catching on to me.”
“That’s the problem with dark magic, it leaves residue no matter what you do.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help with that.”
“But you’ve given me spells and abilities that these stupid Thorns can’t even fathom. They can’t trace some of the work I’ve done. They know it’s dark magic, but they don’t know it’s me, and that’s a plus.”
“But they know you’re a dark mage. You’ve made no secret about that.”
Grim glared. “I won’t make a secret about that, nor will I make a secret about my choice in sex partners.”
Dysio knew he pressed a soft spot with Grim’s pride. He liked to see Grim mad sometimes. It brought a new dimension to their coupling. Dysio bent down and kissed Grim gently on the lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Hm.” Grim couldn’t stay mad for long, especially in the arms of his lover. He rested against Dysio’s broad chest, silver chains scratching his cheek. “Maybe I will go back.”
“Good,” Dysio said with a wicked smile. “Very, very good.”
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
He ran. That was the only thing he knew how to do, and he couldn’t even do that well.
He glanced behind him for half a second. They were still on him, screaming like banshees. He whipped around a corner into an alleyway. He tried to jump over a bag of trash but tripped over it, and fell on his shoulder, skidding a good ten feet on the concrete. He struggled up, but felt someone grab him by the back of his backpack and pick him up, and throw him into the fence.
He stared into the maniacal eyes of Joey Tebow, captain of the local track team, baseball team, and all around jock.
“You can’t run,” he said, grinning. His posse behind him were all laughing and grinning at him.
Joey raised a hand to punch him, and someone yelled, “HEY!”
The group turned to the entrance to the alley. A man in a black biker jacket stood there, glaring at the group.
“Leave that kid alone,” he said, advancing into the alley.
When Joey was in this kind of a mood, he was insolent and uncaring. “What’re you gonna do about it, old man? You can’t touch us, we’re kids.”
The man gave him a cold smile. “Hm, you know, that’s right.” He casually lifted a hand and slowly opened his fingers wide.
Joey’s eyes went wide, and he dropped the boy. The rest of the group stared at something in the air, and then the man made a pushing motion. The boys screamed and ran down the other end of the alley.
The man nodded, turned his attention to the boy. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah,” he said, standing up and rubbing his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Sure. This happen to you a lot?”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
The man’s gaze softened. “You should do something about it.”
He humphed. “Too fat to take karate, too much of a klutz.”
The man smiled, this was a lot warmer than the one he gave Joey. “I know that feeling. By the way, my name’s Nathan.”
“Rob.” He took the offered hand.
“I think I should walk you home to make sure they don’t change their minds and come after you.”
“Eh, well, okay.”
They walked for a little while in silence, and then Nathan said, “You know, I was in your shoes once.”
“Really?” Rob looked over the handsome man. He looked very strong and not that easy to push around.
“Got beat up every night after school for four years. Same kids. I still remember their names.”
“What did you do? Did you tell anybody?”
“Heh, like anyone believed me.” He fell silent, glanced in his direction. “Nobody wanted to help a fat nerd.”
“Oh,” Rob looked down at the sidewalk as they walked.
“So that’s why I want to help you.”
“Me?” He stopped. He was only a block away from his house.
“Sure.” Nathan stopped with him. “One of the things you need to learn is how to defend yourself, and I can help you with that.”
“I’m too fat.”
“We can take care of that.”
“I have asthma.”
“We can take care of that, too.”
“I don’t know.”
He made an encompassing motion. “I’m not going to be around all the time to save your ass. I can help you. If you don’t want to take the help, then you’re going to grow up to be a bitter, angry man.”
“I’ll think about it, okay? Will you be around tomorrow?”
“I’ll make a point of it if you want.”
If he could get this guy to walk him home all the time, it would be well worth it. “Yeah, okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He started to walk away.
“Hey, Nathan, what did you do to them to make them run away?”
He turned around and had a slightly sad look on his face. “I showed them things nobody should ever see.”
“They did it again?”
He looked up at his mother. “Yeah.”
“What do you do to get them mad at you?”
“I don’t know, mom.” Breathe?
“You must be doing something. Want an éclair?”
“Sure.”
He sat at the kitchen table and munched on his éclair. His sister came downstairs, Tara the toothpick.
“Eating again?” He always seemed to be eating when she came around. Tara made a disgusted noise and walked out of the kitchen, grabbing her uniform for Drenched Donuts down the street. His mother sighed and started pulling out supper.
After a hearty chicken parmesan with tons of macaroni and cheese, he went upstairs and flicked on his computer. His shoulder was still sore, but it hadn’t been scraped as badly as he thought. He had no real friends, nobody he could even email or IM. He played a few shoot-em-up games, and shut it off half an hour before he had to go bed.
He went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror. He had brown eyes, brown hair, was fat and unremarkable. He didn’t know what caused the posse to come after him night after night. Maybe he was smarter than they were, maybe he did have something they didn’t.
Rob took out his scrapbook of heroes he adored. Tons of heroes he had read about, and almost all their escapades…he had been lax in his collection, so his scrapbook was about a year old. Some of the heroes in it had retired, disappeared, or died. Sometimes, when he looked at it, he wished he could be a hero, too.
Nobody wants a fat kid, he said to himself, as he got ready for bed.
The next day, Joey accosted him in the hall. “We didn’t get a chance to finish our little talk,” he said to Rob, as he grinned with the same maniacal look he had the day before. “We’ll be waiting.”
Rob bolted out of the school and started running. He didn’t know where he’d meet Nathan, if at all –
He ran into what seemed like a soft brick wall. “Hey,” said Nathan, “what’s the rush?”
“They’re after—“
“Like I said, I’m not going to be around all the time. Time to start your training.”
“Training?”
“If you can’t fight, run. If you can’t run, hide.”
Rob looked around frantically.
“Stop. Calm down. Look at your environment. You’re small enough to hide here – “ he motioned to a small alcove behind him. “If you’re desperate, you can hide in that dumpster over there.”
“In the dumpster?!”
“Trust me, nobody looks there.”
“And how long am I supposed to stay there?”
“You’ll know. You might be wrong at first, but you’ll learn.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Personally, I’d rather stand and fight.”
“You can do that.”
“Like I said, I didn’t always. C’mon, I’ll teach you basic brawling techniques. I don’t know judo or akido or anything like that…though I can ask someone I know.”
In the park two blocks from his house, Nathan taught him basic punching and blocking moves. Nathan was an encouraging teacher, helping Rob perfect his form and strength. Nathan often stood still while Rob punched at him. Then one morning, about three weeks later, he pulled on his pants and they fell off. He hadn’t realized he was tightening his belt throughout his time with Nathan.
Nathan was usually at the school to get him, but this afternoon he wasn’t there. This wasn’t like him. Rob walked home, and when he got home, he realized he hadn’t been ambushed. He went upstairs to his room, skipping his mother’s brownies, and practiced the moves Nathan taught him.
Nathan returned a few days later. He looked tired. “I had some business to take care of,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should have a way to contact you.”
“You can leave a message with my mom.”
“Got a phone number?”
“She doesn’t like phone calls. You can go to our house.” He had known this guy for a month. If he was a pervert, he would have come on to him by now. “C’mon, I’ll bring you over.”
Rob brought him over to the house. Nathan stayed at the foot of the townhouse and looked up the stairs. “You can meet my mom.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow and mounted the steps. “Where’s your dad?”
“They’re divorced.”
“Ah.” He followed Rob to the door. Rob announced himself, and his mother came into the hallway.
She looked up and up at the tall, handsome man and just stared at him. She didn’t hear Rob talking to her, so smitten she was by him. She did manage to catch his name.
“Oh, so nice to meet you –“ His hand was huge around hers. “Would you like some cookies?”
“No thank you, ma’am.”
She blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh, call me Annie.”
“All right.” He smiled, and she wanted to melt.
“C’mon up to my room,” Rob said excitedly. This was the first time he had invited a friend to his house, and he wanted to show him everything. Nathan followed him up the stairs to his room.
Nathan entered the small room and looked around, his smile growing. “Reminds me of my room when I was your age.” Nathan walked around a little and saw the scrapbook on his desk. “You like heroes?”
“Yeah, I used to read a lot about them. But there’s so many of them now, it’s hard to keep up.”
“Yeah, I know.” Nathan opened the scrap book and paged through it. “I remember some of these.”
“It’s a little out of date.”
Nathan stopped paging, and looked down at one of the pictures. It was a white-haired man, bathed in white light. Rob came and looked around Nathan’s elbow to see who he was looking at. “Oh, that’s Masonry. He died last year.”
Nathan swallowed and set the book down. He looked at the book, took a deep breath and glanced around the room again. Rob started showing him other things that he owned, and Nathan made non committal noises over them.
“Rob, dinner!”
Nathan put a hand on the door. “Guess I’d better be going.”
“No, maybe she’s made enough for you, too.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose –“
“It’s okay, really! Mom, mom, can Nathan stay?”
“Well, uh –“
Nathan put his hands up. “Really, I can go—“
But Rob was already pulling Nathan by his jacket into the kitchen. Rob looked at all the food piled on his plate. “I don’t need all that.” He got another plate, and he poured some of the shepherd’s pie into it. “Here, you can have some of mine.”
“I don’t want to be accused of taking food out of your mouth,” Nathan said, looking at the setting at the table.
“It’s okay. Time for me to go on a diet, anyways.”
“Okay, then.” Nathan shrugged out of his jacket. He wore short sleeves, and his arms were huge, muscular and built. Rob’s mother sat across from him, and they all ate, Rob chattering constantly. When dinner was done, he got up and went to the bathroom.
Annie smiled at Nathan. “I’ve never seen him so excited.”
“That’s good. He’s a good kid.”
She nodded. “I just wish he’d stop bothering the boys at school. They keep beating him up.”
“I doubt he’s bothering them. Sometimes bullies don’t need a reason.”
Anne shook her head. “I don’t understand. He gets good grades. They still beat him up.”
Nathan looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something, snapped it shut. He glanced at the clock. “I really have to go.”
Rob came back into the room, and Nathan repeated himself. “Thank you very much for dinner, Annie.” He shook her hand again. He left the apartment with the promise to see him tomorrow.
Rob fell asleep that night, the happiest boy alive.
“Hey, Rob.”
Rob turned to see Joey coming up to him. Again, the grin that boded ill was plastered to his face. “Hey, that guy that’s teaching you how to fight? Know who he is?”
“He’s my friend,” Rob said defensively.
“He’s a dead man tonight.” Joey laughed and walked away.
Rob had to warn Nathan. For all he knew, Joey had arranged for a drive-by to happen. Again, he bolted out of school and saw Nathan across the street. He dove into the street, and ran to him. Nathan watched him, concern in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Joey…said….you’re…a dead man…”
“At one time I was.”
Rob didn’t have time to register that until he heard a man yell, “Hey, you! Perv!”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother. Rednecks.”
Sure enough, a pack of men, similar in looks and even attitude to Joey’s posse started coming up the street. The kids across the street in the schoolyard were gathered at the fence or on the sidewalk. Nathan put a hand on Rob’s shoulder and shoved him behind him. “Back up.”
Rob did as he was told, backing up about twenty feet. Nathan stood, his legs spread just a little, his hands behind his back.
“Who are you calling perv?”
“You, hanging around the school and picking up little boys.”
“I’m his mentor.”
The man was balding but had a beard, and had a beer belly. He looked like he hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in a week. The rest of them didn’t look that much better. “I’ll bet,” the man said, and suddenly punched Nathan in the side.
It was like he slammed his fist into a brick wall. Nathan didn’t move, and the man went down on his knees, howling and holding his hand. “Care to do that again?!” Nathan yelled at him.
Rob saw another man moving, a bat in his hand. “NAY—“
Nathan lifted his arm to block. Rob could hear the crack of the bat as it connected with Nathan’s arm. The arm didn’t waver. Nathan moved his arm down, wrapped his hand around the bat and yanked it out of the man’s hand. The man fell forward, and Nathan gave him a push with the bat so he fell onto the ground. Then he snapped the bat over his knee as if it was a twig.
“Anybody else?” Nathan demanded, dropping the remnants of the bat. The group of rednecks suddenly realized they needed to be somewhere else, as they bolted, leaving their two compatriots writhing on the ground.
“Thought not.” He turned to Rob, who was staring at him in almost adoration.
“You’re a hero,” he said quietly.
Nathan put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Don’t spread it around.”
“Wow…”
“This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop training you. In fact, it’s time to start working on building muscles. You’re going on a diet.”
“Aw, man…”
Nathan didn’t show up every day, but when he did, his training was relentless. Rob started losing weight faster than he could buy clothes. Kids didn’t bother him, after seeing him work out in the school’s gymnasium.
Then, one day, he saw Joey accosting another boy. Rob went up to Joey. “Leave him alone.”
“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”
The fight was quick but brutal. Rob punched him solidly in the nose. Joey yelled and stumbled away, banging against the lockers as he dashed down the hall to the school nurse. Rob checked on the boy, and smiled a little as he escorted him to his next class.
Nathan was waiting for him outside. Rob told him proudly what he had done, and Nathan put a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “You don’t need me, then.”
“What?”
“I’ll still come around, but I think you’re doing fine on your own. You can use the school’s gym, right?”
He nodded. He looked up at Nathan. “But I don’t want you to leave.”
“Remember what I said the first day I met you. I can’t always be here to save your ass.”
He looked down, sad. Nathan tilted his head and looked down at him. “There’s only one thing I ask.”
Rob wiped his nose. He was trying not to cry.
Nathan met Rob's eyes. “Just pay it forward.”
Inspiration: "The Headmaster's Ritual," The Smiths.
He glanced behind him for half a second. They were still on him, screaming like banshees. He whipped around a corner into an alleyway. He tried to jump over a bag of trash but tripped over it, and fell on his shoulder, skidding a good ten feet on the concrete. He struggled up, but felt someone grab him by the back of his backpack and pick him up, and throw him into the fence.
He stared into the maniacal eyes of Joey Tebow, captain of the local track team, baseball team, and all around jock.
“You can’t run,” he said, grinning. His posse behind him were all laughing and grinning at him.
Joey raised a hand to punch him, and someone yelled, “HEY!”
The group turned to the entrance to the alley. A man in a black biker jacket stood there, glaring at the group.
“Leave that kid alone,” he said, advancing into the alley.
When Joey was in this kind of a mood, he was insolent and uncaring. “What’re you gonna do about it, old man? You can’t touch us, we’re kids.”
The man gave him a cold smile. “Hm, you know, that’s right.” He casually lifted a hand and slowly opened his fingers wide.
Joey’s eyes went wide, and he dropped the boy. The rest of the group stared at something in the air, and then the man made a pushing motion. The boys screamed and ran down the other end of the alley.
The man nodded, turned his attention to the boy. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah,” he said, standing up and rubbing his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Sure. This happen to you a lot?”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
The man’s gaze softened. “You should do something about it.”
He humphed. “Too fat to take karate, too much of a klutz.”
The man smiled, this was a lot warmer than the one he gave Joey. “I know that feeling. By the way, my name’s Nathan.”
“Rob.” He took the offered hand.
“I think I should walk you home to make sure they don’t change their minds and come after you.”
“Eh, well, okay.”
They walked for a little while in silence, and then Nathan said, “You know, I was in your shoes once.”
“Really?” Rob looked over the handsome man. He looked very strong and not that easy to push around.
“Got beat up every night after school for four years. Same kids. I still remember their names.”
“What did you do? Did you tell anybody?”
“Heh, like anyone believed me.” He fell silent, glanced in his direction. “Nobody wanted to help a fat nerd.”
“Oh,” Rob looked down at the sidewalk as they walked.
“So that’s why I want to help you.”
“Me?” He stopped. He was only a block away from his house.
“Sure.” Nathan stopped with him. “One of the things you need to learn is how to defend yourself, and I can help you with that.”
“I’m too fat.”
“We can take care of that.”
“I have asthma.”
“We can take care of that, too.”
“I don’t know.”
He made an encompassing motion. “I’m not going to be around all the time to save your ass. I can help you. If you don’t want to take the help, then you’re going to grow up to be a bitter, angry man.”
“I’ll think about it, okay? Will you be around tomorrow?”
“I’ll make a point of it if you want.”
If he could get this guy to walk him home all the time, it would be well worth it. “Yeah, okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He started to walk away.
“Hey, Nathan, what did you do to them to make them run away?”
He turned around and had a slightly sad look on his face. “I showed them things nobody should ever see.”
“They did it again?”
He looked up at his mother. “Yeah.”
“What do you do to get them mad at you?”
“I don’t know, mom.” Breathe?
“You must be doing something. Want an éclair?”
“Sure.”
He sat at the kitchen table and munched on his éclair. His sister came downstairs, Tara the toothpick.
“Eating again?” He always seemed to be eating when she came around. Tara made a disgusted noise and walked out of the kitchen, grabbing her uniform for Drenched Donuts down the street. His mother sighed and started pulling out supper.
After a hearty chicken parmesan with tons of macaroni and cheese, he went upstairs and flicked on his computer. His shoulder was still sore, but it hadn’t been scraped as badly as he thought. He had no real friends, nobody he could even email or IM. He played a few shoot-em-up games, and shut it off half an hour before he had to go bed.
He went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror. He had brown eyes, brown hair, was fat and unremarkable. He didn’t know what caused the posse to come after him night after night. Maybe he was smarter than they were, maybe he did have something they didn’t.
Rob took out his scrapbook of heroes he adored. Tons of heroes he had read about, and almost all their escapades…he had been lax in his collection, so his scrapbook was about a year old. Some of the heroes in it had retired, disappeared, or died. Sometimes, when he looked at it, he wished he could be a hero, too.
Nobody wants a fat kid, he said to himself, as he got ready for bed.
The next day, Joey accosted him in the hall. “We didn’t get a chance to finish our little talk,” he said to Rob, as he grinned with the same maniacal look he had the day before. “We’ll be waiting.”
Rob bolted out of the school and started running. He didn’t know where he’d meet Nathan, if at all –
He ran into what seemed like a soft brick wall. “Hey,” said Nathan, “what’s the rush?”
“They’re after—“
“Like I said, I’m not going to be around all the time. Time to start your training.”
“Training?”
“If you can’t fight, run. If you can’t run, hide.”
Rob looked around frantically.
“Stop. Calm down. Look at your environment. You’re small enough to hide here – “ he motioned to a small alcove behind him. “If you’re desperate, you can hide in that dumpster over there.”
“In the dumpster?!”
“Trust me, nobody looks there.”
“And how long am I supposed to stay there?”
“You’ll know. You might be wrong at first, but you’ll learn.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Personally, I’d rather stand and fight.”
“You can do that.”
“Like I said, I didn’t always. C’mon, I’ll teach you basic brawling techniques. I don’t know judo or akido or anything like that…though I can ask someone I know.”
In the park two blocks from his house, Nathan taught him basic punching and blocking moves. Nathan was an encouraging teacher, helping Rob perfect his form and strength. Nathan often stood still while Rob punched at him. Then one morning, about three weeks later, he pulled on his pants and they fell off. He hadn’t realized he was tightening his belt throughout his time with Nathan.
Nathan was usually at the school to get him, but this afternoon he wasn’t there. This wasn’t like him. Rob walked home, and when he got home, he realized he hadn’t been ambushed. He went upstairs to his room, skipping his mother’s brownies, and practiced the moves Nathan taught him.
Nathan returned a few days later. He looked tired. “I had some business to take care of,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should have a way to contact you.”
“You can leave a message with my mom.”
“Got a phone number?”
“She doesn’t like phone calls. You can go to our house.” He had known this guy for a month. If he was a pervert, he would have come on to him by now. “C’mon, I’ll bring you over.”
Rob brought him over to the house. Nathan stayed at the foot of the townhouse and looked up the stairs. “You can meet my mom.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow and mounted the steps. “Where’s your dad?”
“They’re divorced.”
“Ah.” He followed Rob to the door. Rob announced himself, and his mother came into the hallway.
She looked up and up at the tall, handsome man and just stared at him. She didn’t hear Rob talking to her, so smitten she was by him. She did manage to catch his name.
“Oh, so nice to meet you –“ His hand was huge around hers. “Would you like some cookies?”
“No thank you, ma’am.”
She blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh, call me Annie.”
“All right.” He smiled, and she wanted to melt.
“C’mon up to my room,” Rob said excitedly. This was the first time he had invited a friend to his house, and he wanted to show him everything. Nathan followed him up the stairs to his room.
Nathan entered the small room and looked around, his smile growing. “Reminds me of my room when I was your age.” Nathan walked around a little and saw the scrapbook on his desk. “You like heroes?”
“Yeah, I used to read a lot about them. But there’s so many of them now, it’s hard to keep up.”
“Yeah, I know.” Nathan opened the scrap book and paged through it. “I remember some of these.”
“It’s a little out of date.”
Nathan stopped paging, and looked down at one of the pictures. It was a white-haired man, bathed in white light. Rob came and looked around Nathan’s elbow to see who he was looking at. “Oh, that’s Masonry. He died last year.”
Nathan swallowed and set the book down. He looked at the book, took a deep breath and glanced around the room again. Rob started showing him other things that he owned, and Nathan made non committal noises over them.
“Rob, dinner!”
Nathan put a hand on the door. “Guess I’d better be going.”
“No, maybe she’s made enough for you, too.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose –“
“It’s okay, really! Mom, mom, can Nathan stay?”
“Well, uh –“
Nathan put his hands up. “Really, I can go—“
But Rob was already pulling Nathan by his jacket into the kitchen. Rob looked at all the food piled on his plate. “I don’t need all that.” He got another plate, and he poured some of the shepherd’s pie into it. “Here, you can have some of mine.”
“I don’t want to be accused of taking food out of your mouth,” Nathan said, looking at the setting at the table.
“It’s okay. Time for me to go on a diet, anyways.”
“Okay, then.” Nathan shrugged out of his jacket. He wore short sleeves, and his arms were huge, muscular and built. Rob’s mother sat across from him, and they all ate, Rob chattering constantly. When dinner was done, he got up and went to the bathroom.
Annie smiled at Nathan. “I’ve never seen him so excited.”
“That’s good. He’s a good kid.”
She nodded. “I just wish he’d stop bothering the boys at school. They keep beating him up.”
“I doubt he’s bothering them. Sometimes bullies don’t need a reason.”
Anne shook her head. “I don’t understand. He gets good grades. They still beat him up.”
Nathan looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something, snapped it shut. He glanced at the clock. “I really have to go.”
Rob came back into the room, and Nathan repeated himself. “Thank you very much for dinner, Annie.” He shook her hand again. He left the apartment with the promise to see him tomorrow.
Rob fell asleep that night, the happiest boy alive.
“Hey, Rob.”
Rob turned to see Joey coming up to him. Again, the grin that boded ill was plastered to his face. “Hey, that guy that’s teaching you how to fight? Know who he is?”
“He’s my friend,” Rob said defensively.
“He’s a dead man tonight.” Joey laughed and walked away.
Rob had to warn Nathan. For all he knew, Joey had arranged for a drive-by to happen. Again, he bolted out of school and saw Nathan across the street. He dove into the street, and ran to him. Nathan watched him, concern in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Joey…said….you’re…a dead man…”
“At one time I was.”
Rob didn’t have time to register that until he heard a man yell, “Hey, you! Perv!”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother. Rednecks.”
Sure enough, a pack of men, similar in looks and even attitude to Joey’s posse started coming up the street. The kids across the street in the schoolyard were gathered at the fence or on the sidewalk. Nathan put a hand on Rob’s shoulder and shoved him behind him. “Back up.”
Rob did as he was told, backing up about twenty feet. Nathan stood, his legs spread just a little, his hands behind his back.
“Who are you calling perv?”
“You, hanging around the school and picking up little boys.”
“I’m his mentor.”
The man was balding but had a beard, and had a beer belly. He looked like he hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in a week. The rest of them didn’t look that much better. “I’ll bet,” the man said, and suddenly punched Nathan in the side.
It was like he slammed his fist into a brick wall. Nathan didn’t move, and the man went down on his knees, howling and holding his hand. “Care to do that again?!” Nathan yelled at him.
Rob saw another man moving, a bat in his hand. “NAY—“
Nathan lifted his arm to block. Rob could hear the crack of the bat as it connected with Nathan’s arm. The arm didn’t waver. Nathan moved his arm down, wrapped his hand around the bat and yanked it out of the man’s hand. The man fell forward, and Nathan gave him a push with the bat so he fell onto the ground. Then he snapped the bat over his knee as if it was a twig.
“Anybody else?” Nathan demanded, dropping the remnants of the bat. The group of rednecks suddenly realized they needed to be somewhere else, as they bolted, leaving their two compatriots writhing on the ground.
“Thought not.” He turned to Rob, who was staring at him in almost adoration.
“You’re a hero,” he said quietly.
Nathan put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Don’t spread it around.”
“Wow…”
“This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop training you. In fact, it’s time to start working on building muscles. You’re going on a diet.”
“Aw, man…”
Nathan didn’t show up every day, but when he did, his training was relentless. Rob started losing weight faster than he could buy clothes. Kids didn’t bother him, after seeing him work out in the school’s gymnasium.
Then, one day, he saw Joey accosting another boy. Rob went up to Joey. “Leave him alone.”
“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”
The fight was quick but brutal. Rob punched him solidly in the nose. Joey yelled and stumbled away, banging against the lockers as he dashed down the hall to the school nurse. Rob checked on the boy, and smiled a little as he escorted him to his next class.
Nathan was waiting for him outside. Rob told him proudly what he had done, and Nathan put a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “You don’t need me, then.”
“What?”
“I’ll still come around, but I think you’re doing fine on your own. You can use the school’s gym, right?”
He nodded. He looked up at Nathan. “But I don’t want you to leave.”
“Remember what I said the first day I met you. I can’t always be here to save your ass.”
He looked down, sad. Nathan tilted his head and looked down at him. “There’s only one thing I ask.”
Rob wiped his nose. He was trying not to cry.
Nathan met Rob's eyes. “Just pay it forward.”
Inspiration: "The Headmaster's Ritual," The Smiths.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Masonry thought it was stupid to join a gym. He was still working on perfecting his powers, hell, even using them at will would be a good start. A new gym had opened up in Skyway City, catering to super heroes. He figured that the reason most people joined would be to primp and preen in front of each other, to show off their massively muscular bods.
He opened the door to the Super Gym (original, that), and stepped inside. He was immediately assaulted by the clean smell of the place. The young girl at the front desk looked up from her magazine and gave him a smile. “Welcome to Super Gym, can I help you?”
“I’d like to sign up,” Masonry said.
“Okay, if you could fill out this form…”
He took the form offered and sat down in the not-so-comfortable fat chairs in the lobby. He wrote his real name, left off his hero name, and filled in the other necessary demographics like his height and weight. Personal trainer gender preference: Circle one. Male Female.
Let’s play it safe. Female.
He passed the form in to the girl. “Thank you, Mr…Greene.” She picked up the pen and filled in “Anonymous” when it asked for his hero name. “Okay, let me see, I think Judy’s available in about half an hour…”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
“You can take a look around if you like. We’ll page you when she’s ready.”
“Okay,” he said, and started walking around.
He had no idea what these contraptions did, but he saw men and women on them, so he assumed they were some kind of weight training machines. He didn’t wander far from the lobby, because he didn’t want to get lost. “’Scuse me,” a woman said, and jogged past him. He thought that was silly, jogging in a building.
Masonry just watched some people, not really focusing on what they were doing, when he heard his name over the intercom. He found his way back to the lobby, and saw a woman with dark hair in black Lycra. She had muscles on top of muscles, and the Lycra was cut off at the midriff to show her six-pack abs. She was better built than some of the heroes he had seen.
“Hi, I’m Judy,” she said, and shook his hand in a bear grip. “I’ll be your trainer. Did you get a chance to look around?”
“It’s a big place, I was afraid to get lost.”
She chuckled. “Okay, I’ll take you on a tour.”
They wandered the huge building, where she helpfully pointed out cardio-vascular machines, weight training machines, body measurement machines, treadmills (he knew what those were), and all sorts of machines for all different kinds of things. Stair steppers, and ellipticals, rowing machines and free weights…it was all too confusing.
Then they went downstairs, where he saw the huge pool room. He needed to buy swimming trunks…he usually swam in costume, which was waterproof.
“Does this sound like something you’d like to do?”
He looked at her. “I think so.”
“Okay, then, let’s get started.”
She referred back to his form and turned it over. “Ever have the following medical conditions…”
He answered no to every question. “What is it you want to do? What’s your goal?”
“To keep in shape.”
“Do you do heroing?”
“On the weekends.”
“Uh huh, and what’s your day job?”
“I don’t have a day job.”
“Okay…”
Masonry gave her a disarming smile. She smiled back, though it was forced. “Okay, then, let’s take a look at your body mass index. It looks like you’re at a healthy weight. Do you want to develop muscles?”
“Sure, that’ll work.”
“Or strength training, or develop more mass…”
He shrugged. “I am putty in your hands.”
She looked him over. “Right,” she said, and shook her head. Masonry wondered if she was gay.
She wrote down a few things, and gave him an index card. “Here’s a list of machines I’d like you to try. You can start with this routine, and then we can work on how things go.”
“About how long will it take?”
“Say about an hour.”
“Okay.”
“C’mon, I’ll show you what to do.”
For two hours, Masonry sat down at assorted machines and tried them out. They were harder than they looked, considering he wasn’t using any of his power to move the weights. He definitely was out of shape, as he found himself panting through the last leg of the workout. He looked up at Judy, who was smiling. You’re enjoying this, he thought with a twinge of anger.
“Good job for the first time. I’m assuming your power isn’t super strength.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward on the bench.
“Even mages need to keep in shape,” she said. She turned from him. “Will you be coming back tomorrow?”
“Probably.”
“I’ll check in with you, see how you’re doing. Thanks for coming by.” She gave him a little wave and left him.
Masonry got up from the bench and glanced around the room. Yeah, Frost is gonna get a real kick out this.
Masonry returned once every other day, except on weekends. For the first week, he barely got through the workout. He enjoyed the swimming afterward and could have spent all day in the pool.
The next week, he was pausing at an incline bench, when someone came up to him. “Can you spot for me?” he asked.
Masonry looked at the blond man, broad shouldered, and very muscular. Certainly someone he would not want to tangle with. “Spot?”
“Watch me while I’m lifting. Make sure I don’t drop the bar.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Great.” The man walked away. Nice ass, Masonry thought, and shoved that thought right out of his head.
The man lay down on the bench and Masonry stood over him. He remembered seeing other people do this, so he had some sort of familiarity with it. Masonry watched the man do his repetitions, about forty, and then he set the bar back on the standards. “That looked easy,” Masonry said.
“Eight hundred pounds,” the man said with a smile, and sat up. “Danny.”
“Nathan.” They shook hands. “Super strength?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Not.”
Danny laughed. “Heh, I see, doing it the old fashioned way. Well, thanks for the help.”
“Anytime,” Masonry said and looked at the next machine he had to do. He sighed and headed over to it.
Danny was just coming out of the shower as Masonry was walking in. “Hey,” they said to each other.
“Do you come here every day around this time?” Danny asked.
“Every other day, why?”
“I need a spotter.”
“I don’t know if I could lift 800 pounds if it dropped on you.”
“I haven’t dropped it yet, but it’s house rules you have a spotter.”
“Sure, I can help you out.”
“Great. See you next time.”
Masonry nodded, watched Danny leave. He had noticed the wedding ring on his finger. Heh, lucky girl, he thought.
Masonry often spotted for Danny, and the two men got to know each other a little better. Danny was more forthcoming with his private life than Masonry. Danny was married, had two children. His day job was working as an accountant for a subsidiary of Wentworth’s, while he did his heroing at night and on weekends. He was known as Captain Strongbow, even though he didn’t carry a bow. He didn’t do anything on Sunday, “that’s the Sabbath day.”
Masonry kept quiet about his life, saying that he did a little heroing, that he was in a relationship, and he really had no day job. Damn, he thought, I need to get a job. I feel like a sponge.
One day, Danny put two extra weights on the bar bell and lay down on the bench. “I think I’m ready,” he said, and took hold of the bar.
“What is it now?” Masonry asked.
“A thousand,” Danny grunted, lifting the bar off the standards and pulling it toward him.
Masonry stood close, watching his face. He was struggling, but, like all men, he was going to force himself through it. Then Masonry saw a look of alarm pass over Danny’s face. Masonry reached down, called upon the darkness, and with one hand grabbed the bar just before Danny’s arms collapsed.
“How…”
Masonry easily lifted the bar and set it back on the standards. Danny stared at him, his eyes as wide as saucers.
“I had a little help,” Masonry said with a smile.
“Evil,” Danny said, getting up off the bench. “You’re evil!”
Masonry looked down at his hands, and saw they were smoking with the remnants of the Netherworld. If he could guess, he figured his eyes were smoking as well.
“Spawn of Satan!” Danny cried, almost hysterical. Some of the other members of the gym turned in their direction.
“Danny, there’s nothing different about me.”
“Get away from me!” Danny ran from the room. Masonry stared after him, confused. What the hell..?
Masonry glanced at the people around the room, who turned and went back to their workouts. Masonry looked at the door, still confused, and hurried through his workout. He headed to the showers, and saw Danny hurriedly packing things in a bag.
“Danny…”
“Get thee hence!” Danny yelled, making a cross symbol with his index fingers.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting? I’m not a devil.” Not today.
“You consort with demons, you have the powers of darkness!”
“Yes,” Masonry said patiently. He wondered what Danny’s reaction would have been if he mentioned he was gay.
“I do not consort with demons. I am a God-fearing man, and believe in the power of Jesus Christ.”
“Okay, okay,” Masonry said, suddenly uncomfortable. “But using the darkness doesn’t make me evil.”
“It most certainly does. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you anymore.” He finished packing his bag and got up. “In fact, I probably can’t come back to this gym anymore, not while you’re here.”
“C’mon,” Masonry said, “this gym is big enough for both of us.”
Danny shoved by Masonry, avoiding touching him. “You corrupt everything you touch,” Danny said, “So goes the power of darkness.”
Oh, brother, Masonry thought, trying not to roll his eyes. “It’s in the way that you use it.”
Danny turned his back on Masonry and stormed upstairs. Masonry’s confusion gave way to anger. Well, fuck you, too.
Masonry angrily went to his locker and started loading up his bag. He seethed as he stormed up the stairs to the lobby. At the entrance to the lobby stood a huge man with his arms folded across his chest, looking menancing. He caught Masonry’s eye and called, “Mr. Greene?”
“Yeah?”
“May I speak with you a moment?”
Masonry raised an eyebrow and followed the man into the corner. The man turned to him. He had perfected the “bouncer look” and gave it to Masonry. Masonry tossed his head back defiantly. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Greene, but we’ve received some complaints about your conduct here.”
“Complaints, my ass,” Masonry snarled. “All I did was stop a barbell from crushing someone’s chest.”
“Powers such as yours are not welcome here,” the man responded in kind.
“And this is a church?”
“We have upstanding members of the community here.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Masonry growled. “It shouldn’t matter what kind of power I have. It’s not like I summon demons in the middle of the swimming pool!” He hitched up his bag and glared at the man. “Screw it.” And screw you, and your fucking gym…
Masonry stormed out of the gym. Luckily he hadn’t left anything in the locker, and he didn’t care if he did. His mind swirled with epithets and revenge.
He stopped. “Well, screw them,” he said, and headed home. The first thing he was going to do when he got home was ask Frost for a weight machine. And then he was going to look up Captain Strongbow.
He opened the door to the Super Gym (original, that), and stepped inside. He was immediately assaulted by the clean smell of the place. The young girl at the front desk looked up from her magazine and gave him a smile. “Welcome to Super Gym, can I help you?”
“I’d like to sign up,” Masonry said.
“Okay, if you could fill out this form…”
He took the form offered and sat down in the not-so-comfortable fat chairs in the lobby. He wrote his real name, left off his hero name, and filled in the other necessary demographics like his height and weight. Personal trainer gender preference: Circle one. Male Female.
Let’s play it safe. Female.
He passed the form in to the girl. “Thank you, Mr…Greene.” She picked up the pen and filled in “Anonymous” when it asked for his hero name. “Okay, let me see, I think Judy’s available in about half an hour…”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
“You can take a look around if you like. We’ll page you when she’s ready.”
“Okay,” he said, and started walking around.
He had no idea what these contraptions did, but he saw men and women on them, so he assumed they were some kind of weight training machines. He didn’t wander far from the lobby, because he didn’t want to get lost. “’Scuse me,” a woman said, and jogged past him. He thought that was silly, jogging in a building.
Masonry just watched some people, not really focusing on what they were doing, when he heard his name over the intercom. He found his way back to the lobby, and saw a woman with dark hair in black Lycra. She had muscles on top of muscles, and the Lycra was cut off at the midriff to show her six-pack abs. She was better built than some of the heroes he had seen.
“Hi, I’m Judy,” she said, and shook his hand in a bear grip. “I’ll be your trainer. Did you get a chance to look around?”
“It’s a big place, I was afraid to get lost.”
She chuckled. “Okay, I’ll take you on a tour.”
They wandered the huge building, where she helpfully pointed out cardio-vascular machines, weight training machines, body measurement machines, treadmills (he knew what those were), and all sorts of machines for all different kinds of things. Stair steppers, and ellipticals, rowing machines and free weights…it was all too confusing.
Then they went downstairs, where he saw the huge pool room. He needed to buy swimming trunks…he usually swam in costume, which was waterproof.
“Does this sound like something you’d like to do?”
He looked at her. “I think so.”
“Okay, then, let’s get started.”
She referred back to his form and turned it over. “Ever have the following medical conditions…”
He answered no to every question. “What is it you want to do? What’s your goal?”
“To keep in shape.”
“Do you do heroing?”
“On the weekends.”
“Uh huh, and what’s your day job?”
“I don’t have a day job.”
“Okay…”
Masonry gave her a disarming smile. She smiled back, though it was forced. “Okay, then, let’s take a look at your body mass index. It looks like you’re at a healthy weight. Do you want to develop muscles?”
“Sure, that’ll work.”
“Or strength training, or develop more mass…”
He shrugged. “I am putty in your hands.”
She looked him over. “Right,” she said, and shook her head. Masonry wondered if she was gay.
She wrote down a few things, and gave him an index card. “Here’s a list of machines I’d like you to try. You can start with this routine, and then we can work on how things go.”
“About how long will it take?”
“Say about an hour.”
“Okay.”
“C’mon, I’ll show you what to do.”
For two hours, Masonry sat down at assorted machines and tried them out. They were harder than they looked, considering he wasn’t using any of his power to move the weights. He definitely was out of shape, as he found himself panting through the last leg of the workout. He looked up at Judy, who was smiling. You’re enjoying this, he thought with a twinge of anger.
“Good job for the first time. I’m assuming your power isn’t super strength.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward on the bench.
“Even mages need to keep in shape,” she said. She turned from him. “Will you be coming back tomorrow?”
“Probably.”
“I’ll check in with you, see how you’re doing. Thanks for coming by.” She gave him a little wave and left him.
Masonry got up from the bench and glanced around the room. Yeah, Frost is gonna get a real kick out this.
Masonry returned once every other day, except on weekends. For the first week, he barely got through the workout. He enjoyed the swimming afterward and could have spent all day in the pool.
The next week, he was pausing at an incline bench, when someone came up to him. “Can you spot for me?” he asked.
Masonry looked at the blond man, broad shouldered, and very muscular. Certainly someone he would not want to tangle with. “Spot?”
“Watch me while I’m lifting. Make sure I don’t drop the bar.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Great.” The man walked away. Nice ass, Masonry thought, and shoved that thought right out of his head.
The man lay down on the bench and Masonry stood over him. He remembered seeing other people do this, so he had some sort of familiarity with it. Masonry watched the man do his repetitions, about forty, and then he set the bar back on the standards. “That looked easy,” Masonry said.
“Eight hundred pounds,” the man said with a smile, and sat up. “Danny.”
“Nathan.” They shook hands. “Super strength?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Not.”
Danny laughed. “Heh, I see, doing it the old fashioned way. Well, thanks for the help.”
“Anytime,” Masonry said and looked at the next machine he had to do. He sighed and headed over to it.
Danny was just coming out of the shower as Masonry was walking in. “Hey,” they said to each other.
“Do you come here every day around this time?” Danny asked.
“Every other day, why?”
“I need a spotter.”
“I don’t know if I could lift 800 pounds if it dropped on you.”
“I haven’t dropped it yet, but it’s house rules you have a spotter.”
“Sure, I can help you out.”
“Great. See you next time.”
Masonry nodded, watched Danny leave. He had noticed the wedding ring on his finger. Heh, lucky girl, he thought.
Masonry often spotted for Danny, and the two men got to know each other a little better. Danny was more forthcoming with his private life than Masonry. Danny was married, had two children. His day job was working as an accountant for a subsidiary of Wentworth’s, while he did his heroing at night and on weekends. He was known as Captain Strongbow, even though he didn’t carry a bow. He didn’t do anything on Sunday, “that’s the Sabbath day.”
Masonry kept quiet about his life, saying that he did a little heroing, that he was in a relationship, and he really had no day job. Damn, he thought, I need to get a job. I feel like a sponge.
One day, Danny put two extra weights on the bar bell and lay down on the bench. “I think I’m ready,” he said, and took hold of the bar.
“What is it now?” Masonry asked.
“A thousand,” Danny grunted, lifting the bar off the standards and pulling it toward him.
Masonry stood close, watching his face. He was struggling, but, like all men, he was going to force himself through it. Then Masonry saw a look of alarm pass over Danny’s face. Masonry reached down, called upon the darkness, and with one hand grabbed the bar just before Danny’s arms collapsed.
“How…”
Masonry easily lifted the bar and set it back on the standards. Danny stared at him, his eyes as wide as saucers.
“I had a little help,” Masonry said with a smile.
“Evil,” Danny said, getting up off the bench. “You’re evil!”
Masonry looked down at his hands, and saw they were smoking with the remnants of the Netherworld. If he could guess, he figured his eyes were smoking as well.
“Spawn of Satan!” Danny cried, almost hysterical. Some of the other members of the gym turned in their direction.
“Danny, there’s nothing different about me.”
“Get away from me!” Danny ran from the room. Masonry stared after him, confused. What the hell..?
Masonry glanced at the people around the room, who turned and went back to their workouts. Masonry looked at the door, still confused, and hurried through his workout. He headed to the showers, and saw Danny hurriedly packing things in a bag.
“Danny…”
“Get thee hence!” Danny yelled, making a cross symbol with his index fingers.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting? I’m not a devil.” Not today.
“You consort with demons, you have the powers of darkness!”
“Yes,” Masonry said patiently. He wondered what Danny’s reaction would have been if he mentioned he was gay.
“I do not consort with demons. I am a God-fearing man, and believe in the power of Jesus Christ.”
“Okay, okay,” Masonry said, suddenly uncomfortable. “But using the darkness doesn’t make me evil.”
“It most certainly does. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you anymore.” He finished packing his bag and got up. “In fact, I probably can’t come back to this gym anymore, not while you’re here.”
“C’mon,” Masonry said, “this gym is big enough for both of us.”
Danny shoved by Masonry, avoiding touching him. “You corrupt everything you touch,” Danny said, “So goes the power of darkness.”
Oh, brother, Masonry thought, trying not to roll his eyes. “It’s in the way that you use it.”
Danny turned his back on Masonry and stormed upstairs. Masonry’s confusion gave way to anger. Well, fuck you, too.
Masonry angrily went to his locker and started loading up his bag. He seethed as he stormed up the stairs to the lobby. At the entrance to the lobby stood a huge man with his arms folded across his chest, looking menancing. He caught Masonry’s eye and called, “Mr. Greene?”
“Yeah?”
“May I speak with you a moment?”
Masonry raised an eyebrow and followed the man into the corner. The man turned to him. He had perfected the “bouncer look” and gave it to Masonry. Masonry tossed his head back defiantly. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Greene, but we’ve received some complaints about your conduct here.”
“Complaints, my ass,” Masonry snarled. “All I did was stop a barbell from crushing someone’s chest.”
“Powers such as yours are not welcome here,” the man responded in kind.
“And this is a church?”
“We have upstanding members of the community here.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Masonry growled. “It shouldn’t matter what kind of power I have. It’s not like I summon demons in the middle of the swimming pool!” He hitched up his bag and glared at the man. “Screw it.” And screw you, and your fucking gym…
Masonry stormed out of the gym. Luckily he hadn’t left anything in the locker, and he didn’t care if he did. His mind swirled with epithets and revenge.
He stopped. “Well, screw them,” he said, and headed home. The first thing he was going to do when he got home was ask Frost for a weight machine. And then he was going to look up Captain Strongbow.
Dear hero imprisoned
With all the new crimes that you are perfecting
Oh, I cant help quoting you
Because everything that you said rings true
And now in my cell
(well, I followed you)
And heres a list of who I slew
Reggie kray - do you know my name ?
Oh, dont say you dont
Please say you do, (oh) I am :
The last of the famous
International playboys
The last of the famous
International playboys
And in my cell
(well, I loved you)
And every man with a job to do
Ronnie kray - do you know my face ?
Oh, dont say you dont
Please say you do, (oh) I am :
The last of the famous
International playboys
The last of the famous
International playboys
In our lifetime those who kill
The newsworld hands them stardom
And these are the ways
On which I was raised
These are the ways
On which I was raised
I never wanted to kill
I am not naturally evil
Such things I do
Just to make myself
More attractive to you
Have I failed ?
Oh...
Oh, the last of the famous
International playboys
The last of the famous
The Last of the Famous International Playboys - Morrissey
With all the new crimes that you are perfecting
Oh, I cant help quoting you
Because everything that you said rings true
And now in my cell
(well, I followed you)
And heres a list of who I slew
Reggie kray - do you know my name ?
Oh, dont say you dont
Please say you do, (oh) I am :
The last of the famous
International playboys
The last of the famous
International playboys
And in my cell
(well, I loved you)
And every man with a job to do
Ronnie kray - do you know my face ?
Oh, dont say you dont
Please say you do, (oh) I am :
The last of the famous
International playboys
The last of the famous
International playboys
In our lifetime those who kill
The newsworld hands them stardom
And these are the ways
On which I was raised
These are the ways
On which I was raised
I never wanted to kill
I am not naturally evil
Such things I do
Just to make myself
More attractive to you
Have I failed ?
Oh...
Oh, the last of the famous
International playboys
The last of the famous
The Last of the Famous International Playboys - Morrissey
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
“Goddamn fucking WINGS!”
The group of heroes turned at the outburst. There weren’t that many heroes left, which was the purpose of this meeting today.
Sonic Butterfly stomped into the room, his hobnailed boots crashing on the tile floor. He glared around at them, assessing the small group. Frozen Decibel, a white-haired, blue-skinned young man lounged on the leather couch. Powerhouse Jack sat next to him, his eyes burning with white Kheldian fire. The cyborg-ish man known as Red Psi-Ops sat in one chair, while a Suicidal Wombat stood off to the side of the bar. Butterfly nodded to Idaho.
“Well, we’re all here,” said Wombat.
“Sad, isn’t it?” said Idaho. The rest of the heroes nodded slowly.
Wombat started ticking off names. “Grim went off to the Isles, so I hear. Lady Providence headed back to Florida. Trip went back to her own time. Masonry’s dead. Frost is MIA.”
“There weren’t too many of us to begin with,” said Jack.
“So what’re we gonna do now? This base is too big for us to keep up.”
The heroes swiveled their heads to stare at Wombat. “You mean close the base?” uttered Jack.
“That is what I mean.”
“Disband?” commented Red, “After all we’ve been through?”
“After what who’s been through?” demanded Butterfly. “You’re new here. And all that frozen boy’s been doing is suckin’ up the security levels at AE.”
“Right,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat at Butterfly.
Wombat continued, “There are plenty other supergroups that would want our services.”
“Listen,” said Jack, standing up. “We’re not all at a high enough security level to strike out on our own. How about you keep the base open until we all reach that at least?”
“We can recruit new members,” said Idaho. “I see it done all the time.”
“And they sound like they’re begging,” Wombat snapped. “No, we’re not doing that. Okay, Jack, I can see your point. Red will be the last ‘graduate’ so to speak.”
Red asked, “What about Blade-something?”
“Who?” asked Wombat.
“Blade-something. Blade-link or…Bladeless.”
“Don’t know him. Anybody recruit him?” Everyone shrugged and shook their heads. “Maybe Trip let him in, who knows.”
Butterfly turned on his boots and made himself hover a foot off the ground. “Can I go now? I got a beer with my name on it at College Hill.”
“All right, then, we don’t close the base until everyone is at the top security level and can go off on their own.”
“You never know,” said Jack with a smile, “There might be more people coming in.”
The group of heroes turned at the outburst. There weren’t that many heroes left, which was the purpose of this meeting today.
Sonic Butterfly stomped into the room, his hobnailed boots crashing on the tile floor. He glared around at them, assessing the small group. Frozen Decibel, a white-haired, blue-skinned young man lounged on the leather couch. Powerhouse Jack sat next to him, his eyes burning with white Kheldian fire. The cyborg-ish man known as Red Psi-Ops sat in one chair, while a Suicidal Wombat stood off to the side of the bar. Butterfly nodded to Idaho.
“Well, we’re all here,” said Wombat.
“Sad, isn’t it?” said Idaho. The rest of the heroes nodded slowly.
Wombat started ticking off names. “Grim went off to the Isles, so I hear. Lady Providence headed back to Florida. Trip went back to her own time. Masonry’s dead. Frost is MIA.”
“There weren’t too many of us to begin with,” said Jack.
“So what’re we gonna do now? This base is too big for us to keep up.”
The heroes swiveled their heads to stare at Wombat. “You mean close the base?” uttered Jack.
“That is what I mean.”
“Disband?” commented Red, “After all we’ve been through?”
“After what who’s been through?” demanded Butterfly. “You’re new here. And all that frozen boy’s been doing is suckin’ up the security levels at AE.”
“Right,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat at Butterfly.
Wombat continued, “There are plenty other supergroups that would want our services.”
“Listen,” said Jack, standing up. “We’re not all at a high enough security level to strike out on our own. How about you keep the base open until we all reach that at least?”
“We can recruit new members,” said Idaho. “I see it done all the time.”
“And they sound like they’re begging,” Wombat snapped. “No, we’re not doing that. Okay, Jack, I can see your point. Red will be the last ‘graduate’ so to speak.”
Red asked, “What about Blade-something?”
“Who?” asked Wombat.
“Blade-something. Blade-link or…Bladeless.”
“Don’t know him. Anybody recruit him?” Everyone shrugged and shook their heads. “Maybe Trip let him in, who knows.”
Butterfly turned on his boots and made himself hover a foot off the ground. “Can I go now? I got a beer with my name on it at College Hill.”
“All right, then, we don’t close the base until everyone is at the top security level and can go off on their own.”
“You never know,” said Jack with a smile, “There might be more people coming in.”
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Jane Hudson studied the man across from her. He was physically fit, though not perfect, and, according to the tests, mentally stable. He was single, with a mother and a sister still alive, no girlfriends.
She offered an empty smile at him, and the man smiled back. Not ugly, but not overly handsome either. That was okay; his face would be covered by a mask anyway.
"Mr. Mathias," she began, "it seems you've passed the tests, and now we're in the final leg of admission into the program."
"I'm ready," he said and nodded once. So serious, she thought. There was more than just the "I want to help people" answer that he gave in all the answers to the Why questions.
She put aside his folder, folded her hands up and rested her chin on them. "What's the real reason for joining up?"
"I want to help people," he replied, as if by rote.
"I know that." She glanced at the folder. "You've given us all the right answers. But they're thinking of rejecting you because of one thing."
His blue eyes flashed.
She pulled down her hands and leaned back in her chair. "You have no passion."
He looked at his folder, then back to her.
"You took all the tests, you answered all the questions. You didn't get angry, frustrated, or even dismayed. You weren't happy over your successes, proud of your achievements. You plodded through. You did have one thing, determination, and if it was me, I'd take bring you in the other room and get you started right now. But we have the FBSA and our sponsors to deal with. They'll look at you and say you're a good worker, but you're not a hero."
"Then what makes a hero is passion?"
"That's part of it. Love for his fellow man. Trust and belief that people need protecting and assistance, even when they turn their backs on you. Humility, kindness, justice. And always going out there, putting your life on the line every day to help some poor bum who would probably be back out on the streets in half an hour doing the same thing he was doing when you found him. Ingrates, insufferable citizens who do the same stupid things over and over. Criminals who get off scot-free because of good lawyers. People playing with magic, not knowing what they're getting themselves into. It takes a special kind of person, a person who cares. Do you care?"
Jack swallowed. "Yes."
She turned, dragged the folder over to her and flipped it open. "Chris. Does that name ring a bell?"
"Yes," he replied in a strong voice.
"Why haven't you mentioned your brother who died in the Isles three months ago?"
"You didn't ask."
Again, that empty smile. "It's true we did not ask about deceased relatives. They haven't found his killer yet, have they?"
"No." He kept his eyes on her, not wavering.
"According to the reports we have, they believe he's one of the super powered villains from the Isles."
"Yes."
She closed the folder, studied him again. "You want to give me all the right answers to get into this program? Tell me that you want vengeance for your brother."
He watched her, and the two sat across from each other. Another person would think they were having a battle of wills against each other, but Jane knew that he was having a battle within himself, that she had touched upon the real reason.
"Well?"
"It might have something to do with it."
She got up. "Maybe after you succeed here you can join up with Longbow. They have outposts on the Isles."
He followed her motion. "When do I start?"
"Follow me, please."
He smiled and walked around the table to her side. She opened the door and held it open for him.
"We have something outfitted for you, it's a special suit. It will generate a psychic ability so that you can subdue your enemies. That's your job, Mr. Mathias, to subdue them. You understand that part, don't you?"
She kept on walking, as he looked around white corridor. There were no windows, just doors, and he could hear hums beyond each of the doors. She didn't stop at any of the doors; in fact, continued on down the hall to the end, to a set of stairs. She parted that door, waiting for him to catch up.
"What's your favorite color, by the way," she asked, as she started up the stairs.
"Red, why do you ask?"
"A small bit of personalization, Mr. Mathias."
"Look, if we're going to work together, you can call me Jack."
She stopped at the stairs. "Mr. Mathias, you are a subject of an experiment. I will call you Mr. Mathias, and you will call me Dr. Hudson. Is that clear?"
He swallowed. "Clear, Dr. Hudson."
She opened the next set of doors, and didn't wait for him to catch up.
She offered an empty smile at him, and the man smiled back. Not ugly, but not overly handsome either. That was okay; his face would be covered by a mask anyway.
"Mr. Mathias," she began, "it seems you've passed the tests, and now we're in the final leg of admission into the program."
"I'm ready," he said and nodded once. So serious, she thought. There was more than just the "I want to help people" answer that he gave in all the answers to the Why questions.
She put aside his folder, folded her hands up and rested her chin on them. "What's the real reason for joining up?"
"I want to help people," he replied, as if by rote.
"I know that." She glanced at the folder. "You've given us all the right answers. But they're thinking of rejecting you because of one thing."
His blue eyes flashed.
She pulled down her hands and leaned back in her chair. "You have no passion."
He looked at his folder, then back to her.
"You took all the tests, you answered all the questions. You didn't get angry, frustrated, or even dismayed. You weren't happy over your successes, proud of your achievements. You plodded through. You did have one thing, determination, and if it was me, I'd take bring you in the other room and get you started right now. But we have the FBSA and our sponsors to deal with. They'll look at you and say you're a good worker, but you're not a hero."
"Then what makes a hero is passion?"
"That's part of it. Love for his fellow man. Trust and belief that people need protecting and assistance, even when they turn their backs on you. Humility, kindness, justice. And always going out there, putting your life on the line every day to help some poor bum who would probably be back out on the streets in half an hour doing the same thing he was doing when you found him. Ingrates, insufferable citizens who do the same stupid things over and over. Criminals who get off scot-free because of good lawyers. People playing with magic, not knowing what they're getting themselves into. It takes a special kind of person, a person who cares. Do you care?"
Jack swallowed. "Yes."
She turned, dragged the folder over to her and flipped it open. "Chris. Does that name ring a bell?"
"Yes," he replied in a strong voice.
"Why haven't you mentioned your brother who died in the Isles three months ago?"
"You didn't ask."
Again, that empty smile. "It's true we did not ask about deceased relatives. They haven't found his killer yet, have they?"
"No." He kept his eyes on her, not wavering.
"According to the reports we have, they believe he's one of the super powered villains from the Isles."
"Yes."
She closed the folder, studied him again. "You want to give me all the right answers to get into this program? Tell me that you want vengeance for your brother."
He watched her, and the two sat across from each other. Another person would think they were having a battle of wills against each other, but Jane knew that he was having a battle within himself, that she had touched upon the real reason.
"Well?"
"It might have something to do with it."
She got up. "Maybe after you succeed here you can join up with Longbow. They have outposts on the Isles."
He followed her motion. "When do I start?"
"Follow me, please."
He smiled and walked around the table to her side. She opened the door and held it open for him.
"We have something outfitted for you, it's a special suit. It will generate a psychic ability so that you can subdue your enemies. That's your job, Mr. Mathias, to subdue them. You understand that part, don't you?"
She kept on walking, as he looked around white corridor. There were no windows, just doors, and he could hear hums beyond each of the doors. She didn't stop at any of the doors; in fact, continued on down the hall to the end, to a set of stairs. She parted that door, waiting for him to catch up.
"What's your favorite color, by the way," she asked, as she started up the stairs.
"Red, why do you ask?"
"A small bit of personalization, Mr. Mathias."
"Look, if we're going to work together, you can call me Jack."
She stopped at the stairs. "Mr. Mathias, you are a subject of an experiment. I will call you Mr. Mathias, and you will call me Dr. Hudson. Is that clear?"
He swallowed. "Clear, Dr. Hudson."
She opened the next set of doors, and didn't wait for him to catch up.
Monday, January 12, 2009
“My baby, my baby...!”
Jack Mathias watched his mother rock back and forth in anguish, clutching her chest, her head down, almost burrowing into her arms, as she cried and wailed, “My baby, my baby…”
He kept his hand on her shoulder as he looked up from her. The PPD suit watched her impassively, then caught Jack’s eye. “I’m very sorry, ma’am,” he said, but looked at Jack. “We are trying to recover his remains, but…”
Jack sighed, glanced at his sister Laura, who nodded and knelt down beside their mother. “Mom, mom…”
He stepped away, his hand lingering on his mother’s shoulder, as his sister’s arm replaced it. He nodded to the other side of the room, and the cop followed him.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the man said automatically.
Jack nodded once. He had gone through the death of his father, just four years before. Although it had been a long time since, the wound would never heal.
“We’re having a hard time recovering his remains. They feel once you’re a resident of the Isles, you’re automatically a citizen…”
“Who do we petition, what can we do?”
“We’re doing the best that we can right now through diplomatic channels, Mr. Mathias. But sometimes they hold the body for ransom.”
“Ransom? We don’t have any money or anything.”
“Or sometimes they hold it just because they can. They have a whole different way of thinking, sir, pure anarchy.”
“How do we know he’s…he’s…”
“We have photographs, sir, and his ID. Whoever found the body already scavenged anything worth value that might have been on him.”
“I’d…I want to see those photographs.”
The man looked up at him. “If you’d like to step outside…”
Jack glanced back at his sister, who was busy consoling their mother. “I’m going to call Riley,” Jack said. “I’ll be right back.”
They went outside to an unmarked car. Two uniformed policemen were leaning up against a cruiser. The man motioned to them, they nodded, got into their car. Jack didn’t pay attention to them after that, his eyes entirely on a manila envelope on the front seat of the car.
“This isn’t pretty, Mr. Mathias.”
“You said he was shot.”
“He was shot through the head, sir. From behind.”
Jack instinctively gulped. “I still think…I should.”
The man reached down and pulled out the manila envelope. Jack looked up to see the police cruiser now gone. The man slipped out some photographs, and all Jack could see at first were black splotches. Handing the photographs to Jack, the man leaned back against the car.
“They sometimes like to send us the gory ones,” said the suit, “the ones direct from the crime scene. And they really amplify the colors.”
“I can’t tell if it’s him or not,” Jack said. “His face…” He glanced up at the cop. “He has no face.”
“It’s him. We had something of his that proved it.”
“What?”
“Jack!” Laura called from the doorway of the house, “Mom’s asking after you.”
Jack handed the photographs back to the suit. “Do they have any idea..?”
“We only know it was a Destined One. That’s what Recluse calls those super-powered rogues who want to work for Arachnos.” The man dropped the photographs onto the front seat. “We’ll contact you when we get anything.”
Jack said nothing as he headed up the walkway to where Laura stood, holding open the screen door. “How is she doing?”
She asked at the same time, “What did he tell you?”
“He told me we might not have a body to bury.”
Jack Mathias watched his mother rock back and forth in anguish, clutching her chest, her head down, almost burrowing into her arms, as she cried and wailed, “My baby, my baby…”
He kept his hand on her shoulder as he looked up from her. The PPD suit watched her impassively, then caught Jack’s eye. “I’m very sorry, ma’am,” he said, but looked at Jack. “We are trying to recover his remains, but…”
Jack sighed, glanced at his sister Laura, who nodded and knelt down beside their mother. “Mom, mom…”
He stepped away, his hand lingering on his mother’s shoulder, as his sister’s arm replaced it. He nodded to the other side of the room, and the cop followed him.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the man said automatically.
Jack nodded once. He had gone through the death of his father, just four years before. Although it had been a long time since, the wound would never heal.
“We’re having a hard time recovering his remains. They feel once you’re a resident of the Isles, you’re automatically a citizen…”
“Who do we petition, what can we do?”
“We’re doing the best that we can right now through diplomatic channels, Mr. Mathias. But sometimes they hold the body for ransom.”
“Ransom? We don’t have any money or anything.”
“Or sometimes they hold it just because they can. They have a whole different way of thinking, sir, pure anarchy.”
“How do we know he’s…he’s…”
“We have photographs, sir, and his ID. Whoever found the body already scavenged anything worth value that might have been on him.”
“I’d…I want to see those photographs.”
The man looked up at him. “If you’d like to step outside…”
Jack glanced back at his sister, who was busy consoling their mother. “I’m going to call Riley,” Jack said. “I’ll be right back.”
They went outside to an unmarked car. Two uniformed policemen were leaning up against a cruiser. The man motioned to them, they nodded, got into their car. Jack didn’t pay attention to them after that, his eyes entirely on a manila envelope on the front seat of the car.
“This isn’t pretty, Mr. Mathias.”
“You said he was shot.”
“He was shot through the head, sir. From behind.”
Jack instinctively gulped. “I still think…I should.”
The man reached down and pulled out the manila envelope. Jack looked up to see the police cruiser now gone. The man slipped out some photographs, and all Jack could see at first were black splotches. Handing the photographs to Jack, the man leaned back against the car.
“They sometimes like to send us the gory ones,” said the suit, “the ones direct from the crime scene. And they really amplify the colors.”
“I can’t tell if it’s him or not,” Jack said. “His face…” He glanced up at the cop. “He has no face.”
“It’s him. We had something of his that proved it.”
“What?”
“Jack!” Laura called from the doorway of the house, “Mom’s asking after you.”
Jack handed the photographs back to the suit. “Do they have any idea..?”
“We only know it was a Destined One. That’s what Recluse calls those super-powered rogues who want to work for Arachnos.” The man dropped the photographs onto the front seat. “We’ll contact you when we get anything.”
Jack said nothing as he headed up the walkway to where Laura stood, holding open the screen door. “How is she doing?”
She asked at the same time, “What did he tell you?”
“He told me we might not have a body to bury.”