True Heroes (9 page)
Carol was now interested as an overweight man sprinted with tear-filled eyes through ruins that had surely been full buildings just days before. The man careened between the tan and rust remnants as sand and bodies and brick were flying everywhere. The wall of guards had guns raised and were obviously yelling at him to stop, but he didn’t. They started shooting dozens of bullets his way. He just kept running—bullet holes and blood could be seen now—through the curtain of naked lead, forcing the guards back and to reload. The camera view swung around so that the man’s family could be seen just behind the retreating guards, reaching and crawling from under the boots of two sentries, but the closer the running man got, the more bullets pierced him. The guns clicked on empty again and toppled him forward, somehow managing to land on all fours. As he stayed there and breathed as much air as he could, the anchor came back, “From our estimates and slow motion replays, we count that he was shot around forty-two times at this point. But look.”
The man began to crawl forward on his hands and knees to his crying, wailing family. Blood was dripping from his mouth as he lifted his head—he actually had the strength to lift his neck—and continued to crawl. The guards split without bothering to attack him anymore. They knew he didn’t have much longer, but he didn’t need much longer. The shaky camera zoomed in as he crawled painfully slowly to his outstretched family whom was desperately trying to break away from the hands holding them back. The short woman and even smaller boy tried so hard to reach as far as they could as he crawled.
“Go.”
Carol turned, shocked, as she heard Caleb cheer on the man, now within a few feet of their frantic fingers. Caleb stared on intently as if this man was trying to reach for his own hand. She turned back to the screen, and almost gasped in excitement as he was within inches, but a man walked to the dying one’s side. Staring down at him, the rebel produced his sidearm and fired a round directly into the man’s back. “Oh my god, he’s still going for them.” The hovering rebel began to unload the entire clip into the brave man, but he would not stop. As the sidearm finally clicked on empty, the camera man tried to get around to the front, to see if their hands had met, but they hadn’t. The shaky camera focused at just the right angle to plaster the image of his hand fallen just a few inches short of his family, who were doing everything they could to claw and drag and fill that void that just couldn’t be filled. The fallen man’s face came on the screen in a frozen mask of fear before the camera man was run off by one of the men, leaving Carol only a moment to process all of the events at once.
She turned away and wiped away tears on the brims of her eyes before turning over to the movie channel. She glanced up at Caleb, but was shocked at his state. He just stared at his open hands. Her urge to ask him what he was thinking was quelled quickly simply because she could read his red eyes. She thought to herself exactly what he must’ve thought, ‘If a man has that kind of strength, then what does that say about me? If he can cheat death, for just a few more seconds of life, can I stop it?’ Carol grabbed one of his hands and dragged it over her shoulder to embrace him forcefully.
- - -
Caleb took a huge bite of his jelly sandwich and tried not to drip any over his open notebook. His hand had been quick enough to grab an errant glob before it struck one of the important words on his page. The other recluse students weaved around one another with stomachs full from lunch and minds trying to put off the ringing of the late bell as long as possible while he slurped the gel from his palm. Being the closest thing the school had to a playground, the area about the size of half a football endzone was used for anything from athletics to group gossip sessions. A few passing girls who used to have a crush on him looked on with shocked expressions before walking away quickly. ‘Eh no big loss. It’s more entertaining than distressing. If they changed their opinions because of some different clothes and colors then I’m sure they weren’t interested in the beginning.’ He paid them no more attention as he returned to his training. On his lap sat an open copy of a Batman comic and his notebook, where he was writing down everything he saw. ‘All the heroic traits I can see, no filter. Brave, smart, idealistic, persuasive…. I wish there was something else I could use. Nobody’s written the “Guide to Heroism,” maybe I’ll get on that someday. I’m three notebooks in with random words, and about a tenth of the way through my comic collection. I guess this is my senior project….’
Caleb sighed as the late bell rang and he gathered his things. His mind wandered to Carol. ‘Three weeks already: what a flash. I wonder what she has planned for the night. I don’t see myself objecting to anything, as long as comic books aren’t involved. I’m glad Mom made me keep them around; those little timewasters ended up being important after all.’ The stairs back into the building were cleared in a few gallops, but Caleb didn’t see Hackard until he’d almost run into the man. “Late again, Caleb?”
Behind the rotund Principal was an entire crowd of students rushing to class like they would a Siren’s wail, but—‘Of course,’—only Caleb was stopped. “You’re not making me any earlier, Principal.”
The man stepped aside, but Caleb soon saw another obstacle in his way as Stephen came walking up beside him further down the way. “Hey goth freak! Late are we?”
Caleb sighed heavily and didn’t bother stopping. ‘Man-child or not, he’s never been worth my time. He thinks athletic rough-housing is an achievement and it somehow gives him dominion over everyone else. What a farce. No talent makes anyone above anyone else. It’s just another quirk.’ He readjusted his notebooks under his arm before turning and saying, “I am, as a matter of fact. Aren’t you? Oh, well, I guess elementary school does have a different schedule than high school. Wouldn’t wanna miss Duck-Duck-Goose time though.”
Stephen stampeded forward and caught Caleb by the collar of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. Caleb was small compared to the football star lifting him by the throat. ‘The behemoth doesn’t know he’s playing with fire, though. A one-hundred-and-seventy-pound frame can be lifted by plenty of people, right up until my patience runs out. Then he’ll hit the floor faster than my feet.’ “Say something else you skinny little bastard! I’ll snap you in half and ship you home to your bitch mom!”
Caleb’s hand twitched into a fist, but any action was stopped as Principal Hackard came speed-walking to stop anymore from happening. ‘The old man wouldn’t know what to do if the school paper had the words “Caleb,” “knocked out,” or “the star line backer” appeared in any combination. Your chances are slim to none of that headline giving you adulation, Stephen. You have no idea what I could do to you.’ “Let that boy down; not even you get to touch Caleb, football star or not. Can’t have my two shining examples duking it out when they should be in class.”
Stephen just shot a “whatever” over his shoulder and walked away with his sole groupie chuckling at his side. ‘Even his cronies are abandoning ship. He’s down from three regulars to just one.’ Caleb smirked at the principal before walking to his philosophy classroom, where the teacher was already into her lesson. He quietly took his seat and barely avoided his teacher’s deadly-fast stare. He paid his daily homage to the poster of a donkey with a profound mustache hanging on the wall above him with one hand and took out his notebook with the other. Mrs. Drit suddenly broke away from her lesson and said over her shoulder, “See me after class, Caleb.” ‘And I’m the one with the superpowers…. Reason number one why she’s by far my most interesting teacher: applicable personality. She’s naturally a smartass that relies on personality habits and quirks to derive pattern and substance from people, which is why she finds me so interesting, I imagine. She knows I have very few normal habits and a bounty of quirks. Number two: her career choice. Her looks alone could’ve guaranteed her any modeling gig she wanted, and her mind alone could’ve had her at any sort of think tank position she’d wanted, and yet, here she stands. Maybe she isn’t bulimic enough for the spotlight, but she seems chiseled in all the right places to me.
‘I guess if I was a girl, I’d be nearly identical to her: smart out of necessity, messed up in some ways but excellent in others, always take pride in my body and the reactions it creates. Well, she may regret that last one after the kid last year…never really got the point of a restraining order with the invention of the telescope or binoculars. Even after that, she’s still casual in a formal environment. Always makes me smile that sense of perseverance. Those rectangular glasses on her nose aren’t rosy or foggy; those yellow eyes aren’t territorial or inviting; the softness of her face not warm or cold. She simply is and simply presents herself as such, not responsible for the reactions of others, and is perfectly content with leaving what happened as it lies. What a life.’
Caleb’s mind finally began to tune into the lesson just as she began one of her angry rants. “So, to make up for the dreadful test scores, we’re not having any more tests until the final. Instead, I’ll be giving your little minds the opportunity to come up with your own topic and to teach the class. Bring in a topic idea and enough discussion questions to last the whole period. This will, obviously, represent most of your grade for the year. Fail it and, well, do the math.”
She passed out the tests, Caleb vaguely noting the “A+” at the top of his paper before shoving it into a notebook, and the bell sounded again. ‘Didn’t think I was that late.’ Another stampede ensued, leaving Caleb to slowly rise from his seat and, paying homage again to the donkey, then approach Mrs. Drit’s shabby desk. The eraser in her hands ceased its duties and she turned to smile at him. “Ah my semi-star student. Why is it that your genius and your common sense have such a large gap between them?”
“What can I say? Outside influences do their best to keep them apart.”
She sat behind her desk and didn’t bother to smile at his sarcasm. ‘Reason three: her remarkable ability to completely control her emotions. She could feel with the situation or drop a cold stare on a moment’s notice in such a whiplashing fashion. I guess it comes in handy dealing with the morose and unforgiving crowd high-schoolers are known to be. But still, that kind of ability doesn’t come from teaching alone. What happened to you Mrs. Drit?’ The glasses he’d admired earlier were set on her desk and a sigh escaped her beautiful lips. “Honestly, I couldn’t care less that you were late today. I’ll just assume you were held up by something beyond your control, and you’re one of the only ones in this class who has a grip on the material.” Caleb shifted his pack. “I still have my reasons for keeping you here so don’t get too antsy. You're on free period now right?”
“Yeah, but I did have some stuff to do….”
A smile finally broke through her face and her yellow eyes seemed suddenly happy. “I promise I’ll try not to keep you the whole time. A question begs answering, though: what do you plan to do after you get out of this place?”
‘Don’t say be a super hero.’ He darted his thoughts away from the comics in his backpack and came up with a more traditional answer. “College I think. Somewhere. Not exactly sure where or for what yet.”
“Getting a jump start on procrastination, aren’t we? Not the best course of action, but I’m sure you’re smart enough to already know that. How are your speeches for debate team and mock court coming?”
‘This is silly. I’m not in the mood to small talk and hiding from the real reason she has me here.’ “Finished them both when I sat down and worked on them for ten minutes.” Their eyes met. ‘Fiery butterflies…why do I have that feeling?’ “Do you wanna get to the point of why I’m really here?”
A larger smile curled the corners of her lips, but it disappeared just as quickly and an ashamed look came over her face as if she was truly ashamed of it even coming out at all. ‘Why?’ “Well,” she paused. ‘She’s never at a loss for words. Stranger and stranger.’ “I know it’s your senior year and you’re already involved in the majority of the clubs here at school, but I was wondering if you wanted to add one more to the list.”
‘This is a conundrum…. I’m already giving up some clubs and taking up this one would make me seem hypocritical, but she’s acting really weird, and this club could be a good way to find out why. Fiery butterflies are flapping ash into my esophagus….’ “Tell me about it.”
“Well,” again she paused to fold her hands and assume a professional demeanor, “it would be a mostly in school group, with a few meetings taking place at my house, and as far as activities go, we would…engage in discussions over events in the world and maybe hold a few public shows. We’d have group dinners every now and then and other little…rewards for participation.”
The look she gave him now wasn’t like any other he’d gotten from a teacher. ‘That’s the weirdest thing by far. Her cheeks are higher to accommodate her sharpened eyes, both of which being subservient clues above the slight part of her slender lips…. I bet I could almost hear her dense breath without using my power…she’s nervous. No flushing or heightened pulse that I can tell, so no embarrassment anymore. She must really want me to join this club. What the…get out of here power—nobody summoned you. And tell those butterflies to go away too. Relax slugger. Let’s see where this goes.’ “It sounds a little boring to me.”
