“I’m sick of it,” he said, clicking the power button on the remote and tossing it to the side. He had just spent an hour watching the news like he had promised himself he wouldn’t.
This was his first day alone at home for almost a decade and he was not going to waste it watching other people’s emergencies that were none of his business.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
Stephen got up and grabbed a soda from the fridge. He downed the can, barely tasting its sugary contents, before crumpling it and tossing it thoughtlessly over his shoulder. The can flew out his seventh-story window in a smooth arc and landed in the recycling bin across the street. People would probably start noticing if he kept tossing things like that… he would just move again when they did.
At the thought of moving, all of the items in Stephen’s apartment lifted into the air reflexively, ready for the command to pack themselves, but he shook his head.
“False alarm. We’re not going anywhere,” and all the items returned to their places. “At least, not yet,” he mumbled to himself as he grabbed his windbreaker and left the apartment.
He’d like to pretend that he went on walks for the exercise, but in reality, he couldn’t stop watching over these people, these people he spent more than a decade of his life trying to save.
So he walked the sidewalk, ignoring his instincts buzzing about the potential fender-benders, budding brawls, and dozens of other dangers or misdeeds the people around him might get themselves into. The warnings never stopped, no matter how many times he told himself that he was retired.
He couldn’t change the way his brain worked, but he could stop listening. So that’s what he did. He just walked past as the little blue Jetta crunched slowly into the silver Elantra. Though whenever he felt a real issue brewing, he would certainly call the local authorities.
He’d given a lot of tips lately.
Passing a deli, Stephen saw a guy kneel down and propose to his ecstatic girlfriend… well, fiancé. He shook his head. How do they go on living when everything is falling apart?
Stephen turned the corner and entered the park. He looked over at the guy who was still selling corn dogs at that same little cart that on several occasions had been blown up, torched, smashed, crumpled and exiled to a different dimension… now that was a crazy fight.
The city had been reduced to rubble, what, seven times now? Somehow they kept on living, but Stephen couldn’t do it anymore; he was done.
He bought a corn dog for old-time’s sake.
Walking up to the bank, he took out a twenty from the ATM and left without sparing a second glance. He hated banks; they always hummed with negative energy. One couple would be losing their house and begging for more time, an old woman would be denied her dead husband’s trust, somebody else would be lying about their taxes, and all that was on a good day. Banks were not a great place for a superhero to spend a lot of time—if he valued his sanity.
Well, ex-superhero.
Nearing the laundromat Stephen felt some mob activity in the back of his mind. He only paused long enough to roll his eyes. Laundering money… in a laundromat? Very original guys. He took out his burner cell and called Detective Kelly. He was supposed to use the tipline, but Detective Kelly always listened to him, even when the evidence he provided was rarely actionable. That used to be where I stepped in… He squashed that thought down as the phone rang
“Detective Kendra Kelly. How may I help you?”
“Hey Ken, I got something.”
“Hello, Einton… I would ask you politely not to call me Ken, thank you.”
“Sure, sure. I got mob activity down at the laundromat.”
“Tell me you’re joking.”
“No, it’s for real.
She made a sound in the back of her throat. “Have you checked into it at all or…”
“Or am I still content to let the civil authorities do their fine work? Yeah, I just got that feeling. And thought I should report it.”
The detective sighed; she couldn’t overtly condone vigilante activities. Though she had done as much on several occasions. “Alright, I’ll have my team look into it,” she said, obvious exhaustion in her voice.
“Thanks. Keep safe out there.” Stephen went to hang up, but the detective spoke again.
“Einton, wait—”
He had never heard pleading in her voice before. “Uh, sure.”
She took a moment, then spoke. “The boys are really feeling the weight of your hiatus… morale is pretty low, and… I think that things are getting worse.”
It must’ve taken everything Detective Kelly had to admit that the force was struggling without his help. “… Look, Ken—”
She cleared her throat at him, but he continued.
“I thought that if I was faster than the bad guys, stronger, smarter, kinder… or something, that I could make this city safe. But it only got worse. Another bad guy always shows up and I’m done with the arms race. I’m sorry but it had to happen someday.”
Every ounce of his heroic being squirmed and cringed at the selfishness and pessimism streaming from his mouth, but he meant what he said.
He heard her swallow, pause, then answer. Is she crying? “I understand…” she swallowed again. “But if you have the ability, doesn’t that give you the response-ability?”
That had been his motto for years.
“I’m a person Kendra. I still get choices,” and he hung up on her.
That’s not his motto anymore.
Stephen looked at the burner cell for a moment then placed the bulky device into his pocket. He didn’t much feel like walking anymore, so he turned toward home.
He walked past the corn dog guy again in the park and noticed a little girl dart behind some boulders. The runaway alarms blared in his brain and he reached for his phone out of habit. His hand stopped halfway to his pocket. He didn’t want to have to face Detective Kelly again. He sighed and headed over to the boulders.
Rounding the large rocks, he saw a girl no more than eleven, crouched in a crevice with a unicorn backpack, a teddy bear and a can of tuna. They never think very far ahead, do they? He shook his head and called to her: “Hey there, are you lost?” The girl shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks as she crossed her arms against the cool air. “Where are your parents?” She covered her mouth with a finger in a shushing motion.
“I don’t want them to find me,” she said in a timid voice. “I’m in trouble.”
“Freezing to death is way worse. Here, take my jacket.” He took off his windbreaker and beckoned to her with it. She looked suspicious but the promised warmth won out. Slowly, checking over her shoulder, she left the crevice to sit next to him. “So, that must be some serious trouble, if it made you run away.”
She looked down at her can of tuna, holding her bear in the crook of her arm. “I got a bad grade. Daddy studied with me for hours and I still failed…” tears welled up in her eyes again. “My big sisters are so smart, they never study and they get A’s and B’s and I study real hard and I get D’s, and F’s.”
“That’s no reason to run away; you won’t get in trouble for doing the best you can.”
She squinted up at him. “You don’t get it! I try my hardest and I still fail! My parents have my sisters; they don’t need me.”
He shook his head and looked in her fervent eyes. “That’s not how family works; you care for each other no matter what. It isn’t right to leave your family; they need you.”
She squinted again and leaned in closer like she had a secret. “No, what wouldn’t be right is if my older sister got tired of getting A’s and ran away. At least my running away makes sense.
Stephen tilted his head. “What?”
She smiled knowingly, seeming to age a decade with one look. “I mean, running away when you always win, just because the work gets harder wouldn’t be right. If you have that ability doesn’t that give you the response-ability?”
Stephen started at hearing his old motto and looked at the girl again. She hadn’t just seemed to age a decade. The woman sitting beside him now was different in every conceivable way from what the little girl had been a moment ago. She had long dark hair flowing over her shoulders and her white blouse was tucked into a pair of dazzling red jeans.
He should’ve known.
“Lucine. It’s been a while.”
She winked at him. “Too long, Einton. You never call anymore!”
“When did I ever call?”
She laughed. “Oh, don’t be touchy just because I tricked you.” She was the only person who could fool his internal alarm system. He had never been able to figure out how.
“I’m not going by Einton anymore. You can call me Stephen.”
She raised her eyebrows. “No more secret identity? Well, well, well, you are serious about this whole retirement thing.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me; we can run away together. Just let me pack a couple aliases and I’ll be ready to go.”
Stephen shook his head refusing to rise to her flirtation. “What are you actually here for?”
She pouted, pursing her lips that become violently red in a split second. “You’re right of course.” Her accent switched to one that Stephen couldn’t quite place, Northern Europe? “I’d say I was surprised that Miss Kendra Goodie-two-shoes Kelly hadn’t told you, but then she was always too kind to say anything she knew would force you to change your mind…” she batted her lashes over a hand fan she didn’t have before.
She must have really big news if she’s putting on this much of a show. “Okay, I’ll bite. What is it?”
Her face lit up as she clapped, the fan gone once again. “Oh good, I do love it when you play along. Well, everyone on the council is in a tizzy. It seems that your old friend is coming to town sometime soon…”
A tight feeling of dread crept up from Stephen’s chest into his throat. Every other alarm ringing dully in the back of his head was nothing compared to the feeling building inside of him.
“You don’t mean… him, do you?”
She smiled a feline smile. “Who might you be referring to?”
“You know who I mean.”
Her eyes focused in on him. “I need you to say it.” She leaned in.
He could just walk away, not give Lucine the satisfaction of seeing him squirm, but he had to know. “…Wraith Bana.”
Lucine’s look darkened, her playfulness swallowed up by fear. “Yes, Einton… I don’t know how, but he’s back. I’ve heard it everywhere… this is the first time I’ve appeared as myself in weeks.”
Stephen put his arm around her. For all of her tricks, she was one of his only friends.
“But… he was dead.”
She nodded slowly looking off into nothing.
He continued: “Detective Kelly knows already?”
She nodded again.
“… Then I guess the proper authorities have been made aware.” He got up to leave.
“You’re not going to leave all these people, this whole city, to die just because you’re too tired,” she said matter of factly.
He turned back. “Watch me,” and he walked around the boulder. Rounding the corner he found her standing in front of him, impossibly fast.
Her illusions could be really frustrating.
“It’s who you are, Einton.” She flicked her hair angrily. “I only offered to run away with you because you never would.” A look of what almost seemed like sadness flashed across her eyes. “So, when are you going to do what you know is right?” She put her fists on her hips.
“Lucine, I’m serious!”
“AND SO IS WRAITH!” For a moment she towered over him, her hair streaming from her face like flames. She returned to normal. “Come on, Einton! You’re a superhero! Better than most, and the city needs you. I don’t care what you call yourself; I don’t care how hard it is on you. Your motto is still true no matter how much you want to ignore it.” Then she disappeared like she was never there.
Stephen shouted after her but it was no use. The corn dog vendor looked over at him startled. “She always does this! She gets me mad then vanishes.” The guy shrugged and wheeled his trolley away quickly.
Wraith Bana… why’d it have to be him? Anyone would be better than him. Images of destruction and chaos sped behind Stephen’s eyes. Years of storms and unbridled fear breeding in every home and every heart.
He had barely defeated him last time and things were never the same after. Could he really put himself through that again?
If you have the ability… you have the response-ability…
Stephen’s face screwed up in frustration but he pulled out his cell anyway. He dialed the familiar number.
“Hey, Ken… I heard that my old friend is back in town.”
“That’s what we hear…” she replied.
“Well, I don’t think it would be polite of me to not at least take him to lunch.”
He could hear the smile in her voice as she answered: “Oh?”
“Yeah… but I’ve got to make some other calls, so. I’ll catch you later.”
“Not if I catch you first, Einton,” and she hung up.
He shook his head, an old familiar smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He searched his directory and hit ‘dial.’
“He’s back… and I’m going to need a favor.”
To be continued…