Hero (20 page)

"Nice jacket. Do they make you wear it all the time, even when you're not delivering pizzas?"

Scarlett tugged at the dirty, long sleeves of her jacket. It made me uncomfortable to watch Galaxy Girl strike a nerve, even in someone I didn't like very much. Scarlett's jacket was always wrapped around her like she had nothing else to wear, and it had the stains to prove it.

Scarlett lunged at Galaxy Girl, but Golden Boy intercepted her at full speed before her nails could gouge the color contacts out of Galaxy Girl's eyes. Golden Boy yanked Scarlett by the waist over to our side for a huddle. The twins moved on.

"Hey, Star Girl, I'm gonna take our flag when we win and shove it so far up your—!"

"C'mon, people," Golden Boy cut her off. "All we need to do is find their flag, bring it to our base, and we're back in this thing. Let's do it!"

We put our hands in the huddle with a go-team gesture. I looked down at Ruth's old withered fingers, Scarlett's bloodred nails, Golden Boy's tightly gloved fists, and Larry's hand, held safely away from the rest of ours. Go team.

Scarlett was seething, and the words sprung out her mouth like flames shooting off her tongue. "Let's crucify them."

We were down to the last five minutes of the game, and only four of us remained: me, Scarlett, and the Galaxy Twins. Ruth had been the second to go, but she didn't seem to mind much, because she sat on the sidelines and introduced Larry to her favorite cold remedy, a mixture of lemonade, a cough drop, and whatever was in her flask. Golden Boy had been a surprise victim of the Twins' subterfuge. He'd been sneaking around their territory, no superspeed at all, when Galaxy Girl accidentally-on-purpose created a miniconstellation to draw him out of the shadows, where her brother easily tagged him out. We tried to call a foul since she'd used her powers, but she lied and said it was just the reflection from the sun off her Fendi bag. Warrior Woman judged it fair play and had us continue.

But then Scarlett just got plain reckless. She ventured into their territory without any sort of plan whatsoever, calling out, "All right, who wants some?" Then she sent out an energy blast from her hands and burned Galaxy Girl's Fendi bag to a crisp. In the process she left a red, stinging mark on Galaxy Girl's naked belly. Scarlett was tagged out in a second, but didn't seem to care.

Meanwhile, I'd been busy sneaking around their turf, and I finally located their flag. Galaxy Guy was guarding it in a thicket by the river. He bent over the stream and hummed a tune and studied his reflection. He flashed a series of smiles and poses for himself. I tried to creep forward silently to grab the flag while he was preoccupied, but I stepped over a log and broke a twig in two with a loud snap.

"Hey, sis, I was thinking about getting my teeth bleached again. Think I need it?" Galaxy Guy studied his smile in the reflection. "Sis?"

He turned around, but I was already taking off with the flag. I ran as fast as I could. This was just another sprint, and even though I'd been giving it my best all day, I could still put on some extra pepper when we needed it most.

Galaxy Guy was catching up to me, and I knew I had to kick into high gear. I dodged a few of his teammates effortlessly, my basketball moves coming in handy. The crowd was cheering my name, and I saw all the League lined up out of the corners of my eyes as I raced toward our side. Galaxy Guy used just enough of his stellar overdrive to make up for lost time without tipping off that he was using his powers. In a few seconds he'd tag me out if I didn't do something.

Then I looked forward and saw Uberman by the finish line, waiting with a dazzling smile on his face. I couldn't imagine anything better than winning the game in front of him and putting our team back in good standing. The cheers echoed in my ears, and it wasn't like the goofy cheerleader squeals of a basketball game. This was different, these were the heroes I'd grown up admiring my whole life, and they were cheering my name.

But Galaxy Guy was right behind me, and I could feel him reaching over to my shoulder, inches away from snatching back his flag. The cheers grew louder, and I focused hard on Uberman's crystal blue eyes and his radiant smile, and made my legs kick me ahead faster and faster. And then I saw Galaxy Girl fly into space in front of me. It was a clear violation of the no-powers rule, but I knew that if I didn't get the flag over to my side, she'd find some reason to talk her way into victory, and I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let my team down. She swooped down, low enough to dive-tackle me. I mustered every last iota of energy in my thighs and jumped above her as high as I could, like I was in my third and final try at the long jump at the Olympics and this one was for the gold.

I heard the crowd gasp and collectively hold their breath as my trajectory sent me high up in the air. I barely cleared Galaxy Girl, and I landed on the other side in a tumble and rolled over to the flagpole holder without spearing myself. Galaxy Girl ended up connecting headlong with her brother, who chipped his front tooth on her satellite when they collided. My forehead smacked the leather shin of Uberman's boot, and I looked up.

"Hi, there." Uberman looked down at me and grinned. "Looks like you're the winner."

I popped up on my feet and lifted the flag into the air. The crowd went wild, and it felt great. Even Scarlett and Golden Boy were whooping and hollering. Everyone in the world should have at least one moment in their lifetime when an entire crowd of people cheers them on for something, one moment to feel exceptional, one moment that lets you know you really do mean something in the universe.

"Uh, you still have to put the flag in the holder, you know," Uberman reminded me, never breaking his smile. Of course I did. I played it up for the audience. I gripped the flagpole with both my hands, held it high above my head, and swung it around. The cheers grew louder. I went to plunge the pole into the holder, Beowulf delivering the final blow to Grendel, and swung down with all my might.

The flag never reached the holder.

A lone, impossibly strong hand grabbed my wrist in a vise grip and stopped the flag in midair. I looked up, startled. It was my father.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DAD'S EYES GLARED, and his voice shook with anger.

"Get home. Now."

I swallowed and my heart caught in my throat.

I stared into his eyes; they were bloodshot and wild.

"I know everything." His hand trembled with fury around the flagpole. The crowd of heroes around me stood in stunned silence. I'm not sure they recognized him yet.

"I found the pictures."

Out of all the times I'd seen him fly into a rage, I'd never seen him this angry. It scared me more than when I was a kid and he'd grabbed the thick leather belt, snapped it loud to instill fear.

My mouth was open, but no words came out. I didn't know what to say to make this better. I looked around and saw my team gathered nearby. Uberman looked on with curiosity and then stepped in.

"Excuse me, sir, why don't we escort you both to our reception area, where we can talk this out." He put a calming hand on Dad's shoulder.

Dad's head whipped around and he pushed Uberman away, the way a drunk in a bar would start a fight with someone who didn't see it coming. I heard a few gasps in the crowd. Warrior Woman was on us in a flash, Silver Bullet and the Spectrum close behind.

"I don't know how you got in here, but this is a private function. You are not welcome!" Warrior Woman turned my father around by the shoulder, ready to kick him out.

I saw the three heroes' faces drop and their eyes widen as they recognized my father, years older and still wearing the factory uniform from his shift. A tiny word of recognition escaped Silver Bullet's lips.

"Hal?"

Dad spoke to Warrior Woman through clenched teeth.

"Get your hands off me, and give me back my son"

He swung her arm off his shoulder by her golden bracelet. If she hadn't been a demi-immortal, he would have dislocated her shoulder. His stare was still fixed squarely on me.

"We'll talk about this at home."

I looked around, mortified. A wave of whispers spread through the crowd, and I saw Golden Boy explaining to Miss Scarlett exactly who this middle-aged man in front of them was. I saw Scarlett mouth, "No shit!" Ruth stood back from the crowd, her face lowered, and I wondered if she'd seen this coming. And if she had, why hadn't she warned me? I stared at her for a few moments, hoping to make eye contact, but she never looked up.

"Dad, hold on, let me explain!" I didn't know what I was going to say, but I had to try something. I'd worked too hard to lose everything now. Uberman was piecing together who Dad was. I suddenly understood the lure of my mother's power. All I wanted to do was disappear.

Dad grabbed me roughly by the bicep and started to drag me toward the door. I knew my arm would be badly bruised tomorrow, but I was numb to the pain. All eyes were on me, and I wanted time to stop so I could run away. I was humiliated, disciplined like a little boy in front of the entire League and all its tryout squads. He yanked at me so hard that I stumbled over my feet and fell toward the ground, but he kept his grip on my arm so I didn't hit the floor. I skidded along the ground as Dad pulled me toward the exit. I wanted to yell for him to stop, that he was hurting me.

"Hal."

Everyone looked up to see Justice lower himself from the sky and hover over the ground in between us and the exit.

"Let's go someplace where we can talk about this privately." Justice glanced at me with a look of sympathy. "Please."

My father's jaw clenched with rage, he shook ever so slightly, and I thought he might explode.

"How dare you tell me what to do with my son." Tiny lines of spit flew from Dad's mouth at Justice. "You."

"Dad, please ..." I begged him to stop.

"Thom, you shouldn't have lied to your father, but that was your choice." Justice remained calm. He held his hand up like a teacher cautioning a hyper child to take a time-out. "Hal, think about what you're doing. Think about your son for a minute." Justice actually landed his two feet on the ground in front of my father. He placed his hands on his shoulders. I couldn't tell what he was doing, if he was maybe using his powers to quell Dad's rage.

"Listen to me, Hal. He's good. He's got a lot of potential." I watched my Dad listen with his best poker face. Totally still. Maybe Justice was getting through. "He could really be something, Hal."

I watched Dad and tried to figure out what he was thinking. If he could be turning a corner in his brain. Maybe he was beginning to believe there was a place for his son on the very team he so hated.

And then the unthinkable happened.

Dad slugged Justice. Square in the jaw, an old-fashioned right hook, something straight out of the boxing ring. The force of the blow knocked Justice over, and he stumbled backward. The entire crowd gasped. I didn't turn around, but I heard the commotion of murmurs behind me.

Justice looked up at Dad from the ground and rubbed his chin. All of us knew a mere punch couldn't harm him physically, but still, no one had ever seen him take a sucker punch straight to the face like that. It was a shock to everyone, and silence filled the room as people waited to see what he would do next.

Dad stood over him, fury in his eyes, his feet poised to move, his arms held up like vipers ready to strike. Justice slowly moved to get up.

And then I grabbed Dad's arm.

"Stop it, Dad!"

I knew better than to touch Dad when he was in one of his combat rages. The minute I grabbed his arm, I triggered his natural defense, a reaction as instinctive as his desire to protect me. He whipped around and grabbed me by the collar and pinned me against the wall with his fist raised. I saw his nostrils flare, and a network of blood vessels bulged out from his forehead, seething red.

I closed my eyes and held up my arms in defense—-not that they would have done much good against a crushing blow from him. I waited for the impact, but it didn't come. When I finally gathered the courage to open my eyes, I looked through my fingers and saw my dad.

His paternal instinct had won out, just barely. His chest heaved with effort as he tried to breathe himself into submission. I looked in his eyes and instead of rage I saw fear.

Then I scanned each and every face in the crowd, from Golden Boy to the Galaxy Twins to Warrior Woman to Uberman to Justice to Ruth—a guilty and pained expression on her face—to every last person who thought they could one day live up to the title of hero. I felt their collective look bear down upon my father. That look reminded me of the way he'd stared at me after that basketball game where we all pretended not to hear the kid who called me the gay guy. Although their reactions varied slightly according to personality, there was one common denominator.

They all looked at my father with contempt.

He relaxed his fighting pose and tried to hold his head high. He looked at me and slowly reached out his hand.

"Let's go, Thorn," he said softly.

I ran out of the room and didn't look back.

It had started to rain, so I hitchhiked home. It was the first and only time I'd ever done anything that stupid. The old guy in the car seemed nice enough and tried to strike up a conversation, but I just watched the windshield wipers go back and forth as they squeaked against the glass. If I opened my mouth to say anything, I was afraid I would cry or scream out in frustration.

He let me out by the highway exit near our neighborhood. I walked the rest of the way in the rain, and I couldn't tell if it was warm or cold outside. I pushed open the front door and ran upstairs, two at a time, and stopped in the hallway. I looked at the trail of pictures that led from my room to his.

I reached down and carefully picked up each picture, tears streaming from my eyes. He'd ripped a few, crumpled some others, but I vowed to straighten them out and tape them up and fix them later. They were scattered all over his bedroom; he must have thrown them at the wall in his rage. I reached under his bed and found some more. One had even made it all the way under the closet door.