Tales of Worrow Volume II

by Darren Worrow

  “Genetically? Cloned? Super-what now?” he stumbled upon.

  “Super-heroine,” she explained, “a female superhero.”

  Remarkableman looked very confused as if a thousand clockwork cogs were turning in his mind, then he laughed out as loud as he could, holding the stair’s railing to steady himself, “A female…..ha-ha-ha, a female what now?!! Oh my, that is funny! But I am sorry, the fun is over, I have a criminal to catch up with, run along now…” and with this Remarkableman pointed his right arm to the sky and with a swish of his cloak he shot into the air, smashing through the stairwell windows and into the sky above.

  3.

  “Just what the hell went wrong in there Agent Gen?” asked a tall man in a suit.

  In the confines of a top secret military base hundreds of feet underground they stood around in a small round room, a few seats were occupied by the country’s top personal, the President of the USA just one of them. The tall man paced the room, up and down, phasing his looks to the floor and then back to Gen.

  She stood to attention, not distraught by his patrolling. “I was on the objective, took out the first sniper then this bozo turns up in a spandex yellow suit like an overweight banana and messes it all up sir,” she half-heartedly explains.

  “An overweight banana Gen, and you expect us to believe that?” he asks.

  A man behind a computer screen interrupts, “There was no one else present in the building at the time commander; we secluded the area…….”

  “How do you explain this Agent Gen?” asked the commander, pausing his marching and staring at her with an inquisitive anger.

  “I don’t know where he came from sir, he just appeared in a flash of light,” she explained.

  “We have the sickest criminal minds operating all their potential on assassinating the President Miss Gen, your mission objective was stop the assassins in the tower block, it was the most prestigious fragment of the protection agenda and you pull a stunt like this; are you feeling alright Agent Gen?”

  She sighed, “Medically I am in top form sir, I only feel slightly disgraced that this went so wrong but what can I say, if you send in some fucking idiot superhero……”

  A tall coloured man stood up from the back, “I can assure you Miss Gen,” he uttered in a smooth, important sounding tone but fiercely chewing gum, “we enlisted no such person….”

  “I am sorry Mr President,” she bowed her head, “someone ordered a bogus superhero, perhaps there was a fancy dress party going on downstairs or something, I don’t know, all I know is he was there, he was broad, bashful and a compete and utter prick.”

  The President whispered something in the ear of the man next to him; Gen knew it was the head of the CIA. Then he returned to address her again, “did he give a name at all?” he asked her with a sympathetic tone which came over fake.

  “Yes he did Sir, but you will not believe me if I…..”

  “Try me,” he added.

  “It was, well, it was Remarkableman Sir, see, I told you…..”

  Suddenly the wall on the far side of the room crashed inwards, the breezeblocks turning into sand and creating a large dusty cloud, everyone gasped. Gen took aim with her laser and the men around the outside wall did the same with their pistols. “Hold your fire!” demanded the President. As the dust began to wane a figure of a man could be seen protruding from the cloud, he had another, smaller man tucked under his arm and he spoke in a deep and corny heroic voice, “did someone call for me?!”

  “Who are you?” demanded the Commander.

  “I am Remarkableman! Here to save the world from, well, from anyone that wants to ruin it I guess,” he proclaimed, throwing the man tucked under his arms onto the floor, “I believe this is the man you were looking for, now, if you will excuse me the streets are not safe without me!” He turned and began to fly off.

  Gen gave a deep and disgraceful sigh, rubbing her head with embarrassment.

  The President stood up, “Hold on Remarkableman!” he requested and with an exhalation of despair the superhero stopped and turned to face him.

  “I do not actively engage with the police authorities, I simply deposit the criminals and leave in a mysterious and triumphant flash,” Remarkableman uttered.

  “You fucking imbecile,” whispered Gen, leaning into him, “not when the President of the USA is present!”

  The superhero looked stunned, “he is? Oh well,” he walked over to the Commander, a white middle aged American and shook the man’s hand firmly, “It is a pleasure to meet you Mr President!”

  “I am not the President,” he informed to his amusement, “he is here,” he pointed out Barack Obama who stood smiling with his hand outstretched.

  Remarkableman took one look at him and then flashed another at every other man in the room, trying to sus out their conviction in the observation. Then he spoke to them all, “Ok,” he said in a sarcastic tone, slowly backing off, “I think it’s time I was out of here, I thought this was a military institution, not a mental one.”

  Gen began to suspect what he was thinking by her experience of his track record so far, she did not think he deserved advice but she felt it necessary to inform him anyway and so, with a gentle whisper in his ear she said, “That really is the President, banana-brain.”

  “But,” stumbled the superhero, “that is impossible, he’s a Negro.”

  Gen sighed, “what year are you living in?” she asked him.

  “Don’t be so stupid young lady,” said the superhero, “I am fully aware that this is 1939.”

  “Well, there is your problem right there bozo,” she informed him, “you are 75 years out of date, its 2014.”

  A sudden shock flushed through Remarkableman, he looked away with an expression of sickness, “Of course,” he stumbled, “I was hit by the Violet Avenger’s time ray; it bought here, to the future….”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you think that it is the year 1939?” asked the concerned and amazed President.

  “How dare you impersonate the President of America,” remarked the Remarkableman, taking off his utility belt and trying to whip him with it, “now take this and get back to your segregated area at once!”

  Security took aim at him and immediately opened fired as the whip came close enough to shave a beard hair off the President’s chin. The bullets ricocheted off of him and hit several men behind the President. They fell to the floor and Remarkableman just stood in confusion, “ok,” he mummered, “I didn’t do that!”

  Gen looked over, alarms were ringing. They would be here any moment and destroy him, she thought, he might be a complete idiot but, hey, he didn’t mean to do this, the man is innocent and it’s in my programming to protect the innocent. She gave a gulp, in wonder what she was really thinking off when she cast a thin thread to the roof of the building and grabbed hold of Remarkableman’s waist, holding him close to her she said, “come with me if you want to live!” and she hoisted them both to the sky, using his bulk to smash through the roof and disappear into the night sky.

  4.

  Gen-etic’s thread had long diminished, both metaphorical and real. Now they were still holding on to each other tight, soaring through the clouds relying on Remarkableman’s superpower of flight. Only he was now in control of the situation which gave her something to be very concerned with. To Remarkableman everything was back to normal, it is a disgraceful notion to accept heroics from a woman in his mind and he was having serious trouble trying to comprehend it. She quivered, untrusting in his flight as he glided over the buildings below, “So, how comes you can fly?” she asked.

  “Because I am Remarkableman,” he informed her in his brave-macho voice, “I come from a planet far away in the solar system.”

  “That’s not that far these days,” she filled him in, very unimpressed, “most fictional aliens claim to be from galaxies much further away.”

  “They do? Well I am from a planet in far off galaxy, where due to the difference in gravitatio
nal pull here on Earth…….”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she sighed, “it gives you superpowers, great!”

  He looked down at her as the wind blew her hair, “that is right, how could you have possibly guessed this?”

  “It’s a little worn out cliché,” she sighed, “could you not come up with anything more, well, I dunno, more modern?”

  “I do not understand, most females in my time would be more than impressed by this and fall instantly in love with me,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, well, things have changed bozo.”

  “Where can we go to be safe?” he asked her, feeling nausea at the thought of asking her advice but he felt rather out of place here, the landscape of New York had changed so much and as for the culture, well, that was positively out on a limb.

  “My apartment, we’ll be safe there for a while but the sats will track us to any location…..”

  “The sats?” he asked, confused.

  “Satellite navigation, you do know what I mean…….” she examined his expression, “oh, of course, you don’t… well…. well, I’ll explain it to you at some point….”

  Suddenly Remarkableman stopped in his tracks, he was staring down at the ground, “Look!” he exclaimed, “a young boy is in grave danger, I must save him!”

  She looked down at the scuffle going on in a school playground below and then she looked back up to this so-called superhero, “don’t be such a bozo, we are on the run from the CIA, we don’t need to be exposing ourselves like this. Besides, superheroes today are assigned to missions involving delicate international crisis, political espionage, natural disasters and master criminals determined on world domination, we don’t rescue cats from trees, catch baddies that steal Twinkies from the five and dime, and we defiantly don’t get involved in cases of school playground bullies!”

  Remarkableman retorted as he began to dive, “I am Remarkableman,” he began, to which received a heavy sigh from the girl he was flying with, “and wherever there is danger to a human life, wherever there are injustices and crime I will attend, it is my duty to assist.”

  “Sake!” was her only reply as she mopped her brow. They swooped down onto the school yard to surprise three bullies that were minding their own business, busy giving grievance to a spotty, ginger boy for his lunch money.

  He stood astride with his feet as far apart as he possibly could, his hands on his hips, allowing his cloak to sway gently in the breeze, “Cease your victimisation of this child and unhand him at once for I am Remarkableman, atomic-powered superhero and I will unleash my super powers upon you should you choose to ignore my request!”

  The bullies turned in shock and then looked closer at the speaker. Then they looked at each other and burst out in giggles, pointing suggestively at Remarkableman and doubling up in laughter.

  “Do not jest with me children…” he went on.

  One of them took a step closer to the superhero, “who you calling children, homeboy?” he asked as he yielded a flick-knife and thrust it at his face.

  “How dare you disrespect your elders child!” he demanded, “unhand that boy at once!”

  “Come any closer mother fucker and we’ll do him in!” they commanded.

  “Disgraceful, what would your mother say if she could hear you now?” asked Remarkableman, slapping the knife out of his hand. It hit the floor and they all looked at it and laughed yet again.

  “If you touch me again dude, we’ll call the Feds!” threatened one of the boys.

  “Don’t be so silly,” retorted Remarkableman, but then Gen cut in, the boys suddenly took one look at her and retreated.

  “You fucking bozo, do you realise that if you so much as touch these kids they will have you arrested?” she intervened.

  “What, for defending the honour of a young child, I think not, I will get a medal of bravery,” the superhero pointed out.

  She ignored this and prowled like a cat after its prey towards the bullies, “shit!” cried one, “she looks well mean!” “I sure ain’t messing with her!” said the other and the last one requested that they run for it, and they did. Gen saw them off as the teacher came striding across to see what the fuss was about.

  When Gen turned around she was surprised to see Remarkableman cuddling the victim, telling him it would be alright. “What the heck are you doing?” asked the teacher, a broad shouldered woman of about thirty with curly hair and relaxed attire.

  “I am consoling this poor child!” replied Remarkableman.

  “How did you get past the security guards?” she asked. Gen just put her hands over her face in disgust.

  “Huh?” gasped Remarkableman, “why on earth would you have security guards at a school?”

  “To protect the students from people like you!” she shouted. Then she crouched down to address the boy, “has this, this man touched you in anyway?” she asked.

  “Yes,” replied the boy, “he was touching me.”

  Gen leaned in and whispered to Remarkableman, “We have to get out of here now!”

  “Why on earth would I do that?” asked the confused superhero.

  “Because bozo,” she told him as she firmly prodded him in the ribs, “they will give you three years in the state pen for being an underage sexual predator; this child will probably receive five to ten years of therapy. You’ll be lucky if his parents only sue the school for negligence and the teacher for emotional trauma. The teacher could well turn suicidal due to the stress and if she jumped off a building and smashed a car, or a window or anything as much as a mailbox the victims will sue her estate for destruction of property, every penny she had in her will, that is the probable scenario which you risk, you fucking nutjob!”

  “Well in my day all that would have happened was the boy would feel better about himself and the bullies would have been scared off,” he pointed out, “what kind of society has this world become? How can you discipline your children if you cannot touch them?”

  Gen sighed, finding it difficult to accept that he had a point, “you don’t, that is the problem, but still, you’ve a lot to learn about 2014.”

  5.

  Remarkableman scanned the room in amazement at the technological differences between her apartment and that of his own. “Strange,” he remarked, “why would you have the television set in your kitchen?”

  Gen rushed around, tiding things up randomly, “that is a microwave oven you dick wart, the TV is over there,” she pointed to a massive black slab mounted on the wall and then hurried over to the flip open her laptop, “we need to see if that stupid stunt you pulled has attracted any attention,” she worriedly suggested.

  “What is this?” he curiously asked after he had finished gawking at the large black slab in the middle of the room and thought how rich she and her husband must be.

  “Huh? It’s a laptop…..” suddenly she thought about who she was talking to, “look in 2014 we have a thing called the internet that you can tap into through phones and computers and things, well, basically, it gives us access to the entirety of information known to man……”

  Remarkableman, genuinely impressed bowed down to her level to get a look, “that is incredible, what a valid tool for communicating ideas and inventions……hey, what’s with all the cute pictures of cats?”

  “Yes,” she sighed, “this is Facebook, a social media site, it’s ermm, well, it’s a popular thing to do I suppose, that and selfies….don’t ask me to explain that one.”

  “I won’t, I’m confused enough,” he said looking at the screen some more, “Why has that person put a picture of their lunch on your computer?”

  “It’s just what people do,” she unenthusiastically explained.

  “Why have this immense power at your fingertips and use it to put pretty pictures of cats or show people your lunch?”

  This question did not get a reply from Gen, although somewhere deep inside she had to ask herself the same question. She scrolled down the newsfeed and then pointed frustratingly at a p
ost, “see,” she exclaimed, “It says ‘Check this video out, sum paedo thinks he’s a superhero lol.’ You have ridiculed yourself and made us superheroes look like a bunch of perverted idiots, well done bozo!”

  “How did that happen, I saw no cameramen?” he shockingly asked.

  She sighed pointing at a small, thin black slab on the side of her desk, “Everyone is a cameraman today; they have cameras on their phones.”

  Remarkableman picked up Gen’s smart phone, examining it with a keen interest, “you mean to tell me that this is a telephone?”

  She got up and threw her arms in the air, “look, I’m going to take a shower, do not touch anything that you do not know what it is and I will be back in fifteen minutes, ok?”

  Remarkableman tried his best, but when the phone started playing a song, the like he had never heard before, he had to pick it up and look at it. Then when it began to vibrate he threw it back onto the sofa in shock. Just then the door opened and a man stepped inside, “Oh hey,” he said in a very soft and corny accent, “nice suit, you off to a fancy dress party?”

  Remarkableman gave him a hard stare, and then relaxed, “oh, you must be Gen’s husband, pleased to meet you; I am Remarkableman, a superhero from the year 1939! I feel we need to discuss something quite important and, well, rather delicate. I am sorry to inform you that Gen has not made you your dinner, she has been seen outside, fraternising with criminal men wearing just her underwear. Also, she has been using curse words and blasphemy at every available opportunity. I strongly suggest,” he went on, causally lighting a cigarette, “that you chastise her thoroughly with a good beating and ensure that she does her fair duty in the kitchen.” Slightly put off by the man’s dress sense, a skin tight T-shirt and very revealing tight shorts he folded his arms and expected a shocked and furious response from the man but all he did was giggle.