by Ben Bequer
The nurse stood and headed over to Nina.
What followed was a blur that seemed to never end. They triaged her, sent into the main waiting room, where a tech took her information and put her in the queue. They didn’t show favoritism, which was odd treatment for a hero, and the one time I complained I got a nasty look from everyone involved. Four hours later, we were through one set of scans and a bunch of blood tests, but nobody was telling us anything.
Nina fell asleep after the CT scan, but she was having a nightmare or something, moving around as if she was fighting something. Nina was a Class-B strength super, and I was afraid she might break the bed with even a slight gesture. I sat beside her and took her hand, which she gripped hard. Her eyes flickered open and it took her awhile to clear the fog from her eyes.
“How’re you feeling?”
Nina held my hand tight and shook her head slowly. She turned away and cried into the pillow. I took a step back and almost turned my back. It wasn’t right for me to see her this way. It was a level of vulnerability I hadn’t earned. “You’re going to be okay,” I said, hating the sound of my own voice. “I promise.”
My phone rang. It was Apogee.
“I gotta take this,” I said, heading outside. “I’ll be right back.”
“Are you with her?” Apogee asked.
“Yeah, I’m here at the KU Emergency.”
“What are the doctors saying?”
I looked back into the room. With me gone, Nina had given herself freedom to weep with abandon. She was scared. So was I. “Nothing,” I said. “The fuckers are busy with all of the other-”
“What?”
“They’re slammed because of-”
She hung up and fifteen minutes later, a breathless resident rushed into the room. “Hi there, I’m Doctor Kitts,” he said, with an accent that made me think he was from somewhere in the Caribbean. “Mr. and Mrs. Stromo…” he paused, struggling with the name. I wanted to correct him, we weren’t married, but it didn’t seem to be a big priority.
“Stromowskij,” she said, helping him with the pronunciation.
“Yes, sorry. Well, I’m here to make sure you’re well taken care of,” he said and turned to the nurse, who handed him the chart. I sat beside her again and she took my hand.
“Looks like I got myself a husband,” Nina said, smiling for the first time since she’d been injured. Nina’s care was prioritized after that, and I was glad to see she was in good hands. I was about to call Apogee when my phone rang again. I stepped outside of the room and took the call.
“Yes,” I said.
She was about to start a whole thing, but with one word I arrested her. It was one of my favorite things to do. “Yes?”
“Yes to all your questions,” I said.
“Okay,” she said, but two breaths later, she had to ask them anyway. “She’s with a doctor?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And they put her to the front of the line on everything?”
“Yes. You know there was a kind of charm to being a regular citizen-”
“Fuck that,” she snapped. “We don’t do what we do then wait in line for care. Fuck that. Is she okay?”
“I think so,” I said. “She’s got a nasty concussion at the very least, but she’ll be fine.”
“What do you know about head trauma? Wait, who am I kidding? No one on the planet’s been hit in the head as much as you.”
“See? You could almost call me an authority on the subject.”
She laughed, “Seriously, what are they saying?”
“You know how they are,” I said. “Cautiously optimistic, and always covering their asses in fear of liability. If you go by her demeanor though…”
“What?”
“You’re going to laugh,” I said. “The doctor thought were married. Anyway, it made her smile.” She was silent for a bit. It was a silly joke, did she take it the wrong way? “I say that meaning that she’s cheering up a little. The whole thing shook her a bit.”
“Right.”
Short, curt. Something was going on. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just...Jeff wanted us on a video conference call tonight.”
Superdynamic wanted us? Was something going on? This whole KC experiment was good and all, but if there were real bad guys to put down, I wasn’t going to sit it out. “Video conference call - you know that’s called Facetime,” I chided her.
“If you were standing right next to me when you said that, you know your arm would be sore for like half an hour.”
I laughed, looking back inside. Nina was smiling and joking with the doctor. He was a young guy, charming and handsome, clearly entranced by her. She didn’t seem to have any long-term neurological effects, but I knew the doctor would insist on a dozen tests before they released her. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I can make it out of here. She’s looking good.”
“They won’t release her today,” she said. “Not with a head injury.”
“Well, it’s only Wednesday,” I said, immediately realizing that it wasn’t.
“Maybe you should get your head checked too, dummy. It’s Thursday. Put your hand in front of my face,” she said, pausing enough for me to do it. “Stick out two fingers.”
I did it.
“Okay, how many fingers?”
“Seven,” I said.
“You’re fine.”
The doctor waved me in as if he had some news he wanted to share with the happy couple.
“I’ll keep you apprised,” I said, about to hang up. “And I’ll be on the chat thing-”
“He said he’ll send a link. And hey,” she said, halting me. “I might just have to move out there with you if it’s going to be this serious.”
I laughed, “Fucking hundred foot-tall T-rex monsters…”
“Yeah, head out to KC, it’ll be a breeze,” she said, doing the little Bruce Willis voice from Die Hard. It was moments like these that made me want to squeeze her with pride.
“I’ll call you back,” I said, about to push the door open.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m totally fine. But I gotta go, babe.”
“I miss you,” she said, and I stopped mid-step. We led dangerous, busy lives. Our actual time together was a collection of tiny islands in an ocean of time apart, but she had never seemed to feel any kind of way about it before.
“I miss you, too,” I said, hoping the delay hadn’t been too obvious. I hung up and went inside.
“I miss you, too?” Nina said. She knew who I was talking to, but she was still playing the part of Mrs. Blackjack.
“My mom,” I said. “She’s worried something awful about you. Any word, doctor?”
Doctor Kitts told us exactly what I was worried he’d say. She was looking good, but they wanted to keep her and do a few more tests overnight before discharging her. As he was finishing, Powermaster came into our room. He was out of costume, and I saw Red Quiver and the others hanging out behind him.
The doctor left and the gang came in, except Bajeera. He waved through the small inset window and spent the rest of the visit sitting in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs. “What’s with him?” I asked Powermaster during the first private moment I could find.
“He doesn’t like hospitals,” he said. “They terrify him. How are you holding up?”
“I’m good,” I said.
“Listen, I got a call from Apogee,” he said. “You can go do the thing...whatever it is she needs you for..”
I looked over at the team. They were a person short. It didn’t feel right. “I’m alright. I just got here. It’s just a Facetime thing with Superdynamic, it doesn’t sound important.”
“It’s fine, man. I’ll call you if we need you.”
Apogee always got her way...
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
About Time, Jeff
I stayed another couple of hours, l
ong enough to eat with the team. Roy didn’t even let me pay. I had three burgers, four trays of some greasy chicken tenders, and enough fries to feed a battalion. Bajeera saw me plow through the food and nodded. He too had a big appetite, and the others joked about us exploding into clumps of undigested food.
The Uber driver didn’t mind that I fell asleep on the trip back to the townhouse and woke me up by gently raising the volume on his music until I got the message. The guy earned himself a $20 tip for being cool. I went inside and showered, thinking I had time for another meal before the Facetime conference. While I was in the shower, my phone went berserk with three calls. Finally, I stepped out and looked at the number.
“Blocked.”
I turned the phone ring off and finished my shower but I could’ve sworn that it buzzed a few times before I was done. I grabbed my tablet and found an email from Jeff. As soon as I clicked it, the iPad fired up Facetime and facing me in the main window was Jeff, a big stupid smile on his face.
He was ebullient, like a little kid about to blow the candles on his birthday cake. The view behind him was the apartment he shared with his girlfriend. The lights were low and I saw the Mali sun ducking behind the horizon in the huge polarized screen that made up his view. “Hey, that was fast,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”
“Madelyne said it was important,” I said, not sure what else to say.
“Awesome, awesome,” he said. “Let’s wait for her then I’ll call Rebecca upstairs. Give me a second,” he added, moving away from the screen. He was looking back, checking something out, then came back and adjusted the view so I could see the entrance to his office. “There,” he said. “Can you see the room?”
“Jeff, what’re you doing?”
He smiled, “What I should have done ages ago.”
Holy shit, I was getting inducted into Battle. I had figured the call would come soon - most likely because of an impending fight or a high-level villain gone wild, but I didn’t expect it so soon. I knew this All-Stars thing was a joke.
“Hello?” Madelyne said, adding on to the call.
“Maddie? Can you see me?”
Her voice sounded far like she was on the moon talking back to Houston. “I’m here, hang on,” she said, before shifting loudly. It was like she was sitting on a sheet of aluminum foil. “Sorry,” she said. “There. I’m ready.”
I didn’t have time to say anything, to do anything when Rebecca walked in, surprising Jeff. “Honey, I wanted to…” She stopped, knowing something was off. Jeff flinched, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Rebecca was a tall blonde, a former model who still kept her thin frame atop long, endless legs. She gazed around the room, suspicious, and noticed the screens facing her.
“Madelyne? Dale?” she said, turning to Jeff. Her expression changed as she understood what was happening. Her eyes widened, mouth dropped agape. My phone buzzed again in my pocket but I ignored it, entranced by the drama unfolding in front of me. Like Rebecca, I had finally figured it out - it wasn’t about me.
Jeff dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring case, and took a knee. He was about to speak, probably a speech he had written, edited and rehearsed ad infinitum, but she dove into his arms.
“Yes!” she said.
“Holy shit!” I said, wishing at that moment more than anything to be able to see Madelyne’s face.
The phone again. The same blocked number. I almost threw it out a window but those things were expensive. Jeff and Rebecca were hugging, kissing, crying, and I have to admit, I got a little emotional, both in the joy I felt for them, and surprise for being included. Sure, he and I were friends, but this was about as personal as it got. I knew the real audience was Madelyne, and I was along for the ride, but it still felt good to be trusted.
“Can you believe it?” Madelyne said. The other two were deep in a kissing embrace, ignoring us, the Facetime conference and the rest of the world.
“Did you know?” I said, hoping she could hear me.
“Yeah,” she said.
“You knew?” Rebecca said, splitting long enough to wipe her tears. “You’re so bad! We had lunch yesterday and you said nothing.”
“What can I say? I can keep a secret.”
Rebecca moved in closer to the screen, crouching to see, “Oh, my! Dale, are you crying?”
I had some moisture near the edges of my eyes. “Nah! That’s some dust that got in my eye,” I joked.
Again the phone. Jesus fucking Christ, that was like eight calls!
She cried again, and goddammit, it made me tear up some. “I’m so glad you guys could see this. Did you plan all of this?”
Jeff moved in, cocking his head to one side.
“We need to have them over,” Rebecca said.
“Dale’s got work, hon. I don’t know if it’s feasible,” Superdynamic said. “He had some excitement today, as a matter of fact.”
Rebecca got suddenly serious, worried, but he waved her off. “Everyone’s okay?”
“We’re good,” I said.
“Okay, kiddies,” Madelyne jumped in. “Time to let the two lovebirds have some privacy. What do you say, Dale?”
“Sounds good. I’ll call you in a bit.”
Jeff and Rebecca embraced and waved us goodbye. I grabbed my phone so hard I cracked the screen. “Great!” I said, dialing the number back.
“Moonlight,” said the guy who responded. He had a voice like he had smoked since he was in the womb.
“What the fuck are you-”
The guy hung up. I threw the phone into the floor, smashing it into a thousand pieces. The floor was tile, but it scratched pretty badly. “Dammit!”
I could feel the blood pounding in my ears, and the heat welling up in my forehead. My breathing was like a thousand times a minute, and I could feel my heart about to tear out of my chest. I went upstairs and initialized the new phone, but saw that it didn’t have the record of previous calls. Dammit, I wasn’t going to be able to see who it was.
Wait a minute, the iPad. It was on when the calls came in, and it probably had the record of the calls. I went back downstairs, set up the pad again and checked the phone app, but before I knew it, it dialed back - in Facetime. The same guy answered so quickly I didn’t have time to cut the call off.
“What the fuck are…” the guy trailed off as he stared at me on his screen. “You look familiar.”
I wasn’t calm, not by a long stretch, but it looked like an honest mistake. Maybe the guy was in an emergency and misdialed. “Sorry about earlier,” I said, trying to keep the guy from hanging up. “I just got like twenty calls from this number and-”
“Oh, I know who you are. Holy shit, you’re...hey, what’s wrong with your hair?”
My head dropped in defeat. I couldn’t even communicate with the guy. I wanted to smash the phone again. So many impulses bunched in my head at one time, I could barely keep it together. I focused on Jeff and Rebecca and let the happiness of their moment calm me. It was strange for me to draw strength from outside myself, and I was surprised at how hard it was to be angry while recalling the proposal.
“Wait, the calls,” the guy said. “I know. Hang on.” He put the phone face down so the screen went dark, but I could hear someone running away - thanks to a bundle of keys he had either in his pockets or tied to his belt. He pounded on a door then spoke, but the voices were too far away for me to understand. A full minute passed, and I was tempted to hang up. Was the guy fucking with me? I said to myself if another minute went by, I was going to hang up and shut off my phone. I could call Apogee using the apartment’s landline.
The call timer on my screen read 1:42 when he picked it up and I could see him huffing and puffing from the run. “Hey, sorry. I found her. By the way, I’m a huge fan of all your work.”
It was Lady Armada.
She was in a black turtleneck and a red patterned scarf, with wide shades and a black narrow-brimmed hat. It looked like she was incognito. But she wasn’t
right. Her hair was an oily mess, her face streaked and dirty. Her eyes were bloodshot and unfocused.
“I see him, but can he hear me?” she asked the guy, who was still on screen. He was a big dude, heavy set, but beside her he was tiny.
“I think so,” the guy said.
“I can hear you,” I said.
“Good,” Armada said, still to the guy. “How long will this last?”
The guy shrugged, “I got like a million minutes in my plan, darling. Take your time.”
“Excellent,” she said, turning away and walking off with me. I could see the guy in the background, surprised she was taking his phone. Eventually, he relented as she went up a flight of stairs.
“What’s going on?” I said.
“One moment,” she said, taking another flight up and going into a room. It looked like a seedy hotel with greasy windows. A rickety card table swung past my vision as she locked the door and sat on the bed. “Very well,” she said. “You can hear me?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Okay. I apologize,” she said, adding nothing more. The superheroine sat there, looking at me as if the phone call was over.
“Fine,” I said.
“It’s acceptable to you?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Very well,” she said, then I saw her finger on the screen, trying to turn off the phone. “How does....”
“The red button,” I said.
“I can figure it out,” she snapped.
“Fine.”
“I don’t need your help,” she said. “Or anyone else’s.”
“Forget I even tried,” I shot back.
She struggled some more, and I figured it was a phone problem - sometimes iPhones got buggy. Finally, she put the phone down on her lap and I saw her face break, and from all the frustration and anger came tears. “Damn you,” she said finally when she looked down and saw me staring back at the screen.
“Hey, I’m not the one that stabbed-”
“I know! Damn it! I know…”
More tears, this time, she was weeping openly. That’s when I put it all together. Epic had suspended her from the team until she apologized. In the meantime, she was in some cheap motel somewhere, drowning in her sorrows. It was cliché as hell, but something I could empathize with.
