Average Joe and the Extraordinaires

by Belart Wright

  Borland: “Get the lead out! What’s taking so long?”

  Joe had a bold idea, but if he was wrong he knew he’d end up paying for it.

  Joe: “If I’m an idiot, then you’re a liar.”

  Joe outstretched his arms and grabbed Borland. First by the shoulders, and then he wrapped his arms around the man’s chest. He had the man wrapped tight.

  Borland: “Get your goddamn hands off me, kid!”

  Joe struggled to contain the angry old bull.

  Joe bellowed, “Not until you show me what you really look like.”

  The bitter old man stopped struggling and started laughing. It creeped Joe out.

  Borland: “Very good. I’ll do as you say.”

  Joe: “Uggh! What the heck is this?”

  Inside the shadowy hall where they stood, Borland’s body started to melt, liquefying as Joe tried his best to hold on. It felt like putty in Joe’s hand, stretching and morphing uncomfortably, and thoroughly freaking him out in the process. The broad shoulders of the man became slender and streamlined. The rest of his boxy frame followed suit, except for the hips and buttocks, which became rounder. Joe’s view of the man’s head became obscured by a sea of thick curls. That delightful aroma that he hadn't smelled in almost a week had intensified, and the two of them stood there silent for several moments.

  Joe: “Is it over?”

  Beauty: “Yes, and that means you can release your death grip on my breasts. I don’t think they’ll be attacking you anytime soon.”

  Joe instantly turned a deep shade of red, and only now realized that he had two handfuls of Beauty. He instantly let go of the woman. Beauty put her hand to her mouth and let out a laugh.

  Beauty: “You’re so gullible. What if I was a different shape-shifter? What if I wanted you dead?”

  Joe didn’t want to think about that. Mainly because he didn’t want to think about there being other shape-shifters out there. Beauty smiled.

  Beauty: “And for the record … you only grabbed me because I let you.”

  Joe: “So you wanted me to grab you like that?”

  Beauty: “No, that was a little improv on your part. I didn’t resist because I thought it’d be funny. Now, though, we need to focus on getting out of here. I have a bit more mischief to cause before Borland notices I’ve stolen you.”

  She smiled devilishly.

  Joe: “Stolen me? I don’t think I want to be stolen by you. I don’t have the stomach for any more of your trouble. I’ve been getting closer and closer to being killed since I met you, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  Beauty continued smiling and countered.

  Beauty: “You chose to join this circus, if you remember correctly.”

  Silence lingered with those words. Beauty approached Joe solemnly.

  Beauty: “I’m sorry, that’s not quite fair is it, or accurate?”

  Joe: “I don’t want whatever you’re offering. I feel like I’d be worse off with your help.”

  There was more silence between the two until Beauty’s bright smile signaled its end.

  Beauty: “What if I can prove your innocence?”

  Chapter 13

  That Can’t Be Sanitary

  Joe: “So how can we do that?”

  That felt like Joe’s twentieth time asking that. Beauty had been ignoring his questions for the last few minutes now and it was really annoying him. Despite that, he continued to follow her. Where she was going, he did not know. The sun overhead was now setting.

  Joe: “And how did you get out of the stadium?”

  Beauty: “Quiet yourself and hurry up. I honestly can’t believe you’re as oblivious as you are. Your lack of remarkability and failures to grasp what’s going on in your environment may be a skill in and of itself.”

  Joe had nothing to say to that and couldn’t blame the woman for sharing it. She was just telling the truth and he knew it. All his life he’d wanted to be a bigshot, wanted to be phenomenal at … something, he didn’t know what. He had made the unfortunate discovery, over time, that he however was nothing if not average or below.

  Beauty: “You had to have noticed that you’ve been getting funny looks all morning by all sorts people.”

  Joe: “I did. From the lady upstairs and the security guard in the lobby.”

  They continued to walk through the alley with Joe trying to match Beauty’s brisk pace.

  Beauty: “Well, that’s a start. Those two were the most overt, but there were a handful of others that noticed you too. I counted six in total that took an interest in your every move. Fortunately for you, those people were associates of Borland, so he probably had them spying on you. Fortunately for me, you became impatient and made my job easier. Borland’s meddling in my affairs has made things difficult for me lately. I’d like to avoid him whenever possible. That includes looking like him.”

  Joe: “About that … how exactly do you do that? Change like that I mean?”

  Beauty looked back, not at Joe, but beyond him.

  Beauty: “Come on! We have to go!”

  Beauty grabbed Joe’s hand and started running. Joe would have peeked backwards if Beauty wasn’t yanking his arm so strongly. He tried to formulate a sentence as he gasped for air.

  Joe: “Where are you taking me?”

  Beauty: “We need to get back to my bike. Move your feet faster!”

  They rounded a corner quickly and ran straight for a while, past a flock of seagulls that were busying themselves with large pieces of bread, too occupied apparently to be scared of Joe or Beauty as they ran past. Another corner to the right gave them a nice clear path out of the alley and to the street. Joe was tired of running and hoped that the bike was right up ahead. After getting up to the street, they still had about a block to run until they reached the bike. Beauty hopped on the bike first and put on her helmet.

  Joe: “Where’s mine?”

  Joe pointed at his head. Beauty took her helmet off and removed one of her earrings.

  Beauty: “Here, take this and quiet yourself.”

  The lightning bolt-shaped earring changed into a black helmet in Beauty’s hand. Joe, who was now getting used to these magic feats, let loose what he was thinking.

  Joe: “That can’t be sanitary.”

  Beauty laughed and handed Joe the helmet.

  Beauty: “Just put it on, Mr. Clean. We have a lot of driving to do.”

  Joe: “You’re going to have to tell me how you do this stuff one of these days.”

  Beauty: “Not today.”

  She placed her helmet over her head and Joe followed suit. She revved the engine, clutched the throttle, and accelerated to who knows where.

  Chapter 14

  The First Revenger

  Joe was starting to regret asking for a helmet. The heat was not mixing well with its tightness. His face was covered with sweat and now he was feeling claustrophobic. He ripped the helmet off and accidently dropped it into the street behind him. He looked behind and saw it quickly change back into an earring and then disappear completely as the bike zoomed down the street. The night air felt nice and calming on his face, despite still being quite warm. The open air was at least cooler than the inside of the helmet. Joe was thankful for that. He then remembered that he was still supposed to be hiding. He clung closer to Beauty and rested his head against her back. They rode on like that for a while until they reached their destination.

  They stopped at a restaurant. One that looked rather old. Across the red and white awning were the words “Pierogi Place.” It was nestled in a quiet old part of Orange City that seemed on the verge of decay. A lot of stuff downtown gave off that look.

  Joe: “Where are we?”

  Beauty: “This is Steve Blonsky’s restaurant. We’ll find poor food and poorer company inside. You’ll recognize Blonsky as the loudmouth that had me carried away before in the stadium.”

  Joe: “Yeah about that, how did you—”

  Beauty: “Shhh.”

  They walked th
rough the door, right on through to the old country. The place looked like it was ripped from one of those old mobster movies. Red and white checkered tablecloths were spread across many of the tables, and the light was low to the point of being dim. Fake leafy vines hung across the walls along with the pictures of old famous Miami. It looked like someone was trying too hard, in all honesty.

  Beauty opted to keep her helmet on and pushed Joe further into the restaurant. Joe was hesitant, still wary of people seeing his face. Beauty didn’t seem to care. Joe tried his best to keep his head down, but whenever he looked up eyes were all over him. It felt like Beauty was parading him around on purpose for all to see. Joe didn’t like it. A few men’s stares had lingered way too long.

  Now Beauty was pushing him westwards towards a bunch of noise. Directly ahead of him was a table around which were seated eight people. The men in black suits here were either drinking, smoking, laughing, or doing all three in intervals. A man in a brown suit and black tie with a yellow smiley on it did most of the talking or joke telling from what Joe could tell. The laughter stopped when Beauty pushed Joe in front of their table. He bumped it and tried to recover himself. At that point, everyone’s stares were on him. He turned around to find Beauty, but she was already gone. He stood perfectly still, like a deer caught in the headlights.

  He stared at the men’s black suits and was reminded of the stadium. He could swear that he recognized a few of the men from before, when his life was in danger. A lot was similar to then, especially the knot in Joe’s stomach and the large amounts of sweating he was doing. A man that Joe definitely recognized from the stadium sat directly across from where Joe stood. His balding blonde hair and thick red skin made him stand out easily enough, but it was the ruthlessness in his voice and the way he barked orders that Joe remembered the most.

  Blonsky: “Hey, hey, hey! Watch the table, kid. We’re having civilized adult time over here.”

  He eyeballed Joe and rubbed his mustache with his thumb. He then offered Joe a sly smile.

  Blonsky: “You look familiar, kid. Have we met before?”

  Joe could feel more sweat beading on his forehead. He didn’t back away from Blonsky’s stare despite his own fear. He couldn’t. He just wasn’t taught that way. His mom, dad, granddad, and grand-mom had all taught him to never back away from a stare. A man is only as good as his handshake, if he can look another man in the eye without flinching, his granddad had always said. It was somewhat of a family motto.

  Joe: “No. I don’t believe so.”

  Blonsky: “Well I beg to differ, kiddo. Cuz, you see, I’m good with faces, and your face is kicking my memory into overdrive.”

  Beauty was nowhere in sight, and Joe had no idea as to what he should say or do right now.

  Joe: “Sorry, but I’m not sure why.”

  Blonsky: “Because I’ve seen you before, eggs-for-brains. The question is where.”

  Joe remembered his clear view of Blonsky through the locker slits, but there was no way this man had seen him. A woman spoke up.

  Woman: “That’s because he’s a national celebrity, Steve. His face is all over the T.V.”

  Blonsky: “Hehe, I know who this kid is. I’m just bustin’ his chops a bit. Ain’t that right, kiddo? Don’t answer that, it was a rhetorical question. Of course it’s right, cuz I said it.”

  He took a swig of his drink. It looked red and dark. Most likely wine … or blood.

  Blonsky: “Now Joe Remington Black, what brings you to my establishment? Come to turn yourself in?”

  Joe: “You’re with the police?”

  Blonsky let out a snort and laughed.

  Blonsky: “Man, kid, you really crack me up. Do I look like the police?”

  Joe looked ready to respond, but Blonsky lifted a finger to stop him.

  Blonsky: “Shh, shh, shh … again, that was rhetorical.”

  He swirled the liquid in his glass around, tilted his head back, and drained what was left.

  Blonsky: “You really are dense, kid, to an unfair degree. But you know what? You’re a godsend. You popped up at just the right time, twice.”

  Joe looked perplexed.

  Blonsky: “Don’t think too hard, you’ll rupture something and your face’ll stay stuck all dumb like that. Okay, okay … to simplify this, there is a bounty on your head. Two very big ones. The police department put out a decent sized one, but my partner has one even bigger, about ten times what they promised to pay out.”

  Nobody made a move. All eyes were on Joe. His eyes went from Blonsky to the man left of Blonsky, then to the man right of Blonsky. The men looked quite athletic. Joe knew that he wouldn’t make it far if he ran, but heck, he had nothing to lose.

  Blonsky: “You’ll make me a richer man, cuz I’m already pretty stinkin’ rich.”

  Joe didn’t know what Beauty had planned here at this restaurant, but he did know that he couldn’t stay here any longer. He bolted away awkwardly, stumbling first over his feet and then over chairs, tables, and then a waitress. Throughout all of that, however, he created a nice amount of distance between himself and Blonsky’s group. There was another man in a black suit near the front door now, so Joe instead opted to dash through the kitchen, hoping to find a back door.

  The kitchen felt like a little slice of hell, and Joe began sweating like crazy. Most of the cooks ignored him, as if a teenage boy running for his life through their workspace was a normal everyday occurrence. He dashed until he came to a narrow part of the kitchen between a large metal table and a large grill. The path between the two was blocked by a cart covered with tomatoes. Joe jumped the cart and kicked his foot backwards.

  Tomatoes flew everywhere, splattering all over the ground and angering many yelling cooks. The cart crashed loudly and tipped over, sending the remaining tomatoes to the floor. Joe ran through a door that led to a small room with cooking utensils, then through another door which landed him outside. He wasn’t alone though. Two men in black suits awaited him.

  “Wow, nothing but fail here.”

  “Heh, he really thought he could get away.”

  They came at Joe and he had no choice but to accept defeat. The closest one to him with the blonde hair bent Joe’s right arm behind his back and twisted up on it. Joe yelled out in pain, but shut up when he was pushed, face first, into the brick wall and pinned there.

  The other men came out of the kitchen exit moments later, with Blonsky in their midst.

  Blonsky: “Well, well, well…”

  Up walked Blonsky with the top of his head shining red from the bright light bulb above the door. He smiled.

  Blonsky: “No need to make a scene, Joe. Your fate is sealed. You see, you won’t be making a fool of me again.”

  Joe wondered what he meant by again, but didn’t linger on the thought. Blonsky made a wiping gesture with his right hand, and the next thing that Joe knew his face was being rubbed against the brick wall.

  Joe:“Ahh aaaahhh sss-s-stop!”

  Blonsky: “Shut up! Failures don’t deserve to speak. Just be grateful that someone feels you’re important enough to talk to, elsewise I’d have your head squeezed from your neck tonight and call it a success.”

  Saliva gleamed from the corners of Blonsky’s snarling mouth. After that he took a moment to regain his composure.

  Blonsky: “I’m going to have fun making you pay later. But for now bring ‘em in, fellas.”

  A loud pop echoed through the alleyway and ricocheted around. It was loud enough to be near, but distant enough for no one to see where it came from. It must’ve been a gunshot, thought Joe. The curves, corners, edges, and shadows of the alley helped mask the shooter. Everyone near the restaurant ducked, and Blonsky was escorted inside with the door closed behind him. All that remained in the alley was an eerie quiet, five men in black suits, Joe, and whoever had fired that shot.

  Joe had taken cover behind a trash can that was close to the kitchen door. He wasn’t sure if he was the intended target but took no cha
nces. He saw the men around him rise up and point their guns into the alley. The alley was silent; Joe was only able to hear the breathing of the men around him. In a sneaking instant, Joe heard a groan and then something hit the ground and he heard a yell.

  He turned to his rear to catch the commotion, and immediately saw the black suit writhing on the ground and another black suit with his arms in the air. There was a gun near the side of his head, but behind that gun was a welcoming sight. Borland, and by the look of it, he had taken a hostage.

  Borland: “Put your guns down. Everybody!”

  His voice was strangely low, but everyone could still hear him. The hush in the alley was resounding. No one made a move, and no one followed Borland’s orders either. Borland motioned for Joe to join him. Joe walked towards Borland, but was grabbed by the man in black standing near him mid-stride. The man held Joe’s arms behind his back painfully tight.

  Man in Black: “You’re not getting him. Now let my partner go and we’ll let you leave with your life.”

  There was a standoff. It didn’t look like Borland was taking the bait.

  Man in Black: “Heh! No matter. We’ll blow you away regardless.”

  The men all lifted their guns at Borland. Borland stood still and unflinching. He didn’t utter a word and only held tight to his human shield, who had begun to squirm.

  Man in Black: “Heh! Well, fine, old man. If that’s how you want it.”

  The man grabbed Joe by the neck in a chokehold. With his free hand, he lifted his gun and pointed it at Borland.

  Man in Black: “Last chance.”

  Time was running out. But it seemed to stand still for a moment. Joe spared a glance at the other shooters to see if Borland stood a chance. He saw something way behind the group, in the shadows. The shape was quickly approaching though, much faster than a man. It was blue, but that’s all Joe could make out.

  “Oof!”

  One man in black went down. The others tried tracking the noise.

  “Ahhh-uugh!”

  Another hit the ground with a blunt thud. The blue blur was now in their midst, but Joe could still hardly see it. As the blur closed in, more gunshots rang out. The blur had taken on the shape of a man, and a large one at that. As close as he was now, Joe could see more red. Red hands crashed against a black suit’s face. Red feet were thrust into another’s gut. No, they weren’t just hands and feet, they were boots and gloves, Joe thought.