Hero High: Figure In The Flames

by Chara, Mina

  The moment my phone rang and chirped like a tribble as I pressed a button, Ashley’s head shot up with a look like a feral wolf. I nearly jumped off my chair at the sight, Ashley’s eyes didn’t leave me as he stood up. It was like one of those towers in a theme park where they drag you up to the top and then drop you, the straighter his legs got the closer I felt to the top of the needle. Ashley might as well have been the same height as one of those rides; watching him stand over me filled me with just as much dread. His hand slammed down on my desk, but I didn’t flinch.

  My head tilted to the side in question, and my hand still gripped my phone like whatever was on it was far too important to miss. Ashley leaned over me and reached for my phone. His body was all encompassing, like a mountain tall enough to block out the sun, or in this case the single light fixture.

  His hand wrapped around mine and I forgot what he was doing for a moment as a curious kick ran through me from the feel of his hand on mine. My breath hitched, and my hand went loose. My phone slipped from my hand to his.

  “Hey! Give that back,” I said.

  “This is detention, not after school day care,” he said, turning on his heel as though he’d no other reason to look at me.

  “What’s you problem?” I demanded and watched as his shoulders tensed and his body stiffened. He gripped my phone tighter and pulled the cable from the live feed before muttering under his breath.

  Was he allowed to do that?

  “What’s my problem?” his jaw clenched as he turned to meet my gaze and I stood up to try and level the playing field, before remembering the disparity between our heights. “My problem is I don’t like stuck up little brats playing at superhero.” He said it in a gentle way without a hint of satisfaction in his voice, as though it was something he’d said a million times before, and was starting to grow tired of.

  “Stuck up little brats? I’m not,” I insisted, but actually, I kind of was. “Ferrari, check. Water bed, check. Ocean side villa made mostly out of glass, check. Raised by nanny, check. Impractical white furniture, check. Huh, well what do ya know?” I mumbled, “I guess I am a spoiled little brat.” I shrugged and turned on my happy go lucky switch that dulled the regular frustration. “Whatever,” I said with a shrug and what would have been a skip in my walk, had I been walking. I reached for the phone and he pulled it back. “Just give it back you, you giant! It’s not like I’m in here for a good reason, I’ve detention because I tried to stop a fight, how is that worth punishment?”

  “So you’re just going to decide not to punish yourself?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not how the rules work.”

  “Rules, shmules.”

  He gaped at me as though I’d just said a string of curse words. I sighed, and gave up reaching for the phone. My arm was getting tired. “Do you have any regard for the rules set out?”

  “Not really.”

  He scoffed at me, and put my phone into his pocket. “How do you expect to be a superhero?”

  “By doing good?”

  “And breaking the law?”

  “Breaking the law doesn’t make you a bad person. Lots of good people have broken the law, sometimes without knowing. The law doesn’t determine who’s good and who’s bad, it determines who’s a rule breaker and who isn’t.”

  Ashley looked utterly confused, not by the statement, by me. He shook his head, and moved round his desk, pulling a large file out from the door while I sat back down in my chair. “Finally your file makes sense.”

  “My file?” The large blue binder had, “Hero High” stamped on the front. Ashley plowed through it, and stopped at a page I could tell he’d reviewed before. “How could you ever be a superhero?” he said in a tone like a carefree laugh laced with hatred. It was the smudge of hate that made me sit up in my chair, and turned my face cold. “You set a water tower on fire!” he said pointing to a page as he read it out. “Because, and I quote Ms. Fitz, ‘My friends bet me I couldn’t set water on fire.’

  “Hey don’t knock it,” I told him, “I got a few hundred bucks out of that, it paid for my new jacket.” It was actually an out of commission water tower no one used anymore, and the money I’d got from it had actually only paid for my family’s water bill, but there was no way I’d tell him that. Ironic. Maybe? Is that how irony works?

  “Oh, I’m not done yet!” he said, clearing his throat before he continued, “you crashed a sports car, and when asked for a reason, you said you were bored.”

  I’d done that to try and get my fathers attention. Not a good reason in retrospect, plus, it didn’t work. “That was an accident,” I told him.

  “You once skipped school to go to Paris for dinner.”

  I had to skip school for a company meeting my father refused to go to, only a few months after the “accident” with the car. It was the first time I’d filled in for my father as CEO. That was when I realized I couldn’t go to school anymore. “I needed some alone time,” I told Ashley.

  “You bought a house with your father’s money-”

  “My money!” I said, and covered my mouth as fast as I could. I wasn’t fast enough.

  I’d signed those papers, I’d done the work, I’d read all the proposals, done all the presentations, talked to all the investors. I ran that tiny company, not my father. That was my money. I’d earned it. But that’s not what I said.

  “I mean, when you’re a family, it’s no one’s personal money, right? It’s everyone’s. That’s why you earn. So if you look at it properly, it was totally just as much my money as it was his.” It was like I was trying to get him to hate me. Ashley looked at me like a tragedy that’d blown his house away, as though I was something he simply couldn’t comprehend.

  He shook his head, turned one last page, and pushed his index finger down so hard on it, it started to go white. “You started a fight club.”

  He had me there. There were some things I could try to justify, but others I couldn’t, that was one of them. What could I say? I wanted to hit something. I was frustrated, I was always frustrated. And rather than hitting innocent bystanders I chose to hit people who’d agreed to it? I didn’t need to tell him about all of those occasions, or my reasoning behind them.

  As I sat there being verbally eviscerated, I knew I was done playing the game with him, interacting with him, looking at him. It was tiring. I had enough to worry about. I got up to leave, throwing my backpack over my shoulder.

  “Detention’s not up yet,” he said.

  “Bite me.” Just as my hand reached for the door it swung open to reveal a smiling Captain Fantastic on the other side.

  “So kids how was tha-”

  I shoved passed him, regretting the action only seconds after as tears pricked at the edge of my eyes. I’d shoved Captain Fantastic, the most perfect man in the world. What was wrong with me?

  “Hey you can’t do that!” Ashley shouted.

  “Did something happen?” The Captain asked, looking to Ashley. He frowned at The Captain, as if everything I’d done was his fault. “It’s alright Ashley, go get something to eat. Let me talk to her.”

  “Don’t waste your time Captain,” Ashley said as he headed towards the elevators. The captain squared his shoulders and smiled

  “I see you and Ashely are getting along well,” said the captain as he caught up with my short stride.

  “I hate him,” I blurted.

  “You hate a lot of people don’t you?” he hummed.

  The moment he said it, he knew who I hated most.

  He clapped me on the back, and the elevator pinged. the Captain extended his arm like a hostess would showing diners to their table, but in this case he introduced an almost middle aged woman with a carefree expression and some brilliant red kicks.

  “This is Lisa Kisaragi. She’s your mentor, Sense. I thought this would be a good time for you two to do some bonding.”

  I’d met a few superheroes, but I never imagined I’d meet Sense!


  ✰✰✰

  “Wait, uh, Ms. Fitz, I mean, Friday?”

  “Yes?”

  “You knew Sense?”

  “Duh! Sense was the longest working superhero in history.” Her eyes light up as she speaks, as though these are all her heroes.

  “Sense was older than Captain Fantastic?” I ask and she thinks for a moment before shaking her head.

  “The Captain took five years off after the Dr. Dangerous trial. Surely you know that?”

  I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Friday. The trial took place before I was born, along with a good chunk of Sense’s career.

  “So what can you tell us about Sense?” I ask her.

  “Her name was Lisa Kisaragi. She was tall and athletic, with a bright smile and black, bouncy hair held back in a ponytail.” Friday searches for what to say next, as though pitching her favorite show or book to me, trying to make sure I leave wanting more. “She’d been working since the age of fourteen, and she had two kids. She wasn’t the most popular hero in the world, most people didn’t know much about her, but people knew her. She was a constant people could always look for, like the Captain.”

  “So, you were a fan?”

  “Boy was I?”

  ✰✰✰

  “I’ll take it from here,” she said, wrapping her arms round the Captain in a quick, familiar bear hug. “Come on then!” and keeping an arm on my back she led me into the elevator. I was standing next to Sense! Sure, I’d met a lot of superheroes, but still. She was really someone you could look up to.

  Back on the lobby floor Jake ran up to me, wrapping me in a half hug, before Lisa took notice of him. “Who’s this, your handler?”

  “Jake Jepsen at your service,” Jake said as he tipped an imaginary hat and held his hand out for her to shake.

  “Well Jake I was just about to take Friday here to some family dinner, how about you come with us?” Sense suggested.

  “I’d love to, but I can’t, I’ve got work to do.” He wiggled his eye brows at me, and I knew he had a date.

  “Well then perhaps another time,” said Sense.

  “Another time.” Jake pulled me into another hug, and Lisa dropped me off at my dorm to change. The sun was starting to set, and it would be dark by the time we got back. I pulled on a jacket and a nice scarf, something worthy of a big city, and ran back down the stairs. Lisa led me down, showed me how to get out of the building without going through the mall, and pulled me into a parking lot. Her car was a sensible mini van, the back seats littered with snacks and toys.

  “Sorry, it’s so messy,” she said, “I haven’t had time to clean.”

  “No worries,” I said, climbing into the beige interior. I closed the door and Lisa pulled out, into the streets of Icon City.

  “Friday, right?” I nodded to her, suppressing a smile.

  “So Friday, what do you want to know about me?”

  I already knew everything. How was I supposed to say that without sounding weird? I settled for, “I know a fair amount of stuff.”

  “Oh, like what?”

  “Well, I know you’ve been a hero for over twenty years,” I told her. Most heroes didn’t last for ten. I mean, they were always in the public eye, but being a superhero is like being an athlete; at some point, you just can’t keep up. Most heroes retire in their early thirties.

  Lisa smiled. “So, you’re probably wondering how old I am, right?”

  I knew. She was thirty seven. It was written on her trading card and I’d brought all my trading cards with me.

  “I’m thirty seven,” she continued, “not old, by any means, but the Hero Channel disagrees. I joined right out of middle school, I’ve been a working superhero since I was fourteen, but I spent my first two years essentially being a water boy.” She said it like the job had been a hassle, but still, she smiled at the memory. “I have two kids, I work almost full-time and my hobbies include, well, being a superhero, being a mother, and now, being a mentor.”

  “So, not much free time then?” I said, stating the obvious.

  “Between the city and my kids? No. Not much. But I don’t mind, that’s how I like it.” Lisa smiled in a way that told me she was far too confident to care if anyone had a problem with her. She pulled the car into an inner city Family Fries, and pulled out her phone, scrolling through a long list of regular orders.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  I was ashamed to admit it, but I had a regular order of my own. I’d grown accustomed to eating fast food, some nights I didn’t have the energy to cook, and no-one was about to do if for me. I took the drinks and spare bags as we were handed the food. It took every ounce of self control not to reach into that bag and eat, just one french fry, but I ignored the rumble in my stomach and concentrated on Sense. She wasn’t an obscure superhero, but she’d never really been front and center, or even on the cover of a magazine. The media always favored the younger generation. As a kid I’d never understood why. I’d seen her save a school bus on TV, and fight off a super villain single handed.

  “I’ve seen some of your, stuff,” I said, but it was a lie, I’d seen all her stuff. “Why do the cameras-? - I mean, they never-”

  She nodded, knowing exactly what I meant, and launched right in. “There are a few reasons. My handler blames the lack of general public interest on my suit: he tells me a fire truck red color scheme isn’t friendly, and I don’t show enough skin.”

  Lisa’s super suit still had elements from her early days as a hero, so it looked a little dated next to the others, with its visor and shoulder pads.

  “The captain’s suit is red,” I told her.

  “Exactly! So what? It’s just not okay on me? And then I say, when you’re a full time mother and a superhero it’s difficult to maintain a swimsuit ready body, so that ship’s already sailed.”

  “Are all the handlers like that?”

  “Most of them. I remember when I started out they thought it was important my suit had boob plates, even though I told them repeatedly it just redirects force to your vital organs. Amateurs.”

  “Boob plates?” I asked. I could guess what it meant, but had never heard the term.

  “Yeah, you know, armor that molds around your boobs, because when you’re fighting, it’s so important your opponent knows you’re a woman.”

  Lisa slowed as she rounded a corner, and eventually pulled into the middle of a neat city street among other family houses. As we pulled into her driveway, Lisa stopped the car under the warm amber lights and waved me out. I picked up the multitude of fast food bags and climbed up to her front door. And I do mean climbed. Her house sat on one of the steeper hills in the city. The moment the door opened the smell of jasmine and antiseptic wafted through the air. The experience was surreal in a way, it felt like those times I’d been over to other kids houses when I was younger, and it just seemed so odd to be in someone else’s home.

  “Mom!” Two kids came rushing up, she dropped her handbag like a brick, caught both of them just in time, and gave each one a kiss on the forehead.

  “Come in kid, in you come.” Without realizing I’d been standing on the other side of the door, too cautious to step in. I tiptoed inside, Lisa slammed her keys down on her kitchen surface, and started handing out the food.

  Her home was like a safe haven of warm calming colors, a cave somewhere far away that lived in the light of the setting sun. The ceilings were two stories high, and a small balcony looked over the living room, where the odd toy or pen had been thrown on the floor. My eyes flew across the room and settled on her family photos. In a crowd of pictures of her kids was a single frame of her and a man. And that was it, one picture, everything else was the kids.

  “James. That was his name,” she said putting her hand on my shoulder.

  “I uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “It’s okay, I’ll tell you about him sometime. But not tonight. Today’s not a day for crying.” He
r kids, Julia and Andrew, had always supported her career, their pride in their mom was obvious. They were far more mature than other kids their age and had often cooked family dinner despite only being eleven. Lisa told me she had married at nineteen and had the kids at twenty five; Julia and Andrew were the best behaved kids I’d ever seen.

  Lisa sat down with them and her hamburger, sighing as they switched over to the Hero Channel. I settled down next to them feeling exhausted, then all of a sudden, one commentator started talking about Sense.

  Lisa’s head snapped round, smiling like her children as she shoved a french fry into her mouth. “See kids, I told ya mama would get there! Turn it up!”

  The blonde woman on TV straightened her papers, and began to speak. “Also in today’s news, the B class hero Sense, will become part of one of the few duo teams on the Hero Channel, others include Silver & Gold, The Sharks, and the occasional team up of Black Magic and Captain Fantastic.”

  Lisa’s smiled drifted into a frown as her hand fumbled around in her pockets for her Hero Program issue phone, panic in her eyes.

  “Didn’t you know?” I asked, “wasn’t this planned?”

  She looked round to me, stepped up from the sofa and started dialing like she was trying to kill the phone. “No, I did not know this was happening.” The TV showed a young man standing behind a podium as he spoke about his new partner Sense. “He’s a debut hero! I’m not working with a child!” said Lisa. Her head spun round to me. “No offense, kid.”

  “None taken,” she nodded at me, and pressed the phone to her ear.

  “Why is this happening?” Lisa asked as I stood and pressed my ear to the phone.

  “Lisa, you’re twenty years in,” said the voice on the other end, “if you want to keep going, we need a reason to keep you. This operation costs some serious dough.”

  “Why give me an eighteen year old?” asked Lisa, pacing the room while I tried hard to follow, “if you want people to fund me, put me in a god damn bikini, I don’t care anymore, this is how I earn. This is how my kids get to go to school and it’s an expensive school!”