Learning To Fly

by DeMaris, Charles

  “I figure a hell of a lot.”

  “Exactly. Man, this is awesome.”

  “Awesome? What exactly is so awesome about it?”

  “It’s like being in a real life comic book, man. Now you gotta get yourself a suit, hide your identity and all. Man, bad guys don’t stand a chance against you. They can’t shoot you and you can knock ‘em two blocks with one punch. Well, maybe you should work on toning down the punch a bit. Guys in the comic books don’t kill people.”

  “You think I killed that guy?”

  “You hit him in the jaw. It’s a wonder his head didn’t come off.”

  “Suppose you tell me a bit about yourself. How does a kid your age end up on the streets?”

  “You first. How does an old white dude end up living in Clifton? Nothing but college students around this area. You don’t look like a student.”

  “Cancer.”

  “You got cancer?”

  “No, Marcy did. We had a nice enough house up near Norwood, treatments dragged on, took all our money. Sold the house…went through that money…and she went to be with the Lord. This place was cheap…just don’t feel like going through the hassle of moving now. Too lazy, I reckon.”

  “Oh man…that sucks. How long ago?”

  “Ten years…seems like yesterday. She was my reason to live. Now…I’m just puttin’ in my time until the Lord sees fit to take me.”

  Franklin wiped a tear from his eyes.

  “So, kid, what about you? You got a story? Where are your parents?”

  “My mom…didn’t know her well…she’s with your wife…hope she is.”

  “Is she dead?”

  “When I was eight…found her in a gas station bathroom…overdose. Dad…not sure which prison he’s in now. Don't care much.”

  Walter was now the one to wipe a tear away.

  “Well, kid. Doesn’t seem like you were dealt the best hand, does it?”

  “You can say that again.”

  “How’d you end up on the streets?”

  “Didn’t like the last foster home.”

  “You just didn’t like the family?”

  “You know how white people are.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Man, they’re whiter than white, wanted to make me a nice white boy too. Well, maybe not. Sure seemed like it at the time. I didn’t take kindly to their rules and I just split.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Year and a half.”

  “You hungry?”

  “Maybe, you got anything?”

  “My fridge is pretty bare, but Kroger is still open. Put some shoes on.”

  “We gonna walk to Kroger?”

  “No, silly. I got my car running. We’re going shopping.”

  Franklin pushed the cart through the aisles at Kroger while Walter bought all manner of things he hadn’t seen since the last foster home.

  “You like that cereal?” Walter asked.

  “Uh…yeah.”

  “Grab a couple boxes then.”

  They filled the cart and went toward the checkout.

  “Man, that’s a lot of food. How long’s it gonna take you to eat all that?” Franklin asked.

  “You’re gonna help me.”

  “Come again?”

  “Yeah, I’ll need help with all that. Maybe tomorrow we’ll go up to Rookwood and get some more clothes too.”

  “You saying I can stay with you or something?”

  “Well, I’m not letting you hang on the streets any longer. We’ll talk more when we’re home.”

  When they finished putting the food away, Walter showed Franklin where the food bowls were for the dog.

  “There’s a big bag of dog food in that cabinet there. He gets a scoop in the morning and a scoop in the evening, and he goes through that whole bowl of water a couple times a day.”

  “He eats that much?”

  “You don’t want him sizing you up, do you?”

  “Maybe not.”

  “His morning meal is 7:00 am, and after that he usually has to go outside and…what was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “A woman screaming her head off outside.”

  “I don’t hear anything.”

  “It’s clear as a bell. Doesn’t sound good either.”

  “You gonna do anything about it?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “You don’t have those powers for nothing.”

  “You coming with me? I might need backup.”

  They walked out of the apartment and Walter still heard the woman screaming. He followed the sound of the screams and broke into a run. Franklin tried to keep up, but couldn’t. Finally he reached Park Dr. heading into Bellevue Hill Park. He stopped for a moment, sure the screaming was coming from the park. Franklin heard the screaming now and stopped at the park entrance, winded from sprinting down the street trying to keep up with Walter.

  Walter scanned the park and what he saw made his blood boil. Two young men had a woman down on the ground and had her shirt off. One man was holding her at gunpoint while the other was trying to pull her pants off.

  “Why don’t you boys leave the lady alone?” Walter said, walking up to the scene.

  “Why don’t you mind your own business, old man, if you know what’s best for you.”

  “My business is making sure you leave this young lady alone. I don’t have all night. It’s past my bed time, so why don’t you fellows just put the gun away and re-think your entertainment options for the evening.”

  “Have it your way, old man,” the one with the gun said, pointing it at Walter.

  Walter kept coming toward him. “Why don’t you put that thing away before someone gets hurt?”

  “Only one gonna get hurt is you,” he said, still training the gun on Walter, holding it sideways.

  “Come on, man, let’s go. No need to waste the geezer,” his friend said.

  “What do you mean? He’s seen us. We’re in trouble.”

  “No man, it’s dark. Let’s just get out of here.”

  “You heard your friend. No need to start any trouble,” Walter said, still approaching.

  “You stay where you are. Don’t come any closer.”

  Walter took two more steps, and the man pulled the trigger three times. All three bullets hit Walter’s chest and fell toward the ground, flattened. He reached his hand down and caught them before they hit the ground and held his hand out to the gunman.

  “You want these back? Not sure how useful they are now.”

  “Oh crap, who the hell are you?”

  The other young man, seeing what was happening and thinking Walter was wearing a vest, pulled a knife and sneaked up from behind, prepared to plunge the knife in his back. He raised the knife and struck, and the jolt that went up his arm was like he had tried to stick a brick wall. The knife fell from his hands. Walter turned around, making a fist, and remembering the thief from earlier, gave the man a light tap on the temple, knocking him out instantly. The gunman fired two more rounds, both as ineffectual as the earlier shots were, and tried to make a run for it. Walter was on him in two strides and yanked the gun from his hand before knocking him out.

  Franklin had observed all this from a safe distance, but now he came forward to find Walter helping the young lady get dressed.

  “Thanks Mister,” she said, “How did you…where did you come from?”

  “I was in the neighborhood,” Walter said.

  “Well, thank you. What’s gonna happen to those guys?”

  “Call the police. Don’t tell them everything you saw here.”

  3

  The police car arrived at the park and two officers got out of. They walked up to see two men knocked out on the ground and a young woman sitting there calmly waiting for them.

  “Hello ma’am. Are you the one who called us?”

  “Yes…yes sir.”

  “And these two are the men who assaulted you?”

&nb
sp; “Yes.”

  “My name’s Ken, and you are?” he said, sticking out his hand.

  “I’m Lily…Lily Johnson.”

  “Do you live far from here, Lily?”

  “Not too far, over on Euclid.”

  “Would you like a ride home?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Okay…Mike, you care to keep an eye on our guests there while I run the young lady home?”

  Lily got in the car and told the officer everything that happened on the way home.

  “Well, here we are. Do you want to press charges?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll head to the station and type up a report based on what you told me, and then tomorrow you can stop by and sign it if you want. Do you have a way to come down tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I believe I can do that.”

  “Now, let me get this straight. The two men were knocked out by an old man who then just left?”

  “Yes, sir. He showed up, punched the one guy out cold, then chased the other one and knocked him out too. They almost…they were about to…I’d like to thank him.”

  “You don’t have any idea who it was?”

  “No…he said he was in the neighborhood. Just some old guy.”

  “Old guy?”

  “Not sure how old, sixty or seventy maybe?”

  “Okay Lily,” he said, handing her a card, “If you remember anything else, feel free to give me a call. I’m going to head back to the park now so we can book your assailants.”

  “Thank you, officer.”

  “Hey Ken, get a load of this,” Mike said when his partner returned to the park.

  “Get a load of what?”

  “One of them is awake, or halfway. I got ‘em both cuffed, but I did some walking around. Found his gun and found these.” He held his hand out to Ken, showing him five flattened bullets.

  “What did these hit?”

  “They were just lying in the grass over there, not close to anything. I don’t know what they hit, but this guy is mumbling about shooting someone and nothing happening. Now we have bullets in the middle of the grass looking like they were fired into a stone wall. What gives?”

  “The girl didn’t say anything about gunfire.”

  “She was almost raped. It might take her a while to remember everything.”

  “She said an old guy knocked the two men out.”

  “That’s for sure. One might have a concussion.”

  “Well, let’s get them down to the station. I’m gonna need to do a report.”

  “The girl wants to press charges?”

  “Yeah, even said she’d stop by to sign the report tomorrow.”

  Walter sat down in his recliner with a can of beer and put his feet up.

  “You been waiting a while to drink that,” Franklin said.

  “Yeah, figure I’ve earned it too.”

  “What you do with those bullets?”

  “Don’t have ‘em. Think I dropped ‘em in the grass back there.”

  “You know the cops will find those.”

  “Probably. Won't matter much.”

  “Man, we gotta figure out what all you can do.”

  “Why do we need to do that?”

  “Can’t be a superhero if you don’t know what your powers are.”

  “Kid…I’m not any superhero. You read too many comics.”

  “Tell that to the girl who didn’t get raped tonight.”

  “Anyone would have tried to stop it.”

  “And anyone else would have been killed. Dude, those bullets bounced off you like Superman. You’re Superman.”

  “I don’t think so. Might be some trademark or copyright issues with that.”

  “Well, you’re gonna need a name, an outfit, a secret identity…”

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself, kid.”

  “You can stop calling me kid. I’m eighteen.”

  “When you get to my age, everyone’s a kid.”

  “What do we know so far? You’re strong as hell and bulletproof. That’s a good start. Bad guys can’t shoot you, and you can just knock ‘em out like it’s nothing. Could get kind of boring.”

  “What’s boring about not getting shot?”

  “All the superheroes got a nemesis, the big bad dude that’s a match for them. Villain that’s also got powers. Just yesterday, there weren’t any people with powers. This ain’t the comic world, where you got dudes all over with powers. It’s just you. That’s wouldn’t sell many comics.”

  “Lex Luthor didn't have any powers.”

  “But he was super smart.”

  “How smart. He always got caught.”

  “See, you know how this works. You read comics?”

  “I read them when I was your age. Haven’t picked one up in years.”

  “I haven’t read many lately either. You tired?”

  “Not really. I slept all day. I would like to finish this beer, if you’ll let me.”

  “Finish it, then let’s walk over to UC.”

  “Why would we want to go over there at this hour?”

  “Man, when you were running up to the park, when we heard the girl, I couldn’t keep up with you. You were running crazy fast, like super fast. You know that area they got over by the baseball field?”

  “Those fields, before the football stadium?”

  “Yeah, got a soccer field with a track around it. We gotta see how fast you are.”

  “I don’t think we should be trespassing around there at this hour.”

  “Ain’t no cops there at night. I go there all the time, walk around the track and stuff. Sometimes a cop will tell me to leave and I do. No big deal.”

  Walter downed the rest of the beer in one big drink and crushed the can.

  “What the hell. I’m not gonna get any sleep tonight, anyway.”

  Walter started jogging around the track, feeling like he did in his twenties, lap after lap without any sign of fatigue. Franklin stood by the track with a stopwatch, timing the laps.

  “How you feeling?” he asked when Walter passed him, ninety minutes later.

  “This feels great,” Walter said the next time around, “Not even getting tired, and I must have done miles.”

  “You’ve already done a marathon, in record time probably…more than a marathon. If I’m counting the laps right, you’re over thirty-two miles.”

  Walter stopped and stood there for a second, not even panting.

  “You sure about that? How long have we been here?”

  “Over an hour and a half, and you’ve done over thirty-two miles. You’re not even winded.”

  “No. This feels damn good. I could run the pig. How much they pay to the winner?”

  “You could, but the Flying Pig was last month.”

  “Oh…but I’m kinda fast.”

  “You looked relaxed. You think you could go faster?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  Walter got back on the track and pushed it, eventually going so fast Franklin had trouble counting the laps. One lap was blending into another as Walter would pass him by and be there again in under a second. He gave up trying to count and put the stopwatch back in his pocket. He did some mental math, trying to figure out how fast Walter was running to be doing an entire lap in under a second. He picked up Walter’s phone and began shooting video. Five minutes later he thought he detected smoke and when he looked up, Walter was nothing but a blur going around the track.

  It looked like the blur was showing no signs of slowing down, not until Walter lost his footing and slid off the track into the building next to the field, knocking a pile of bricks loose.

  “Whoa…what happened?” Franklin said as Walter was dusting himself off.

  Walter pointed down toward his shoes, which were nothing but smoking ribbons.

  “You were booking. What did it feel like?”

  “Like nothing you can imagine. I didn’t feel like I was going that fast, but li
ke everything else was just so slow. It was weird. I could feel the wind, but it didn’t sting. You would think it would sting, going that fast. How fast was I going, anyway?”

  “Have to do the math…let’s see…man. I don’t believe it.”

  “How fast?”

  “Right before you had the blow out? 750 miles an hour.”

  “Almost Mach 1…holy moly.”

  “Mach 1…the speed of sound?”

  “Yeah, it’s around 760 something.”

  “You do that again, you’re gonna need better shoes.”

  “Not sure where we’d get those. I felt like I could go faster, like there was a whole other level.”

  “That is so cool. I wonder what else you can do.”

  “You want me to try to leap a tall building or something?”

  “You don’t think you can do that, do you?”

  “I don’t know…man…I’m hungry.”

  “You probably burned a ton of calories. Hey, you up for a drive?”

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Saw on TV that IHOP has an all you can eat pancake special going on right now. I wonder where the closest one is.”

  “Oakley.”

  “How far is that?”

  “Not far, up off exit 8.”

  “You could run there in a minute, but I’d never keep up with you.”

  “Hold on, kid.”

  Walter ran home put on a pair of shoes and was back in seconds. He then scooped Franklin up and in less than a minute they were walking in the door of IHOP.

  “Five miles in a few seconds?” Franklin asked.

  “I was taking it slow. Not sure what you could handle. Let’s eat.”

  Ninety minutes later, Keisha Thompson walked back into the kitchen, shaking her head.

  “The old dude’s still going at it. Might need some more.”

  “That guy’s been eating this whole time?” Larry Owens asked.

  “Yeah, the young guy with him had a breakfast combo and a couple pancakes. The old guy’s been eating solid the whole time. I’ve never seen someone eat so much.”

  “We got anyone else in the dining room?”

  “Just those two Xavier students, but they’re just having coffee right now.”

  “Check on him before I make more.”

  “You guys doing okay? You want more pancakes?” Keisha asked.