The Guardians Omnibus

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  “What did he say?” Ravone squeaked out when he approached them.

  Quinn took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “He said yes!”

  They yipped with excitement for him and threw their arms around him in a joyful group hug.

  “Now you just have to tell your dads,” Blake said. Quinn, Ravone, and Loren ceased their celebration and stared at Blake.

  “Wow,” Loren said. “Way to suck the life out of a happy moment.”

  “What?” Blake said, raising his hands in surrender. “I was thinking it’s the perfect opportunity to come out. You know, ‘Hey dads, I have a date tomorrow after school, and oh yeah, it’s with a guy.’ Boom. Done. Easy.”

  Ravone tilted her head to the side and looked back at Quinn. “You know, he does have a point.” Then, she looped her arm through Blake’s and smiled at him.

  Quinn chuckled. “Yeah, I know. That’s the scary part.” They all laughed and walked to the cafeteria together. Quinn’s joyous grin expressed his satisfaction and accomplishment at asking his crush out. I can’t believe I’ve got a date with Keegan Miller.

  ❖

  “Son, could you come in here please?” Daddio asked.

  “Sure thing, one second,” Quinn called out, balancing a plate of cookies on his hooked left arm while holding a glass in his left hand while pouring milk into it from the jug in his right hand and holding the refrigerator door open with his right knee. When he finished, he carefully set the milk back into the fridge and screwed the cap on with his free hand. Then, taking the plate from his left arm, he walked into the living room to join his dads. They muted the television when he entered, a sign that something wasn’t right.

  Quinn looked at them and swallowed nervously.

  “Have a seat,” Daddio said, feigning a smile.

  “Uh, okay.” He sat on the edge of the couch across from his dads, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do with his milk and cookies.

  “Quinn, Dad and I want to talk to you about something. We hope you feel you can come to us and speak openly about your successes, failures, or whatever is bothering you at any given time. We obviously speak candidly with you, as well.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Quinn answered hesitantly. Are they going to ask for my advice or something?

  Daddio cleared his voice. “We’ve both noticed you’re acting a bit differently since we came back from Rangeley. Are you experiencing any…symptoms we should know about? Do you have aches or pains we should talk with a doctor about?”

  “What?” Quinn asked, thrown off guard by the topic. “No, none at all. In fact, I feel better than ever.”

  “Oh, okay,” Daddio said. He looked at his husband.

  Dad spoke next. “We also, um, noticed you’ve been spending a lot more time with Blake at slightly later hours. That needs to stop on school nights, but…my question is…” He paused and cleared his throat. “Well, there’s no delicate way to ask this, so I’ll just come out with it. Are you and Blake more than friends? Are you…boyfriends?”

  Quinn burst out laughing and nearly spilled the glass of milk in his hand. He shook his head and stamped his feet, reveling in his dads’ moment of confusion. “Oh my gosh, dad! Hell no, we are absolutely not boyfriends,” he responded emphatically with a finality that visibly shocked his dads. He stopped laughing and froze when he saw deep hurt creep onto his father’s faces.

  “Oh, okay. Sorry I asked,” Dad said.

  Aw crap, that came out totally wrong.

  “Wait, that totally didn’t come out the way I wanted it to,” Quinn said. His dads looked at him and waited for him to continue, their faces painfully emotionless. He set his milk and cookies on the end table next to the couch he sat on and walked to the couch his dads were on. He sat on the coffee table and faced them, a dad to his left and right.

  “Blake is my best friend, but he’s straight and will most likely never be my boyfriend.”

  He saw the faintest hint of joy and happiness flash across Daddio’s face.

  Here goes everything…

  “But I do have a date this week with a boy from school named Keegan.”

  Daddio threw his hands up and shrieked with excitement. Dad grinned as tears flowed down his cheeks. He leaned forward and pulled Quinn toward him. They embraced warmly, and Quinn allowed himself to tear up, surprised by how wonderful it felt to be open about his sexuality with his dads.

  “I win,” Daddio said, jumping up and down. “Tim, you have to take us all out to a fabulous celebratory dinner!”

  “Oh, shut up, Aren,” Dad said, laughing as he held his son. “I’m so proud of you, Quinn. I’m so happy you finally felt comfortable telling us.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t think…”

  “Girl, please!” Dad said through tears, pushing Quinn up and snapping his fingers. “Did you honestly think we couldn’t tell?”

  Quinn laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I figured. But, I’m confused…what did Daddio win?”

  Dad start laughing as Daddio sat down next to them and wrapped his arms around both of them.

  “I won the bet, silly,” Daddio said, laughing. “I said you’d come out to us this year. Tim said you’d come out to us last year. Whoever won had to take the family out to celebrate at the restaurant of your choice. So, where are we going? Dad’s got the ching ching burning in his pocket!”

  “You should never use slang like that, Daddio,” Quinn said laughing. Then, he took a deep breath and looked at his dads. “We’re really going to celebrate this?”

  “Oh yes!” Daddio said, dramatically nodding his head. “With an emphasis on fabulousness!”

  Quinn smiled mischievously. “Then we’re going to get all gussied up and go to one of Portsmouth’s finest and best dining experiences ever.”

  “McDonalds?” Daddio quipped, chuckling.

  Quinn rolled his eyes. “How very dare you! We’re going to SALT at the Wentworth by the Sea.”

  “An excellent choice,” Dad said, smiling through tears. Daddio clapped his hands in agreement.

  Quinn took a deep breath and smiled at his dads. What the hell was I so afraid of?

  ❖

  Blake

  Blake steered his bike onto Andrew Jarvis Drive past the line of parents and students heading to the school parking lots and drop-off zones. He immediately became aware of Quinn’s presence in his mind and made his way toward their usual before-school spot. Something seemed off with Quinn, but he couldn’t put his finger on it using his proximity power, an ability they had yet to name.

  As he rode to the bike lockup, he saw Quinn and then his stomach dropped. The school bully Darien James and his obnoxious friends were clustered around his best friend. He didn’t see Ravone or Loren, which meant Quinn was fending off the bullies alone. He could only assume they were making fun of him, so he changed direction and rode toward the mess, using his super hearing to figure out what was going on.

  “You’re just a freak, McAlester,” Darien said. “Lightning strike or not, you and Blake are freaks.”

  Blake braked to a stop behind Darien and jumped off his bike, letting it crash to the ground. Darien and his friends spun around, surprised.

  “Speaking of…”

  Blake charged him, ready to punch his lights out. “If you have something to say about me, then say it to my face, Darien.” Blake stopped, inches away from Darien’s face.

  Darien blinked, his mouth falling open in surprise.

  “Got nothing to say?” Blake shouted.

  “Easy, Hargreaves, I was just having fun.”

  “That didn’t sound like fun to me, Darien!” Blake yelled back.

  Quinn shifted over and stepped into his line of sight, his eyes suggesting he be very careful.

  “Leave us alone. It’s only a matter of time before one of us pops off on you,” Blake said, backing down.

  Darien grinned. “I know. I can’t wait to beat your stupid face into the ground.” Then, he shoved Blake out of the way and walked to the scho
ol. His small group of friends followed him, snickering as they left. One of them kicked Blake’s bike, which didn’t do anything except further upset Blake.

  “It’s okay, buddy. They’re just being obnoxious. They weren’t hitting me or anything,” Quinn said.

  “No!” Blake said, rounding on his friend. “They pick on you all the time. Enough is enough. If you won’t put them in their place, I will.”

  “What do you want me to do, get in a fight with them at school?” Quinn asked, hands held out in exasperation. “That’s not going to go over well with the principal or my parents and you know it.”

  Blake looked away for a moment, contemplating his next move. He watched a group of football seniors and their girlfriends walking toward the main entrance. One of the girls had forgotten her half-full plastic iced-latte cup on the bench they had been sitting at.

  An idea formed in his head, and he smiled. “You’re right. There are other ways to get even with him. I’ll be right back, I need to lock up my bike,” he said, bending over to pick up his bicycle.

  “Okay, but don’t do anything stupid,” Quinn cautioned.

  “I won’t.” Blake picked his bike up and walked to the lockup, which was not near the bench with the iced-latte. For all those times you picked on Quinn, called him Quinn the Queer, pantsed him in the locker room, threatened him, and belittled him for no reason in front of the track team…

  He focused on the plastic cup with his mind and then hurled it at Darien. It exploded on his back side, soaking him with ice-cold latte.

  Darien swore and spun around, fuming as he pulled off his soaked sweatshirt. He and his friends looked around, but they couldn’t figure out where the plastic cup had come from. Darien stomped on it and stormed toward the school.

  Blake chuckled, watching the action from the corner of his eye as he threaded his bike lock through the bike’s frame.

  “Darien!” Mrs. White, an English Lit teacher, called out from behind them. “No littering. Pick up your cup, please.”

  “It’s not mine,” Darien protested.

  She shook her head and waved her hand. “Doesn’t matter whose it is. I just saw you stomp on it, so it’s yours now. Please pick it up and dispose of it properly.”

  Blake smirked as he finished securing his bike. He grabbed his backpack and watched Darien pick up the smashed coffee cup with his thumb and index finger, treating it like the most disgusting object in the world.

  I’m going to make your life miserable, buddy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

  A moment later, the broken plastic cup flew from Darien’s fingers and smacked him in the face before falling to the ground again.

  “What the hell?” he cried out. His confused friends looked at him and shrugged.

  “Just throw it out already,” Mrs. White instructed as she walked past them, shaking her head in disappointment.

  Darien bent over to pick the cup up but it flew up and smacked him in the face a second time.

  “Dammit!” he shouted.

  “Language!” Mrs. White retorted.

  Blake chuckled and turned back to Quinn. Loren and Ravone were talking with him and not paying attention to the drama. Blake felt good about what he had done. After all, it was Victor who had confirmed his desires to hurt those who made others suffer.

  2-4 | Unexpected Reveal

  Quinn

  A FEW DAYS LATER, QUINN walked down State Street toward Prescott Park, a hot chocolate beverage he had picked up from Breaking New Grounds in each hand. Although the fall weather had cooled from the summer months, his palms were sweaty and he felt nervous, nauseous, and very excited at the same time for his late-afternoon date with Keegan. On top of his nerves, the long line at the coffee shop stressed him out and made him late. He hoped Keegan would wait around for him because with a drink in each hand, he couldn’t text him an ETA.

  It was four-thirty and the end-of-day commuter traffic had begun. Cars and pedestrians clogged the narrow Portsmouth streets and sidewalks. At the moment, the only thing moving on State Street was pedestrian traffic—the road had become a parking lot. Quinn surmised the drawbridge on the Memorial Bridge had gone up so a large fishing boat or cargo ship could pass under it. He crossed Atkinson Street and a moment later, he caught sight of the commotion that had stopped traffic. The drawbridge was down, but ambulance and rescue vehicles with flashing lights had blocked traffic on the land side of the Portsmouth drawbridge tower.

  On the sidewalks and in their stopped cars, people gawked at the tower while pointing at its peak and excitedly talking about something Quinn couldn’t make out. He decided to ask a bystander for details. “What’s going on?”

  A mother with two small children in a twins stroller pointed at the bridge. “A workman fell off the tower and they seem to be having a hard time getting him back up to safety.”

  “Oh wow, thanks,” Quinn responded, his eyes finding and focusing on the man in peril. Two tangled straps held him upside down in the air several feet from the topmost edge. He was trying to upright himself and climb back up to safety. Two other workmen struggled to reach him and pull him up. The two safety straps suspending the man seemed to hold him in place, but one had more slack than the other.

  Quinn’s heart sank, but his adrenaline surged. You can save him, you can catch him. But it’s daylight and there are tons of people here…what do I do? This moment will make me the world’s first superhero, whether I want to be or not…am I ready for this?

  With his super hearing focused on the top of the tower, Quinn heard a snap. People screamed as the man’s taut safety strap failed. The slacked safety strap became taut and held the man, but only after dropping him fifteen-to-twenty feet. Quinn heard the man’s head strike one of the angled bracings as he fell. Now, unconscious and seriously injured, the workman swung freely in the wind, his limp body hanging in front of the massive counterweight.

  “How did that happen?” a man shouted. “That strap won’t hold him for long.”

  “He’s not going to make it,” an older woman said, horror filling her voice.

  What the hell do I do? I can't walk away and let this guy fall to his death. I have to help him, this is way different from the red car I accidentally stopped on Daniel Street to save the toddler…

  “We’re going, kids,” the mother of two said to her children in the stroller. “We don’t need to see what happens next.” She pushed her children across the street between the stopped cars and then walked away from the commotion.

  Quinn looked around. With everyone distracted, I could fly up from right here…wait, there’s a better way. I know what I should do.

  He set the two hot chocolates down on a window sill of a shopfront and jogged back to Atkinson Street, darting through the obstacle course of bystanders. He pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head and rounded the corner. He looked around, glancing at windows for faces, but he saw no one. It’s now or never…

  Quinn’s powers ignited like never before as he pushed off the ground and flew down Atkinson Street and then banked left over Court Street. He flew between the buildings and then straight through the line of trees in front of him in Prescott Park. Then, Quinn heard people scream when the man’s safety strap failed and he plummeted toward the control booth.

  Faster!

  Quinn increased his speed and flew across the water, a wake spraying into the air behind him. At the last second, he soared up to the unconscious man and paused briefly to catch the man in his arms at the half-way point of his fall.

  Gotcha!

  He accelerated and banked right around the tower, soaring gracefully around it with the man in his arms.

  “What the hell?” the man said, regaining consciousness. His arms wrapped around Quinn when he realized he was flying through the air.

  “You’re safe now,” Quinn answered, deepening his voice in an attempt to disguise it. “I’m bringing you back down.”

  “Are you flying?” the petrified man asked, h
is voice shrill with awe and terror.

  “Yeah, pretty cool, huh?” Quinn asked, laughing. Around him, people cheered and applauded wildly as Quinn brought his feet down to land on the bridge deck in the center of the gathered emergency vehicles. He said nothing as he handed the man over to the paramedics.

  “Thank you, thank you so much,” the man said, giving him a big hug. “I have a wife and a newborn baby…thank you for saving me…whoever you are.”

  Quinn smiled and nodded at the man. He looked around, knowing his eyes and body were glowing blue and his face was obscured. A few stunned police officers had their hands on their weapons while others stared at him in disbelief.

  Quinn saluted and then looked up. A moment later he soared away, laughing as he looped over the bridge. He flew through the tower under the counterweight and then blasted away to the open ocean. There was no way he could return to Prescott Park with his glowing body and everyone looking for him in the sky.

  Crap…my date…

  ❖

  Blake

  Blake pedaled home after work, his thoughts returning to the unique adventure from several nights back as he entered the Atlantic Heights neighborhood.

  I should have gone after those guys…I should have made them pay for what they did. Who knows how many other women they’ve victimized?

  He took a deep breath and steered his bike down Raleigh Street and rolled into the driveway. After securing his bike, he walked toward the back door and sighed; his parents were at it again. Even without his super hearing, their voices carried through the walls into the cool evening air. He took a deep breath and opened the back door.

  Ralph rounded on him. “There he is! And where exactly have you been?”

  “I’ve been working, dad. I was at the coffee shop.”

  “The coffee shop closes at five-thirty. Don’t lie to me!”

  Blake checked the wall clock behind his father. “It’s six-thirty. It takes a half-hour to clean up and set up for tomorrow. Then it takes me fifteen minutes to bike home.”

  “Then you should have been home fifteen minutes ago,” Ralph yelled back.