Super (Book 4): Supervised

by Princess Jones

  It seemed like it only took for three or four minutes to get to Queens, but I think that was because I was high on the experience. Nathaniel brought us down lightly on 71st Ave in a residential area of Flushing, Queens. Row houses dotted the street on tiny parcels of land. At this time of night, it was quiet. Nathaniel looked at me tentatively. “Are you OK? The first time can be a little rough. You look a little. . . funny.”

  Um, that’s because my mind was just blown to pieces, I thought. But I just said “Oh, I’m great!”

  “It’s just over here. We’re going to go in the back. I saw a vulnerability in security there. They have a doggie door. You go through it and then unlock the door for me—”

  “Wait. A doggie door? Why can’t we just bust down the door.”

  He looked at me like I was stupid. “Because then he’d hear us coming. That’s the problem we had the other night. We tried to force our way in, and in the chaos, he was able to slip out.”

  “But what about the dog? If they have a doggie door, they’ve got a dog, right?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “The dog died a couple of months ago. I checked. Once you let me in, we’ll make our way to the back room, which is apparently where he spends most of his time. We’ll get eyes on him and I want you to confirm that it’s him. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Follow me.” Nathaniel walked swiftly through the underbrush and hopped the chain-link fence that surrounded the yard. Then he kept low as he crossed the yard. I followed behind him, mimicking his movements with a lot less grace. We made it to the back porch and he turned to check that was close enough to him. He pointed to the door and I saw a doggie door he’d mentioned earlier. And that’s when I panicked.

  “Nathaniel, I can’t fit in there!” I whispered. He had vastly misjudged my size. That door was about the size of my head. I didn’t know whether to be happy he thought was that small or worried that I was about to put an end to the mission.

  “You’ll fit,” he whispered back aggressively. “Just do it.”

  His tone made it clear I didn’t have any choice. I got down on all fours and tried to make it work. I pushed my head through the plastic door and looked inside. It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see a thing. I pushed one of my arms through the door and then had to deal with my chest. I was trying to work my other arm and my boobs through when I felt two hands on my waist and a hard push through the opening.

  I felt something pop in my shoulder. Fuck!!!! I screamed in my head. I don’t know how I refrained from screaming out loud at that moment but I did. My shoulder was burning with pain and I was sure I’d dislocated it. Another push from Nathaniel and I was all the way in. I stood up through the pain then used my good hand to unlock the two locks and the chain on the door.

  Nathaniel stepped inside. “Why did you do that?” I whimpered.

  “You were taking too long. What’s wrong? Your shoulder?” He casually reached over and popped it back into place. It still hurt but at least I could move it again.

  Nathaniel didn’t wait for me to think about it too much. He moved purposely through the house and I trailed behind him hoping he didn’t have any other plans for me to be useful. When we got to the end of the hall, he put his hand on the door knob and turned back. He made a gesture with his finger to his eyes to remind me to keep my eyes opened.

  He opened the door with a swift movement and stopped short. I was thinking he’d be running into the room so I was taken surprised when he didn’t and I ran right into his back. He let out a “What the—”

  I peeped around him to see what he was looking at. It was a small room and most of it was taken up by a big hospital bed. There were a few machines next to it, attached to a man who was lying prone in the bed. I was just as shocked as Nathaniel was. This guy was old. He definitely wasn’t the one I saw in the car that night.

  Nathaniel finally moved into the room and turned on the light. “Is this the one you saw?” I shook my head no. Not unless I saw him thirty years ago.

  The man opened his eyes. He looked as confused as we were. “What’s going on?” His voice was feeble, barely audible.

  But suddenly, a much louder voice, filled with a Caribbean lilt, come from behind us. “What is going on in here? Who are you?” A dark skinned, heavy set woman wearing a set of pink scrubs came running into the room. “Why are you here disturbing, Mr. DeLeon?”

  Nathaniel pointed to the old man. “This is Lenny DeLeon?”

  “Yes!” the woman yelled. “And we don’t let him have visitors this late. He needs his sleep. You can come back in the morning.”

  Nathaniel ignored her orders. “Are you the only two here?”

  “Of course! He’s an old sick man who lives alone. That’s why he needs nurses twenty-four-seven.”

  “Man, his driver’s license picture is old,” I mumbled to myself. Somehow I had a feeling this was all going to blow back on me.

  DeLeon spoke again. “This is about renewing my license? I don’t drive anymore. Do I need to go to the DMV?” he asked his nurse. His hearing must have been going, too.

  Nathaniel grabbed my arm and pushed me toward the door. “Let’s go.” We left the same way we came, with the nurse yelling about calling the cops behind us.

  *****

  Nathaniel walked straight out the back door of DeLeon’s house, hooked a right, and kept walking until he was back on the street in front of the house. He still didn’t stop walking. My legs were a lot shorter than his. I had to chase after him to keep up with this large man stomping down the Queens sidewalk in the middle of the night.

  “Hey, I’m sorry!” I blurted out. “He really did look like the guy I saw at the warehouse.”

  He stopped walking and whipped around to face me. “No. I’m sorry,” he said, in a tone that indicated that he was definitely not sorry. “I’m sorry that I ignored my gut instinct about you. I live by gut. It’s how I’ve been doing this for so long. It’s how I became head of my district. I have pride in what I do and who I am.”

  “I do, too!”

  “No, you don’t. Have you seen your file? I thought that by being your mentor, you’d be inspired to do better. Everyone warned me. But I didn’t listen. I thought I could help you. But I was wrong and you were right. Everything you touch turns to shit.” He turned his back to me and started walking again.

  I was the one who had told him that but it hurt to hear it come out of his mouth. “Well, I wasn’t the one who let El Gato go out the back of the warehouse. I wasn’t the one who didn’t realize that DeLeon was an old, sick man. Are those my mistakes, too? Maybe you’re the reason I’m not off probation, yet.”

  He was in my face in an instant. I didn’t even see him close the space between us. He was ten feet away from me and then suddenly he was ten centimeters away from my face. The thought occurred to me that if Nathaniel ever decided to fight me, he’d probably could have torn me apart. Knowing that, I didn’t move. He could do his worst. I knew I’d heal from it and it probably wouldn’t hurt as much as hearing that I was a pity case that turned out badly.

  But he didn’t hit me. Instead, took two large steps back. Then he reached into one of the invisible pockets of his suit. He pulled out a bright red piece of paper and held it up. “Is this what you want?”

  It was too dark to make out anything but the Council crest at the top. “What is this?”

  “It’s your probation release. You’re done. You passed.”

  “I passed? How?” Was this a trick?

  “I’m done with you,” he sneered. “I’ll give you whatever you want as long as it means you’ll stop trying to help me.” Then he crumpled up the paper and threw at me.

  He started walking away again. And this time I didn’t stop him. He broke into a run and then jumped, taking off into the air. I watched until he was gone. I picked up my probation release and stuffed it into my pocket. And then I tried to figure out how to get back to Brooklyn.

  Chapter 15


  Being stranded in Queens in the middle of the night sucked. Especially since I hadn’t brought my MetroCard or my wallet with me. The only thing in my Super suit was a key to my apartment and my probation release paper. The only option was for me to hop a turnstile and get a train home. The fact that I was breaking the law while wearing my Super suit was both funny and tragic—just like my entire life.

  Even though I was dressed like I was going to Comic Con, no one really paid attention to me on the train. This was New York City. People were used to seeing weirdos. The most attention I got was from a guy on the train who was reading a comic book. “Who are you supposed to be?” he finally asked.

  “No one you would care about,” I told him.

  I saw Mellie sitting on the stoop to my building before she saw me. She was rifling through a bag tote bag. She had on no makeup. She was wearing a pair of sweats and her hair was in a messy ponytail. She looked like a slightly less rumpled version of me. I’d never seen her look so bad. “What are you doing here? What’s wrong?”

  Her voice trembled as she said, “Everything. Just everything.”

  I hustled her into the building and into my apartment. “Um, in the movies they always offer people tea or something with they’re upset. But I don’t think I have that. I think I have some cherry vanilla ice cream, though. Will that help?”

  Mellie collapsed on my couch. “No, no, I don’t need anything,” she sniffled. She didn’t even comment on the suit. I don’t think she notice it, that’s how upset she was.

  I ran over to the bathroom and grabbed a handful of toilet paper. She took it from me, dabbed her eyes, and then blew her nose in it. “OK, Mellie, you have to tell me what’s going on. Just tell me. Crash and I don’t judge.” Crash waved his fins in agreement.

  “We broke up.”

  “Who?”

  “Me and Kevin!” she wailed.

  “But why?”

  “The wedding stuff. I’ve been working so hard on it. Bridget was actually right. A few months is not a long time to put together everything. I still need a dress. We need to figure out a menu.” She started to pull stuff out of the big bag she was carrying—sample catering menus, collages, notes. By this point she was all out sobbing.

  I gently took her hands and physically prevented her from taking out anything else out of that bag. “But why did you and Kevin break up?”

  “Because he thinks it’s too much. He was being all flippant about the invitations and they have to be done like today so that we can get them out. And he wasn’t answering my calls today so Bridget went over to his office. And that made him really mad. Now he’s saying he thinks we should slow down all of the planning. He said it was getting to be too much. He said that he didn’t think I was the kind of girl to act like this. What does that even mean?” She dissolved into a puddle of tears again.

  I’d never seen Mellie like this. As long as I’d known her, she’d been a well put together fun girl. This was the exact opposite of that. And so I told her what I’d think if I were in that situation. “Well, maybe it’s just not meant to be.”

  Mellie stopped sniffling. “What?”

  “I mean, if it’s this hard, maybe you shouldn’t get married. Maybe it’s a sign from the universe.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her face still red but it was with anger instead of tears now.

  “Whoa. Don’t get upset. I was just trying—”

  Mellie started gathering up the stuff she had pulled out of her bag. “Audrey, I want to get married. I’m ready to get married. I’m in love with Kevin. He’s in love with me. We’re not going to let some stupid planning stuff break us up. I’m not going to let a stupid wedding keep me from being married.” She stood up and started to button up her coat.

  “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “I’m going home. I’m going to talk to Kevin and we’re going to figure this shit out.”

  “But you said—”

  “I know what I said. But just because something would be hard to do doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. And just because quitting seems easy doesn’t make it the right thing to do.” She opened the door and started to go. But she paused and turned back to me. “And don’t forget to get your dress. Nacho Cheese is your color.”

  I gave her a thumbs up. “I remember.”

  “Good.” And with that, she was gone. I turned back around and my eyes landed on Crash swimming around his bowl. And the look on his face said he was definitely judging me.

  Chapter 16

  It’s funny how when you’re a kid, going to bed is punishment. You’ll do anything to avoid it. But as an adult, sleeping is the best thing ever. I can’t think of anything I’d like to do more than get in my bed, close my eyes, and forget about the world. I spent most of Saturday sleeping. Between the failed El Gato mission, and the swirling piece of shit that was my personal life, I deserved a little time unconscious.

  After all of the drama yesterday with the task force and Mellie, I’d slept in and then hung out on my couch all day. By mid-afternoon, it was time to paint apartment 2C. The owner had already approved someone to rent the place. I just needed to give it a fresh coat of paint before they moved in.

  By the time Outside Bob appeared in the doorway of the apartment that evening, I was in the home stretch. I’d already done everything but the living room. “You should open more of these windows. The fumes aren’t good for you. They can cause permanent brain damage.” He paused. “I mean, more brain damage than you already have.”

  “Where have you been?” The irony of me asking the guy who loitered around the building why he wasn’t loitering more often was not lost on me. Still, I was used to seeing him around and he’d been MIA lately.

  Bob started cracking a couple of the windows in the room while I continued to paint. “I’ve been handling my business. I can’t hang around here all day. I have places to be.”

  “A new soup kitchen opened up?” I was being mean on purpose. I knew he didn’t like it when I pointed out that he was homeless.

  Bob actually looked offended. “With all the processed foods they serve? Never that. I only eat organic.”

  I chuckled at the idea of a homeless guy that only ate organic, but in Bob’s case, I could almost believe it. He had a way of surprising you. “You don’t know what you’re missing. All those chemicals are what makes the food taste so good, man.”

  Bob turned over an empty bucket onto one of the tarps I was using to keep the paint off of the hardwood floors. “So are you calling 3A Mike your boyfriend yet?”

  I paused to turn and scowl at him. “You too? Why is everyone so concerned with this?”

  “Why aren’t you concerned?” he returned.

  “Because I’m happy the way things are. I like to keep my shit casual.”

  “You don’t sound happy.” Bob shook his head. “And not everybody is so casual about their feelings, though.”

  I don’t know if I was pissed off that a homeless guy was lecturing me about my love life or if I was pissed off that he was probably right. “Big talk coming from you of all people! You’re always talking about how you resist labels and being tied down. But when I say that, I’m an asshole.”

  “Am I interrupting?” Mike appeared in the doorway. He looked tired. He was wearing a suit and overcoat, probably just coming from work. It had only been two nights but it felt like I hadn’t seen him in a month.

  “Nope.” Bob stood up. “Well I gotta go see a man about a horse. Later.” He scooted past Mike, off to wherever he always went when he disappeared.

  I continued to paint as Mike took Bob’s place on the impromptu bucket chair. He didn’t say anything at first and neither did I. I just painted and he just watched me. When he finally spoke, I could feel the heat of his anger underneath his words. “Excuse me for overhearing your very loud conversation with the homeless man about our relationship. It just seems like I keep walking up on you talking about me to other people but you’re not talking to me abou
t any of it.”

  “You’re the one that kicked me out of your apartment.”

  “I didn’t kick you out. I ended our night because I didn’t want to fight.”

  “Oh so you coming here means you’re ready to fight? Over what? Our relationship status?”

  “Have I asked for a label? I’m not asking for name tags or anything, Audrey. I do need you to treat me with respect. I need you not to introduce me to people as your ‘neighbor,’” he said with the accompanying air quotes.

  “We hadn’t covered what I should call you.”

  “Especially to the other guy you’re dating.”

  I almost laughed. “Nothing’s going on with that guy. He’s just someone I’m helping.” I just realized that Mike had a really inflated view of me if he thought I might be anywhere near the type of girl that could get Nathaniel. That gave my ego a couple of boosts but it also exasperated me. He really was missing the whole point. “You’re the only one I’m dating. The only reason I don’t want to call you my boyfriend is that I don’t want the pressure that goes with that.”

  Mike sidestepped the Nathaniel topic so I couldn’t quite tell if he believed me or not. “I don’t care if you never call me your boyfriend. I’m fine with what we’re doing as long as you get a lot more truthful me. I want you to do what you say you’ll do. Is that too much?”

  “No.” My voice was very quiet. I wasn’t even sure he heard me. He may have been asking for the one thing I couldn’t give him.

  Mike stood up. “You keep acting like I’m asking for more than you want. But the thing is, I don’t think you even know what you want. That’s what I can’t work with.” Mike stood up. “I’m going to give you some time to think. When you figure out what you want, come find me and we’ll decide where to go from there.” And then he was gone.

  I kept painting through all of it. The only difference was that now I was painting and crying.

  Chapter 17