Cosmic Girl Rising Up

by R S J Gregory

  “Is he okay?” I ask.

  “He’ll live.” Mr Meyer’s shrugs nonchalantly. “But his father is another problem. He wants me to expel you.”

  I gasp and hold my hand up to my mouth. “No!”

  “Yes. But I don’t think we need to be that severe.” He says and looks at the window again.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask.

  “Nothing.” He replies happily.

  “Really?” I ask.

  “I have let Mr Sanders decide your punishment.”

  “Oh.” I say and my heart sinks.

  “He’s going to think about it, and get back to me.” Mr Meyer’s says and smiles at me.

  “Oh, great.” I mutter.

  “Yes. You have my sympathies.” Mr Meyer says, and then chuckles as he stands up.

  “No more heroics, okay?” He says as he walks to the door.

  I nod, and then gather myself, and stand up slowly.

  He holds the door open for me.

  “I’ll let you know your fate, as soon as I’ve been informed.” He says and smiles down at me as I walk past.

  “Try and behave in the meantime. Goodbye.” Then the door closes quietly behind me, and I stand still, waiting for the news to sink in.

  I walk through the glass double-doors, and head towards the exit. Mitchell is leaning against the wall near the doors when I emerge. He comes over immediately.

  “What happened?” He asks quickly.

  “The moron’s father is going to decide my punishment.” I say heatedly, and storm off towards the street.

  “Yikes. That doesn’t sound good.” He says as he walks in step with me.

  “I just hope he’s not very imaginative.” I grumble as I turn right and head home.

  “He’s a lawyer. How imaginative can lawyers be?” He jokes.

  I sigh in frustration and look up at the dark clouds above us.

  The rain has lessened, but is still persistent in trying to ruin my day further. I let the raindrops hit my face, and then look back to street level and kick myself internally.

  Why did I have to be so stupid? Dad’s gonna kill me.

  As we get closer to my house, I begin to slow down. I keep looking up at the clouds. They look so inviting.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Mitchell says, and I feel his arm around my waist.

  “Just a few minutes.” I plead.

  “Better get it over with.”

  “Think of me.” I say, and walk towards my doom.

  He stops near my house, and I head on up the steps.

  “Good luck.” He says, and then the door is yanked open before me.

  “We need to talk.” Dad says firmly, and holds the door open.

  I walk in, and he closes the door behind me. I grit my teeth, and wait in the hall to see where he leads me. He storms past me, and heads to the kitchen. Oh no. The kitchen? This is bad. Much worse than I first thought. I walk slowly to the kitchen as my heart hammers in my throat.

  Boy, was I ever grounded!

  I’ve never heard my dad that upset before. He was very disappointed with me. I feel really bad. Not about hurting the other kid, hell, he deserved what he got. No, I felt bad that I had let my dad down.

  He said that my behavior reflects badly on him, as a parent. That somehow, this is his fault. It’s ridiculous of course. But I couldn’t really say that at the time. I just had to shut up and listen. Now that the worst is over, I now have time to reflect on what Mr Sanders might do. How long would he take to decide my punishment?

  Not long, as it turns out.

  The next day, after school, I’m summoned to the Principal’s office. I knock gently on the door, and wait.

  “Come in.” Mr Meyer’s happy, mild voice calls out.

  I enter, and Mr Meyer smiles and gestures to the chair opposite his desk. I close the door and sit down.

  “Well, this is rather nice, isn’t it?” Mr Meyer says, and picks up a letter from his desk and smiles.

  I smile, but can’t help thinking that this surely can’t be very nice for me.

  “I have Mr Sanders decision, here.” Mr Meyer says and shakes the letter.

  “And?” I ask.

  “Community service.” Mr Meyer says, as he reads a portion of the letter.

  Uh oh.

  “At a soup kitchen.” Mr Meyer adds as he regards me carefully.

  Oh, that’s not so bad.

  Mr Meyer smiles when he sees my reaction.

  “In the lower south-side.” He finishes slowly, pronouncing every word carefully.

  Ah. So Mr Sanders was hoping that I might get hurt, or worse? Well, he was gonna be disappointed.

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea.” I say and grin. “Please pass on my thanks to Mr Sanders.” I say, and chuckle at Mr Meyer’s reaction.

  “You’re okay with this? It can get very dangerous in that part of town, you know.”

  “I know. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” I say and get up. “Is that all, sir?”

  “Yes. That’s all.” He says, bemused and looking worried.

  “Who do I contact to arrange this?” I ask, as I stand and smile at him.

  “Here.” He says, and hands me a small slip of paper with a name and telephone number written on it.

  “Thanks. Well, goodbye, sir.” I say and head for the door.

  He looks bewildered as I exit his office. I’m almost skipping with joy when I leave the school, and head towards the sidewalk.

  “You look happy.” Mitchell says as he joins me.

  “Yep.” I say cheerily.

  “Come on. What happened? What’s he got you doing? Cleaning toilets? Picking up trash?” Mitchell asks as we walk home.

  “Soup kitchen.” I say and smile.

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.” Mitchell agrees, and chuckles next to me.

  “I know.” I look down at the slip of paper, and groan. “I’ve got to report at 7pm on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.”

  “Aww, man.” Mitchell groans. “I’m not going to see much of you, am I?”

  I shrug. “It won’t be for long.”

  “Try not to look too happy, when you tell your dad.” Mitchell says and grins.

  “Yeah. I need to put on my game face.” I say and try to look sad.

  We arrive at my house, and he leaves me at the gate after a quick kiss, then turns and heads home. I sigh and head up the steps. Dad’s already home, and is waiting for me when I get in. I hand him the slip of paper and explain what my punishment is.

  He likes the idea, until I tell him where it is.

  “What?” He blurts out. “Is he crazy? You could get killed in that part of town.” Dad says angrily as he storms around the living room.

  “I’ll be fine. Cosmic Girl will protect me.” I say without thinking, trying to diffuse the tension.

  “Who?” He stops and asks.

  “You know, the flying girl.” I say, and do the finger quotes thing on the word, flying.

  “She still around?” He asks and frowns. “She didn’t save that boy the other day. What makes you think she’ll save you?” The words cut me like a knife, and I stagger backwards and grab a chair to steady myself. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves.

  “That wasn’t her fault.” I say half-heartedly, not really believing my own words.

  “You still have the pepper spray that Jessica gave you?” He asks.

  “You know about that, huh?” I ask, as my breathing starts to quicken.

  “I don’t miss anything in my house.” He replies proudly.

  Hmm, that’s what you think, Dad.

  “Don’t worry about me.” I say.

  “Of course I worry about you. You’re my daughter.” He says heatedly.

  The television is on. For crying out loud, is CNN the only channel we have?

  They’re talking to a woman. I recognize her voice. I close my eyes, and my breathing quickens more.

  “…then he was gone. Cosmic Girl and that Cra
sh caught the killers, but they were too late.” The woman says, her voice is breaking, and I can hear she’s crying.

  “What would you like to say to these, so-called heroes?” The male reporter asks.

  “Where were you?” The woman says to the camera, as I open my eyes and look at the boy’s mother.

  I’m so sorry!

  “So can we really call them heroes? That’s the question on everyone’s lips today, as a mother grieves for her son, in another tragic shooting. The fifth one this year in Chicago alone…”

  “Dad, switch it off. Please?” I beg.

  “Sure, Pumpkin.” He says and switches the television off.

  “I’ll be in my room.” I grumble, and leave the living room as I gasp for breath.

  By the time I get to my room, I’m hyperventilating. The tears streak down my cheeks as I lean against my bedroom door and close my eyes. Where were you? The question burns me like a hot iron, scorching my heart, searing me. Where was I? I was right there. But, yes, I had been too late. Now he’s dead.

  I can’t breathe, I have to get out of here. The air in here is suffocating me.

  I lock my door, and get changed into my costume. I remove my brown contacts, and put them in their plastic container. I slip on my pink glittery mask, put my normal clothes in my backpack, and slip it over my leather-clad shoulders. I stand in front of the window, and take a deep breath. There’s a knock at my door.

  “Hello?” I say wearily.

  “It’s me, Brit.” Jessica’s voice calls from the hall.

  “Not now, Jess. Cover for me, please?”

  “Where’re you going? You know you’re grounded, right?”

  “Jess, please?” I beg as I slide my window up.

  “I’ll do what I can. But you owe me big time.” She replies testily, and then heads back to her room.

  I climb out of my window and shot up into the darkening sky. I pass through the clouds in a few seconds, and then stop and hover. I take in a deep breath, and close my eyes. I love the air up here. It’s so clean, so pure. I love the quietness, the peace. There’s just the sound of the wind whistling past my ears. I open my eyes and look up. I wonder how high I can go?

  I shrug and begin to climb higher. I accelerate, and soon hear the sonic boom far behind me as I rocket upwards towards the stars.

  The sky begins to darken as I climb higher, and the stars begin to get brighter. I get buffeted by a strong wind that slams into me, and catches me by surprise. It slows me down, as I try to climb higher fighting against the wind. It’s like I’m flying through a fast flowing river. Then I’m through, and the going gets easier again. The air above me is so dark now, so I stop and look down.

  Wow. I’ve never seen so many clouds before. A vast ocean of white billowing clouds glide by beneath me. I can’t see any terrain, just white clouds. I lift my eyes to the horizon, and see the curve of the Earth, surrounded by a pale blue line, which must be the atmosphere. It’s the most beautiful shade of blue I’ve ever seen. And above me, the blackest night. The stars look so much brighter, as does the sun, though I know better than to look directly at it. I see it out of the corner of my eye, shining brilliantly, like a naked bulb in the inky darkness. The stars look so close, I feel like I can almost touch them. I reach up playfully, and notice a layer of ice on my hand and arm. I exhale and see my breath float away like a tiny cloud. I try to take a breath. But something’s wrong. My vision is beginning to blur, and small red motes dance in front of me. My head is pounding, and I gasp for breath, and find none. I’m too high up. I need to get lower, quick. I drop like a rock. I wait until the sky gets brighter, and then stop and take a deep breath again. This time my lungs respond, and I gulp in air gratefully.

  Well, it’s nice to know I have limits.

  My head clears, and my vision returns to normal after a few minutes. I breathe a sigh of relief, and then pitch forward and fly down towards the clouds.

  I encounter the powerful wind again, and accelerate through. I feel my costume and hair getting wet, as the ice covering my body begins to melt. I shake the wetness from me as I punch through the wind, and after a few seconds, I pass through a thin layer of wispy clouds. I accelerate faster and reach the next layer of clouds, and pass through. The city stretches out beneath me in all directions.

  Lake Michigan to my right, which looks more like an ocean from up here. I can’t see either end, just the beach and the footpath that runs along Lakeshore Drive. I focus on the river to get my bearings, then I bank to my left and head south. I’m still a few thousand feet up when I cross the river and fly over the L train loop. As the shadows deepen below, the streets darken, and the canyons of stone and steel begin to glitter with lights, as people switch on their headlights. I notice a blue and red light making tracks south, it was travelling faster than the other cars. A police car, maybe? I descend lower, and follow the lone car as it heads south. As I get lower, I can hear the siren, and the red and blue lights are rotating and flashing in that unmistakable fashion. Something is up.

  Hmm, this could be interesting.

  I lose sight of the cop car momentarily, as it drives under the elevated train tracks. Then I spot it again as it turns left on to Congress Parkway. It then runs through a red light, and turns right and heads south again.

  It’s heading down Wabash Avenue, and accelerating. I look ahead and see another police car join from another road, much further ahead. It skids around a corner near a Carabou Coffee shop, and charges south with its siren wailing. I accelerate and catch up with the second police car.

  I look around to see where they’re heading. Then I hear the alarm, faint, still far away. It’s coming from somewhere south of my current position. I accelerate and fly above the street, and listen as the alarm begins to get steadily louder.

  I look ahead, and see another police car screech to a stop near an intersection. Two officers climb out, and one of the officers signals traffic to stop, while his partner goes around to the trunk and opens it. He begins setting up a foldout barrier, while the traffic stops behind them. I carry on and see the same thing happening on the side streets. The alarm is getting louder now, and I swoop down towards a police car that’s stopped on the corner, near a parking lot. The alarm is coming from one of the stores that run along a strip next to the parking lot. I land near the police car, and clear my throat.

  The police officer looks over his shoulder, and almost jumps, but then composes himself, and looks at me warily.

  “Who the hell are you?” The officer asks, as he tries to keep his eyes on the parking lot.

  “I’m just here to help. What’s up?” I reply coolly.

  “Gun store robbery. They’re still inside.” He replies worriedly, and looks at me again.

  “Miss, please take cover.” He adds urgently. “Please, crouch down here.” He says and points to a spot near the rear wheel. “Just don’t touch anything.” He says, and then turns back to the parking lot.

  “Gun store, huh?” I ask and walk around the cop and head over to the sidewalk.

  “What are you doing?” The police officer calls after me in alarm.

  “Like I said. I’m here to help.” I reply over my shoulder, and carry on towards the parking lot.

  The alarm is deafening, I wish someone would shut it up. I walk slowly across the parking lot and check the store signs. I notice the gun store. The window is dark glass, and the door stands open. I walk slowly towards the entrance.

  “Stop right there. I’ll kill ‘em, I swear to god!” A man’s voice shouts from inside.

  “Sorry. Can’t hear you.” I shout back.

  “I said stop right where you are!” The man shouts back.,

  “Sorry. What was that?” I shout back.

  “I said…damn it. Shut that thing off.” The man shouts angrily at someone inside.

  While he does that, I take a few steps forward and try to see inside.

  I’m a few feet away from the entrance, when the alarm goes dead.
>
  “Stop. I’ll kill ‘em. I swear I will. Don’t push it.”

  “That’s better. I can hear you now.” I say and step into the doorway. “I’m unarmed.” I announce, and raise my hands and step inside.

  It’s darker inside, and it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. I see rows of jackets, boots, rifles, shotguns, crossbows, and a rack of gun and hunting related magazines.

  “Who the hell are you? You’re no cop.” A younger man’s voice calls out from across the gun store.

  “You’re sharp.” I reply, and stoop down and pick up a hunting magazine. “You picked a lousy place to go hunting.” I say, and flick through the pages.

  I open the magazine to show a two-page spread of a high-powered hunting rifle. “Is this what turns you boys on?” I ask and show them the images.

  The two men stare at me, dumbstruck. One of the men, the older one, is pointing a shotgun to a man’s head, while the younger man looks up over the counter at me, puzzled.

  “To each their own.” I smirk.

  I walk slowly forward while reading aloud from the magazine. “The H.E.T. model is equipped with a Bell & Carlson tactical Kevlar reinforced stock, with a full length…Ooh….” I smirk. “aluminum bedding block, a 28 inch barrel, and a SureFire muzzle break.” I’m still walking towards them as I read. “An oversized bolt handle…oversized? Adds to the perfect ergonomics of the H.E.T. model.” I show them the double page spread of the gun again as I get closer. “Ooh, look. It comes in different colors too.” I gush enthusiastically.