by David Bruno
Victor had been gone for a couple months now, but the pain of his murder didn’t dissipate in Max’s mind. He kept the true nature of Victor’s passing a secret from Vanessa. An open casket was not possible due to the nature of his injuries. The family couldn’t even see him one last time to say good-bye. There was no closure. His priority was now to protect his daughter. Options were limited. Dr. Doe had made it very clear that she was the property of the Agency. It was only a matter of time before he came for her.
*****
With the loss of Victor, Vanessa retreated into herself. She did what she needed to do in school to maintain her grades and take care of her dad as he relearned how to walk. She had no time or inclination for happiness. The only thing that brought her any satisfaction was to go outdoors and practice her slingshot in solitude—only the slingshot, not her powers. Her marksmanship became as good as it gets. World-class, in fact. She often went to the meadow for hours at a time. It was a place where she and her brother had spent much of their time together. Being there brought back fond memories—the only thing that could bring her some comfort.
Today was the same as most days. She set up cans and bottles to further hone her skills in the solitude of the meadow. As usual, she remembered the day that Victor got his power—the day he died. Her throat tightened and her eyes watered. Focusing on her target was not easy through the tears. Her hands shook slightly as she pulled the bands. Rather than wait until she regained her composure and focus, she released the shot. Uncharacteristically, it missed her target altogether. Instead, it flew into the woods and struck a tree. A loud knock reverberated. Through the haze of her tears, Vanessa caught a glimpse of the shot coming directly back at her. Her eyes widened and her arms moved to protect her face. At the speed of a synapse, her shield manifested in front of her and deflected the steel ball; she was protected. It was instinctive, without thought or planning.
She fell to her knees and wept, having hoped her powers had gone away. She hadn’t cast a shield since that fateful day. It was not meant to be. If her powers didn’t kill her—like Victor’s had done to him—she knew they gave her a responsibility she was not yet ready or mature enough to handle.
*****
Max had an idea. He had recently helped a young man with powers escape unpleasant legal problems as a result of his newfound ability. It was, after all, his job to surveil the people of JBMelting to look for people who developed powers naturally as children. Dr. Doe’s hope was they would be more stable in their use of powers than those rushed into servitude as adults and could be used to train and lead the army that would usher in his fascistic vision of the future. At the moment, Vanessa was to be that leader. That was unacceptable. He needed another option—another candidate.
He’d found one—a good one. Benny seemed like a good kid. However, he might be the key to saving Vanessa from the Agency. Benny had been gifted, quite accidentally, with powers to defend himself as well as to lay down massive offensive assaults. In this way, he had double the powers of Vanessa. Surely, Benny would be a more valuable prize for Doe than Vanessa. He had once vowed to protect Benny. But circumstances had changed after the murder of his son. The old playbook had been rewritten. He would still do what he could to protect Benny. But Vanessa’s welfare now trumped all. He had to try.
Max picked up the phone to call Dr. Doe. “Jeff, it’s Max.”
“Max. Hello. How’s the knee?”
Ass. “Getting better. Thanks for your concern,” he replied with quiet rage. “I have an idea.”
“Oh? What might that be?”
“You need a naturally enhanced person born with superpowers to lead your army?”
“Yes, that’s our plan. You know that.”
“I have a proposition for you, Jeff. What if this kid Benny that I’ve been tracking proves to be superior to Vanessa? Could we make an exchange? Him for Vanessa. This way, I can keep my daughter—what’s left of my family—and you get what we and the Agency need. It’s a win-win. Besides, Vanessa hasn’t been the same since Victor. The spark is gone. Psychologically, she’s a mess and I don’t see her getting better anytime soon. She is not leadership material.”
There was a moment of silence on the phone. “So, by saying ‘we’ I assume you’ve seen reason and are still true to our agenda. If this kid is as good as you told me he was, we might have a deal. What you’ve said about Vanessa since the Victor incident makes me wonder if she has what it takes anyway… unless you’re protecting her for your own benefit.” Dr. Doe paused, thinking. “Okay, Max. You have a deal. Keep an eye on the boy. He isn’t old enough yet, but bring him in when he’s ready.”
“Will do. Thanks. I appreciate it. It means a lot to me.” He hung up the phone, content for the moment. He knew that trusting Dr. Doe for anything was foolish. But the deal bought some time.
Max was also keenly aware that any salvation for Vanessa would necessarily cost Benny his freedom and perhaps his life.
Vanessa arrived home from the meadow. She was tired and pensive, not saying a word.
“Vanessa, can you get the keys? We need to go to the doctor. Cast comes off today.”
Vanessa was fifteen and had recently received her learner’s permit. She was now able to help her dad get from place to place. On the drive to the doctor, Max glanced at his daughter behind the wheel as she blared classic Van Halen tunes on the radio. He loved her, apart from her taste in music, and would do anything to protect his angel—even if it meant running with the devil.
CH 10
WHAT AM I?
SPRING 2012: SOUTH CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA
Benny pored over his history homework. The topic of the week was the U. S. Constitution. His father was a second-generation American and proud of the choice his grandfather had made to come to America from England. Benny had learned to appreciate American exceptionalism—not that the people themselves were superior to others, but that the American system allowed them to be free individuals with self-determination. Americans were not subjects of royalty or repressed by totalitarian authorities. Therefore, Americans had opportunities few others could imagine.
JB had been forced to homeschool Benny since the incident with Jimmy Schultz. No other schools permitted him to attend. He owned the foundry, so moving to another town or state where Benny was unknown and could attend school was impractical. He made the most of the situation with the aid of his father and his late wife’s parents, Dave and Kim. The incident from eighth grade had turned Benny into a pariah, as his middle-school principal had said it would. It was as if he had a scarlet letter permanently tattooed on his forehead.
Once his father had figured out the logistics of educating his son using the Internet community as a resource, lesson plans became easier. He found that he had greater opportunities to make lesson plans that reinforced his values. This was a freeing experience, which he saw as the silver lining to the situation. Still, Benny was isolated from kids his own age—with the exception of his longtime friend, Joe, who often joined and participated in Benny’s lessons. More and more, it was like Joe went to school twice.
As Benny sat at the dinner table working on his studies, his mother’s engagement ring was permanently enshrined under glass as a centerpiece on the table. It was a reminder to his father and to him of the hole in their lives that was left after Jenn’s passing. Having the ring in a prominent area of the home, where they would sit every day, made sure that she would never be forgotten.
“Channel 59 News. Tonight at six—masked men robbing a bank are apprehended by other masked men. These ones with superpowers… ”
“Dad, I was thinking.”
His father dried the dinner dishes as Benny sat at the table doing his homework. Joe, having mooched a dinner with his buddy, studied in the other room. “About what?”
“It’s been over a year and I haven’t had an incident like when I put Jimmy in the hospital. Do you think maybe I don’t have powers after all?”
“I never thought you
had any kind of powers. Turn that TV off. It’s filling your head with nonsense. You just had an adrenaline rush and stopped a bully. Nothing more.” JB wasn’t as certain as he made it sound. But each day that passed without powers meant that he and Benny didn’t have to deal with it.
His father’s words weren’t convincing. Inside, Benny knew something was different.
“Well, Joe and I were thinking that maybe I should get involved in some extracurricular activities. You know, be around people my own age.”
His father smiled at him, pleased with the maturity of the request. “That sounds like a great idea. What did you have in mind? Baseball, football, guitar lessons?”
“We were thinking more along the lines of self-defense. Maybe boxing, karate, or something like that.”
“Hmm.” JB placed the towel on the countertop and studied his son. “It wouldn’t be that you want to try to find some kind of hidden powers, would it?” He was aware of his son’s hidden agenda. Having powers would make him special, like the superheroes who were increasingly on the news saving people and wrecking things. He wasn’t completely opposed: the idea of being special might help Benny wrap his arms around his situation and the loneliness it had created. At the very least, it would do Benny good to be around people and learn some discipline. He had certainly been less antagonistic since the incident. Perhaps he was bottling it up out of fear. It couldn’t hurt to have an outlet for pent-up energy and aggression.
“Of course not,” Benny said with a smile. He knew what he was asking and he knew that his father knew.
“Alright. I thought I told you to turn off that TV! Do your homework and we’ll look into it together when you’re done. Don’t forget, this weekend all three of your grandparents are coming over. We’re going on a field trip to Philadelphia to see Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, and stuff like that. Maybe we can get a cheesesteak too. ‘Whiz wit,’ just how you like it,” JB said with a grin. He knew Benny couldn’t resist a real Philly cheesesteak.
More importantly, JB knew that spending time together with the family was important. Benny’s paternal grandmother, Sarah, had passed away several years ago. Family wouldn’t be around forever.
*****
Joe successfully convinced his parents that he needed to take boxing lessons with Benny. They found a local gym and martial-arts studio offering various lessons ranging from boxing to Brazilian jiu-jitsu. They read on the website that they were to bring their own boxing shoes, hand wraps, gloves, and other athletic wear. After the previous day’s trip to the athletic store, they arrived at the studio with their new equipment in a duffle bag. The pair were well equipped, exhilarated, and ready to go. The teenagers felt exceptionally masculine as they approached their training.
“I’d like to sign up these boys for youth boxing class. This is their first boxing lesson. What can we expect?” JB asked the man sitting on a stool behind the counter.
The man smiled at Benny and Joe, giving an approving nod. He was a tall, muscular man in a muscle shirt with perfectly slicked hair. One look and it was obvious that he had broken his nose more than once. But he seemed pleasant. “Welcome! My name is Mr. Jamison. Good to meet you and glad to see you taking the next step to becoming men.”
JB smiled at the comment. Maybe this was just what Benny needed. This class could teach him not just skills, but also allow him to get some discipline.
Mr. Jamison continued. “You guys are in luck. We have a newbie class starting in thirty minutes. The first class was Tuesday, but I think we can get you up to speed quickly. Why don’t you go to the lockers to get dressed? I’ll talk to your dad here and get you registered.”
The boys took their things and went to the locker room to change.
JB took the opportunity to speak to the instructor in private. “Benny is my son and Joe is his best friend. They need a little discipline. Benny has had a tough time. He has limited access to kids his own age, apart from Joe. I figured it would be good to get him involved in physical activity.”
“We get that a lot here. Often single parents, usually the mom. They need to do something with their sons. Don’t worry, this is the basic class. Here is a list of the things we teach.”
The man handed JB a paper with the syllabus. It read:
Youth (up to 16 yrs) – 26-week program – Tues & Thurs:
Our objective is to teach life skills, fitness, discipline, and self-confidence. Most importantly, we help turn boys into men.
To reach these objectives, our program includes:
Calisthenics, cardio and strength training, shadow boxing, bag work, partner work, etc.
We learn how to:
Guard, stance, jab, cross, hook, etc.
“Perfect,” JB said. “Let’s sign these boys up.”
*****
“Okay, men,” the instructor barked as he walked into the room. It was a different man than the one who’d signed them up. Along with Benny and Joe, there were six other students.
“My name is Mr. Stevens. You may call me Coach or Coach Stevens. I am a retired professional boxer and have a red-and-black coral belt in Brazilian jiu-jitsu.”
Coach Stevens was a monster of a man. He towered at 6′6″ and easily weighed 260 pounds, mostly muscle. He was formidable and commanded attention and respect from his students—and a little fear.
JB sat on a bench to observe the students. He was a little concerned that the class might be too much for Benny, who was just a skinny kid. Hopefully, it would bolster his confidence and not destroy it.
“First thing is we need to warm up. We’re going to do some push-ups, sit-ups, and other exercises before we start punching. We want to learn here, not get hurt.”
The boys grumbled in unison. They were all anxious to hit something. These calisthenics weren’t much different than they would have done in physical education at school. But they did as the instructor demanded. Coach Stevens was too scary to disobey.
After their warm-up, Coach Stevens instructed the students to take out their gloves. “I know you’re all interested in punching something. We’re going to start with a little sparring just to release some energy and let me assess what I have to work with in each of you. We’ll take it gently and not punch hard. Understood?”
The boys mumbled a response that seemingly indicated they may have understood their instructor.
Coach Stevens’s demeanor changed. He shouted, “Do you understand!” The veins in his neck popped out and his face turned red.
“Yes, sir!” the wide-eyed boys shouted back at him in near unison, straightening to attention.
“That’s better. Pair up.”
With that, the boys paired up into four groups.
Coach Stevens pointed to Benny and Joe. “Okay, new guys first. Put on the headgear and gloves and get on the mat.”
Benny and Joe went onto the mat and awaited further instructions. The instructor showed them a proper boxing stance and how to hold their arms. They mimicked jabs and hooks. Before long, they were instructed to gently spar with each other.
“This is it, guys. Show me some natural skills.”
Benny and Joe tapped their gloves and backed apart as they assumed their newly learned stances. They began moving in circles, each afraid to strike the other. They were best friends and it didn’t seem right to hit each other, especially for no reason.
JB laughed to himself at the awkward display of lanky kids dancing in circles in front of him. Their pale skinny arms looked like lollipops with large red boxing gloves over their hands.
“Okay, girls, are you going to hit each other or prance around like fairies? Let’s go!” commanded their coach.
Joe threw the first jab. It missed entirely. Benny responded with a left jab that barely touched Joe’s shoulder. They continued to move in circles.
“I mean it, guys. If you don’t hit each other, you’re going to spar with me.”
“Joe, let’s do it!” Benny mumbled. “This guy is terrifying.”
&nb
sp; “Agreed.”
Then Joe threw the first real punch. It was a mean right hook that landed solidly on Benny’s head. It rung his bell. Joe backed off, knowing that Benny was dazed.
“I’m okay. Let’s go,” said Benny. He threw a few more punches, barely able to make contact with Joe. Joe was simply too fast for Benny.
Then Joe unleashed two left jabs followed by another right hook. All three connected. Benny stepped back. Dazed, he began to sweat and his vision got blurry. His skin turned a strange shade of pink. Benny then resumed his posture and moved toward Joe. When he was within reach, Joe tried to punch. But Benny was too fast this time and gave a couple decoy left jabs followed by a solid right hook to Joe’s head. Joe fell to the floor.
“Ahhhh! Aww, man. You didn’t have to hit me that hard!” Joe complained as he removed his headgear. His head was foggy and he felt a dull aching pain from deep within.
Benny saw his buddy Joe on the ground and looked at his hands. “I don’t know what happened.” He looked around in disbelief. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
Coach Stevens frowned and turned to JB. “Mr. Brown.” He gestured to Joe and Benny. “You three come with me.”
*****
Coach Stevens asked the three to sit on a bench in the locker room. He paced back and forth a couple times before speaking. “I don’t know how to ask this, so I’m just going to come out and say it. Are you guys freaks?”
“What?” snapped JB as he jumped to his feet. “Freaks? How dare you!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” said the coach as he closed his eyes and held up his hand. “What I mean is, do you guys have powers?”
The three looked at each other, not knowing how to respond.
