Better to Die a Hero (15 page)

Bryan nodded. “That’s exactly right. You two have got to start taking this seriously. If we get caught, someone will take the powder away. That cannot happen. I can’t let that happen. Why don’t you two stay here and make out for a while. I’ll draw this guy away.” Bryan didn’t wait for comments. He bounded off in superhuman fashion in the smoking man’s direction.

You two stay here and make out, Steve thought, that wasn’t the signal.

“What did he say?” Nora asked.

“Like I said he’s taking this stuff way too seriously.” Steve took off his masks. “Sorry about that make out thing, Bryan can be really obnoxious when he wants.”

“That’s Okay,” Nora said, leaning against the ledge they were hiding behind. She patted the grainy surface beside her. “Scoot over and talk to me.”

Steve moved closer and Nora hooked her hand around his bicep and leaned her head on his shoulder. She knew just how to put him at ease. Did she sense his nervousness at making a first move and intentionally get it out of the way or was she acting on impulse, unaware of how perfect she acted. He appreciated this very much; it was exactly what he needed from a woman. He was smart enough to know that he didn’t have the savvy or experience to maneuver through the relationship minefield like the teenagers in the nighttime soap operas. Of course, he had an inclination that these teen shows didn’t reflect reality, but they were all he had to go by. He’d spent too much time engaged in fantasy role-playing and Sci-Fi endeavors to notice the world around him. He remembered once seeing a role-playing game on dating and romance. He chuckled at the idea of setting that up on Saturday night. His friends would have de-pants him.

“What are you laughing about?” Nora asked, raising her head.

“Just about how totally dumb I am about girls,” he answered. “To be honest with you, I really don’t have a clue.”

“You’re doing fine,” she assured, then rested her head back on his shoulder. “You know I’m going to school this fall, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What are you going to do after graduation?”

“I’m going to take computer science classes at Queens College, that way I can live at home and save money.”

“Your education will end up costing a lot less than mine and you could end up making just as much money. My father knows a man who doesn’t even have a degree and makes eighty-thousand dollars a year installing computer networks.” The reassuring Pat she gave his arm turned into an exploration of his developing muscularity. “Wow, you are turning into a hard body.” She ran her fingers through his hair. His double chin was shrinking, exposing a sharp jaw line. The roundness in his cheeks almost gone, his shapely lips were now more fully emphasized and quite striking. “And you’ve lost a lot of weight Steve, oops, I mean Mon-duck.”

Steve laughed. “That’s Mongoose.”

“Can I call you Goose for short?” she teased, squeezing his arm just right.

Her charm gave him the courage he needed to make a move. “You can call me anything you want to.” He placed one hand on her shoulder and the other around her middle. He gently pivoted her and directed her back into his lap. She moved willingly into position and looked up at his handsome face.

He lowered to meet her lips.

“Hey, hey what are you doing?” Her eyes widened with surprise.

“I…I…,” Steve stammered, and began to pull away.

“Just kidding.” She smiled most beautifully, placed her hand gracefully behind his head, and drew his lips to hers.

*          *          *

An hour passed before Bryan made his way back to the rooftop where he had left his friends. He made his arrival purposefully noisy to give the two lovebirds notice.

“Hey guys,” Bryan said, waving, “not much happening out there in the way of crimes.” He sat down cross-legged near the others. “Every third building has some goof looking out their windows with cameras and binoculars and there are people camped out on a couple buildings. Did anyone bother you guys?”

“No, we didn’t notice anyone,” Nora answered and winked at Steve.

“I think we should call it a night,” Bryan said, “There’s nothing happening out there.”

“Now that’s unusual,” Steve said, “I thought for sure you were going to try to keep us out all night.”

Bryan rubbed his stomach and cleared his throat. “Actually, remember how I was supposed to start eating better. Well I am going to start soon, but in the mean time I might have something brewing.”

“I see,” Steve said, looking for Nora’s take on the situation.

“Okay with me,” she said, standing up and wiping off the seat of her pants. “It would make my mom and dad happy if I got home at a decent time for once. I do have one favor to ask.”

The boys agreed even before she asked.

“This is the only time I really get to bust lose and it’s like I almost have to or I’ll have too much energy stored up. Can we run just ten or so rooftops? That should get it out of my system.”

“Can you wait that long Bryan?” Steve asked.

“No problem. But I think I’ll drop to the car and drive the distance. I can pick you guys up at the end.” He studied all directions. “I’m going to go that way,” he pointed, “no use going the way I just came, it was really dead.”

Steve loved running the rooftops with Nora. The acrobatic prowess she displayed maneuvering the course was astonishing. Cartwheels, handsprings and implausibly complex flips littered the route she took. If Steve ever came close to buying into Bryan’s visions of a super team, it was when he watched Nora tumble.

“You’re magnificent!” he hollered.

CHAPTER 11

G
uilt, more out of habit than anything else, plagued Steve as he rinsed the Rocky Road from a bowl that only minutes ago overflowed with the creamy delight. It was early Saturday morning and cooking a proper breakfast was too complicated. The last of the cold cereal was for his uncle, so the frozen fat presented a quick solution to his hunger. The guilt vanished as fast as the ice cream once the ever-more-fit teen contemplated the exercise he planned to get come evening. The calories burnt on patrol would more than make up for this little relapse. In fact, he planned to sweat off so many calories that he added a dozen nutritional bars to the shopping list. The sharp senses and acute awareness that came with taking the powder dulled dramatically at the end of an intense rooftop run.

“The brain wants fuel regardless of how strong the body is,” Steve said.

George looked up from the paper. “What’s that son?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking out loud.”

A frantic doorbell interrupted their comfortable silence. Considering the number of chimes ringing out, Steve didn’t bother picking up a towel but rather dried his hands on his pants while hurrying to the front door.

Nora rushed past. “I have to talk to you.” Close to tears, she raced up the stairs. The billowing cigarette smoke parted violently around her petite body as she cut a path upward. She barged into the bathroom connected to Steve’s room and placed herself in front of the mirror.

Steve stepped in. “What’s wrong?”

“This.” She sniffled, and pointed to her face. A large oval bump an inch long, red and swollen lay just under her cheekbone.

“Ouch.” Steve recognized it as the deep painful acne that tended to leave scars. He had rarely seen one this bad.

“And this.” She flipped up a section of hair from her temple, exposing a bald spot the size of a nickel, and almost as round. She dropped her hair and broke down sobbing into her hands.

“Oh honey.” He put his arm around her and walked her out of the bathroom to the bed where they sat. She cried into his chest. He gently stroked her head. There was something odd about the tears as they rolled down her cheek. He caught one tear on his fingertip, held it up to the light and trembled—it was translucent red.

The reality of their stupidity hit hard. “How could we have been so dumb,” he said, rocking ever so slightly. He had not prayed in years, but now he prayed intensely for Nora’s well being and holding her snug, his nose an inch above her scalp, there was a sour odor. Although far less potent, it was the same odor Bryan reeked of the other morning. Steve shook his head in disbelief at his own foolishness, for it was now obvious that both Nora and Bryan were exhibiting side effects of the powder. He swore to himself, as they gently rocked, that they’d not take another grain of powder. He shut his eyes and prayed for her symptoms to go away and that she’d suffer no lasting ill effects.

Please God let her be okay, repeated in his mind over and over.

Nora was cried out and Steve sat beside her, his soaked shirt too dark to reveal the nature of her tears. “I think we should get you to a doctor, maybe we can go see Bryan’s dad.”

“Do you think it’s the powder that’s causing this?” she asked.

“Yes I do,” he said softly, “I didn’t realize it before but Bryan is having some of the same symptoms.” He stroked her arm. “We blamed it on his diet. We‘ll stop taking the powder and get you to a doctor.”

“Won’t Bryan get mad?”

“That doesn’t matter. All that matters is your health.”

Nora turned, sat up and with her fingertips explored where the bald spot had developed. “Can you see it?”

“No, your hair is thick enough that it doesn’t show.”
             

Nora straightened and wiped the pinkish streaks from her face. “I want to wait two days with no powder and see if my face starts clearing up. It’s not like I feel sick. I feel fine.”

“I didn’t realize this till now, but I think Bryan’s been peeing blood into the toilet.” Steve was past the point of embarrassment. “Do you have blood in your urine?”

“I don’t know. I don’t look.”

Something else he didn’t know about women. “You’ve got to start looking.” He decided against mentioning the color of her tears or the slight odor she emitted. “If you lose even one more hair we’re going straight to Bryan’s dad.”

“Not that he could do anything. He’d probably be at a loss to explain it. Are you having any of the symptoms?”

He shook his head. “No, not a thing, but I started a week later than you. Maybe I’m a week away from showing symptoms. We’ll go cold turkey together.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll call Bryan and have him come over early. He may not know what’s going on. This is the first time in his life he’s ever worked up a sweat. We thought sweating out all that junk food was causing his acne.” Steve almost mentioned Bryan’s body odor but caught himself in time.

Nora fell asleep and Steve moved to his desk. He attempted to work on a senior history assignment. Barely able to concentrate, he paused every few minutes consumed by worry over the health of his friends. Sometimes he took his nose out of the book just to watch the girl sleep or listen to her petite snores. Other thoughts interrupted the assignment’s progress, like how he would miss the ground rushing toward him after a leap off a building. He would so miss the stomach tickle, the power exploding from his every muscle on landing and mostly the ensuing confidence that accompanied super strength. In retrospect, it would have been much better to win the lottery—at least the checks keep coming in year after year.

Nora woke up a bit past noon. Her serene napping face quickly melded to grave concern and her finger shot up to examine the bald spot. Before she left, the two inspected her scalp and were happy to find no more hair loss. She promised to call that night if there was any change in her condition, good or bad.

The patrols were over. Steve carried the antique bottle into the bathroom intent on flushing its contents, but balked knowing it might mean an end to his long time friendship. Although Bryan’s vision—to create a team of super crime fighters—was dead to Steve, maybe some good could be made of the powder. As far as he knew, there was no other substance like this on earth. To dump it might be a crime against humanity.

A substance this powerful probably had medical uses and his geek friend, as smart as he was, just might uncover them.

Hell, some day Bryan may get a Nobel Prize for unlocking the benefits of the powder.

*          *          *

As always, Bryan arrived earlier than planned. Steve had never placed the call partly because of Bryan’s history of early shows and partly because he was putting off the confrontation. The dilemma on how to approach the subject solved itself the moment Bryan’s face emerged from the shadowy hall into the well-lit bedroom.

“Holy shit!” Steve’s jaw dropped. “Your face is not looking good.”

“My father prescribed an antibiotic for it.”

Steve surveyed the large red masses covering his friend’s face. “Does he know that you’ve been taking the powder?”

“Of course he doesn’t know.”

“Hey!” Steve said, “I’m just saying that a doctor should know what other drugs a person is taking when they prescribe something on top of it. The truth is… we’ve been major-league stupid so far and we need to start acting smarter. Nora was over here earlier today.”