The Last Superhero (19 page)

Stop following her breaths,
it'll drive you insane.

“
Got
him sentenced. He can't do it unless I request it.”

“
Not
being harsh on him, are you?” Labored breath. “Are you
controlling your temper around him?”

My temper is nothing
compared to this woman's wantonness!

“
Yes,
Mom. He told you himself I'm behaving.” As if I required some
third party assessment.

Her hand is suddenly at my
face, manicured nails coming in contact with the underside of my jaw.

“
He's
a good man.” Is it me or are her breaths growing shallower? “No
matter... what you find out.” Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. “No
matter what anyone says. He's a good person.” Pause. “Another
example of... how society turns its back on those... who need help
the most.” Deep intake. “He might be a superhero... but
that doesn't make him less of a person.”

I'm going for the oxygen
mask and putting it over her face.

A movement, a protocol I've
learned so well.

And as she pulls it to her,
I think about how her words are an echo of that conversation I had
with him earlier.

Big breath now.

“
He's
part human, after all,” I say.

Don't pull the mask off!

“
The
only part of him that isn't human is where his power lies.”
Pause. Breathe from the mask. “The rest is exactly like you and
me.” Sharp eyes rest on me. “Whatever you do, Giana,
don't go breaking his heart.”

'Cause I'm the villain in
this story, right?

“
I
don't intend to. Now stop exerting yourself, you've done enough of
that today.”

Clap my hand. “Did he
come with you?”

“
Yes.
You want to see him?”

Side-glance. No malice
through that white smoke emerging from the mask that clouds half her
face.

“
Tomorrow.
You staying with him tonight?”

“
I
thought I might stay here.”

Shakes her head, keeping the
mask in place.

Don't reproach her.

Don't.

Sweep your eyes over her and
see that she's doing this for you.

Wipe nonexistent sweat from
your face.

Now I'm the one taking a
deep breath.

“
Since
when, Mom?”

She lifts four fingers from
her hand.

“
Days?
Months?”

She nods at months.

“
Why
didn't you tell me? Why did you take that trip to Spain if you knew
you were unwell?”

Ask all you want, stupid,
the real question is: Where were you all this time? How did you not
see this coming?

She's about to take off the
mask when I stop her.

“
What
a horrible daughter I've been.”

No wonder it's Simon who she
went to for help.

“
Simon
knew, didn't he?”

She nods.

Fuck me, fuck everything.

“
I've
been a burden to you for so long,” she says through the smoke
and it hurts.

“
You're
my mother and I've neglected you.”

She scoffs and it turns into
a cough, proving my point.

Pull the mask once more.
“You have a life to live, Giana, and god forbid I keep you from
it.”

There's
more coughing and then something starts beeping and the room is
flooded with people and Dad's pulling me out and Simon's trying to
peek in and all I can think of is
this
is too much, too soon, too fast, too crude
.

And Steven's there when the
throng spits me out like some kind of mosh pit going crazy over a
song I can't really hear 'cause I'm still trying to figure out what
the hell's going on.

19

Dad. Simon. Steven. Mari Paz
with her Spanish accent that makes the phrase “she'll be okay”
sound so exotic, so unlike the others.

And Dad sends Steven and
Simon on the impossible mission of prying me from that hallway of
white walls and to my place because I don't want to go and visiting
hours are over and even when Dad's an urologist and that has nothing
to do with airways he's got friends and gets to stay.

I'm angry and I'm sad and
I'm about to explode, but all I do is implode, silent, inwards.

And drive, I've got to drive
Steven home.

And he doesn't want to leave
my side, but I don't want to stumble into one of his nightmares. It
pains him and he says he'll stay up all night, but I just find that
so creepy and say no and push him through his door.

So I make it to my place
alone and sink in my sofa staring blankly at Daphne's manuscript on
the coffee table.

I'm on a deadline for that
one.

When my phone sings.

And it's him.

“
Hello?”

“
Whoa.
It works.”

“
It
does.”

“
Did
you make it home safe?”

“
Yeah.
I'm gonna make some tea, take a shower, and crash.”

“
I
can get there if you change your mind.”

“
That's
nice of you.”

“
Love
you.”

“
Love
you too.”

I hang up for him. The
little wonders of cell phones.

No idea what happened after
that, all I know is there was no sign of having had tea or a shower
as I wake up with horrible neck pain, all twisted still sitting on my
sofa.

“
Fuck.”

Nice word to start the day.
Already gotten used to that one.

Hold my neck with one hand
and make my way to the bathroom, brush my teeth, divest, let the
water cascade down my body, lather, rinse, don't repeat, don't want
to be here all day.

Muster up some courage and
call Dad.

She's better now.
Stabilized. It was, like always, another scare.

Then he throws me an
invitation for breakfast and won't take no for an answer.

“
Have
to open the bookstore.”

“
Already
spoke to Daphne.”

Bite me.

Check my face in the mirror
and smile. Fake it, flaunt it.

Arrive at the place and
there's Dad and Mari Paz and they welcome me with hugs and kisses and
we sit around a table for four that's left one vacant seat.

Spark a conversation with
Mari Paz and she's all 'I've missed yous' and 'you know you can visit
us anytime.'

Gulp some coffee and turn to
Dad and the subject changes to the bookstore.

The vestige. The spoils of a
war I've felt I've been battling alone all this time.

Because even when he doesn't
say it, Spain's also going down the drain and he can't take part in
this sinking ship no more.

“
It
won't matter anyway, at least not anymore, right?”

As soon as the words leave
my mouth I repent ever saying them.

“
Giana,
baby, I think it's best that you started... moving on.”

Great. This is a fucking
intervention.

“
I
know.”

You know that feeling of
having eyes on you and you're certain it's not your companions?

“
Your
mother told me about Mr. Dennis.”

Jerk up.

“
It's
nothing serious.”

“
I'd
prefer it was.”

He's smiling. A good sign.
That means he approves.

Yet, should he?

“
Let's
see where it goes.” I survey the room and find where that
uncomfortable feeling is coming from.

Secret Agent Man is sitting
across the restaurant and doesn't have the grace to look away.

He's staring at me, I stare
back, then Dad turns to see what the fuck it is I'm looking at and,
only then, Ross ducks into his plate.

“
What
is it, baby?”

“
Nothing.
Thought I saw someone.” Shrug of the shoulders but not the
mind. “Are you going to the hospital after this?”

“
Yes.
I'm meeting with the team of doctors and no, I don't think you should
tag along. It'll be better if you spend some time in the bookstore
and I'll tell you when you can visit her.”

I'm not a child anymore.

I'm not a freaking child
any-fucking-more.

Father eyes smolder in a way
hard to describe and Mari Paz's hand lands on mine and yes, I know
the chorus:

Everything will be all
right. Every thing will be all right.

We're done and I ask for a
second cup of coffee that I'll have on one of the tables outside,
where I can smoke and look at all the shiny happy people walking by.

And Dad says until later and
Mari Paz asks if I want her to stay but decides it's the best that
she leaves since it's clear on my face I need time.

Time to be alone.

Time to think what the fuck.

Time to light up my slow
death-delivering device and for Kenneth Ross to join the ride.

“
You're
not police. Department of Defense?” I ask.

He's joining me with a
cigarette and halts. Drawls a “Yes.”

“
What
do you want?”

“
I
believe I was clear enough last time.”

“
Are
you following me?”

“
Miss
Armstrong, this is a matter of national security.”

National security my ass.

“
He's
not a terrorist.”

“
What
if he was?”

Scoff. Laugh. Sip from the
cup.

“
I
want you to tell me what it is you're trying to do or else I shall
start screaming rape.”

“
What?”

Open my mouth.

“
No,
wait, Miss. This is a terrible misunderstanding.”

“
How
can I understand something that hasn't been explained to me?”

“
There's
nothing to explain here.”

“
You
pig!” Leap to my feet and hit the table with an open hand.

“
No,
no, please.” And all of a sudden he's reaching out to me.

“
Don't
you dare touch me!” Crazy eyes, Giana, do the 'I'm crazy,
motherfucker' eyes.

The patrons take notice and
he's furious about it.

“
Okay!
Okay! Sit down!”

I sit all unladylike and
stare at him.

“
I
am
Department of Defense, but what we're trying to do is safeguard the
world's human population from a direct threat.”