Just Another Job (12 page)

“Come on,” said Frank and sprinted for the
American Eagle Outfitters hidden behind plastic palm trees and
heavy cologne. Their move for a new cover spot went unnoticed as
they were now at the advantage of viewing the shooter from the
side. A bag full of ammunition or worse hung on the shooter's back.
More blasts from the shotgun made Frank and Chris flinch. Debris
from shattered glass, tiles, soil from obliterated planters, chunks
of white drywall, and shreds of paper products became the new mall
landscape.

The sight of malicious destruction held
Chris's attention until from the corner of his eyes he saw Frank
pounce from their crouched spots behind the wood shutters. Frank
stalked towards the back of the man still firing into the stores
and every breakable object around until ten feet separated them. At
which Frank broke into a sprint with the intent of tackling him
just like the teenager before. Although the impact of the hit was
similar, the result left Frank on the ground to the side with the
shooter only dropping to one knee. The shotgun clattered across the
floor out of both their reaches under a bench. Frank glanced to it
and the now slightly unarmed man next to him. Both were a bit
dazzled over the collision, but in a strange unison they gained
their feet at the same time.

From the safety of the American Eagle
Outfitters, Chris watched his best friend stand face to face with
the shooter. The two paused in order to garner a look at their
opponent before the match continued. Frank soaked in as much as he
could and pulled his fist back, but the powerful swing met only
air.

Klaus had whiplashed into the shooter with
such speed the two of them hit the floor and slid ten feet into the
same bench that covered the shotgun. As soon as Frank realized
where his target had moved to, Johnykin appeared and grabbed his
arm. She spoke into his ear and he pointed at the American Eagle
Outfitters and Chris. Johnykin ran over with a less enthusiastic
Frank, who kept looking back at Klaus and the shooter tangle with
one another.

“You're alright? Thank God, you're alright,”
said Johnykin to Chris as he finally stepped out from cover. She
grabbed his hand and smiled near to tears. Chris grinned from one
corner of his mouth, embarrassed to be found where he was. But that
only brought Johnykin to a full waterfall. She tried to hide the
tears by pulling Chris into a hug.

“Really?” said Frank at the sappiness in
front of him. Chris looked at Frank to apologize in some way, but
saw something else more immediate.

The shooter was more powerful than expected.
He flung an elbow into the side of Klaus's head that sent him to
his knees. This break allowed the shooter to pounce on his shotgun
which he butted against the back of Klaus’s head. The hit knocked
Klaus face first into the ground with his arms and legs stretched
out as if trying to embrace the floor. Johnykin and Frank turned
back to the action to see what Chris was already witness to. The
shooter took notice of the three of them and pointed. Without
thinking Chris shoved Johnykin into Frank, knocking them down and
out of range. The shooter fired a direct shot into Chris's chest.
Even from the twenty plus feet of distance, Chris was thrust onto
his back. Johnykin screamed and ran at the shooter who was
reloading. Her speed took him by surprise and she slammed the gun
into the ground. The shooter swung at her head, but she ducked and
grasped his throat. Her short stature became even shorter as she
raised him off his feet by the neck.

Klaus roused from his spot, dazed but
otherwise healthy after having his brain raddled, yelled,
“Johnykin!”

Still holding the shooter in the air gasping
to breathe, Johnykin looked over. Klaus smiled as if everything was
okay and pointed back to Chris. The umpire's vest was bullet proof.
Chris had his elbows on his knees while Frank checked him over.
Johnykin dropped the shooter who hit the ground hard for being only
a few inches above it. She started to make her way back to Chris,
but stopped mid-step. The shooter was crumpled on the ground
unconscious or too beat to move. Johnykin swung her leg back and
kicked him in the gut. An action that placed a finishing note on
the drama, as the kick sent the shooter flying and then rolling
across the mall floor.

“Thank God,” said Johnykin, who ran back
over and hugged Chris's head.

“Yeah,” said Chris, still amazed he wasn't
dead.

“I never get a hug,” said Frank. Klaus snuck
up behind and hugged him tightly. The pinch took the air out of
Frank's lungs and he sputtered, “Thanks.”

“That's one way to stop a massacre,” said
Klaus.

Frank caught his breath. “Where the hell
were you two?”

“Looking for you,” said Johnykin. She raised
Chris up apparently satisfied that he was going to live and should
be walking on his own again. “When you were gone for so long we
thought the shoplifter had made it outside.”

“We caught him right before,” said
Chris.

“Of course,” said Klaus. “Then all of this
happened. You two are making us look bad. 'Sidekicks Catch
Shoplifter, Thwart Shooting Massacre.'”

“Or 'Partners Do All the Work While Supers
Stand Around Parking Lot,'” said Frank.

“Both of those suck. I need some ice,” said
Chris.

“Well 'team,' I'm going to call Erik and the
cops,” said Johnykin. She strutted away back to the shooter. Klaus
followed and zip tied the shooter’s hands behind his back. Johnykin
lifted the shooter to his feet and took him with her.

Klaus, Frank, and Chris stood looking at
each other awkwardly. None knew what to say so Frank stated the
obvious to break the silence. “I told you it was bullet proof.”

“Uh-huh,” said Chris.

“Are your suits bullet proof too?” asked
Frank.

“I do have super powers, remember?” said
Klaus. “It's not just the suit. But I do look bad ass and I guess
you two should look as cool if you're going to stand next to me.
I'll talk to Erik. He listens to me.”

“You mean Erik listens to someone besides
himself?” said Chris. The quip came out before Chris realized how
out of character it sounded. Frank looked at Chris with pride while
Klaus looked annoyed. Chris thought to apologize but instead
shrugged his shoulders. He just got shot, he thought. Screw Klaus
and Erik. “Let's get some ice cream. We at least deserve that?”

Frank and Klaus followed Chris to an
information tower that mapped out all the stores for new visitors.
By the time they deciphered where anything was and bickered over
Haagen-Dazs versus Berry Delight Frozen Yogurt, Johnykin returned.
According to her, the cops were already at the doorstep from calls
they received earlier. She dumped the shooter with them and
strongly advised they pick some ice cream up from somewhere else on
the way out.

The way out was worse than dealing with the
shooter in Chris's mind. When they came out the front doors,
Johnykin waved the SWAT team's guns down, but they still ran around
them into the mall. Next were the throngs of reporters crowding the
police line like an old, black and white serial except half of them
held up cell phones to record it all. Klaus pushed his way to the
front to take on the questions. He was easy and natural amidst the
rush of questions as if he practiced beforehand. Johnykin had some
practice or at least tutoring about the situation too. She
positioned Frank to the right and just behind Klaus and then put
herself and Chris to Klaus's left with Chris paralleling Frank by
being just a bit behind her. Two Supers in front; their sidekicks
or partners or whatever dutifully next to but behind.

A couple of questions were directed
explicitly at Johnykin, Frank, and Chris, but beyond those few
Klaus answered everything. The four stood for less than thirty
minutes, but when it was done Chris felt soaked with sweat. Of
course his costume along with an afternoon sun did their part, but
really he was nervous about what Sadie would think and say. This
wasn't going to go unnoticed, even though she did her best to stay
away from news channels and sites. And of course he would tell her
about it when she asked. Chris racked his brain for a good enough
reason to convince her, and himself, this was a job worth
keeping.

Chapter Ten

Erik gave Chris and Frank two weeks paid leave along
with a salary bonus due to their timely intervention with the mall
shooter. Even though they were off work, Erik did enforce mandatory
counseling sessions with Neal. Frank counter offered going back to
work in place of the psych visits, but Erik relished getting the
reports about the team from Neal. It was all part of the data
needed to keep the experiment running in a transparent fashion.
“Teams don't have secrets,” said Erik. Then Frank asked to see
Neal's psychological analysis of Erik, which prompted an ambiguous
reply along with a few rhetorical questions about how long Frank
wanted to work for Timely National, and if he wanted to return his
bonus with interest.

“Fucking pussy,” said Frank, adding some
director’s commentary to the retelling of his and Erik’s
conversation. They were heading back across the Altamont from the
first counseling session. Chris had been with Neal when Frank’s
story happened. Although Frank was angry with Erik, Chris could
tell that Frank was happy with their jobs, especially since he
didn't have to hold back in front of their boss. In fact, now that
Chris thought about it he was pretty sure Frank called Erik a pussy
to his face and still didn't get fired.

“You're still coming over for barbecue
Saturday, right?” asked Chris.

“I guess. Don't you ever get tired of
cooking on that piece of shit? You should at least get something
new and spring for steaks this time. I know you got a bigger bonus
than I did because your dumb ass got shot.”

“I deserved every penny of that check. That
shotgun freaking hurt. Maybe I’ll talk to Sadie about a new grill.
I think she's finally not mad at me for almost dying.”

“Tell her to lighten up. You saved the
day.”

“If I get steaks, you better bring good
beer.”

“Keystone is good.”

“If you're at a frat party, maybe. I have to
drink at least five of those to get any kind of buzz and Sadie
won't let me drink more than three.”

“You're more of a pussy than Erik. Man up
and tell her to fuck off. You got shot in the ass and deserve to
drink five beers.”

“
I'll tell her you said
that and see how many beers you get to drink. She'll throw them
over the fence into the neighbor’s like last year.” The memory gave
Chris the giggles. “Oh my God. You two were so pissed at each
other. Just staring, red-faced. I swear I thought your heads were
going to explode. It was like Arnold in
Total Recall
.”

Chris puts his hands to his contorted face
with bulging eyes and used his best Austrian accent, “Aaaahh!”

Frank couldn’t help but laugh.

“I guess Scanners would’ve been worse,” said
Chris, and mimed an explosion going off in his head. “Boom.”

“You’re such a dork. Alright, shut up. I’ll
bring something good.”

A wind kicked the leaves out of the
eucalyptus tree that spread shade through most of Chris's backyard.
Chris loved barbecuing. He wasn't an expert, but the smell of
charcoal burning inches away on a sunny late afternoon cleared his
head. At least until he made his head swim just slightly with two
Newcastles on an empty stomach. But even with the small buzz and
loss of fine motor skill, Chris experienced these moments clearer.
The turning of meat at just the right moment to create a burnt
outside that complemented the juices trapped inside was felt rather
than timed out. His gut told him when it was done or when the corn
needed to be pulled off to cool down. And he listened and it
worked. But the biggest reason Chris pushed to cook his dinner over
an open fire so often was that the greatest stories were generated
in this platform. This was another thing he could feel. Whether it
was the tragic love drama put into such breathtaking measures by
Louise and Frank’s wife Gail, a school yard epic adventure by Gerry
and Frank’s son Simone, the live staging of powerful personalities
in Sadie and Frank, or Chris’s own fanciful myths about the origins
of everything. A barbecue created the best narratives. 

“You better not forget my pineapple. And
don't grill it next to the hotdogs this time. I could taste it,”
said Sadie from her lawn chair.

“Sure you could,” said Chris.

“You better enjoy that beer. It cost me
eight fucking dollars for a six pack,” said Frank, as he handed
Chris a third bottle. “Like the new grill, by the way. You just
have to match the rest of your backyard to it.”

“You calling my backyard ugly?” said
Chris.

“Yes,” said Frank. “Don't burn my steak.
There better be some red left in the middle.” He walked over to
Gail, who was sitting next to Sadie in the second lawn chair Chris
owned. Frank kissed his wife on the cheek and jokingly offered
Sadie his beer.

“Stop giving my husband beers. He's had
enough,” said Sadie.

“Last one, I swear. They're too expensive to
waste any more on him,” said Frank.

“Don't be a jerk,” said Gail, and slapped
Frank on the butt. “Check on Simone and the others please while
you're up.”

“Yes ma'am,” said Frank, and saluted the two
ladies. He opened the sliding door to the house and stepped aside
quickly. Simone popped through the door wearing a plastic Captain
America mask and matching plastic shield. Gerry was next out the
door but with a Thor helmet and foam hammer. Frank watched the two
boys run across the grass and then disappear around the side of the
house. He made to walk into the house, but stepped back again to
let Louise through.

Louise stared into her phone as her thumbs
punched letters with blinding speed to form a very important
conversation. Frank yelled at her hello and moved his hand over her
phone to block her vision. Louise instinctively slapped his hand
away and yelled a just as loud ‘hello’ back. Frank finally made his
way into the house. Louise sat on one of the few patches of grass
next to her mother and Gail to partially join the conversation.