by R. J. Ross
Sandra stares at her as Reaper starts to laugh.
“I like your style, kid,” he says. “What’s your name, what’s your power?”
“I’m Emily! I’m a duplicator, there are three of me,” she says as two soft “poofs” sound and her doppelgangers appear on either side of her. “I’m partners with Kid Liberty, but I’m pretty good at being my own partner, really.”
“I can see that,” Reaper says.
“Next!” Hisato Nao calls. “You had best pay me well, Reaper. I am retired,” he adds as Sandra moves forward. Hisato looks at her for a moment before standing and walking around her. “This is that daughter you spoke of?”
“She is,” Reaper says.
“Beautiful,” Hisato says. “We will put you in rhinestones.”
“I don’t wear dresses,” Sandra says. “I’ll put up with a suit.”
“I think I can work with that,” Hisato says.
“Skye! We’re going to have a party!” Emily says, holding her phone, now. “Bring the girls up here to the apartments and you can get flapper dresses for it with me!”
“I told you—“ Sandra calls out.
“Thank you, Emily, I appreciate your assistance,” Reaper says, looking far too satisfied. And then he heard a very familiar voice.
“Alright, everyone, just down these stairs... The theme of this party is Swing, so think Flapper dresses, Zoot suits or pinstripes, and wingtips.” Jack walks into the room leading a very long line of teenagers. “It’s not my style, but hey, it IS style--Reaper, meet all of the kids in Cape High.”
“All of them?” Reaper says, his slight smirk falling.
“Well, not ALL of them,” Jack says. “Technically we have a South Branch, too. Get in line, people, we need to streamline this.”
“This place is amazing,” Vinny says. “But the real question is, how’s the kitchen?”
“I want to see it ALL!” Carla says, zipping around the room rather than standing in line. “Hey, hey, this lady’s not wearing underwear, is she? I mean, all you can see is her hip, but I really doubt she’s wearing any. Oh, hi! Are you Sandra’s daddy?” she asks, standing right in front of Reaper, now.
“Weren’t you over there just—“ he stops himself, shaking his head before holding out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you, little speedster.”
“A pleasure to meet you!” she says, taking the hand and curtsying before grinning widely at him. He lets out a short laugh. “Hey, hey, if you’re Sandra’s daddy, that makes us family, right? Because we’re all zoo kids, which makes us siblings. Are you going to teach us to swing dance?”
He looks at her, stunned. His jaw is slightly hanging, he’s so shocked. “You’re a zoo kid?” he asks a bit hoarsely.
“Uh huh,” she says.
“How many of you are zoo kids?” he asks, turning to the line of kids. More than half of them raise their hands. “I see. Well, um…”
“Carla,” Carla provides.
“Carla, the Swing Dance comes from the forties, the Flapper dresses come from the twenties—you’re talking a whole different generation… for the norms, that is. I enjoyed both,” he says, giving up with a grin. “I could probably teach you any dance from the past you like, sweetheart, just say the word.”
“How did you learn to dance all those dances, looking like… well, death?” Sandra asks curiously.
“I owned a little underground club,” Reaper says. “Everyone knew who I was, but back in the days of prohibition, nobody cared. The government turned a blind eye to a guy like me doing things. After the prohibition was over, I kept it open, and they told younger people about it, and so on, until… oh, about World War II ended, maybe a little after, think about 1950. After that, I decided to get into Wall Street, closed the club, and took up a different occupation. I still followed the trends, though. You can’t get past the love of music and dancing that easily.”
“So is there going to be alcohol?” Jack asks.
“Doesn’t do anything for most capes, at least not for long,” Reaper says. “But for those over twenty-one, yes. For you kids, though, we’ll set up a soda fountain, where you can mix your own flavors, since I don’t feel like bringing in a soda jerk. That’ll double for the adults making their own drinks.”
“So… where are you going to sleep?” Vinny asks, leaving the line behind. “Ah, found the kitchen. Nice setup,” he says as he sticks his head through a door.
“I’ve got a room set up,” Reaper says.
“Next!” Hisato calls.
***
“Here,” Reaper says, handing a flat cup and a clay bottle to the man sitting on the couch before dropping into his own chair. He’s got a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Straight from Japan, as usual. There are three more under the counter,” he adds.
“Appreciated,” Hisato says. “You always were good at providing the hard to find. What is on your mind, my old friend?”
“Those kids,” Reaper says, “I was just aiming to meet a few villain girls, but… did you see what happened to the ones called the ‘zoo kids’?”
“I did,” Hisato says. “My daughter is quite enamored with them.”
“My daughter IS one,” Reaper says, grimly sipping his whiskey.
“Helllooooo! Are we too late for the fittings?” a woman asks from right over his head. He looks up, raising an eyebrow at the sight of a head coming through his ceiling. “We would have been here earlier, but Dolly decided that she wanted to come—it’s really hard to plan a trip with someone when you’re in the middle of fighting them, did you know that?”
The skinny female slides straight through the ceiling, pulling four other females behind her. Three of them fall as soon as they let go of someone else’s hand. Reaper moves his table and Hisato grabs his sake before they can crash into it. “My name is Skystep!” the skinny girl declares, her hands on her hips. “The most powerful villain in the WORLD!”
“I should take that as a challenge, shouldn’t I? Reaper says, taking another drink. “You’re cute, kid.”
“This place is amazing,” the African American woman wearing the very fluffy looking skirt says, looking around. “I’ve always loved retro!”
“Why was I dragged along?” another asked, standing and dusting her jeans off.
“Um, well, uh,” Skye says, blushing slightly. “So… I’m Skystep and these two are my partners, and those two are my nemeses! And we’re here because my niece told us to come to a party!”
“You bring your nemeses to parties?” Reaper says, looking over at Hisato. Hisato is very discreetly finishing off his small bottle of sake, rather than speaking. That might be because Ariel dropped down next to him and is looking at the drink in his hand with big eyes.
“Is it good?” she asks.
“It’s an acquired taste,” Hisato says, drinking another cup.
“I can acquire taste,” she says, still giving him puppy dog eyes.
“I’m certain that you can,” Hisato says.
Reaper discreetly turns his attention back to Skye.
“They wanted to come!” Skye declares. “So we brought them! This is Dolly and Ruckus and my partners are Doris and Ariel. We want fancy dresses!”
“SHE wants fancy dresses, I could care less,” Doris says, looking around the room. “Ah, but I like the bar. Is it a ‘make your own’ sort of thing?”
“You have to be properly dressed to use the bar,” Reaper says, not letting his amusement show. She gives him a dark look before shrugging.
“Fine, but I don’t do dresses.”
“What is wrong with dresses? I can make you beautiful dresses that you will enjoy,” Hisato says, pulling his cup away from his mouth to complain. To his consternation, Ariel plucks it from his grasp and takes a drink.
“Oh, wow, this tastes weird,” she says, making a face, “and it’s warm.”
“That is why I said it was an acquired taste,” Hisato says, taking the cup back. “Now line up, I will dress you for the party.”
Reaper stays right where he is, drinking his whiskey and watching the little group of villains and heroes discuss fashion. This was what he’d wanted, right? Pretty girl villains hanging out in his place, a guy gets to this age and simple things make him happy—
“So, you’re death,” Doris says, sitting down next to him.
“Hmm? Ah, yeah, I’m the Grim Reaper.”
“Jersey Devil,” she says, holding out a hand. He gives her a little smile, shaking the hand.
“Nice to meet you, I think I had a brief run-in with your father… or grandfather?”
“Probably my father,” she says.
He pours himself another drink. “Ladies, can I ask a question?” They probably don’t know, but it’s weighing on his mind so much that he can’t enjoy the situation.
They stop talking, turning to look at him curiously. “What’s the problem?” Skye asks. “We can help!”
“What do you do with a group of kids that’ve been treated like crap?”
“You mean the zoo kids?” Ariel asks, grabbing for the sake cup again.
“My daughter is one. I love her, but… I’ve got no clue how to help her through it.”
“It’s not easy dealing with something like that. You can’t just fix it overnight, you know?” Ariel says.
“Nope, not at all,” Doris agrees. “At least I was unconscious for all of mine. How was it for you, Ariel?”
“I was conscious,” Ariel says.
“So you two were like that, too?” Reaper says, stunned.
“Chained up by the government,” Ariel says.
“Locked in a tube by the same… sort of, it might have just been Herold,” Doris agrees, taking the glass of whiskey that Reaper is holding and downing half of it. “But then we were picked up by Skye. We goof off for a living.”
“It’s a lot of fun!” Ariel agrees.
“AWW, MY GIRLS!” Skye yells, throwing herself at Ariel, and then at Doris. “I love you, too!”
Doris holds up the whiskey, trying not to spill it as she’s hugged. “But what we’re saying is… just be there for them, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Ariel says, tugging Skye down onto the couch next to her. “Being loved can help.”
“According to Hall gossip, America’s Son is acting as their counselor. That’s why so many have been open to joining other Halls,” Ruckus says, holding out her arms as Hisato’s powers kick in. Her clothes warp and she’s suddenly wearing a flapper dress. “Anyone ever seen the play, Chicago?” she asks, shaking slightly so the strings swish.
“Is that why you’re suddenly going along with this?” Dolly asks, laughing.
“I loved the movie version,” Ruckus says, grinning.
“Hello? Are we too late for the fitting sessions?” a woman calls from the door.
“LIZ!” Skye says excitedly, jumping up and racing towards her. “Let’s get ready for the party together!”
“Then we’re not too late, after all,” Ken says, stepping into the room. “I’ve always wanted to try on a Zoot suit.”
“Ah, just the man we were talking about,” Reaper says with a smile.
***
*The Next Day*
“What you need is some old fashioned, big band action down here,” Sam, the drummer of the Sundown Blues Boys says as the group walks into the basement club. “I always dreamed of playin’ a place like this, though.”
“It’s beautiful,” Clovis agrees, taking it in. “We had to book another band to take our place just so we could come, but it was worth it. How long have you had this place, sir?”
“I’m not a ‘sir,’ feel free to call me Reaper,” Reaper says, smiling slightly, “but it’s going on… two weeks, now, I’d say. But I used to own a place like this back in the past.”
“Well, Reaper, when you get to be my age, you think twice about being rude to the Grim Reaper,” Clovis says. “Boy, we need our instruments on that stage, there,” he tells Rochester.
“Sunny and the Liberty boys are bringin’ ‘em through the wall, Clovis,” Rochester says. “I’ll get ‘em down here as soon as possible.”
“I have the contracts here, and I’m sure you already realize that this place is to be kept secret, you’re in a band with one of my kind,” Reaper says, nodding towards Rochester. “I do appreciate you coming, gentlemen. I have a few of those… black suits, they call them, learning how to play properly, but until then, I’ll be relying on canned music. That’s not a proper way to throw the first shindig.”
“It is not,” Clovis agrees, looking at the glove that Reaper’s wearing. “Will that—“
“You’ll be perfectly safe, but if you don’t trust me…” Reaper says, lowering his hand.
Clovis grabs the hand. “I’ll take your word, Mr. Reaper.”
“We’re coming down with the instruments, now!” Sunny calls down the stairs. “Hey, if you’re looking for a regular singer for down here, I brought someone. She was here to visit, anyway!”
“Is THAT why you dragged me down here?” a girl demands irritably. She’s carrying a guitar case. “I just came to see Sandra.”
“Alyssa?” Reaper says.
“Glory be, we get help from an angel!” Sam says, happily as he sees the teen step off the stairs.
“I’m just an amateur,” Alyssa says as she steps into the room. “We’ve got Justin over at the dorms, he can do it.”
“So you’re a singer, are you?” Clovis says, walking over to her. “I’m always on the lookout for another singer.”
Alyssa looks at them all, and then turns and yells up the stairs, “SANDRA! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT, GIRL!”
“COMING!” Sandra yells back.
“Now, Alyssa, why so worried?” Reaper asks, almost laughing.
“Why do you think?” the teen demands, crossing her arms and staring at the band that’s now surrounded her. “I’m feeling a bit hunted, here, and I don’t even know why. You haven’t even heard me sing!”
“There’s the mic,” Reaper says, nodding to it. “Give it a shot.”
“I’ve got a granddaughter her age,” Sam says, happily, “I love the girl, but she’s got no sense of rhythm at all.”
“I can top it,” Clovis says, “my grandson CAN sing, but refuses to, says it’s ‘not cool,’ or whatever the hip phrase is. They keep changing it weekly. But I tell him, ‘How are you gonna get a wife if you don’t sing? You ain’t that pretty!’”
The rest of the band starts to laugh. “Kids today just don’t understand the importance between music and courtship,” Sam agrees.
Before they can go into that, Sandra comes down the stairs. “What took so long?” Alyssa demands, but she doesn’t look nearly as nervous, now. All the talk about grandkids has calmed her down, not that she’ll admit it.
“There were cookies,” Sandra says, wiping her mouth.
“You made me wait for cookies?!”
“I brought you one?” Sandra holds the cookie out. Alyssa pouts before grabbing it and eating. “So you gonna sing? Everyone’s going to show up here soon, for the party, though.”
“What do I sing?” Alyssa asks, hesitantly heading for the mic. “I don’t know any Blues. I REALLY don’t know any, um, whatever type music goes with this place,” she adds, looking around a bit blankly.
“Anything you want, angel,” Clovis says.
“Oh, um, okay,” she says, heading up the steps of the stage and picking up the mic. “Testing? Um, hi, okay, let’s do this,” she says as the band comes up to set up their instruments. To their amusement, she starts singing a gospel song.
“Should we say somethin’?” Rochester asks Reaper, grinning widely.
“I always have loved that old gospel music,” Reaper says with a smile. Rochester laughs. As she sings, people start coming down the steps, dressed up in their new outfits. The adults, the kids, even half of the Central Hall, all start cheering as Alyssa finishes her song.
“Lovely, sweetheart, just lovely,” Clovis
says. “We’ll get you some songs to sing when they start up their band. It would be a sin to not introduce you to Ella Fitzgerald.”
“I approve,” Reaper says, smiling widely. “She was a very talented woman.”
“Um, thanks,” Alyssa says, blushing as she runs down the steps.
“Well, everyone, welcome to the newly open… what are you planning on calling this place, Reaper?” Clovis asks as he takes the mic. Behind him, the band is setting up.
“It doesn’t have a name. It’s just a friends-only sort of thing, after all,” Reaper says, leaning against the bar with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“I think it should be called Dead Beats,” Jack calls out. “It’s owned by the Grim Reaper, right?”
“Welcome to Dead Beats,” Clovis says. “We’re the Sundown Blues Boys, but since this place is more of a big band sort of place, well, we’ve decided to change things up. Grab your horns, boys,” he calls to the band. Everyone but Sam and Charlie grab a horn and Sam starts pounding out a fun, addictive beat. Charlie adds a fast-paced piano to the mix. Swing music fills the air and the crowd starts to grin, heading for the dance floor. Reaper heads over to the soda fountain and starts making drinks, putting the alcoholic ones to the right and the non-alcoholic ones to the left. Once he’s made a few, his eyes fall on his daughter, who’s sitting on the couch, watching the dancing. He grabs a drink for her and walks over, handing her the glass before sitting down next to her.
“Nice suit,” he says.
“You, too, the gold isn’t nearly as blinding as I thought it’d be,” she says.
“Like the place?” he asks, draping an arm over the back of her couch behind her.
“Why’d you do all this?” she asks. “Seems like a lot of money for just a little group like ours.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, just to spend some time with my kid,” he says, taking a drink. “This isn’t your style, I know, but it’s what I’m good at. It looks like your fellow zoo kids are having fun.”
“Yeah,” she says, smiling slightly. “And I dunno, I could get to like this music.”
“You know,” he says, his hand idly touching her braids, “I’m new to this whole dad thing, so… any advice?”