Isn't It Past Your Bedtime

by J L Ender

  This was no normal night.

  I followed the golden figure down a short back alley. If he could tell I was following him, he didn’t show it. The golden man led me onto an open, brightly lit street crowded with cars. Most of the cars were still running, with people sleeping behind the steering wheels. The golden man darted between two idling vehicles as he crossed the street. I followed. Something about the sight made my palms sweat, but I couldn’t pinpoint why.

  There was a stoplight nearby. Not as many cars going the other direction had stopped, but there were a few. A second little golden man was hopping from car to car. I skidded to a stop when I saw him.

  There’s TWO of them?

  The thought was so alarming, I couldn’t move. Frozen with indecision, I found myself staring from one to the other. The first was getting away, already halfway across an alley just in front of us, this one longer and much darker than the last.

  Just choose, I told myself. This was no time to be indecisive. I had to move! I decided to keep following the first of the golden figures. He seemed to be walking with purpose, where the second looked more like he was goofing around.

  I charged down the alley, leaping over trash bags and moving around an overflowing dumpster. My heavy jet boots kicked aside bits of junk as I ran. This alley was wedged between two large buildings, and it was so dark that I could barely see. If I ever got the chance, I needed some kind of lights installed on this thing.

  I emerged this time into an empty parking lot. The little golden man was joined by eleven or twelve other little golden men. I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket, and realized too late the mistake I’d made. I couldn’t reach my cell phone again! Since most of the city— if not the world— had fallen asleep, I had to assume it was Katrina trying to get ahold of me. That would be the next thing I added to the suit. Pockets.

  The slew of faceless golden figures were all converging on a vague, dark shape I couldn’t make out—some sort of giant lump. The streetlights were too far away to illuminate whatever it was. I caught sight of a color that was almost gold, but nowhere near as bright. Almost like… brass?

  Could it be… the stolen metal was out here? But why?

  There was a taller figure standing next to the metallic lump.

  “I thought you might show up,” Sandman said. “You seem like a guy who can’t take no for an answer.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “Why is everyone asleep?”

  “All part of the plan,” he said. I still couldn’t see his face. He was just another shape moving in the dark.

  The golden men moved in, forming a circle around the brass lump. They lit up Sandman just enough that I could see his familiar smirk, but his eyes remained hidden in shadow.

  “When is everyone going to wake up?” I asked.

  “Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?” He paused. “What answer do you want to hear?”

  “Right away,” I said without hesitation. “Wake everyone up right now.”

  “What if I said never? To be honest, I haven’t really made up my mind, but I do kind of like the world like this. It’s so… peaceful, don’t you think? The world is such an unpleasant place. Don’t you think everyone’s better off peacefully snoozing away?”

  That seemed to confirm it… the whole world was sleeping!

  “People should have a right to choose,” I said.

  “I disagree, but let’s not argue. How about this, I’ll give you a job offer. Join me and do what I say and only what I say and maybe I’ll let you live! I’d throw in an offer to wake up dear old Mom and Dad but I’d be lying, and I’m an honest Sandman.”

  “Is that the same offer you gave Elephant Boy?” I asked. He was another piece of the puzzle I didn’t understand.

  “Never mind him! What about you?”

  “What are you going to do if I say no?” I asked.

  “Had a feeling that might be your next question.” He snapped his fingers. Or tried to. He made the motion, but the sound that came out was more of a papery rasp than any kind of snap.

  “You can’t snap your fingers?” I asked. I snapped my fingers once. It was difficult in my suit, but I managed a distinct, satisfying click.

  “Shut up!” Sandman replied. “Steve!” He made another unsuccessful attempt to snap his fingers.

  “Even my little sister can snap her fingers,” I said. “And she’s been able to do it for years. I’ve never met someone older who couldn’t.”

  “I said SHUT UP! STEVE!”

  “Who’s Steve?” I had a guess. “Is that your brother?”

  “Beeswax? Mind your own, Tin Man!”

  “Uh, what?”

  “I think you got your own problems to deal with, kid.”

  …And then I looked down. I was surrounded by a circle of the little golden men. This was a second group; the ones surrounding Sandman had not moved. There were now well over two dozen of the little golden men in the parking lot.

  Not good.

  Time to run.

  “GET HIM!” Sandman yelled. He tried to snap his fingers again, then waved his hand haphazardly at me.

  I didn’t wait around. As the golden men closed in, I took off, leaping over one of the figures in the process. The tiny men tore after me. I noticed their feet made a light tink-tink sound on the ground as they ran.

  I stopped at the entrance to the alley. Why was I running? What was I afraid of? I was in an armored suit. I snapped my fingers without thinking.

  “Oh, now you’re just showing off!” Sandman yelled.

  I could fight. Why not fight?

  I raised my arm and fired my laser into the oncoming horde.

  It had exactly zero effect.

  “Pigeon teeth!” I muttered.

  I took several steps back and fired a rocket. There was a great explosion, ripping up chunks of asphalt, and then… when the smoke cleared…

  There was still a horde of little golden men running toward me, totally unfazed.

  Not. Good.

  One of the golden men at the front of the pack ran at me and kicked my shin. The kick dented the metal of my suit.

  These little monsters could dent my supposedly indestructible suit?

  Now it was REALLY time to run.

  “Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Sandman called. “We’ll help you get some sleep, Tin Man!”

  I turned and fled down the alley, his laughter echoing after me.

  Chapter 15

  I kept running back the way I’d come, retracing my steps so that I wouldn’t get lost. Back through a maze of idling cars, this time being chased by little golden men. Back down a short alley and onto Sandman’s street. I looked up briefly at the window I’d jumped through. No sign of Katrina. I’d have to go up anyway. It’d be a good place to barricade until I got rid of my pursuers.

  I tore through the small, dark lobby and into the elevator. Rather than opening the door, the golden men just crashed through, shattering the glass. I pressed the button for the elevator. Something, somewhere, rumbled, but the doors did not open right away. I turned. I could take the stairs, but the enemy might catch me. The elevator was a better way to lose the gold men. It was a chance at a clean break… or so I hoped at least.

  I kicked out at one of the frontrunners, knocking him back. They were solid. I almost couldn’t get enough power behind my kick. I didn’t have many options, so I kept kicking out until the elevator finally opened. I ducked inside, tapping the “door close” button like crazy. The doors slooooooooowly shut. I blocked the doorway with my body as the little things tried to get inside. Several of them got kicks of their own in at me, further denting my armor, but none of them made it inside.

  I caught my breath as the elevator made its way up. I was still panting for breath when I stepped into Sandman’s apartment.

  Katrina was not there.

  Wherever she had gone, I could only hope she was safe. She probably hadn’t tried to follow me, or else I would have run into her. Right?


  I closed the door and pressed a table against it. I’d busted everything but a thin chain lock, and that didn’t seem like nearly enough to keep the enemy out. I left the sliding lock dangling, but then as I walked away I changed my mind and turned back and slid it into place. Better than nothing.

  Feeling safer now, I took off the chest, arms, and helmet of my suit so that I could get to my phone. I had two missed calls from Katrina. I tried to call her, but she didn’t answer.

  I glanced back at the barricaded door. Should I go look for her? If so, where to look? I decided to poke around Sandman’s apartment a little more while I was here. It had seemed so important to know Sandman’s home. To know my enemy. What did this place tell me?

  He was poor.

  He was messy.

  He had a relative or friend who needed a hospital bed.

  I glanced at the bed. There was a stand for an IV and some equipment behind the headboard, but I didn’t know enough about hospitals to figure out what any of it meant.

  I walked into the hallway and glanced into each of the rooms. First up was a grimy bathroom that made me glad I didn’t need to pee. Second room was empty. Third… a messy bedroom, with the bed shoved against a wall. There were piles of junk and clothes everywhere. Several shirts and a few of Sandman’s stupid floppy hats had been draped across the upturned side of the bed. The sheets were dirty, but from the way stuff had been discarded on or around it, Sandman hadn’t slept there in a long time.

  That seemed odd. Why had he quit sleeping in his own bed?

  I checked the closet. Some clothes and shoes. I was about to leave when something next to the bed caught my eye.

  A glass bowl filled halfway up with silver dust.

  The source of Sandman’s power?

  I picked up a handful of dust and let it sift through my fingers. On a whim, I decided to shove some into my pocket. With half the suit still on, I had to wriggle a little to get it into my jeans, but that might pay off later. If the opportunity came up later to analyze the strange powder further, I would be ready. There could be more to the stuff than met the eye. I thought it might be the reason he was stealing silver.

  A loud rumble came from back toward the kitchen. I felt stupid for taking half my armor off. I ran back to the living room where I’d left it all in a heap.

  I started putting it all back on. Outside, I heard more noises. Someone banging on the door, then a voice.

  “I know you’re in there, Sandman! Come on out!” The voice sounded like a kid.

  I put on my helmet and walked toward the door, feeling safer with my suit on. I moved the table aside, then pressed my body against the door so it couldn’t be pushed open.

  Putting the eyepiece of my helmet to the door, I saw a gun barrel. It took me a moment to realize the gun was in the hands of a child younger and smaller than my sister. He was tapping his foot with impatience and frowning.

  Weighing my options, I decided I would open the door. If he was an enemy of Sandman, he might be an ally for me, and I needed friends right then, and all the help I could get.

  I slid the chain lock away and opened the door slowly, laser ready just in case.

  The gun the kid was carrying was a gigantic silver contraption held in both hands. It was taller than the boy and almost as big around, practically a cannon. Purple lights glowed on one side and a small fan-like gizmo seemed to help him hold the great device up. He was wearing silver goggles and a red and black jumpsuit.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  His frown turned into a wicked grin. He pulled a pump under the barrel of the gun and the barrel lit up green and purple. The weapon made a whirring sound as though charging up.

  “You can call me Stuffmaker.”

  Chapter 16

  “How’d you get the suit?” Stuffmaker asked, helping himself to cookies and milk in Sandman’s kitchen.

  “I’m a friend of Iron Wraith,” I said.

  “Oh yeah, where is that guy?” he asked with a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie.

  “Asleep, like everyone else,” I said.

  Stuffmaker nodded, still chewing.

  That really is a terrible codename, I thought, remembering Tony’s words. I would have given just about anything to have Tony’s help just then.

  “Why aren’t you in sleepyland?” Stuffmaker gulped down some milk.

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Sandman’s powers don’t work on me. Why aren’t you?”

  He tapped the goggles, which he’d never taken off. “Made these when I figured out what Sandman was up to.”

  “You know Sandman?” I asked.

  Stuffmaker nodded. “He came to me, asked for a machine that could boost his powers. I said no way, no how. Guess he found another way.” The kid took a huge bite of cookie.

  “Hungry?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “Not allowed to have cookies at home,” he said with a shrug, shoving a whole one into his mouth. “Come on.” He stood and grabbed an unopened package of Oreos. “We got work to do.”

  - - -

  “How’s that suit treating you?” Stuffmaker asked, roughly wiping an impressive array of crumbs from around his mouth.

  “It’s been great,” I said. My helmet dangled from one hand. “Saved my life more than once.”

  We were on the roof of Sandman’s building, surveying the area. Small golden men were swarming all over the ground below. They had the entire apartment surrounded. There was no way to leave from the ground level without getting attacked. Stuffmaker had leaned his gun against a metal vent and gone to work on his Oreos. I’d explained what little I’d learned so far about Sandman and what he was up to.

  “Looks like it’s taken a beating,” he said with his mouth full, nodding toward my shins. The leg armor had really been roughed up by the golden men. It was covered in small dents the shape of their “feet.”

  “Yeah, those gold monsters pack a wallop.” I looked out at the city. It looked so… normal. From up here, you couldn’t see the cars stopped in the streets or the people sleeping on the sidewalk. All you could see were buildings lit up like any other night.

  “How ‘bout a few upgrades?” Stuffmaker waved a hand toward the suit. “Anything you need? Anything you want to add?”

  I thought for a moment. “You serious? You could do that?”

  “As long as I can get my hands on some raw material, yes. The appliances in Sandman’s kitchen should do it. I can reinforce the armor, for starters. Clearly, you’re gonna need that to get us out of here. I can also improve the jet boots. I’ve been practicing to try and get them made right, so I can fly longer. Anything else you want?” He shoved four Oreos in his mouth.

  “Well…” I thought about what I’d needed so far. Bluejay had been able to take on Elephant Boy, ending the battle when I couldn’t. “Can you make it stronger? Like, able to lift a ton?”

  “A’ atooal un?” he asked through a mouth packed with cookies.

  “Huh? Could you stop eating for like two seconds?”

  He swallowed. “Sorry. I said, like an actual ton? You want to be able to lift… a whole lot?”

  “Yes!” I pictured Elephant Boy at full size. I needed to be able to fight that.

  “I think that’s possible. I’ll give it a try. You may not be able to lift much more at first, but I can always improve it later.”

  “Awesome. I’ll buy you a barrel of cookies if you can help me stop Sandman.”

  “Cookies don’t come in barrels.” Stuffmaker rolled his eyes. “Amateur.”

  “Then I’ll buy a bunch of cookies and put them in a barrel,” I said, forcing myself not to sigh.

  “Why?” One eyebrow arched. “Why not just… buy me a bunch of cookies? I like that plan better.”

  “Ok, we have a deal,” I said.

  “Great, anything else?” Stuffmaker asked.

  There was only one other thing I could think of. One thing I would have loved more than almost anything else.

&n
bsp; “Can you add some pockets?”

  - - -

  Upgrading my suit was surprisingly quick. Stuffmaker and I walked back downstairs to Sandman’s place. He had me remove my armor, then snap it all back together so it could stand on its own. “For your safety,” he’d explained. “If something goes wrong.”

  Once this was done, he touched the oven, then the suit. The oven almost instantly turned into a small pile of plastic as all the metal transferred into the suit. The armor bulked up, growing thicker and sturdier, the dents vanishing.