Supervillain High

by Gerhard Gehrke

  “I apologize for the delay,” Mr. Childes said as he conducted Brendan into the office. “You’ve made it through your first week. I hope all is going well.”

  Brendan shrugged. “Well enough, I guess. Did you see the news?”

  “Which news?”

  “There was another event with supers in New York yesterday that involved my father. A robbery. My father was shot.”

  “I see. And what is your father’s condition?”

  “I have no way of finding out. The internet and phone have been out. The last news report I could find said he was in the hospital, and that it was critical. I’m going crazy trying to learn more. I was wondering if there was anything you could do to help.”

  “Unfortunately, the entire school has been experiencing the outages. Apparently, the problem is countrywide. I’m sure they will fix it soon. These things have happened before. But I’m not sure how I can help you with getting information.”

  “I was thinking if I could take the hyperloop and get to Los Angeles or Bakersfield, someplace more central, the internet might come back there first.”

  Mr. Childes steepled his fingers. “Dutchman Springs will be back on as soon as the rest, if not sooner. It was built with the modern data age in mind. If the problem affects us, it will affect those other cities just as severely. This issue will mostly just require your patience. Besides, we can’t have you leaving school without an escort. Your security is a priority. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “I do. It’s just that I’m freaking out a bit.”

  “Can I walk you to the nurse’s office? Nurse Dreyfus can suggest some things that could help with managing your stress.”

  “No, thank you. Does your landline work?”

  “It does.”

  “Can I use it to call my mom?”

  “Certainly. Let me take you to a desk where you can have some privacy.”

  ***

  Hearing his mom’s voice calmed him down some. She hadn’t been home. He found her at the hospital, where she picked up once she had been paged. She never carried her cell phone, said it was for emergencies only, which exasperated Brendan to no end.

  “Brendan, is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine. My phone’s been out, and I wasn’t able to reach you.”

  He heard the voices and racket of the hospital over the receiver.

  “It’s so good to hear your voice,” she said. “I hope you’re filling that big brain of yours with everything they’re teaching you. How are your classes?”

  “They’re good. Everything’s good. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Mico. Nothing to worry about here. I have to cover an evening shift, but I can always use the money.”

  “Mom, you should be sleeping.”

  “Not this early. I’ll catch a few hours, don’t worry.”

  Someone in the background was calling her name insistently. Brendan wanted to ask if she could check on his father, but he faltered. This was a topic they never spoke of.

  “Mom, I love you.”

  “I love you too, Mico. Call me tomorrow.”

  “I will.”

  6. Just a Schoolgirl

  Lucille wanted to meet at lunchtime so Brendan could help her with the basics of calculating the angles of a triangle. She had made a point of sitting close to Brendan throughout the second week of geometry class, but she alternated between being extra friendly with him, all smiles and winks, and not even responding to him when he said hello in passing.

  The teaching assistants had all left the math and science workshop, so they had it entirely to themselves.

  He pulled up the reference video from the school network. It was animated and informative. Lucille leaned in close, a hand on his forearm.

  “I’ve watched that already,” she said. “I want you to explain it.”

  Her eyes glazed over as he reviewed the formulae for determining altitude, vertices, and bisector lengths when other measurements were known. Brendan found himself regurgitating the basics of the terminology. She nodded a few times as he used the onscreen graphics to back up his explanations. When she stopped nodding and started to scowl, he decided to take a remedial step back in his lesson plan.

  He drew a triangle on his tablet. “So first, let’s start by defining what each type of triangle is. If this is an equilateral triangle, what do you know about it?”

  “Look, I know what that is. But it’s the stuff he was talking about today that didn’t add up.”

  “Okay. But I’m building up to that. I guess I was just trying to figure out what it is that you’re not understanding.”

  She flinched. “What do you mean?”

  “What? Nothing. I just think we need to get to where it is that the teacher lost you.”

  “He didn’t ‘lose’ me. I just found today hard to follow.”

  On his screen he navigated through the geometry class’s posted information and media. Everything the class had covered or would cover was there. He found the teacher’s notes from the morning.

  “Here it is. We can read through this now. Just stop me whenever, and I’ll go over the parts that get confusing.”

  “You get all this stuff, don’t you?” she asked. Her hand still hadn’t left his arm, but with her other fingers she tapped a slow rhythm on the desk. She was glaring at him.

  “Yeah, more or less. It’s really not that hard when you—”

  “You think I’m stupid.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I didn’t say you were stupid.”

  “I can see it on your face. You were thinking it.”

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  But Lucille got up from the desk and hurried towards the door. He tried to go after her but fumbled with his tablet, the desk, and then his feet. By the time he got himself together and outside, she was gone.

  ***

  He found Lucille in the school restaurant. She carried a tray with a cup of yogurt and a salad. Two large boys he had seen around followed behind her, one holding her purse and tablet. Perhaps they were upperclassmen. Perhaps they were confined to the physical education facility and did nothing but lift weights and chew barbells.

  “Lucille, hey,” Brendan said. “I just wanted to say I didn’t mean to imply that you needed tutoring from me or anything. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  She paused, a quizzical look on her face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  One of her boys stepped between them. Brendan took a step back, and Lucille and her escorts walked past to go sit in the crowded dining room. His own stomach made noise, and he got in line.

  “So, what brings you and the ice queen together?” Tina asked, appearing behind him with an empty tray flipping in her hands.

  “She’s in over her head with the geometry class.” Brendan put a plate with a sandwich on his tray. The turkey and cheese and ham overfilled the rustic bread, straining the stress capacity of the toothpicks that held it all together. Tina followed along and selected a piece of cheese pizza. She dumped a scoop of sliced black olives over it. Next she added some pickle slices, then cubes of braised tofu in a peanut sauce.

  “You’re judging me with your eyes,” she said as they walked outside. They sat next to each other on a bench.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her food. “I’m just not sure what I’m seeing.”

  “I’ve heard all the questions before. Have I lost my taste buds? Am I pregnant? Who cares? I like what I like.”

  “No judgment here. I’m just curious how you’re going to eat that without any silverware.”

  She showed him. The pizza curled just enough to contain its load, and she ate.

  “Watch out for her,” Tina said after daintily dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “She’s in one of my classes. She’s a flame who likes to have plenty of moths around her.”

  “I was just trying to help her with her homework.”

  “Yeah. But ask yourself what she thought you were h
elping her with.”

  ***

  The internet died again that afternoon. Brendan knew this because he checked his phone every five minutes. He guessed this was what it was like to be an amputee absently feeling for a phantom limb. Oddly enough, he was the only one in his new electronics class distracted by his phone, as the rest of the students were actually paying attention to the frizzy-haired teacher as she demonstrated the basics of wiring a solenoid. Ms. Hayes’s device, once triggered, would fire a piston into a steel ball, which would roll down a track, around a loop and down a descending corkscrew, and through a row of charged magnets, and smash into a row of five light bulbs. Poser was sitting front and center along with Vlad Behram, the big kid from Brendan’s dorm. Vlad was not only engaged but excited, barely staying seated. His white toothy smile shined in bright contrast to his dark skin. He elbowed Poser as the teacher explained the problem.

  Her wiring schematic was up on a projection. The class had to give her the right answers on where to attach the wires so that the bulbs and magnets would come on as soon as the piston fired. All of this connected to a small battery, which also had to be included in the circuit for the contraption to work.

  The class had to pay attention and give Ms. Hayes the right answers for the payoff. Brendan put his phone away and watched as the teacher tried to goad the students into having her do things that wouldn’t complete the basic circuit.

  “You think you have it?” she asked them.

  “Yes,” came the consensus from the class. Brendan was surprised that so many students at Dutchman Springs were actively occupied with their lessons and the teachers. In his middle school, only a few of the bright and brainy ever bothered with answering a question not directed solely at them.

  “Are you sure? Would you bet all the tea in China?”

  Brendan thought the design appeared sound. “It’s correct,” he said before anyone else answered. Suddenly all eyes were on him.

  “Then come up and hit the switch.”

  She stepped away from the wired machine. Brendan was suddenly uncomfortable, surprised at himself for having spoken aloud. He went to the front of the class and put his hand on the switch. He reviewed the wiring.

  “Not so certain anymore, are we?”

  “Go for it,” Poser said.

  “I’m certain. But I like to check again.”

  Ms. Hayes smiled and nodded. “Very wise. You may proceed, Mr. Garza.”

  He hit the switch. The piston fired, snapping the ball forward down its track. It looped, almost ran off the corkscrew rails, was accelerated by the magnets, and shattered the illuminated bulbs with a crash.

  The class hooted and clapped. Brendan sat down.

  “Excellent work. We see the need for quality assurance, don’t we? It’s not enough to have the theory down. Your work must be precise. Mr. Garza knew this instinctively, didn’t you?”

  Brendan offered a nod. He didn’t like the focus to be all on him.

  “Measure twice,” Vlad said. “Cut once.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Behram. Words to live by.”

  ***

  When class ended only half of the students left, even though it was the last period of the day. Vlad was interrogating the teacher on making circuit boards and Brendan listened in, intent on discovering the rules for after-hours lab access. Why were so many others sticking around?

  “Jumping ahead, are we, Mr. Behram?” Ms. Hayes asked.

  “I want to get to the interesting stuff,” Vlad said.

  “I thought all of my classes were interesting,” she said with a wink.

  Some of the remaining students laughed. “They are absolutely captivating,” Vlad said. “But they will captivate more if I can prepare myself for them.”

  “You don’t have to kiss my butt. I’ll post the class notes and videos this afternoon, but some of the steps will require supervision. You’re getting into lab work that involves the fun stuff like acetone that I keep locked up and out of the hands of students. That’s it for today.”

  This sounded like a dismissal. Brendan got up to leave but Poser gestured for him to wait. Six other students, including Vlad, also lingered. Ms. Hayes closed the classroom door and unlocked a few cabinets, revealing tools and other materials.

  “Make sure to keep your works in progress inside my office or locked in your project drawers,” Ms. Hayes said. “Close everything up when you’re finished. Use the safety equipment. Gloves and goggles when handling the ferric chloride and other chemicals. Make sure the door and windows get locked before you leave. Break any of these rules, and the electronics club gets canceled. Welcome Mr. Garza, everyone.”

  With a two-finger salute, she left them.

  Vlad gave Brendan a nod. Poser nudged him on the shoulder.

  “I didn’t know I was joining a club.”

  “It’s what she puts on our student record,” Poser said. “It looks good on the résumé, but Ms. Hayes seems to understand what a bunch of crap that all is. Besides, club’s just a fancy word for doing cool stuff with the best tools on campus during our free time. What would you rather be doing? Chess? Football?”

  “Debate society?” Vlad asked. “Student government?”

  Others chimed in. “Glee club?” “Track and field?” “Ornithology?” This descended into a “there is, there is not” argument over whether the school had a bird-watching club. A quick check of the school’s internal wiki confirmed it didn’t.

  “Just look at all of this,” Vlad said. “Think of the potential. Where else can you build your own super suit?”

  ***

  Lucille texted Brendan via the school’s network: “Where r u?”

  He stared at his tablet, wondering what she wanted. She had never texted him before, and with their last conversation fresh in his mind he had been convinced they wouldn’t ever need to speak again. But he replied.

  “Electronics lab.”

  “kk. BRT.”

  Brendan saw the time was just after five. He had lost himself in helping Vlad and two of the others with a large circuit diagram that would become part of a robot arm. They had the layout down, but the laser printer wasn’t working. Vlad suggested it was a network problem that would need to be solved by Ms. Hayes.

  “Let’s wrap it up,” Vlad said.

  They had the lab put away and were leaving when Lucille and her two followers showed up. She came up next to Brendan and waited as Vlad and the others shuffled out the door. Only Poser lingered.

  “We’re going to have a private conversation,” Lucille said.

  Poser considered Lucille’s two boys. “Doesn’t look private.”

  She shot him a sour look.

  “Brian, it’s okay,” Brendan said.

  “Fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds.” He went outside into the hall.

  “What have you been telling them?” Lucille asked.

  “Nothing. He’s just like that.”

  Her hard expression didn’t change.

  “Look,” he continued. “He teases everyone and he’s never serious. I’ve never spoken to him about you. I’m also sorry about earlier. You didn’t give me a chance to apologize. I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t smart or anything like that. I thought you wanted me to explain how geometry works.”

  She waved a hand, but whether it was meant to dismiss his concerns or to silence him he wasn’t sure. She handed him her tablet. It was open to the six homework problems.

  “You can help me with these, can’t you?”

  Brendan looked them over. He hadn’t done them himself, but he guessed it would take about five minutes per problem. The school had a maximum homework policy that throttled the volume of assignments that could be given to a student in any class on any given day. Thirty minutes was the norm. A couple of teachers gave none, or just a five-minute daily review that involved checking a box that the review had been read. Geometry hadn’t exceeded that limit, but it pushed it every day. No one ever mentioned it as being their favorite
class.

  Brendan considered his words. “We can figure this out together. I haven’t done mine.”

  “Or we could, you know, go to the restaurant and get something to eat while you, you know…”

  “You want me to do your homework.”

  “It asks for me to show the work. If you help me with that part, I can put in the answers at the end.”

  His phone vibrated. An incoming call. The phones were working! He took it from his pocket and saw it was his mother. He handed the tablet back to her.

  “I’m sorry Lucille, I have to take this.”

  He tried to step around one of her boys, but he blocked Brendan in. When he tried to move in the other direction, the human wall followed him. His phone kept vibrating. One of the boys snatched it from his hand.

  “Give that back!”

  When Brendan lunged for the phone, the boy pushed him aside with little effort. Brendan looked at the phone, the boy, and finally at Lucille.

  “Make him give it back. I need to take the call.”

  He had seen the look on her face before a dozen times on other kids, both boys and girls, throughout the years. She was enjoying this. He made one more vain effort in reaching for the phone, jumping for it, and hating himself for his weakness. The boy gave Brendan a decisive shove backwards.

  “Give it to him, Paul,” Lucille said.

  Paul lobbed the phone to Brendan just in time for the call to end. Poser and Vlad came back into the lab. Whatever conversation they were having cut short once they saw the scene before them.

  “What’s going on?” Poser asked.

  “Nothing.” Lucille nudged her two escorts. “We’re leaving you and your…video club. Have fun.”