The Subatomic Kid

by George Earl Parker

  “No!” he declared. “An accidental superhero, maybe.”

  He was just a normal kid from a normal neighborhood who got caught in a scientific experiment that altered his atomic structure. It would be foolish to believe that, just because he had been charged by entities from another dimension with saving not one world but two, that he was even anywhere near superhero status. Besides, the first rule of being a superhero was to never reveal your secret identity under any circumstances, and he had already blown that one. It seemed like a whole bunch of people knew about his peculiar talent way before he did.

  No, everything he had done so far was because it just happened to him and he reacted to it, and that didn’t feel like it was going to change really soon either. He had to face up to it; he was a freak of nature, and the sooner this whole episode was over, the better. Then he could get back to being a kid again. The four of them shuffled on through the pitch-blackness like a slow motion conga chain, and if they could be seen, they would have been mistaken for a short human caterpillar waving its feelers around.

  Kate wasn’t sure John was an accidental superhero, because he was showing concern and focusing on them, which was a huge weight to be placed on the shoulders of such a young person. The three of them were actually a burden to him. They were slowing him down, and to his credit he was taking the time to rescue them.

  Tex was amazed; he had actually seen John disappear with his own eyes, which meant that all of the wacky things he had been saying were true. If he were anybody else he would have felt embarrassed, but he was incapable of embarrassment. Maybe it was due to all the rigorous physical training he had done or perhaps it was one too many incomplete passes. Somewhere along the line his heart had turned to stone, and he told himself he liked it that way.

  Cal was impressed with John; after all, both he and Tex had been kind of tough on him and he didn’t seem to hold it against them. It was a testament to John’s character that he could be so selfless, and as far as Cal was concerned, it was that talent alone that made someone a hero. Yeah, he thought, if being a superhero is having that quality and some otherworldly power, John fits the bill right down to the ground.

  “What is that?” shouted Tex.

  “What!” asked John.

  “What!” Cal questioned.

  “What!” Kate echoed.

  They were all jumpy, and although Tex couldn’t see it, they were all looking in different directions and imagining the worst.

  “That, over there,” said Tex, pointing a finger in the dark that nobody could see, least of all himself.

  “Are you crazy?” asked Cal. “Where is there?”

  “Okay, stop,” John ordered, and everybody came to a halt.

  “Right there,” Tex said. “Directly in front of us and up a bit.”

  “What is it?” asked Kate, as they all stared off into the distance, not at all sure what to look for.

  “Light!” said Cal. “I see it.”

  It wasn’t really very light, it just wasn’t as dark as everything else, but it had a familiar shape.

  “I got it,” Kate declared.

  “Yeah, it’s a door,” John shouted.

  They all stood in awe and stared—who knew a door could be such a beautiful sight? But at that moment in time it was as glorious as the great pyramids and more inspiring than standing in front of a painting by Van Gogh. It represented their freedom.

  “Okay,” said John, “assume the position,” and they each latched onto the person in front and shuffled as fast as they could through the remaining darkness until they crashed into the first of a flight of steps.

  “Unngh!” John howled, as his shin struck the sharp edge and he fell like a stone to the floor, bringing Kate, Cal, and Tex tumbling down on top of him in a cloud of dust.

  “Oooff!”

  “Aarjj.”

  “Urrkk.”

  A peculiar chorus of sound, masquerading as language, rang through the darkness as the kids used each other as cushions. “Get off me!” yelled John, as Tex, Cal, and Kate stood up, brushing the dust from their faces and hands.

  “What idiot put that step there?” Cal exclaimed.

  “The idiot who wanted to get out of the door,” Tex replied sarcastically. “It’s six feet off the ground.”

  “Well, who puts a door six feet off the ground?” asked Kate, indignantly.

  “What am I, a friggin’ psychic?!” Tex inquired irately.

  “Obviously not,” Cal said calmly. “Otherwise you’d have known about the step.”

  “Cut it with the smart mouth, monkey breath,” Tex warned.

  “Or what?” Cal challenged.

  “You’d find out if I could see you,” Tex threatened.

  “Oh yeah!” Cal taunted.

  “Yeah!” Tex spat.

  “I swear, you two could argue with a lamppost,” Kate observed impatiently.

  “You just don’t understand guys,” Cal told her.

  “Yeah, this is what we do,” Tex pronounced.

  “But every conversation ends with one of you wanting to punch the other’s lights out,” she scolded.

  “So?” Tex exclaimed.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Cal questioned calmly.

  She sighed. It was worse than she thought; they were oblivious to any other form of communication. Was it a jock thing, she wondered? Or were they just total and complete morons? They made her feel like the mother of two naughty, kids.

  John had listened to the exchange as the pain in his leg subsided. It was no wonder everyone’s nerves were frayed. Under the circumstances they were holding up remarkably well, and if this was the way they vented their frustration, it was okay.

  “I think it’s time we got out of here,” John suggested as he stood up and began climbing the steps to the door.

  Tex, Cal, and Kate had been so involved with their bickering they had forgotten the objective. Of course they had to get out of there. Why were they standing in the darkness arguing with one another? It was stupid, and in the course of events they had completely forgotten about John falling.

  “How is your leg?” Kate asked sympathetically. “That was a nasty bump.”

  “Yeah, I hate it when you hit your shin on something,” Cal said. “It’s the worst pain; that and your funny bone.”

  “Why do they call it a funny bone anyway?” Tex wondered aloud. “It’s not so funny when you hit it; it hurts like crazy.”

  “My leg’s fine,” John lied. The truth was it was still throbbing, and it probably would for a while, but he wasn’t about to let them know.

  John felt around for a door handle as Kate, Cal, and Tex climbed the stairs behind him.

  “What do you think is on the other side of the door?” John whispered.

  “Who knows and who cares?” Kate replied matter-of-factly. “Anything’s preferable to this.”

  John gripped the door handle and slowly began to turn it.

  “Open the door a little and peek through,” Cal whispered.

  “Naw, rip it open and let’s get out of here,” Tex ordered.

  John pulled at the door, and as it opened light flooded through the crack. He stood for a moment squinting through it, trying to adjust his eyes.

  “What is it?” Tex asked.

  “What do you see?” Cal inquired.

  “Are we free?” Kate hoped.

  They could all see John’s face plainly now; he was bathed in the light spilling through the crack in the door. He turned back to them. “It’s another basement,” he said, pulling the door open wide and stepping through. Kate, Cal, and Tex climbed the remaining stairs and filed through the opening to join John on the other side. Then Tex closed that door behind him much as one closes a chapter on one’s life; it was a chapter he never wished to read again.

  They surveyed their new, well-lit surroundings. It was a basement all right, and it was huge. It was stacked from floor to ceiling with junk, and there were corridors through the junk, which led in all so
rts of different directions.

  They looked at one another and smiled. Then the smiles turned to laughter, and it wasn’t long before they were howling and beating their sides.

  Each of them were covered from head to toe in grime; their clothes, their faces, their hair—everything was gray. They looked like a teenage commando unit that had just returned from a stealth operation.

  Even when the laughter had diminished to a giggle, one of them only had to catch sight of another for a second, and it would send them and the whole group back into euphoric convulsions. They laughed so much it hurt, but it released their tension, and above all they created a memory, a memory that would be etched in their minds forever; a common bond only the four of them would share, of the day they took a canvas of fear and painted over it with a palette of laughter.

  With tears in his eyes, John said, “We have to get going and find a way through this maze.”

  “I know,” Cal answered, “but I’m in too much pain to move.”

  “We must be adult about this,” joked Tex, through a smile so wide it was infectious.

  “Don’t you dare,” said Kate, “don’t start again, I can’t take it.”

  “It wouldn’t look good if we laughed ourselves to death while we were trying to escape, would it?” asked Tex, struggling to keep his voice serious.

  He’d touched a nerve. In seconds they were all down on the floor beating their fists on the ground, with laughter erupting from the very depths of their souls. It wasn’t the funniest thing anyone had ever said; it didn’t have to be. In its essence, the statement had that strange Haiku quality of capturing a moment—a painting in words that hit all the senses at the same time with a massive barrage of emotion.

  John rolled over and got up. “I’ve got to get away from you guys, you’re killing me.” He began to walk off along one of the corridors.

  “We can’t let him go alone,” said Kate, as she climbed up from the floor and followed him.

  “All right, all right,” said Cal, “playtime’s over.” He jumped up, extended a hand to Tex, and pulled him up.

  “I promise not to say anything else,” Tex told him.

  “Sure,” said Cal, “that’s gonna happen,” and the two of them followed John and Kate along the corridor of junk.

  ***

  Down in the bowels of the Global Elixirs underground garage, Miss Moon helped Doctor Angstrom climb into the back of a specially prepared limousine. The windows were so darkly tinted they allowed no light to penetrate; it was a traveling cocoon of darkness, and it was the only vehicle Doctor Angstrom would ride in.

  Angstrom had concluded that the most important move in the chess game of life was surprise, and surprise was a package that had to come sooner rather than later. Doctor Aaron Leitz was one of those rare individuals whose greatest asset was his biggest failing. His mind was a hornet’s nest of schemes and intrigue. It was a one-way street to trouble, and Kurt Angstrom did not care to travel that road on this trip.

  Miss Moon circled the vehicle and climbed in the front. She had a singular purpose—to get to the school as soon as possible. In the back Kurt Angstrom had two small TV monitors; one of them showed the road ahead, the other showed the driver.

  “Miss Moon,” he asked, addressing the monitor. “Where is Mr. Hunter?”

  “I’m not sure, sir,” she replied. “I’ll call him.”

  “Yes, please do,” Angstrom requested, “and make sure that he’s at the school until we arrive.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied, picking up the telephone.

  Doctor Angstrom leaned back in the seat; this boy represented the most important development in his life. His future and the boys were indelibly intermingled, and he had to protect that relationship at all costs.

  ***

  The four kids marched shoulder to shoulder with purpose along the corridor; they were out of the dark and into the light. There was a new spring in their step, and they were hopeful the next door they found would be a door to freedom. Together they had conquered insurmountable odds; nothing could stop them now. They had one aim in mind—get out, go home, and forget about this whole crazy episode. A few moments later a door appeared at the end of the corridor; above it hung a sign marked EXIT in bold red letters.

  “Well, let’s see where we are,” John suggested.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Tex protested. “I believe I’ll take it from here.”

  Cal and Kate glanced quizzically at one another as John shrugged his shoulders. “Be my guest,” he said, “go ahead.”

  Tex smiled confidently and walked up the short flight of steps that led to the door. He grasped the handle firmly, twisted it, pulled the door open and stuck his head through the crack. John folded his arms and watched, Cal gazed at the floor, and Kate paced back and forth behind them. After a very long pause, Tex pulled his head back, closed the door, and rejoined them.

  “So?” John asked.

  “What is it?” Cal queried.

  Tex seemed agitated; he bit his lip and drummed his fingers on the legs of his pants.

  “Say something…anything!” Kate urged.

  He stared at the ceiling and ran his hand over his mouth; then he stroked his chin and sighed. “It’s that silver UFO you told us about.”

  “What!” Kate cried.

  “Oh no!” Cal moaned.

  “It can’t be!” John scowled. He ran up the steps, ripped the door open and stepped inside. It was the same; all shiny steel and strangely shaped machinery—the only thing missing was the hideous noise, and the blinding light. Kate joined him at the door; Cal and Tex followed behind her. They couldn’t believe it; every door they opened led them deeper into the heart of a mystery.

  “So, where are we now?” Kate wondered aloud.

  “We must be in the school,” John answered.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this in the school,” Tex said.

  “It can’t be the school,” Cal whined. “I don’t believe it.”

  “You should listen to him,” said a voice from somewhere in the room. “He knows what he’s talking about.”

  They all looked in the direction of the voice and saw Doctor Leitz step out from behind a piece of peculiar machinery, training a pistol on them. As one they turned back to the doorway to escape, and as they moved, Leitz fired a warning shot above their heads.

  “Get back here, you sniveling wretches,” he ordered.

  The kids stopped dead and turned back to face him, their heads bowed low in shame. They couldn’t believe they had been stupid enough to fall into a trap.

  “Thank you so much for coming—I’ve been awaiting your arrival with anticipation,” Leitz said ironically as he crossed the room in his silver suit and grinned like an idiot. He stopped in front of them and glanced from one to another. “Why so sad?” he asked. “Cat got your tongues?” He giggled crazily, which prompted the kids to glance at each other with a frown. He stepped in front of John and stared down at him. “You should thank me for what I’ve done for you, John Smith.”

  John looked up at him. “Yeah, thanks,” he said sarcastically.

  “Ah, that’s nice,” Leitz warbled in a weird tone of voice. “One hears so many stories about how ungrateful the youth of today are. But you’re different, you’re like the son I never had.”

  “Look,” said John, “these guys have no part in this, it’s me you want. So why don’t we just let them go home to their families?”

  “So thoughtful!” Leitz said smiling. “I can’t believe you would sacrifice yourself for your friends. My, my, my. I am so proud of you.”

  John’s brave attempt to free his friends bolstered their spirits momentarily, but Leitz’ sarcasm deflated their hopes.

  “Is it a deal then?” John asked.

  Leitz feigned deliberation silently before he spoke. “Of course not. I need to run my experiment again, and I’m going to use them as guinea pigs.” He spat the words out like they were offensive to his tongue.


  “You can’t do that!” John protested.

  “Who are you to tell me what I can or can’t do?” Leitz asked pointedly. “I am the greatest physicist in the world, and you are just one of my failed experiments. Now get over there.”

  He stood back and waved his pistol in the direction of the wall with the grid painted on it. “Move!” he emphasized. He watched like a hawk as the four of them moved as slowly as they could.

  “Why don’t you do something?” Kate whispered.

  “I can’t,” John replied.

  “What do you mean, you can’t?” whispered Tex.

  “I mean I don’t feel like it,” John sighed.

  “What do you mean, you don’t feel like it?” Cal whispered worriedly. “Don’t you care?”

  “I do care,” John said. “I just don’t have the feeling.”

  “Shut up and move,” shouted Doctor Leitz.

  John knew his friends couldn’t understand what he was saying. He knew because he was only on the threshold of beginning to understand it himself. In order for change to happen, a situation had to reach its apex; it had to go as far as it could before it was in a position to become something else.