The Guardians Omnibus

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  “Oh crap!” Quinn exclaimed, wincing again at the loudness of his voice.

  He threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. He paused, no longer feeling the power behind his eyes. Thank goodness.

  He grabbed his towel from behind the door then pulled open the door, doing the best he could to hide the evidence. He nearly ran into Dad, who caught him by the shoulders.

  “Hey,” Dad practically shouted, looking at Quinn’s pained face. “You okay, son?”

  Too loud, please stop talking, please…this is way too awkward.

  “I’m fine, really I just…” Please don’t start checking me over. I’m not injured. You don’t need to see…

  “Oh!” Dad said, his eyes opening wide. He let go of Quinn’s shoulders and stepped back. “Right, gotcha. Um, let me know if you want a ride.”

  “That would be great!” Quinn said, dashing past his father into the bathroom. He closed the door around him and took a deep breath. It slammed and echoed louder than it should have in his ears.

  Great, he totally knows what I was doing in there.

  ❖

  In New England, the Saturday after Labor Day weekend should be less busy than the holiday weekend, but in Portsmouth that’s never the case. From the moment Quinn clocked in at Breaking New Grounds, he didn’t stop working. Outside on the large sidewalk patio, tourists and locals enjoyed varieties of tea, coffee, and baked goods as they reveled in the unseasonably warm weather.

  Quinn finished cashing out a customer and headed to the front of the counter to serve the next customer. His eyes locked with Keegan’s.

  “Can I help you?” Cassie asked Keegan.

  Dammit. She beat me to him. Shit, no eyes, no eyes, no glowing eyes.

  As he passed behind Cassie he nodded at Keegan, who winked back at him.

  Why does he have to be so adorable all the time? No exploding things…please…

  Then Keegan placed his order with Cassie.

  “Can I help you?” Quinn asked a man in his thirties, shifting his eyes to Keegan whenever possible. The fear of super-powered happenings did little to stifle Quinn’s attraction to Keegan. Even standing in line, he was mesmerized by Keegan’s beautiful face, his stunning blue eyes, and his cute messy-styled hair that poked out from beneath a Clippers baseball cap that day.

  He took the thirty-something’s order for a large green tea with lemon to-go and brought it to the register, but he had to wait for Max to finish cashing out a frazzled mother and her adorable but hyper-excited toddler. He tried to act natural and catch Keegan’s eyes, but his crush was lost in his phone, furiously typing away while grinning from ear to ear.

  Quinn turn his back to Keegan and grabbed a large to-go cup. He dropped in the green tea bags and added hot water, glancing back at Keegan, who was still focused on his phone.

  He felt himself become aggravated with Keegan’s distraction and decided to try and talk with him once he cashed out the thirty-something. Instead, heat near his hand distracted him. He looked down at the water in the paper cup and saw it was rapidly boiling.

  What the hell?

  His hand moved quickly and he set the cup on the counter edge. The moment he let go, the water stopped boiling.

  Oh cool, I can make things hot, too! At least nothing shattered this time.

  Then, Quinn panicked.

  Oh crap! Please, don't burn down the coffee shop or scorch the floor.

  Quinn looked at the floor around him. Thankfully, it hadn’t scorched…yet.

  Just calm down. These things don't seem to happen when you're calm. Breathe.

  When he felt relaxed, he dumped the tea into the sink and tossed the cup into the trash. Then he looked at the thirty-something guy, who watched him with intense curiosity.

  “Uh, sorry,” Quinn said. “There was a…hornet in the cup…I didn’t see it earlier.”

  The man’s eyes widened and he nodded. “Thanks for catching that.”

  Quinn remade the green tea and this time the water didn't boil. When handed over the tea and returned the man’s change, he looked around for Keegan.

  Quinn’s shoulders dropped. Keegan was already heading out of the shop with his beverage.

  If you don't try to say hi to him, you'll lose your chance. Talking to him here is way better than at school.

  “I'll be right back,” Quinn called out to Matt, his manager.

  “Uh, okay?” Matt answered. “We’re really busy, make it quick.”

  In a flash, Quinn dashed to the backside of the coffee shop and jogged around some unpacked boxes to the employee and delivery entrance. For a moment, the usually busy Daniel Street was quiet. Quinn looked left and right for Keegan but didn't see him.

  He must be in the public square out front.

  Quinn turned left to run to the square but stopped, thinking his mind had played a trick on him. He turned around and looked up Daniel Street again, remembering how clearly he had seen the spider in his bedroom. An expensive red car with a throaty engine was speeding toward the stop sign at the square behind him. Between him and the car, the frazzled mother and her young son were crossing the street, except the toddler had dropped his bouncy ball and had wrenched his hand free to chase after it—directly in the path of the oblivious speed demon.

  The mother screamed and stepped forward, but when the oncoming car didn't slow down, she hesitated. People turned their heads and gasped as the horrific finality of the impending accident flashed in their minds.

  “My baby!” she cried out, deciding to try and save her son as the seconds ticked. Quinn looked —with his newfound enhanced vision—at the driver of the car and clearly saw he was distracted, either texting on his phone or tinkering with the car’s radio.

  Oh my gosh, they're both going to die…

  “No!” Quinn shouted at the last second. He closed his eyes, feeling the power surge behind them. He didn’t want anyone to see them glow blue and he didn’t want to watch the mother or her son splatter over the hood of the car.

  Bang!

  Pop!

  Screams!

  Crunch!

  Slam!

  Silence.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” a man exclaimed.

  What?

  Quinn opened his eyes, shielding them from onlookers, as the joyful sobbing of a mother and the confused crying of a startled toddler reached his ears.

  “What happened to the car?” another woman asked.

  Quinn looked at the car. Oh no.

  The entire front was smashed in like it had struck an invisible cement wall. The hood was folded like an accordion and Quinn’s enhanced vision showed him the detail of every crack in the shattered windshield. He noticed the airbags had deployed as the crumpled driver door creaked opened and a man staggered out, clutching his phone with one hand.

  “You’re a real jerk,” a woman shouted, “texting and driving like that. You could have killed that little boy.”

  Quinn leaned against the cool brick, stunned at what he had seen. He felt the blood drain from his head and he blinked his eyes to focus. Thankfully, they had powered down.

  I think I just stopped that car.

  A police cruiser turned right onto Daniel Street from Chapel Street and pulled up, its blue lights flashing. People stepped out of the local businesses to gawk. Quinn touched his head, shock dulling the powerful sense of proximity to Blake. He had stepped out of Kaffee VonSolln to gawk, but now, Quinn knew, Blake walked toward him. Quinn stepped forward and looked around the bank sign and caught Blake’s eye. His friend waved at him and started jogging toward him and Quinn took a few shaky steps but slumped to the ground, unable to stand up.

  Blake picked up his pace and approached. “Hey, Quinn, are you all right?” Blake asked, squatting near him.

  Quinn shook his head and took a deep breath. “No.” His voice wavered and his hands began shaking.

  “Hey, buddy, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Blake said, sitting down and wrapping his left arm around Quinn’s sho
ulders. “The kid didn’t get hit. I don’t know how, but…” Blake paused.

  “Wait, did you…” His mouth dropped open and his eyes opened wide.

  “I could have killed that driver,” Quinn whispered.

  “You stopped the car, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know,” Quinn said, still shaking.

  “Tell me what you did, Quinn. How did you stop it?”

  Quinn shrugged. “I saw him texting or something; he wasn’t looking at the road. I just closed my eyes because I didn’t want to see the kid get hit and shouted ‘No.’ Then I heard the car slam into…thin air.”

  “You saved that kid’s life, and probably his mother’s, as well.”

  “But I almost killed that driver. I don’t want this…thing any more. I want it gone. It’s too much. I made water boil in my hands earlier when Keegan came into the shop and now I almost killed someone. I want a normal junior year and I want to go to UNH in two years…but this thing…I can’t, I just can’t.”

  “Hey, slow down, buddy. One day at a time."

  “You don’t get it,” Quinn said. “Things aren’t happening as fast for you. When I least expect it something unexpected happens. Today my hearing and vision are like, on overdrive, and I almost burned the damn coffee shop down and I stopped a speeding car with my mind. I can’t do this!”

  Quinn buried his head in his hands and broke down. Blake pulled him in, allowing Quinn to lean into his chest and weep for several minutes.

  “So, you saw Keegan today, huh?” Blake said. Quinn noted the soft tone in his voice; he was trying to distract him from the crisis.

  Quinn chuckled and sniffled. “Yeah, he’s the entire reason I was out here. I tried to serve him but Cassie beat me to it. I figured I’d run out and try to say hi, but this happened. That mother and her kid were in the shop a few minutes ago.”

  “If you hadn’t tried to catch up with Keegan, that kid wouldn’t be alive right now and his mother would be on her way to the hospital and the news reports would be horrible.”

  “But I…”

  “It doesn’t matter what you almost did. The driver is walking after you did whatever you did. That’s the most important part. As for his wrecked car, he deserved that for doing something as stupid as texting and driving.”

  “I guess so.”

  “I know so.”

  “All right, all right. Shit, I gotta get back inside. Matt’s gonna kill me.”

  “Sure, but first, I wish someone had a camera.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Think about it. This is an ironic, picturesque moment.” Quinn said. “A VonSolln guy is consoling a BNG guy.”

  Quinn rolled his eyes and laughed as the boys stood up.

  “You okay?” Blake asked, looking into his eyes.

  “Yeah,” Quinn said, returning the tender gaze. “Thanks.”

  Blake winked at him. “Talk to you later.”

  “For sure.”

  ❖

  Quinn hung his bike in the garage on the wall hooks and tapped the white garage door button on his way into the house. The garage door rumbled shut behind him as he made his way into the house, the sound fading when the inside door shut. He kicked off his coffee-stained work shoes and set them on the mud mat before making his way down the hall to the kitchen.

  “Hey,” Dad said, washing dishes at the counter. He shot Quinn a quick glance. “Dinner’s almost ready. We’re grilling veggies and steak tips tonight. Well, Daddio is, not me. My job, of course, is cleaning the dishes and making sure the jasmine rice simmers nicely without boiling over.

  Quinn chuckled. “Sounds good, I’m starved.” The last time Dad tried to grill steak tips, he burnt them and the trio ordered pizza instead.

  “Hey, kiddo,” Daddio said, walking in from the outside where the deck and barbecue grill were kept. He walked over to Quinn and hugged him, gently kissing him on the head. “You stink like coffee,” he teased.

  “Yeah, I need a quick shower. Do I have time?”

  Daddio checked his watch. “You have nineteen minutes. The tips just went on the grill.”

  “Oh hey,” Dad said, gesturing like he was remembering something. “There was an accident on Daniel Street today. Did you see it at all?”

  “Yeah,” Quinn said, unable to hide his sorrow at the event. He froze in place and swallowed hard. What do I say?

  “You okay?” Dad asked, stepping away from the sink. Daddio put his arm around Quinn’s shoulders.

  “I was standing outside when it happened…I almost saw toddler get creamed by an asshole in a sports car who wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Daddio said, squeezing Quinn’s shoulders. “That’s horrible!”

  “Oh, Quinn,” Dad said, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “Almost see it,” Quinn said, correcting his father.

  “The news said the car was smashed and no one was hurt, except for some airbag burns and bruises for the driver.”

  Quinn nodded.

  “How did the car get smashed up?”

  How am I going to explain my way out of this one? Oh, I know!

  “Well,” Quinn said, looking at the floor. “My timing was a bit off. I wasn’t outside when it happened, I was in the stock room unpacking a shipment. When I heard a car hit something, I poked my head out the side door to see what was going on. That’s when I saw a woman who had just been at the register grabbing her kid from the street. I don’t know what the car hit, but it was pretty smashed up. The driver got out and was walking around, so I guess that’s good.”

  “Absolutely. It’s great no one got hurt today,” Dad said.

  “Still, that little kid was probably three years old. Maybe four. He almost died.”

  “But he didn’t, and neither did the driver, right?” Daddio asked.

  Quinn shrugged. “I know you’re right, it’s still shocking to me, that’s all.”

  Daddio’s watch beeped, startling them all. “Sorry to ruin the moment, but I gotta go rotate the steak tips.”

  Quinn chuckled. “Please do, the last thing we want is burnt steak, right?” he asked, gently teasing his other father.

  Dad rolled his eyes and smiled. “Sure, pick on the guy who can barely boil water. I get it.”

  “Love ya, kiddo,” Daddio said, giving him another kiss. “Now go shower and rinse the super-stink of work off you. You got less than fifteen minutes, okay?”

  “And Quinn?” Daddio said, heading toward the door.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for talking with us.”

  Quinn smiled. “Sure thing.”

  Then he headed upstairs to shower.

  ❖

  Quinn flipped through an old Superman comic book and tried to focus on the words, but they remained elusive to his distracted mind.

  Am I ever going to understand how this thing works? What happens when I have a choice to use my powers for good and I don’t because I’m afraid? Will that make me a bad person?

  “Hey Quinn?” Daddio called out, standing in the hallway on the other side of his cracked-open bedroom door.

  Surprised, Quinn jumped halfway across the bed.

  “Oh, hey, sorry son, didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Something odd caught his eye in the dresser mirror. Rather, something didn’t catch his eye—his reflection. Oh crap, am I invisible?

  “Are you okay?”

  The door started to push open and Quinn rolled off the bed and onto the floor on the far side of the bed, opposite the bedroom door. He pulled off his tank top as fast as he could and started to do push-ups.

  Oh shit, come on, go back to normal!

  “Yup,” he called out, exaggerating his labor. The door creaked open more. “Am I bothering you?”

  “Nope,” he exclaimed.

  “Where are you? What are you doing?”

  Please, please go back to normal.

  Quinn popped up and ran a hand through is hair. Daddio locked eyes wit
h him and smiled. “You’re working out?”

  “Yeah, just had some frustrations to burn so I’m doing some push-ups.” I guess I’m not invisible any more.

  “Ah.”

  “We’re gonna grab some ice cream downtown, did you want to come with?”

  “Yeah,” he said, reaching for his tank top.

  Daddio sat down on the edge of his bed.

  Uh oh.

  “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah, why?” Quinn said, pulling on his shirt and standing up.

  Daddio’s brow wrinkled. “You’re just…off tonight. That accident today, almost seeing a child die…”

  “Yeah, it’s messed me up a little.”

  “Okay, fair enough. You know you can talk to us about that, right?”

  “Of course, Daddio,” Quinn said, running a hand through his hair again.

  “Or anything else you want to talk about. We love you for who you are, no matter what.”

  “Yeah,” Quinn said, his face scrunching with confusion.

  “Like anything else, Quinn,” Daddio repeated.

  “Did you have something in mind?”

  “Yeah. Dad told me about this morning. You know we don’t care about that, right?”

  Quinn’s eyes bulged open. “Oh, right. That. Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

  “Okay then.” Daddio pushed himself up from the bed. “Well, shall we? Ice cream awaits.”

  “Annabelle’s or Izzy’s?” Quinn asked, following his father out the door.

  “Tough call,” Daddio chuckled. “Thumb wrestle you for it?”

  “Sure thing. But Dad has to judge it because you cheat,” Quinn teased.

  Daddio clutched his chest and dropped his mouth open with surprise. “I do not!”

  “Uh-huh, whatever, Daddio,” Quinn said. The two laughed as they made their way downstairs to get Dad from the living room and head out for ice cream.

  1-11 | No Thank You

  Blake

  THE EARLY MORNING COFFEE SHIFT never appealed to Blake, especially on weekends when all he wanted to do was sleep in till ten o’clock or later. He couldn’t understand how or why people got up so early on weekends, except the retired folk. They tended to get up early no matter what, along with a bunch of folks who were crazy enough to run or exercise at one of the local gyms first thing in the morning—and most of them needed their coffee fix.