“Um, no. Accounting degrees don’t require physics classes. I never even set foot in the physics building.”
“That’s a shame, because this would be a lot easier to explain if you had. Mr. Wonder’s power is all about energy. The cape acts kind of like a sponge for it. Then, whoever is wearing it becomes a battery, storing that energy. But the cool part is that once the energy is stored, it can be released.”
Chuck was silent for a moment. “You think the cape sucked in electricity from the house, I stored it, and then I shot out lightning?”
“Bingo. But it didn’t have to be electricity. It could have been heat. Or light. Hell, for all I know, it could be nuclear.”
Chuck laughed. “You’re saying the cape could absorb a nuke?”
“No idea, Chuck. I’m sure the thing has limits. And I don’t know what they are. But in theory it could.”
“Hang on a second,” Chuck said. Albie heard the muffled sound of Chuck setting the phone down, then nothing for a few seconds. “Ok, I’m back,” he said. “So, if what you’re telling me is true, this cape is incredibly dangerous, right?”
“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” Albie said. “Or, it’s an incredible opportunity. That old man gave you a reward more valuable than you can even imagine.”
“I’ve gotta get rid of it,” Chuck said, sounding like his mind was made up. “I’ll track down the old man in the morning, and give the thing back.”
“You can try,” Albie said. “Don’t think it will work though. I don’t know where the cape got its powers, or how it works. But I do know how Mr. Wonder got it, at least in the comic. It was passed down to him. Mr. Wonder is a title, given to whoever has the cape. The previous Mr. Wonder gave it to the one in the comic. Once the new one put the cape on, it was bonded to him. If anyone else put it on, it would just be a cape. No powers. It only works for the one chosen to wear it.”
“The old man chose me? That was his reward? Well, I’ll just find him and have him un-choose me. Or I’ll choose him back.”
“That might work, but not if the comic is true to life,” Albie said carefully. “In the comic, wearing the cape created a bond, like I said. And the longer you wear it, the stronger that bond becomes. Taking it off becomes painful. In the comic, when the old Mr. Wonder handed down the cape to the guy he chose, it was a big deal. Like an addict going cold turkey. And, at least in that case, he didn’t make it.”
“Wait, what do you mean ‘he didn’t make it’?”
“He died, Chuck. Which means, if the comic is close to reality, there’s a good chance your old man ain’t gonna be found. You can search for him if you want. And maybe you’ll find him. But even if you do, I don’t think he’ll take it back. Whether you like it or not, Chuck, I think you should start coming to terms with the fact that you are Mr. Wonder.”
Chapter Nine
“I am Mr. Wonder?” Chuck said, not realizing he was speaking out loud. “I am Mr. Wonder? I am Mr. Wonder. How could that be? It’s crazy on so many levels. Super heroes aren’t real. And if they were, there’s no way I could be one. They have cool origin stories like being from alien planets or being bitten by a spider. I slugged a petty crook with a beer bottle.”
He paced across the kitchen floor, desperately wishing he hadn’t given up smoking so many years ago. If there was ever a time for a cigarette, it was now. “Another reason I can’t be Mr. Wonder? I’m an accountant. Pretty sure there’s never been an accountant super hero. Their secret identities are reporters or lawyers or billionaire playboys. Not fucking accountants. Plus, I’m too old to be a hero. They all get started young. When they have energy. And no family. No, this can’t be happening. Doesn’t make sense.”
Having convinced himself that he couldn’t be Mr. Wonder, he strolled over to the cabinet and grabbed a glass. He headed to the liquor cabinet, grabbed a bottle of vodka, and poured himself a tall glass. He tipped the glass and finished it in one long drink.
“Chuck? You in there, Chuck? Yoo-hoo, Chuck. You ok, Sparky?”
Chuck could hear the words. And could almost make sense of them. But he wasn’t coherent enough to figure out who was saying them. He opened his eyes.
Mistake, he thought, closing them as quickly as he could. How can a room spin that fast?
“What on earth did you drink, Chuck?”
There was that voice again. He knew it. Just couldn’t place it. Maybe if he opened and closed his eyes really fast he could avoid the spinning.
Nope, he thought, fighting back a wave of nausea. His eyes weren’t as fast as the spinning. At least in the fraction of a second he’d had them open, he’d realized it was Penny talking to him. Wonderful, patient Penny. He was so lucky to have her. Lucky to have a woman who was strong when she needed to be, yet soft when she let her guard down. Who could snap from razor sharp sarcasm to steely determination faster than Chuck could drain a glass of vodka.
Shit, did I drink a whole glass of vodka?
“Vokka,” he said, the word losing its enunciation on the sandpaper coating his mouth.
“Ok, tough guy. Let’s get you to the bathroom,” Penny said.
Dear, sweet Penny. How would she take the news that he was a super hero? Would she be excited? Worried? Mad? His money was on worried. She put up a tough front, but Chuck knew her well enough to know that she’d be lost without him.
Chuck felt himself being lifted under his arms. Am I on the floor? he asked himself. She doesn’t need to help me. I’m a goddamn super hero.
The thick syrup coating his thoughts disappeared, replaced with perfect clarity. His eyes snapped open.
“Fuck me!” he shouted.
A loud thunk and a flash of light across his brain broke his clarity. Pain shot through his head.
“Fuuuuuck.”
“Sorry, you startled me,” Penny said, defensively. “You ok?”
Chuck sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, but I’ve got something to tell you. I talked to Albie. Pretty sure I’m—“
His sentence was cut off by a horrible retching sound.
Penny squealed. “Dammit, Chuck. I was trying to get you to the bathroom before that happened.”
“I’m a super hero,” Chuck said weakly, before passing out in a puddle of vodka-scented vomit.
The first thing Chuck noticed when he woke up was how cold it was. “Pen? Penny?” he said, struggling to find his voice. “Is the AC cranked down?”
While he waited for a response he noticed a few other things. Like the fact that his head felt like Gene Simmons was tap dancing inside it. And that the contents of his stomach were threatening to secede.
“Haven’t touched it,” Penny yelled from some other part of the house. “There’s a glass of water and some ibuprofen on your night stand.”
Chuck slowly opened his eyes and turned his head toward the night stand. The motion sent him spinning. Closing his eyes, he groped for the pills. Finding them, he popped them in his mouth. He grabbed for the water, only to send it flying.
“Shit,” he said. “Penny? I spilled.”
She hurried into the room. “Dammit Chuck, I figured that having the kids away for the weekend would mean I’d have a lot less puke and spills to clean up.”
“Sorry. What happened last night? I feel like someone forced a gallon of cheap booze down my throat, then punched me in the gut over and over.”
Penny blotted the spill with towels from the bathroom. “Nobody forced you to do anything. When I came into the kitchen you had already drank who knows how much, and were lying on the floor. I may have kicked you in the stomach after you puked. But not hard.”
Chuck threw his arm over his eyes, fighting back a wave of nausea. “If I already puked, why do I feel this bad?”
“You’re not 21 anymore Chuck. What inspired you to drink like that? Something the comic book guy said?”
The previous night’s conversation came rushing back to Chuck as the words came out of her mouth. Right, he thought, Albie. The
cape. Lightning bolts. Mr. Wonder.
He snapped upright. “I’m Mr. Wonder!”
It took Penny almost a full minute to stop laughing. “The guy in the comic?” Her face showed the smile she used every time she reminded Chuck that he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. “That fits with the last thing you said before you passed out. ‘I’m a super hero’, you said, right before you went face down in a puddle of your own puke. Great start to your super hero career. I’ll make a note for your biography.” Her smile faded. “You’re still drunk, right? You don’t really think you’re a super hero.”
“I don’t think that,” Chuck said, struggling to regain his composure. “At least, I don’t think I think it. Albie thinks it. Because it fits what happened with the TV. And the power outage. But it’s crazy, right?”
Penny looked at him stoically. “What did he say?”
He paused a second, trying to remember the conversation. “A lot of stuff. Most of it nonsense. But the part that got me is that, in the comics, Mr. Wonder’s cape sucks up energy, and Mr. Wonder shoots it out. Like, the cape could suck the power out of the house, blowing the breakers, and I could shoot it out at the TV. It fits.”
“There’s probably another explanation for that,” she said, face deep in thought. “And we’ll think of it. I’m not quite ready to believe the chain of weirdness that ends with you being a super hero just yet.”
“Me either, Penny,” Chuck said, an edge of desperation in his voice. “But I need something else to believe. Otherwise I’m going to obsess over this. And it’s going to drive me nuts.”
“Let’s stick with power surge then. Faulty wiring. I’ll call an electrician in the morning. Now, I’m going to make the most of our last day of freedom from the kids. Going to the mall in a bit, get some shopping in, lunch, maybe a pedicure. Care to join me?”
Chuck thought for a second. It probably was a good idea to get an electrician to look at the wiring. And, to be honest, bad wiring was way more likely than the cape having magic powers. He could probably hold off paranoia for a couple of days. The mall would probably help take his mind off of it even more.
“Consider it a date.”
“I don’t understand why you keep wearing the cape,” Penny said, as she pulled into the mall’s garage. “You don’t believe it has powers, so is it actually a fashion choice?”
“I’m a complicated man, Penny,” Chuck said. “And I thought nobody understood me but my woman. But I guess nobody understands me after all.” He tried a mock pout, but couldn’t keep a straight face.
“Congratulations. Most days it’s well into the afternoon before I wonder why I married you. But you got it before lunch today.” She flashed a cheesy smile and gave him a thumbs-up. “Super work, Chuck!”
The mall was busy, but not unbearably so. They looked at some clothes for the kids, grabbed some Thai noodles from the food court, and generally felt and acted like a couple who didn’t have any concern about whether one of them had mysterious super powers. After lunch, they decided to split up. Penny wanted to get a pedicure, and Chuck wanted to check out the latest robotic assistants at the METIS store.
“Have fun with your dorky gizmos and gadgets,” Penny said, kissing him goodbye. “Remember that we can’t afford any of them, ok?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be good,” he said. “Have fun wondering what the ladies at the nail salon are saying about you in their native tongue.”
He turned and headed toward the opposite side of the mall. It felt good to get out. Spending quality time alone with Penny helped take his mind off the weekend’s craziness. And being around so many people going about their normal lives made him feel a little more normal himself.
He ambled past the window displays of the clothes he didn’t understand, cases of jewelry he could never afford, and shifty men hawking scarves at kiosks. His pace quickened as the wicked mélange of odors drifted out of the candle store. He enjoyed the normalcy and lost himself wondering who the people looking at all of these things were.
“Shoplifter!” The shout came from a young woman running out of a toy store. “Stop him!”
Chuck looked straight ahead, seeing the man she was yelling about. He had a black hoodie pulled up over his head, those skinny jeans Chuck would never understand, and what appeared to be Doc Martins. Not the best running shoes, Chuck thought, I wonder if I could catch him.
Chuck started running, as fast as he could, following Skinny Jeans through the somewhat startled crowd. “Hey, stop!” he shouted, not slowing down.
Skinny Jeans turned suddenly, darting into a department stores. Chuck followed, and stopped for a second to figure out which way he went. The store branched out in several directions, providing good cover to someone trying to evade a pursuer. He slowly turned his head to each possible path looking for clues of which direction Skinny Jeans went, and didn’t see any.
Probably for the best, he thought. I need to quit doing this stuff. First the convenience store, now this. I’m going to get myself—
A scream from one of the store’s pathways jolted him out of his thoughts. He sprinted toward it without hesitation, knowing that was the direction the crook went. He passed an elderly woman lying on the ground, surrounded by concerned shoppers, and figured she was the source of the scream. What kind of creep knocks over an old lady as part of his getaway? The same kind that likes his nuts squeezed and calves constricted by cheap denim.
He realized this pathway led to a different mall entrance for the store, and as he burst out into the mall again, he realized he’d lost his prey for a second time. “Shit,” he said, panting. “This guy is really starting to piss—“
“Hey, watch it buddy!” This shout came from his left. He sprang into action, resuming his chase. He thought it strange that he was chasing this creep while mall security was nowhere to be found. Putting the thought out of his mind, he focused on catching Skinny Jeans.
He spotted the shoplifter plowing through a gaggle of teenagers, with limited success. Skinny Jeans had made the mistake of running into one of the girls first. Her boyfriend, a pile of muscle in a football letter jacket, didn’t appreciate it, and grabbed him to explain why. Or to beat the shit out of him. Chuck’s money was on the latter.
Chuck watched as Skinny Jeans stomped on Chivalrous Jock’s foot, distracting him just long enough to escape, and took off like a gazelle fleeing a ravenous lion. Chivalrous Jock started to pursue him, but his girlfriend grabbed his arm. “Let that douche canoe go,” she said. Chuck realized he needed to get up to speed with modern teen slang before his kids started using it.
The incident with Chivalrous Jock had let Chuck gain serious ground. He was less that 50 feet from the creep now, well within shouting distance. “Hey, jackass, stop before I have to stop you!” Damn, if I really am a super hero, I’m going to have to work on my banter, he thought.
Skinny Jeans didn’t slow to look behind him for the source of the shout. Instead he picked up his pace to put more distance between them. At this rate, Chuck wasn’t going to catch him. Yet another reason I should have used that gym membership, he thought. He slowed down, his pulse pounding in his ears and his chest heaving. If he couldn’t catch the guy on foot, maybe there was another way…
Chuck stretched out his hand, palm facing the ground, fingers outstretched, and took aim. He focused all his attention on Skinny Jeans’ diminishing form. Taking a deep breath, he imagined a bolt of sizzling white electricity shooting from his hand to Skinny Jeans’ back. He was totally unprepared for the fireball that flew out of his hand, straight through the front window of the METIS store.
Chapter Ten
“Why don’t we start from the beginning?” The mall security officer rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was tall, slightly overweight. Been at the job a while, Chuck figured, based on the level of jaded cynicism he had already showed during their brief conversation.
“Sure,” Chuck said, still shaking slightly from the whole experience. “My wife and
I split up, and I was headed toward the METIS store. I heard a woman yell ‘shoplifter’, and I started chasing the guy. When it became clear I wasn’t going to catch him, I threw my keys at him, hoping to slow him down. I missed. Window broke. You showed up. That’s about it.”
“And the cape?” Officer Jaded’s face wore a mix of indifference and impatient. “What made you decide to wear a superhero cape to a mall, then go chasing criminals?”
“I got the cape as a gift, and I like the way it looks.” Chuck tried not to sound too defensive. “Is it a crime to wear a cape in public?”
“No, but it makes you look nuts. I’m not sure whether to call the cops so they can charge you with destruction of property, or call the looney bin to come pick you up.”
Chuck was starting to get annoyed. “They give mall cops the authority to commit people now? Someone asks for extra salt on their pretzel, and next thing they know, it’s straight jacket and shock therapy?”
Officer Jaded stared at him without a hint of amusement. “You want the cops then?”
“That’ll be great,” Chuck said, starting to get really worked up. “Then I can tell them how your fat ass was munching on a food court corn dog while I was doing your job. And how you’ve kept me falsely imprisoned in your rent-a-cop broom closet? Maybe you can explain to them why you’re keeping me in here while a criminal roams your mall. Sounds like a great idea. As a matter of fact, if I get a phone call from this place, I might just use it to call them myself.”
There was a soft knock on the door. Officer Jaded groaned as he stood up to get it. He opened it a crack, listened for a moment, and closed it. “Do you want to give them a ring? Or do you just want to go home?”
Chuck beamed with pride. “You’re letting me go? My little speech scared you that much, huh? You know, I took you for someone a little harder to break. I’m a little disappointed you cracked so easily. It’s a good thing, though. I wouldn’t want you to throw your career away over something silly like this. It’s not—“
A Dad in a Cape (Mr Wonder Book 1) Page 6