The Outlaw: No Heroes

by Alan Janney

  I laughed really hard at her enthusiasm and yelled over the song, “I’m sore but I’ll be okay. I had no idea you were such a good dancer.”

  “Thanks!”

  “When did you learn?”

  “Never! I’ve always been okay at it,” she smiled. “You just never took me some place where we could dance.”

  “I should have! You’re really good.”

  “Let’s dance now!” she said, and she drew me deeper into the room. I have no idea how to dance. So I moved to the music and enjoyed watching Katie. She didn’t let go of my hand for several minutes. She smiled, made jokes, and her moves were partly hip-hop and partly goofy. Every few minutes she would press herself against me and dance or whisper something in my ear, and even though I longed for those moments and wished they’d last forever, they also tempered the dance’s enchantment. What would we do if a slow song came on? Was Sammy watching? What about Hannah?

  I don’t know how long we danced, but eventually we took a breather. She watched me. I watched her. The rest of the world dissolved. For whatever reason, the moment was electric and tense.

  “What’s that look?” I asked.

  She shook her head slowly and said, “What are you thinking about?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “Yes you do.”

  “I wish...” I said. “I wish...I could dance as well as you.”

  “No, that’s not what you were thinking.”

  “I was thinking that Sammy is very lucky,” I admitted.

  “Hey man,” a voice breathed heavily into my ear, and an arm draped itself around my neck. It was Jesse, our running back. “You a boss, you know that, man? You a boss. You a boss of a quarterback.”

  “Thanks, Jesse.”

  “Here, bro,” he said and pushed a red plastic cup at me. “Alex said we’re not supposed to be drinking til her parents are asleep in the guest house. But you deserve this, man,” he said, poking a finger into my chest. “Played your ass off, you know what I’m saying?” I looked down at the cup and the beer foaming inside. I’d never drank beer before. It smelled sour.

  Within Katie’s face I could see her evaluating the ranks of consequences bubbling in the liquid. Her mother was very strict and conclusively forbade alcohol. My father drank a lot, and we both knew it was a source of family pain. Beer cans usually lay around his chair in the morning, but I’d never been tempted to drink one myself. Nor did I want to now, but I’d noticed that alcohol seemed to be a powerful bonding agent on the football team for whatever reason.

  “Drink it, baby,” Jesse said, his words a little slurred. “Tip it up.”

  “Absolutely not,” Hannah snapped, striding into the room. “Chase, have you been drinking?”

  “I have not,” I replied, eyeing the urine colored beverage distastefully.

  “Of course he’s not going to drink that, Jesse,” she continued. “He’s the quarterback. His arm will get him into college. His arm can make him millions of dollars, and you want him to throw that away?”

  “It’s just beer,” Jesse mumbled. Jesse is popular and loud, but he was cowed by the strength of Hannah’s presence.

  “It’s just a car accident waiting to happen. Or a suspension. And what about you, Jesse? You’re really good! You want to throw that away? For sour piss water? Are you really that insecure?”

  He took the beer out of my hands and slumped away, thoroughly chastised.

  “Chase,” she said. “Don’t even hold a cup. There are camera phones everywhere. Your future is too bright. Right?”

  I smiled at her and said, “It’s nice to see you thinking about my future.” I didn’t mention that she seemed to care more about me when I was the starting quarterback.

  “About us,” she corrected. “I’m thinking about us and our future. I will not be dating a drunk.” She noticed Katie and her demeanor changed. “Oh, it’s Katie! Hi Katie,” she said and the two girls hugged, although Katie appeared surprised at the affection. “Can you believe Chase took that cup from him?”

  “If my mother would have been here,” Katie shook her head, “she would have killed him.”

  “Exactly. And you have the prettiest hair! My hair never looks good like this,” she said, and then to my great confusion they spent the next few minutes playing with each other’s hair and complimenting outfits. Finally a new song started and Hannah said, “Oh, it’s my song! Let’s dance, boyfriend.”

  Boyfriend??

  Deep throbs and pulses enveloped the room. Hannah handed me her high heels, raised her wrists above her head, and started rotating her pelvis to the new dance beat. Two other girls knew the dance and they joined her. Slowly the rest of the party-goers scooted back to make a circle for Hannah and the two others, and we watched the show. Hannah danced differently than Katie; Katie had fun, but Hannah performed. She moved like an exotic hip-hop dancer with silky twists and thrusts. The other two girls were good, but Hannah was the natural star and more kids gathered around to watch. She didn’t dance for pleasure, but rather to give pleasure. She seduced and beguiled the audience, maintaining eye contact with only me and once strutting over to rub her body tantalizingly against mine, making me so uncomfortable and awkward that the crowd laughed and hooted. When the song finally beat to an end, she and the two other girls laughed while the rest of us applauded.

  I couldn’t see Katie anywhere.

  As a new song started, Hannah put her arms around my waist and said, “Guess what happens next?”

  “What?”

  “You get to take me home,” she cooed bewitchingly, but she said it loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, like she was intentionally broadcasting intimate details of her personal life.

  I had never kissed a girl. I had no idea how to respond to that invitation. But I knew one thing: I wanted to get to her house as fast as possible.

  On the way home, she regaled me with gossip I didn’t care about concerning people I didn’t know. She critiqued my conversational abilities at the party and told me that I had done well. I felt like I was receiving a job evaluation.

  “I saw Andy,” she said as we neared her house.

  “Really? I didn’t see him there.”

  “He went to the basement pretty quickly with some slut,” she said.

  “Ah.”

  “He wanted to verify we were still going to homecoming together,” she said.

  “Doesn’t he want to go with...the slut?”

  “No, he probably just has her for the night,” she scoffed. “Do you still not want to attend homecoming?”

  “I have no desire to go,” I said. Plus I had no money for a suit.

  “I guess I can meet you at the after-party,” she mused. “And you’re sure you don’t mind if Andy and I go together? It’ll just be for appearance and the pictures. Those are important and he does photograph well.”

  “Earlier tonight you called me your boyfriend,” I said, answering her question with a question. “Why?”

  “Everyone else is saying it. So I said it as a joke. Besides, Chase,” she said, and she rested her hand on my leg. “We make a gorgeous couple. Everyone says it.”

  “Except Andy.”

  “Who cares,” she laughed. “I might not even dance with him at Homecoming.”

  We pulled into her big driveway. We got out and she cozied up against me, encircling me completely with her arms. “I had a nice time with you tonight,” she murmured into my shirt.

  “Me too,” I said.

  She gazed up at me, her big blue eyes catching the starlight. I looked down at her. Our noses were almost touching. She rose up on her tiptoes to kiss me and I lowered to meet her and…

  She kissed me on my cheek. A peck, so quick it was gone before I felt it.

  “Goodnight, Chase,” she said and hurried to her door.

  I was still standing there five minutes later, stranded and confused, long after the outdoor lights shut off.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Saturday
, September 29. 2017

  Loneliness.

  I sat on top of my house feeling lonely.

  I hadn’t been alone all day, but the feeling persisted. I’d spent the afternoon with Cory and Lee, fidgeting with Lee’s inventions. He was currently focusing on electroshock technology, which Cory and I figured was an improvement over last year’s pepper-spray phase. The first invention he showed us was a concealed stun gun that fit into a person’s palm. Usually stun guns look like flashlights or pistols, but Lee had built a single-use device intended to be hidden and only triggered when pressed against someone. Cory, his usual subject, agreed to be zapped only on a low setting. However, the prototype apparently still had kinks because Lee nearly electrocuted himself to the point of unconsciousness while turning it on. After he recovered, we declined being subjected to his second invention, a remote control car with a long-range wired electroshock projectile. He eventually relented, claiming he could practice on his dog in order to prepare for the science fair. He was joking. I think.

  My Twitter timeline had been filled with congratulations. I posted a pic on Instagram and over 400 people Favorited it. Dad was downstairs. My neighborhood was populated with warm light streaming out of windows. From my view I could see much of beautiful, sprawling Los Angeles. So why did I feel so lonely?

  Because of those two girls, that’s why. One of them called me her boyfriend but only in public. When we were alone she acted polite but nothing else. The other girl was perfect but was dating another guy. Neither of them liked me enough to be with me on a Saturday night.

  I read the text again.

  >> Hi Chase! Thanks for the invitation but I’m catching up on homework tonight and practicing cheers with mom. You were perfect last night! xoxo Hannah

  I wasn’t an expert on typical relationship norms but being turned down for homework and mom wasn’t a good indicator. I sucked at this. No girls liked me. I was brooding when my phone buzzed.

  Not my phone. Natalie North’s phone, the pink one. The message coming through had a picture attached. It took me a moment to discern what I saw. Natalie North was lounging on her couch wearing a white tank top and her superhero mask.

  >> Come over?

  I chuckled and shook my head at the phone. Come over. That’s ridiculous.

  ...or was it?

  Why not? One of the most beautiful girls in the world wanted to see me. She had been pursuing me, and not the other way around. I wouldn’t go see her as Chase Jackson, I’d be going as the Outlaw. Chase Jackson had no date tonight, even though he’d asked out a girl that seemed to be using him for publicity reasons. He’d been shot down. And now another girl was asking out the Outlaw.

  The more I thought about the idea the more I liked it. I slid back into my room and rustled up the costume. I laid the ski mask and the bandanna out on the bed.

  Strange things happened when I put this on. I acted differently, for one thing. I felt freer, like the shackles of restraint and responsibility fell off. Putting the mask on filled me with confidence and recklessness. Other people responded strongly to the mask too. Teenage girls used the Outlaw as their computer screen saver! Natalie North wanted to meet secretly with him. Criminals reacted as though they’d seen a ghost. The police officer had seemed stunned. They all had.

  Except Tee. If I went to visit Natalie I had to avoid any and all crime. And police. And cameras. And Tee.

  Was I really considering this? My first two Outlaw exploits had been propelled by my lack of options. They were sacrificial deeds for the benefit of others. But tonight I just wanted to go. Tonight was selfish.

  Before I knew it, the mask was already on.

  I approached Natalie North’s building cautiously. The streets were still alive with traffic and pedestrians at 10:30 in the evening. Across from my alley, patrons at an Italian bistro were cheering for a soccer match on the television.

  I certainly couldn’t go in the front door. In the rear of her apartment building I’d found a vacant loading dock, but I didn’t think that’d do me any good. I wanted to get to the roof but I saw no way to get there. Hmm.

  The lack of fire escapes puzzled me. Didn’t all buildings have those? I could see two sides of the building, including the front, which I’d driven past slowly. The building’s third outer wall was shared with the adjacent structure. Natalie’s building appeared to be five stories tall and the adjacent one was two stories. I stood in a corner created by the two buildings in almost total darkness. If I could get on top of the smaller building...

  I started to climb. The two surfaces offered a surplus of handholds and foot purchases. The adjacent brick wall was perforated with windows that had been boarded up on the inside. I pulled and jumped up the walls with ease. My hands fused to the wall’s texture and there was no fear or even a consideration of falling. The danger just didn’t occur to me. In retrospect, that was stupid!

  I climbed over the roof’s parapet, or retaining wall.

  So far so good.

  Bingo. Natalie North’s building did have a fire escape. It let out to the roof of the building I now stood on. The fire escape had a modern design, built like a fancy staircase that I quickly ascended. The roof of Natalie’s apartment building had been decorated. Potted plants and sets of wrought-iron tables and chairs were arranged artfully around the space. Thin green turf carpeting had been rolled out like an area rug. Christmas lights lined the safety rails and provided cheery illumination for the large rooftop.

  I hid in the shadows near the roof’s only doorway and took out Natalie North’s phone (thirty-three minutes after her invitation) and sent her a message.

  I’m on your roof. Then I waited.

  This miiiiiiight have been a rash decision. I’d been making too many of those recently. I’d been dependent on luck and the mask to cover my mistakes. Maybe I should sneak back down before she replied. But…I was really excited for the Outlaw to meet this celebrity.

  The door beside me swung open and a girl cautiously walked out. Natalie North! She was scanning the rooftop and looking everywhere but behind her. She wore spandex black running pants and the white tank-top I’d seen earlier.

  “Hello?” she whispered. “Are you really here?”

  Shoot. I made a mistake! The rooftop was far too well-lit. She could easily examine and memorize my features. She could identify me to the police, or, perhaps worse, realize that I was only seventeen! I looked around frantically for a solution. There! I stood directly next to the electrical outlet into which the Christmas lights were plugged.

  “Helloooo?” she said again, a little louder.

  I yanked the light cord out of the wall. The rooftop lights blinked out immediately, plunging us into darkness. She gasped. The blackness wasn’t complete due to the ambient light from the city, but for an instant I couldn’t see her.

  “You’re scaring me,” she said. I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure I could talk, I was so nervous. Once my eyes started to adjust, I could see her scooting towards the door, rubbing her arms as if she was cold.

  I stepped out of the deeper shadows and away from the door. Her breath caught and she whirled around to face me, her fist clutching a cell phone to her throat. Only now that she was facing me did I realize she still wore her plastic superhero mask.

  She watched me with wide eyes under the fake Superman face, and I inspected her in return. She didn’t say anything, probably because I’d startled her. I didn’t say anything because...I had no idea what the Outlaw should say to Natalie North. The Natalie North.

  “It’s really you,” she breathed. I nodded.

  She’s little. I don’t know why but this surprised me. Perhaps I expected a larger-than-life girl would be...large? She was shorter than Katie. Her waist was small, and her arms were thin.

  “Say something,” she pleaded.

  “Hello Natalie,” I said.

  She gave a nervous half smile and said, “Say something else.”

  “Thank you for inviting me.”

>   “Thank you for coming,” she replied.

  “Are you positive that inviting over guests that terrify you is such a good idea?”

  She took a careful step towards me and said, “You’re not this intimidating on the phone.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said.

  “I know,” she said. “I know that. But it doesn’t make you less scary.”

  “Natalie-” I said and took a step towards her.

  “Stop,” she said and backed up. “Please?”

  “Okay,” I said. On a sudden whim I lowered myself down to sit criss-cross. “Better?”

  “Yes,” she said and I could see the tension drain out of her, like she’d been waiting for confirmation I wouldn’t assault her. Her voice and her whole posture changed.

  “Good.”

  “How tall are you? I know Shaquille O’Neil and you look as big as him.”

  I laughed and said, “I haven’t measured myself recently but I’m not that big.” I kept my voice to a deep octave and the mask distorted my plosive sounds. It was an effective vocal disguise, hopefully.

  She carefully sat down across from me and said, “Will you take your mask off?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’ll take my mask off,” she offered.

  I shook my head.

  She sighed and pulled the mask off. Her high cheekbones and the angles of her face were traced from the faint light in the night sky. “My mask bribe is never going to work, is it?”

  “No.”

  “Can I see my phone?” she asked. I took it out and slid it to her. She picked it up, browsed through it for a minute, giving me an opportunity to examine her, and then she slid it back. “I can trust you,” she said. “Can’t I.” The way she said it sounded more like a realization than a question.

  “Of course.”

  “I realized tonight that you have me at a disadvantage.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “I am at your mercy. You have my phone. My contacts. And pictures of me. Gossip magazines will pay you a lot of money for those.”