Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm a Supervillain

by Richard Roberts

  Okay, build another Machine. I looked at it, wrapped snugly around my wrist. I’d felt so inspired. I’d needed to recycle circuit boards, right? What was it like to think that way?

  It wasn’t coming. Maybe something simpler? I had all the parts here. I knew how Dad’s nervous system antenna worked. Funny now that building it would do its job for it.

  I still didn’t know the math. I didn’t know what I was doing.

  I must have signaled my defeat somehow. I became aware of Dad standing over me, and he reached down and wrapped his arms around my middle and picked me up. I didn’t think he was still strong enough to do that.

  “Okay, I’m going to be serious, Princess. The bad news is, you’ll have a flash like this every few months, not as impressive, but you shouldn’t expect your power to emerge for at least a year, maybe three or four.” His voice was low and smooth as he laid it out. Not comforting, exactly. Professionally respectful, one superhuman to another.

  Then he turned me in his trembling arms, as much as he wanted to pretend I was still eight and he could do this easily, and he leaned his head down until his glasses tapped mine. “The good news is, your powers are on their way and they’re amazing. Maybe you’re not a superhero now, but you will be one day. You proved that today. The only question is where we go out to eat to celebrate.”

  “Pizza Place!” I answered instantly. The prospect of the best pizza in the world soothed my disappointment considerably. I wrapped my arms around Dad and hugged him, and our glasses clinked again. His were way more complicated and high tech, but you know what? Now it was only a matter of time.

  “The Audit! Run for it! Everybody run for it!” the owner yelled. Cooks and deliverymen scrambled around like scared ants.

  “This must be the twentieth time you’ve made that joke,” Mom told him as everybody smirked.

  “Twenty? Really?” he asked her. Everyone settled down and got back to cooking.

  “Contrary to rumor, I don’t count everything, Mr. Grigoryan,” Mom informed him. Her hands at her side flashed me seven fingers.

  It was easy to enjoy the humor as I climbed into my seat. The tables and chairs in Pizza Place are really high. I’ve never asked why. It’s Los Feliz, so I’m not sure there has to be a reason. The smell of cooking cheese hung thick in the air, and I just couldn’t wait.

  A meal at Pizza Place really eases the disappointment. Of all the tiny little restaurants that litter Los Feliz and serve amazing food, this is my favorite. It’s small—two tables inside and one outside small—but the pizza is so good. So good.

  Forget cafeteria pizza. They brought ours to the table, with the fluffy, dark brown crust and the pepperoni slices curling up on top of the cheese, and I grabbed the first slice and stuffed it in my face. It was greasy, but not grease. Hot cheese, greasy, full of flavor, with a sharply spicy sauce.

  “I’m really proud of you, Pumpkin,” Dad told me after a couple of measly bites. I reached for my second slice.

  I glanced up at Mom.

  “Three Pumpkins, two Princesses,” she recited.

  And that was just since I got out of school. Once I made a deposit in my bank account, I’d be buying the Candy Chainsaw expansion pack to Teddy Bears and Machine Guns this weekend. That was a pretty good bonus reward.

  “I’m serious, Penny,” Dad went on, all stubborn. “Every parent in the community wonders whether they do or don’t want their children inheriting their powers. It’s a dangerous, crazy life, sometimes.” I shot a glance up at Mom. Yeah, she had that wistful look too. “I’ve asked myself that question more than once in the last year, but, when I looked at the mechanisms in your little creation there, I felt so proud I thought I would explode. I know it’s going to hurt waiting four years for your power to really emerge, but when it does it’s going to be something else.”

  “Until then, you’ll have to be patient. Like the other Birds And Bees speech, you can’t rush this. It will happen in its own time,” Mom added. They’d switched roles, and now she was the designated Bad Cop.

  I bit into another slice of pizza. So good! So good! Was it any wonder this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant was where superheroes went for their pizza?

  Speaking of which, I gaped as a suit of shiny brown armor hit the sidewalk. I wasn’t alone. Yeah, the superheroes ate here, but in costume?

  And Mech himself?

  Mr. Grigoryan had to slap his workers around to get them moving again. I could have used a slap myself as Mech entered the store, walked right up to our table, took off his helmet, and told me, “I hear there’s a new mad scientist in LA. Welcome to the brotherhood, sister.” And he winked at me.

  I was going to fall out of my chair. I couldn’t feel my butt. And he took off his helmet! Yes, the goggles and the flight suit underneath with all the metal to fit into the suit were nearly as good as a mask, but it was still a risk.

  I should have protested that mad scientists are villains, but if Mech and my Dad both used the term…

  Dad just couldn’t let me enjoy it. “Tell the rumor mill they’re jumping the gun, Mech. Penny’s powers showed themselves rather spectacularly today, but it’s only a flash. She won’t be one of us for a few years.”

  Bah.

  “Those few years will disappear, Brian. Be ready for it. So, what did you make?” Mech looked at me again!

  I held up my wrist. Then I felt like an idiot, so I told The Machine, “Uncurl.” It didn’t. I’d have to restart it.

  “Artificial life and a perpetual motion machine in one go,” Mom filled in. Now she looked pleased. Both of my parents did. Proud.

  “I can’t figure out how it works. It appears to eat ambient energy to keep moving and stores it in a nine-volt battery, of all things. It isn’t even electrical. The actual method of operation is a mystery,” Dad explained.

  Mom flashed a whimsical smile. “And it crank starts.”

  Yes, I’d had to grab it and twist it around, feeling it grind reluctantly until it picked up speed and came to life. Uncurling, The Machine climbed up onto my upraised hand and reared up facing Mech.

  “May I?” Mech asked me, personally.

  “Absolutely.”

  I knew I blushed. I sounded like an idiot fan girl. It’s just that Mech was talking to me, and he’d taken off his helmet, and, even with the gold mask of the flight suit, he had a jaw that rounded down in a way that was almost pretty, and his dark skin (Indian, maybe? I didn’t know him out of the suit) and his black eyes ….

  Get a grip, Penny. Get it fast. Mech is just the top of the game. Smart, powerful, dedicated. When those aliens with the drone army attacked, Mech was one of the heroes who went out to destroy their warp gate.

  Actually, as a superhero’s daughter, I was one of the very few non-heroes who even knew that had happened, and I was in the process of “superhero.”

  He had a thousand idiot fan girls, but treated me with respect regardless. While my brain raced, he picked up The Machine.

  I heard a nasty scraping noise, like metal fingernails on a blackboard. It came from The Machine. What the frog? Was it chewing on the thumb of Mech’s suit?

  “Stop that!” I scolded. It went still.

  “Voice commands, no identifiable power source, and it’s packed with gearwork. I’m impressed. The first thing we invent is often our greatest creation. Your father has warned you about that?” Mech asked, peeking up from squinting into The Machine’s open panels. They were convenient for showing off, but it looked half-built with a casing only on some of its segments.

  “Yeah,” I answered. Was absolutely everyone going to try and give me the speech?

  No, he was going another direction. He gave me a warm smile, and he looked impressed. He really looked impressed. “If the rest of your inventions are only half as brilliant as this, I look forward to adding some of them to my armor.”

  I laid my hands carefully on the table and tried not to geek out. Sitting on them would have been safer, but more obvious.
/>   Dad smirked. “Throwing me over for the younger model, Mech?”

  “I wouldn’t even be in the same league I am without your additions, Brian. All I invented was the armor,” Mech assured my Dad, giving him that warm smile now.

  “Which I still can’t replicate. As efficient and adjustable as it is, you could go to anyone for weapon systems,” Dad answered in the same tone.

  “Mech, how is Marvelous?” Mom inquired, slipping into the mutual congratulations.

  “I got her a sample of dragon blood this morning. The real stuff, not a mutated super science lizard. She believes with that she can break the curse.”

  “Dragon blood might help. Dragon genetics makes guppies look simple. Their blood is full of so many unusual enzymes, I’ve seen it spontaneously induce super-powered mutations,” Dad mused. Me, Mech, and Mom all had the same expression. Dad would fight to his last breath to describe magic as anything but magic.

  “Where did you get real dragon blood?” Mom asked.

  “From Malachi. Are you aware of another dragon who isn’t deep in hiding?” Mech replied. There was definitely a sardonic element in his tone.

  “How did he take it?” Mom asked back, with the same tone.

  “I need Brian to replace the shield supercharger, that’s how he took it,” Mech answered her.

  They were drifting into superhero shop talk, which could be pretty cool, except I didn’t know anything about Malachi and I didn’t get the joke. It would only get worse from here. Anyway, I wanted to play with The Machine, now that I’d woken it up, but Mech was still holding it in his hands.

  I reached down into Mom’s briefcase and pulled out a paperclip. I couldn’t play with The Machine, but paperclips had potential. They stored energy in tension well, like they were waiting to be springs. There was a lot you could do with that. I just had to twist, and twist, and use the edge of the table to make a sharp kink there, and I set the paperclip down on the table and watched it walk half a dozen steps before it fell over.

  What…?

  I picked up the paperclip, or at least the thing I’d made out of a paperclip. I’d made a thing out of a paperclip. My parents hadn’t noticed, but I could show them right now. I set it down to walk again, and it fell over. Oh, right, the tension had wound down, and I… had no idea how to reset it.

  So much for showing anyone.

  Wait! Dad told me it would be months before I had another flash like this. It had only been a few hours. My parents were expecting it to be years before my powers emerged properly.

  My parents were in for a big surprise, very soon.

  he next morning, or technically noon, I sat down at lunch with Ray; Claire was hardly a heartbeat behind us. I’d had just enough time to give them headshakes until now.

  Claire laid her lunch box on the table with a clink. “So what’s the word?”

  “‘Inscrutable?’“ Ray suggested.

  “Did your Mom tell anyone I got my powers?” I asked Claire. The tone of accusation went right out of me when she unpacked her lunch and passed me her turkey pot pie. Where did a woman like The Minx, who never had to be domestic, learn to cook like this?

  “Anyone? Everyone! And then I got home and they’re calling her back saying you don’t have your powers after all,” Claire filled in, cutting her lump of fried potato hash in half and slipping it to Ray.

  “I’m fairly certain I remember standing there for half an hour while you giggled and your hands moved like lightning. That seemed a touch superpower-y to me.” Ray tried to look serious, but his voice cracked and couldn’t hold the deadpan.

  “It’s a little of both. I’ve got super powers, but they’re not here yet. They’re just hinting at what they’ll be,” I replied, then took a bite of the pot pie before I had to speak again. It wasn’t pizza, but the crust was nice and fluffy and bready and blended perfectly with the chewy turkey. Even cold, it was good stuff.

  “Ah, a super-powered adolescence. I’ve heard that happens.” Ray was much better at keeping the disappointment off his face, but now the noncommittal solemnity betrayed him.

  “Mom’s happened all at once. She said it was scary, but it got her out of all the trouble it got her into. What timeline did your folks give you?” Claire asked.

  “They said a year to four years. They meant four years minimum. I could tell,” I answered.

  Claire and Ray looked at me. Apparently my poker face sucks, too. I had to go on. I hunkered closer and lowered my voice. “They’re wrong. I had a second episode while we were eating dinner. Just a little tiny one, but if it’s really going to be years that wouldn’t happen.” I might keep this secret from my folks, but there was no way I wasn’t sharing it with my best friends.

  “So what are we looking at?” Claire pressed.

  “Dunno. If they keep happening, maybe days? A week? I’m betting no longer than by summer,” I non-answered. I wished I had a real answer.

  Claire frowned. “Six months would be a long time to wait.”

  “I don’t know. I’m looking forward to six months of random super-science inventions,” Ray countered.

  “That sounds fun for us, but the guessing is going to kill Penny,” Claire told him.

  “I’ve got a distraction right here,” I assured them both. I held up my wrist, letting my shirt cuff fall away from The Machine.

  “I know this thing does more than just move around. We need to find out what.” My co-conspirators grinned.

  I was smart enough to text my Mom before my last class that I’d be sticking around after school to hang out with Claire and Ray. She wouldn’t object. How the two biggest nerds in all of superherodom could worry that their daughter spent too much time playing computer games and not enough outside in the healthy fresh air baffled me.

  It’s pretty safe around the school, which helps. The poor heroes all live south of here, and do a lot of patrolling in South Central, and the rich heroes live just north. Me and Claire were the only kids of openly admitted superheroes in school, but muggers and drug dealers and what all knew this was the most dangerous neighborhood in the city for them. Here, and Chinatown. I couldn’t tell you why Chinatown, I’d just heard my folks say it. Superhero gossip.

  We’re on our own against bullies, unfortunately. I wish it was a surprise to step out the side door onto the recess grounds and see Marcia bee-lining toward Ray with three of her friends watching.

  He was reading while he waited for me, so, of course, she grabbed the book right out of his hands and snarked, “Class is over. Do you ever spend five minutes without your nose in a book?”

  “Please give my book back,” Ray said, quiet and serious. That’s Ray with other people.

  Marcia smirked at him. She was blonder than he was, the perfect LA princess like everybody sees on TV, and taller than him, and cheerleaders are pretty strong. He looked so skinny and helpless, and she looked like what she was, just plain mean.

  Then she glanced at the book itself, and it got worse. With that nasty drawn-out twang her voice has, she laughed. “Oh, please. Look at this, Rachel. It’s not even a book. It’s a catalog for superhero toys! Guess who wants to get his hands on a page full of superheroine figurines?”

  Ray gets really expressionless at times like this, but that just tells you how mad he is. I didn’t want to look at it, but I also wanted to do something. “Stop acting like a harpy and give him his book back!” I snapped at her as I stomped up.

  Like that did any good. “Oh, please, now he needs a girl to rescue him. And it’s the Akk girl, whose superpower is the biggest pair of glasses in the world.” I tried not to wince. My glasses look great! I could have had contacts if I wanted.

  “Here. You can have your pictures of women in spandex back.” Marcia turned around and tossed the book over her shoulder. Ray had to grab twice to catch it.

  He didn’t want to look at me. I had to get control of my breathing and stop trembling. Why would anybody enjoy being mean like that? At least I’d scared her away.<
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  No, I hadn’t scared her away. That made no sense; I was just another target. Claire had rounded the corner and was walking toward us. Picking on Claire doesn’t make you look good. “I’d like to say a few things about her, but my mother says that swearing isn’t classy for villains or heroines,” she muttered as she joined us.

  “Forget her. We’re supposed to be celebrating.” Ray still sounded sour, but he was right. We wouldn’t stop being sour by stewing.

  Claire knew the right thing to say. “Is that the new Dynamic catalog?” she squealed, crowding up closer to peek into it. While Ray blushed and looked stunned, she crowed, “They came out with the classic Minx figurine. I’ve got to get one for Mom. And that’s Marvelous in her old costume! I’d forgotten how blatant it was. That’s less than Mom’s costume. Do you two want to go down to Rocket To Earth and see if the new stuff has come in yet?”

  “Normally, sure, but I wanted to try and find out what The Machine does,” Ray demurred.

  “We might as well go. I can wind it up and make it move around, but, other than that, I don’t even have a clue where to start,” I assured them.

  Ray’s grin came back. “I have an idea or two. Come on,” he promised me.

  He led us right back inside. I wondered where we were going, but it turned out we were going right here, back to the computer labs. We’d just caught Miss Petard closing the door behind her.

  “Miss Petard?” Ray greeted her, with a hopeful tone and a big smile.

  “It’s Friday, Ray. Shouldn’t you be going home?” she replied, with a smile almost as big.

  “Actually, Claire and Penny and I were interested in forming an official club, maybe lure out any other children of super-powered parents. You know who Penny’s Dad is, and I thought she might have some insights on our broken supplies.” I was a little surprised he’d lie to her, but… was it a lie? A club for kids of superheroes. I’d have my powers soon, and so would Claire.

  Letting us fool around in her repair lab was a ridiculous request, so she must have really liked Ray. “All right, I suppose. Lock the door when you leave, Ray?”