“Sucks what happened,” Pearl called in from the other room.
“Yeah.” Keen tugged his uniform off and sat down next to the pants. He pulled them on. They felt strange. Loose. He stood up. When he walked, they swished around his legs. It would take some getting used to.
“Still naked?”
“No.”
Pearl appeared in the doorway with a pint of chocolate peanut butter ice cream and a spoon. “This is good. I don’t get this at home.”
“Help yourself.” He picked up a shirt. “Do I just put this on?”
“Do you have an undershirt?”
Keen didn’t own any shirts. If he got cold, he pulled his cape around him like a blanket. “No.”
“Let me look in my bag.” Pearl took the ice cream with her. Keen examined the shirt and tried to figure out how to pull it over his head.
Pearl came back a moment later and tossed him a white sleeveless undershirt. Keen unvelcroed his cape.
“I’ve never understood why you wear a cape,” Pearl said. “You don’t fly, and as clumsy as you are, I’d think it would get in your way. What if you slam it in a door? You’d choke yourself.”
“Easy-break velcro,” Keen said. “I wear it because I like it. Why do you wear that?”
Pearl thrust her hips out, posing. “You know why.” She grinned.
Keen laughed. “Yes I do.”
“Try the undershirt.”
He pulled it on. He gagged and flailed as it choked him.
“Stop it! Hold still!” Pearl smacked his head, and Keen stilled. She took him by the wrist and guided his arm. A twist and tug, and she freed his head from the armhole and guided him back through the head hole, then pushed his arm into the correct opening. “There. Better?”
“Thanks.”
She directed him into the shirt, slapping him when he tried to help. “You’re making it worse.”
After she stepped back, he pulled on it, trying to give himself more space under his arms. And now he had to put a jacket on over it? “This is Hell,” he said.
“I know, baby.” Pearl gave him a sympathetic pat. “It won’t be for long.”
“You really think that?”
She rose a few feet off the floor, crossed her legs into a pretzel, and lowered herself down to sit on Keen’s dresser. “I don’t know. It’s a mess. We didn’t go through this before we privatized.”
“Yeah.” Keen concentrated on buttoning his shirt. “The good ol’ days, right?”
“Superheroes and the police working together? Instead of what we’ve got now? The police with no budget and superheroes working at employment agencies getting hired out to whoever has the most money? Yeah, I’d say it was the good old days.”
Keen snorted. “Jasper’s okay with it.”
“He misses them, too. He and the superintendent of police used to be close. They haven’t spoken for years.” She poked the ice cream.
“They spoke today,” Keen muttered. He’d buttoned his shirt one hole off. He started over.
“Days of comic books, Keen.” She set the ice cream aside with a dreamy look. “I could have had my own series.”
“There are still comic books.” Keen didn’t know why he was defending the system, except he didn’t like the idea that things were better then than now. Superheroes were supposed to save and uphold, and that included a good way of life for all citizenry.
“Not the same,” Pearl said. She shook herself out of her funk. “Anyway. Lay low, all right? There’s video from the bank.”
“I know. Jasper made me watch it.” It showed the bank, hostages and takers inside, and then a Keen-shaped hole in the wall, and, one second later, the explosion. Keen himself was not pictured. The video showed a man leaning over one of the unconscious hostages. One of the criminals waved a gun at his back, but the man didn’t turn until the last second, not because of the gun, but because of the noise from the explosion. His opened mouth, probably emitting a soundless scream, was the last thing on the video before it went to static. That face was frozen in Keen’s mind now. “Maybe this will end soon,” Keen said, choosing to follow Pearl’s halfhearted enthusiasm.
“Sure it will.” She reached for him. When he held his hands out, she buttoned his cuffs. “Put your jacket on.”
It fit well, or so Pearl said. She yelled at him when he tugged on his collar. “Do you need help with the tie?”
“Yeah.”
After a few minutes struggling with it, Pearl gave up. “I have no idea. Look it up on the internet?”
“Will do. Thanks for the help.”
“Anytime.” Pearl kissed his cheek and handed him the empty ice cream container. “Show me out?”
He walked her over to the window and flung it open. Pearl picked up her bag and stepped out. He watched her fall. Ten feet from the ground, she swooped back up, raised one leg to the level of her knee, and ascended to the skies.
“So, administrative leave?” A huge hand on Keen’s shoulder stopped him from falling out the window from surprise. “Sorry.” The rest of Vapor materialized after his hand. He looked sheepish. Once Keen indicated that he was steady, Vapor shoved his hands into the pockets of his overalls.
“Yeah. You hungry?”
“Aren’t I always?”
Keen led the way to the kitchen, just a few feet away. There was no point in asking Vapor how he’d gotten in. The man was his own transport system, and walls and doors were nothing to him, although he rarely ended up where he intended. He turned up at Keen’s often, forgot to announce he was there, and seemed as surprised as Keen when Keen discovered him. On Football Mondays, Keen set out two bowls of food so he could tell when the one he wasn’t eating started to go down. He pulled out two bowls and a box of cereal. Vapor got the spoons and milk.
“Administrative leave,” Keen said. Vapor nodded, his body flickering in and out. He sat down to commiserate.
“KEEN! Glad to see you.” Paul Cook strode forward, hand outstretched, as Keen entered the office.
“Councilman.” Keen shook Cook’s hand, glad that Cook hadn’t mentioned Keen’s tardiness. The YouTube tutorials on tying a tie had not helped. He’d almost strangled himself before giving up and employing the same knot he used on his bootlaces.
“Call me Paul. We’re friends in here.”
“But only one of us is signing the checks.” Another voice spoke up. Keen turned to see a man dressed in faded khaki pants and an untucked shirt grinning at him. “Danny,” he said. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for filling in on short notice.”
“Hi.” Keen looked around. “So, where do you need me?”
“First thing.” Paul picked up a potted plant from a nearby desk; he handed it to Keen. “Take this to Robbie. There’s a card around here….” He left Keen holding the plant while he searched around the desk. “Here!” Paul poked the card into the leaves.
“Where am I taking this?”
“Hospital. St. John’s.”
“And who’s Robbie?”
“He’s the guy you’re filling in for. You did get his dossier?”
“I did, but there wasn’t any name in it.”
Paul grinned. “That doesn’t sound like Robbie. Anyway, run this over, tell him we wish him well, and pick up some hamburgers on your way back. About thirty should do it; Danny will give you money, and plan on a late night.”
“Yes, sir,” Keen said.
“None of that sir stuff,” Paul yelled as Keen departed.
KEEN stood next to Robbie’s hospital bed. It was the guy. The guy from the bank video who had turned at the last second. Keen held the flowerpot to his chest and watched him sleep.
“You can put that on the table against the wall,” the nurse said. Keen didn’t want to take his eyes off Robbie. His gaze locked on Robbie’s mouth, on lips thick and pink. He put the flowers down. When he turned around, Robbie had opened his eyes.
“Tell me you’re an angel.”
“I’m Keen Haabe. I’m filling in for yo
u.”
“You’re my replacement? You’re delicious.” Keen shoved his hands in his pockets and concentrated on not dying of embarrassment. He focused on Robbie’s voice. It sounded rough, bruised. From the scream, Keen guessed. Robbie waved his hand, patting the air. “Oh, hey, sorry. It’s the drugs talking.” There was a twinkle in his eye, a quirk of his lip that suggested it wasn’t the drugs, that he’d say that anyway.
Despite Robbie being shirtless, pantless, and lying on his side due to the large bandage on his back, thus exposing his underwear, and Keen wearing more clothes than he ever thought necessary, Keen had never felt more naked in his life. The scary thing was, he liked it. Robbie gestured for him to come closer. Keen ended up right next to the bed holding Robbie’s hand when Robbie offered it. Robbie blinked up at him. Keen leaned down so Robbie didn’t have to strain to talk. “You don’t know how to knot a tie, do you?”
“No.”
“Come here.”
Robbie undid Keen’s tie one-handed. He re-knotted it, correctly, and slid it into perfect position. Robbie had big hands.
“There.” Robbie patted Keen’s shoulder before collapsing back down. “You don’t get many executive-type jobs, huh?”
“Not really.” He fiddled with the new knot. It was smaller than what he’d done, and now the tie lay flat.
“Is it hard finding work as a temp?”
“I’m not really a….” He stopped when he saw that Robbie had fallen asleep. Keen centered the flowers on the table and tiptoed out.
He forgot to pick up the hamburgers and had to go back, and hung up on three senators when Cook put him on phone duty, so he spent the rest of the day with Danny talking about spreadsheets, or listening about them since Keen didn’t have anything to add to the conversation, at the end of which he found himself with a flash drive, laptop and binder and no clue what he was supposed to do with any of them. He squirreled himself away in a corner to figure it out, but wasn’t there thirty minutes before Laura, Cook’s chief of staff, dragged him out again for a coffee run.
“It’s almost five,” he protested.
“We’re here until ten.” She gave him a smile that was both apologetic and able to convey “That’s life in the big leagues, kid.” Keen plastered on a grin. If he’d been allowed to use his powers, he could have bypassed the line, made all the coffees, added the cash to the till, and been out before anyone noticed. They would see the huge mess he left, but not him.
“YOU said your last name’s Haabe?” Robbie asked. He’d progressed to sitting up in the hospital bed.
“Yeah. Means hope.” His intended quick visit rolled into its twentieth minute. He couldn’t get himself to leave.
“Keen Hope? Man, I’d like to meet your parents.”
“I, uh, I mean—” Keen leaned forward in his chair, trying to figure out how to explain that wasn’t possible.
“Hey, calm down. It’s just an expression. I’m not asking you to take me home for approval.”
He relaxed, glad to be relieved from telling Robbie he was an orphan. He didn’t want the “poor orphan” look from Robbie. “‘I’d like to meet your parents’ is an expression?”
Robbie grinned. “Sure. Hey, you’ve got the same name as Javier Haabe. You must get flack from that. People expect you to fly in and save the day?”
“Not fly in, but yeah.”
“I was devastated when he died.”
Not as devastated as me. “It was a big loss to the superhero community,” Keen said. Clenching his fists, he shoved his hands under his legs and pushed his emotions down.
“Big loss to the community, period. You’re still upset by it. I can tell. Come here.” Robbie patted a spot beside him. Keen glanced around to see if anyone was watching from the hall and climbed on the bed. Robbie put his arm around him. “I can loan you my comics. I still read them sometimes.”
“The good old days,” Keen said dully. He rested his head on Robbie’s shoulder. Robbie stroked his hair. Keen felt bad for Jasper sometimes, stuck with raising Keen and his younger brother and putting his own grief at losing his best friends on the backburner. Keen’s mother had died a year before his father, struck down not by an arch nemesis, but by a walk in the rain that led to pneumonia. Jasper hadn’t known how to be a good dad. He was a good man, but that wasn’t enough for an eleven- and five-year-old.
“Hey.” Robbie nudged him. “How are you doing with that tie? Let me see some skills.”
Keen scooted away to kneel on the bed, glad for the distraction. He loosened his tie and slipped it off his head. “I practiced last night.” He started to put it back on.
“Nuh uh. Start from the beginning.” Robbie grabbed it and undid the loop. He handed it back. “Now go.”
Keen draped it around his neck, letting the two ends hang down. He looped them over and under, trying to remember how Robbie had done it. He pulled his hands away, only to have his left one stay put, tied up in the knot. Robbie kept his lips squeezed shut, but his cheeks gave his laughter away. “Shut up,” Keen said. “I didn’t say the practice helped.”
“Come here. You’ll strangle yourself.” Robbie freed him. He undid the tie again and handed it back. “Try again.”
The second time Keen made the short end longer than the long end.
The third time he managed to get the tie on backwards. Robbie said between gasps of laughter that he’d never seen anyone do that. “Here, I’ll show you.” He knotted the tie around his own neck. “Think you can do it now?”
“Yeah.” When Robbie gave the tie back, Keen took it, put it around his neck, and closed his eyes. He imagined his hands as Robbie’s, moving as easily. He opened his eyes to find he’d captured his thumb.
“Well, you’re getting better each time.” Robbie freed him again and tightened the knot. “There. That’s perfect.”
“Really?”
“You’re coming tomorrow? So you can practice more?”
“Yeah.” He leaned against Robbie. “I’ll come every day.”
“I HEAR Cook’s happy with you,” Pearl said. “Never saw you as the admin type, but maybe you’ve got a future there.”
“Get in here, please.” Keen extended his arm and swept a gesture toward the inside of his apartment so she’d quit entertaining the neighbors with her pantied ass. She floated in and alighted on the couch, where Keen had been eating his soup until she knocked on the window. “Robbie will be out of the hospital tomorrow, so I’ll be done at Cook’s office soon. That means I’m clear with Jasper, right?”
“Councilman Cook asked if you’d stay on a few more days until Robbie’s back to one hundred percent. Jasper thinks it’s a good idea. He still wants you on administrative leave.”
“Do you know if the police figured out it was me?” He had changed into his house uniform after work and held his cape out of the way to sit down.
“Last I heard, they had. Jasper’s been in meetings about it. Is this chicken?” She grabbed the spoon.
“Don’t you eat at home?” Keen snatched it back. Work had been so busy he’d missed the hamburger run. “What kind of meetings?”
“Meetings. He’s been coming out of them in a decent mood, so I think you’re good. Jasper’s pleased with your recent behavior. He thinks you’re learning an important lesson. You’ll have that wristband off in no time.”
“He said that?” Keen had experienced a few slip-ups and stern phone calls, but because each burst of speed lasted a nanosecond Jasper had stopped at a warning and accepted that these were accidents.
Pearl edged closer to the bowl. “I inferred it.” Keen slumped backwards. When Pearl started eating, he didn’t protest. He listened to her slurp and drop the spoon back into the bowl. “You should call him. I inferred that too.”
“If he wants me, he can summon me.”
“I meant in a personal capacity.”
“I don’t…. That’s weird right now.” Jasper had never made it clear if his dissatisfaction with Keen’s performance on
the job crossed over into his personal feelings as a guardian, and Keen didn’t feel comfortable asking. He and his brother were willed to Jasper. He didn’t doubt that Jasper cared for them, but they were obligations, nothing more.
“The man raised you. What’s weird about that?”
“Nothing. You’re right. I’ll call him.”
“Good. Anyway, that’s all I came for. See you around.” She brushed his cheek with her pink-glossed lips and went out the way she came. Keen turned his attention back to his soup to see a disembodied hand holding the spoon over the bowl.
“Vapor!” The hand wobbled and the rest of Vapor appeared.
“Sorry. Thought you were done.”
Keen grabbed the spoon and finished his dinner.
“I APPRECIATE your help,” Robbie said. “Cook gave you the morning off?” He stood in his apartment for the first time in two weeks. He was also dressed for the first time since Keen had met him. He wore a T-shirt one size too big—so it didn’t press on his diminishing bandage—old blue jeans, and a pair of boots that laced up to his knees. Keen had tied those for him. “Have to leave with a little fashion,” Robbie had said, and then: “Plus you’re cute on your knees.” He’d petted Keen’s head when Keen had a coughing fit, and offered him some water from the tray that swung across his hospital bed.
“Yeah.” Keen looked around Robbie’s living room. “So, what can I help with?”
“Put me to bed,” Robbie said. “The trip wiped me out.”
“I thought I could cook you something?”
Robbie raised an eyebrow. “You cook?”
“I can do eggs.”
“All right. Bed first, eggs later.” Despite Robbie’s request that Keen put him to bed, Robbie led the way into the bedroom. Keen undid his boots for him. Robbie didn’t say anything to make him blush this time, but as soon as the boots were off, Robbie shucked his pants, revealing his blue jockey shorts.
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