Shane smiled. “Okay. Oh, Glenn? This is Gretchen.”
Glenn, an older man with a sizable paunch and a bushy mustache, shook her hand with bemused politeness. “Pleased ta meet’cha,” he said with a thick accent. “I didn’t know we had any dames workin’ for us.”
Shane brushed off the question to explain what work he’d done earlier in the day, so Gretchen slipped inside the auto shop.
“Mr. Gonsalvo?” she asked.. She heard no reply. Maybe he was in the bathroom, she thought. She went over to the workbench, gasping a little at the stifling heat. Sitting atop the greasy surface, she found two cards with the words Just Cause printed upon them and signed by none other than Pony Girl.
“Wow,” Gretchen breathed in surprise. Harlan had really come through for her. She tucked the passes into a pocket and almost skipped out of the shop to find Shane.
He stood by his truck, chatting with Glenn and smoking. “Get what you needed?” he asked.
“Yes.” She couldn’t keep a wide grin from spreading across her face.
“See you later, Glenn. We’re going to go clean up.”
They got into Shane’s truck. “Check these out.” Gretchen pressed one of the passes into Shane’s hand. “That’s Pony Girl’s signature there.”
“Sure is.” Shane turned the card over to look at the official Just Cause logo on the back. He passed it back to her and started the truck.
Gretchen yawned and leaned back in her seat. The day had worn her out. She closed her eyes, telling herself it was just for a minute.
The next thing she knew, Shane was shaking her awake. “Hey, Gretchen, wake up. We’re here.”
She looked around, bleary-eyed. “At your apartment?”
“No, at the Con Ed shop. I just signed the truck back in. I was thinking I’d run in and take a shower here in the locker room so I don’t have to once we’re home. To my home, I mean.”
Gretchen yawned. “Oh, okay. What should I do? Wait here?”
“There’s a ladies’ room up by the customer service counter. They’re closed, but I have a key. You could at least change and wash your face and hands there.”
The ladies’ room was small, but at least it was clean. Gretchen shucked out of the coveralls and the sweaty t-shirt she had on under them. Her shoes were a total loss; she tossed them in the trashcan. After splashing water on her face and shaking out her hair, she felt at least clean enough not to repulse anyone nearby. She pulled on a clean t-shirt, slipped her feet into her sandals, and went back out to the customer service lobby to wait for Shane.
He arrived after only a few minutes, wearing blue jeans and a clean white t-shirt. “Ready to go?”
Gretchen smiled and twirled around once. “How do I look?”
He laughed. “Better than when you were covered in sewer muck.”
“Do you have a car?”
He shook his head. “It’s subway and hoofing it from here.”
“I’ve never been on a subway.” Gretchen picked up her suitcase.
“Don’t stand with your back to any creepy old men in raincoats,” advised Shane. “Keep one hand on your valuables at all times. And assume any puddle is piss.”
“God, is it really that bad?”
“Afraid so.”
In fact, the subway wasn’t as terrible as Shane had proclaimed. Nevertheless, Gretchen didn’t realize she was staring at a woman wearing a short leopard-skin dress until the woman said, “See anything you like, honey?” and spread her legs apart to show a lack of underwear. “Thirty bucks for you. Forty if your boyfriend wants to watch.” Gretchen blushed and bowed her head as the woman let out a derisive cackle.
As they got off the car at Shane’s stop, Gretchen took his hand so she wouldn’t lose him in the press of commuters. They moved along with the flow of people. She clutched her bag tight lest someone grab it away from her. Gretchen had never in her life seen this many people in one place.
They ascended the stairs to street level and the crowd thinned out somewhat, but Gretchen kept hold of Shane’s hand. The feel of his rough, tobacco-stained hand felt comforting. She found herself craning her neck wide-eyed at the skyscrapers. The tallest thing back home was the corn mill. “You live in one of those?” she asked.
“No, those are all commercial buildings,” explained Shane. “I live on the seventh floor of an eight-story building six blocks from here.”
“Eight stories!” It seemed like a tremendous height to her.
Shane led her four blocks in one direction and two in another to a red brick building with granite edifices decorating the roof and the space between the fourth and fifth floor. When she saw it, she gasped. “It’s beautiful.” The building might have been fifty years old or more, and it felt like a magical place to her.
Shane looked up at it, as if really seeing it for the first time. “I guess it does look good. I’m used to seeing buildings like it all over town. It’s not that special.”
“It’s where you live. Maybe where I can live too. That’s special enough for me.”
A man with flowing blond hair and clothes too small smiled at them as he got off the elevator. “Shane,” whispered Gretchen after the doors closed. “I think that was Tornado.”
“Who?” Shane pushed the button for his floor.
“Tornado, from Just Cause,” said Gretchen. “Does he live here?”
“That’s crazy. What would he be doing here, anyway? He probably lives in their headquarters in the Trade Center. I bet they all do. I doubt they’d even try to live among us little people.”
The elevator bell rang and the doors slid open. “I guess you’re right,” said Gretchen. “Still, can you imagine having a superhero living next door?”
Shane grinned. “That’s some imagination. Come on, I’m right down the hall here.”
Chapter Ten
July 13, 1977, 6:00 PM
Faith’s remaining interviews were brief and didn’t disclose anything the Feds hadn’t already told her. The dishwasher at the diner had seen Gretchen leave in Donny’s car. No, he didn’t know if they were involved with each other. No, he couldn’t think of any reason she might have to harm him. The other waitress working that night remembered that Donny had been drinking but otherwise had nothing to share. She didn’t think Gretchen was dating him, but Donny changed girlfriends the way some guys changed their shirts.
“He was kind of a jerk, though,” said the waitress as Faith prepared to leave.
“How’s that?”
The waitress shrugged a plump shoulder. “Sometimes he got a little fresh. Wandering hands, you know? He’d lay a girl and then move on.”
Faith lowered her voice. “Off the record… Did you ever sleep with him?”
The waitress nodded, causing a stray lock of mousy brown hair to fall across her face. She pushed the errant strand back behind her ear.
“How did he treat you?”
She shrugged. “Rough. Like I said, he was a jerk.”
“Thanks for your help,” said Faith. She’d seen the girl she’d glimpsed watching her earlier and decided some questions were in order. She zipped around the diner and skidded to a halt beside the lanky brunette. “Hi there.”
The girl jumped as if she’d been scalded.
“It’s clear you want to talk to me,” said Faith. “Well here I am. No time like the present. What’s your name?”
“Elizabeth. Elizabeth Hague.” She glanced about to see if anyone was watching. “Gretchen is my best friend. Can we talk in private?”
“Of course,” said Faith, excited by the apparent secrecy. This might be the lead she needed.
Elizabeth led her to an old Dodge pickup and coaxed it to life. “Keep down,” she told Faith. “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”
“Who told you that?” Faith hunkered down in the seat.
“My dad. The police chief. They know Gretchen and I were friends. They all want to see her fry because she killed their golden boy, but I know the truth and I didn’t
want to tell anybody but Just Cause.” She paused as she passed by the police station and headed to the western edge of town.
“Why us?” asked Faith.
Elizabeth glanced sidelong at her as she pulled the truck off along a dirt road until the tall rows of corn and wheat hid them from the main part of town. “Look, uh, Pony Girl. Gretchen is one of you. A parahuman. You guys take care of your own, right? That’s why I sent her to New York. To find you.”
“You sent her?”
Elizabeth killed the motor and turned to look at Faith. Her intense gaze burned as bright as the sun shining through the windshield. “Donny raped her. He raped my best friend and she killed him with a power she didn’t know she had.”
“Jesus,” whispered Faith. She’d feared that might have been the case but had hoped for something better.
“She came to me afterward. She was a wreck. When I realized what had happened, I knew she had to leave right away.” Elizabeth’s voice took on a hard edge. “Dyersville is a small town, and we’re pretty backwards in a lot of ways. Women are pretty much second-class citizens. We do what we’re told, put out for the boys, get married and be barefoot and pregnant. That’s the way it’s always been. The town elders wouldn’t stand for a woman being uppity with one of the popular boys. And as far as killing him with parapowers?” She shuddered. “She’d never even make it to a trial.”
“They’d kill her?” Faith was incredulous. She never realized this kind of thinking still existed. Living in a modern city like New York had colored her view of the world in a much broader palette than in America’s Heartland, she realized.
Elizabeth nodded and sniffled. “They don’t like folks who are different around here. More than one long-haired hippie or Negro has gotten himself beaten up here. Or worse.”
“Jesus,” Faith repeated. “Can you prove this?”
“I gave Gretchen my folks’ emergency cash to buy her bus ticket.”
Faith shook her head. “That’s not good enough. I believe you, but that’s not going to wash with the Feds on the case.”
“The Feds?”
“Using parahuman abilities against someone mundane is a federal crime. Your friend is in an awful lot of trouble and a lot of people are looking for her right now. You better hope it’s the right people who find her, and that’s Just Cause. Now you’ve got to give me something tangible.”
“How about Donny’s car? I can tell you where I hid it. It’s under a big pile of hay in Mrs. Wickersham’s barn. Her husband died last year and she’s giving up the farm so nobody would notice it.”
Faith pulled out her radio. “Steel, did you copy that?”
“Affirmative,” said the Steel Soldier over her radio. “Moving to confirm that report now.”
Faith sighed. “The car will help. But that’s still not enough. Gretchen arrived in New York this morning and disappeared. If she tried to get to us, she never made it. Where would she go? What would she do?”
“I don’t know,” cried Elizabeth. “I called my cousin and asked him to meet her. I don’t know if he did or not. I haven’t heard from either one of them and I’m worried sick about it. I’ve heard stories about New York, about the bad things people do to each other there.”
Faith shrugged. “Sounds like they do bad things to each other here too, Elizabeth. What’s your cousin’s name?”
“Shane. Shane Clemens. He works for that power company with the funny name.”
“Con Ed?”
“Yeah. That’s it.”
Faith grabbed her radio. “Sundancer, Steel, meet me at the western edge of town. We’ve got our lead.”
#
“Harlan, Momma says to come out for dinner.” Reggie’s voice piped down the hall in a tone that set Harlan’s teeth on edge. He trudged down the hall, knowing he was in for another round of tongue-lashing.
It began before he even reached the table. “Boy, you better not sit down at my table with hands and face looking like that. Get your butt into the bathroom and wash up.”
Harlan sighed and headed to the small quarter bath off the kitchen. He scrubbed grease and dirt off his hands. For the first time that day, he saw just how badly the boys had beaten him up earlier. His lower lip was swollen and cut. He had caked blood around his nose. One of his eyes had bruised so that it looked like someone had colored it with a Magic Marker. He splashed water onto his face until the smudges and dried blood were gone.
Thus presentable, he returned to the table. Momma had baked a ham casserole and cooked some greens on the side. It smelled delicious, but Harlan felt a little nauseated and knew it wouldn’t take much to make him ill.
“Momma, can I say grace?” asked Reggie.
“Yes, baby,” said Momma. She shot a significant glare at Harlan that implied if he didn’t behave himself that she would knock the black right off him.
“Thank you Lord for our food and our house,” Reggie intoned. “And bless Momma and Irlene and Harlan and me. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.”
Harlan muttered “Amen” along with her to avoid any unpleasantness. His God was Science, with angels named Tesla, Einstein, and Edison, but no one else needed to know that.
Momma dished up and passed plates to Reggie and Harlan. Reggie dove in with gusto but Harlan could only push the food around his plate with a fork.
“Momma, isn’t Leenie going to eat with us?” Reggie asked between bites.
“Not tonight, baby. She’s working on a case with her teammates,” said Momma. She turned to Harlan. “She called me earlier to say so. She also said she gave you some passes to visit Just Cause after you gave her a song and dance about impressing a girl.”
“That was true, Momma.”
“Then where are they?”
Harlan’s ears burned. “I don’t have them now.”
Momma’s face tightened, as if her skin shrank as her temper rose. “It’s bad enough that you lie to me, but now you got to drag your sister into this.”
Here it comes, thought Harlan.
“I don’t know why you can’t be more like Irlene,” said Momma, launching into one of her favorite tirades. “She never cut classes. She graduated at the top of her class. Top of her class! Don’t you know what that means for a young black woman today? She could go to college. Nobody in our family ever went.”
“Momma, may I have some more, please?” Reggie held up her empty plate.
“Land sakes, Reggie, I don’t know where you put it all. You certainly may.” Momma spooned more casserole onto her plate, and then returned her attention to Harlan. “You’re a smart boy, Harlan. But you need to buckle down and study so you might get the chance to get out of this neighborhood too. I won’t let you skip school anymore. From here on, either Irlene or I will take you to school every day.”
“But, Momma,” began Harlan.
“I’m not finished,” said Momma. “No more going to that horrid garage. I won’t have you wasting your time in all that dirt and filth when you should be learning.”
Harlan sighed. “I promise I won’t ever go back there again,” he said. “Gonsalvo retired today. I don’t know what will happen to his shop.”
Momma sniffed. “Well, that’s something. But your obsession with tools and things ends now. Your one focus in life is to be school, and nothing but school until your grades come up.”
“That ain’t fair!”
“You gonna tell me about fair? Of course it ain’t fair. It ain’t fair that I have to work two jobs to feed, clothe, and house you. It ain’t fair that you got no father to whip you when you mouth off.” Momma’s face darkened. “And it ain’t fair that I’ve got an ungrateful little bastard of a son like you!”
Reggie knocked over her milk glass and shrieked in surprise. “I’m sorry, Momma! It was an accident!”
Exasperated, Momma went to the sink for some rags. “I know, Reggie. Try to be more careful.”
“I will.” Reggie took a rag and carefully sopped up spilled milk. She smiled at Harlan a
s she cleaned up her mess. He blinked at her. It had looked to him like she’d knocked it over on purpose, but he couldn’t understand why.
Momma grumbled about the waste as she wiped up the table to get what Reggie had missed and went to the sink to rinse the rag.
“Ain’t you going to eat, Harlan?” whispered Reggie.
“I’m not hungry,” he said.
“Give me some of your food.”
Keeping one eye on Momma’s back, Harlan scraped half of his food onto Reggie’s plate. Their mother returned to the table and sat down.
“Momma, I’m sorry. My eyes was bigger than my tummy,” said Reggie.
“That’s all right, baby. We’ll have leftovers for tomorrow.” Momma took Reggie’s food and put it back into the casserole dish.
“May I be excused?” asked Reggie.
“Yes, sweetie. Go get ready for bed.”
“May I be excused too, Momma?” Harlan figured that maybe he could salvage something of the evening if he got off her bad side.
She grunted but took his plate and scooped the remains back into the dish as well. “You aren’t out of the woods yet, mister. I don’t want any more trouble from you tonight. You get your filthy butt into the tub.”
“Yes, Momma.” Harlan ran away to avoid any further wrath. He stopped at Reggie’s door. “Hey, I know what you did, and I just wanted to say thanks.” The word felt strange in his mouth.
Reggie smiled at him. “It’s okay. I don’t like when Momma yells at you. She yells at me, but not as bad as you.”
“Someday…” Harlan stopped, not knowing what he’d been about to say, except that it had an air of finality about it.
#
Tommy wanted to run, to scream, to hit something. He didn’t know whether to cry or die. Outside, dust swirled through the parking garage as miniature zephyrs twisted around John’s car in a reflection of Tommy’s inner turmoil.
Just Cause Universe 3: Day of the Destroyer Page 13