The Light of Redemption

by Natalie Damschroder

  “Hey, so, I have a question for you.”

  Simon came into the office so fast I jerked and tipped the office chair, caught spying on the new guy. I slapped my hands on the desk to right myself before the damned thing dumped me on the floor. Excuses barreled through my head and piled up on my tongue, but I managed to hold them back while Simon settled on the corner of my desk. He hadn’t even noticed what I was doing or that I’d reacted so suspiciously.

  “What?”

  “Why do you think Eclipse keeps her identity secret?”

  I nearly fell out of my chair again. “What? Why?” I had no idea why he’d ask that now. Eclipse had been operating in Pilton for five years, and nothing newsworthy had happened in the last couple of weeks. Unless you counted last night. And dammit, that would be a good reason to ask the question. Does Eclipse hide in the shadows so if she screws up no one will know who really did the damage? Or worse, does she hide so she could do damage?

  The idea that anyone could believe I’d willfully harm someone made me sick to my stomach.

  “I’ve been working on a piece on superheroes for a while. Something in-depth. And that’s a huge part of it. I wish I could interview her.” He stared into the distance as if imagining it. “I wonder who could get her for me. Who’s her Jimmy Olsen?”

  “She doesn’t have one,” I snapped. “No one has ever talked to her up close unless she was binding them for the police.”

  “Yeah, and that’s another thing.” He shifted around to lean toward me, his blue eyes blazing. “How does that work? How can light act like a solid, and hold someone without burning them? What allows her to manipulate it? What does it feel like? I talked to some of the people she’s captured, but none of them were good at articulating the subtle details.” He slid off the desk and paced next to it. “I want to know her origin story. Where her powers came from. Why she operates alone when so many others team up.”

  “Where is this coming from?” I pushed out of the chair and crossed to a box of new release acquisitions that was supposed to be put out on Monday. “Eclipse has been here for years and you never talked about her like this.”

  He didn’t answer right away, so I glanced over my shoulder to find him rubbing the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “I’ve had, uh, kind of a secret crush for a while. I was working on the piece this morning and it kind of bubbled over, I guess.”

  The irony rooted me to the floor. The edge of the box flap digging into my palm alerted me to how hard I was gripping it. My heart rate picked up a unique rhythm. Tell him. Tell him. TELL HIM.

  No way. I forced myself to calmly finish opening the box and remove the books one by one, stacking them alphabetically. It was too late. The part of me that demanded I act on his confession was operating on the same reflex as the beat-skipping my heart did when I saw him. And even if I still harbored that crush, I didn’t want Simon to see me as Eclipse. To want me because I was a hero—sometimes—and not because I was Harmony. That was not the kind of relationship I ever wanted to have.

  My silence didn’t seem to faze him. “She helped an elderly couple last night.”

  The newest Nora Roberts hardback flipped out of my fingers and slammed onto the floor. Since it landed on carpet, he didn’t seem to notice.

  “I followed up on an ambulance call in last night’s police logs,” he explained. “And met the couple at the hospital this morning. The guy had an episode with his heart, and Eclipse called for the ambulance and helped his wife get his medicine.”

  That was such a whitewashed version of what happened I couldn’t even believe it. “What caused the attack? Heart attack,” I clarified hurriedly, and though I didn’t want Simon to see my expression in case it revealed how desperate I was for this information, I needed to watch his, so I turned around. He had his phone out, swiping notifications off the screen.

  “It wasn’t a full attack. They’d just driven a few hours from their kids’ place up north and his electrolytes were off, he was exhausted, stuff like that. He’s had a condition for decades. The wife said Eclipse must have been patrolling the area and she saw what was happening and helped them out. She could do more of that.” He waved the phone for no reason. “Good Samaritan stuff. Rescuing people from car wrecks or whatever. Instead of just playing cops and robbers all the time.”

  I didn’t know whether to collapse in relief or light into him. Everything must have happened so fast, the Inalbis didn’t realize what my intentions had been. Or maybe my leaping at them had made so little sense, they spun their interpretations to fit my reputation.

  I focused on my annoyance. If Simon had judged Eclipse for her knee-jerk actions and the horrible consequences, that would be one thing. But for him to judge her for a lack of action was just not right.

  “Just how is she supposed to stop traffic accidents?” I demanded. My hands went to my hips. “She doesn’t have super hearing to know it’s going to happen.”

  “No, that’s not—”

  “She can’t fly to the scene of an accident or run faster than light to get there.” My voice was rising, and a couple of people passing the counter outside turned to look. I modulated my volume, which made my tone annoyingly squeaky. “And what’s she supposed to do when she is close enough to help? Brace her hands on the hood of a speeding car to stop it?”

  “I didn’t say stop an accident,” Simon protested. “I said rescue people when one happens.”

  I shook my head. “Same thing. How would she know or get there in time to help? And exactly how are her powers supposed to help someone who’s hurt? Or break open a crushed vehicle any better than the Jaws of Life? Being a superhero had nothing to do with how she helped those people last night. It sounds like,” I added lamely. “Anyone passing by would have done the same.”

  Simon was looking at me with his head cocked, but I could tell he was no longer seeing me. His glazed-over eyes indicated an epiphany about his story. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be happy about it.

  “You’re right.” He tapped his phone against his chin. “She’s very limited. Even more reason to wonder why she doesn’t team up somewhere. And that’s another question—why she bothers. What’s her motivation? That’s the missing depth I needed. What drives her to act the hero? Her ability alone doesn’t make her one. Man, now I really need to score an interview.” He bounded over to me and kissed my cheek. “Thank you. You always put me on track.” Then he was gone.

  Yay, me.

  ~ ~ ~

  The rest of the afternoon was nowhere near as eventful as the morning had been. Conn had checked out while I was in the office with Simon, who’d left me pondering the answers to his questions. My brain kept sliding from Eclipse’s two-dimensionality to Fran Inalbi’s condition to Olive’s blatant hint that she knew my secret identity.

  All I wanted by the time we closed the library that night was to go home, pour a glass of wine, and watch some of the shows piling up on my DVR. But Angie, whom I hadn’t talked to all day, knew me too well. She was waiting next to my car when I reached the parking lot, wearing a skirt and heels that she’d never wear to work at Millie’s.

  “What are you doing here?” I unlocked the car and set my tote bag on the passenger seat. She immediately grabbed it and moved it to the back.

  “I heard about last night.”

  I felt my face shift into a non-expression. Not that it would help. She could read me anyway. “What about last night?”

  “The Inalbis.”

  I shushed her and glanced around, but the parking lot was empty except for us. “What did you hear, and from whom?”

  “Come on. We’ll talk when we get there.” She slid into the seat and closed the door. I stood there, keys dangling, and threw my hands up.

  “Where?”

  Of course she didn’t move, so I tromped around
to the other side and got in. “If you want to abduct me, you should drive.”

  “I’m not abducting you. We’re going to Mawaga House.”

  I sighed and pushed the key into the ignition. “I’m not up for it tonight, Ang. Can’t we just go home?”

  “No. You’ll stew in your wine and feel even worse when you get up in the morning.”

  Which meant she’d heard something bad about the Inalbis. Simon’s story about the Good Samaritan must be only one of the versions out there. Or maybe Fran had another heart attack and died. Now I just wanted to cry.

  “Drive,” Angie ordered me, and though I wanted to shove her out and peel away, I sighed again and did as she said.

  Mawaga House was a quiet, dim restaurant a few miles outside of town. A good place to talk privately, though obviously not as privately as at home, and their pupu platters had a reputation of making me feel better. Which actually just made me feel worse, because it meant Angie thought I needed food therapy.

  We didn’t talk on the way there, and we were seated right away in a booth in the corner. Almost as if she’d called ahead and asked for it. I checked out the other diners, who sat at tables laid with straw mats under the glow of electric tiki torches and lamps.

  “Mai tais?” Angie picked up her menu and smiled at the server approaching our table.

  “Not tonight.” I turned to the woman in the black button-down shirt and black pants. “Just water for me, please.”

  Angie frowned. “Fine. Same for me. And we’ll have the pupu platter.”

  “Sure thing.” She backed off, and I fiddled with one of the straws she’d left on the table.

  “Look.” Angie pointed to the back of her menu. “New story.”

  I made some general noise that satisfied her. The guy who’d opened Mawaga House was from Massachusetts, and he’d named it after a native group from the area where he grew up. He’d chosen the semi-Polynesian theme to honor his Hawaiian relatives, or so his stories claimed. He changed them every few months, combining some personal story of his or a relative’s with something historical. They were ridiculous, but usually funny. I just wasn’t in the mood.

  “All right.” She put the menu down. “Tell me what happened last night.”

  “Tell me what you heard, first.”

  She folded her arms on top of the table. “Mostly nothing. A couple of people mentioned that Fran was in the hospital.”

  “Do you know them? Ruth and Fran?” I stripped the paper off my straw and checked for the waitress.

  “They’ve been in Millie’s. Not one of the four-o’clock crowd. I’ve met them, but don’t really know them.”

  I nodded and waited for the rest.

  “But then later someone said Eclipse was involved. I didn’t see who said it, but it kind of went around the diner, you know? So people were wondering what she’d done that put Fran in the hospital.”

  I scowled. “Why did they think she did anything?”

  “I’m not sure.” She leaned closer. “I think someone claimed to have been there and said it was Eclipse’s fault. But Bentley said Fran had a heart episode and was fine. So then everyone figured she’d been there to help.”

  “Then what made you think I need a pupu platter?” I threw the wrapper on the table with a very unsatisfying flutter.

  “Because either there’s a nugget of truth in there and I knew you’d be upset about whatever responsibility you thought you had, or someone’s spreading lies about Eclipse and you’d be upset about that.”

  “But maybe I haven’t heard anything and didn’t know . . . okay, never mind,” I finished when she laughed at me. Finally, our drinks arrived.

  “Platter will be right out,” the server said and moved on to a booth newly packed with a family of six.

  “So what happened?” Angie asked.

  “Kinda both. I was patrolling and heard someone scream. When I tracked it, I found what sounded like a scuffle between a guy and a woman.” I thought back, but it had gotten jumbled. “I don’t know. Crying, a deep, harsh voice, something that sounded like a slap and a belt buckle. I thought someone was about to get—” My throat tightened, but Angie nodded, getting it.

  “You were wrong?”

  “I don’t know how.” I dropped my elbows to the table and braced my forehead on my hands. “I jumped into the carport where I heard it, and it was just the Inalbis.” My voice dropped to a whisper on their name. “And I scared them so much, the old guy—Fran—had an attack and the old woman probably peed her pants. She couldn’t get his pills, so I helped do that and called nine-one-one.”

  “So it was a simple mistake.”

  I dropped my hands and stared at her. “Simple? The guy could have died.”

  “Which would have happened if a cat jumped out of the trash can. You didn’t do something malicious or thoughtless. You had good reason.”

  “But they didn’t know that.” I squeezed the lemon wedge into my water and sipped. “Though apparently they told Simon that Eclipse helped them and left out the part where they thought I was trying to rob them.”

  “So if they weren’t blaming you, why did that rumor start?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to say what I was thinking. It was paranoid, because it was natural for some people to think the worst. But Olive had been there. She hadn’t revealed how much she saw, but it had been enough for her to comment on things not going well. She could have been the one to start the rumor. But why? Because I hadn’t recognized her?

  “I think someone knows who I am,” I told Angie seconds before the pupu platter lowered between us, balanced by a big guy with bulging arms.

  “Thanks,” we said together, then again when he dropped a pile of napkins next to the food and set plates in front of each of us.

  “Enjoy, ladies.”

  Angie reached for a teriyaki skewer and I poured duck sauce onto my plate to dip an egg roll into.

  “Who knows you?” she prodded. “Did Simon figure it out?”

  I snorted. “After all this time, he wouldn’t put that together unless I gave him a really big clue. No, I don’t think you know her. This woman from elementary school.” I told her the rest of last night’s event and how Olive came into the library this morning. “She said she saw me last night and offered to talk, but then we kept getting interrupted so she left.”

  Angie frowned, ripping beef off her skewer with her teeth. After she chewed it, she said, “You think she could be the one who tried to say it was your fault?”

  “I don’t know why she would.” I dragged the last bite of egg roll through the sauce and ate it. My stomach already felt full. I didn’t think I’d be doing my share of damage to the platter.

  “Did you ever do anything else in elementary school to make her want to get back at you?”

  “That was twenty years ago!” I threw my hands up. “Even if I did, it seems ridiculous to come back to Pilton from Florida or wherever she was just for payback. I mean, if it were big enough to warrant that, I’d remember.” I wiggled, wondering if that were true. I wasn’t a bad kid, never deliberately hurt anyone, but that didn’t mean I was never thoughtless or said or did anything unintentionally mean.

  “I’m not saying she’s necessarily been harboring a grudge all these years. It’s just, what if seeing you triggered memories and she took the opportunity?”

  That made more sense. Dammit.

  “But to offer me friendship and then go behind my back?” I shook my head and wiped my hands on a napkin. “I think it must have been someone else.”

  “Maybe.” Angie chose a chicken wing and tilted her head to look around the flaming pot in the middle of the arrangement. “Aren’t you going to eat any of this?”

  I grabbed a fried shrimp just to keep her from nagging me. “Anyway, Eclipse might
be lying low for a little while.”

  “What are you going to do about Olive?”

  “Nothing. I’ll just see what she does next. I’m not talking out my regret with her, if that’s what she’s after.”

  “Good,” she said with a hint of rancor.

  “I don’t need to, because I have you,” I added, watching her lips twitch. “And even if I didn’t, there’s just something about all of this that bothers me. I’m staying as far away from the awkwardness as I can.”

  The word awkwardness reminded me of the other big news. “Ohmygod. Guess who else I met today?”

  Her eyebrows went up. “Who?”

  “Conn Parsons.”

  She choked on her chicken and dropped it to grab her water. “What? And you didn’t lead with that?”

  “You started it!” Suddenly hungry again, I ate the shrimp and spun the platter to scoop up a couple of crab rangoon.

  “So, what was he like? Do you think he’s the clothesline guy?”

  “He could be. He’s built similarly and seems strong enough. I mean, if he has super strength, too.” My vision blurred as I thought back to the way he handled things so carefully.