by Lucas Flint
“That’s trickier,” said Dad. “How urgently do they need your help?”
“Very urgently,” I said. “Like, they will die if you don’t help them.”
“Then you should obviously help them,” said Mom. “It’s the right thing to do even if it doesn’t make business sense.”
“Perhaps, but surely they could go to some other superhero for help, if they really needed it?” said Dad. “Like one whose rates are more affordable?”
“Jackson, that’s a cruel thing to say,” said Mom. “Some people are too poor to afford any sort of help, but that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve as much help as anyone else.”
“I agree, but that sort of thing can quickly snowball if you’re not careful,” said Dad. “What if word spreads and you suddenly have loads of people trying to get you to help them for free? You can’t run a business on free alone. You’d go bankrupt eventually and then you wouldn’t be able to help anyone. It’s less about cruelty and more about prudence.”
“No one says it has to be a long-term strategy,” said Mom, her voice slightly annoyed. “It could just be a short-term tactic just to be charitable, even if it doesn’t lead to an immediate payoff.”
“True, but you still need to be careful,” said Dad. He looked at me suddenly. “What caused you to start thinking about this, Alex? Did something happen at work recently to make you think about it?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “I’ve just been thinking more about superheroes and stuff since I started working for Rubberman. It’s just a question that came to me. I didn’t expect you guys to have an answer.”
In truth, though, I was more confused than ever. I thought both Mom and Dad made good points, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Dad’s attitude was wrong. I couldn’t see myself turning away an innocent person who needed my help even if they couldn’t pay me. It just left a bad feeling in my stomach, yet if Fro-Zen had told me the truth, then Rubberman had done that at least once before in the past to disastrous results.
“Well, it’s good that you’re thinking about these questions,” said Mom. “It shows you’re thinking, and there are too many people in this world who don’t think at all.” She shook her head. “Including that wicked Fro-Zen man. If he was thinking, I’m sure he would never have become a villain and tried to kill Rubberman like that.”
I bit my lower lip. I put down my fork and knife and stood up. “I think I’m going to ride my bike around.”
“But you haven’t finished your breakfast yet,” said Mom. “Sit down and eat.”
“Nah, it’s fine, I’m not really that hungry,” I said, shrugging off Mom’s hand. “I just need to go and get some exercise to clear my head.”
Before Mom or Dad could ask me about that, I turned and left the kitchen. I was out of the house in less than ten seconds and on my bike in five. I had no particular destination in mind; I was just going to bike all day and hope that some kind of answer to these questions plaguing me would come to me while I was in motion. Or maybe until I got so tired from biking that I didn’t have to think about these questions anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY
On Monday after school, I went straight to the Elastic Cave as usual. Frank tried to stop me, asking if I could come over to his place to help him with his math homework, but I had to tell him that I had to get home. I also passed Greta as she stood outside the school talking to some of her friends, of course, but I didn’t talk to her, although I thought I caught her smiling at me as I biked by her. Maybe that was just my imagination.
In any case, when I went down to Level One of the Elastic Cave and exited the elevator, I saw someone who I didn’t expect to see down here in a while: Rubberman. He was sitting in front of the Control System, apparently staring at the dozen or so monitors that showed news reports from various news stations. I didn’t pay attention to the monitors, though, because I was so shocked to see Rubberman back here already.
“Rubberman?” I said, staring at him in surprise. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to get out of the hospital for weeks.”
Rubberman turned off the monitors (which I noticed mostly featured reports on Fro-Zen) and turned around to face me, his chair rotating with him. He looked okay, but his skin was paler than normal and he looked like he didn’t get as much sleep as he normally did. I wondered if he had gotten much sleep last night.
“Oh, hi, Alex,” said Rubberman, waving at me. “Glad to see you’re on time. How was your weekend?”
“Uh, great,” I said. “But you didn’t answer my question about what you’re doing here.”
“The smart answer is that this is my base, so of course I should be here,” said Rubberman. “But the honest answer is that I healed up quicker than the doctors expected me to. I’m still not fully well, but as long as I don’t overexert myself, I should be okay.”
“How did you heal up so quickly?” I said. “You were half-frozen, weren’t you?”
“Yes, but what most people don’t know is that I have a minor healing factor,” said Rubberman. He patted his chest. “It’s not strong enough to heal decapitated limbs, of course, but it can heal things like damage from frostbite very quickly. I just have to rest for a while in order for it to work.”
“I didn’t know you had a healing factor,” I said.
“Few do,” said Rubberman. “It’s generally an ability I don’t like to advertise because it gives me an edge over my enemies. If I told everyone about that power, it would make my job that much more difficult.”
“I see,” I said. I looked around. “Where’s Adams?”
“Grocery shopping,” said Rubberman, “plus running a few other errands in town. He’ll be back soon, but until then, it’s just you and me.”
“Okay,” I said, although I wasn’t very enthusiastic about that.
Rubberman must have heard my lack of enthusiasm, because he frowned and said, “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to get started on your training again?”
“Yeah, I do,” I said. “It’s just … never mind. I just didn’t sleep very well over the weekend. Been too busy with schoolwork and stuff.”
Yeah, that was a lie, but I had no idea what Rubberman would do or say if I told him about my meeting with Fro-Zen. I didn’t think he’d get that angry, but at the same time, I couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t just fire me for talking with Fro-Zen like that. Or maybe he’d punish me some other way. I don’t know. I was still thinking about what Fro-Zen had told me and I just didn’t know how to handle it.
Rubberman, apparently, didn’t catch my lie, because he nodded and said, “I understand. Kids these days just get too much schoolwork. Too much testing and not enough teaching, or that’s what my teacher friends keep telling me. And based on my observations of kids your age, I have no reason to disbelieve them.”
“Yeah, homework sucks,” I said. “Now, can we get started on my training? Please?”
“Okay,” said Rubberman. He slowly rose from his chair, but then winced and grabbed his side. “Ow.”
“Are you okay?” I said. “You look like you’re in pain.”
“Like I said, I’m not entirely healed yet, so I still suffer from some pain,” said Rubberman. “It’s nothing serious, though, so don’t you worry about it. You just get your costume on and we will meet in the Rubber Room in five minutes.”
I nodded and ran over to my room. It didn’t take me long to switch out of my normal clothes and don my Beams costume. I have to admit, though, that I didn’t put it on as eagerly as I normally did. Probably because I didn’t know if I could trust Rubberman or not; if he was as corrupt and greedy as Fro-Zen said he was, then I wondered if I was contributing to that corruption and greed by working for him. I still had Fro-Zen’s phone number in the pocket of my jeans, but I hadn’t looked at it since I got home that night. I hadn’t told anyone about it, either, because I wasn’t sure if it would help Rubberman or the police capture Fro-Zen. I wasn’t even sure that I wanted Fro-Zen captured; i
f everything he said was true, then it would be wrong of me to help the police or Rubberman put him behind bars.
Once my suit and helmet were on, I stepped out of my room and made my way to the Rubber Room’s door. Opening it, I found that Rubberman was already inside and had already set up a target for me to shoot. He turned to look at me when I entered, a smile on his face when he saw me.
“You got that on quickly,” said Rubberman. “Can’t wait to start, huh?”
I nodded, albeit not very enthusiastically. “Yeah. I’m getting better at controlling my powers.”
“I know,” said Rubberman. “That’s what Adams has told me. He said that your training is coming along well. I imagine that you will soon be ready to join me in fighting criminals and supervillains on the streets.”
“Really?” I said. That made me feel a bit better. “Do you know for sure when I’ll be able to help you fight them?”
“Not yet,” said Rubberman, shaking his head. “But if you keep advancing at this rate, then it won’t be long before we’re both out on the streets fighting criminals and supervillains side by side. Of course, we’re going to need to plan your debut first.”
“My debut?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, I forgot,” said Rubberman. He pointed at me. “I haven’t explained to you, but a ‘debut’ is the term we superheroes use to describe our first public appearance. We also use it to describe the first public appearances of our sidekicks.”
“Why do I need a debut?” I said. “Why not just have me go out and stop some criminal and let everyone see me? Don’t you think that would be good enough?”
“That’s one way to do it, but it’s always better to plan out your debut,” said Rubberman. “First impressions matter, especially when it comes to making deals for merchandise.”
I couldn’t help but think about what Fro-Zen told me on Saturday, about how Rubberman only cared about money rather than doing the right thing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that if you don’t make a good first impression, that will make it harder for me to make merch off you,” said Rubberman. “If you come across as unlikeable or bad, then most companies will be reluctant to make merch based off you.”
“Will I get paid any royalties or anything if merch is made off of me?” I said in a reluctant voice.
“Yes,” said Rubberman, nodding. “It’s part of the laws regulating sidekicks. Sidekicks get a portion of every licensing deal; the exact amount varies, but it can’t be any less than ten percent.”
“You mean I could earn more money in addition to minimum wage?” I said in surprise.
“Sure,” said Rubberman, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “Now do you understand why I am so interested in making merchandising deals? And what other minimum wage job even allows for the possibility of making some extra cash off these kind of licensing deals like this one? Makes me wish I’d been a sidekick when I was your age.”
“Cool,” I said. But then I remembered what Fro-Zen said and I frowned. “But does any of this really matter? I mean, as long as I can make Golden City a safer place, does it matter if I have action figures and stuff based off of me?”
Rubberman’s smile vanished as abruptly as if it had never been there at all. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I said, looking down at my feet because I didn’t like the way Rubberman looked at me, “shouldn’t we do the right thing even if it won’t make us a lot of money or any money at all? What if some supervillain or criminal attacks the city and you don’t let me help stop him just because it might not fit into your business plans?”
“Well, I suppose in an emergency like that, sure, I would take you with me to deal with it,” said Rubberman. “But you have to understand that we’re a business. And in a business, money generally comes first. Otherwise, you don’t stay in business very long. Ask me how I know.”
I looked up at Rubberman again. “So money comes first, even above innocent lives? If there wasn’t any money to be made in this business, would you still try to protect people?”
Rubberman tilted his head to the side, a quizzical expression on his face. “Alex, is there a reason you’re asking these questions? Did something happen over the weekend to make you think about this stuff?”
“No,” I said, although I didn’t sound convincing even to myself; still, I couldn’t let Rubberman know that I had been in contact with Fro-Zen. “I was just thinking about how superheroes are always seen as selfless heroes who sacrifice for the greater good. That’s what we do, right?”
Okay, I was pretty sure that Rubberman saw through my lie, but thankfully, he said, in a measured voice, as if he was carefully considering every word, “Yes, of course. There are many other lucrative businesses that don’t require that you put your own life in danger every now and then or that you fight lunatics and the scum of society. It isn’t like I do this just for money, after all, although the money is nice.”
I felt relieved to hear that Rubberman didn’t do this just for money, but at the same time, I still remembered what Fro-Zen said about how corrupt the entire superhero industry was. And I wondered whether Rubberman was just saying that to make me feel better or if he actually meant it.
Regardless, I said, “All right. Well, let’s get started. I’m ready to jump back into training now.”
Rubberman’s smile returned. “Awesome. That’s exactly what I want to hear. That’s what I like about you, Alex. You’re always ready to start.”
I nodded and smiled in return, but deep down, my worries and concerns were still there. But I didn’t know how to deal with them, so I just ignored them for now in order to focus on my training. Maybe I would think more about them later on, when I went home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The rest of the week was pretty uneventful, all things considered. I woke up, went to school, went to work, and then went home, only to repeat that same schedule the next day. I actually liked it; given how stressful the prior week had been, I was not in any mood to deal with any more stress.
My skills improved considerably. By Thursday, I had so much control over my eye beams that Rubberman even began to teach me the basics of fisticuffs. He told me that I would not be able to defeat all my enemies with my eye beams, so I would need to know other ways to defend myself if necessary. I actually enjoyed learning hand-to-hand fighting even more than learning how to shoot eye beams, although we didn’t spend as much time on it as I would have liked. Still, Rubberman told me that we would do more in depth hand-to-hand training next week. He also mentioned something about teaching me how to use weapons, which was odd because I didn’t know Rubberman had any weapons, but he said he’d tell me more about that later if necessary.
Training wasn’t the only thing we did. Rubberman also introduced me to the Control System, teaching me how to use it and how to sift through all of the information to find relevant news. It was pretty complicated, but I figured I would get a hold of it eventually. He wanted me to learn how to use it so I could know how to use it to contact him or other people, as well as having me take over the duties of monitoring the news for any interesting or recent developments that could affect us. He did tell me, however, that I was not to use the System’s call feature to call random people, like friends or family; it was only supposed to be used for business and for business purposes alone. I understood and didn’t find any reason to argue against it; it wasn’t like I ever called anyone anyway.
There was no news of Fro-Zen over the week, either. He did not attack the Park or anywhere else, although the police still had a warrant out for him and kept reminding the citizens to keep an eye out for him. Fro-Zen didn’t try to contact me, either, which I was thankful for, because I didn’t like talking with him. Rubberman didn’t talk much about Fro-Zen, but I knew that he was still keeping on top of all of the most recent news regarding his former sidekick; from what I could tell, Rubberman seemed to feel responsible for Fro-Zen. Maybe he felt t
errible that he had failed to defeat Fro-Zen; in any case, I was also curious about Fro-Zen’s disappearance. Maybe he was waiting for the right opportunity to attack Rubberman, but somehow that seemed unlikely to me. And even if he was, that didn’t mean he would ever get a chance, because Rubberman had taken extra precautions to keep himself safe.
Speaking of Fro-Zen, Rubberman’s injuries seemed to be healing just fine. He eventually only had to deal with a minor pain in his side, but he told me that he would be able to ignore it and that it wasn’t a big problem anymore. I was glad to hear that, because I felt pretty vulnerable while Rubberman was injured. Still, it just confused me more; why had Fro-Zen not attacked the hospital while Rubberman was defenseless? Perhaps Fro-Zen didn’t want to put the lives of innocent people in danger, although given how he held those elementary school students hostage four years ago, I doubted that.
I also still thought about what Fro-Zen told me back on Saturday night. I tried not to, but it was impossible. Fro-Zen’s words were etched in my mind like stone; even though Rubberman had assured me that he was not in this just for the money, I still didn’t feel happy with that explanation. I didn’t think Rubberman was lying, but somehow his explanation just didn’t work for me. I didn’t know why, but it just didn’t.
But on Thursday, I managed to push such thoughts out of my mind, because today was my very first pay day. The day before, Rubberman had told me that he would give me my check as soon as I got to the Elastic Cave. That made sitting through school agonizingly difficult; I barely paid attention to Mr. Peters’ lessons, which earned me a reprimand and probably knocked a few points off my overall grade level, but I didn’t care. I did note, however, that Mr. Peters was still our teacher, even though it had already been a week since he began substituting for Mrs. Naomi. He told us that that was because Mrs. Naomi had gotten into a terrible car accident while visiting her relatives in North Dakota and would not be out of the hospital for a month, so Mr. Peters was going to remain our science teacher for the foreseeable future. Can’t say I was happy about that news, but I was so looking forward to getting my first paycheck that I didn’t let it get me down.