The Super Ladies

by Petrone, Susan

  Katherine made no pretense of hiding her disappointment. “We don’t all have to go.”

  “I mean, didn’t you ever wonder how Batman managed to get there just in the nick of time? He had to see the Bat Signal, go down to the cave, change, and drive the Batmobile into the city.”

  “And Bruce Wayne lived way out in some outer-ring suburb,” Margie added. “I always wondered how he got there in time to help too.”

  “Or Spider-Man or Superman. They lived in the city, but they had to go change their clothes before they responded to any emergency.”

  “First they had to find a place to change.”

  “Okay, fine. Maybe it wasn’t one of my best ideas,” Katherine admitted.

  There was a ping from one of their phones.

  “Mine’s off,” Abra said.

  Margie nodded. “Mine too.”

  The no-phone rule had always kept each of them emotionally and mentally present whenever they got together. It was a tangible way of demonstrating the value of their friendship. Certain exceptions had always applied for sick family members or other potential emergencies. Glancing down at her phone, Katherine saw the cute IcyU polar bear cub icon signaling she had a private message. “This could qualify as a potential emergency,” she said to the others as she checked the message.

  The message was from someone named Sandra C., who followed the Super Ladies on IcyU. Her profile read, “Parent, sister, daughter, friend. Always love you til the end.” The message read, “Hey Super Ladys! My ex is bringing my kids back from visitation on Sunday. He has a temper. Can you come hang w me till he leaves?”

  Katherine read it aloud to Abra and Margie, then handed her phone to them so they could see for themselves. Margie raised an eyebrow.

  “Or maybe it was a good idea. There’s clearly a need,” Katherine added, addressing Abra directly.

  “I can see that.”

  “I’m going,” Katherine said. Not going, not responding to an actual request for help wasn’t a viable option.

  Abra nodded thoughtfully. “Like I said, it’s a good idea. I just don’t know how practical it will be in the long run.”

  Katherine smiled at Abra. “We’ll deal with the long run in the long run. See you Sunday afternoon? Sandra C. put her address in at the bottom of the message.”

  “Duty calls. I’ll be there.”

  IC_SandraC. posted: “First time in a long time I’m not worried.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  On Sunday afternoon, Abra was on her front porch, reading about quitclaim deeds on her phone while she waited for Margie and Katherine. When Richard first moved out, she had taken a wait-and-see approach to the separation, hoping it might not be permanent even though she knew it was. She had gone against her better instincts with Richard. The night they met seven years earlier, he had seemed funny and cute and wholly unsuited for her. Still, she’d allowed herself the fantasy that not only do opposites attract, they can live happily ever after together. Richard didn’t put her into severe debt to break up their relationship. He put her into severe debt because it never occurred to him that such a thing might be a bad idea.

  At a gut level, Abra knew they were both better off apart. She just wished the knowledge hadn’t been so expensive. One thing she hadn’t thought about was the house. Richard’s name was still on the deed. Up until now, she hadn’t done anything to remove it. Margie offered to help. Borrowing a few pro bono minutes of her lawyer husband’s time to get and file a quitclaim deed would be a huge help.

  When Margie pulled into her driveway, Katherine was already in the front passenger seat, looking as excited as a kid going to a picnic. “Hop into the Super Lady Mobile,” she chirped.

  “I believe the proper name for this vehicle is the Estro-van,” Margie said as Abra got in. Katherine erupted into giggles. “It’s probably a good thing I drove today. Katherine is losing it.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Abra was in the backseat, pulling the sliding door closed. “You do realize this is potentially serious,” she said.

  “Yes, but Estro-van…” Katherine stammered and snorted back a laugh.

  Abra waited for Katherine to calm down before she talked to Margie about getting Karl to help her with the quitclaim deed. It was a quick twenty-minute car ride down Cedar Hill and past the University Circle neighborhood to Sandra C.’s house in Cleveland’s Hough neighborhood. As they headed west on Chester Avenue, Abra couldn’t help but glance across the street to the block where they had stopped and helped Janelle. Clearly she wasn’t the only one thinking about her. “I wonder how Janelle is doing,” Katherine mused.

  “I hope she’s okay and away from Sean,” Margie said, taking a right on East 68th Street.

  “Me too,” Abra said quietly.

  “I’m gonna see if I can get in touch with her,” Katherine said.

  “One damsel in distress at a time,” Margie interjected. “What’s our plan today?”

  “Why are you both looking at me?”

  “It was your idea,” Abra said.

  “We may not need to do anything. Just having some witnesses there may be enough to keep her ex’s temper in check.”

  “Or set him off.”

  “Let’s just go in and be a quiet presence. We don’t even have to be in the same room—we can wait in the kitchen or something. Then if he gets violent, we’ll be right there.”

  I wish I had your confidence, Abra thought, but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t feeling scared as much as nervous. Wasn’t it kind of weird to have a trio of strangers sitting in your house when your ex dropped off your kids? She didn’t have long to worry about it. Margie turned down a side street, and Katherine said, “There it is. She lives on the second floor.”

  The house was an old up-and-down double that looked like it was built in the twenties. The white and dark brown paint was peeling in spots, but the tiny fenced-in front yard was neat if a little sparse. Margie parked the van on the street, and they all sat for a minute, staring at the house.

  “Why don’t you text her and let her know we’re here?” Abra offered. If Sandra C. had changed her mind about wanting backup, it would be less embarrassing for all concerned to hear it via text than standing at her front door. Instead of texting back, Sandra C. stepped out onto the front porch and waved.

  “Um, does anyone else feel uncomfortable?” Margie asked.

  “Yes,” Abra replied, glad somebody else felt that way.

  “Okay, maybe it’s a little more awkward than I thought,” Katherine said. “Let’s just be here for her.”

  “Maybe we ought to wait outside,” Margie suggested.

  “That’s a good idea,” Abra added. “Frankly, I’m not sure what I can do to help.”

  “Me either,” Margie said.

  “We’ll think of something. Maybe we won’t have to do anything,” Katherine added as she put on her red cat-eye reading glasses with the daisies on them. “In the meantime, we should wear these.”

  “I brought mine,” Margie said, putting on the toadstool glasses.

  “I don’t need them,” Abra said and went invisible.

  “Well, we do,” Katherine said in her best teacher voice. “Superheroes are supposed to be anonymous.”

  “I’m not sure you could call us superheroes.”

  Katherine managed to look Abra directly in the eye. “Says the woman who is currently invisible.”

  “You wouldn’t know if I was wearing them anyway,” she said. She shoved her purse under the backseat but slipped her phone into the back waistband of her yoga pants. There might be a patch of fabric visible, but she hoped it wouldn’t be too noticeable.

  Sandra was still standing on the front porch, waiting, so Abra followed Katherine and Margie out of the van. As they introduced themselves, Sandra asked, “Is Shadow here too?”


  “She’s around,” Katherine replied.

  “We were thinking we’d just wait here on the front porch,” Margie said. “Then we’re here if you need us.”

  Sandra was small, dark-skinned, and about her own height, Abra thought, only with a slightly heavier build. Sandra was also the only one who didn’t seem to think it odd to invite three strangers over to her house to protect her.

  Abra stayed in the background, invisible and silent. It gave her a chance to check out the lay of the land, noting the huge crack in the second step on the concrete porch stairs and how the gate latched in the chain-link fence that surrounded the tiny front yard. Leaning against the porch railing gave her a clear view of everything but kept her out of the way so no one would accidentally bump into her. Nothing to do now but wait.

  ⍟ ⍟ ⍟

  The porch had one worn bench that looked like it might have come out of an old church. Margie and Katherine sat down, slightly uncomfortable smiles on their faces. Margie still wasn’t sure what good she might do. Sandra kept making polite small talk, but her face was drawn. When a slightly beat-up, dark green SUV pulled into the driveway, Margie saw her tense up. If fear was the first reaction, this ex had to be pretty bad. Margie couldn’t imagine not being happy to see your kids.

  A boy who looked to be about Grant’s age got out of the front passenger seat, and a girl who was perhaps eight or nine got out of the backseat. Both children moved deliberately, as though they had been told not to run or act up and were on their best behavior. The ex got out of the car last. The one inescapable fact about him was his size. Margie judged he was probably about Eli’s height but easily a hundred pounds heavier. At one time it might have been all muscle, now he was just chunky. Compared to the diminutive Sandra C., he was huge. No wonder she was afraid of him.

  “Hi, Mommy!” the little girl cried. She ran up the steps and gave Sandra a hug, followed more staidly by her brother. Sandra hugged them both and then faced her ex, one arm around each child.

  “Hello, James,” she said in a neutral voice.

  “Hey,” he said in a clipped voice. “I see you got company.”

  “Just a couple of old friends,” she stammered.

  Margie realized that Sandra didn’t know their real names. Introducing herself as “The Schvitz” might not go over too well, so she gave a little wave and said, “Hi.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Katherine said.

  “I know everybody you know,” said James. His voice was slow and deliberate, but he looked peeved and suspicious. If it’s possible to track the trajectory of a relationship from one simple encounter, this was it. Margie heard what was probably a decade’s worth of jealousy and mistrust in those five words. At that moment, she knew there would be trouble. Maybe it would have been better if they weren’t there. Or maybe James would have found something else to set him off. It seemed that Sandra was safe as long as they were there.

  “Did you all have a good time this weekend?” Sandra asked the children brightly.

  The kids answered in a subdued chorus of “Yes.” James just said, “We always do.”

  “Let’s get you two inside, and I’ll start thinking about dinner.” Sandra opened the door, and the two children obediently went in. Margie could just hear the faint sound of their feet running upstairs to the second-floor apartment. It made the house seem flimsy, as though the whole thing could topple over at any moment.

  “I’ll be going then,” James said. He stayed where he was for a moment, staring at Sandra. His eyes fell briefly on Margie and Katherine, then he turned, walked back to his SUV, got in, and drove away.

  After his car was out of sight, Sandra turned to Margie and Katherine. There was just the hint of a tear in her eye. “Thank you for being here. He’s never left so quickly.”

  Katherine stood up, saying, “We were glad to be here if it helped. We’ll get out of your hair now.”

  “Do you want us to stick around?” Margie asked. She didn’t know much about this woman, just that she had been divorced for less than a year and worked at a daycare. Sandra gave a little smile, and it was as though she was laying out all the frustration and fear and uncertainty in her life.

  “I’ve already bothered you enough,” Sandra said. “He’s gone. We’ll be okay.”

  “Are you sure?” Katherine asked. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”

  Margie almost asked if they could buy Sandra and her kids dinner, but that seemed too forward, too much like offering charity. Instead, she and Katherine said their goodbyes and walked back to the minivan. As Margie started the engine, she had a nagging feeling she was forgetting something, that something was off. Nevertheless, she drove away. They had gone a couple blocks and just turned back onto Chester Avenue when Katherine’s phone pinged with a text message.

  “He’s back,” she read, sounding momentarily confused. “Oh shit!”

  “Abra,” Margie said. How had Abra not gotten into the car with them? How had they forgotten to check?

  “She must have stayed on purpose.”

  “Smart woman,” Margie said, speeding up. At the next intersection, she made an illegal U-turn and sped back toward Sandra’s house.

  ⍟ ⍟ ⍟

  Katherine was out of the car even before the van had come to a complete stop. She didn’t bother with the gate but easily hurdled the fence, jumped the steps to the porch, and ran up the narrow wooden staircase to the second floor. The door at the top of the stairs was open, leading to an open living room with almost no furniture, just an old sofa that looked older than she was. In the next room, she spied a wooden table with three metal folding chairs around it. The dining room had built-in cabinets and a window seat. It had all the makings of a nice house, but there were no dishes or plates in the cabinets. And by the window seat was a man trying to hit his ex-wife.

  Sandra was huddled in the corner of the window seat, her face a mixture of fear and shock. James pulled an arm back to slap her, but something unseen stopped him from swinging. It happened three times in a row. Each time, James would shake his arm and look over his shoulder as though trying to figure out who or what was staying his arm. Katherine knew Abra was strong, but she couldn’t keep this up forever. They needed to find a better way to stop him.

  “Leave her alone,” Katherine said. She drew herself up to her full height, knowing that the crazy red-with-daisies cat-eye reading glasses probably did not inspire fear.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Indestructa. And I see you’ve already met Shadow.”

  “Who?” James said. She hoped the distraction of conversation would help quell his anger.

  “Shadow. She’s invisible. She’s been keeping you from hitting Sandra.” James spun around and took a swing at the air behind him. Katherine admired Abra’s self-control. She would have been tempted to giggle, but Abra remained silent, not giving away her whereabouts. “We’re going to lay out some ground rules. You no longer come into this house unless you are invited by Sandra. You will not harm her or the children…”

  James cleared the distance between him and Katherine in just a few steps. “I have never hurt my children,” he hissed.

  “Good. Don’t hurt their mother either.” James’s arm twitched. Up close she could see just what an impressively large human being he was. No fear, she thought. “Bring it,” she said aloud as she brought up one arm to block his hand. James only seemed to have one move, the side-arm slap that he was using, or tried to use, on Sandra. Katherine’s hand caught his. For a moment, it was an arm-wrestling match in midair as their hands pushed against each other. It kind of felt like playing with Billy back when they were kids, except her big brother had always been stronger than she was. Whenever Billy got bored with the pushing game, he used to pull down on Katherine’s arm, twist it behind her back, and make her say something like “Billy is the boss” or “Katheri
ne smells like poop.”

  Katherine didn’t make James say anything when she twisted his arm behind his considerable back. “Never hit her again,” she said slowly. For a second, James was silent. “I’m going to let you go,” she said and relaxed her grip. He twisted, throwing Katherine off-balance and onto the floor. She ducked out of the way of another side-arm slap. He really does only have one move, she thought as she scrambled to her feet. The next time he tried it, she grabbed his arm and again twisted it behind his back, only this time she was sure to use her left hand to push down on the back of his neck, bending him forward slightly and giving him two pressure points to fight instead of one. “Déjà vu,” she said brightly. This time when he tried to twist and throw her off, she was ready and held him in place. “Now, take a deep breath,” she said. He did so. “Let’s try this again. I’m going to let you go. This is done.” Warily, she let go of his arm and his neck, resisting the urge to push him as she did so. He’s a human being; treat him with respect, she thought. When she first started teaching, she made the mistake of assuming that bad behavior was the default. She soon learned that most students would respond appropriately if you treated them like rational beings. Why not try it here?

  James turned and faced her, straightening up and smoothing out his extra-long, short-sleeved button-down shirt, as though doing so would restore his dignity. He raised his chin slightly. “You say it’s done. What if I say it isn’t done?”

  Sandra gave a little gasp. “Be careful. He keeps a gun in his car,” she warned.

  James gave Sandra a cutting look. Katherine had her eyes fixed on James, just in case. She didn’t notice Margie standing by the door to the front stairs until Margie said, “No, he doesn’t. Not anymore.”

  “You steal my gun?”