The Masked Family

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  And then he gave way, too, diving into darkness.

  *****

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Lilly, Pennsylvania, 2006

  "I'm dying!" Paisley's face was beet red as she twisted and writhed in the Toyota's passenger seat. Her black hair was drenched with sweat, plastered to the headrest instead of flying around wild. "Oh God, it's killing me!"

  While her sister melted down, Celeste felt like she had lost her own grip long ago. She'd been following a trail left by Cary, and it had led her to Grogan, who should've been dead. Cary, who should've been alive at the end of the trail, was nowhere to be found.

  And Celeste was terrified to find out why.

  "Why couldn't he make it?" She didn't want to ask the question, especially when the man with the answer was some kind of insane Mexican wrestler...but she asked it anyway.

  "We should talk about this later, señorita," said El Yucatango. "Your sister needs our help."

  "Tell me now!"

  Everyone but Paisley looked at Celeste. Her sudden outburst, which had briefly exceeded Paisley's screams, had surprised even her.

  She followed it with another, just as loud. "Why isn't Cary here?"

  El Yucatango gazed into her eyes and sighed. "You already know the answer to that, don't you?"

  Celeste held his gaze another moment. Then, she let go of his arm and turned away from him.

  El Yucatango had been right. She knew the answer.

  She didn't need him to say it.

  Paisley, on the other hand, needed help of the life-and-death kind. She needed it now.

  It was time for Celeste to get in step with the rest of the family, who were already rallying around Paisley.

  "Ambulance is on the way," said Baron, snapping his cell phone shut after making a call. "Looks like fifteen minutes at the most."

  Paisley grunted. "I'll be long dead by then!" Suddenly, she had a jolt and jerked her leg up, cracking her knee on the dash. Even with the passenger seat fully reclined, she didn't have enough room to move freely.

  "Try to relax, honey." E.Q. sat in the driver's seat and stroked her sweat-soaked hair. "Take deep breaths."

  "BAROOO!" Pretzel, who was still in the back seat, stuffed his snout under E.Q.'s arm and gave Paisley's ear a long, wet lick.

  "Somebody shoot that fucking dog!" said Paisley.

  E.Q. smiled at Glo and Late, who stood just inside the open car door. "Sorry, kids. She's not herself right now."

  "Actually, she kinda is," said Baron as he hauled Pretzel out of the car.

  "I heard that, fuck-man!" said Paisley. Then, she launched into a run of piercing shrieks.

  When the shrieking died down, she slumped against the seat. "I can't take this pain," she said, tossing her head from side to side. "I just want it to stop."

  It was then that Glo stepped forward. "I can help," she said. "If you'll let me."

  "Oh God," said Paisley. "Who let this kid in here?"

  "Don't worry." Glo smiled and put a hand on Paisley's belly. "The Nuclear Family takes care of its own."

  Paisley frowned. "Where'd you hear that one?"

  "Shh." Glo touched a finger to her lips. "It's a secret."

  Paisley watched her for a moment, then winced and clenched her teeth. "Aw, geez." The cords in her neck stood out as she jammed her head against the headrest and arched her back. "Here comes another one."

  "I feel it." Glo kept her hand on Paisley's belly and closed her eyes. "It's not so big, though."

  "Yes it fucking is!" said Paisley.

  Just then, Celeste decided it was time for the kids to give Paisley some space. "Okay," she said, stepping in and touching Late's shoulder. "Come on, guys."

  It was at that exact moment that Paisley suddenly relaxed.

  Her body, which had been arched and tense as a bowstring ready to fire, went limp. Her head, which had been crushed into the headrest, lolled to one side. Her face, which had been screwed into an agonized scowl, went slack.

  Her eyes, which had been pinched tightly shut as the waves of pain had ripped through her, fluttered open as if she'd just awakened from a nap.

  "Oh my God." The rage and pain were gone from Paisley's voice. She stared at Glo. "Did you do that?"

  Glo nodded and smiled.

  Paisley shook her head. "What? Did you give me something? Meds or something?"

  Glo shrugged. "It's my super-power. But you have to promise you won't tell anyone."

  "Deal," said Paisley.

  "I have powers, too," said Late. "Watch this!"

  "No, Nate." Glo's voice was stern. "Not now."

  Late rolled his eyes and scuffed his toe in the mud. "No fair," he said. "You always get to use yours."

  "I wish I didn't have to." Glo pressed the fingertips of her free hand to Paisley's forehead. "Here. Don't be afraid."

  Late pushed in closer and stared at Paisley. "Are you dying?"

  "I sure hope not." Paisley smiled. She seemed to be completely relaxed.

  "You're one of the ones who never came to visit," said Late.

  Paisley returned his stare. "I guess I am," she said.

  "Cary told us about you." Late nodded and leaned against the door frame. "The last time Glo used her power was to make him feel better. You know, when he was..."

  "Shut up, Nate," said Glo.

  But Late didn't have to finish his sentence. Celeste already knew what he was going to say about Cary.

  *****

  Chapter Sixty

  Puerto Peñasco, Mexico, 2006

  Cary was surprised when he opened his eyes.

  The first thing he saw was the grinning face of El Yucatango looking down at him...and for the first time, El Yucatango wasn't wearing a mask.

  It was like looking at a different person. It wasn't that El Yucatango was strikingly handsome or shockingly deformed, but the mask had been so ever-present, it had become part of his face.

  Without the mask, he just didn't seem right. That was how it always was with super-heroes, though.

  They were all about the mystery.

  "Sleeping beauty wakes!" El Yucatango had a short, flat nose and round cheeks. There was a birthmark right between his eyes, like the jewel of an Indian swami. "Hola, lazybones!"

  Cary tried to smile. That was when he realized something other than El Yucatango was different.

  His lips were numb, as if the dentist had just given him a huge shot of novocaine. He wasn't really sure if he'd smiled or not.

  And his lips weren't the only parts of him that were numb. His whole face felt the same, and so did his arms and his hands and his legs.

  In fact, Cary couldn't find any part of him that wasn't numb.

  What's going on here?

  He tried to move his head to look at himself, but the best he could manage was a twitch. He tried to lift an arm, but the best he could do was flick a finger.

  He couldn't move his head or arms or legs. He could blink his eyes and swallow, and not much more. He could breathe, but not very well. Not only was he numb, but he was almost completely paralyzed.

  What's happened to me?

  El Yucatango must have seen the worry in his eyes. "Oye, Beacon," he said, the tone of his voice softening. "We sure gave that match a big finish, huh?"

  Suddenly, Cary's memories of the wrestling match rushed back to him. So did his memories of the fire.

  He remembered being trapped under the ring, surrounded by flames. He remembered being blasted by the fiery jet, screaming and falling.

  Then, the burning canvas collapsing on top of him. A blanket of flaming debris broiling his flesh. The deepest, most intense pain he'd ever experienced in his life.

  Nothing after that. The next thing he remembered was El Yucatango looking down at him without a mask, framed by a turquoise sky.

  "I'm back on top, Beacon." El Yucatango sounded excited again. "Not only did I defeat El Demonio del Diamante and reclaim my title as world champion, but I pulled his ass out of the fire!"

/>   "You...did?" Cary was having a hard time catching his breath and could only muster a weird, high-pitched whisper that didn't sound at all like his voice.

  "Sí." El Yucatango smiled proudly. His gold tooth glinted in the sunlight. "I also pulled out the ass of the man he was trying to save."

  "How...is he?" said Cary.

  "Pissing me off!" El Yucatango laughed. "Keeps talking about how El Demonio del Diamante saved his life! That damn Demonio's a hero again!"

  "Ha." Cary knew he couldn't smile, but he tried again anyway. Leave it to El Yucatango to make him want to laugh.

  Even when all he could think about was how awful things were.

  "Why can't I...feel?" he said.

  El Yucatango's bombast slipped. He looked away, cleared his throat, and turned back with restored vigor...but Cary could tell it was forced.

  "Thank your daughter." El Yucatango moved out of Cary's eyeshot, and Glo moved in.

  Glo with tears running down her face.

  "Did you know she has a power, Beacon?" said El Yucatango. "Power to take away your pain?"

  Cary's eyes met Glo's. His eyes burned, but tears wouldn't come. "She's never...needed a power...to do that."

  "Oh, Cary." Glo choked out a sob. Her eyes fluttered, and more tears poured down her face.

  Some of them landed right in Cary's eyes.

  "Where's...Late?" he said.

  "With Father Lovito," said Glo. "Yuca didn't want him to see..."

  "So, Beacon." El Yucatango pushed back into Cary's line of sight. "I was thinking about taking the kids on a road trip. Any ideas?"

  Cary knew what El Yucatango was really asking. He knew he wouldn't be going with them on their trip.

  He thought about it for a moment. "Lilly, Pennsylvania," he said finally, and then he gave El Yucatango the address of Grogan's trailer. "My foster brother lives there."

  "Super-hero?" said El Yucatango.

  "Not...exactly," said Cary. "But he's good at hiding."

  And hiding is exactly what you'll have to do with those kids if Drill and Crystal come looking.

  "He can get in touch...with my sister." Cary's breathing was steadily getting worse. "Celeste will know...what to do."

  El Yucatango winked. "So will I. Don't worry."

  "Muchas...gracias," said Cary.

  "De nada, super pal," said El Yucatango.

  "So." Cary took a long, shaky breath, then released it. "Am I...finally done...with the small thing...you wanted?"

  El Yucatango laughed. "I should have told you," he said. "You'll never be done."

  "Was that...on your rate card?" Cary felt a wave of bitter cold creep through him, starting with his feet.

  "It was in the fine print." El Yucatango looked at someone Cary couldn't see, then flicked his gaze back down to Cary. "What a super team-up we had, eh, Beacon?"

  Cary fought for another breath. "What's your rate...for not letting me die?"

  El Yucatango's eyes glistened. "Three meals a day."

  "Minus...the super-hero...discount?"

  "Por supuesto."

  Cary gasped for breath. The cold spread up through his midsection and into his chest.

  Tears ran down El Yucatango's face. He made the sign of the cross over Cary with one beefy hand.

  Something thick pushed up into Cary's throat, gagging him. He heard another voice chattering away in Spanish--Father Lovito's, he thought.

  El Yucatango sobbed and blubbered above him. "I will miss you, super-pal."

  Suddenly, Glo broke in. "Move, please."

  El Yucatango slid aside, and Glo pushed back into view. Cary thought she took his face in her hands, though he couldn't be sure.

  "One more thing I can do for you," she said softly. Tears ran down her face, but she was smiling at him.

  He thought she was beautiful. Her eyes sparkled, and her hair was tipped in sunlight.

  My daughter.

  "I love you," she said. "Now close your eyes."

  And he did.

  *****

  When he opened them again, he was jogging down a country road.

  It was a good, straight road, lined on both sides by ranks of birch trees. The pavement was damp and just springy enough to give his steps a little bounce.

  The air was cool, but not cold, with the smell of rain recently fallen. The rays of the early morning sun shimmered through the birch leaves overhead, mingling with the faint mist that lingered over the ferns. A stream trickled alongside the roadbed, dancing with gnats and skimmers.

  Cary combed his fingers through the blond racing-stripes in his red hair. He smiled and breathed deep. He couldn't quite guess where exactly he was, but it didn't matter.

  He felt happy.

  He continued to trot along, sneakers smacking the pavement, and just took it all in. It reminded him of other places long ago, and mornings much the same. No worries and nothing to do but run...not run after someone, not run away from someone, but just run.

  It was true that he'd forgotten how happy it made him just to run.

  Brimming with breath and beat and bounce, he felt so good he decided to sprint. How could he not cut loose on such a perfect morning, with birds singing and legs limber and not a cloud in the perfect blue sky?

  So he picked up the pace.

  At first, he just shifted from a trot to a gallop and held it there for a moment. When the gallop didn't leave him winded, he notched it up to a sprint, guessing he could make fifty or a hundred yards before he needed a rest.

  The funny thing was, he didn't need a rest. Not after fifty or a hundred or a mile. His breath came just as easily as when he'd been jogging, little more than walking fast.

  He was running full tilt, and he felt like he could do it forever.

  In fact, the more he ran, the more he felt he could run faster. Every footstep and beat of his heart seemed to energize him instead of wearing him down. It was as if his very movements charged a battery inside him, packing it with juice.

  How could he not tap into something like that on a morning like this?

  Cary pushed himself, and his body ran faster, exceeding the speed of his sprint. Soon, he was running faster even than that, faster than his limit on his best day ever.

  Leaves flew from tree branches in his wake. A rabbit crossing the road barely got out of his way in time.

  And still, Cary felt wonderful. He wasn't winded at all. There wasn't a bead of sweat on him.

  Grinning, he pushed himself harder and harder still.

  He moved so fast that the wind rushed in his ears. Gravel shot out from under his shoes like pellets from an air rifle. Road signs vibrated in his wake.

  When he was able to run even faster, he realized what had happened, and he laughed. He should've figured it out sooner.

  Finally. Finally, his powers had come to him.

  The road smoked and rippled underfoot. The scenery blurred and strobed.

  He danced past cars as if they were standing still. He ran across lakes and rivers as if they were solid, his feet moving too fast to sink. He vibrated his molecules at hyperspeed and ran through mountains and buildings as if they were tricks of the light.

  And then he ran faster.

  The force of his wake stripped the clothes off crowds of pedestrians on city streets. Bank robbers in mid-heist suddenly found themselves unarmed behind bars with no explanation. Merry-go-rounds spun like tops, and tops spun so fast they drilled straight through to China.

  "When you need your powers most, they will come to you," E.Q. had once told him.

  Though Cary had doubted that promise in times dark and perilous, it turned out E.Q. had spoken the truth.

  Here comes The Hurry!

  He ran so fast, he set off sonic booms and changed the weather. He broke the time barrier in both directions and witnessed all of human history. He was literally everywhere in the world at once, creating a new civilization of no one but himself that rose and fell in less than a minute.

  He lapped himself
running rings clockwise around the world...gave himself a high five on his way past.

  Then, he changed direction and hurtled into the west, chasing the sunset...moving so very fast that he became little more than a streak of color, a brushstroke of pink melting into the hazy pink and red and gold of the sunset itself.

  *****

  Epilogue

  Johnstown, Pennsylvania, One Year Later

  Is he going to show up or what?

  Though Celeste was the one who'd invited him, she really didn't know if he would come. She also wasn't sure if she wanted him to come.

  The odds were fifty-fifty, she guessed. Fifty-fifty that she wanted him to be there, and fifty-fifty that he would be there.

  Now, if she could just figure out what she'd say to him if he showed up.

  With a sigh, she let the curtain fall, turned away from E.Q.'s front window...and just about fell over the little boy hiding behind the chair.

  "Late!" she said, stepping around him.

  Late put a finger against his lips. "Shhh."

  Celeste nodded knowingly and touched a finger to her lips as well. Then, smiling, she headed for the kitchen.

  Paisley was icing a cake out there for the Halloween party. She looked up and grinned as Celeste walked in. "Not here yet?"

  My sister, the domestic goddess. Who would've thought?

  Celeste shook her head.

  "Pretty big step, Sis." Paisley's black hair, newly shortened, bobbed, and glossy, swung to one side when she shrugged and cocked her head. "Remember, when the china starts flying, I'm getting out of the way."

  Celeste laughed.

  Just then, E.Q. whisked into the room and gave Paisley a kiss on the cheek.

  It was good to see. E.Q. and Paisley had been alienated for so long, and now they were housemates and pals.

  Paisley had been living at E.Q.'s house since giving birth a year ago. Sometime during that year, she and E.Q. had smoothed things over and dumped the bullshit baggage of the past.