by H D Forth
“He was running around school bragging-” He started to say, but I interrupted him.
“Was it kind to take away his new bike?” I repeated.
The kid swallowed, “No.”
I nodded, looked him in the eye. “Do better next time.” I said.
I returned to the kid and gave him his bike back. “Remember to take good care of it. A new bike is expensive and your parents worked hard to buy it for you.” I told the little man and ruffled his hair.
He scrunched up his nose, but he was still all smiles. “That was soo cool! Youwereliekwooshwoosh!AndthenyouwerelikeBadoosh!Youslammedintotheground and and and,” HE struggled to lift the bike over his head, like he was holding a great trophy. “Itwasawesome!”
Above Average Heroic Deed:
Retrieve a stolen bike, and educate the thief.
Rewards: 100 Tessian Points and 15 Credits received.
“Thanks kid,” I said with a smile.
The kid frowned at me, for a moment before tentatively asking, “Why do you wear a sock over your head?”
Fucking Balaclava. I hope to got Kani can come up with something better.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
That kid really knew how to put a damper on my good cheer, I thought, striding away from the child and his bike. I shot a glance over my shoulder, seeing the kid riding around on his bicycle loudly making noises with his mouth. I smiled, then something else happened.
I smiled a little more, though it was muffled and hard to tell through the balaclava. That was a good reward for helping a kid, though that smile was almost just as good. If only it could put food on the table, then it would’ve been all I needed.
I continued patrolling the streets for a few more hours. Which was how I ended up next to this nice old grandmother. I had found her struggling to carry around four bags of groceries. Four.
***
"You should see them all so full of vigor and energy. They're almost like you. I remember the last time new heroes were swarming the street, though according to my timetable you're a little early young man! I can't be that old." She said, with a chuckle.
"Don't you worry Grandma Blueberry." She had insisted that I call her that. Apparently, she cooked a delicious blueberry pie, and her grandkids had started calling her Grandma Blueberry, now she wanted everyone to call her that. I thought it was very endearing and sweet, so I indulged her. "I can almost guarantee it. You don't look a day over 75!"
"Oooh!" She cried, faking a hurt look and holding a hand over her chest. "You young whippersnappers," Whippersnapper! She just casually said that! "Are always so quick with the comeback. I'll have you know that I am only 74, so don't you act like I'm some oldie that doesn't understand what's going on. I'm hip, I can get with ‘it'."
We both laughed when she finished talking. “Now tell me, confess in an old woman.” Grandma Blueberry said. “Something seems to be bothering you. What is it?”
I frowned and looked down at her. She looked up at me with a pair of crystal clear gray eyes. They caught a lot more than I had initially given her credit for. "I'm just thinking. I don't… I haven't spent a whole lot of time, doing hero work. I don't know if I'm doing it right. Shouldn't there be a gunpoint robbery I stop or someone to save? All I've done so far is help a kid get his bike back, helped a few elderly people cross the street, and an old woman getting her groceries home. It just doesn't seem that heroic to me."
The old woman smiled up at me and waved one gnarled finger in my face. Though age had obviously worn on her, she wasn't wasted away. She was obviously still quite robust, especially for someone in their mid-seventies. I had no doubt that I had I not helped, she would have carried her groceries home all by herself, and even I was starting to feel it.
They weren't too heavy, they were just painful to carry for extended periods. The Nerve Module had also installed a pain measure.
I had done some reading; apparently, the first subjects that didn't have a pain factor, started getting irrational and acting mad, sometimes you have to take the good with the bad. This time the bad was a little pain, and the good was not becoming insane. That was a trade I was happy to make.
"From my perspective, you look plenty more heroic than anyone else on this street." She gestured with the same gnarled finger towards the other people walking the street. "There is no real way about it. I've grown old, yet in my old age, only you came up to me and asked if I needed help carrying my groceries. Though you looked strange in your duster, weird hat, and winter gloves, it certainly was better than walking alone, and I am happy that I took the chance on you now. To me and certainly to that kid, you are a hero."
I smiled at her words, feeling encouraged. We walked amiably continuing to talk about her grandkids until we reached her apartment. She fumbled for her keys for a while, before letting me in and I helped her put the groceries into the fridge. She smiled and thanked me.
“Do see about getting a less suspicious looking costume for the future though.” She told him as he walked out of her apartment.
“I will.” I replied, “Thank you for the advice Grandma Blueberry.” I waved at her as I left.
I spent another hour randomly walking the neighborhood. I stopped when I noticed someone walking down the street, she had one of those picker-upper things. The ones you use to pick up trash without bending down. She was wearing a light brown set of coveralls and some work boots. Her red hair was gathered and stuffed into a cap.
I watched for a moment as she went about picking up trash from the street. Her actions made me look around. This time of day it was a lot less busy, there were still plenty of people walking about, but there were definitely fewer than when I had first gone out. I also noticed all the trash. The streets weren't piled with huge bags of junk, but there was enough little stuff that the area she had passed was noticeably different than where I was standing.
I made sure to scuff my boots on the sidewalk as I approached her. She turned towards me, startling when she saw my mask. She couldn't be much older than I was, maybe late twenties, early thirties. She looked at me warily and held a hand over her heart. “You scared the living shit out of me.” She complained.
I raised an eyebrow, she didn't notice. Fucking balaclavas. "Yea, I know," I said looking down over my costume. "For the most part I am happy with it, but then I realized that I had forgotten about the mask. Which was obviously a problem." I explained.
She smiled at me. “So you decided to just go for broke and really straddle that villain, hero line?”
"What?" I asked, "I looked totally cool and a hero like." I stroke a heroic pose, my duster swishing about me as I planted my hands on my hips and pushed chest forwards.
"Totally." She replied, "Except for the part where you're wearing an old train robber's jacket and a robber's mask."
I sighed. "Dusters are cool," I complained. "They aren't as bad as you've made them out to be." I glanced down faking a dejected look and swished my duster back and forth, calling out a giggle from her. "Anyway," I said, bringing it back to the reason that I was approached in the first place. "Do you have an extra one of those?" I asked, pointing towards her trash-picker-upper.
"This one?" She asked, looking down at the trash-picker-upper. "Gimme a sec." She said, walking over to a beat-up black van and pulled open the side door. From my angle, all I could see was the control panel and a seat. She came back out again holding another trash-picker-upper.
“My name is Rachel, by the way.” She said, smiling at me.
Chapter Forty
That kid really knew how to put a damper on my good cheer, I thought, striding away from the child and his bike. I shot a glance over my shoulder, seeing the kid riding around on his bike loudly making noises with his mouth. I smiled, then something else happened.
I smiled a little more, though it was muffled and hard to tell through the balaclava. That was a good reward for helping a kid, thought that smile was almost just as good. If only it could put food on the table, then
it would’ve been all I needed.
I continued patrolling the streets for a few more hours. Which was how I ended up next to this nice old grandmother. I had found her struggling to carry around four bags of groceries. Four.
***
“You should see them all so full of vigor and energy. They’re almost like you. I remember the last time new hero’s were swarming the street, though according to my timetable you’re a little early young man! I can’t be that old.” She said, with a chuckle.
“Don’t you worry Grandma Blueberry.” She had insisted that I call her that. Apparently she cooked a delicious blueberry pie and her grandkids had stared calling her Grandma Blueberry, now she wanted everyone to call her that. I thought it was very endearing and sweet, so I indulged her. “I can almost guarantee it. You don't look a day over 75!”
“Oooh!” She cried, faking a hurt look and holding a hand over her chest. “You young whippersnappers,” Whippersnapper! She just casually said that! “Are always so quick with the comeback. I’ll have you know that I am only 74, so don’t you act like I’m some oldie that doesn't understand whats going on. I’m hip, I can get with ‘it’.”
We both laughed when she finished talking. “Now tell me, confess in an old woman.” Grandma Blueberry said. “Something seems to be bothering you. What is it?”
I frowned and looked down at her. She looked up at me with a pair of crystal clear gray eyes. They caught alot more than I had initially given her credit for. “I’m just thikinhg. I don't… I haven't spent a whole lot time, doing hero work. I don't know if I'm doing it right. Shouldn't there be a gunpoint robbery I stop, or someone to save. All I’ve done so far is help a kid get his bike back. I’ve helped a few elderly people cross the street and helped an old woman getting her groceries home. It just doesn't seem that heroic to me.”
The old woman smiled up at me and waved one gnarled finger in my face. Though age had obviously worn on her, she wasn't wasted away. She was obviously still quite robust, especially for someone in their mid seventies. I had no doubt that I had I not helped, she would have carried her groceries home all by herself, and even I was starting to feel it.
They we rent too heavy, they were just painful to carry for extended periods of time. The nerve core had also installed a pain measure. I had done some reading, apparently the first subjects that didn't have a pain factor, started getting irrational and acting mad, so I was happy for it.
“From my perspective you look plenty more heroic than anyone else on this street.” She gestured with the same gnarled finger towards the other people walking the street. “There is no real way about it. I’ve grown old, yet in my old age only you came up to me and asked if I needed help carrying my groceries. Though you looked strange in your duster, weird hat and winter gloves, it certainly was better than walking alone and I am happy that I took the chance on you now. To me and certainly to that kid, you are a hero.”
I smiled at her words, feeling encouraged. we walked amiably continuing to talk about her grandkids until we reached her apartment. She fumbled for her keys for a while, before letting me in and I helped her put the groceries into the fridge. She smiled and thanked me.
“Do see about getting a less suspicious looking costume for the future though.” She told him as he walked out of her apartment.
“I will.” I replied, “Thank you for the advice Grandma Blueberry.” I waved at her as I left.
I spent another hour randomly walking the neighborhood. I stopped when I noticed someone walking down the street. She had one of those picker upper things. The ones you use to pickup trash without bending down. She was wearing a light brown set of coveralls and some work boots. Her red hair was gathered and stuffed into a cap.
I watched for a moment as she went about picking up trash from the street. Her actions made me look around. This time of day it was a lot less busy, there were still plenty of people walking about, but there were definitely fewer than when I had first gone out. I also noticed all the trash. The streets weren't piled with huge bags of trash, but there was enough little stuff that the area she had passed was noticeably different than where I was standing.
I made sure to scuff my boots on the sidewalk as I approached her. She turned towards me, startling when she saw my mask. She couldn't be much older than I was, maybe late twenties, early thirties. She looked at me warily and held a hand over her heart. “You scared the living shit out of me.” She complained.
I raised an eyebrow, she didn't notice. Fucking balaclavas. “Yea, I know.” I said looking down over my costume. “For the most part I am happy with it, but then I realized that I had forgotten about the mask. Which was obviously a problem.” I explained.
She smiled at me. “So you decided to just go for broke and really straddle that villain, hero line?”
“What?” I asked, “I looked totally cool and hero like.” I stroke a heroic pose, my duster swishing about me as I planted my hands on my hips and pushed chest forwards.
“Totally.” She replied, “Except for the part where you’re wearing an old train robber’s jacket and a balaclava.”
I sighed. “Dusters are cool.” I complained. “They aren't as bad as you’ve made them out to be.” I looked down faking a dejected look and swished my duster back and forth, calling out a giggle from her. “Anyway.” I said, bringing it back to the reason that I was approached in the first place. “Do you have an extra one of those?” I asked, pointing towards her trash-picker-upper.
“This one?” She asked, looking down at the trash-picker-upper. “Gimme a sec.” She said. She walked over to a beat-up black van. She pulled open the side door. From my angle all I could see was the control panel and a seat. She came back out again holding another trash-picker-upper.
Chapter Forty-One
I helped Rachel clean up the street for another 200 meters until she called it for the day.
“We stopping already?” I asked, giving her back her trash-picker-upper.
She grimaced and looked into the sky. "Yeah. If I stay out too late, it might get dangerous." She looked back at me with a smile. "Also, they don't pay overtime that well."
"Well, It's been nice meeting you," I said, offering her a hand. She smiled and shook it.
"Likewise friendly, if ominously dressed stranger," she said with a wink. Then she got in the van and shut the door, I watched as the car drove away.
Friendly Deed:
Clean the streets.
Rewards: 15 Tessian Points and 35 Credits received.
I was a little surprised by the number of Credits I received for helping Rachel, but in no way displeased. I had noticed that Friendly Deeds seemed to weigh heavier towards Credits than Heroic ones.
I checked my watch, wondering if it was about time to head home. It was a little over eight. It was also a weird time for a girl to be working, didn't make much sense for her to be working such hours, now that I thought about it.
I considered it for a moment, then shrugged and restarted my patrol. I would keep going till a little past 9 then head back, I decided. The sky quickly darkened while I finished up my patrol. I was sorta surprised by how fast the light went.
Not half an hour later, the shadows had significantly lengthened, and the street lights had turned on. I wasn’t that worried, the neighborhood didn't seem to be all that frightful. Then again, I rarely left the apartment past six o’clock, so what did I know.
I was just about to decide to head home early when I heard a man cry out. He sounded surprised, but it wasn't too far away, though it could be hard to tell. Sometimes noises could travel insanely far, in these close confines.
I started running towards the noise, immediately bringing up a hundred different possibilities. All of them more outrageous than the last, but still unable to dismiss even a single one of them. Instead, I sped up, my Power Core was still sitting comfortably in the mid 70's percentage, so I wasn't afraid of running dry.
I rounded a corner and ran out into a street where I c
ould see someone small pointing a gun at a man. For a moment the two images didn't jell in my head.
The one holding the gun couldn't be more than 160 cm tall and weighed at maximum 60 kilos. While the man was way taller than me, if not then almost 2 meters tall. He had the brawny physique of a working man, his arms were bigger than the gun-toting robber's thighs.
He could've thrown the small criminal over a building, but he wasn't the one holding the gun. I could see that he had dropped what looked like a brown bag, with something greasy inside it. He was still holding a bouquet of flowers in one as he slowly backed towards an alleyway.
I managed to dive around the corner before they spotted me. “Faster,” The criminal called. The criminal was obviously female, her voice coming clearly to my ears. She looked around nervously and gestured with the gun towards the alley.
I tried entering my Foundation, to center my thoughts and control my emotional reaction. Despite the little progress I had made towards righting and strengthening my bunker, it still added very little in terms of self-control.