“Come on,” said Frank and sprinted for the American Eagle Outfitters hidden behind plastic palm trees and heavy cologne. Their move for a new cover spot went unnoticed as they were now at the advantage of viewing the shooter from the side. A bag full of ammunition or worse hung on the shooter's back. More blasts from the shotgun made Frank and Chris flinch. Debris from shattered glass, tiles, soil from obliterated planters, chunks of white drywall, and shreds of paper products became the new mall landscape.
The sight of malicious destruction held Chris's attention until from the corner of his eyes he saw Frank pounce from their crouched spots behind the wood shutters. Frank stalked towards the back of the man still firing into the stores and every breakable object around until ten feet separated them. At which Frank broke into a sprint with the intent of tackling him just like the teenager before. Although the impact of the hit was similar, the result left Frank on the ground to the side with the shooter only dropping to one knee. The shotgun clattered across the floor out of both their reaches under a bench. Frank glanced to it and the now slightly unarmed man next to him. Both were a bit dazzled over the collision, but in a strange unison they gained their feet at the same time.
From the safety of the American Eagle Outfitters, Chris watched his best friend stand face to face with the shooter. The two paused in order to garner a look at their opponent before the match continued. Frank soaked in as much as he could and pulled his fist back, but the powerful swing met only air.
Klaus had whiplashed into the shooter with such speed the two of them hit the floor and slid ten feet into the same bench that covered the shotgun. As soon as Frank realized where his target had moved to, Johnykin appeared and grabbed his arm. She spoke into his ear and he pointed at the American Eagle Outfitters and Chris. Johnykin ran over with a less enthusiastic Frank, who kept looking back at Klaus and the shooter tangle with one another.
“You're alright? Thank God, you're alright,” said Johnykin to Chris as he finally stepped out from cover. She grabbed his hand and smiled near to tears. Chris grinned from one corner of his mouth, embarrassed to be found where he was. But that only brought Johnykin to a full waterfall. She tried to hide the tears by pulling Chris into a hug.
“Really?” said Frank at the sappiness in front of him. Chris looked at Frank to apologize in some way, but saw something else more immediate.
The shooter was more powerful than expected. He flung an elbow into the side of Klaus's head that sent him to his knees. This break allowed the shooter to pounce on his shotgun which he butted against the back of Klaus’s head. The hit knocked Klaus face first into the ground with his arms and legs stretched out as if trying to embrace the floor. Johnykin and Frank turned back to the action to see what Chris was already witness to. The shooter took notice of the three of them and pointed. Without thinking Chris shoved Johnykin into Frank, knocking them down and out of range. The shooter fired a direct shot into Chris's chest. Even from the twenty plus feet of distance, Chris was thrust onto his back. Johnykin screamed and ran at the shooter who was reloading. Her speed took him by surprise and she slammed the gun into the ground. The shooter swung at her head, but she ducked and grasped his throat. Her short stature became even shorter as she raised him off his feet by the neck.
Klaus roused from his spot, dazed but otherwise healthy after having his brain raddled, yelled, “Johnykin!”
Still holding the shooter in the air gasping to breathe, Johnykin looked over. Klaus smiled as if everything was okay and pointed back to Chris. The umpire's vest was bullet proof. Chris had his elbows on his knees while Frank checked him over. Johnykin dropped the shooter who hit the ground hard for being only a few inches above it. She started to make her way back to Chris, but stopped mid-step. The shooter was crumpled on the ground unconscious or too beat to move. Johnykin swung her leg back and kicked him in the gut. An action that placed a finishing note on the drama, as the kick sent the shooter flying and then rolling across the mall floor.
“Thank God,” said Johnykin, who ran back over and hugged Chris's head.
“Yeah,” said Chris, still amazed he wasn't dead.
“I never get a hug,” said Frank. Klaus snuck up behind and hugged him tightly. The pinch took the air out of Frank's lungs and he sputtered, “Thanks.”
“That's one way to stop a massacre,” said Klaus.
Frank caught his breath. “Where the hell were you two?”
“Looking for you,” said Johnykin. She raised Chris up apparently satisfied that he was going to live and should be walking on his own again. “When you were gone for so long we thought the shoplifter had made it outside.”
“We caught him right before,” said Chris.
“Of course,” said Klaus. “Then all of this happened. You two are making us look bad. 'Sidekicks Catch Shoplifter, Thwart Shooting Massacre.'”
“Or 'Partners Do All the Work While Supers Stand Around Parking Lot,'” said Frank.
“Both of those suck. I need some ice,” said Chris.
“Well 'team,' I'm going to call Erik and the cops,” said Johnykin. She strutted away back to the shooter. Klaus followed and zip tied the shooter’s hands behind his back. Johnykin lifted the shooter to his feet and took him with her.
Klaus, Frank, and Chris stood looking at each other awkwardly. None knew what to say so Frank stated the obvious to break the silence. “I told you it was bullet proof.”
“Uh-huh,” said Chris.
“Are your suits bullet proof too?” asked Frank.
“I do have super powers, remember?” said Klaus. “It's not just the suit. But I do look bad ass and I guess you two should look as cool if you're going to stand next to me. I'll talk to Erik. He listens to me.”
“You mean Erik listens to someone besides himself?” said Chris. The quip came out before Chris realized how out of character it sounded. Frank looked at Chris with pride while Klaus looked annoyed. Chris thought to apologize but instead shrugged his shoulders. He just got shot, he thought. Screw Klaus and Erik. “Let's get some ice cream. We at least deserve that?”
Frank and Klaus followed Chris to an information tower that mapped out all the stores for new visitors. By the time they deciphered where anything was and bickered over Haagen-Dazs versus Berry Delight Frozen Yogurt, Johnykin returned. According to her, the cops were already at the doorstep from calls they received earlier. She dumped the shooter with them and strongly advised they pick some ice cream up from somewhere else on the way out.
The way out was worse than dealing with the shooter in Chris's mind. When they came out the front doors, Johnykin waved the SWAT team's guns down, but they still ran around them into the mall. Next were the throngs of reporters crowding the police line like an old, black and white serial except half of them held up cell phones to record it all. Klaus pushed his way to the front to take on the questions. He was easy and natural amidst the rush of questions as if he practiced beforehand. Johnykin had some practice or at least tutoring about the situation too. She positioned Frank to the right and just behind Klaus and then put herself and Chris to Klaus's left with Chris paralleling Frank by being just a bit behind her. Two Supers in front; their sidekicks or partners or whatever dutifully next to but behind.
A couple of questions were directed explicitly at Johnykin, Frank, and Chris, but beyond those few Klaus answered everything. The four stood for less than thirty minutes, but when it was done Chris felt soaked with sweat. Of course his costume along with an afternoon sun did their part, but really he was nervous about what Sadie would think and say. This wasn't going to go unnoticed, even though she did her best to stay away from news channels and sites. And of course he would tell her about it when she asked. Chris racked his brain for a good enough reason to convince her, and himself, this was a job worth keeping.
Chapter Ten
Erik gave Chris and Frank two weeks paid leave along with a salary bonus due to their timely intervention with the mall shooter. Even though they were off work, Eri
k did enforce mandatory counseling sessions with Neal. Frank counter offered going back to work in place of the psych visits, but Erik relished getting the reports about the team from Neal. It was all part of the data needed to keep the experiment running in a transparent fashion. “Teams don't have secrets,” said Erik. Then Frank asked to see Neal's psychological analysis of Erik, which prompted an ambiguous reply along with a few rhetorical questions about how long Frank wanted to work for Timely National, and if he wanted to return his bonus with interest.
“Fucking pussy,” said Frank, adding some director’s commentary to the retelling of his and Erik’s conversation. They were heading back across the Altamont from the first counseling session. Chris had been with Neal when Frank’s story happened. Although Frank was angry with Erik, Chris could tell that Frank was happy with their jobs, especially since he didn't have to hold back in front of their boss. In fact, now that Chris thought about it he was pretty sure Frank called Erik a pussy to his face and still didn't get fired.
“You're still coming over for barbecue Saturday, right?” asked Chris.
“I guess. Don't you ever get tired of cooking on that piece of shit? You should at least get something new and spring for steaks this time. I know you got a bigger bonus than I did because your dumb ass got shot.”
“I deserved every penny of that check. That shotgun freaking hurt. Maybe I’ll talk to Sadie about a new grill. I think she's finally not mad at me for almost dying.”
“Tell her to lighten up. You saved the day.”
“If I get steaks, you better bring good beer.”
“Keystone is good.”
“If you're at a frat party, maybe. I have to drink at least five of those to get any kind of buzz and Sadie won't let me drink more than three.”
“You're more of a pussy than Erik. Man up and tell her to fuck off. You got shot in the ass and deserve to drink five beers.”
“I'll tell her you said that and see how many beers you get to drink. She'll throw them over the fence into the neighbor’s like last year.” The memory gave Chris the giggles. “Oh my God. You two were so pissed at each other. Just staring, red-faced. I swear I thought your heads were going to explode. It was like Arnold in Total Recall.”
Chris puts his hands to his contorted face with bulging eyes and used his best Austrian accent, “Aaaahh!”
Frank couldn’t help but laugh.
“I guess Scanners would’ve been worse,” said Chris, and mimed an explosion going off in his head. “Boom.”
“You’re such a dork. Alright, shut up. I’ll bring something good.”
A wind kicked the leaves out of the eucalyptus tree that spread shade through most of Chris's backyard. Chris loved barbecuing. He wasn't an expert, but the smell of charcoal burning inches away on a sunny late afternoon cleared his head. At least until he made his head swim just slightly with two Newcastles on an empty stomach. But even with the small buzz and loss of fine motor skill, Chris experienced these moments clearer. The turning of meat at just the right moment to create a burnt outside that complemented the juices trapped inside was felt rather than timed out. His gut told him when it was done or when the corn needed to be pulled off to cool down. And he listened and it worked. But the biggest reason Chris pushed to cook his dinner over an open fire so often was that the greatest stories were generated in this platform. This was another thing he could feel. Whether it was the tragic love drama put into such breathtaking measures by Louise and Frank’s wife Gail, a school yard epic adventure by Gerry and Frank’s son Simone, the live staging of powerful personalities in Sadie and Frank, or Chris’s own fanciful myths about the origins of everything. A barbecue created the best narratives.
“You better not forget my pineapple. And don't grill it next to the hotdogs this time. I could taste it,” said Sadie from her lawn chair.
“Sure you could,” said Chris.
“You better enjoy that beer. It cost me eight fucking dollars for a six pack,” said Frank, as he handed Chris a third bottle. “Like the new grill, by the way. You just have to match the rest of your backyard to it.”
“You calling my backyard ugly?” said Chris.
“Yes,” said Frank. “Don't burn my steak. There better be some red left in the middle.” He walked over to Gail, who was sitting next to Sadie in the second lawn chair Chris owned. Frank kissed his wife on the cheek and jokingly offered Sadie his beer.
“Stop giving my husband beers. He's had enough,” said Sadie.
“Last one, I swear. They're too expensive to waste any more on him,” said Frank.
“Don't be a jerk,” said Gail, and slapped Frank on the butt. “Check on Simone and the others please while you're up.”
“Yes ma'am,” said Frank, and saluted the two ladies. He opened the sliding door to the house and stepped aside quickly. Simone popped through the door wearing a plastic Captain America mask and matching plastic shield. Gerry was next out the door but with a Thor helmet and foam hammer. Frank watched the two boys run across the grass and then disappear around the side of the house. He made to walk into the house, but stepped back again to let Louise through.
Louise stared into her phone as her thumbs punched letters with blinding speed to form a very important conversation. Frank yelled at her hello and moved his hand over her phone to block her vision. Louise instinctively slapped his hand away and yelled a just as loud ‘hello’ back. Frank finally made his way into the house. Louise sat on one of the few patches of grass next to her mother and Gail to partially join the conversation.
“Gerry hasn't touched those toys in years,” said Sadie. “I have the cutest pictures of Chris and Gerry running around the house pretending to fight evil villains together.”
“Dork and dork junior,” said Louise.
Sadie smiled knowingly at her daughter. “And you had the cutest little Wonder Woman outfit that you used to wear. You would beg daddy to pick you up and fly you around the house. I'm sure I can find those pictures too.”
Louise rolled her eyes. “At least I was young, like four or something.”
“Try seven.”
“Whatever.”
“You were cute then,” said Gail. “But now you're becoming so beautiful. Texting a boyfriend?”
“It's my friend Tiffany. She wanted to know what happened to Dad. Everyone wants to know what happened.”
Chris overheard his daughter and saw her eyes look over to him with the same worry that Sadie had shown when he told her about the mall. He turned back to the barbecue trying not to remember the conversation.
Frank helped the best way he could by shouting from the sliding door, “Flip my steak. I'm gonna kick your ass if it burns.”
“I'm going to kick your ass if you keep yelling at my husband,” said Sadie.
“Too much ass kicking for me,” said Gail, and tried to talk to Louise more about any boys she knew.
With the food nearly ready, Frank helped Chris carry the dining room table to the backyard.
“You really need a table set out here. Because I have to tell you that I hate fucking picking this thing up to eat outside,” said Frank.
“Maybe,” said Chris.
As soon as they set the table down Sadie said, “We should go tomorrow and get some lawn furniture, Chris. It's ridiculous having you two carry that thing out here every time. Actually we should get a new table for the dining room while we're at it. The legs are wobbly and about to fall off.”
“That’s what I said,” said Frank.
“You can totally reuse it. Upcycle you know. I have this great tutorial I just pinned. I'll have to show it to you after dinner,” said Gail.
“Not more Pinterest gossip,” said Frank.
“Stop calling it gossip. That's for Facebook. Besides, I saw you scrolling through my pins the other day Mr. Manly Man,” said Gail.
“I can look where I want to look,” said Frank, before grabbing Gail’s hands to pull her up from the chair and into his arms. He brushed her hair
back and kissed her on the lips this time.
“My Manly Man,” said Gail again, and then pretended to swoon.
Chris dashed over to the grill to pull everything off. Sadie called for Gerry and Simone who had moved on to a superhero video game after their imaginations wore off, but quickly made their way to the backyard again. The two families bustled for condiments and napkins in a routine bred from innumerable weekends together. Stories started and stopped easily. The food acted as the catalyst first for past get-togethers, but soon the talking bled into each other. One conversation would spark an idea for a second until there was a jumble of characters, conflicts, and maybe a resolution or two.
Chris looked over to Simone and Gerry who were spitting images of their respective fathers in looks and personalities, which generated a friendship on par. Once stuck together because of their husbands, Sadie and Gail now shared a strong give and take. Gail's relaxed outlook on most everything infuriated Sadie at times while at other times put perspective on her own hard, matter-of-fact philosophies. Louise was the only one without a pair. Chris felt guilty at times that he should have chosen a different friend that had a daughter Louise's age. Louise had two close friends and a well-rounded circle of acquaintances from school, but they never came to the barbecues. It was never stated that it couldn't happen. Louise didn't ask and her parents assumed she would if she wanted to. Gail and Sadie tried to weave Louise into their talks, but it would coalesce only so far. They were adults and she was learning to become one. But, God, Chris felt wonderful staring out over the scene. He could feel his eyes opening to their fullest to take in every movement and his ears pricked for every bite of conversation.
Just Another Job Page 8