Chapter Eighteen
“That was...” said Chris. He looked around the SUV as it bumped along a barely paved road. Everyone had a guess in what he would say and Chris felt it so he went in a different direction, “Super.”
They snickered and rolled their eyes. Chris continued, “Well not really super. It was two against ten. I mean did you see how not fast Alan and —“
“Leave it alone, hippie,” said Frank. “You're just glad you didn't have to shoot anyone but could still come along and play. You can't have both worlds all the time.”
“Yeah, leave it alone, Frank,” said Johnykin.
The wrap-up party excitement dwindled only slightly as Klaus ignored the rest of his team's bitterness to jump back into a steady banter with their driver once again. The small conversations from earlier were now heavily filled with flirtations on both parts. Johnykin looked eager to prod her fellow Super for his blatant speech but stopped short as it was much more entertaining to just sit back and watch. Frank and Chris noticed the same value in the show going on in the front seats and looked on with glee as well.
Klaus eventually realized he had a viewership and acknowledged them with a wink and smile and kept on. The back row giggled like teenagers that snuck into an R-rated film.
The ride took a good two hours and sucked most of the adrenaline out of the back seat. Limbs stiffened and eyes drooped as the SUV pulled over to another lightly forested area, which would be turned into camp.
Outside the sun reminded Chris they had a whole day left in front of them. Frank caught his eye and wiggled a cell phone at him to remind him he should call Sadie. Chris struggled to think of how many days it had been since they talked, which of itself made him aware he needed to stop thinking and call her. With his phone next to his ear, Chris saw everyone else doing the same.
Sadie picked up, he wasn’t sure what time it was there, but she was excited to hear him.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Fine, fine,” said Chris.
“Is there bad reception where you are? I mean right now I can hear you fine, but what took you so long to call me? Are there rules against it? What?”
“Uh, I don’t know about rules. The reception, yeah, it isn’t everywhere. I don’t even really know how I have reception now. We’re kind of in the middle of nowhere. Well, there are trees.”
“Uh-huh.” Sadie paused. Chris could see her in his mind gulping down the thousand other interrogative questions that would only make her more upset. He should have pushed to call her earlier.
He pulled out the big gun he’d had plenty of experience with. “I miss you.”
“Yeah, you better. Wait. You’re just saying that to get on my good side you little shit.”
“Maybe. But it’s true. I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier. It’s crazy over here or just different. I don’t really know yet.”
“Your son and daughter have also missed you and would have appreciated a phone call so they could know their father wasn’t dead.”
“I’m sorry. How are they?”
“Oh, you need a couple more apologies first before you can ask about them. Or anyone.”
“I don’t know if we can say anything, but we just finished our first mission.”
“They’re calling them missions? Are you a special ops group? Oh my God. What are they having you do?”
“Nothing. No, I don’t think we’re special ops. It was nothing. We just took some weapons away.”
“What kind of weapons? How are you doing this? They don’t need you. The Supers can take weapons away. God, Chris. You should be at home. Come home already.”
“It’s only been a couple days. They need me.”
“We need you too. This is ridiculous.” Chris heard Sadie sniffle and snort. Again he could see her in his mind; this time crying.
Chris had gradually moved out of earshot of the group during the phone call and looked up now to see a fire building in intensity in the middle of the camp. Those not on phone calls of their own we’re smiling and moving things around in preparation for something Chris couldn’t figure out just yet. His mind wanted to connect the dots, but was still entrenched under Sadie’s emotional gravity.
“It’s not going to take much longer,” said Chris to break up Sadie’s silence.
“When?” asked Sadie.
“Soon. I’m not really sure.”
“Then how do you know? Don’t just say that to try to make me feel better. Or to try to end the conversation.”
“I’m not, but I know it won’t be a long time. I won’t let it be a long time.”
“Sure. I should probably let you go. So you can get some important work done.”
“Um, I don’t… Yeah, well I will call you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Sadie hung up immediately. It stung, but he completely understood her position. At the same time he didn’t know his position and wasn’t ready to act. Yet, those difficult thoughts would be for a later time as the scintillating smell of burning coals took over all of Chris’s attention.
In front of the fire, were most of the Supers standing or sitting in chairs. Chris just missed stepping into the fire pit from the excitement of seeing a grill cleaned and set up by one of the drivers. Frank came out of nowhere and pressed a cold beer against Chris’s arm, making him jump.
“Just like the backyard,” said Frank, and motioned with his eyes for Chris to take the bottle. Frank took a long swig of an already open beer in his other hand. Chris studied the bottle cap and looked around Frank’s person for an opener. “Jesus. Too much like the backyard.” Frank grabbed the beer back and turned to one of the Super’s chairs.
“Sup, Frank. That for me?” asked Hal.
Frank ignored him, put the lip of the cap on the armrest, and then slammed his palm on the top to send the cap flying off and suds overflowing. He handed it over to Hal, “Sure.”
“I’ll trade you one of mine,” said Hal, and handed over a beer hiding in a small ice chest.
“Thanks,” said Frank, and threw it at Chris who was watching the whole thing.
Chris handled the flying beer surprisingly well. It was unclear if Frank wanted him to catch it or see a vaudevillian juggling act ending with the bottle comically shattering, but at the very least the cap was a twist off.
Soon all the Supers were in chairs around the fire with a beer in hand or nearby. The four drivers knelt or crouched next to the fire prepping the food in a form of hierarchy Chris hadn’t noticed until now. Where did he and Frank stand in this system? Frank didn’t act like he was beneath the Supers, but Frank and Chris were. It was natural. The A-listers and the B-listers. Chris found Johnykin talking to Jean and Rachel. Although Johnykin was the clear winner in the beauty department, the other two women exuded their own glamorous looks.
Once the food sat roasting, the drivers produced more chairs and sat among the Supers they chauffeured around. Klaus continued whatever conversation he had started during the ride right back up again with their driver accompanied by a soft hand on her knee. Frank sat with Alan and Grant discussing the mission and what went well and what didn’t.
The last chair was next to Frank, which would have put Chris into a tagalong position in a conversation he didn’t feel needed him. The only other viable option was sitting next to Johnykin, but after the phone call with Sadie he wasn’t keen on socializing with three super powered women.
“Sit down already,” said Frank. “You’re making everyone nervous just standing there.” Chris sat.
A couple more beers made the rounds through the group before the late lunch was ready. Without a word, the drivers got up from their seats and doled out the food on plates for everyone. Chris was in love with the idea of the barbecue without really noticing what they had to eat. Plus it didn’t take much to fill him up as he already had three beers taking residence in his stomach. Another beer, probably from Frank but Chris wasn’t sure, accompanied the meal. Then af
ter everyone ate, the drivers served as clean up, and more beers surfaced.
All talk around the fire carried fits of laughter with them. Jokes good and bad jumped around and sparked silly stories that hardly needed to be coherent. Eventually the talks also became less self-contained and more one large tale with everyone listening in and adding on. The fire burning low along with the beginnings of dusk pushed the chairs into a closer circle.
Through fuzzy eyes, Chris swept the faces of everyone to see inebriated smiles like the one on his own that was hurting from laughing. This wasn’t so bad, he thought. Frank was right; it was just like the backyard but more drunk. And now Chris watched, like so many times before, Frank push into a divided topic.
“Alright, alright. I want to hear the good stories now. What kinds of shit have you guys run into? You’re in the biggest cities in America. Come on Alan; tell us what you’ve hit in Chicago. We read the coverage but what really happened at the game?”
Alan looked slightly above Frank’s head. The smile from the jolly times didn’t disappear, but was now waiting to beat a quick retreat. The decision took too long. Grant jumped in to bail out his partner.
“That was… messy. We didn’t really expect anything to happen but shit happens, right.” Grant took a swig and looked across the fire at Johnykin.
Alan waited long enough. “It was fine. The tip-off was from a reliable source. We were where we needed to be and saved countless innocent lives. That’s what mattered.”
“Sure it did. And I always enjoy a last minute brush with death because someone doesn’t feel right about their job.” Grant looked down at the dirt and dug his shoe into it. Somewhat aware of the loose remarks caused by one too many beers he put his bottle down and continued the study of the ground disrupted by his foot.
Frank gave a chuckle and then looked across the fire at Bernard. “I want to see New York someday. I know you get a ton of work out there.”
“What, are you interviewing everyone, Frank?” asked Johnykin. Her voice softened the question at the end, but it was clear she was ready to fight.
Frank puffed with delight at the chance to get into it with Johnykin. Bernard cut in between with a loud and overdrawn, “Yeah,” before laughing at himself and then really mending the atmosphere. “It’s busy in the city that never sleeps. Hard to remember the last time I got enough sleep myself. A lot of low level thugs, purse snatchers, punks trying to put up graffiti. The usual. The only really crazy one was with that biker gang. Holy shit.” Bernard's huge smile fluttered over to his partner Jean, but she didn't reminisce in such a jovial manner.
“It was terrible. They were harassing a family. Fucking monsters,” said Jean. Johnykin put her hand on top of Jean's and then shot a deadly look at Frank.
Chris finally felt the situation for what it was and followed in Bernard's footsteps of putting the party train back on track. “I can't wait to see how we'll be remembered in the future. You know someone's going to make a movie out of all this. Real Supers saving the day. I wonder how many more will come out or be discovered or however it works. It would be so cool to see someone fly. I mean... can anyone here fly?”
An explosion of laughter went off in the group. Chris didn't expect that reaction, but it fitted what was needed and Frank's interrogations lost all steam as the jokes started up again.
“Oh my God, Johnykin. I need a sidekick like yours,” said Rachel.
“He's my partner,” said Johnykin.
“Even better. Sidekicks with benefits,” said Rachel. “And if you're not in need of him, I’ll be more than happy to take him off your hands.”
Chris would have turned red if his cheeks weren't already flush from the empty bottles scattered around the fire.
Johnykin winked at Chris and continued to play up the dialogue, “He's a married man Rachel, but he's still mine and I still have a need for him.”
The women laughed and the men smirked. It wasn't the funniest or most original just something that needed to be said to keep the spotlight on easier topics. Chris saw how reluctant they all really were. Not as much as him, he thought, but still reluctant. They weren't going to whine about it like Chris had. There was a job to be done and they felt responsible to do it. Chris thought more about it as the dialogues continued around small talk and stupid jokes. These people, these Supers, should feel responsible. They had gifts and were capable to help so many. What was he doing here? His gifts had nothing to do with operations and missions.
Chris's buzz wore off the more he sat thinking and occasionally adding half a response to the floating conversations. He still sipped on a beer to give his hands something to do, but the thinking brought him to the disappearance of Klaus. Frank noticed Chris’s search around the fire.
“He and the driver slipped away an hour ago,” said Frank.
“It was bound to happen. He’s not married is he?” asked Chris.
“Nope. Free to play the game. How many beers you going to have? Sadie’s going to kill you when I tell her.”
“Alright then, Lou. Give me a milk. Dramatic pause! Chocolate.”
“You don’t say ‘Dramatic pause.’” Nonetheless Frank fell out of his chair at the still life of Chris in his best George McFly impersonation.
The rest of the group caught hold of the mise-en-scène a little late but roared in approval of Frank flat on his ass. He hurried to right himself, but the beers had a strong grip on his coordination. Loose dirt did the rest, sending Frank head first into the low fire. Chris jumped up and tackled his friend away from the pit.
“Oh man, did you really just save me from falling in the fire,” said Frank on his back with Chris on top of him.
“First time for everything,” said Chris. “You know this counts as a hug, right?”
“Oh, get the fuck off me.”
Frank pushed Chris off and stood up. He then spoke to everyone, “That is definitely the end of my night, but I want to say that great food and beer bring out the best stories. Hopefully we’ll have plenty of all tomorrow. G’night everyone.”
The reaction was mixed; some gave small cheers while the rest looked down at their own bottles trying to decide if they'd had enough too. In the end, Frank had ended the party by calling it a night. The group didn't follow him immediately, but people stood up and talked for a few moments more before closing off previous subjects with ambiguous endings to not offend.
Chris stood too even without anyone to really talk to. He listened in on Alan and Grant, but they didn't say anything more; just making eye contact and then moving on. Chris spied Johnykin and moved over to her group that was splitting off.
“Hey, where are we supposed to sleep?” asked Chris.
“How drunk are you?” said Johnykin. “You're sharing tents with Frank again. The drivers already set it up.”
“You're going to share with Klaus again?”
“Ha. He's already sharing with someone. I'm in the car this time.”
“Oh, yeah. I should have put it together.”
“You sure should have.”
Johnykin put her hand on Chris's chest as a sign to say goodnight and walked past him. Chris turned to watch her go and bumped into one of the drivers. After cooking and serving everything, they were now cleaning it all up. Chris thought of Sadie and how she would give him more than a death stare for just standing around and watching people work. So, thinking how proud she would be of him, Chris pitched in and grabbed all the bottles left around the fire.
One of the drivers noticed and without a word handed Chris a garbage bag to throw it all in. He smiled expecting a smile back and cheerful thanks. The driver continued cleaning. The mute action moved Chris to work even more diligently in locating every last bottle even if it also pissed him off a little.
A half an hour later Chris double checked the camp site and was positive his giant garbage bag held every beer bottle. He took it over to an area with another bag and set it down with a slight huff of indignation. After a break in his ego, r
ealization took over to show him he was the last one up. The fire, covered in dirt, let escape only a few wisps of smoke, but the stars reached down to shed some light. Sadie would’ve at least said ‘thank you,’ thought Chris, I really do miss her. He took a few steps to get his bearing and located the SUV he’d arrived in and the two tents next to it.
He made his way up to them and stopped. The lady or the tiger raced inside his head. Would a peak be enough to figure it out? The mounting decision created a trickle of electricity across the front of his head. It also made him extremely tired. Forget it he thought and zipped down the tent furthest away from the SUV. It was Frank and an empty sleeping bag. Chris crawled inside the bag and laid his head on a small pillow that sent the now pulsing electricity from the front of his head around to the sides and back. But even with the alcohol induced headache, sleep won out in seconds.
A sharp kick hit Chris's thigh at seven. Then a familiar but not at all friendly voice added some more encouragement.
“Get up. We're taking the tent down with or without you in it,” said Frank. Without another pause the tent collapsed on Chris's face.
“Shit, again?” said Chris, pushing the fabric away from himself to make an escape. He scampered out as fast as he could with the sleeping bag clinging to his legs.
The campsite was no longer a campsite. Any remains of a fire or the chairs that sat around it were completely gone. Half the tents from last night still stood if only for a few more minutes and it was clear Chris was the last one up.
Breakfast was bread and fruit in your hand while you bustled around, but most just had a cup of coffee. The Supers moved around too, surprisingly helping clear things out and into the trunks. Chris thought of last night and moved to help too, but he felt the headache again and with the headache a stomach not willing to hold down dinner. He turned away from the hustle and spewed last night's barbecue into the dirt. No one noticed or no one stopped to give him sympathy through noticing. It seemed to be a common recurrence, he thought.
Just Another Job Page 16