by Beth Lynne
Usually, after breakfast and a shower, Simon would sit in his recliner and read a book or watch TV. Today, he cleaned the house. He dusted the furniture, scrubbed the bathrooms and kitchen appliances and floors, and finished by vacuuming the furniture and carpet. He then sat down to his computer and made a nice contribution to the ASPCA. He looked at the news online and clucked his tongue at the state of education in this country. “Glad it isn’t me in that classroom.” He hoped that his new “job” included reducing some of the violence that he read about daily. It was a shame that you couldn’t even enjoy the God-given right of simply existing without all the crazies making you crazy with fear. And for kids to have to worry about it all when the government mandated them being in school, well, that was unconscionable.
A pounding on his door interrupted Simon’s reverie. No one pounded like that except for Jordan. It was what he called his “po-po knock,” flat-handed smacking on the door that reverberated throughout the house. It was quite off-putting, as he pointed out to Jordan on several occasions, which was probably why he continued to do it. “You can take the boy out of the third grade, but you can’t take the third-grader out of the boy,” Simon mumbled, checking his watch and noting that school was over for the day. It amused Simon that Jordan still attended school on a daily basis, but he was still undercover as a nine-year-old.
“Uncle Si-si! Let me in! It’s cold out here and I want my milk and cookies!” Simon chuckled as he opened the door and admitted his little “nephew” into his condo.
“Uncle Si-si, really?” he greeted Jordan.
“Hey, man, I am starved. I really do want those cookies and milk. That school lunch sucks and there isn’t enough of it. No wonder kids get violent.”
Simon supplied his friend with a box of cookies and a glass of milk. Jordan ate several of the cookies and took a big gulp of milk before informing him, “We need to go underground at four o’clock. Meeting with the boss.”
“With Celia? It will be great to see her again.”
“Awww, Simon, you got a little thing for Celia?”
“I don’t have a little anything, Agent Flowers. She was a coworker I admired, and it will be nice to be re-acquainted now that we are no longer in the teaching profession.”
“Little ain’t bad, Gray Hare. But I think Celia is out of your league.”
“I just said, young man, that I don’t have any sort of designs on Ms. Smith.”
“Designs? Hello? 1950 called. They want their old stuff back.”
Simon sighed heavily. “A change of subject, please. This morning, after I slept five extra hours and ate a double breakfast, I found that I had more energy and a smaller gut and that I was a little taller.”
Jordan brightened. “Taller? Really? Where can I get that?”
“I believe it is called ‘hookworm serum.’ Whatever you gave me has a lingering effect.”
“Well, you know it’s different for everyone. And besides, yesterday was the equivalent of a week’s workout at least for you. I can’t say I’m too surprised you have some extra energy or the body of a…forty-five-year-old?”
Simon mock-swatted Jordan. “So do you need me to drive to this meeting?”
“Drive? Nah, we are going underground.”
“We? I thought you can’t go underground.”
“Well, you go and I attend the meeting via closed circuit remote access.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah, so since it’s getting to be that time, how about you get in your chair and most likely you won’t need another drink of the serum to get there.”
“It’s still active?”
“It should be, but you know you can’t get anywhere without me, right? Or Tanya. We are your guides and the chair is the conduit.”
“So what happens if they need me and you aren’t around?”
“‘They’d have to summon you through me or Tanya, so you wouldn’t know if they need you without me.”
“It’s a crazy system.”
“It’s all we have.”
“I can’t believe that Celia discovered all of this on her own.”
“Who knows what the story is on that? But I do know two things.”
“What’s that?”
“One, you are running late now. So get your ass in that chair.”
Simon settled into the chair. He felt the now familiar feeling of fading away. It wasn’t as nauseating this time. He relaxed and then bolted up. “What’s the other thing?” He could barely see Jordan now, but he heard what he yelled as he fell through levels of the Earth.
“Your hair is turning brown. We’re gonna have to change your name!”
23
Scooping the cottage cheese from the container and shoving it into her mouth, Celia pretended that it was vanilla ice cream, which helped her not to gag from the nasty texture and bland taste. It was hell trying to keep a sixty-five-year-old body in forty-year-old shape. It was one thing to make her skin tighter and softer, and a little nip and tuck went a long way to promoting her product, but she had to stay thin around the waist and belly to be convincing. Cottage cheese worked thirty years ago, so she figured it would work now. Menopause was hell on the body, as was aging.
Pretending the white lumpy shit was ice cream did not work well, so she set aside the container and focused instead on her notes on the new team she was assembling. Gray Hare, Fireball, and As Yet Unnamed. Saturn and her finicky feline ways. She was a talented and versatile team member, but sometimes she did as she damn well pleased rather than getting the job done. But Celia could not afford to eliminate Saturn for any insubordination; there were so few like her. In fact, the only other one was Smith, and he couldn’t become an animal like Saturn could.
Celia needed to name Sidra as soon as possible, given the current situation, where speed and swift decisions were becoming essential. As ridiculous as the codenames sounded, they protected the individual who was behind them. She couldn’t maintain a file on Sidra until she was named. That she was a minor child was even more of a complication. Ah well, they would all be here soon, some in body and mind, others not so much.
So far, reports were favorable. Simon had been a huge surprise; his abilities of speed, agility, and strength were at odds with the mild-mannered older man. Celia snickered at that. Simon was five years younger than she was, and he apparently still had a nice dry sense of humor. Gray Hare, indeed. Jordan and he seemed to bond like father and child, but there was, of course, more to Jordan than the four feet of him that was visible to the naked eye. He and Tanya were an ideal couple, in love and wanting to start a family. Of all her agents, she enjoyed their company the most, often having dinner and a few drinks together when they could.
Bella, the nasty-tempered whore, reported that Val was getting into shape. Celia actually worried the most about “Fireball,” who had a screwed-up life, an unstable mind, and an eating and drinking problem. She also had a romance budding, which was worrying Bella incessantly. Celia harrumphed. A romance was the best thing for getting a woman in shape and motivated. Maybe Fireball would straighten out without too much effort.
Twinkie, Celia’s personal assistant/secretary/receptionist, entered the Chamber. “Celia, Simon Berger has arrived. He wonders if he can see you for a few minutes before the meeting to rekindle your acquaintance.” Twinkie kept Celia sane and focused, but Celia wished not only that she was not named after the golden cream-filled snack cake, but resembled it less as well. Twinkie was golden-blond, fair-skinned, chocolate-eyed, and oozed sweetness. However, she had a razor-sharp mind and a brain for numbers.
“Have him wait in the conference room and let him know I will be there in a few minutes.” Celia rolled her eyes and shook her head and Twinkie knew that Celia would not be joining Simon alone. Maybe another time, but now was not the occasion to become too involved with any of the fighters. Celia would stall for time until it was too late, and after the meeting, she would send everyone’s asses packing.
“Jordan is set u
p remotely and Smith went to pick up Saturn and her fighter. They should be here momentarily.”
“Thanks, darling. Everyone goes right into the conference room. Let me know the moment each one arrives. Are the refreshments there?”
“Yes, as you requested.”
Celia used a remote control to spy on the conference room via closed circuit TV. She saw that Simon was alone. He had changed since the last time she spied on him, as he was fighting two virtual creatures. Which was actually yesterday, come to think of it. At that time, he was sporting a little paunch visible under his spandex uniform, receding hairline, and gray hair. Today, the man she was viewing in the conference room looked like his much younger brother. No paunch, and the hair seemed to have moved forward a good inch and a half. It was browner too. Interesting. No doubt the work of her hookworms. Jordan hadn’t told her about this change, but then again, maybe it was recent, as in within the last few hours.
Twinkie came through the door again. “Smith arrived with Sidra and Saturn.” She looked a bit put out by the latest arrival. Celia suspected that her assistant had a little crush on Smith, but the presence of Saturn dampened the impact of his arrival. Even though Twinkie was very attractive, Saturn was definitely competition. Celia refocused on the task at hand. Her employees’ rivalries were not her concern, although they were interesting to watch.
“Thanks, Twinkie. When Fireball gets here, I will join them. Please make sure Jordan and Bella have access.”
“Sure, Celia.” Twinkie left to sit dejectedly at her reception desk.
It was not too long before Twinkie returned. “Fireball is here and Jordan and Bella are set up remotely.” She turned to go and then turned back. “Oh, and we are having a huge problem.”
Oh, God, sometimes Twinkie was so dramatic. “Yes, what is it?”
“You need to come see.” Twinkie’s mouth was wrinkled in a little half smile, half smirk.
“Here I come. This better be good.”
“Oh, it is.”
Celia entered the conference room, trailing behind Twinkie when she had intended to arrive in front of her assistant, arms out in a hospitable gesture, welcome speech prepared. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of Saturn and Sidra practically hissing at each other, with Smith holding Sidra around the waist, trying with what looked like all of his might to hold her back from presumably murdering Saturn. Simon and Val looked confused, probably because they had never met either Sidra or Saturn and had no clue as to what the issue was, and Jordan, present on a TV screen, was laughing his ass off as he usually did when something was entertaining to him. Tanya was visibly trying to squelch his reaction with her hand over his mouth, but he was enjoying this, licking and slobbering on her hand. Bella was looking on disapprovingly from her screen, but also seemed bored, like she wanted to get down to business, which was more than likely the case.
“Um, hello, and welcome?” Celia said.
“Celia? As in Principal Smith?” Sidra asked, whirling on Celia as she walked through the conference room door.
“Yes, Sidra. You know who I am.”
“What the hell, Celia? What the hell is with my cat?”
“Sidra, down here, things are a little different from what you see up above on the surface.”
“Yes, but up there, Mittens was my cat.”
“Right, she is a good friend, a great cat,” Celia replied, placating the girl.
“And down here, she’s a- a-”
“Person,” Celia supplied.
“A supermodel,” Sidra corrected. She slumped into a seat at the conference table.
24
Simon looked on in astonishment as two of his ex-students appeared to be going at each other’s throats. Well, no, that wasn’t accurate. The little one, Sidra, was going after the weird one who hardly attended class and then would sit down and take a test and get all the answers right. Tough to grade someone like that. But the school decided to pass her, and he supposed she graduated. That nice boy Smith was trying to restrain Sidra, and as he was doing so, Celia walked in and had words with Sidra and took the two girls out. Smith went along, his arm around Sidra’s shoulder. She walked, slumped, with her head down, but cooperated meekly. The receptionist trailed behind the group, leaving Simon with the woman who had slid into the room as this all first started taking place, Jordan and Tanya, who had excused themselves for a few minutes as the room emptied, and an ugly bald tattooed woman (and Simon didn’t care if the gods of all bad karma shit on him for not loving her attempts at self-expression; to him, tattoos were offensive for religious reasons, and when he was young, there were only three bald people he knew of and one was Mr. Kleen and none were women), whom Simon assumed was the guide to the woman next to him.
“Hello,” he said in a friendly manner to her. He put his hand out. “Simon Berger, AKA The Gray Hare. Are you also a superhero in training?”
The woman smiled a brilliant and lovely smile. She had large brown eyes, flawless brown skin, and black hair that was done up demurely in a bun at the back of her head. She was a little more curvy than Simon liked, but still a very attractive woman. She was dressed in a red flowy outfit with matching pants and button-down shirt that was classy yet different, but very suitable on her. “Val, Val Vincent, also known as Fireball, and that probably answers your question.” She laughed a bit, a hearty laugh, and Simon chuckled with her. He decided that he liked this team member.
“That was Jordan and Tanya who were on the screen. Jordan is my guide and Tanya is his wife. And I suppose the young lady who is glaring at you and me is your guide?”
“I can hear you, you know,” the bald woman growled.
“Oh, get over yourself. You are glaring and it’s not a pretty or friendly sight. You look mean and unapproachable.” Val turned to Simon. “This is Bella, my bald, tattooed guide who has to be the rudest, most disagreeable person I ever met but cannot get rid of.” Bella grunted at Simon.
“Hello, a pleasure to meet you, miss.”
“Wow, you are a real gentleman. How do you keep a straight face?” Val remarked.
“Thirty-five years of public school. You come in contact with some ugly things and you train yourself not to react or inhale sometimes.”
“Well, this one is a real test of what you practiced.”
“I can still hear you!” Bella admonished them.
“Did you say thirty-five years?” Val asked Simon, acting as though Bella had not spoken. “Were you fifteen when you started?”
“Oh, no, I think it’s the serum. It’s making me younger. I hope it stops at age thirty. Any younger and it’s going to look and feel ridiculous.”
“You know, I noticed I’m looking and feeling a little peppier. I thought it was all the working out and healthy eating I’m doing, but maybe it isn’t.”
“It’s a combination,” Bella offered. “Don’t get any ideas about eating Tastykakes and guzzling all that wine you like so much.”
“Oh, shut up. You ain’t the boss of me.”
Celia herded her two charges into the Chamber as if they were the elementary students she used to have to mediate between when she was a school principal. Oh, this takes me back, she thought. Saturn used to be a frequent flyer to her office. She was a scrappy little thing, blonde knotted hair in need of a cut, malnourished-looking, with a wild look in her wide blue eyes. She often wore the same torn clothing repeatedly and had a foul odor to her more often than not. Her absenteeism was off the charts, probably due to all of the above, and she was always getting into fights. Brightest child Celia had ever met, whose actual name was Emily Saturn. Celia would feed the little waif, bring her clothes, and tried to keep her clean and neat. It was a losing battle. The child still was chronically absent despite attempts to haul her parents into the school or even court. Little Emily would even elude the truant and, later, police officers. She seemed to have a sixth sense and suddenly would disappear when Celia would call children’s services. When she would return to school, Celia wou
ldn’t have the heart to call the authorities when Emily would scream and cry and beg her not to. She promised better attendance, to be a better child if Celia would just let her stay.
After Emily graduated elementary school, Celia lost contact with her. They met up again a little after the time Celia met Smith. Maybe three years ago? Celia had to think. Nearer to four, probably. Still thin, still blonde, but taller and a lot less wild-looking. Emily was modeling during a local fashion show Celia was attending. Celia didn’t even recognize her. But during the party afterward, Emily walked by her and Celia felt the vibe. She pulled the girl by the arm, over to the side so she could speak to her, and to her surprise, the girl was smiling widely at her.
“Hey, Ms. Smith! I was hoping you’d recognized me!”
Celia peered closer at the girl. Minus the dirt and wild hair hanging in her scowling little face, Emily on a good day shone through. This version of the little stray was polished, elegant, and expensively dressed. She smelled wonderfully of perfume, also expensive. “Emily?”
“I go by Saturn now,” she informed her former principal.
“It fits! You are out of this world!” Celia exclaimed.
“Right? I am.” Saturn smiled and laughed at her agreement.
“So how are you? Doing well, I see.”
“Yes, I model! Ms. Smith, thank you so much for everything you did for me back then. I don’t think I could have survived without you.” She hugged Celia impulsively.
“Saturn, I have to talk to you.” Later, they met for coffee, and Celia told Saturn about her serum, the vibe, everything. Saturn was excited about working with Celia and still being able to model if she wanted to. Saturn had something interesting about herself to reveal as well, which explained how she was able to disappear whenever she wanted to.