by Beth Lynne
“Zoom in on the face, what shows of it,” Celia ordered. “We live in a smallish town. Maybe one of you, Val or Sidra, as everyone else has seen this slide, knows this individual.”
When Twinkie zoomed in, the slide became somewhat distorted. However, Sidra felt something familiar about the figure. It was escaping her for the moment, but maybe it would come to her.
27
“Haw!” Sidra yelled, jabbing at her opponent with a wooden sword. The opponent was a dummy tied up and hanging from the ceiling of the loft Smith was renting in the downtown area. The initial thrill of entering Smith’s place of residence—albeit accompanied by Bella, Val, and Saturn—soon wore off due to the hard work that followed. Smith presented Sidra with a blue sleeveless and to-the-knee shorts length unitard, which fit to her form like a second skin, with a matching padded helmet. She was a little embarrassed to wear the outfit, particularly since she had a feeling that her cotton underwear was visible through the thin fabric. She felt like a boy compared to Val, who was outfitted with a red suit that was identical in fit to her own. But Val was curvy, with no VPL. Their little group was somewhat subdued after the confrontation and subsequent loss of Simon. Although they did not really know him well, it was the fact of his termination/resignation that put a damper on the proceedings.
After Simon left, Celia sulked at the table for a moment, directed the crew to take part in the refreshments, and ordered Smith to take the fighters and their guides to his place on the surface for some workouts and drills. So there they were, Sidra sparring with Saturn, Val sparring with Bella, and Smith directing the whole thing. Although Sidra was the sword fighter, and most of the talent of fighting would come to her on the job vis-a-vis her superpowers “down below,” Celia wanted Val to learn as well. She intimated that Saturn could benefit from the drills too, which led the absolutely stunning blonde, formerly known as Mittens to Sidra, to have to submit to Sidra’s wrath. It seemed that recently, the small teen was moved by some heavy-duty adrenaline surges. Saturn shrugged and scooted left as Sidra jabbed at her right side. Sidra was basically left-handed, but Saturn had detected some ambidextrousness, as had apparently Smith, who signaled over to Sidra and tossed her a second wooden sword, a shorter one than she already possessed, which she caught neatly, barely missing a beat as Saturn was still stumbling from her sidestep.
“Not so graceful now, are you, Claudia Schif-less?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Not really such a great swordsperson, are you, Kate Loss?” Sidra taunted her again.
“Oh, I get it, you’re calling me by supermodel names but spoofing them! Oh, clever!”
Sidra jabbed the shorter sword into Saturn’s belly. “Who’s the pussy now, huh?”
“Oof! Brilliant, really brilliant, child!” Saturn caught her breath and clocked Sidra in the side of the head. Fortunately, the helmet took the brunt of the force, but the shot brought Sidra to the floor, where she landed on her back. Saturn placed her sword tip on Sidra’s chest and yelled, “Wooooooo!” She sneered at Sidra. “Had enough, little girl?” Smith left his observation of Val and Bella and ran over to the pair.
“Saturn, let her up. And be nice.”
“I am nice! This one has a huge problem with me because I’m not a talking kitty.” Saturn threw her sword to the floor and the shimmering silver unitard she was clothed in suddenly diminished and fell to the floor as the matching helmet rolled away. A small, writhing lump emerged from the pile of clothing, blinking its green eyes and arching its back in a stretch. “Better?” said Saturn in the form of a cat.
“Freaky, wow!” Val commented, venturing closer upon noticing that Saturn had seemingly vanished into thin air. “How do you do that, sis?”
“It’s a gift,” Saturn offered.
“So when you switch back to a person, where’s your clothes?” Val asked, curiosity murdering her swordfight.
“Val!” Bella called. “We aren’t done!”
“Yeah, better get back to work now,” Smith cautioned. “Celia can access this training room remotely and there’ll be hell to pay if she finds out what we’re doing.”
“Just like the song,” Sidra said, smiling at Smith.
“What? What song?” Smith looked genuinely confused, so Sidra sang a bit of a song by the Four Ugly College Kids.
“She’s your best friend and there’ll be hell to pay if she finds out what we’re doing.”
“Oh, yeah, just like it,” Smith agreed, but he didn’t look like he meant it. “C’mon, let’s forget sparring and get to the weights.”
Maybe he’s all business here, Sidra thought. But still, his reaction was confusion rather than just redirecting her to their mission at hand. Sidra shrugged it off but filed it in her brain for later investigation.
Sweating profusely with the Queen of Ink looking on sadistically, Val pumped iron, panting, swearing, gritting her teeth, almost crying. She was bench pressing and if she had to do one more rep, she knew she was going to faint.
“C’mon, Val…” Bella encouraged in her peppy gym-teacher voice: fake, loud, and hyped. “…and ten! Good for you! Now let’s increase to fifty pounds!”
“To fifty! You mean by fifty, right? And I know I did more than ten reps! Are you kidding?”
“I kid you not, recruit.”
“Recruit? Really?”
“If you shut your mouth, you can lift more. Sidra has you beat with weight and reps.”
“Sidra is in her teens, in the best shape she will ever be in, and has no stress in her life.”
“She also doesn’t have pure Zinfandel running through her veins.”
“Why you always bringing up the ONE glass of wine I drink in the evening to unwind? Which I have not even had since I quit that crappy job several weeks ago because you won’t let me?”
“I found the wine bottle under the bathroom sink and dumped it.”
“I have news for you; that’s cleaning product. I cracked the bottle of Fabuloso and had to improvise.”
“Fabuloso is purple and doesn’t smell like a winery.”
“I hate you so very much.”
“Good, then you won’t be too upset with this.” Bella added fifty pounds to the rack. “Twenty reps, now! One…two…three…”
“Auuughhhh!” Val shrieked each time as she lifted up.
28
“So where the hell is Mittens?” Sidra asked Saturn as they settled themselves into the Uber that was bringing them back to Sidra’s house. No way was Sidra letting Saturn back into her house, not even as her cat. She would fight her for real this time. Even though her muscles felt like bricks, she still would do anything to keep this liar out of her house. She couldn’t believe she had to work with her!
Saturn sighed heavily. She hated explaining herself, her shapeshifting, her reasons for doing anything. “She has been there all along. She can’t stand me, actually, so whenever I am there, she runs and hides in your brother’s room and I would shut his door and yours as well when I was in your room so that we would never be in the same place together. It worked out fine for the little time I was there.”
“So did you eat cat food and use her litter box, too? Don’t tell me my mom was cleaning up after you.”
Saturn shook her head. “No, I ate at home. I really wasn’t there that much.”
“How did you get in and out of the house without us knowing?”
“Well, since I can shapeshift, I might change into something small, like a ladybug or a fly, and crawl into your bookbag, then leave and enter with you. It’s pretty easy to do.”
“And that bullshit story about how you were taken into a drainpipe? When Mittens was missing for a week?”
“I had taken her so that I could study her markings and mannerisms, but she was treated well. She was fed and kept warm and I mostly stayed away from her.”
“But you said she hates you.”
“She does, and I am not really a cat person. She stayed with Smith and
he fed her and took care of her.”
Sidra softened for a minute. “Smith? Really?” She smiled down at her lap, unwilling to let Saturn see her feelings. “But you lied to me for two months and my mom was so worried for that whole week! What was the purpose of it all? Why not just approach me? Everyone else was just approached, weren’t they?”
“My God, no! No one is ever just approached. They have to be watched and observed and very closely at that! Why, Bella pretty much ruined Val’s life to get close to her and Jordan and Tanya had to really involve Simon in their lives so that they could get to know him. They were so on the fence with him and Celia was really nervous that he wouldn’t be able to fight. It wasn’t until today that she found the serum was making him younger so he could step up to the challenge. But he apparently also became kind of feisty. And we see how that went down.”
“Well, in Simon’s defense, he was just asking questions to make sure he had it all right.”
“Sometimes thinking too much can keep you from acting. I advise you to listen and do what you’re told. Then you will be more effective.”
“That’s a hive mentality! If I think something is wrong, I have to do something!”
“But I’m your guide, Sidra! I won’t let you make bad decisions. Please consult with or look to me before you do anything major.”
The Uber pulled up to Sidra’s house and Saturn began to get out with her.
“Oh, hell no! You are not coming in with me, not as yourself, not as Mittens, not as Mittens’ kittens. Go on your merry way so I can spend time with my kitty and my family.”
“But, Sidra, I have to make sure you are okay, that you are not in danger or eating Ho-Hos and Ding-Dongs and that you get eight hours of sleep a night. I have to—”
“That’s why I have a mother! That’s who tells me to do those things, not my cat, not you, not Celia.” Sidra slammed the door of the car behind her. The driver started at the noise and jarring of his Kia Soul.
“Hey, you no slammed my door. I give bad review, miss!”
“Get over it. Besides, it’s going on her account, not mine,” Sidra retorted and headed toward the house. Saturn got out of the car too and shut the door lightly, thanking the driver and making a show of leaving him a big tip through her phone app. He nodded, somewhat pacified, and took off from the curb.
Saturn caught up with her. “Here, put your number in my cell phone. I can text you at least, right?” She thrust her phone at Sidra.
Sidra input her digits into the phone and shoved it back at Saturn. She stalked away from the car and entered her house.
“I hope that wasn’t Dominos’ number,” Saturn mumbled.
Sidra entered her home, calling loudly for Mittens. She ran up the stairs, yelling for the kitty, who was not responding or appearing. “Mom!” Her mother appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Mom! Where is Mittens? Have you seen her today?”
“Sidra, where have you been? It’s almost seven! I called your phone a dozen times looking for you.”
Sidra checked her phone, pulling it out of her pocket. There were six missed calls from her mother that she had not seen earlier. “Sorry, Mom, I guess I was in a bad cell signal area.”
“I texted you, too! I was worried sick.”
“Again, bad signal, I guess.”
“But you didn’t tell me you would be so late.”
“I’m sorry! Where is Mittens? Have you seen her today?”
“Mittens? Of course I have. She had her dinner a while ago. I think she ate…”
Sidra raced to Axel’s room and pounded on the door. Axel opened his door and Mittens zoomed out, ran down the stairs, and to the laundry room, presumably to her litter box.
“What?” Axel asked grumpily. He rubbed his eyes, obviously having just woken from a nap. “What do you want?”
Sidra grinned happily. “Never mind.” She strolled down the hall to her room, entered, and shut the door.
Saturn, a fly on the wall who came in with Sidra, buzzed happily.
29
A week after his termination/resignation, Simon had settled into a comfortable routine. He woke up in the morning, had a coffee and some oatmeal, attempted a BM, and then took a little walk around the block. He then again attempted a BM if the first try was unsuccessful, and then took a shower, successful or not. After dressing in some sweats and a t-shirt, Simon would plop himself in his beloved Barcalounger and read on his Kindle or watch TV until lunch time, when he would have a sandwich or some soup. Later on, around five o’clock (or earlier if he wanted—you know, five o’clock somewhere…), he would pour himself a scotch, usually the black label. Then he would make a little dinner, some fish or chicken, and vegetables. He liked to cook for himself. Many single men did not cook for one, but he would just have leftovers for the next day. This was the life he had envisioned for himself upon retiring. He also decided to subscribe to Match.com and JDate to see if he could find a companion near to his age and location as well as interests.
All in all, it was a satisfying routine, although he did notice, as Celia had predicted, that his hair was again all gray and had receded a couple inches to where it had rested before he ingested the serum. His belly also had taken to protruding, so he could no longer see his nethers. Ah well, a quiet life was a quiet life, he mused more than once.
He had rearranged his dining room chairs and marked with liquid paper on the back of the one that had the ability to move him underground. He avoided sitting there or even touching the chair at all. Although he was sure the serum had worn off, he was still wary of the chair. In his current old-man state, he had no desire to face down monsters.
He had not seen Jordan and Tanya either, but they had tried to reach him. He refused to answer his phone, listen to the voicemails, or open the door when he looked out the peephole and saw the top of Jordan’s head. It pained him terribly, as these were really the only friends he had, but he took some time to get over the loss. He knew they only wanted him to rejoin them and their quest to save the world, or some mishegoss that had nothing to do with him. If the world was going, he figured he was going with it. He always knew that if the so-called zombie apocalypse came, he would be one of the first to be bitten, eaten, or whatever. All that running, hiding, and surviving was not his style and seemed to be a lot of work. Thinking about it had him drifting off into a nap, only to be awakened by pounding on the door after being asleep for what felt like a few scotch-induced minutes.
“Haaammm-burger! C’mon, man, I need a babysitter! Mama’s working late! I’m all by myself. If you don’t open the door, the neighbors are gonna call CPS!” Obviously, it was Jordan. He was probably done with being a third-grader for the day. Simon checked his watch: 3:43. The pounding continued.
The addition of another voice and extra pounding had Simon scurrying to the door. “Sir, it’s the police. Are you responsible for this child? Can you please open the door?”
“Ah, shit!” Simon exclaimed as he looked through the peephole and saw the officer’s face and cap. He unbolted the locks on the door and opened it. There stood a solemn-looking police officer and Jordan in little-boy clothes and a big triumphant kid-grin on his face.
“Good afternoon, sir. This young man states you are supposed to be babysitting him while his mother is working?”
“Uh, I don’t think it’s my day, officer. His mother never notified me.”
“Yes she did,” Jordan piped up. “Mama said she called you this morning. Oh, no, please tell me you’ll take me in! I’m so hungry! I want some cookies and milk.”
“Sir? Is that true? You don’t want me to call CPS, do you?”
Teachers, even retired ones, and CPS were natural enemies. “Hell no,” Simon mumbled. “C’mon in, Jordan. Sorry for the mix-up,” he said to the “child,” more to appease the officer rather than Jordan. Jordan stepped into the condo and made his way to the dining area. He stuck his bookbag on a chair and pulled out another one to sit on. “Thank you, officer.” Simon shut
the door before any more questions could be asked. He joined Jordan at the table. It still amazed him that Jordan was mistaken for a child. Even in the kids’ clothing, he still had a mature face with stubble, for God’s sake. Maybe people didn’t want to see the truth. Too many consequences of knowing too much.
“I wasn’t lying about being hungry. And Tanya did call you this morning.” Jordan kept the big grin on his face, while Simon looked grim. “Shit, man, you got old again. What the hell? Aren’t you eating right?”
“You know damn well this is what I look like and that the serum wore off.” Simon retrieved a bag of Pepperidge Farms Orange Milano from the pantry and the bottle of scotch from above the stove cabinet. “You want?”
“Hell yeah! School is so stressful. I’m surprised that the kids and teacher aren’t served shots by the end of the day.”
Simon opened the bag of cookies and poured two glasses of scotch. “So what do you want from me?”
“We want you back. It’s not too late. We need you. You fit the uniform and know what we need you to do. You know how hard it is to find someone who has the vibe?”
“No, how hard is it? Can’t you just run around the mall and school and the grocery store? Or go to New York City and run the streets in Midtown. You’ll find someone who doesn’t ask too many questions and wants to maybe get their ass killed. Won’t you?”
“Aww, c’mon, man, why you gotta be so hard? Do I have to say it? I like you, Simon. You have a good heart and I was beginning to look up to you. Like a dad or something. I didn’t have a dad as a kid or any strong male role models. You’re like a true superhero to me.”
Simon was touched by this admission, but he kept his expression neutral. The “kid” could be lying. After all, he was in his thirties and he never met any male role models? Please. “Is Celia going to apologize?”