Maybe he thinks Paige put me up to this.
He hoped the man’s attitude would change. He tried to find some common ground, but it became apparent the common ground was nonexistent. The more time they spent together the more he didn’t like the guy, the more he thought of him as an overly competitive idiot.
After an hour, Jonathan called it a failed endeavor. He’d wasted a day and a considerable amount of money on the whole idea and now had little to show for it other than an abused ego and a severe dislike for Paige’s boyfriend. If boyfriend was even the right word, after today he hoped acquaintance was a better description.
He resolved to come more prepared next time. He’d seen men’s magazines at the grocery store. He could go online or find a book at the library, study up on modern muscle building techniques. He winced at the idea that he was losing time to research, even if it was necessary. He needed to do something, anything, to make some kind of progress. Whatever he did he had to keep moving forward, a setback like Grant being a jackass wasn’t going to get in the way.
As he left the gym he ‘thanked’ Grant for his time. The guy was standing on the sidewalk outside of the gym, talking on his cell phone.
“No problem, Tibbs,” Grant said, taking his ear from the phone. “Let me know if you want to do it again sometime.”
“Yeah,” Jonathan said, starting to walk away. “I’ll call.”
“Remember,” Grant said. “You see that blond guy again, you let me know.”
Jonathan nodded and started to turn away again, waving without looking back.
As he walked away he was initially perplexed. There was something about the way Grant had said “you let me know” that was intentionally, yet subtly, irksome. What was that guy’s problem? Admittedly, Paige was probably still uncomfortable knowing that the ‘blond guy’ hadn’t been apprehended, so he understood the bravado in front of her, but what was his interest in bringing it up when she wasn’t even there to hear him boast?
He understood suddenly.
He’d been thinking about it all wrong. It wasn’t bravado. It was simpler than that. It was a facade. Grant didn’t believe the story at all. He thought he was lying and was merely humoring him by pretending.
When it occurred to him, he could hardly pretend to care what Grant thought. Still, it started to make sense. Paige had seemed to make such a point of believing in him. She’d made a show of her support at the hospital. If Grant didn’t want Paige being concerned for a guy whom he thought was lying, it would certainly cast the man in a better light.
It wasn’t a blip on the radar of his current concerns, not when competing with his more imminent problems. It slipped from his cluttered mind the moment he turned the corner.
Hayden and Collin sat at the kitchen table, Collin’s sketch book and a pile of notes scattered before them.
“Come on, Sunday School,” Collin said to Hayden, trying out a new nickname, “dig deep here.”
“I’m thinking!” Hayden said. “My brain is fried, we’ve been at this for hours, and I never went to Sunday School.”
Paige walked in through the front door, her backpack heavy with books.
“How is superhero Jesus coming?” she asked.
“It’s back to the drawing board on the story arch. We need to alter certain biblical events to make them more convincing when they lead to action sequences. Young Jesus needs to be more incomplete, kinda like Superboy versus Superman. Then there’s the issue of villains…”
Hayden trailed off as Paige looked like she was beginning to regret having asked.
“I mean,” Hayden said, “it’s good.”
“Good,” she replied. “Has Tibbs been around?”
“Nope, haven’t seen him all day,” Collin said.
She nodded, and her phone started to vibrate. Smiling, she answered it and walked toward her bedroom. Hayden could tell from her face that it was Grant on the other end.
He turned his head back to the project in front of him but noticed Collin’s eyes still lingered on Paige as she disappeared up the stairs, then they lingered even after she was gone. Hayden sighed. He honestly felt bad for his friend on this one, especially since he knew Collin’s bedroom was right under Paige’s. That must be brutal.
“Collin,” Hayden said, snapping his fingers.
Collin seemed to come back to reality from the daydream his mind had wandered off to.
“Bro, I’m just saying this for your own good.” Hayden paused. “Never gonna happen.”
He could see Collin get defensive, see his expression change as he was about to pretend he had no idea what Grant was talking about, then his features relaxed and looked defeated instead.
“Sunday School,” Collin replied, his eyes flicking briefly back to the stairs again where Paige had disappeared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but what exactly makes you say that, just out of curiosity.”
“You mean other than that I’ve never seen her date anyone who couldn’t bench press his own weight?” Hayden asked.
Hayden immediately regretted phrasing it as such. He could see it hadn’t done Collin’s self-esteem any good. He hadn’t meant to push a button.
“Yeah,” Collin said, “other than that.”
“She doesn’t think of you, me, or Jonathan like that,” Hayden said, “and I get it. She’s pretty and kind of awesome in a lot of ways, but…”
Hayden trailed off, trying to figure out how to express this in a way that Collin would see it for what it was without getting his feelings hurt. He leaned in and whispered, not wanting to risk Paige somehow overhearing.
“She’s kinda playing house,” Hayden said.
Collin frowned, but picking up on Hayden’s whispering, he lowered his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Paige thinks of us like brothers,” Hayden said, “and not like, she kinda thinks of us that way; she likes thinking of us that way.”
“Whatever,” Collin said, disbelieving.
“Bro,” Hayden said, “have you ever heard her talk about family. Like ever?”
Hayden watched the gears going in Collin’s head as he thought it over. After a moment he shook his head.
“Well,” Hayden said, “I only heard her mention growing up once, and it wasn’t a pretty picture.”
Collin leaned in closer, understanding now why Hayden had been getting quieter and quieter.
“Like how?”
“It’s not my place to go into it,” Hayden said, “but I got the impression that the only family she’s ever had was her dad, that they moved around a lot, and he wasn’t exactly parent of the year.”
They sat in silence for a bit. Collin didn’t look like he was going to push for more details. Hayden wouldn’t have felt right sharing anymore anyway. He’d already overstepped his bounds.
“That sucks,” Collin said, looking down at the table.
“Well, anyway,” Hayden said, “us, this place, Jonathan. It’s the only place that ever really felt like home to her, and the way she’s reacted to what happened to Jonathan. She acts more like, well—”
“Like a sister would,” Collin said, “not just a roommate.”
“Yeah,” Hayden said with a slow nod. “Sorry, Bro.”
After the gym, Jonathan headed to his shift at the hardware store. He had to talk to Mr. Fletcher about picking up more shifts. He didn’t have a plan B yet if his boss declined. As it turned out, Mr. Fletcher was more than happy to oblige the request.
“You’re worth three of these other retards that I have working for me,” Mr. Fletcher said.
For a moment, he’d been flattered; then he realized he’d just been given the value of three retards.
“I gotta tell ya kid, I worry that you’ll have time to keep up with your studies taking on that much time at the store,” he said. “You sure about this? You don’t need to feel like you owe me anything for missing shifts last week. It was completely understandable.”
“No sir, nothing lik
e that,” Jonathan said. “I may, well, I might have to take the rest of this quarter off, for personal reasons. I need the extra money, though. I don’t know yet how the financial aid office will…”
Jonathan trailed off, realizing that he might be over-sharing. His mind was becoming weighed down with the implications again, how he didn’t know what things were going to look like for him tomorrow. He couldn’t get used to it, not after having such a structured routine.
Mr. Fletcher nodded in understanding.
At least temporarily, it appeared Jonathan didn’t have to explain much to anyone. They all still thought they knew what was causing the change in his behavior. If Mr. Fletcher was okay assuming that Jonathan had been rattled so badly by his attack that he wasn’t able to be functional at school for a quarter, then that served his current needs just fine. The lie of omission really didn’t hurt anyone.
They talked more about increasing his schedule, at least until the next school quarter. The gym hadn’t gone so well, but at least this had. As it was, by the end of the week he really had no idea what kind of funds he might need access to.
“Any news about the girl you mentioned, the new neighbor?” Mr. Fletcher asked at a slow moment during his shift.
“No, not really,” Jonathan said. “She’s a photographer, don’t think I mentioned that.”
His boss seemed disappointed at the lack of new development. It was just so out of character, or at least it seemed so to Jonathan. Mr. Fletcher was such an old fashion man’s man that his sudden change to gossiping about Jonathan’s nonexistent love life was disarming.
“Artist type, huh?” he said. “She any good?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her work,” Jonathan said. “Camera looked expensive, though.”
“I dated an artist once. It was before I was married. Fiery girl; too much passion and spontaneity. It was a thrill at times; got me involved in a lot of stupid antics, but I remember she was incredibly difficult,” he said.
Jonathan saw a small smile cracking the man’s lips as his memories passed through his mind.
“Not saying this girl is difficult, just an old man’s two cents.”
Jonathan shrugged.
“You say she was a red head?”
“I didn’t say,” Jonathan said, raising an eyebrow. “But yeah, she is.”
“Fiery,” Mr. Fletcher warned.
Hours later, when Jonathan returned home from his shift, the sun was just beginning to go down. As he turned off the street and down the slope of his driveway he noticed Hayden’s car parked in front of the garage. He frowned as he approached the car’s bumper. He’d seen the sticker a hundred times before, he remembered the first time Collin had pointed it out to him.
“It’s like he gave the damn thing a tramp stamp,” Collin had said, pointing at the car’s rear.
“What would Jesus do?” Jonathan read out loud.
The question was supposed to show him the answer to his moral dilemmas. Jonathan didn’t see an answer to any of his problems there now; perhaps if morality had been his chief concern it would have been otherwise. If he were Jesus, being the omnificent son of God and all, he could have snapped his fingers and closed whatever gates the Ferox were using to get to Earth. Problem solved. He didn’t have any idea how to accomplish this in reality, and apparently the alien who pulled him into this didn’t either.
What would a badass do? He remembered.
There was a lot of what Heyer had said the night before that Jonathan had run over and over through his mind. Until now, the ridiculous ‘badass’ comment hadn’t been one of them. He remembered the alien’s humorous fascination with the question, and he thought he understood it now. It set the bar within reach of a twenty two year old college student and an alien. That, and the answer seemed clear.
Whatever it takes.
He heard a whistle then, and it startled him out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw Leah and Paige smiling at him from each side of the fence that divided their property. Paige was in her gardening clothes; Leah had her camera hanging around her neck again.
“You look like you’re over thinking something,” Leah said.
Both smiled at him, he must have been closed to the world to have not noticed them there. Leah held a pink flower in her hand, and Paige leaned over the fence, letting Leah push her hair aside and tuck the flower behind her ear.
“Probably was,” Jonathan admitted.
“Paige said she’d model for me,” Leah explained.
“Who says no when a photographer wants to take their picture?” Paige asked, not really hiding that she liked the camera’s attention.
He saw immediately why Leah wanted the photo. There was something about the scene; it struck him enough to briefly distract him from his own concerns. Paige, clean except for the dirty garden gloves she’d rested on the picket fence, smiling while the sun went down behind her. It all captured her so well. The pink flower Leah had put into the picture was the final detail, the thing that completed it.
Leah hardly knew Paige, still she’d been able to see what the scene needed. He found himself impressed by the eye of the photographer, her quick insight, as he watched her taking the shots.
“I think she’s got you pegged,” Jonathan said.
“Maybe, you’ll let me take some shots of you sometime?” Leah asked.
When Jonathan came down the stairs, his hair was still wet from a shower. After he’d returned home, he’d gone for a run. At least it was exercise he was familiar with. His legs had felt heavy from the gym earlier. Now, he felt the night of missed sleep creeping up on him. It was probably for the best, he’d need to be exhausted to get to sleep.
Collin and Hayden were waiting for him expectantly in the living room. For a second he didn’t know what to make of it.
“It was difficult, we couldn’t think of a single time where you even mentioned a movie, but we know the best place to start,” Collin said, like he imagined he was about to teach a blind person how to see.
“Thanks!” Jonathan said, doubtful that they’d actually thought about it as much as they were letting on. “So then what are we watching?”
Hayden and Collin were both visibly excited.
You’d think they were about to tell me I’d won the lottery.
“Rocky!” Collin finally said.
Right! Jonathan thought. Sylvester Stallone. It wasn’t as though he’d never heard of the film. It was a national phenomenon after all, though he admitted he’d never seen it, just clips and scenes here and there. Mostly things like Rocky at the top of stairs with his fists in the air. He knew it was about boxing. Then, Hayden added something unexpected.
“All of them!” Hayden said.
Jonathan frowned.
“How many of them are there?” Jonathan asked.
“Let’s see, there’s Rocky 1, 2, 3, 4, then 6 is due out sometime next year,” Hayden said.
“What about part five?” Jonathan asked suspiciously, predicting he was being set up.
There was a pause. Hayden looked at Collin as though Jonathan had just acknowledged the existence of big foot.
“What?” Jonathan asked, playing along.
“Tibbs, you’ll come to find that there isn’t a consensus around whether or not certain films actually exist,” Collin said diplomatically.
“Part five,” Hayden said, shaking his head at Jonathan in disapproval.
“For instance,” Collin said, “Hayden, have you ever seen Highlander 2?”
“No such film,” Hayden replied straight faced.
“Batman and Robin, Halloween 3, Jaws 4?” Collin asked.
“Collin, are you having a stroke? It’s like you aren’t even speaking English right now,” Hayden said in mocked concern.
Collin pointed to Hayden, “You see my point.”
Jonathan was confused. Paige snickered from the kitchen table, she apparently had at least some idea what the two geeks were talking about.
Jonathan sh
rugged at her.
“Some movies are so bad, and screw up the stories so much, that nerds decide to ignore their existence so that it doesn’t taint the other films in the series,” she said.
“That’s correct, Tibbs,” Collin said.
“Okay, so we’re watching Rocky I then?” he asked, fairly sure he was naming a real movie.
When the exhaustion came, it overwhelmed him quickly, and Jonathan only made it through a quarter of the film before he gave in. It hadn’t been immediately clear what he was supposed to see in the story and he struggled to keep his eyes open more than he’d given the film his attention. Had it been otherwise, he would’ve let Collin and Hayden, who were still wide awake, begin explaining the film for him.
The promise of the blankness that unconsciousness would bring became too much to resist. It was all he could do to drag himself up the stairs before he fell asleep in the living room. When his body hit the bed he was out fast, the comfort of the mattress and sheets embracing him. It was relieving, to be so tired that thoughts outside of sleep ceased to carry any weight.
There would be those few sweet moments in the morning before he remembered what his life had become, where he’d just be Jonathan again, waking up in his bed like any other morning, not this frightened boy desperately trying to find his way to yet another new normal. It would be brief, but it would be there.
He had to sleep.
He didn’t have to rationalize it. He had to be able to get up and try again tomorrow. He had another shift to cover at the shop, and there was so much more, so much he didn’t yet have a clue where to begin. When he woke, he hoped his mind would do him the courtesy of forgetting reality as long as it could
Chronicles of Jonathan Tibbs 1: The Never Hero Page 16