Better to Die a Hero (6 page)

“Are you Okay?”

“Yeah, but I really need to get out of here.”

“No sweat, were almost out.” Steve stepped ahead and held the door open. Bryan dipped again and his legs began to violently shake.

“I’ve got to keep moving.”

“Good Idea. We'll keep walking.” Steve sped up to match his friend’s pace. “This is the first time you've had to physically defend yourself. I’d be shaking too. Damn, you did good.”

“Do you really think so?”

Steve
forgot his earlier feelings of jealousy and they walked the halls for the last half of the lunch hour. By the time fifth period started, Bryan was relaxed enough to laugh a little over his first fight.

For the rest of the afternoon, classmates bombarded Steve with questions about the lunchroom incident. Steve pretended he knew all along of Bryan’s fighting prowess and theorized that Bryan had reached his limit with Jake. He said things like “I could tell he was slowly getting tired of taking Jake’s crap.” In truth, he had no idea Bryan could fight outside the make-believe world of role-playing and bullying had never seemed to bother his friend. He continued the lying all afternoon and into the boy’s locker room after school.

One of the best things about the run home was the time it gave him to think about his day, Nora, and life in general. Today marked the seventh day in a row he’d run and his comfort level had increased to the point he could think coherently, even when on the last leg of the run.

His head remained clear and his legs held strong as he maneuvered the broken walkways of his neighborhood. The fight that afternoon reaffirmed the bond between Bryan and himself and he now thought himself stupid for letting his emotions overwhelm him. So what if he didn’t know what was going on between his two friends. So what if he had been dropped out of the loop for a week, things like that happen. Steve shook his head in disbelief when he thought back to the extreme jealousy he’d experienced. How could he let his emotions get so out of control?

I am never going to lose it like that again, he thought.

The teenager sensed a car approach from behind and it slowed to match his pace. He looked over his shoulder to see a familiar hatch back.

“Hey, runner dude!” Bryan shouted from the driver seat, “We'll be over at seven. Don’t forget to cancel the game.” The car accelerated. Nora waved from the passenger side, her smile beaming, her eyes sparkling.

*          *          *

Steve wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror with lethargic strokes. He had waited several hours to take a shower, sitting on the edge of the bed wondering how he’d become such a loser. A sniff of armpit and a glance at the clock eventually motivated him to the bathroom. The mirror would have to suffice as the tool to track weight loss, the scale being broke for nearly two years. Why he could not bring himself to throw it out, he was not sure.

I can’t be too much of a loser, he thought, slapping his stomach, which was slightly smaller and a bit firmer than the week before. His bellies girth may have only dropped an inch, but the weight loss really showed up high on his abdomen just under the pectorals.

If you’re working hard at something and making progress, you can’t be a loser.

Steve tried hard to believe this and on some level did believe it to be true. He pulled on a baggy shirt and breathed a sigh of relief. At his current rate of fat loss, there might be time left at the end of summer to wear a tank top—maybe tucked in. So what if he never attained the hard body of his daydreams, a physique of proportional height and weight would be quite nice.

“Now, time for some desensitization therapy,” he said, heading for the foot of the bed. Steve sat stiff at the edge of the mattress envisioning Nora and Bryan holding hands and then slowly escalated to imagining them hugging, and then kissing.

The doorbell interrupted his therapy session. He calmly stood up, shook his arms out, took a deep breath, and left the room. Bryan’s head, wedged in the open door, greeted him at the bottom of the stairs.

“Let's go pal, we're headed for the park,” Bryan said, while pretending his head was stuck. With great effort and facial contortions, his head withdrew from the doorway to a loud popping sound he made with his tongue.

Steve let the two walk ahead and looked for signs of togetherness. He could see none. At least three feet separated the two as they walked toward the car and no exchange of happy smiles or cutesy faces took place. Nora even began slowing down so that by the time they reached the car the three of them were together. Bryan opened the passenger door and stooped to pull the lever springing the front seat forward. Bryan bending over reminded Steve of a cartoon spider he used to watch on Saturday mornings; however, after the incident at lunch, he would make it a point never to underestimate that emaciated looking body.

Bryan said, “You two ride in back. I'll be your chauffeur.”

Steve crawled into the back a little shocked at Bryan's suggestion, but even more shocked and delighted when Nora followed him into the back seat. The curve of her thigh came to rest against his right leg and she did not attempt to adjust.

“Where are we going?” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, the warmth radiating from Nora’s leg distracting him.

“We're going to go patrol the park,” Nora said, giving his knee a soft Pat.

Bryan adjusted his rear view mirror so that he could make eye contact with his friends. “There's a rapist working the park, hopefully we'll catch him.”

Steve could hardly believe what he was hearing. “You two can't be serious?”

“We're serious all right,” she answered. “Child abuse and rape make me angrier than anything on the planet.”

“I know those are horrible things and I hate to come off like the wimp here, but in one hour it’s going to be a dark Friday night in the park. The bad people are going to be out and it’s us that are going to need protection.”

Nora patted his knee again, assuring him that they would be okay. Bryan kept driving with a strange grin on his face.

Steve sat up straight and lightly cleared his throat. “I have a scenario for you two.” Steve thought back, he didn’t remember ever running this one by Bryan.

“Oh goody,” Nora said, clapping, “I get to do one of your scenarios.”

“Let’s say you're walking along and you find a small cardboard box. It's simple looking with writing on one side and a plastic button on top and if you pick it up it appears to be hollow. The writing on the side says, God knows all who are guilty of rape; none can hide or distort the absolute truth he holds. You being the finder of this box, God is asking you to make a choice. If you push the button on this box, all those who are guilty of the crime of rape will die a painless death over the course of one month’s time. No innocent person will die or be physically harmed by the pushing of the button. The act of pushing the button will not count for or against you on your judgment day. God will take this action if you push the button, however, his preferences can never be known by man. Steve paused and made eye contact with both friends. “Would you push the button?”

Bryan answered, “I wouldn’t push it, because when those men die their natural time and go before God, they won’t escape punishment.”

“That’s a good answer I think, but as you know,” Steve addressed Bryan, “it really doesn’t work for me since I don't believe in God or in life after death, those men who have gotten away with rape, I believe, never do get punished. I'd press the button in hope that they'd receive some kind of earthly punishment or at least so they couldn’t rape again.”

“Wait,” Nora said, “you just said you didn’t believe in God or an afterlife. So why are you even bothering to push the button?”

Steve replied, “I’m ninety-nine percent sure there’s no God and ninety-nine point nine percent sure there’s no afterlife and it’s just an empty box with a fake button taped to it. I’m sure the box is someone’s idea of a joke, but do I set it down or press the button to register my opinion?”

“You would press the button?” Nora said, playing with her hair.

“Yup,” he replied, “Of course knowing that nothing would happen, but if it did, I don’t think I’d feel guilty. Now, before you started analyzing the scenario, I’m talking right after I said what was on the box, what was your gut reaction?”

“My gut reaction was that your guys’ scenarios aren’t as dumb as some people think.” “What!” the boys said in unison.

“You guys are supposed to talk about who’s on the list of the top ten toughest superheroes.”

Another strenuous objection erupted from the boys. “Or what are the ten top superhero costumes of all times.”

“Oh man,” Bryan said, “we haven’t done that since junior high. You’re telling me that’s what people think we talk about?”

Steve rubbed his forehead.

“Last year in the lunch room we heard your group arguing over who was the hottest babe in comic books, Rockey… Rockford, Julie or Jenny.”

“Rogue, Jubilee or Jeanne Grey,” Steve said, embarrassed he had taken part in the debate.

“She’s got us on that one,” Bryan said.

“I still think it’s Rogue.” Steve laughed.

“Jubilee, dude!” Bryan yelled.

“She’s like fifteen, man!”

“Mutants mature faster than normal,” Bryan answered back.

“Bryan joined a Jubilee fan club on the Internet,” Steve said to Nora.

“Christ, that was four years ago,” Bryan said.

“That’s enough,” Nora hollered, squeezing Steve’s thigh just above the knee.

“Ooow! Ooow! Okay.” Steve said rubbing his leg with both hands. “Man, for little hands you pinch like a lobster.”

“Enough about women,” she said, “I can come up with a good top ten list. What ten heroes have the best boots?”

“Oh God.” Bryan said.

“What,” she said, “that’s not a good list? Boots aren’t a good subject?”

“There is this problem with Spiderman’s boots,” Bryan said.

“Oh no,” Steve said, shaking his head, “not with the boots again.”

“What’s wrong with Spiderman’s boots?” Nora asked.

“Things like how does he stick to walls through the soles of his boots?” Bryan answered. “Those discussions seem trivial now. In reality we rarely talk about comics anymore.”

“Now you guys talk about some fantasy game adventure right down to the littlest detail,” Nora said, “About how a group of you came upon some evil monster and how you fought it. How this guy threw a magic fire ball and the next guy cut its tail off.” She paused. “People hear you guys all the time and no offence, but everyone says the same thing, those guys should get a life.”

“I see,” Steve said.

“Ooops!” Nora covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be mean. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She threw her arms around Steve and repeatedly kissed his cheek.”

“That’s okay,” he replied, smiling. He wanted to tell her she smelt like a goddess and that her lips were soft like little pillows.

“We are a little nerdy,” Bryan said, turning off the ignition and pulling the parking brake, “however, I don’t think getting a life is going to be much of a problem.”

“So, we’re really going to do this?” Steve asked.

Bryan gave him a thumbs up. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”

“He wins one fight and he thinks he’s Jason Bourne,” Steve said.

Nora reached to the front and tapped Bryan’s arm. “He did win against one of the toughest kids in school.”

Steve glanced at the rear view mirror; Bryan was wearing that same grin.

Bryan got out and moved the seat forward. “Let’s walk over to the moss cliff.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Steve replied.

“So Bryan, let me get this straight.” Nora said. “You joined a fan club for a comic book character.”

*          *          *

The moss cliff, a man made wall of large granite slabs was one of Steve’s favorite spots. It was less congested than the rest of the park and had served him well as a quiet place to sit and think. A grass field led to the top of the wall and two cement staircases, on either end, descended down to the base of the wall. Twenty feet of grassy clearing lay at its base. Moss filled the chaotic cracks giving shape to green lightning bolts and on a summer day the damp surface sparkled. Steve enjoyed the wall in spite of the occasional condom, beer can, or diaper strewn around the bottom.

The three walked across the park and Nora continually broke into Steve's personal space pleasing his senses with her excellent perfume and the occasional, maybe accidental, brush of her hand. When she came close, he could feel her radiating warmth and where her hand brushed him, his skin stayed warm for several seconds. What he liked best though was her hair, blown about by the wind, lightly tickling his face, especially when a strand caught his lower lip and sent a shiver down his spine.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he answered, “I just got cold for a second.” He was relieved to see that Bryan seemed oblivious to the chemistry between Nora and himself.

Bryan went on about the fight in the cafeteria and how afterward he couldn't get his legs to quit shaking. He shifted into entertainment mode and began an exaggerated version of the knee knocking he had experienced earlier. In step with the emotional roller coaster Steve had been on all day, remorse over his earlier jealousy now dominated his emotions.