True Heroes (38 page)

              ‘Why does he comfort me?’ “I know the feeling. How did you wander all the way here?”

              ‘You’re a fool in need of comforting. You’re growing tired of your own face cast in blue being the only one you see.’ “Aw, c’mon man. If I’m alive, I’m movin’! Whole bunch of us Oregon-trailed it down last year because of them New York winters. They’re murder on these holes, ya know?”

              Without giving them a second look, Caleb could imagine. ‘Exhuming excrement faster is a sad case for holes against the cons of frostbitten—albeit already evolutionarily useless—man bits.’ Caleb smiled, knowing full-well that his graphic imagination was going to get him into trouble one day. “I can guess. Why not just get a whole set of new clothes? Kinda cuts the problem off at the root that way….”

              “Ain’t exactly a Hobo-Depot on every corner, kid.” They both smirked a bit.

              ‘What are you doing?’

              ‘What?’

              ‘That…. That! You’re empathetic towards him?’

              ‘I’m not sure. I feel what he’s talking about.’

              ‘Neither of us were feeling a thing a second ago.’

              ‘Emotions aren’t as predictable as power bursts.’

              ‘No…,’ his power went into some thought as Caleb was slapped suddenly with several awkward glances, then a scornful one. A middle-aged couple—‘Business casual, matching, high-end leather pouches, her bag from Coach, his from Brookstone,’—seemed both curious and horribly offended, respectively, by the drab Caleb and shabby hobo. Caleb continued to look around, noticing more and more the stares, feeling the pressure of them all as he hadn’t for nearly forty years.

              “Why you keep looking around?”

              Caleb spun back around, processing something like annoyance but not feeling it. “Blind man can see after all?”

              He gently pushed down his ageless glasses, revealing again the empty sockets that stuck with Caleb so heavily. His voice carried the curiosity in his mind to Caleb’s ears. “I don’t see anything. Not sure why I can see you, but boy do I ever. I ain’t always been like this, ya know? Me and my brother went playing by a beehive one day…boy oh boy was I allergic! Like a snake bit me…. Docs had to take out both my eyes to keep the poison from spreading into my body. That’s the only place they stung me, though, was my eyes…but having eyes ain’t the only way to see things, ya know? Some other blindy, older than me I remember, told me blind people can’t see what don’t matter.”

              ‘Touching,’ his power scorned.

              Caleb kept looking around until the man spoke again. “Fill in the holes. Whatcha looking at?”

              “People…,” Caleb continued in a more hushed voice, “People always stare at me. Just a quirk I’ve always had. I’m the elephant in every room, especially when I’m with such colorful company.”

              The old dragger’s cackle broke through the crowds and brought more attention to them. “You learn real quick that being this way ain’t about them. I made my choice and made it well, ain’t they’re business why I’m here.”

              “You made a good choice to be this way?”

              “Never said that, just said I made the choice well. Learn English, kid.”

              ‘And the homeless manger scores a point,’ his power mocked.

              “Right.”

              “Why they look at you, Glowstick?”

              “Same reason you do I’d imagine.”

              “No coincidence?”

              “Coincidence is a synonym for being afraid of truth.”

              “Glowstick, I promise they ain’t seeing you like I do. Not with them gooey balls in their heads. You should take a needle to them and feel your inner eyes instead.”

              “Or a broach,” he muttered. “I think I know what you mean.” Caleb brushed off a few residual stares and leaned against the small column behind him. “You seem abnormally aware for a—”

              “I said, close your eyes and see what’s really important.”

              Caleb swallowed his pride slightly. The man’s dark eyelids closed, prompting Caleb to mimic as he released a tiny bit of power to avoid any unearthing stares. “You getting taller on me, Glowstick?”

              “No. What do you see?”

              His power cast itself enough to be able to wander through human traffic, to meander through abhorred waves. It randomly looked over shoulders or travelled shortly with groups of teens, seeming more curious than angry or vengeful, lightly opening shopping bags or gently brushing hair away from open, beaming faces. ‘What are you doing?’

              In the clear dome of these people’s transit station, only Caleb heard the echo of his power’s coo. ‘Sizing up my prey. No use in killing if you can’t find something good to take away first.’

              ‘How’s that little search going?’

              His power swung around with a wild grin, ‘Swimmingly.’

              “Did you see that?”

              One eye opened to glance at his homeless companion before he refocused and spread his power a slight farther. It combed the outskirts of the square, the dancing waves going unseen for the sake of focus, his power’s eye looked beyond the boundaries of his extending cage. Nearing half of his opaque maximum, Caleb saw something green in the distance. It didn’t bounce like a wave nor did it hang like a light: a dim torch that didn’t flicker. Caleb felt his energy welling too high. ‘Anymore and everyone will see.’ His eyes snapped open. “See it.”

              Immediately nervous, Caleb retracted Power a bit before moving quickly through the crowd. ‘Military so soon?’

              His power stood at attention in his mind, readily available. ‘No, they’d be much louder, and our trail was harder to follow than that. Red tape alone gives us another two weeks.’

              Caleb swallowed as his pace quickened. ‘Someone else like me?’

              ‘That’s even more improbable…and why we should be nervous.’

              His tensed body came to an alleyway across the street from the fire, careful to keep his power checked and his senses open. The drop in societal standards seemed a bit heavy for only being a mile from the square. Broken benches and boarded windows three floors up littered the landscape. A few hood rats crowded a stoop on his side of the street, most of which pointed and mocked to something. His eyes followed the fingers, and felt his head instinctively cock to the side as a huge carrot was dancing and saying something under one of the three working street lamps. “Eat organic!” Over and over a woman’s high voice spouted the same thing, a piece of paper being thrust to nobody in the area. An orange, feminine face stuck out just beneath the leafy top of the vegetable outfit. He quickly covered his eyes with power for a moment, confirming that she was the green flame, no longer a vague torch but a cajoling, singular ember that would surely light the darkened street if it could be seen.

              Caleb stood and nearly relaxed out of his crouch before casually walking into his curiosity’s trap. Power retained its guard, passively taking note of the violent stares and unjustified names being whispered from the shadowed stoop as Caleb hopped the curb. The carrot ceased dancing when it caught a glance of him, her arms finishing one final twirl before her right jutted out and her left fell limp. Without looking from her feet, she began to speak. “Hello, sir. Are you tired of stuffing processed junk down…?”

              Caleb dropped her voice from his senses for a few moments. His attention ran into his power’s curiosity. It paced around her, staring into her green smolder like an all-seeing globe. He could feel his power’s confusion as his head filled with its voice. ‘Do you have an explanation?’

              Its head hung next to Caleb in obvious defeat.

              “…would you like this coupon to help start you on your path to a healthier diet?”

              Caleb pulled himself into one again while feeling nearly invested in her. The carrot’s outstretched hand and down-turned head spoke to him; ‘Tensed shoulders, one foot slid carefully behind the other, shy but not defenseless, at least not in her mind. Been ages since I could read someone new. What’s that in the air? She’s nervous. Calm her.’ He gently reached out, taking the coupon between two fingers and smiling. “How much are they paying you to do this?”

              Her bowed head shook with a chuckle. “They don’t.”

              “So you volunteer, are insane, or have a carrot and health-food fetish. Quite an interesting choice for me to make now. Do I label you as nice, crazy, or obsessive?” Her body became relaxed until Caleb shifted slightly, which caused her hands to tense tightly. “Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you.”

              “You couldn’t if you tried, sir.” Her spunk confused and surprised him. His lips instinctively smiled to save face while turning around, sure the conversation had died. “You don’t look like everyone else in this part of town.”

              Caleb half-turned back to her. “What part? We’re ten seconds from downtown, and you haven’t looked above my shins.”

              “Fountain Square is two miles away, and you have dirty running shoes with plenty of rubber still on the bottom, which means you stopped caring recently. Wind breaker pants say comfort for someone moving fast and with no tears or wear really. Your hands aren’t rough enough to be from the streets, either. Apathetic, sheltered, runner.”

              His impression showed no physical sentiment. “If you look up, you’ll see a different story I think.”

              “Don’t take it personally. I’m just not very…personable.”

              “I think the word is shy.”

              “No…I’m just not good around…people.”

              “Well, I think you’re friendly for trying at least.”

              She let her foot swing and began mumbling under her breath, immature actions highlighted by her orange stockings. “I am…I guess, but I don’t know you and I’m like this when I don’t know someone.”

              “Fair enough.” He swung around completely and leaned on half a bench, slightly amused at her change in mood. ‘The gang has taken notice of us, Caleb.’

              ‘Good for them.’ “I’m genetically predispositioned to be shy. People have never freaked me out, though.”

              “What do you mean?”

              “I’ve got Asperger’s Syndrome.”

              She leaned her head upwards a little, her eyes appearing to view as far as his abdomen before going back to his feet. “You have it?”

              “Yes ma’am.”

              “I have it too.”

              Caleb laughed and scratched at his filthy scalp.

              ‘Small world, and unless you want a pile of dead bodies next to it I suggest we wrap this up. They’re pondering which one will be mugged first.’

              “There’s no way you could have it.”

              His eyes reset, and found her orange cheek shining back at him instead of the leafy top. Her eyes were safely averted to the brick wall as Caleb looked on. “I didn’t say anything that coul—”

              “Your face….” As she continued to respond, Caleb zoomed into her actions. Every eye roll and anxious hand motion nearly delighted him in its execution. ‘Something about her seems off. The world’s dull compared to this orange lass.’ “And a head scratch almost always indicates a lie, but your smile afterwards implies there was something ironic about my response, and that’s because you have the same social problems, but I think you’re lying to make me feel better.”

              “Ha! You glanced at the side of my face and think you can tell if I’m lying already?”

              She sighed heavily. “All right, I can’t tell for sure if I don’t look right at you.”

              “Aha, at least you’re truthful. Guess there’s only one way to find out then isn’t there?”

              Caleb felt a sharp jab to the kidney and saw a shadow walk up from behind the girl. “Drop the wallet and goodies on the sidewalk and everyone gets away healthy tonight brother.”

              ‘Where were you on that one?’

              ‘I was…distracted,’ his power snapped. ‘Still, they’re no problem. I’ll even let you handle them.’

              “You’re a peach.” Caleb pushed past his power’s lapse and fell into his rich subconscious. His right arm tensed as his hips turned fully into the pressure, his forearm smacking away the object imprinting his kidney. His left arm followed and snatched the small man by the collar, quickly tossing him ten feet onto the sidewalk. A small readying noise of a knife sounded as he brought his body back to the front. He took a stride and a half—‘Move –no, power deflect –can’t keep secret safe –faster, move, snatch feet –weapon –no, too much movement –forearm –forearm block, go from there, yeah yeah.’—and synchronized himself to the man’s knife swing. It came within his reach too quickly for the man to adjust and the blade was knocked away by Caleb’s forearm, the metal bending against the brick. He paused for a few seconds, considering his merciful options, but had the decision taken from him. The carrot took the cowering teen’s arm, twisted, and expertly slammed his fearful face into the wall. Caleb emerged from his power in time to watch her slam him again and hip-lock him to the pavement.