Disclaimer: Not that it comes as any surprise, but I don't own EE or any of its characters.
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Temporary Hero
by David Simms
Chapter 1
“And don’t forget to bundle up, folks. It’s going to be a frosty one.”
His hand emerged from beneath the blanket, feeling around for the alarm clock before shutting it off.
Meow and thump at the door.
Cough and sniffle from the bed. “Go abway,” Gary Hobson moaned, pulling the covers back even further over his head.
“Mrow.”
“No. I’b sick. All your fault.”
Knock, knock.
Gary sat up, his brows furrowed quizzically, and stared at the front door. Since when did Cat knock? “What?”
“Gar, it’s me.”
Gary flopped back onto his pillow. “Why me?” he sighed to himself. “Hode on.” Gary climbed out of bed and shuffled to the door, suddenly realizing he was still wearing his jeans and sweater from the night before, a night that to him had ended only three hours prior.
Chuck filed in after Cat, Sun-Times in hand, and headed for the kitchen. “You look like something the cat dragged in.”
“Oh ha ha,” Gary said, shuffling back to his bed and sliding under his blanket once again. “What do you want?”
Chuck finished pouring a glass of orange juice and carried it over to Gary. “To take care of the paper today.”
“No.”
“Here, drink this. Come on, Gar. You need me.”
Gary sat up and took the glass. “No.”
“I took the day off and everything.”
“Then why the suit?”
“If I’m gonna be a hero, I wanna look good doing it. What if I meet some sexy damsel in distress?”
“You save her and leave,” Gary responded, suddenly spilling his orange juice in a violent sneeze.
“Ewww.” Chuck grabbed a tissue and handed it to Gary. “Look pal, you’re in no condition to go out today. The paper hasn’t allowed you a decent rest in over a week and now you’re sick. Admit it, you need my help.” Chuck stood back and grinned.
“For the last tibe, no.”
“The way I see it, you don’t have much of a choice.”
“What do you bean?”
“See Gar, you can’t even talk right. What are you going to yell if someone’s in trouble? Wook out? Sorry buddy, but you’re going to stay in bed and sleep.”
Gary reached for the newspaper. “Gib it here.”
“Uh uh.” Chuck pulled it out of Gary’s reach and shrugged. “Like I said, you don’t have much of a choice. Stay in bed, drink plenty of fluids, and try not to spill them all over yourself. I’ll take care of the superhero business. Just think of me as Boy Wonder.” Chuck frowned at the amused expression on Gary’s face. “On second thought, don’t.”
“No gabbling.”
“I promise,” Chuck said crossing his heart, “I won’t gamble a single cent. Just to show you how sincere I am, here.” He removed the business section and set it on the bed. “Now do you believe me?”
Gary gave a begrudging nod.
“Good, now don’t worry about a thing. Chicago’s in safe hands.” Tucking the paper under his arm, he put on his sunglasses and strolled out of room 1611, the Blackstone Hotel, and into the streets of Chicago.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Do yourself a favor. Chew thoroughly.”
The elderly gentleman looked up at Chuck and frowned. “Is that supposed to be some wise-crack about my age?”
“No, it’s not. Look, if you’re not careful, you’re gonna choke on that sausage link.”
“Listen here, you. I don’t tell you to get a haircut, so don’t tell me how to eat my food.”
Chuck leaned against the table with both hands. “What’s wrong with my hair? Never mind. I’m just suggesting you be careful, alright?”
“I was eatin’ sausage links long before you were even suckin’ on your mama’s milk, so you can keep your Martha Stewart table manners to yourself.”
“Fine, if that’s the way you’re gonna be.” Chuck grabbed the sausage off the plate and popped it in his mouth. “You’re welcome.”
“That does it!” the old man stated firmly, picking up his cane.
“Bubye, have a nice day!” Chuck yelled behind him as he hurried out of the restaurant. “Crazy old coot,” he grumbled. “Okay, what’s next?” He retrieved the paper from his coat and skimmed the headlines. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The headline had changed but the picture of the man remained. MAN DIES OF HEART ATTACK MINUTES AFTER BEING ATTACKED IN RESTAURANT. “I didn’t even touch him!” Chuck lowered his voice after a passing woman gave him an odd look. “What are you looking at?” Rolling his eyes, he turned with a sigh and headed back into the restaurant.
“Get away from me,” the man ordered, reaching for his cane.
“Yo, buddy, chill out. I just want to apologize and pay for your breakfast. I’ll even order you some more sausage.”
The man simply lowered his cane and stared at the sausage thief.
Chuck stared back a moment when an idea struck him. “Are you on some sort of heart medication?”
“Yeah, what’s it to you?”
“I think you ought to take it.”
“I already took it toda… no, wait. That was yesterday.” He fumbled in his pocket for his pills.
Chuck gave an I-told-you look and tossed a $10 bill on the table. “There. Now lay off the sausage or those pills aren’t gonna save you from a heart attack.”
“Get a haircut.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chuck glanced at his watch as he approached the corner of Madison and Wells. In just a few moments, a thirty-something male was going to end up a comatose John Doe when crossing in front of a speeding truck. “Not on my watch,” he said. Rounding the corner, he immediately stepped back as a woman rushed past him. Chuck stared after her a moment, wondering if the story was a misprint until she made it across safely. Turning back, he immediately stuck out his arms and yelled “Halt” as the man pictured in the paper plowed right into him.
“You idiot!” the man yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?” Picking himself up off the ground, he crossed the street and continued running.
“You’re welcome!” Chuck called out after him. “See if I rescue you again! Lousy, ungrateful, good for nothing,” he muttered as he rubbed the back of his head and slowly stood up. “I guess it could have been worse.” Fishing the paper out of his inside coat pocket, his jaw dropped as the headline changed. JOHN DOE VICTIM OF HIT AND RUN had become LOCAL RESIDENT MURDERED IN SCHOOL YARD, CHILD KIDNAPPED. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.”
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Chapter 2
Deborah Watts flagged down a taxi and jumped in. “Dodge Elementary School, and please hurry.” Turning in her seat, she buried her face in her hands and cried. For months she had allowed herself to relax, to believe that she had finally escaped the psychotic clutches of her ex-husband. The abuse, the obsession, the horror of knowing that each breath could be her last, that he could snap at any moment and kill her just as easily as cross a street. She had foolishly believed the nightmare was over, only to have her hopes dashed and dreams shattered by his arrival in Chicago. Truth be told, she wasn’t so concerned over her own life as she was the welfare of their daughter. Not that he would hurt his little girl, but he was one of those people in life that didn’t deserve to be a parent. He was a bad, bad man. It was for their daughter that she’d divorced him, kept them on the run for five years, and would now have to pull her out of her first school to move once again.
“We are here, Miss.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chuck stood at the payphone and searched his pockets for loose change but came up empty. Not to let the paper beat him, he ran into a nearby convenience store. “You, lady, I need to use your phone.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but it’s for business use only,” the attendant said, smacking her lips on her gum.
“Fine, then give me change.” He tossed the dollar bill on the counter and folded his arms, tapping his foot on the floor impatiently.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you have to buy something first.”
“Listen, I don’t have time for this. I just want change for a dollar.”
“I’m sorry…”
“We’ve established that. Look lady, it’s a matter of life and death. If I don’t make a phone call, a little girl is going to be kidnapped and her mother killed. Unless you want that on your conscience, I suggest you help me.”
“Gum.”
“What?”
“A pack of gum. Costs ya a quarter plus tax. I can give you change then.”
Chuck stared at the woman a moment, irritation evident in his face. “Fine, then give me a pack of gum,” he said, emphasizing each word slowly so as to control himself.
“What flavor?”
“Tuna fish, I don’t care. I just want the change.”
The woman rang up a pack of Winter Fresh and handed him his change, which he promptly snatched from her hand and hurried back to the payphone. Looking up the school mentioned in the newspaper, he quickly called and told them to remove the girl from her classroom and warn the mother when she arrived that she was in danger. Satisfied, he opened the paper and checked the headline. FOUR KILLED IN HOSTAGE SITUATION. “Nooooo!” Chuck yelled, smacking his head with the phonebook and drawing the attention of all that were around him. “Okay Chuck, think. What would Gary do? The police! Call the police! Why didn’t I think of that before?”
After convincing the operator of the desperate situation, he hung up and crossed his fingers, checking the Sun-Times once again. POLICE BUNGLE HOSTAGE SITUATION, SEVEN DEAD. “Aw, come on!” He hailed a cab and proceeded to the school, turning the events of the last few minutes over in his head. Staring at the pictures of the victims, the answer finally dawned on him. “Wait a minute… That’s her.” Running his finger over the picture of Deborah Watts, he realized it was her that had raced across the street earlier. The John Doe he had saved from being hit by the speeding truck was the soon-to-be killer and he’d been chasing the woman. “That dirty rat,” he grumbled.
“Not my fault,” the cabbie stated over his shoulder in a thick accent. “I keep car clean. Last passenger must have left behind.”
“What?”
“What?”
Chuck peered up from the paper confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Dirty rat. Not mine. Please to take it with you.”
“That’s not the kind of rat I was talking about,” Chuck said, his eyes skimming the floor and back seat to be sure they were clean. “Do you think you can step on it a little?”
“The rat?”
“Yes, the rat,” Chuck said sarcastically. “No, the gas pedal.”
“Hold on.”
The taxi slithered through traffic like a snake in the grass closing in on its meal. It soon pulled up outside the school as another taxi pulled away. Mr. Doe walked towards the building and glanced over his shoulder before finally entering. Chuck leaped from the car and began to follow.
“Wait, money first!”
“Be right back!” Chuck yelled with a wave of his hand as he ran into the school. The man was no where in sight.
“Can I help you sir?”
Chuck turned and stood face to face with an attractive woman wearing a teacher’s badge. How about your phone number, he thought. “Where’s the main office?” he asked.
“Right over there.”
“Thank you.”
As Chuck expected, the scoundrel was waiting to speak with the secretary. Deciding he was running out of options, he jammed his hand in his pocket making it look like a gun and walked up next to the woman.
“Alright, this is a stick-up,” Chuck announced.
“Sir, this is a school. We don’t have any money.”
“You again!” the man exclaimed, shock, anger, and disbelief etched on his face.
“Where’s my money?” the cab driver asked as he poked his head inside the office.
The would-be hostage taker spun to see who else had entered the room.
Thinking quickly, Chuck grabbed the vase full of flowers from the secretary’s desk and smashed it over the guy’s head, sending him to the floor in an unconscious heap. “Maybe you’ll say thank you the next time someone saves your life, punk.” A victorious smile on his face, he turned back to the secretary who had quietly picked up the phone. “Don’t bother calling the police, sister. They’re already on their way.”
The cab driver continued to stare at the man on the ground, then finally looked up at Chuck, his eyes wide with fear. “Never mind money. Have a nice day.”
“No, wait. Here you go.” He reached into his wallet and handed him a twenty. “Keep the change. Sorry about the flowers Miss…”
“…G-Gutierrez,” she finished, her voice shaky.
“Gutierrez, right.” He removed another twenty and dropped it on her desk. “Buy yourself some more. Look, has Deborah Watts arrived yet?”
“Watts? Um,” The secretary fiddled with her pen trying to look casual. “We don’t have anyone here named Watts.”
“Don’t worry, he’s the guy that was after her,” Chuck said pointing at the guy on the floor draped in carnations. “I’m the guy that called and warned you.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The woman suddenly turned her attention to the door, looking past Chuck.
“Fishburn, what are you doing here?” came a voice from behind him.
Chuck froze where he stood, not wanting to turn but knowing he had to. “Hello, Crumb,” he sighed.
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Chapter 3
“Fishman. Not Fishburg, Fishburn, or Fishbutt. Fish… man… Like fisherman, but without the er.”
“Whatever,” Detective Crumb shrugged, exasperating Chuck. “Look, I just wanna know what you were doing there, and don’t give me that ‘right place, right time’ line your buddy Hobson always feeds me. As far as I can tell, there was no reason for you to be there.” He leaned forward and gave Chuck a knowing look. “Especially when you call in sick to work.”
“Actually, it’s Gary that’s sick. I took the day off to help him out. You know, run errands and stuff.”
“I see. So was sticking up an elementary school was on his things-to-do list?”
“Wait, I wasn’t actually…” he started to protest.
“I know,” Crumb said, putting up his hand and cutting Chuck off, “but I still want to know what you were doing there.”
“You want to know the truth?”
“I certainly didn’t invite you here for my health.”
“That’s what the hotdogs are for, right?”
“You getting’ smart with me, Fishbait?”
“FISH… MAN…”
“Whatever,”
Chuck sighed and slumped in his chair. “The truth is the guy ran right into me when I walked around a corner. I could tell he was chasing after the lady and it looked suspicious, so I followed them.”
“It looked suspicious,” Crumb repeated. “So that’s why you smashed a vase over his head? He hadn’t done anything yet.”
“Call it a hunch,” Chuck said dryly.
“Well, you’re lucky your hunch was right. I guess we all are. Turns out he was a real nutcase.”
“So, does this mean I’m free to go?”
Crumb stared at Chuck for a moment, enjoying making him squirm. “I guess, but stay outta trouble and outta my hair. I get enough headaches from Hobson. I don’t need them from you too.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Chuck crossed his heart for good measure.
“I’ll remember you said that. Now go on, get outta here,” Crumb said, immediately turning to the paperwork on his desk. He waited until the door closed then looked up and smiled shaking his head. “Fishbutt,” he said with a chuckle. “I gotta remember that one.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Three-car pile-up, no injuries,” he muttered, turning the page as he exited the police station. “Abandoned building burns down, no injuries or damage to any other property.” He shrugs and turns the page again. “What have we here? Topless dancer falls off stage and breaks her neck. Oooh, I think we know which one requires our attention.”
“Excuse me?”
Chuck quickly bunched the paper up and tucked it under his arm. “Yes?” he said as innocently as possible.
“Deborah, Deborah Watts,” She extended her hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” Chuck replied, feeling very much like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “How can I help you?” he asked, shaking her hand.
“According to the police officers in there, you already have. They said you were the one that clobbered my ex-husband.”
“It was nothing,” he said coolly. “The vase did all the work.”
“Well, I’d still like to repay you. Can I take you out for a drink or something?”
His eyes growing wide and a huge grin spreading across his face, Chuck looked at the beautiful woman and suddenly remembered his earlier conversation with Gary.
‘What if I meet some sexy damsel in distress?’ he’d asked.
‘You save her and leave.’
“Not this time,” he responded to Gary’s order, suddenly realizing he’d spoken out loud.
“Oh.”
“No, I mean, um, not right now. First I have a fire to put out, an accident to stop, and then a dancer to save.”
“What?”
“Nothing!” he said, suddenly looking like a deer caught in headlights.
“Now you’re just teasing me,” she said sorely.
“I’m not, I promise. What I mean is that I have some errands to run for the next couple hours. How about later on tonight?”
Deborah pulled a dangling strand of blond hair out of her face and crossed her arms, watching Chuck with her sky-blue eyes and trying to decide whether to believe him or not. Finally a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she nodded. “I guess that will work, but just to let you know, my daughter and Grandpa will have to come along if we go out this evening. I’d already promised to take them to dinner tonight, and now that Alec is locked up, I plan to keep my promise.”
“Uh, sure. Of course.” He fidgeted a moment then put on his most convincing smile. “I can’t wait to meet your grandpa and little Becky.”
Deborah’s brows furrowed and she took a half step back. “How did you know her name?”
“D-Didn’t you tell me?”
“No.”
Chuck shifted uneasily, mentally kicking himself. “I-I think Detective Crumb must have mentioned it.”
“I don’t mind saying that you’re a suspicious guy… buuuut you did come to my rescue today, and you seem pretty nice.”
“Oh, I am,” he swore. “In fact, I’m so nice that my friends say…”
“Don’t overdo it,” she interrupted with a smile.
“Got it.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card, handing it to Chuck. “Here, give me a call around 6:00. We can decide where to go then.”
“Right, 6:00,” he repeated.
She stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Talk to you then.” With a wink and a toss of her hair, Deborah turned and walked away.
“Yabba… dabba… doo,” Chuck said to himself and sighed heavily. A big smile on his face, he casually opened the paper, checked the time of the accident, then looked at his watch. “Uh oh.” Nearly stepping into the street, he whistled loudly and waved over a taxi. “Here we go again.”
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Chapter 4
“Wait here,” he instructed the cab driver as he handed him the fare. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sure thing.” He smiled, nodded, then drove away as soon as Chuck had taken a couple steps.
“Why do I bother?”
Removing the paper from his coat, Chuck carefully read the article once more. Three-year old Justin Wagner was going to run into the street to chase down his ball that had rolled away. Car number one was going to slam on its breaks causing the next two vehicles to slam into it. There would be no injuries, but if Gary would stop it, then so would he.
Chuck leaned against the building patiently, watching each of the shoppers that exited the small shops onto the sidewalk. Finally, a leggy woman in a red dress with a young child in tow emerged from the boutique. Not wanting to make another unnecessary mistake, he waited to make sure it was the right kid. As if on cue, the woman stopped to check her reflection in the window, letting go of her child’s hand just as he dropped his ball with the other. Life seemed to operate in slow-motion as Chuck found himself running towards the young boy, scooping him out of harm’s way at the last moment.
“What are you doing?” the woman screamed.
“It’s alright lady, I got…”
The woman slapped Chuck in the face and removed her child from his arms. “How dare you, you dirty man.”
“I just saved your kid’s life!” he protested. “He almost ran into the street.”
“Likely story.” She pulled Justin closer to her chest. “And what did you do with his ball?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He dropped his ball, it rolled into the street, and he chased after it.”
“You threw it, didn’t you?”
“What? Look woman,” he said, shaking his finger at her, “I’ve had just about enough…”
“Go get it,” she demanded, pointing towards the street. “Or I’ll scream.”
“You can’t threaten me,” Chuck said coolly, folding his arms stubbornly.
The woman glared at Chuck and opened her mouth to scream.
“Alright, alright.” He turned towards the street then shuttered as a car drove over and popped the ball. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head and slowly turned back towards the woman. “Oops,” he said dryly.
“Oops this. Ten bucks for that ball,” she said, holding out her hand.
Chuck bit his lip, forcing himself not to argue with the woman. He reached in his wallet and removed $10 of his remaining $30. “Have a nice day,” he said as sarcastically as he dared and walked away.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Hey pal, haven’t you had enough to drink?”
“I haven’t even ordered yet,” Chuck protested.
“I can smell the alcohol all over you,” the bartender said drying off a glass. “That and, what is that smell? You smell like a… like a fire extinguisher.”
“Fine.” Chuck gritted his teeth. “I’ll take a coke,” he said, reaching into his wallet and removing a single dollar. He searched the rest of the wallet and his pockets but came up empty. “Just forget the coke.” With a heavy sigh, he turned to leave then stopped when a group in the corner of the bar cheered loudly. Curiosity getting the better of him, he strolled over to see what was going on.
“Alright,” a heavyset man shouted, high-fiving his friend. “4 to 2. Game’s in the bag.”
Chuck glanced up at the hockey game on the television and turned to the sports page of the paper. A sly grin spread across his face and he put the paper away. “Nah, they don’t know how to hold on to a lead. I bet they still lose.”
“Are you kidding? There’s only two minutes left in the game.”
“I’m telling you, the Blackhawks just don’t have what it takes to beat off the Pens.”
The man scratched his bearded chin and laughed. “You’re telling me that the Penguins are down by two points with two minutes left in the game and the Blackhawks are gonna lose.”
“Maybe in over-time, but yeah, that’s what I’m telling you.”
“Care to put your money where your mouth is?”
Chuck shrugged, feigning indifference. “If you want. No big deal to me. How much?”
“I’ll make it easy on you. Twenty bucks.”
“That’s it? Sure.”
The man leaned back and smirked. “No big deal, huh? Alright, how about $50?”
“If you want. It’s your money.”
“Hey Bert, getta loada this guy. He just bet me fifty bucks the Hawks are gonna lose.”
Bert laughed, spewing beer all over himself. He wiped his chin and grinned. “Oh really? Do uh, you mind if I get in on the action?”
“If you want,” Chuck said calmly. “Like I told him, it’s your money.”
“$50 it is.”
“And Jagr scores on a one-timer with a minute ten left in the game,” the announcer said.
Bert looked back at Chuck who had tucked both lips in his mouth trying not to grin like a cheshire cat. Looking at his friend, he shrugged and nodded. “Okay, we’ll give them that one, but there ain’t no way they’re gonna…”
“Goal!” The announcer yelled. “With 30 seconds left, Jagr has tied the game with his fifth hat-trick this season.”
Both men turned and stared at Chuck who was beaming by now.
“And we’re going to over-time,” came the voice from the screen.
“How’d you do that?”
“Well,” Chuck said, trying not to look too confident, “I guess I just got lucky. But hey, they haven’t won yet. There’s still another period.”
“That’s right,” Bert agreed, “and we’re gonna kick your butt in over-time.”
Chuck pulled slightly at his collar. “Um, you mean the Blackhawks are going to kick the Penguins’ butt… don’t you?”
“Of course,” he said, patting Chuck hard on the back. “I didn’t mean we’d actually kick your butt.”
“Yeah,” his friend said. “People think we’re brutes, that we go around beating up people just because we’re bikers.” He put his hand over his heart and gave Chuck a sad face. “Once you get to know us, we’re pretty sensitive guys.” He sighed, batted his eyebrows, then turned to Bert and they began laughing.
Chuck’s smile slowly receded as he began to wonder if making the bets was such a good idea. “Uh, you know guys, i-if you want to call the bet off, I’d certainly understand.”
“What? You chickening out little man?”
“Who? What? Me? Oh no, of course not. No. I uh, just thought that you might want to…”
“Are you calling us chickens?”
Chuck forced a weak smile and swallowed hard. “Never in a million years would I call either of you fine gentlemen chickens.”
“So you’re saying we’re not good on our word?” Bert asked, grabbing Chuck by the front of his shirt.
Chuck shook his head vigorously. “No, sir.”
“Then just what are you saying?”
“Absolutely nothing.” He stood in the clutches of the large biker for several moments then added, “Go Blackhawks?”
“You’re okay,” Bert chuckled, putting Chuck in a headlock and messing his hair.
“Thank you,” he gasped.
“Why don’t you pull up a chair?” Bert suggested, letting go of Chuck. “Game’s not over yet.”
Chuck’s life flashed before his eyes during the next few minutes as the two bikers watched the game anxiously.
“And the Chicago Blackhawks go home with only one point as the Pittsburgh Penguins come from behind and win this one four minutes into over-time.”
Chuck grinned sheepishly as the two bikers stood and looked down at him, their lips curled in a snarl. Finally, one reached inside his leather coat and Chuck cringed, closing his eyes tightly expecting to hear the sound of a gun or switchblade. After a moment, he heard the rustle of paper and slowly opened one eye.
“Good call, little man,” Bert said, dropping a fifty on Chuck’s lap and smiling. “I guess that’ll teach me to make a bet with a guy in a suit.”
His friend reached down, grabbed the fifty, then stared at Chuck for a few seconds. Finally, a smile came over his face and he dropped a hundred in its place. “Sorry, but I didn’t have change.”
“That’s okay,” Chuck said blank-faced, just thankful he was still alive. “May I go now?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 5
“Gary told me you took over for him today,” said Marissa, then took a drink of her coke. “So, how’s the paper treating you?” She smiled and set her glass down. “You sounded a little upset when you called.
“Upset?” Chuck scoffed. “No, no, no, no. Upset is finding out your mailman has been reading your mail. Upset is making out with Buck-tooth Bonnie then discovering she purposely gave you the wrong answers to the science exam. Upset is a zipper accident minutes before the big date with the Rozinski twins. Upset is…”
Marissa put up her hand so stop him. “I get the idea,” she said, her smile diluted and forced.
“As I was saying, I’m beyond upset. Either Gary is Clark Kent in disguise, or the paper is punishing me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Today has been one nightmare after the next.” Chuck took a swig of his beer and leaned forward. “Every little thing I did the paper turned against me. So either Gary’s days are a lot worse than he lets on, or the paper is paying me back.”
Marissa smirked at Chuck skeptically. “Paying you back.”
“Yeah.” Chuck lowered his voice and spoke conspiratorially. “You know, for trying to make a little profit off it.”
“Little?”
“Okay, so I’d like to be rich. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing as long as you don’t do it with the help of the paper. You know the rules.”
“What rules? It doesn’t exactly come with an instruction booklet.”
“That’s not the point,” Marissa sighed. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened or what?”
“It was the worst day of my life,” Chuck said dramatically. “It starts off with something simple. Old guy chokes on his sausage, has a heart attack and dies. Easy enough, right? Wrong. He tried to take my head off with a cane.”
“Why,” she chuckled.
“I don’t know,” Chuck shrugged, slumping against his seat flabbergasted. “When he refused to listen to me, I ate his sausage. That’s all.”
“You ate his sausage?” Marissa asked, more amused than surprised.
“Hey, I’m new at this superhero stuff, alright sister?”
“So what happened next?”
“I paid for his breakfast, then got away as soon as I could. After that, I saved a guy from being hit by a truck.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
“Nothing, except for the fact that he was a mental case.” He shook his head and drank the last of his beer. “Turns out the accident would have stopped him from killing some woman and kidnapping her little girl.”
“You stopped him didn’t you?”
“Yeah, eventually. The woman was going to be killed at her daughter’s school, so I called the school. What happens? One death becomes four in a hostage situation. No problem, I call the police. Does that take care of it? Of course not!” Chuck looked around the room then lowered his voice again. “Chicago’s finest was going to let four deaths turn into seven.”
“Oh my goodness. What did you do?” Marissa asked, completely engrossed in the story.
“I knocked him out,” Chuck said nonchalantly.
“You fought the guy?”
“Of course. You think I’m some sort of sissy?”… Okay, so I blind-sided him with a vase. But I hit him pretty hard.”
“My hero,” Marissa smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Make fun if you want, but I was somebody’s hero. After being interrogated by Detective can’t-say-Fishman Crumb, the lady the psycho was after asked me out.”
“Congratulations.”
“What? You don’t actually think the paper is going to let me go, do you?” Chuck griped.
“So there’s more saves tonight?”
“Just one late this evening, but that doesn’t mean anything. The paper still has two hours to ruin my night.”
“Now you’re being paranoid.” Marissa finished her coke and Chuck waved the waiter over.
“Oh yeah? After I left the police station, I went to stop a little kid from running into the middle of the street and causing a traffic accident. Does the devil in the red dress thank me for rescuing her child? Of course not. She thought I was kidnapping him and slapped me.”
Marissa bit her lip to keep from laughing. “So you had a little bad luck.”
“Oh, but the fun doesn’t end there. After putting out a fire, I rushed over to a strip club to save a girl’s neck, literally.”
“What happened?” Marissa asked, somehow not sure she really wanted to know.
“I made it to the stage just as she fell off.”
“Did you catch her?”
“Oh yeah, I caught her. Then I caught her right-cross and a drink with my face.” Chuck frowned at Marissa’s grin. “Hey, it’s not my fault she fell forward instead of backward.”
“Okay, so you’ve had a bad day.”
“Not to mention the money,” Chuck said, drumming his fingers on the table. “I spent a hundred bucks out of my own pocket.”
Marissa smiled and propped her head up on one hand. “Does that mean I’m buying the drinks this time?”
“What? No, don’t worry. I got it covered. I didn’t lose the money for very long.”
“Chuck, you didn’t.”
Chuck simply cleared his throat and hummed nothing in particular.
“You did, didn’t you? You made money off the paper.”
“No,” Chuck said in a matter of fact voice, “I made money off of two very large bikers. The paper just helped.”
“Shame on you,” Marissa chided. “I can’t believe you gambled after Gary trusted you.”
“Technically it’s not gambling if you know what’s going to happen.”
“Chuck.”
“Hey, I only made back what I had to spend, which means I didn’t make a profit. You’ve got to give me credit for that.”
“Well, I suppose,” Marissa grinned. “At any rate, I’m very proud of you for helping Gary and being the temporary hero.”
“Thank you,” Chuck said, thankful for the recognition.
“You’re welcome,” Marissa said, fighting the urge not to laugh, “…Boy Wonder.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 6
"You!" Chuck exclaimed.
"You!" the old man growled, shaking his cane.
"I take it you two know each other," Deborah said, confusion etched on her face.
"He tried to take my head off with that cane."
"He ate my sausage."
"I was saving your life," Chuck protested.
"That seems to be a habit with you." Deborah smiled and patted Chuck on the cheek. "Now, promise me to leave his food alone, and Grandpa, promise me you won't do him bodily harm."
"This is Grandpa?"
"Not by blood, no. He lives in our apartment building and we sort of adopted each other. Now, promise me you'll behave or dinner is off."
Chuck glared at the old man for a moment then shrugged. "Just make sure he keeps that cane where I can see it."
"You still need a haircut," Grandpa smirked. "Oh alright," he said seeing the look on Deborah's face, "I promise not to hurt Shaggy here as long as he keeps his paws off my plate."
Deborah grinned and shook her head. "And I thought this was going to be a quiet evening. I'd ask about your sausage incident but I don't think I want to know. Let's just try and get through the evening and enjoy our dinner."
"You bet," Grandpa said. "Can't go wrong with a good buffet, I always say."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"If you all will excuse me," Grandpa said standing up, "I have to see a man about a horse."
Chuck waited until he left then turned to Deborah. "I know he's on heart medicine. Is there any other medication he may have forgotten today?"
Deborah chuckled and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. "It's just an expression. It means he has to use the bathroom."
"Potty," Becky offered.
"May I be forward with you?" Deborah asked propping her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands.
"Please do," Chuck said glassy-eyed and smiling seductively.
"First of all, Ruby apologizes for punching you and throwing that drink in your face."
"E-excuse me," Chuck stammered.
"The dancer, the one that was supposed to break her neck. She says she's sorry."
"Um... I-I'm not sure what you're talking about." He picked up his glass of water and took a large gulp trying to hide his nervousness.
"Chuck, you're a sweet man, and I like you, so don't like to me. It's not very becoming." She stared at Chuck a moment who was obviously at a loss for words. "I believe that you really did save Grandpa's life this morning. He's always forgetting to take his pills. I'm thinking that he was probably going to choke on the sausage, which would have triggered his heart attack, or maybe he was going to have the heart attack, which would have caused him to choke on his sausage. Something like that?"
"Um."
"Then there was your appearance on that street corner earlier."
"You remember that?"
"I have a photographic memory when it comes to faces, even if I was in a hurry. You slowed my ex-husband down long enough for me to grab a taxi. At least, I assume that's what you were doing. Then of course you just happened to show up at the school. I couldn't figure out why you would have done that, but when we were outside the police station earlier, I overheard you mumble something about a dancer falling off a stage and breaking her neck while you were looking at your newspaper. I'd already read the paper cover to cover and there wasn't any article about a dancer. That seemed odd too, so after we parted company, I followed you."
"You what?" Chuck said, not sure if he was upset, nervous, or just shocked.
"I'm sorry, but you have to understand something. I've had really bad luck with men... as you can tell. You seemed nice, but I had to find out what I was getting myself into if I was going to see you tonight."
"So you followed me." He folded his arms and leaned back.
"Yes, and you followed me to the school," Deborah reminded him.
"Who's up for dessert?" Grandpa asked as he sat down.
"Me!" Becky said raising her hand.
"Grandpa, why don't you take her over to the dessert counter to pick something out."
"Okay spunky, let's you and me go get some ice cream."
"As I was saying," Deborah continued after they left, "I saw you save some little kid from running into the street, then you ran into an abandoned building with a fire extinguisher, then I saw you go into a club and come out just a minute or two later, so I... I went and asked what had happened."
"Listen Deborah, maybe this isn't such a..."
"The girl said she fell off the stage and you caught her. If you hadn't been there, she could have broken her neck. She was just embarrassed which is why she did what she did."
"Dumb luck. I was just there dropping off an application." Chuck shifted in his seat trying to look casual and laid his hands on the table.
"For what position, a bouncer?" she smirked.
"No, a dancer," Chuck said sarcastically. "I think I should probably..."
"I know your secret."
"You uh, know what secret?"
"I didn't think it was possible. I mean, I didn't even believe in the stuff until now."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"It's okay, Chuck," she said, resting her hand on top of his. "I promise not to tell anyone. I just have one question."
"What's that?"
"How long have you been psychic? I mean, have you always been able to see the future, or has it developed slowly over the years?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter 7
“I’m telling you Gar, the woman was nuts,” Chuck said as he paced the floor. “Her ex is a legitimate psycho, but she has a few screws loose herself. I guess that explains how they got together in the first place.
“I tode you,” Gary said, wiping his nose. “Save and go.”
“Yeah, well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m out of the superhero business. The paper obviously doesn’t like me, so if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to go back to the way things were. You can go back to saving Gotham if you want, but I want my life back.”
“Not so easy, is it?” Gary smirked.
“First day on the job and I was threatened with a cane by an old man, knocked to the ground, slapped by two women, and had a drink thrown in my face. Can you believe that out of all the people I saved today, the only one that thanked me turned out to be a screwball?” Chuck tossed the paper on the bed. “I gotta give you credit, Gar. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Save and go,” Gary said as he reached for more tissue. “Save and go.”
“Well, I saved, and now I’m going.”
“Nothing else?”
“A woman gets her purse stolen, but she doesn’t get injured.”
“Chu... nyyuuu...” Gary wrinkled his nose fending off a sneeze. “Chuck, you have to take care of it.”
“Gar, I’m tired, I’m sore, I’m cranky, and more importantly, I don’t care. If the people we save don’t care, if they’re not thankful, then why should we care?”
“Because it’s our job.”
“No pal, it’s your job.” Chuck shrugged and wandered back to the door. “Sorry buddy, but there’s a reason the paper comes to you and not to me.”
“Chuck, please, just this last one. I can’t go out like this or I’d do it.”
“Alright,” Chuck sighed, “I’ll do it, but I’ll be by in the morning for the sports section.” Leaving the paper behind, Chuck exited the Blackstone Hotel and made his way to the final save of the day.
Picking up the paper, Gary checked it from cover to cover but could find nothing about a stolen purse.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chuck stood beneath the street lamp and rubbed his hands to keep them warm. He glanced at his watch to check the time, suddenly wishing he had brought the paper to make sure he had the right location. Moments later, a young woman rounded the corner walking quickly and checking over her shoulder. Hurrying up the steps to an apartment building, she fidgeted nervously with her keys. Before Chuck could react, another person rounded the corner and ran up to the woman.
“Hey, get away from her!” Chuck yelled as he ran over to them, hoping it would be enough to scare the thief away.
Paying no attention, the dark figure grabbed the purse and pushed Chuck, sending him sprawling down the cement steps. As quickly as it began, the incident was over. The young woman was robbed, the thief got away with the purse, and Chuck lay on the ground, a trickle of blood and consciousness slipping away.
And then he awoke.
“What happened? Where am I?” he asked, trying to sit up.
“Don’t move,” she said, dabbing gently at his forehead with a cold wet cloth. “You’ve got a nasty little bump. And you’re in my apartment.”
Chuck sighed and closed his eyes when he recognized her as the girl on the steps. “I’m sorry. I tried to...”
She touched his lips with her fingertips to quiet him. “It’s okay,” she said. Her eyes sparkled and a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “You tried, that’s all that counts. And for that I thank you.”
“But he got away.”
“You can’t save everybody. What’s important is that you made the effort because it was the right thing to do.”
Chuck stared up into the young woman’s eyes, mesmerized by her beauty and struck by her statement. “You... you said thank you.”
“Of course I did, silly. You did a brave thing.” She slowly ran her hand down his cheek. “You committed a selfless act for a complete stranger.”
Chuck was instantly reminded of his parting words to Gary. ‘I’ll do it, but I’ll be by in the morning for the sports section.’ He’d agreed to help this woman so long as he was rewarded handsomely for doing so. “Not so selfless,” he muttered to himself. “How much did he get?”
“Sixty. It’s not a lot, but it’s all I had left. I guess that will teach me to go to the ATM so late at night by myself.” She stood and walked into the kitchen. “Would you like a glass of water? Maybe something for that headache?”
“Sure. That would be nice.” Chuck sat up and looked around the apartment. “What’s with the luggage? You going on a trip?”
“Moving out,” she said, returning with the water and aspirin. “I can’t afford to live here any longer and I have to be out tomorrow. That money was supposed to be my bus fare back to my parents’ home, but it looks like I’ll have to come up with something else.”
“No you won’t.” Chuck retrieved his wallet and removed the remaining $60 from his hockey wager. “This should get you your ticket.”
“I can’t accept your money.”
“You have to, please.” He took the water and aspirin and laid the money in her hand. “Trust me, I’ll feel a lot better if you do.”
“Thank you again,” she said. She stared at the money in her hand then leaned down and kissed Chuck on the cheek. “I just wish there was something I could do for you.”
“You’ve already done it. You said thank you.” Chuck swallowed the aspirin then moved over on the couch for her to sit.
They continued to visit for several hours before Chuck decided it was time to go.
“I wish you didn’t have to move. I’ve really enjoyed your company.”
“I’ve enjoyed yours too.”
“If you knew what kind of day I’ve had, you’d understand just how much I needed this.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” she said smiling.
“Listen, it’s a long walk back home, so I better get started.”
She walked Chuck to the front door of the building and kissed him on the cheek one last time. “Don’t worry, Chuck. I have a feeling things will turn out okay.”
Chuck frowned slightly, suddenly realizing that in the several hours they’d visited he’d never gotten her name. As he opened his mouth to speak, she once again placed her fingertips on his lips, smiled, and shook her head. Perplexed by the whole situation, he just nodded, feigning understanding, then walked away.
A few blocks later, he stopped and turned back. Not only had he not thought to ask her name, but she’d called him Chuck without him ever telling her his. As he rounded the corner, he stopped in his tracks and stared at the vacant building. All the windows in the five-story apartment were boarded up except those that were broken and the front doors sealed with a lock and chain. It appeared as if it hadn’t been used in several years. Chuck looked around to make sure he had the right street, then slowly sat on the steps shocked and confused.
Across the street in a dark doorway, she scratched Cat behind the ears and tucked $60 under his collar. “He’s no Gary Hobson, but he’s still a good man.” She smiled and set the tabby on the ground. “It’s about time for you to go home yourself, my friend.”
Cat rubbed against her ankles then crossed the street. “Meow.” He ran past Chuck, money falling out of his collar as he did so.
Chuck bent over, picked up the money, and slowly unfolded it. “Okay, Gar is NOT going to believe this.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“And there it was, just laying right in front of me.”
“You bet on the hockey game?”
“Come on Gar, keep up with me here. I’m telling you, she was some sort of... I don’t know... newspaper angel.”
“I can’t believe you bet on the hockey game.”
“Gar, this is me we’re talking about, Chuck Fishman. I’ve bet on the Bud Bowl.”
“But you promised.” Gary glared at Chuck, his eyes still red and puffy.
“I said I wouldn’t gamble, and I didn’t. Now will you forget about that? This could be a whole new revelation about the paper.”
“I think you hit your head harder than you thought.”
“That’s not funny. I’m telling you, it was this whole epiphany thing. I’m a changed man, Gar.”
“That’s great. Now hand me my jacket.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out.” Gary swallowed the last of his coffee and picked up the paper. “You said you didn’t want to help anymore, so I have to go. This isn’t the kind of job you call in sick on.”
“I’m sorry, really. Listen, you’re not talking through your nose, but you’re still sick. You need another day in bed.”
“I’ll be fine.” Gary rubbed the bridge of his nose and yawned.
“I’m asking you to let me do it one more day. I know it sounds crazy, but the paper gave me another chance, so I’m asking you to do the same.”
“You didn’t want anything to do with the paper last night, and now you’re wanting to go out and save the world.”
“I told you. I had this whole...”
“Epiphany thing, I know. I’ve got a feeling I’m going to regret this, but here.” Gary handed Chuck the paper. “And uh, thanks.”
“That’s what friends are for.” Chuck tucked the paper in his coat and walked to the door. “See ya later,” he called back over his shoulder, closing the door behind him.
“No betting!” Gary suddenly yelled out. “You hear me?! Chuck, get back here! Chuck!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The End
Email the author: mrdavidsimms@hotmail.com
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