The Super Killer

Ch.12

Heather opened the door to Gracie's room and felt a wave of heat rush past her face. She said, "Good morning. Time to wake up."

Gracie was sprawled out on the top of her bed wearing a long-sleeved Wonder Woman shirt. Her arm looked to be in an impossible position, but she quickly and elegantly untangled herself and popped up to say, "I don't want to go to school."

"Is there a math exam?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Okay, there's a test."

"Did you study?"

"Gran helped me a bit."

"Gran's a smart woman. I'm sure you'll be fine." You're doomed! "Why don't you get dressed, and we'll go over some flashcards after breakfast?"

Gracie rolled her eyes and coughed unconvincingly. "Only if this fever goes away. Maybe I should quarantine for ten days."

"You have five minutes." Heather left the stuffy room and walked to the end of the hallway, past the line of family photos on the otherwise bare, white wall. She opened the door to Cheryl's room and found her still asleep under a pile of sheets. Her bedroom window was wide open. "Cheryl, honey, it's time to wake up." But Cheryl didn't move, so Heather stepped closer. "Cheryl, are you awake?"

"I'm up."

"Oh good. Why don't you freshen up and join your sister downstairs?"

"Can I stay in bed?"

"What's the matter? Are you feeling sick?"

"I had a bad dream."

Heather felt stunned and sat on the edge of the small twin bed. Her daughter looked tired with puffy bags under her otherwise bright eyes. "Come here. Do you want to tell me about your dream?"

"I don't want to get in trouble."

"You won't get in trouble for anything that happens in a dream. Most of the time they're meaningless."

Cheryl buried her head into Heather's shoulder. "But I hurt someone."

Heather's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

"I had superpowers, and I hurt someone with them."

Heather breathed a sigh of relief. "Who did you hurt?"

"Wonder Woman," Cheryl said. "I didn't want to, but a man made me do it."

Heather hugged her daughter. "That sounds scary. But don't worry, dreams are your brain making things up because it's bored at night. What you do in dreams doesn't happen in real life."

"Promise?"

Heather stuck out her pinkie finger. "Super promise. How about you close your eyes for another ten minutes while breakfast is getting ready." She kissed her daughter's forehead. "I'll be right back."

Heather closed the door to Cheryl's room just as Gracie peeked her head out from the bathroom. "Is Cheryl staying home?"

"No."

"If Cheryl's sick, I'm sick!"

"That's not how it works."

Gracie rolled her eyes. "I wish I was sick."

"What's ten times ten?"

"One hundred."

"Ten times twenty?"

"Two hundred. Come on, give me the hard stuff."

Heather scrolled through the flashcard app on her phone while noticing out of the corner of her eyes the other parents at the bus stop. They were staring at her but pretending to be on their phones. "What's fourteen times twelve?"

Gracie bobbed up and down while she thought. "One hundred and sixty...eight."

"Very good. You have nothing to worry about." The bus pulled up. She hugged Gracie. "I love you." She hugged Cheryl. "I love you."

Gracie darted past all the other kids and leapt up the bus stairs. Cheryl hesitated and gave her mother a big hug before leaving for the bus. Heather was content as she watched the bus leave the quiet street. She then felt a tap on her shoulder. It was the same mother from the other day who called the principal.

She asked, "Are you that reporter I'm seeing everywhere?"

"Yes," Heather said, flicking her hair back, "that's me."

The mother in the coal-coloured pantsuit was practically fanning herself. "Oh my goodness, it's like knowing a celebrity. Is it too much to ask for a photo? My friends would lose their minds."

Heather didn't skip a beat. "Fucking fuck yes you can have a photo." She smiled for the camera. "Anything for a fan."

When Heather arrived at work, she was greeted like a hero returning from war. There were several standing ovations with unrelenting applause that could have ruptured eardrums. There were handshakes and quick introductions with colleagues Heather had never met and would never remember. It was borderline pandemonium, and it was more attention than Heather had ever received in her entire life. Every movement she made was applauded. She even had an array of colourful bouquets waiting on her desk. Heather closed the door to her office and sat at her desk looking out at the sea of praise. She slid her hands behind her head and thought, Please let this work.

There was a knock at the door and Amber walked in. "Hello, Heather." She sat at her desk and moved a fruit basket to the side. "My goodness, you look night and day from the last time I saw you."

"I did go through something deeply traumatic."

"And you rebound well. I like that." Amber straightened a line of cards on Heather's desk. "I'm glad you're better because I have a favour to ask of you."

"Will it put my life in danger?"

She let her eyes wander above Heather's head. "Hear me out."

"No, the answer is no."

"What do you think comes with fame? Do you think you can just sit around with your feet up and money coming out of your pockets like you're a cartoon? Once you get here, you have to work harder to stay here."

"Just to let you know, Kevin has a vote in anything you ask me to do."

"That's cute. I like that, too." Amber wrote an address on the back of a card. "I need you to do an interview."

"That's it? Why did it sound like I was going into Mount Doom?" Heather took the card and read the address: 1211 Avenue of the Supers. "I'll take Mount Doom."

"This is the price of stardom."

"Take it back."

Amber's response was sharp and intense. "Leave the cute stuff for home. These people may be the bane of our existence, but they're strategically brilliant and control a large portion of the population. If you can manage basic competence for fifteen minutes, then their audience becomes your audience for an entire day. That's a lot of people visiting the Daily Globe to find you and your work."

"But Fox, really? Why can't I start with something less vomit inducing?"

"They're no different from the others, including us. You'll get talking points, and I'll coach you through everything. But I have a feeling you'll be fine."

Heather took her prescription bottle from her bag. "Just let me use the bathroom."