Short Stories

Minor Complications

"Mary?" I looked up to the voice of the man I'm to meet for the blind date and instead, I see our city's superhero.

I should probably explain. I live in Wonderdust, a hectic city in a place you may visit one day - or not. Here, some people are born with attributes, or powers, if you will. And if you have more than one attribute, the government will "train" you to be a superhero - basically helping them do their job.

Golden is our city's prized possession. Not many people what he looks like; one of his attributes is shape-shifting. Another one is super-speed, but if he had more, he's keeping them to himself. And you can only tell it's him when his eyes turn into an amber pool.

So imagine my surprise when this man walks up to me using his attribute to pretend to be my date. And that's only because I was nosy enough to keep my attribute on to look at random strangers out of boredom.

I have my own attribute: I can see the truth.

Yes, it sounds simple, but I can will myself to see past every literal barrier people put up to hide it. So, for example, if the mayor's hiding how he pockets money from drug cartels and cheats on his pregnant wife, I can envision the circumstances that led to the "barrier." And if I can envision his opposition being funded by the wealthy who've profited from the suffering of the townspeople, all I have to do is stare him in the eye.

It's a way for me to make a profit, but of course, both sides of the aisle are looking for my head. So I operate with my two partners in crime and keep to myself. But of course, I was persuaded by said "partners" to come out to this random casino where this guy wanted to meet me.

To others, Golden looks like the Damien I was expecting to meet: blond, bespeckled, and lanky. In actuality, the real person is stocky, with skin the color of midnight, and bright eyes that can usually be the color of a dark amber. He smiled, but all I can envision is him discovering who I am and how like a panther, he'll easily devour me as a sense of his duty.

But still, he's not bad to look at, with an inviting smile and a warm face with laugh lines starting to set in. "Hi," I finally answered with a small and curt smile of my own.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as slinked into the chair opposite mine across the circular table. "I was a bit held up." His smile grew a bit wider as if he said a little joke, and then I saw:

"Oh my God," the actual Damien stuttered out. "It's really you."

"Yeah, it's me," Golden said tiredly in an illusion of a police officer. "And the jail is waiting for you." He leaned against Damien's car window and chastised him. "Why would you bet all your savings and then be dumb enough to try to rob a bank?"

"I know," Damien gushed out, "and what I did was bad, so you could just take me now - " He held his hands out to be cuffed when Golden spotted the phone in his lap.

"Mary Sampson?" Golden murmured.

"Oh, someone told me she knows you," he began. "I had to beg him to have me try to meet her. I'm really a huge fan of yours and - "

"Mary?" The fake Damien brought me back. It's time to turn off my mind now, I thought to myself. "You zoned out there; you okay?" His illusion almost looked real, but I can't help but think that behind those gray-blue eyes hides a furious fire that could burn me to a crisp.

"Sorry," I stammered; "I was just thinking about work." A simple lie should be enough.

"It's okay," Golden said. "I really don't know what I was thinking; bringing a beautiful woman such as yourself to a casino, of all places, for a date. I know another place that's a bit quieter if you'd like to - "