Old Porters

Chapter Twenty Six

Twenty Six

It had been a long day, and Roger did not want to be here, but they needed somewhere private to talk and neither of their houses offered that, so here they were, in Royal Park. The trees were bare, the street lights were not on, and the curving paths through the grass and shrubbery were empty.

Even thought the temperature was dropping from freezing cold to a bad day in the arctic and the hopeful blue sky had turned to an ominous blue, the teenagers sat on the climbing frame at the centre of an under twelve's play area in the north west corner of the park. It started rocking back and forward as the wind picked up and the old metal creaked as brightly coloured paint flakes fluttered away from the joints.

"That was a pretty impressive kick," he said. "You learn it at self defence?"

     "It was the class where we learned what to do when your best friend's mate turns into a monster," she replied. She had on a pair of Conversion trainers, her puffy grey coat with the hood up and blue jeans with frayed cuffs. Her skin was pale and looked like it would be cold to the touch.

"I'm your best friend?" Roger asked, secretly delighted. Kate did not reply, so after a moment, he said, "Who knew you could scream so loud?" He was trying to ease his way into the inevitable conversation, but she was not making it easy.

"That was Steve," she replied.

     "Course it was," he said with a heavy dose of doubt in his voice.

     "No really it was."

     "Really?" The vigilante asked. "Because I thought it was high for you, for Steve that was amazing."

     Kate said nothing. Roger looked down at his feet dangling three foot above the bark chips that covered the floor of the play area. He had on his black trainers with red laces. The ones from his costume. They did not go with his grey jeans or his grey cotton coat. He wished he had made more of an effort to look good for her, but he had been pre occupied with his missing hairs. It was not as bad as he had feared, but still looked weird.

     "Who are you?" she asked. "And don't just say 'you know who I am' because I don't. Clearly I don't."

     Roger sighed. Who was he? Why did this question keep coming up? She was right, she did not know him. Nobody knew him. He did not really know him.

Because Roger had not said anything for some time, Kate cleared her throat. He still said nothing. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He looked like he was a million miles away, thinking very hard about a question he did not know the answer to.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. "Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me you're a New Human?"

"I'm not---" Roger began.

     "Don't give me that," she interrupted. She said it calmly, but Roger heard it as an angry comment. "I saw you. The way you moved, it was too fast to be adrenalin. You kicked a six foot monst---" Kate shook her head, having fallen into something she did not want to say. "You kicked him about fifteen feet like it was nothing."

"I'm not a Newman," he insisted, thinking that it was more like twenty foot he had kicked Ben anyway. "Remember the accident I had in the summer at Mcoy's?"

Kate nodded, but because he was not looking at her, Roger did not see. She was forced to turn and touch his arm. He looked at her and they held the gaze for a few moments before she put her hand on his. He was right, her skin was cold, and she found his surprisingly warm.

Kate felt the bruises on Roger's knuckles with her palm. She looked at his hands. She did not know how she had not noticed them before. They were covered in cuts and scrapes. Some were fresh, others were not. It was hard for her to process that these hands, these swollen knuckles, belonged to Roger Watson.

"I got some sort of super soldier serum into my system. I'm basically more awesome now."

"And more humble," she muttered sarcastically.

     "So technically I'm not a Newman," the vigilante said, knowing that this was not about the dictionary definition of being a New Human.

"You still lied to me."

     "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, achieving nothing with his words. "But I freaked you out and I thought you'd think I was a monster."

"What do you mean, you freaked me out?" Kate's voice was cold, and the words hit the vigilante like slaps with a granite glove.

He said nothing. She squeezed his hand, not in a warm loving way, in a stress ball way. He did his best not to whine because of his tender knuckles.

"Roger," she snarled. "What did you mean, you freaked me out? When did you freak me out? Today or before?"

"You know you were shopping before the dance the other week and a guy in black and silver set the shop on fire, then another guy in black and red arrived and saved everyone's lives? Well..." he said cautiously.

"Sweet Christ!" Kate shouted as she jumped off the climbing frame and stared directly at him.

If looks could kill, Roger had the feeling his head would have just exploded.

"It was you wasn't it?" She bellowed. Her voice carried across the darkening park. It all came flooding back to her. She knew she had heard the yelp before, the one the guy in red and black had made when he was upside down. It was the summer before last. A bunch of kids from school had met up in the holidays. They had gone to that strip of sand on the shore that the council tried to tell everyone was a beach. Kate had just come out of the freezing cold sea and sat herself on Ryan's lap. He had a towel wrapped around him and she took it to warm up. Roger had yelped then started hyperventilating. Steve, Abe, Ben and Bolt had taken him home. "For God's sake Roger have you any idea what you put me through?"

"This is why I didn't tell you," he said softly.

     "Because you knew I'd be pissed off? Well lucky you, you're right again!" She slapped his knee, then kicked the climbing frame so hard that he felt it wobble, which hurt her foot more than she let on.

It was clearly time for the vigilante to get off the children's play equipment, so he hopped down. He stepped towards Kate, then remembered how she had taken down an armour plated New Human earlier, so stepped back.

"I didn't like keeping it from you but I didn't think you could handle it," Roger said. "Especially not after Ryan left---"

"I am not made of glass!" She hissed. "I don't need you wrapping me in cotton wool and making me look like an idiot."

"I didn't mean to make you feel like---"

     "Well you did! I was terrified of you Roger." She realised that she was crying. Again. She hated crying and she had done it so much recently. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and took a moment to calm down.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he muttered. "I was there to help."

"I don't think we should talk for a while," she said quietly.

     "Wait---" he said, but had nothing to follow up with. His chest hurt, like someone was twisting his insides. He had felt like this before around her. It had started the summer before last.

Kate started to leave and he felt like his legs had turned to stone. He wanted to chase her, but he got the feeling that it would make her run.

Roger's lip was trembling. "If you never speak to me again there's something you should know."

 Kate did not stop, she carried on walking towards the edge of the park and home.

"Ryan is alive."