Proud Machinery

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Rod didn't crave metal as much now as when his powers were growing, but sometimes he still got hungry for it. The easiest metal to eat that they'd found so far were bolts bought in a big, inexpensive bag. Rod swung the bag onto his shoulder and brought it up to the hardware store's front desk.

"I've been seeing you in here a lot, lately," said Gary, behind the counter. "What're you building, Rod? A treehouse?"

"I think you're going senile, Gary. I think you think I'm seven."

The older man rolled his eyes. "Boy, someday someone's going to smack you."

"Oh, Dad does that all the time. That's why I have such poor self-esteem."

"And if you keep talking like that, you're going to get your father in trouble. Not everyone understands your sense of humor."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Rod headed through the store toward the back door. He should probably start going to some big box hardware store for his metal needs, where there would be no one to notice how often he came in and get suspicious. But he'd wanted to throw Gary a bone. He knew from Dad the store wasn't doing that great, lately, and Stephanie had plenty of money to throw away on metal, which is why they hadn't bothered to find a cheaper source of it.

There was someone in his way, blocking the back door. Rod blinked in surprise. People didn't normally get in his way.

It was Sammy Lecker, one of the most annoying kids in Rod's schoolyear and now definitely the most annoying Blue. "Wh—What are you doing here?" he asked, annoyingly.

"You understand that's an idiotic question, right? I assume you're here for the same reason. Do me a favor and tell Gary you're building a treehouse."

"You can't—you can't come here anymore. This is where we come."

Rod couldn't help laughing. "Dude, maybe try that again later when you've got the big boys with you. Because as it is it just comes across as adorable."

He surged past Sammy, knocking him with his shoulder, and out the back door. It opened onto a parking lot shared between the hardware store and the Indian restaurant next door. The restaurant didn't open until noon, so the parking lot was empty, and the road wasn't visible from here.

"I'm serious," said Sammy from behind him.

Rod stopped and turned to face the kid. "No you're not."

"What?"

"You're not serious. Unless you're genuinely stupid. You genuinely stupid, Sammy?"

Sammy's face got very red very quick. "You don't come here anymore. None of you. We're not—we're not establishing that pattern."

Rod thought about that for a second. Then he leaned back and kicked the brick wall next to Sammy. He kicked it hard enough that it cracked, and when he put his foot down bits of brick crumbled off and fell to the ground. "See you later, Sammy-lammy," he said as he turned and walked away.

Something hit Rod square in the back. Buzzing, metallic pain roared from the center of his back down through his legs, and he collapsed, convulsing, to the ground. His cheek hit the hard, rocky asphalt. He tried to push himself up, but his arms weren't working right. He hurt. He hurt. He hurt.

Finally he got his body under control again and pushed himself to his feet.

Sammy was almost out of the parking lot, and when he looked back and saw Rod getting up he started to run.

With Rod's super-legs, it only took a moment to catch up.

#

Connor and Stephanie were playing a flower-colored video game meant for little girls when Rod got back from the hardware store. "I come bearing scrap metal," he said, dropping a jangling bag on the floor by the couch. "Do you wanna get lunch and have some of these for desert?"