Super

8 - pt 1 - Balls of Steel

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. La Cosa Nostra (mentioned) was a real crime family, however, LA FAMIGLIA NOSTRA DOES NOT, NOR HAS IT EVER EXISTED. Unless it does ;)

"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever."

– Mahatma Gandhi

A dot on the radar, we blinked out and back in half a second flat. Just like last time, it was like taking one giant step. One second we were in one place, the next, in another. IH smiled proudly as I took in the landscape around me: at the hills stretching for miles, bathed in the golden glow of the late afternoon sun. Even IH's tousled, liquorice hair glowed gold around the edges, like his very own halo.

"Where are we?" I asked in awe, gazing out at the trees and fields of long grass and wheat. "New York state?"

"Guess again," IH's lips twitched as he resisted the urge to grin.

"Um, Pennsylvania?" I asked hopefully. I'd always wanted to go to Pennsylvania. It was where Terry had originally wanted to go to college. This time, IH's face really did break out into a grin.

"Close..." He mused, "kinda..."

"Uhh..."I wracked my brains for anything I could remember about American geography. It was hard. Loads of states had hills. And trees. And grass.

"New Hampshire?" I guessed with no real confidence.

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" He cheered, pumping his fists in the air. Sobering, he took my hand and led me to a little patch of grass. From there, we could see everything stretched in front of us. I settled into his chest as his right arm wound its way around my shoulders, interlocking his hand with mine and using the other to pluck at the rubbery strands of grass. We stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon while IH explained everything, my mind reeling the whole time.

✩✩✩

By the time IH had finished explaining everything, the sun had begun its descent and the sky had been transformed into a canvas of pastel colours, the clouds resembling giant tufts of pink and blue cotton candy. Rays of setting sunlight filtered across the sky, fizzing like orange soda and transforming the hills into huge scoops of peach sorbet. Tall trees became creamsicles in the dimming glow and birds silhouetted against the orange sky became nothing more than dark shapes pumping their wings through the vibrant sea of colour. 

IH had done a lot of following people around invisibly (I still insisted it was stalking) and found out that Mateo Vitelli answered to Mayor Collins. Why my dad wanted to get rid of the president, I didn't know. He was always pro-Xavier at home. It was my mom who wasn't a fan of the president in my household.

According to IH, dad hired Vitelli to find out something – anything – incriminating enough to open up President Xavier to scandal and ultimately get him kicked out of office. With La Famiglia Nostra family still bitter about getting knocked down earlier this decade, Mateo hadn't objected, and I had a sneaking suspicion he was responsible for the rapid disappearance of the other supers. With them out of the way, he only had the secret service to get through, and compared to kidnapping other supers, taking out the secret service would be a piece of cake.

All of it made sense except about my dad being behind everything. Why was he trying so hard to dish up dirt on President Xavier? Did he want presidency for himself? Even if something happened to the president, there was no way my dad would get elected. He was popular in New York, but he was only the mayor. Sure, he was running for State Senator, but I doubted anyone in California had heard of him, let alone would vote for him in an upcoming election. These were the questions that plagued my brain throughout fourth period history class the next day where we were studying, wouldn't you know it, the history of the Italian mafia.