Flyover City! A Novel (with Superheroes)

16. Spliff Mix

Over the last few days, life has pretty much gotten back to normal. I realize that's a patently ludicrous thing for someone to say after they've been attacked by a rampaging, laser-gazing mutant, but it's true, nonetheless.

Work's going alright, I guess. The Hypeport is operational in 7 different test markets now, so we'll be pretty busy until all the bugs are worked out. Customer's phone calls are dropping all over the place, their televisions are switching channels at random, and yesterday, I had a basic cable subscriber who suddenly had access to 372 channels worth of telenovelas and Japanese game shows, but couldn't find a single episode of Spongebob for his kid. So my job is pretty secure, at least. They need guys like me around. Guys who can say things like, "Our engineers are working on that" without bursting into laughter.

Oh, and Gwen actually smiled and said hi when we passed each other in the lobby the other day. Though I'm not sure whether that qualifies as "back to normal" or a "complete and total turnaround" considering how long she's been ignoring me for.

Work, go to the gym, hang out with Spliff. I finally made good on my date with Nora, but no repeat of a couple weeks ago. Which is probably good, "No sex before a fight" and all that. Especially considering that I've never even been in a real fight yet, not in my whole life. I really need to sign up for a karate class, or something.

I've been kind of anxious, to be honest, worried that maybe things are getting just a little too normal. While I'm out bowling or answering phone calls, all signs of danger and excitement in my life scabbing over, The Agency is in Colorado, conducting an investigation into the origins of the rogue kaiju. I'm hoping that maybe being in the middle of a superhero fight is like being struck by lighting, where you're whatever-percent more likely to have it happen again, after you've been through it once.

I'll be the first person to admit I've got a one track mind right now. Everywhere I look, I see evidence of heroes and villains, conspiracies and dastardly deeds. When it snowed last Thursday after it was 70 degrees all week, I was convinced that Coldfront had escaped from prison again. In reality, it's just "Springtime in the Rockies". Which totally screwed with my a.m. routine, by the way.

This morning: It's finally warmed up enough for me to get my running shoes back on and hit the pavement. I stretched for a couple minutes, wringing the cold out of my muscles, before turning my attention to my little iPod shuffle.

As is usually the case, after witnessing some particularly good action together, Spliff and I are currently waist deep in a virtual love fest. He's realized that he's been kind of a jerk about my getting healthy, so to make up for it, he's created what he calls the "Ultimate Hero Playlist".

I pushed the earbuds as deep into my head as I could, to prevent them from dropping out mid-bounce, and started on my first lap around the parameter of Cheeseman Park.

The mix got off to a strong start: my forearms tingled with the opening keys of Moby's Feeling So Real. By the time the song reached it's soulful refrain, my lungs had stretched to their full capacity.

There was only one other person in the whole park. When I'm out that early, the only other people on the path are the real health junkies (or occasionally just "junkies", though that's pretty rare) the guys whose level of fitness puts mine to shame. But today was different. I'm different. This guy, all sausaged into his spandex, he flinched when he heard me come up on him from behind. By the time he realized I was fellow runner, I'd already overtaken him in a full sprint.

I had only planned on maybe three laps; but that was before opening snarl of Stone Roses Begging You started ringing in my head. I matched the pace of the thrusting drumbeat. Nice one, Spliff.