Hero Stuff: Teasers, Shorts, and Random Stuff

Mother's Day Extravaganza Entry

I opened the door to Mom's bedroom and there she was, on the windowsill, her cape swinging in the wind. With a 'whoosh' she took off.

Normally, watching her take flight soothed me. She'd leave, kick ass, and return at six, bright-eyed as she detailed her day's work. While PTA mothers fought to ban blue crayons because kids used them to draw Cobalt Caine, Mom actually pummeled the dude. How awesome was that?

Yet, for the first time as I stared at her empty window, I almost didn't want her to be a superhero. My chest tightened at the thought of my own selfishness and I crumpled the Coffee Shop Heroes flyer in my fingers.

I wanted her to be at my first gig. Some girls would die of mortification at the thought of their mothers listening to their singing, but not me. Even with Dad's "You wanna be a singer?" expression when I mentioned Coffee Shop Heroes, Mom believed in me.

"You've got what it takes," she'd say, ruffling my purple-streaked hair, "if I can be a superhero, then you can be a rockstar."

Her pushing, her loving encouragement as she poured me a shot of (sadly non-alcoholic) Irish coffee after rehearsals kept me running. And I wanted her to hear me; I wanted to show her I was worth her confidence.

I turned from her bedroom, smoothing the flyer against my jeans as I thumped down the stairs and out the door.

Dad left early for his shift at the shop again. He worked too long, and it hurt to think about his baggy eyes and bone-thin fingers. Even with the Ling boys and me to help, he didn't see much time off.

I navigated the crowded city streets, peeling into the shop's backroom through an alleyway. If Mom weren't the city's protector, alleys would be off limits. I found my way through the storeroom, greeted by the Lings.

Once upon a time, the Ling Twins had names that didn't reflect Sci-Fi characters, but those days had long disappeared. Hans stood in the shadows, his hair flopped in his eyes. He tightened the strings of his violin's bow.

Hans never spoke, and when I asked him why after we first met, he wrote his one-word response on a napkin. 'Bones.'

"Ester! Where's Alpha Woman? Have you practiced? We have to be good! Ahh! I'm so nervous! What if they don't like us? What if they do? Then what? Do we find an agent?"

Bones flung his arms around me, practically squeezing me to death. I sputtered, and Hans silently laughed.

"Uh, look, Alpha Woman isn't coming," I said, prying him off me. I turned my head to avoid his disappointed expression. Everyone knew who my mother really was, but we all pretended we didn't and I just happened to be friends with her.

"Oh," he said, crossing in front of me. With his leather jacket and blue electric guitar, he was pretty cute. Honestly, Hans and Bones were two equally adorable guys, and were they not so weird and I were not so busy, I'd probably crush on at least one of them.

Hans raised his head, tapping his watchless wrist. He cuddled his chin against his instrument, and I couldn't help grinning.

"Ready?" I asked.

Hans nodded and Bones rushed out a few lines about how we shouldn't be nervous. I snatched my cordless microphone from behind a flour bag and we filed into the shop.

The scents of baking bear claw and ground coffee hit me upon entrance, ones I'd become so familiar with I wanted to plop on the ground and shout, "I'm home!" I resisted the urge because securing the gig at the shop had been hard. Really hard.

"I don't think our customers would like your screaming." Dad had said as he wiped down a table.

I blushed, picking at my earrings. "Uh, it's called death growling."

"Don't backtalk me, young lady!"

Dad stood behind the counter, scowling at Bones' guitar as we passed. I wanted him to be proud too. My heart thumped against my ribs, knees like petroleum jelly as Hans and I took to the raised platform at the store's back. Bones plugged in his guitar to the borrowed equipment, strumming his instrument for a quick sound check.

I memorized the lyrics months ago, I wrote them, but with the customers' eyes on me I was sure I'd miss a line. Hans shot me an encouraging glance, petting his violin as he placed it over his shoulder.

I blew a strand of purple out of my face, forcing myself to smile at the audience. Bones breathed beside me, and I clicked the microphone on. "Hi," I said, heart thumping so fast I thought my chest would burst. "We're Coffee Shop Heroes, a metal band still in search of a drummer. So, uh, if any of you knows how to play a beat-"

Bells chimed, and there, in all his blazing, blue glory waltzed in Cobalt Caine. Heads turned, Bones snatched my arm and mouthed a vomit-load of words so fast I couldn't make them out, and Hans gave an audible squeak. As for how I reacted, well, I didn't. I just sort of stood there, staring at the grizzled, flaming dude. He shot me an annoyed glance, and I stuttered on. "You, should, uh, play with us. Cause that would be great."

The supervillain strolled to the counter, rolling his eyes as he purred the words, "Caramel macchiato."

"We don't serve supervillains here," Dad said, stiffening. For being 5'6, Dad was a bulky dude. He leaned his weight over the counter, and I realized Crap! I should've been phoning the police!

I scrambled for my phone, but then Hans started to play. He really took that 'show must go on' shit to his head. And when Hans played, so did Bones. It was like those two were mentally synced, and I was on a different wavelength. I bet if I plugged in I could hear the deet, deet, deet, of their thoughts.

So, you know, with the twins playing their souls out, I couldn't disappoint.

Before Hans, I never would've guessed 'heavy violin' was a thing, but the way he made his instrument scream, cry, and sing haunted me. I could almost hear his conscious bleeding into the music, and I devoured every note.

Bones played casually, his music seemed to have its own personality, as if he and his guitar were two different people. If anything, I liked his music more than I liked him. The chords hummed smooth and summery, and I could drown in them if I listened too hard.

As for my songs, well, I sang because I could.

3...2...1...the beat dropped, and I began. "Oh, why do you have to be so cruel? I just want to feel your love, like the kiss of the rain, I see the flashing lights when you open your arms...."

Bull. But it felt pretty when I wrote it.

"Look, mister, I don't want to hear your shit. Alpha Woman frequents this place." Cobalt Caine flipped something from his belt, pointing it at Dad. I almost stopped singing. "Are those caterwauling kids hers?"

Caterwauling? Excuse him? And I did take more from Mom than I did Dad, but...

My singing was freaking fabulous! I curtsied and chucked the microphone at the villain's face.

Before Dad could get out a word, the man glared and shot up the stage so fast he was only a blur. Bones punched me, raising his guitar as a weapon. Hans never stopped playing, only quickened his pace to match the mood.

I gave the guy a grin and spun out of his reach, singing all the while. Dad raised his voice, rushing to intercept the dude, but Cobalt was faster. CRACK! went his fist and THUMP! went Dad's unconscious body as it hit the floor. I frowned, my heart struggling in my chest.

I never stopped singing, just broke into a nervous rendition of 'Don't Stop Believing.' The dude snatched me by the neck, lifted me until I couldn't breathe. His blue flames were even scarier up close.

"Even with her mask, Alpha Woman looks just like you," he said, eyes blazing their usual blue. I would be lying if I said I hadn't peed myself a little bit.

"Just a small town girl," I hummed, "Living in a lonely world..."

If it hadn't been for the shattering glass and Mom's scream as she catapulted through the doors I didn't know what else I would've said. Cobalt dropped me, spinning to intercept his arch nemesis. Mom was quicker, as always.

CRACK! POW! BANG! She left the poor would-be killer running for his life, and when she plucked me off the ground, tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, honey, your singing was beautiful."