Super?

Nothing Left To Say Now

       My therapist had another question he loved to ask me. He would say, what are you most afraid of?
       Anyway, not to sound bigoted, but I'm not afraid of much. Spiders never bothered me. Obviously snakes don't. I don't mind the dark. Clowns are just stupid. I'm too good at monologuing to be afraid of public speaking. But I guess I do have one fear. And that would have to be a fear of losing control. That sounds ridiculous coming from alcoholic, I know. Like I don't frequently drink myself into oblivion. But I'm still in control then because I'm choosing to have that next beer. I'm making my own decisions, however messed up they may be.
       So I should feel good right now as I drive through the city to the police station with a grateful six year-old in tow, because I took matters into my own hands and I'm saving him. But I can't help but feel like I'm playing right into someone's hand. Maybe it's just my paranoia or my inability to be happy for myself kicking in, but the feeling is still there. I'm cloaking Dominic in the backseat, but I still check out the empty streets around us.
      "I don't think you're really a villain," Dominic murmurs, "not really." When I give him an incredulous look through the rearview, he blushes. "If you were a bad guy, you wouldn't be saving me right now." As if I need another reminder, kid.
       "Yeah, well. Today's just your lucky day, because this villain is feeling generous," I mumble back, and I see Dominic give me a crooked, disbelieving smile.
       "Why do you want to be evil so bad?" He crosses his thin arms over his dingy red raglan shirt. "I thought everybody wanted to be a superhero. Only messed up people want to be super-villains," he says, wrinkling his nose. "No offense," he then adds quickly.
       "None taken," I smirk. "And I am messed up. I may be saving you, but I'm nobody's role model," I raise an eyebrow at him and he shakes his head.
       "I think you could be good," he says, with a solemn look on his face. Crazy. How is he only six years old?
       "Mm. Are you hungry, kid?" I ask as I pull into a QuikStop to get some gas. "You want a sandwich or something?"
       "I'm always hungry!" He grins and hops out of the car. I put a hand up to stop him.
       "Nuh-uh. I can't risk somebody seeing you. I'll get the sandwich for you, ok? You just sit tight and wait in the car," I tell him warningly. His head slumps.
       "I've been cooped up for forever though!" His little face is screwed up in disappointment. "Please, can I just come with you? I'll be super quiet." I roll my eyes and sigh.
       "Fine. But I'm serious. You have to stick super close to me, or I won't be able to cloak you," I grumble as I finish filling up the gas. He beams and throws his fist into the air. My lips twitch into a ghost of a smile, before I remember what a predicament I'm in at the moment.
       Dominic trails me as we walk inside, the door jingling obnoxiously. I keep my head down, letting my hair hide my face, and head straight for the little deli counter they have toward the back.
       "I really gotta pee," he whispers as we're out of earshot from the cashier. Luckily this place is empty. I grimace and press the tips of my fingers to my forehead.
       "I'll uncloak you. But just for a moment, you hear me? And go fast. Don't let anybody see your face," I quickly look around to make sure nobody's watching and then I drop Dominic's illusion. He sprints over to the restrooms and I busy myself with grabbing a Saran-wrapped turkey and cheese sandwich.
       A man with a black hat comes up beside me to refill his plastic soda cup. He gives me half-lidded once-over, and I force myself not to cringe. Instead I grab Dominic his own plastic cup and fill it with lemonade, ignoring the man. I can feel his eyes burning into my back. As I finish placing a brightly-colored on the cup, his hand grabs my wrist.
       I spook and drop the lemonade, but by some miracle the lid stays on and it just rolls across the floor. I angrily wrench my wrist from the man's grip and pick the lemonade off the floor, setting it on the bacteria-ridden countertop.
       "What the hell?" I snarl at the man, setting down the sandwich also as he just stands there, looking like he's on drugs or something.
       "You here alone?" His expression is lazy and unconcerned. My skin prickles in disgust. What a creep.
       "Yup," I growl, and cross my arms over my chest, which he's very obviously ogling. His lips pull up into a cat-like grin.
      "You up for a fun time?" he whispers, his tongue running across his teeth. A shiver of revulsion runs up the back of my neck.
      "Hell no," I spit at him and grab Dominic's lunch. The man shifts so that he's blocking my path to the cash register. No, not here. I give the cashier a desperate look, but he's buried in the glowing screen of his phone.
       "That ain't a suggestion," the man purrs. Seriously. He purrs.
       "If you're planning on trying to rape me, I'm sorry to say it's not going to happen," I tell him bluntly. This day is just going great. Seriously. I have the like best luck ever.
       "Wanna bet?" His eyes narrow. Are you kidding me right now? He moves forward to grab me again, but I punch his face instead, so hard that I swear I hear something crack.  He screams out a long list of expletives, all derogatory and directed at me. I respond by kicking him right where it'll hurt the most. The cashier stands up, obviously paying attention now. I see his hand move to the phone behind him.
       "You're disgusting," I tell him as he drops to the floor, whimpering in pain. "I should snap your neck right here and now." Just as I say this, I see Dominic emerge from the restroom. His eyes widen when he sees the man curled up on the ground beside me.
       "I got you a sandwich and some lemonade," I tell Dominic, as if nothing happened. "You cool with that?" He nods slowly, looking dazed. I grab Dominic's hand and lead him over to the cashier. Here I deposit a twenty on the counter. The cashier stammers.
       "Keep the change," I smile pleasantly at the acne-faced teenager, and I tug Dominic along.
       "Wait! That kid didn't come in with you-" I can't hear what else he says because the door closes behind us.
      "To the car," I usher Dominic beside me and he stumbles over to the Camry. As soon as we're both in the car and I've handed him his sandwich and lemonade, he sputters with questions.
       "What did you do to that guy? Did he try to hurt you? Did he see me? Nobody saw me. Did the cashier call the cops? Are we in trouble?"
       "Just eat your food, kid. That's all you need to worry about," I tell him, but squeal right out of that QuikStop all the same. He gives me a suspicious look but crams the sandwich into his mouth anyway.
       "Thank you," he says with his mouth full. I nod distractedly, thinking of the man back in the gas station. If I had been anyone else... Ugh. I hope that cashier called the cops on him. I feel an affinity for some criminals, but not rapists and abusers and murderers.
       "Oh, crap!" I curse. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere in my fleeing of the gas station, because I have no idea where I am. "Kid, do you know how to get to the police station from here?" He shakes his head and takes a long sip from his lemonade. I bang my head against the steering wheel.
      "Why don't you just use the GPS on your dash?" he suggests rationally. I hunch my shoulders. Well. Duh. I bought that thing for a reason.
       "Someday you'll rule the world, kid," I tell him with a half-smile as I punch in Birchwood PD's address on the device.
       "I know," he replies simply. We drive along in silence, and I glance occasionally at the GPS as it gives me directions.
       "Turn left," the mechanical voice orders me. I frown at the device and then at the road. A left? But that would take us further out of the city, not closer.
       "Is this thing broken?" I grump, tapping the plastic screen in frustration.
       "Sometimes it reroutes you if there's construction or busy traffic somewhere," Dominic pipes up from the backseat. He's already finished his sandwich and he's fervently nursing his lemonade.
       "Of course," I mutter, feeling antsy. I just want to get Dominic to the police. That's all I want, universe. "Great." My stomach clenches with anxiety as we reach the rural part of the city, where the houses are further apart, divided by fields, and the only strip mall is miles away. I feel more comfortable surrounded by buildings. I grew up in the city. I trust what's man-made. Nature not so much.
       "Seriously, this is the worst reroute ever." I sigh and step harder on the gas pedal, despite the fact that the speed limit is still only 45. It'd be a blessing if the police pulled me over. At least then Dominic could finally get home.
       Wow, am I sounding like some sappy hero. This sucks. I've never felt more out of place. Here's a villain saving a little boy and buying him lunch and willing to get arrested for him just to bring him home. Why do I feel so protective of Dominic? I have no idea. Honestly. I don't even like children. But my heart won't listen to my brain.
       "There's people following us," Dominic frowns. My heart skips as I look behind me as see two boxy, nondescript black cars behind us.
       "It's cool. Everything's fine. They're probably just some idiots who like to pretend to be FBI," I say aloud, whether to reassure Dominic or myself I'm not exactly sure. It's right here that my GPS battery dies with a bloop. I curse loudly and Dominic flinches.
       "Are we in trouble?" His lower lips trembles and he twists around to look fearfully behind us, where the two cars are still tailing us.
       "We're fine," I say again. Where the hell am I? What am I doing? How did they find me? "I want you to promise me something, Dominic," I force my gaze away from the cars behind us and tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
       "What?" His face is pale.
       "No matter what happens, I want you to find your way home, ok? Can you do that for me?" I meet his gaze. He frowns immediately.
       "But what about you?"
       "Don't worry about me," I tell him calmly. "Ok? I want you to promise me you'll get home. No matter what." He nods, and a single tear runs down his freckled cheek. I clench my jaw and speed up. We're approaching the suburban part of the city again, and I wind my way through the streets in hopes of losing our tail. The sun blazes overhead, making it hard to see.
       "We lost them!" Dominic cheers. That's when I see the black car racing through the intersection ahead of us. I don't even have time to brake. My world turns upside down. Dominic screams as we crash violently into the car, and in a whirl of pain and blood and metal and glass and fire I lose my grip on reality.