The Team Of Ten

Part Four

The dark warehouse was almost completely empty, almost. 

One workshop was lit by yellow lights. The yellow tinted the sliver with a warm glow, the different pieces of cars, blue prints, tools, grease stains, and gas cans all had a strange welcoming presence. The only sound was clinking metal, turning gears, and the grunts of a person trying to get that bolt to just stay.

Under the car, lifted up by complicated machines, was a scrawny looking boy with wild, curly, brown hair. He let out a cheer of triumph as he slid out from under the pick up. He stood up and wiped his hands on his black work pants, though his white shirt was the same color at this point.

With a fire in his eyes he rushed to his blue prints and jotted down a few things before sighing and looking at the pick up again. It was already late and he needed to get back, take a shower, and eat something. But the hours he got to spend here were always cherished. 

The boy lifted up a picture frame that sat on the work station. A lovely, curly haired, Latino woman smiled back up at him. Her arms thrown wide as if expecting a hug. The boy smiled as his fingers tapped on the wooden frame, a message he had know practically since birth.

With a swallow of the lump forming in his throat the boy set the photo down and started to pack up. The name carved into the side of the desk caught the light and showed that the desk was his. Leo was his name, the name carved into the desk. Leo adjusted his satchel before heading out. Well, heading up.

Leo climbed out onto the roof of the auto shop then jumped to the roof next to it, and kept doing that until he stood on the roof of his orphanage. 

Climbing in his, always unlocked, window he made sure he was quiet. With his quick footsteps he made quick work of hopping into the shower. He always loved this time of night, no younger kids running around, no nuns shamming him for his grease stained fingers, no noise expect his own breathing. 

Leo pulled on an old t-shirt, flannel pj pants, and dried his hair. With silent feet, he crept into the kitchen to grab some food. Leo ate a sandwich before going back to his room and laying down on his bed. Four other kids shared a room with him, all less than 12 and all more annoying than nails on a chalkboard. 

Leo laid there, his mind racing with blue prints and ways to make a simple machine better and more complex, his fingers twitched and he tried to fall asleep. But he couldn't, no matter if he gritted his teeth, if he pushed all the thoughts from his head, turned and pulled pillow over his head, he just couldn't sleep.

After an hour of trying he gave up on sleep that night. Instead he climbed up to sit on the roof. His legs dangled off the edge and his mind wandered over the city. It had been raining earlier but it was finally cleared up, the stars poking through the clouds.

The sound of sirens blared in the distance, probably another Villain. A newer Villain, a Fire User, had been reported working for Viki The Viking. The fear of Fire Users has gone up even more, even more reason for Leo to never register.

Leo listened to the sirens and fought the urge to scream that not everyone was evil just because they were born with powers. His palms started itching and burning, his breath quickened, his vision blurred. Leo stumbled back from the ledge, he panicked and waved his hands around.

Nothing good came from fire . . . Ever.

Leo calmed his breathing and ran his hands through his hair. Looking at his hands he could see the grease that still lingered under his nails. With a quick shake of his hands the burning disappeared.

No fire today.

The sirens kept going and Leo felt a pit open up in his stomach. He wished he could help, do something to fix this. But you couldn't just oil a wheel in society, check the engine to humanity, make sure the gears turned in the world.