Writetober 2019

October 25-Tasty

"Ay, Antonio! Got my usual?" Everett called, skidding to a stop outside his favorite bodega. He was on patrol tonight, and no Guinness patrol was complete without snacks, lots of snacks.

Antonio worked most evenings at this bodega, closing up for his mother who owned the place. The Mexican American smiled when he saw one of his most loyal customers. "Buenas noches, Guinness. Half dozen tamales ready to go. Mama even saved a sopapilla for you."

"Aw, she shouldn't have," Everett said while pulling some cash from a pocket in his uniform. Not a good idea to take his wallet on patrol and risk someone seeing his id. "How's she doing?"

Antonio shook his head while making change. "Stubborn as ever. You take care out there alright? Rumors going around some new super's been lurking on the north side."

Everett frowned at the news. He worked on the north side. How'd he missed something like that? "Thanks for the heads up, Antonio."

As he sped around the city looking for signs of trouble, he ate his tamales—Antonio's mom really did make the best Mexican food in the city—and thought about how to investigate this new guy. Memories of his back injury were fresh enough to keep him cautious and unwilling to pick a fight with an unknown super if it could be avoided.

After a few more hours of patrolling with little activity he decided to hit up an old haunt of his on the north side. The place made pretty great burgers and pie too. On the outskirts of town and the warehouse district was a 24 hours diner and gas station that was a particular favorite of truckers. Norma and Eustace had run the joint for decades, long before the city had expanded to replace the corn fields that had once surrounded them. They were good people, and they made even better food.

Everett tried not to stop by there in costume very frequently though. Most of the regular patrons were coworkers and acquaintances from his day job. He strolled in now without looking to either side and took a seat at the front counter. Most of the truckers had retired for the night or migrated over to Johnnie's Bar next door by this hour, but he could feel the stares of the few that remained.

One of Norma's kids was running the front tonight. "Hey, Guinness. Long time no see. What brings you here?"

"I was craving one of your famous burgers!" And some information. Everett settled in to listen for any important gossip. If he'd had no luck by the time he'd eaten he decided to ask the kid if he'd heard anything about this mysterious super.

"That'll be right up," The kid said while setting a fresh, steaming cup of coffee in front of Everett. Then he headed to the back to tell the cook who had stopped by. That was the other reason his visits were sporadic. The people here always gave him a free coffee and upgraded his burger to a double without charging him. He hated feeling like he was taking advantage of someone, and he didn't want to put them out too much.

Everett was halfway through his coffee when the door chimed to announce another set of customers walking in. "Ah jeez. What's a freak doing here?" An obnoxiously familiar voice asked.

Everett rolled his eyes. He knew that one from work. I knew that guy was a prick, but I didn't have him pegged as a power-phobe. He opted to ignore the guy. His secret identity was worth more than the satisfaction of a fight.

Unfortunately, the other guy felt he had to prove a point. "Hey, freakshow, I'm talking to you!"

Really? Does this guy have nothing more original to say? Everett took a long drink from his coffee. If the guy started a fight, he wanted to end it quickly, and preferably without the guy seeing his face. "The name's Guinness, jackass," He called back without turning around.

Maybe not his smartest move. Now there were footsteps stomping up behind him. Everett sighed and set his mug down, tensing for a dodge.

"Hey!" Norma's boy shouted, coming back up from the kitchen with a loaded plate. "You touch him, and I'll throw you out of here. Got that?" He had the muscle to back up his words too. He was bigger than half the football players in the state.

"But he's—"

"He's the super who ran my old man to the hospital when he had his heart attack. Guinness is the reason he's still alive. You got a problem with that, take it somewhere else."

The footsteps stomped away, and I turned my attention to the tastiest burger this side of the city. My focus snapped back to the retreating man when I heard him mutter, "Damned supers. First one freezes my transmission while chasing  some crook; now I can't even eat in peace..."

Freezing powers, huh? It wasn't much, but it was a lead. He'd worked with less.