Jackson Humes is Not a Superhero

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Shannon, Marv, and I were standing in one of the corners of the warehouse, trying to stay out of the way. Officer Richards had left to get everyone some food after he called the station and put out a warning for police to be on the lookout for three masked men, it wasn't much to go on but at least it was something. Mr. Saltzman was sitting on the couch softly rubbing Graham's head, the two of them looked a little dazed. Diego, who was still unconscious, was lying on the other couch. Officer Velasquez was sitting beside him, holding his hand and whispering softly.

"So what now?" Marv asked, turning his back on the somewhat depressing scene.

"I guess we wait for Diego to wake up and tell us what to do next," I said. After the excitement of going to the lab, coming back to the warehouse without having seen any action was a bit of a let down. I sensed I wasn't the only one who felt that way. The three of us were amped up.

"Guys," Shannon's brown eyes were bright and alert, "are you sure we shouldn't take the old man to the hospital. He seems pretty frail." Now that Shannon wasn't high it was impossible not to notice just how much he worried and fidgeted. He kept rocking up to the balls of his feet and all the way back to his heels. He performed this action over and over again to the point that I had to stop looking at him because I was starting to feel seasick.

"He's a tough old man," Marv assured him.

"If one of you bozos calls me old one more time," Mr. Saltzman warned from across the room, "I'm going to throw you over my knee and show you just how frail I am."

"He's fine," I said with a smirk. "He's been to war."

"Damn straight," Mr. Saltzman said.

"Okay," I placed my hand on Shannon's shoulder and pushed down firmly, "your rocking is starting to make me nervous."

"You'll get used to it," Marv grinned, "eventually."

Shannon forced himself to stop. It appeared to take a great deal of effort on his part. "Hey, I can't help it if I'm an anxious person."

"Aren't there pills that can help you with that sort of thing?" I asked.

Marv's grin turned into a wide smile. He was really enjoying himself. I had the distinct feeling I was touching on a well-worn subject between the two of them.

"My moms don't believe in pills. They think all they do in the long run is make people sicker and cause them to become dependent on them," Shannon admitted. "They're kinda into alternative health stuff, you know, like holistic medicine."

"So what do you take when you want to calm down?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He pulled his pipe out of his pocket and held it up. "All natural one-hundred percent homegrown weed."

"Hold up. "Your moms supply you that stuff?"

"Yeah," Shannon said proudly, stuffing the pipe back into his pocket, "they're pretty cool like that."

"I am seriously not hearing this conversation right now," Officer Velasquez said in a singsong voice.

"My mom's a florist," Shannon informed her, "she has a license." He began rocking back and forth again.

"Maybe you should smoke a little," I whispered, "just enough to calm you down."

"I would," Shannon whispered back, "but I left my stash at home."

"I can still hear you, you know?" Officer Velasquez stood up and stretched her limbs before going over to one of the computer terminals. It seemed like the perfect time to tell her about Wendy.