Just Another Job (17 page)

Johnykin didn't respond. Chris kept the
radio on for another minute just in case and then started up his
route around the park. What the hell was that about? Chris thought
on it but nothing came together. The sights and sounds of the
ballpark didn’t help his concentration either. I hope there’s no
ceremony for us or whatever, he thought. Oh no, Chris’s mind
continued, they better not have us go up to bat. Chris’s heart
thumped in his chest at all the embarrassing scenarios Erik might
have cooked up for them. The anxiety only worsened when the crowds
made their way in.

Chris didn't know how well Frank and
Johnykin were being perceived by the public, but the majority of
glances he caught involved snickering from teenagers and hushed
wows from little kids. There were cougar eyes and appreciative
parental nods too. Unfortunately, Chris's self-conscious side
blinded him to these more encouraging sights. Trapped inside his
imagination, Chris pictured men crawling on their knees to catch
sight of Johnykin and Frank giving high-fives and winks to a crowd
waiting to cheer him on. Chris was just a nobody in a skintight
uniform who shouldn't be there.

His head drooped lower and his walking
increased when a whistle echoed against the concrete floor and
ceiling. Everyone turned to look and Chris couldn’t help doing so
also. Johnykin took long strides towards Chris that parted the
crowd. Her confidence and surprisingly big smile automatically
lifted Chris out of his funk.

Johnykin made it within inches of Chris with
people still staring in anticipation. A loud whistle followed by a
sexy woman in skin tight clothes approaching a man in matching
attire had to end in some exhilarating fashion. Chris felt the
pressure of their meeting and so did Johnykin, but she was the one
that knew how to handle it. Johnykin grabbed the back of Chris's
hair with both hands and pulled his face down to hers. Everyone
knew in their guts what was coming next, a sensual kiss with the
possibility of some public groping. Again, Johnykin was in control
and at the last instant turned Chris's head to the side and planted
a loud smacking kiss on his cheek.

The disappointed crowd groaned before a few
scattered claps resounded and died just as quickly. With the world
turning back to a less dramatic pace, Johnykin hooked her arm
around Chris's and led him through the ever thickening masses of
baseball fans.

“I thought we were supposed to be on our
own?” asked Chris.

“To hell with that. I want to watch some
Giants kick ass with a friend. So quit complaining.”

The Giants didn't kick ass, but Johnykin and
Chris had no less fun. Free hot dogs and not a trace of problems
persisted throughout the afternoon. They talked, roamed around the
ballpark, yelled at the umpires, and stopped for a few pictures
along the way. The whole time was positive and made it impossible
for Chris to bring up the conversation he overheard. He hadn't
forgotten it, but the change in Johnykin was too overwhelming. If
he popped that balloon of joy the explosion, he feared, would tear
his head off.

“Do you like barbecues —“ began Chris before
Johnykin cut him off with her index finger. Then she pressed the
radio in her ear and looked at Chris to follow suit.

She spoke directly at Chris, “I'm at the
Coca-Cola Fan Lot. The big glove and bottle place. Meet me
here.” 

A bomb was lit and Chris didn't see he was
the man left with the matches.

Frank's voice shouted over the radio, “On my
way. Five minutes max.”

Johnykin kept her eyes on Chris, waiting for
him to do something. He didn't know what she wanted.

Frank was on the radio again. “Where's
Chris?”

Chris realized. “I'm here. I'm already
here.”

Johnykin shook her head slightly and turned
away from Chris to look out for Frank. Most of the fans left in the
seventh with the Giants down five runs. It would be easy to spot
him, but Chris was looking in the same direction as Johnykin when
Frank came up behind him. Frank slapped his hand down on Chris's
shoulder.

“What's up? You were fucking fast to get
here.”

“Yeah, I —“

“I ran into Chris a little earlier and we
just stuck together for the last part of the game to make things
easier. Why did you want to sit with me too?” said Johnykin.

Chris looked away.

Frank didn't believe them. He knew when
Chris was lying, but fighting back a side of him he let it go.
Chris was surprised to see Frank not confront him. This job did
mean a lot to Frank, thought Chris.

“Alright, let's go,” said Frank.

Their ride waited patiently outside the
security gates. Nothing was said as they piled in. Frank took his
phone out as he sat down to show Chris how much he did not want to
chat. Chris pulled out his own phone, but before he could even
unlock the home screen Frank blurted out.

“Shit.”

“What?” asked Johnykin, while whipping her
head around to find more meaning behind the single word.

Frank held up his phone. Johnykin lowered
her eyebrows at the screen, read quickly, and turned back around
with only one comment, “That's terrible.”

Chris looked up to the front windshield to
catch her reflection. He was ready to say something consoling,
thinking she was hurt by whatever was on Frank's phone. Instead her
face was stone angry. Chris looked back to Frank who was scrolling
on his phone again. Forgetting Frank's icy demeanor towards him,
Chris grabbed the phone to see what it was all about.

Frank was surprised by the decisive act and
held back a laugh before reaching for his phone.

Chris read the headline out loud, “Cubs Win
but Supers Save Game,” just as Frank regained control of his
phone.

“It was a terrorist attack,” said Frank. “Or
rather an attempted one. Grant and Alan took them out before the
bombs could go off.”

“What the hell?” said Chris, to himself more
than anyone.

“Look it up on your own phone,” said
Frank.

Chris’s mind jumped back to his
eavesdropping from earlier, but thought better of saying anything
out loud after taking another look at the boiling fury in the front
seat that was Johnykin. He had to get it out, though.

Chris typed into his phone, “I heard Erik
and Johnykin over the radio. They were planning something.” He sent
it to Frank.

Frank's phone buzzed in reply. He saw
Chris's name and immediately looked over, but Chris was trying to
play it cool. Chris's eyes were out the window; his thumb tapped up
and down on his phone's screen waiting for the private conversation
to continue.

Frank typed the fewest words he could.
“Planning what?”

Chris's phone rattled in his hand even after
trying to muffle it against his thigh. “Don't know. She called it
off. He sounded pissed. Now she's pissed cause of what happened in
Chicago. You know something?”

Frank didn't try to cover up his phone's
vibration and ended their dialogue with his next message, “Don't
know anything. You're paranoid and our texting is FUCKING
OBVIOUS.”

Chris glanced at his screen casually when
his phone received the text. Their texting probably was obvious and
he dropped the idea of pushing Frank for more information.

The traffic leaving the park made the
normally short trip to the labs agonizingly long. No one talked
again, vocally or electronically, and Chris had worn out his usual
stomping grounds for internet chatter. The lack of input made
Chris's head droop several times, but he forced himself to stay
slightly awake amidst the present company and circumstance.

At the labs, the SUV pulled up to the
entrance and the three hopped out. It was getting close to five.
Chris wondered if he could duck out early and was answered rather
promptly.

Erik stepped through the main doors and into
the direct path of the moody trio. His outstretched arms and
beaming grin were jarring to behold. Chris sped up to try to make
it past the Walmart greeting, but only put himself in a position to
take the most of Erik's exuberance.

“Chris, my boy wonder,” said Erik, while
grabbing Chris's shoulder to make any escape impossible.

“Great game you missed,” said Frank, who
stopped to talk out of a sense of duty to the boss.

“I heard, I heard,” said Erik. “I'm so glad
everything went without a hitch. A little downtime can be so
helpful in building camaraderie.”

Johnykin took the longest to reach Erik's
roadblock. When she finally did step up her truculent pose screamed
hostility. Erik picked up the pace of his planned speech but
relished the emotions on display.

“Sad, terrible news came in while you three
were enjoying yourselves, unfortunately. In Chicago —“

“We heard,” said Johnykin.

“I bet,” said Erik and smiled. “This really
shined a spotlight on our – you're – potential for doing good in
the world. I think this little team can be just as special and
recognized as any other Supers out there. So what the heck. Get
cleaned up and take the rest of the day off. Big things lie ahead.
I can feel it.”

Erik clapped his hands together at the end
to signal his release on them.

Chapter
Fourteen

Just like every news story surrounding the Supers,
the coverage was epic in its scope. Special news casts in the
middle of sitcom reruns showed exclusive video caught by amateurs
with cellphones. Interviews with baseball players about how they
felt being protected doing what they love on ESPN. Bored teens
shared their reactions on YouTube as they watched the daring clips
of the almost tragedy on YouTube. Mothers and other Facebook
addicts created memes of support for these American heroes. The
Supers were bigger and more loved than ever.

Even at home with every media blaring device
put away, Chris dealt with the news in an old fashioned manner.

“Hey Dad, did you hear —“ said Louise,
before her father put his hand up to stop her.

“Yes, honey. I heard,” said Chris.

“Crazy right? Mom's going to be pissed.”

“Why is she going to be pissed?”

“Are you sure you heard?” Louise paused, not
wanting to be cut off again. “People are putting up petitions
online and stuff about sending the Supers overseas. They've only
found Supers here in America and think we should be helping out
around the world more.”

Chris wanted to respond. He knew he was
working with a frail connection with his daughter. She wanted her
voice to mean something to him. “Uh, wow. Mom is going to be
pissed. What do you think?”

Again Louise waited. This time partially to
think about an answer but still to check if this was going to be a
real conversation or not. “It's asking for trouble. Just because
they can jump and are strong and whatever doesn't mean they all
want to be soldiers. I know you fought that guy in the mall, but
you're not really a fighter. Are you, Dad?”

“Uh, no. I don't want to fight, but
sometimes I think it might be necessary.”

“When do you know it might be necessary? You
might just be making more problems than there were before. Gerry
acts all proud of you, but just like Mom we don't want you out
there fighting. You're not even a Super.”

“Hey, I hold my own.”

“You don't need to.”

“It's a job. It takes care of us.”

“Maybe it's not the right one.”

“How would you know what the right one is?!”
Chris's words weren't loud enough to echo through the house, but
they were clear enough to end any more discussion with his
daughter. He tried anyways, “I’m sorry. I just…”

Before the tears could leave her eyes she
turned and ran to her room. Chris was glad the questioning had
stopped but knew he needed to fix the damage before it got worse.
He moved slowly down the hallway with his eyes tracking the floor
and his brain running through apologies. At Louise's door, he
looked up ready to knock but caught Sadie out of the corner of his
eye.

She took her time also walking over and then
shook her head 'no' in the direction of Louise's door. Continuing
her unnaturally slow movements, Sadie grabbed Chris's hand and led
him back to their bedroom. She sat him on the corner of the bed and
closed the door.

It was her turn to question and possibly
yell. Chris looked in her eyes; definitely yell. Her lips opened
slowly. He clenched the bed sheet in anticipation.

“What…” It wasn’t loud and it stopped right
there. Chris was confused. Then she cried and slumped into his lap.
He cradled her, believing it was the right thing to do even with an
adult that never wanted to be treated like a baby in all her
life.

Thinking on it, Chris gently pulled her up
and pressed his forehead into hers to end the uncharacteristic
moment. Sadie opened her eyes to look at him and closed them again
as more tears came. Chris put her chin on his shoulder in order to
pull her in for another embrace, but she dug her brow into his
chest instead and pushed away.

Sadie wiped her cheeks and then clenched her
fists around his shirt in a posture primed to pummel him. One hand
came down hard on his chest and then the other, yet softly.

Chris couldn't keep going along. “I'm
sorry.”

“For what?” Sadie stared red-eyed.

“For taking this job. For leaving you and
the kids here.” A part of him wanted to add some bite to the end,
but clearer thoughts stifled it down.

“That's not something to be sorry about. You
don't have anything to be sorry for.”

“Yes, I am. I shouldn't have ever went along
with this. It's ridiculous to play around like a kid fighting bad
guys.”

“What? Fuck! Are you —What is going on with
you? Is that what you think you're doing? What are we talking about
here?”

“My job. Leaving to another country. I
thought we were...”

“Yes, but how can you say that now.
Especially when we both know you're still going to go. You can't
think like that.”