8. Things Look Up

Brute Force, for the second straight night, wandered the streets unsure of his next action. He rode his bike aimlessly for hours. Deciding to be done beating himself up he started slowly winding his way to a rough part of town. Maybe he wasn’t ready to deal with super villains, but he should certainly be able to deal with common crooks.

A couple minutes later he turned a corner and found a man with a ski mask running out of a liquor store. Brute Force caught up to him easily on his bike and picked him up by his belt. He handled the man easily with his super strength and tossed the criminal over his shoulder while he stopped and parked the bike. The robber pounded on Brute Force’s back and flailed his legs to no avail.

The store clerk came running out as Brute Force got off of the bike. “Give me my money back,” he yelled holding a broom as a weapon.

Brute Force sighed, more from the lack of understanding of the storekeeper than the small nuisance of the struggling thief. “I wouldn’t have stopped if I was his getaway,” he said, extending the small bag of money in one hand and turning so the thief’s flailing limbs would not hit the already angry shopkeeper.

The man stared at the money as if confused and finally took it. “Thanks,” he mumbled and slowly turned back to the store counting the money.

“He wasn’t very appreciative,” said the thief when the shopkeeper was safely out of earshot.

Brute Force was baffled, “You’re one to judge.” He moved the criminal to the nearest street lamp. Using one of the pairs of handcuffs he had acquired he locked him to the post with his hands behind his back around it. “Don’t worry, the police will be here for you soon,” he said getting back onto his bike.

“What if that crazy guy comes back out with his broom before then?”

“Maybe,” said Brute Force looking back as he put his helmet on, “you should have thought about the consequences before you started committing crimes.” Satisfied with having accomplished at least something right Brute force started heading home. This job was turning out to be not so tough. It seemed like he just needed to figure out which league he was in before he started to play ball.

As he pulled his bike into his garage at his apartments he realized the only problem was he found out he was supposed to be playing in the minors after he got into a major league mess.

7. The Specter

Pronto sped toward the city limits, still carrying his new acquaintance. The stranger didn’t say anything during the short trip, not wanting to distract Pronto while traveling at such great speeds. After they were safely away from even the outskirts of town, Pronto stopped. “Thank you,” said the stranger, “I really didn’t want to have him chase me through buildings. It would have been quite difficult to elude him.” He straightened his clothes and reached out his hand, “I am the Specter.”

“I don’t care who you are,” said Pronto. “I just want my share.” He too reached out, but did not take the Specter’s hand. Instead he reached for one of the bags of money, but the Specter once again went intangible.

“But think of how great a team we could be.”

“I work alone,” said Pronto.

“Fine,” said the Specter. “But if you change your mind you can find me here.” He produced a card and gave it to Pronto with one of the money bags. “Just ask for Doug. And I wouldn’t give this information to the cops; I can explain your little charade to them after all.”

Pronto glared at him for a moment, then disappeared without a word. Doug the Specter was now left to wander back home like Elliot had been the night before.

6. Stake-Out

Elliot went home and forced himself to lie down for a while. After being up for nearly forty hours he was exhausted. He allowed himself two hours and was thankful that he actually fell asleep. When he awoke it was ten o’clock, time to don his costume and prove himself innocent.

He wore a black, sleeveless wushu uniform, and a black and yellow mask. He trained in kung fu after he regained control of his legs and decided on his costume as homage to that tradition. It was also practical in use and cost, as well as easy to get a hold of. He had always been confused by super heroes who had extravagant spandex costumes. Who had that kind of budget and that much faith in a spandex tailor?

After eating a quick meal and pounding an energy drink, he headed for the same bank in which he fought with Pronto the night before. He decided that would be the best place for him to look. Pronto could easily blame him for it after all. The previous night he had decided to just wander on foot until he stumbled on to something. Tonight though, he had a goal so he took his black Yamaha R1 motorcycle.

He parked a block away and jumped to the roof of a small store across the street to set up his stake-out. He was grateful that it didn’t take long for something to happen. At first he didn’t think anything of it, just a man walking down the street close to midnight, but when he began approaching the bank’s wall and then suddenly disappeared he knew something was amiss. A moment later he saw a blur and the wall start to collapse. Pronto landed in front of the newly created hole. His smile quickly faded as he saw the first man exiting through his hole with armfuls of cash.

“Hey, that’s my money to steal,” yelled Pronto as the mystery man began running up the street.

“Take it from me then,” replied the newcomer. In a flash Pronto was on him, then stumbled to the ground as he passed through him. Brute Force stood stunned, not knowing how to react to this unfolding scene.

“You must realize that you’ll never be able to out run me, or get away from me,” said Pronto. “Why don’t you just give me a cut and we’ll call it even.”

“What kinda cut?” asked the stranger.

“Sixty for me, forty for you.”

“Why would you get the larger share? I did all the work. Seventy – thirty, me.”

“Because I can lead the police right to you.”

“How about zero – zero?” said Brute Force as he jumped from his hiding place on the roof. He was able to graze Pronto with a kick that sent him stumbling to the wall, but he too passed through the stranger. He turned to see the stranger running up to Pronto.

“Fifty – fifty if you get us outta here without him on our tale,” he said as he helped Pronto up.

Brute Force quickly attacked with another jump kick. He landed with his leg in the wall as they disappeared in a blur. He could still hear Pronto’s last word hanging in the air, “Deal.”

5. Problem Solving at Work

Wendy gave Elliot a change of clothes so he would be less conspicuous, and drove him back to his apartment. It was now almost 8:30 but he still had plenty of time before work. He decided to get an hour of sleep, but instead only stared at the blank walls of his small room thinking about how he could possibly get himself out of the horrible mess he had gotten himself into.

After his designated hour he got up and showered. He didn’t have to be at work until eleven but it always took time to do his makeup. He hated wearing the stuff, and wore long sleeves and frequently turtle necks to keep from having to apply too much, but there were always way too many questions when he wore masks. He knew. He tried many different things to try and disguise his horrible skin blemishes. He was grateful that his skin had regained some color since the experiments nearly ten years ago; the layer of makeup was much thinner now. But even then he preferred the makeup to being paralyzed.

He was also grateful that his work seldom forced him come into contact with people. It was in fact one of the reasons he became a writer. Today, however, the director of his next play wanted him there to help with the casting. While the process did bore him, and sometimes drove him nuts, he appreciated the chance to have some say even after the play was sold.

He finished getting ready and drove across town to the auditions. As expected the auditions were not only boring but also painful. The first person up for the male lead started with Shakespeare’s famous soliloquy. Before the third word Elliot spoke up, “Excuse me. Can you tell me which scene starts with ‘To be’?”

“No, but…” he began, his voice wavering. After a brief pause he became more firm, “Didn’t the casting call say Shakespeare was a plus?”

“Of course it did,” said the director, a middle aged man named Craig. “But does the name of the play look like Hamlet to you?”

“Well no but…”

“Then maybe,” Elliot interrupted, “the Shakespeare reference doesn’t mean we want to hear Shakespeare but rather want someone who is familiar with the complexities and subtleties found it his work and use that in the interpretations of the characters in this play. If you have ever been to another audition maybe you would have know that.”

Craig seemed satisfied with Elliot’s explanation and simply called out, “Next.”

The next several hours didn’t go much better, but when Elliot left at six o’ clock they had managed to find a good selection of actors for the three main parts. He was particularly pleased with the two women that were in the running for the female lead. The part required her to be beautiful, and he was worried because it was hard to find an attractive woman who could actually act.

He was also pleased that during the monotony of the auditions and the awful monotone blabbering of the so-called actors, he was able to spend many hours pondering his current situation. He decided that his best course was to try and find this Pronto, track him, collect evidence and take it all to the authorities, hopefully with Pronto as well. Elliot was now convinced that he could not persuade the officers of the truth without any evidence, and if he was locked up who would find that evidence. No, Pronto’s charade could last a long time if Elliot wasn’t there to catch him. After all, this was a big town, and most of the other heroes didn’t come within miles of his turf.

Elliot was decided. This was a job for Brute Force.

4. Fixing Force's Failure

Elliot Woodsworth wandered aimlessly for hours. He was furious with himself for what happened at the bank, there’s no way they’d believe he was the hero now. As he was waiting for the police to discuss their findings with each other he had been pulled through the window. Pronto dragged him three blocks before he could open his mouth in warning to the officers. He struggled to get free, but Pronto continually changed his grip while moving them at what Elliot thought must have been over 100 miles an hour. The two wrestled in the air for a couple of minutes, but as they approached the coastline Pronto hurled Brute Force out to sea.

He swam over a mile back to shore and ran several more miles back to the bank to find it deserted. He was sure Pronto had shown up and told the police some outlandish lie and they of course believed him because he would ‘help’ look for Elliot after he disappeared. He sulked as he wandered, and to his surprise he found the he had wandered to the house of his cousin. Wendy was the only one he had left of his family. It was nearly 7 a.m. now and he knew she would be up.

He stood on the sidewalk for several minutes not wanting to approach the house. He was ashamed. She was the only one who knew about his powers and his attempt at becoming a superhero. She also told him that he should register before he tried anything. He was too afraid of becoming a failure though and didn’t want anyone else to know if he did. Now with this awful mess he created he knew she, of course, had been right.

Finally, knowing he had to talk to someone about it even though it was embarrassing, he walked to the door and knocked. After a brief moment the door opened. “Elliot, you look horrible,” she said as she stepped aside to let him in.

“Thank you,” said Elliot with a big smile, which quickly faded and his whole body slumped as he walked through the door.

“Would you like anything to drink?”

“Water would be nice, thank you.” She went to the kitchen and met him in the living room. They sat on opposing leather sofas with a glass coffee table between them. The room had a vaulted ceiling, a large fireplace to one side and a window overlooking the pool in the back yard on the other. Elliot was staring blankly into his glass of water now resting on the table.

“So, what happened last night?” Wendy finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, Well… I think the police might think I’m on the wrong side of the law.” Unable to find words she stared at him until he finally continued. “I was out for the first time last night patrolling and I saw something unusual by a bank downtown.”

He told her of following Pronto into the bank, tripping the alarm, and the ensuing problems with the authorities.

“Sounds like you would have saved yourself a lot of trouble if…” began Wendy.

“I know, I know, I should have gone to them first.” Elliot said as he stood and began to pace. “If I had registered with them, this whole mess wouldn’t have happened, but it did. I don’t need a lecture right now, what I need is to know how to fix this mess.”

“I’m sure throwing a tantrum will help you figure out a solution to your problem.” She leaned back in the sofa and crossed her legs giving him her frequent ‘stop whining’ face.

“Sorry, Wendy,” he began as he sat back down on the sofa. “It’s just that I know I messed up big, and I’m really worried about how to get it fixed. Do you have any ideas?”

“Well, the way I see it, you can either turn yourself in and explain everything, hoping they are convinced sooner rather than later, or you catch this Pronto guy yourself, find proof of your innocence and his guilt and turn everything over to the cops.”

Elliot made a sad attempt at smiling. “You make it sound so easy.”

“No one said messes were easy to clean up.”

“No, I guess not.”