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Herr D
[chapter 15 continues]
Pull and cry of high winds. Dizzying pull straight up. The city below, lit but mostly asleep, like a drunken, sated lover. Aimless and violent, but somehow content, a warm, westerly gust of wind arced outward away from Jennifer’s apartment building . . . aimless, spinning bits of paper around and around . . . aimless . . .
Jennifer stirred a bit, opened one eye. She felt hot, almost feverish, and yet so, just, GOOD. She turned her head slightly to look at Mike, tangled in the sheet. A small, sad half-smile curled her lips. “Mike?” she whispered.
He made some small sound then, and moved his head a little.
“You’re a good guy. If you could do amazing things, what would you do?”
“MMwh?”
“It’s important Mike. What would you do if you could do things no one else could?”
A long pause followed. Then he said, only slightly sleep-slurred, “Superhero.” His breathing became shallow and regular. Jennifer saw double, suddenly, and closed her eye.
Just a few more shades darker in the pure air, just a few shades lighter through dark smoke. Look at me in that window. Mass of hair and generic face, waif body–Zephyr? Sounds playful, humorous. On a rooftop, the dust spinning and settling into the rough form of a ‘Z.’ How do you fight crime if you can’t FIND crime? Drifting outward, two familiar figures on a rooftop–what ARE you two doing? Dave with a camera on a tripod, making adjustments. Tia staring at a thermometer and a cheap pinwheel. Tia turned to the camera and put her show-smile on.
“As expected, from the data I’ve gathered, Zephyr is due to appear here sometime tonight. I have several questions prepared for it. ‘What do you want?’ ‘Why are you killing some peoples’ pets?’ ‘Why are you plaguing downtown Backington?’ ‘What ARE you?’ ‘Can you leave?'” Tia’s eyes went comically wide, and reflected briefly the large fist made of smoke that smashed in her irritatingly perfect little nose. Dave stood up, wordless, perfectly poised, while the only trash can in the alleys below that smelled of bad fish, peanut butter, rotten eggs, spoiled milk, dirty diapers, AND pet dung came down over him. He screamed like a girl as the camera smashed to bits against the trash can. Big letters made of gutter sludge, smeared on the inside of Tia’s raincoat, laying to one side, ‘No press, you #$%^!’
[chapter 15 will continue in January]
