7
The Cowboy in the Parking Garage
A vision in the parking garage. The Cowboy. Bronson writes a letter. Blaze gets grilled.
Bronson set everything he would need for that night’s patrol out in front of him: a pile of Wee Glimmers, some Necro-Fancy Flash Papers, a throwing knife, the cape, and his mask. He heard some footsteps out in the living room. The front door to the apartment shut. He balled up some tissues and put them up his nostrils. He bowed his head and slipped the mask over it. He carefully eased it over the tip-top of his head lest it rip and leave him without a disguise. He tied the cape around his neck, placed the dagger in its sheath around his ankle, and placed the Wee Glimmers and flash paper in the cargo pocket of his shorts. He locked the trunk to keep his uncle from snooping, opened the window, and ascended the stairs up to the roof of the building.
He didn’t quite understand why superheroes always traveled by rooftop. For somebody like Spider-Man it made sense, but Batman or Daredevil? Why introduce another element of danger to an already dangerous job? Maybe they felt like fewer people would see them? Regardless, it was tradition and if Dogboy was going to be an actual superhero he figured he needed to get used to it.
He walked to the center of the rooftop and looked across the way to the parking garage next door. He traced a white line across the rooftop to a spot about three feet from the ledge then over the ledge and across to the parking garage. He took a moment to “feel it” like the parkour kid had told him to the other day. He took a few deep breaths and felt everything click. He ran as fast as he could along the rooftop. When he hit the spot he jumped up to the ledge, crouching down as he landed to absorb the impact. He bounced back up and flew off the edge. He looked down at the alley below and realized just how high up he was. The cement wall of the parking garage came into his field of view and he realized he hadn’t prepared for his role at all. He brought his knees to his chest and skidded as he hit the pavement, his calf scraping along the cold cement. As he came to a stop he winced, but it didn’t look that bad. His calf was scraped, but it wasn’t any worse than the rug burn he’d received playing soldier in the living room when he was nine.
He was happy he’d made it but decided maybe he’d had enough of rooftops for one night. Best to ease into it. He saw a stairwell on the other side and decided to head down.
Dogboy sprinted down the stairs. As he hit level four his vision went orange. He thought it was weird. He’d never had a “flash forward” as he’d taken to calling them without coming into contact with somebody before. He figured either his power was getting stronger or he was having a brain hemorrhage. He saw a woman back up against a brick wall. The sign next to her said Level 3. The woman screamed. The silhouette of somebody in a cowboy hat covered her.
And then the vision was gone. Dogboy was pretty sure it was the same parking garage he was in. It had looked similar anyway. It had to be close for his power to kick in like that, right? He crept down the steps and opened up the door to the third level. It creaked on its hinges. He froze. He peeked out the door. Nobody seemed to be around. He stepped out and looked to his left. The sign from his vision was there next to him.
He decided the best thing he could do was wait. But he couldn’t wait out in the open. He might alert the crook and miss his first opportunity at a real superhero adventure. There was a powder blue town car parked a few feet away from the door. He tiptoed over and tried the door handle. Locked. He lay down on the ground and rolled under the car. The dirty concrete floor didn’t do his already scraped leg any favors. He reached down and took the knife from its sheath then waited for the night to really begin.
Jody O’Leary was tired. She was supposed to leave the office hours ago but a client in London often “forgot” about the time difference. Conference calls usually sucked the life out of her, but this one had been beleaguering. She opened the door on the third floor of the parking garage (where she was pretty sure she’d parked) and looked around for her car as she dug through her purse for her keys.
She spotted the car right away, but her keys were harder to find. She dug deep underneath the foundation and empty packs of gum but she still couldn’t find them. “Oh my God,” she said. “If I left them in the office I am going to freak.”
Bronson had only slept a few hours the night before so it wasn’t surprising that he was fast asleep under the car. A puddle of drool pooled on the pavement. A women’s voice startled him awake and he jerked his head up to look around. It smacked off the oil filter but he caught himself before he could scream. He looked out from under the car and saw a pair of modest heels standing just a few feet away from him. This was it. He just had to wait a little longer for the bad guy to show up.
Jody was so busy looking for her keys that she didn’t see the man step out from behind the minivan parked a few cars down. She didn’t notice his shining white boots, his string tie, or his ten-gallon hat. She didn’t see him mosey toward her while he chewed on a piece of straw. But then she noticed, and it gave her a start. She jumped. Held her hand to her chest and laughed.
“Oh,” she said. “You scared me. Quite an outfit you’ve got there, cowboy.”
He smiled and tipped his hat.
“Name’s Blaze, darling. Beg your pardon. Do you need some help?”
Jody clawed through her bag for her keys.
“No,” she said, “I’m fine. Just looking for my phone. Have a good night.”
Blaze took hold of the hand she was using to dig for her keys and placed his other hand over it.
“Shame for a pretty little thing like you to be all alone out here. Give me your bag and I’ll help you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” He dropped the smile.
“Sir, you are making me very uncomfortable,” Jody said as she pulled her hand out his grasp. “I’m leaving. Okay. I don’t need any—”
“Ma’am, tweren’t a request. Don’t put up a fight. You’ll make me sorry for not turning out the lights.”
Blaze pulled a small pistol from the holster on his hip. Jody had assumed it was all part of the costume but now she was pretty certain it was an actual firearm. She backed up toward the door and felt behind her for the doorknob. He advanced on her until she was up against the wall. She tried to push out a scream but all that came out was a chirp. He put his finger up to her lips and shushed her.
Dogboy peeked out from underneath the car and got a look at the guy. Man, was he tall. And big. Dogboy thought it might be best to startle Blaze before showing himself. If he just jumped out from under the car the guy would have a few seconds to get the jump on him. He pulled the flash papers and a lighter from his pocket. He reached out and slid a few pieces of the paper under Blaze’s boot.
Blaze reached out and touched the women’s cheek. She looked away and her lip quivered.
“Aw, don’t you frown,” he said. “You sure are pretty. Let’s go down and spend a night in the city.” As he leaned in for a kiss he smelled something burning. Black smoke drifted up through his mustache and into his eyes. He looked down. His boot was on fire. He jumped back and hooped and hollered and tried to stomp it out.
Dogboy stabbed his throwing knife into Blaze’s leg from underneath the car. Blaze screamed and fell over onto the ground. He turned his head and saw Dogboy underneath the car.
“What in tarnation?” he said.
Dogboy rolled out from underneath the opposite side of the car. Blaze’s fingers dug into his ankle. He tried to pull loose but Blaze had a pretty good grip on him.
“Gotcha now, ya’ little rascal.”
Dogboy took his free foot and kicked at Blaze’s hand. He took hold of the body of the car with both hands and pulled. His last kick loosened Blaze’s hold and he wiggled his way out from underneath the car. He jumped up and ran around to the other side.
“You okay, ma’am?” he asked Jody.
By this point Blaze was up on his feet. He moved in toward Dogboy and Jody until he saw that Dogboy still had a knife in his hand.
“Don’t you folks worry. I guh-got the point. I’m in a hurry to get out of this joint.” Blaze turned and limped across the parking garage and out the door on the other side.
Dogboy turned around to Jody, who was still up against the wall clutching her purse.
“Hi there, lady,” Dogboy said with a huge smile hiding behind his mask, “Tell the world this crook has paid thanks to ‘The Amazing Dogboy.’”
Dogboy took a bow as Jody looked at him incredulously.
“You let him get away,” she said. “I wouldn’t call that ‘amazing.’”
“How about ‘fantastic’?”
Jody shook her head as she plucked her keys out of her bag and headed toward her car. “You know what, kid. I’ll give you ‘fantabulous,’” she said.
Dogboy thought it over. “That’ll work,” he said.
She turned around. “What’s a kid your age doing out this late anyway?”
“Um… sightseeing?” Dogboy said.
“In a parking garage?” she asked.
Dogboy shrugged. He pulled some Wee Glimmers from his pocket. “It’s been fun saving you, and remember…” He threw the Wee Glimmers against the ground and they exploded in a flash of light. Jody shielded her eyes as his voice echoed through the structure saying “I. Am. Dogboy.”
Jody looked back and saw that Dogboy was gone. Then she noticed some movement underneath the blue car.
“I can still see you, kid,” she said.
“Aw, nuts,” came Dogboy’s voice from underneath the car.
Blaze sat in subway tunnel as a train blew by him. He held onto his hat so it wouldn’t blow off his head. He was avoiding going back to where he slept. Andrus wouldn’t be happy. It was one thing to botch a robbery. It happened to old timers and newbies alike almost every night. It was another thing to have his hat handed to him by some kid playing dress up.
There was no avoiding it though. The sun was coming up and that meant he needed to get underground. With the way Mayor Lane was cracking down it wasn’t safe to be out during daylight hours. For all he knew every cop in Colta City had his picture. It’s not like he tried to fade into the shadows either. The other guys made fun of his whole cowboy motif but he liked it. It reminded him of his life before the Guild.
He’d been a performer in a show at Curleyworld on the outskirts of the city. Once an hour he and a dozen other guys would emerge from the saloon in the Old California section of the park and have a shootout for about fifteen minutes. Families who’d come up to him after the show always told him he had the best death scream. It was a good job, and he was sorry he’d lost it. He’d found a key in the maintenance room that opened up the guest lockers people locked their valuables in at the entrance to the park. It wasn’t like he was taking people’s stuff that they were depending on. No, he’d go in after the park had emptied out and take anything that they’d left behind. It was never much. A wad of bills here. A gold ring there. But they caught him. He did keep his spare costume though.
He’d holed up in his apartment after that, but when he ran out of money his landlord called the cops. His first days on the street were hard. The soup kitchens ran out of food fast and the homeless shelters filled up even faster. He’d sleep behind a dumpster on 15th Street during the day and wander around at night asking random strangers for change so he could go to the all-night 7-11 and grab a couple taquitos. He did pretty well with his costume and cowboy shtick, but as the costume got dirtier and he got smellier the “donations” began to dry up. It was a middling existence, and lonesome.
When winter came, living on the streets became unbearable. One night it got so cold he even risked going down into a subway station for a couple of hours so he could get feeling back in his toes. He was hopeful he could stay under the cop’s radar that long. He was sitting on a bench out of the way of most of the foot traffic when he saw another homeless man walk to the edge of the platform, look around, then jump down onto the tracks. He followed him since he figured he might know something. And that was the night he met Andrus and his life changed.
But he didn’t want to face Andrus now. He was ashamed of what had happened but he knew he had to tell him. Andrus didn’t seem to be bothered by cops interfering with the Guild’s work, but if there was some kid out there playing superhero he’d want to know. He hoped that Andrus’s reaction wouldn’t be too severe. Andrus wasn’t kind when he wasn’t happy. As he wandered down the subway tunnel he hoped that the information he had would outweigh the news of his defeat.
Bronson crawled back in his window and placed his costume back in his trunk. He laid down on his mattress and watched the city lights outside of his window. He played the scene of him taking down the cowboy over and over in his head. He couldn’t believe he stopped a crook. Sure, he’d escaped but that just meant they were bound to face off again another day. Maybe Blaze would become his arch nemesis. He knew he’d have one eventually. Every hero does.
He sat up and dug around in his trunk. He pulled out a composition notebook hidden in one of the side flaps and flipped it open a few pages. He’d started writing his parents letters. Sure, they’d never read them but he thought it would make him feel a little better and he had to tell somebody about what happened that night.
Dear Mom and Dad,
The reason I’m writing you is to let you know that I found the trunk. The mask. The tricks. Everything. It’s a superhero outfit, right? I hope so because that’s what I’m using it for. Dad, did Mom know you were giving me this? I bet she didn’t. She would have never let you give me real knives. And the whole “seeing into the future” thing… Have you been able to do that forever? I wish you’d been able to stick around a little longer to tell me how it works. I wish you’d both stuck around a little longer in general. I miss you guys.
So, anyway, the trunk. I went out on my first adventure tonight. I saved a lady from a guy who was dressed up like a cowboy. How crazy is that? It was kind of a cheesy costume. Kind of like in those old Roy Rogers movies you tried to get me to like. Anyway, I stabbed him in the leg. Just a little, though, don’t worry. And he was going to attack her or something. I had to. I did pretty good though. She even thanked me.
Well, I just wanted to let you guys know about all that. I miss you. If anything about this power means you can come back, do it. I don’t even care if you guys are zombies or something. I just want to see you again. I love you.
-Bronson
Andrus sat in the corner of the dark room watching Blaze squirm under the light. He was a thin man, unremarkable apart from the black hood and top hat he wore. Blaze had come back empty handed, which was a big no-no even for somebody Andrus trusted as much as he trusted Blaze. In the short time Blaze had been in the Guild he’d proved invaluable and often brought in more than a dozen other men combined. His appearance allowed him to get close to his marks before they suspected a thing.
“You’ve done wrong by the Guild tonight,” Andrus said. “Some of your brothers will go hungry. What happened out there?”
Blaze took off his hat and placed it over his chest. His hands were shaking, which pleased Andrus. He preferred his men to have a healthy fear of him. “I’m sorry,” Blaze said. “I done got caught.”
Andrus gripped Blaze’s hair and yanked his head back. “The police? You know you’re supposed to stay away from here for at least a week if they catch you. You’ve compromised every one of your brothers.”
“It wasn’t a cop who popped me,” Blaze said.
Andrus let go of his hair. “Well, then who was it? One of your marks?”
“It was some little punk, tweren’t coulda been more than fifteen or so I reckon.”
Andrus laughed. “A child? You were caught by a child? If I was you I would have lied and said it was a large man, but nobody would lie about a child. A child? Amazing.”
“He got the drop on me while I wasn’t lookin’, Andrus. Stabbed me in the leg. He was wearing some weird get-up too. Looked like a dog.”
Andrus returned to his desk. “A dog you say?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” replied Blaze.
“Ah, well. How were you to know? We’ll do better tomorrow night, won’t we?”
Blaze put on his hat, stood, and smiled. “I reckon,” he said, “and if I see that kid again I’ll whip him like the mutt he is.”
“Now don’t be too hasty. Why don’t you bring Hot John and Professor Osbert in here. I think we might be able to make use of this dog boy.”
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