Marshall Conrad: A Superhero Tale Read online

  She gaped at me for a second and then burst out laughing. “I’m going crazy,” she giggled maniacally. “I have a secretive downstairs neighbor who says he works in law enforcement, though he’s not registered as a private investigator. He’s got two leather outfits hanging in his front closet and the guy who saved me from my stalker was wearing leather. I know I’d had a couple of drinks, but the guy who saved my life had glowing eyes, wore a hoodie, and could fucking fly! Christ, even the stalker could see that. He told the cops.”

  I motioned for Marnie to calm down, concerned she might blow a gasket and end in the nut house. It was enough that she knew my secret, and though I was tempted to tell her the truth, I worried that stories of Witchcraft, Ogres, Gremlins that raid refrigerators, and thirty-eight year old Siamese cats might push her over the edge.

  “All right, let’s assume you’re right,” I said diplomatically, hoping I wouldn’t set her off.

  “I am right!”

  “Fine. Since you’re right, let’s discuss facts. Would it be fair to say that a superhero needs to remain a secret?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you agree that most people aren’t exactly psychologically prepared to know that a man can fly?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  I decided to stretch the truth. If she believed I worked in law enforcement, then maybe she’d believe I knew about Greenfield’s elusive superhero.

  “Marnie, I want you to remain calm, okay?” I pleaded. “Can you do that for me?”

  “Do I look calm to you?”

  “I know how much you want to believe I’m the guy who rescued you, but I’m not. Now before you start throwing things at me, just hear me out for a second because I’ve done some investigating.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’ve researched the strange fact that Greenfield has an unheard of single-digit crime rate. It’s been that way for more than ten years,” I said. “The Greenfield Examiner has headlines going back as far as nineteen ninety-three that talk about criminals found handcuffed to everything from bike racks to car bumpers. Naturally that didn’t make any sense to me, so I dug a little deeper.”

  “And?”

  “Then I met someone who actually saw a person matching the description of the guy you described at Chesterton that night. Her name is Stella Weinberg, she’s an archivist. Anyway, she said that she knew about this superhero guy as far back as ninety-seven, and then handed me a police report she’d obtained where a suspect claimed that the guy who’d handcuffed him to the gate at Delaney Park had glowing eyes.”

  “Great, two other people can corroborate what happened,” Marnie huffed. “Did she mention that his voice sounds a lot like yours?”

  I scanned her face to see if she was buying what I was selling, but she still looked skeptical.

  “Marnie, my fiancée was dying in ninety-seven. The ovarian cancer spread to her liver, and the Greenfield County Hospital didn’t have the facilities to provide the right kind of treatment,” I said, immediately feeling like the biggest asshole in the history of the known universe.

  “In February of that year, I accompanied her to an Oncologist in Boston where she underwent chemotherapy for three months. She wound up in a hospice in October. She passed away in December.”

  “Oh my God,” Marnie whispered, the skeptical look on her face dissolving.

  “If I was capable of supernatural feats like this so-called superhero, I’d have devoted every ounce of whatever mysterious power I possessed into finding a cure for Cynthia,” I said, filled with regret. “I’m not your guy. I know you want to believe that I am, but this is a case of mistaken identity. I’m sorry.”

  She chewed her bottom lip for about a minute as she pondered what I’d just disclosed. I felt sick to my stomach for using the worst year of my life as an alibi, even if what I told her wasn’t entirely untrue.

  “I’m so very sorry about what happened to your fiancée,” she said, quietly. “You do believe that what happened that night was real, right?”

  “Yes. Though I’m starting to wonder where this superhero was hiding when we’ve got three unsolved murders in town,” I muttered.

  “Who do you think he is?” she asked.

  “Does it really matter?”

  “You’re damned right it matters,” she insisted. “People need to know the truth. Cripes, if a guy with glowing eyes who can fly goes postal one day, I don’t want that hanging over my head.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “I wonder if he has a name. I mean like Batman?” she asked.

  “Why would he need one?” I said. “His existence is a secret, and real life bears no resemblance to what happens in comic books.”

  She stared blankly at my broken coffee table. It was hard to tell if she believed me, her face was sullen and she had a distant look in her eyes.

  “What happened in your apartment tonight? Tell me the truth.”

  I sat down on the sofa and took her hand in mine. As I looked into her eyes, I didn’t see the brightness and optimism that made me like her so much. Instead, I saw a frightened young woman who’d spent far too much time obsessing over whether she was losing her mind or not.

  “Just a break-in,” I said. “When you open the papers tomorrow morning, you’ll probably find that a number of homes were trashed because of the blackout.”

  “I guess you’re right,” she shrugged. “I feel like a shit for freaking out on you.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” I said, still searching her eyes. “Want to know something?”

  “What?”

  “This might sound corny, but I really do like you,” I admitted, surprising myself. “Since the day you invited yourself into my apartment, you’ve given me something to look forward to. I’ve fretted over you. Worried about you. I’ve found myself daydreaming, like a school kid. Wondering what you’re doing, worrying about your safety.”

  “Really?”

  “I was a missing person until you came into my life. I spent years hiding from the world because I never wanted to hurt again. I guess that makes me weak. Since the night you stormed out of my apartment, I’ve missed your shining eyes, your insults and your sense of humor. I’ve just missed you, I guess. It’s stupid, I know, but—”

  “Shut up,” Marnie blurted out, as she threw her arms around me and kissed me. Softly at first, then purposefully—the kind of purpose that curls your toes and leads to clothes being ripped off and spontaneous love-making. Then, without warning, she stopped.

  “Marshall Conrad, are you in love with me?” she asked, the sarcastic tone I’d missed so much returning to her voice. “Cuz if you are, I’m thinking my pops would probably invite you over for a beer and a meeting with his Smith and Wesson.”

  “I-I’ve been alone for a long time,” I whispered. “I j-just—”

  “You are in love with me!” she laughed, her grin stretching from ear to ear. “Oh my God, but this is totally taboo! What about your morals and all that crap about the general wrongness of university professors who carry on with attractive female students?”

  “Umm, can I ask you something,” I whispered, inhaling the scent of jasmine in her hair. God she smelled good. “How did we get from you grilling me about superheroes to a tender moment on my couch?”

  “You’re not gonna get all moral again, are you?” she said, still preserving her sarcasm. “It would be just like you to ruin a spontaneous emotional connection by going over a checklist of why it’s so wrong that I’m in love with you.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, in a voice that cracked like a kid who just hit puberty at sixty miles an hour. “You l-love me?”

  “Well duhhh,” she said, kissing my nose as she stood up. “I’m not entirely sure why I love you. You’re cranky and miserable all the time and you’ve got a mean-ass chip on your shoulder. But I know my heart, and I know beneath that cantankerous shell is a deeply wounded man who’s terrified to come into the light.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, my voic
e still cracking. “Aren’t women who’ve been rescued by superheroes supposed to fall head over heels in love with them? I mean that’s how it goes in the comic books.”

  Marnie smiled. “First off, I don’t read comic books. Secondly, if were to fall for a superhero, I think a shrink would tell you that I have a subliminal need to be rescued, which I don’t. Besides, I’d have no interest in the guy if I knew who he was.”

  “Why?”

  “Self-preservation—pure and simple.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The object of the hero’s affection is generally the target of some crazed super villain, geez! That’s Superheroes 101, for crying out loud!”

  “Good point,” I laughed, escorting her to the door. “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I need to get some sleep,” she said, still grinning. “I have to work in the morning and God knows I won’t be getting any sleep knowing that my downstairs neighbor is in love with me.”

  She put her arms around me and squeezed whileI tentatively slipped my hands on her hips. “I didn’t say that I was in love with you,” I whispered. “Well, not yet, anyway. I don’t know what this is.”

  “Shh,” she said, placing her index finger on my lips. “Get some sleep, and clean this place up in the morning because we’re having dinner here tomorrow night—I’ll bring home some Thai food.”

  “I have a peanut allergy—I could die,” I joked.

  “Shut up, you moron.” She laughed, walking out the door.

  Chapter 30

  I circled June 21st on my calendar, and shook my head.

  I was nowhere near finding Grim Geoffrey’s host, and my apartment looked like a bomb site. The insurance adjuster who’d visited told me they couldn’t process my claim without a police report, and the last thing I wanted was another encounter with Sheriff Don Neuman now that he was planning to frame me for the unsolved killings.

  I replaced the sheet Marnie had hung over my broken sliding glass door with some transparent plastic, and proceeded to tidy up the mess in my apartment.

  The phone rang. It was Marnie calling from work during her break. Apparently she was still in love with me.

  “Hey you,” she said. I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was smiling. “Get any sleep?”

  “A couple of hours. Look, I think we should hold off on dinner tonight,” I said.

  “Relationship remorse already? It’s only been about twelve hours since I kissed you ,” she teased.

  “Umm, yeah—about that. Look, I like you, you know that.”

  “And I like you. What’s the problem?”

  “No problems, I just—Oh crap, I don’t know what I am supposed to say here.”

  I could hear a tapping sound on her end of the line and I imagined she was clicking her fingernails on a desktop. It had been so long since I’d been involved with anyone, let alone a woman twenty years my junior. I knew that if I were her father, I’d put a hit on the dirty old man who’d been trying to get my kid into bed and I’d probably have his balls hanging from my rearview mirror.

  “You’re going through that checklist of reasons why we shouldn’t see where this goes, aren’t you?” she asked, still sounding upbeat. “God, you’re so damned predictable.”

  “Sorry about that,” I mumbled.

  “It’s not like we’re getting married. Why don’t you just stop thinking so much and simply follow your heart?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  I’d completely shut myself away from the world after Cynthia died and even during our three years together, I wasn’t exactly a genius when it came to matters of the heart. Still, when Marnie was around, I felt half-human again. I was free to drop my guard and let her see the real me, the guy I’d forgotten about beneath ten years of taking out my anger on as many bad guys as I could find.

  Then there was the issue of Marnie’s safety.

  She was right about becoming the target of something that wanted me dead. If a cloaked Minion from the unseen world was powerful enough to attack me without my radar kicking in, then any number of bad things could happen to her. Hell, every bad thing and it’s dog was destined to happen during the summer solstice if I didn’t stop Grim Geoffrey. As much as I cared for Marnie, there were bigger fish to fry.

  “Let’s just take it slowly,” I said, trying not to raise her alarm bells. “Very, very slowly.”

  About ten seconds passed in silence and I readied myself for another lecture about my old-fashioned values.

  “I can do slow,” she said, in an equally serious tone. “I mean, this is uncharted waters for me, too. You’re not the only one who’s trying to make sense of their feelings. Tell you what, I threw the ball into your court, it’s yours to do with as you please. The next move is up to you.”

  “Really?” I tried to conceal the relief in my voice.

  “Yep. I’ve got exams coming up and I’m going to be buried in textbooks for the next six weeks anyway. Oh, and there’s that whole thing about finding the guy who saved my life.”

  “You really should let that go,” I warned.

  “Maybe I will. Who knows?” she said. “I’m actually starting to believe that he’s skipped town, so my search might just be a big fat waste of time.”

  “What makes you say that?” I asked, surprised by her assertion.

  “There’s something weird happening in Greenfield these days. Lots of bizarre stuff happening.”

  “Such as?”

  “Outside of three unsolved murders and everyone talking about a serial killer, there’s a whack of graffiti popping up all over the place—big red spirals everywhere. I have a friend who is studying Geology, they’re examining a bunch of rocks that have spiral engravings on them. It’s just nuts.”

  A sinking feeling nailed me right in the stomach and a wave of nausea rushed over me. I became dizzy and broke out in a cold sweat.

  “Y-You’ve seen them too, huh?” I asked.

  “Yep. Hey, I believe you about the break-in at your apartment last night,” she said. “You were right about there being a bunch of vandalism in our neighborhood during the blackout.”

  “Oh yeah? I haven’t read the paper yet.”

  “Forget the paper. When I walked out to my car this morning someone had smashed my windshield and there was a big red spiral painted on the hood.”

  My blood immediately ran cold.

  “Marnie, I want you to stay with me tonight. Got that?”

  “Umm, I thought you wanted to take things slow?” she asked, sounding confused. “What gives?”

  “A break-in at my place, your car gets vandalized. Spiral graffiti. You’re right about strange things happening in town. If they hit our place last night, they might not be done yet so let’s just call this an added measure of security.”

  “Sure, Marshall. Whatever you want. I’ll meet you in your apartment at around six. Sound like a plan?”

  “I’ll see you then,” I said, and hung up the phone.

  Chapter 31

  I am the world’s worst handyman.

  Unlike most guys, I don’t become breathless at the thought of winning a shopping spree at Home Depot. I’ve never darkened the doors of a hardware store in my entire life. I’d always maintained that if something can’t be repaired with either duct tape or a combination screwdriver, then it’s time to call a repairman.

  Of course, it’s difficult to find a plumber if your kitchen faucet explodes at three in the morning. Necessity forces a person to do some makeshift repairs that will get them through the night. My kitchen faucets were working even though the rest of my apartment was a war zone. My car, on the other hand, needed some improvised security measures now that Sheriff Don Neuman intended to frame me for eight murders.

  It was surprisingly easy.

  I simply unscrewed all four interior door panels and disconnected the wires leading to the power window motors as well as the power locks. I also removed the door lock knobs to prev
ent him from using a jig to enter my car. Finally, I injected super glue in the window frames so he couldn’t force the windows open. If the Sheriff intended to plant a severed head in my car, he’d have to smash the glass or force open the trunk to do it.

  I was in an unusually upbeat mood for a guy up to his ears in preventing a supernatural holocaust. Maybe it was the kiss Marnie had given me in my apartment the previous night, or that I’d successfully duked it out with two mythical creatures, I wasn’t sure. My ribs were sore and it hurt like hell to breathe, but the power that flowed through my body during combat was intoxicating.

  Stella once said a Vanguard’s powers are unmatched by nearly everything in the unseen world. I replayed my battle with the Minion, remembering that it crashed through my sliding door after I’d summoned a torrent of energy from the evil surrounding the creature. I’d shaped the energy into a powerful weapon through sheer force of will, conjuring a mental picture of what I wanted the weapon to look like and how I wanted it to function. Perhaps my powers were off the scale, as Ruby had suggested. Maybe the combination of powers associated with my being a Vanguard and a Sorcerer would give me an edge in defeating Grim Geoffrey.

  Since nobody had taken the time to instruct me in how to be either a Vanguard or a Sorcerer, it made sense to tinker with my abilities. I hopped into my Tempo and headed up the Interstate, hoping to find a secluded spot where nobody would see me experimenting. I drove for about three quarters of an hour, past rolling farmland stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions from the highway. I drove another ten minutes and pulled into an abandoned road overgrown with weeds and debris. My car sputtered along for three miles while I kept eyes open for any signs of human activity. The road led through a stand of pine trees, and I parked my car alongside a large boulder, ensuring it couldn’t be seen from the road.

  I got out of my car and surveyed the area.

  It looked secluded enough. I listened for any signs of life. Only the sound of the wind whistling through the pine boughs and the occasional bird chattering away in the distance. I walked through another stand of trees and came to an open space alongside a small creek, filled with the spring runoff. This was as good a place as any.