Power Pack #3 - May 2008

It wasn't like Katie to talk so, well, childish, despite being a child herself. But when one is confronted with a giant horned demon monster man who is then defeated mysteriously by a 13 year old, one can only describe that experience as "awesome." Or, perhaps, "odd."

Jack and Katie stood at the side of the quiet neighborhood street. It was still afternoon, the sun was still shining, and there was no bubbling, lava-filled holed in the middle of all that pavement, leading to Aych-Ee-Double-Hockey-Sticks. Ordinarily, this would be normal, however in this case it was the complete opposite of something the two young Power children had nearly come to accept as actually happening.

"You beat that demon guy. Barbermush! You scared him and he took off! How did you do it? Are you a mutant? Let me see your pupils. Oh my god! We need to get back to my lab! Do you think you can fly too? Maybe we should call the Avengers! Codenames! We need codenames!"

Katie continued to blather on, counting things on her fingers and drawing shapes in the air, wandering about as if a butterfly flew around her head.

The usually quite boisterous Jack, meanwhile, remained stunned for several reasons.

"A gremlin, Jack! Oh jeez! What if it got wet?! We'd be surrounded by them. But you could probably still save us. I mean, you're invincible now! This is the most exciting thing that's ever happened! I think this is what I've been waiting for. If it's not, it's totally pointing in the right direction. I gotta get to the lab!"

Jack stared blankly at his sister. Eventually, he would break from his spell. This was a normal reaction to being faced with unexpected events and usually the best remedy was to counter with a separate unexpected action, such as a slap in the face, a splash of cold water, or your little sister being hit by a car in the middle of the street.

The car, a shiny new thing with fancy doodads and gizmos inside, screeched to a gleaming silver halt.

A door slammed as Jack shook Katie's still form back and forth, with a chorus of oh-craps and please-don't-be-deads through burgeoning sobs.

He remembered that dead bodies are supposed to be cold because when souls leave, there's nothing to keep the heart warm.

It was hot to the touch. Scolding, actually. Really, if you get right down to it, she was burning up.

Alex and Julie Power sped out of their school parking lot, around the winding roads as fast as they could to avoid the traffic of big ugly yellow monsters that they have proudly defeated, ascending to the ranks of Have-Car.

The crappy-but-has-character auto bobbed and weaved, ran yellow-pretty-much-red lights and then finally slowed when it hit town, ahead of the rush. Huzzah.

Alex relaxed himself and stretched an arm behind Julie's seat. He was made fun of for this act on more than one occasion, sparking jokes about really quite gross things that he'd rather not discuss. The fact was that he was a young man who needed to stretch out wherever he was. At the movies, in the dentist's chair, at the dinner table, while white-water rafting, in the penalty box during hockey; they were all susceptible to Alex's lanky arms and legs being strewn around like a ragdoll in a way that many would say "can't be comfortable" yet is, really, very comfortable after all.

"I mean, I'm not gonna tell him but I'm sure the school will call or something."

Julie's subtle annoyance grew to such a passive aggressive level that there was no harder and more intense way she could have rolled her eyes at her bored brother.

"You know," Alex started before Julie was for sure definitely going to open that door and roll out of the car. "I don't even remember the last time I saw dad for more than, like, a glimpse. Isn't that—"

"Huh?" Alex looked to where Julie didn't point, trying to spot something familiar and not hit the Chevy in front of him.

Alex's heart skipped. There she was, just a-walking down the street, singing do wah diddy—

Alex switched off the radio. The car had slowed to dangerous single-digit levels. Julie glanced over at her now otherworldly sibling.

"Are you going to offer her a ride or just stalk her from this very conspicuous car?"

He pulled to the side a little and rolled down his window, the old fashioned way, without buttons. Eventually, he could stick his head out, which he did with much abandon, giving those behind him a face to hate at last.

"Natalie! Hey, Natalie! Hey! Natalie, hey! Hey, it's me! Hey, Natalie! Hi! Natalie!"

This went on as Alex tried shouting across the street and between the blaring horns. Natalie blissfully strutted with her iPod. The giant white ovals at her ears did not clue Alex in.

Julie sighed, rolled down her window, stuck half her body outside, and threw a dusty Snickers bar that had been sitting in the car as sort of a memento for that time they bought the Snickers bar and didn't eat it, for approximately seven and a half months.

The chocolate treat hit Natalie in the face. She turned around, bewildered, in many more directions than necessary, finally settling on Alex's sheepish and wide-eyed head, frozen in smiling red-faced terror.

"Heeeeeeey… Nataliiiiiiie…" he replied, extending the vowels in ways that can't be typed.

Natalie pulled her headphones down around her neck and her eyes lit up at the parade of cars growing behind Alex. "Um, you should really—"

Natalie wasn't used to being shouted at, especially not by someone smiling so hard. She tried to think of an excuse to say no, perhaps that she needed the exercise or that she liked walking 5 miles home when her brother forgot that he had a sister and left school early with the Pontiac. But in the end, perhaps out of fear of a mob uprising, she just nodded and trotted over to the car.

Alex continued smiling and said with the skills of a ventriloquist, "Get in the back, Julie."

She sighed, tried opening the door with just enough force that it wouldn't break off but still show that she's mad at the whole affair, and then stomped out and back in with a slam. Natalie hopped in her place with a gentle whisper of celebrity superhero Protagonist Girl's latest fragrance, Justice Bitch.

"Hey, thanks," Natalie said as she buckled in. Alex had dropped his seat back a step, anticipating that it would make him look aloof in a cool way. Instead it just made it harder to steer.

Reflexively, Alex began driving toward Natalie's home and the two realized silently that there should be no good reason why he would know where she lives. But they soldiered on, ignoring the pervy elephant in the car.

They pulled off the main town streets and onto the quieter, rustic roads that upstate New York is plagued with, the kind of spots that you have to drive through twice as fast to get away from the smell of manure only to fall face first into a pair of enormous cabbage farms.

Julie nodded in a way that said "I almost wish you didn't know my name but I'm also kind of sickened that you weren't sure what my name was and yet here you are in the family car for some reason." To Natalie it just looked like a sign of affirmation.

"Do you have…" Julie got a look from Alex in the rearview. "…any thoughts about, um, free trade?"

Julie opened her mouth to ridicule the girl but found she was too perplexed and had to think of a good comeback. This was rudely interrupted by a sudden tremor in the ground. The car shook and Alex lost slight control, as if hitting an ice patch.

"Whoa," Natalie said, her arms out to steady herself on the tight rope of the road.

Alex's hands gripped the wheel so hard he could feel the faux leather digging into his fingers.

It was getting so close. Julie slowly turned around in her seat and looked over the dead bugs, the soda cans and forgotten sun-faded toys.

It was at this point that he finally looked in his mirror and saw, eclipsing his sister's head, the creature that Douglas Carmody had become. It was massive, sickly and slimy in the afternoon light, leaving a trail of slobber and bits of its own dead flesh and nails as it vaulted on two legs and one gargantuan arm, the other being used to swipe a car out of the way. It flew into the air, vaulting over the monster, before landing on its side with great impact. Other vehicles behind it swerved and screeched.

Alex pressed the gas further than he thought it could go. The engine roared as best it could, now drowned out by Natalie's impressive B-movie scream.

Julie glanced back at her brother whose eyes did not leave the road in front of him, zigzagging around slower traffic that he hoped, in a silent atheist prayer, would be quick enough to pull over and out of the way of the creature. When she looked back, however, it was gone. A quarter mile of destruction was left in its wake, holes in the asphalt and a small fire looming in the distance.

The car kept moving as fast as it could. A subtle calm fell over them. There were no more bangs, no smashes or tire squeals besides their own. Natalie's frantic breathing could be heard over the engine.

The roof caved in. The windows exploded. A hole tore through the metal and Alex lost control, fishtailing, spinning, spinning, spinning so fast. His foot slammed on the brakes over and over with no perceived effect. And then there was another impact, another hit on the side. A police car pushed the tiny vehicle down the road and finally to a stop.

There was smoke and the sound of something dripping and moans. There was also quiet, uncomfortable and foreboding. They each knew that they could not break their lulls quick enough.

The passenger door was yanked open. Natalie's seatbelt was unfastened and she felt her body momentarily carried out of the her place before being dropped on the hard, cutting ground.

Her ears rang. She couldn't open her eyes. The sun hurt. She just wanted to sleep.

Julie crawled out of the car and laid beside Natalie, her breathing shallow and calm. She regarded the devouring beast a yard away with tranquil curiosity.

It was Alex. He was bleeding, like the rest of them, but he was moving. He was strong and aware. He was going to save them all.

Julie tried pulling herself up and succeeded on the second attempt. She hopped with pain at first, realizing it was at her side and arm, which hung like a wet towel. Alex was at Natalie's feet, trying to wake her.

Something hit the hood of the car, hard. Julie jumped and shook herself awake, told herself that she had to start moving faster, to ignore the hurt and the taste of metal. She looked back and saw a policeman sliding off the car, a ragdoll in blue and red. She saw Alex scooping Natalie up from the ground, saw him move like a hero with gritted teeth and blood in his sandy blond hair.

He ran past Julie and he kept going without looking back. For if he did, he would have saw that the deformed demon that was Carmody, the Bogeyman, was standing but inches behind his sister, full of hungry rotted teeth that had just tasted flesh.

Inside the Power home, things were quiet, still. The television was off, the phone hadn't rung in some time, the windows were all closed and the curtains were drawn. There was no life here, save for the occasional plant, yet even that had a dead quality to it, as plants tend to have. No, there was nothing to speak of inside the Power house, no children playing in their rooms or doing homework or crunching on chips over the kitchen floor. There was no mother, no father, no babysitter. No aunt from out of town or a cousin who lived sort of nearby. No kind and nosy neighbor or aging grandparent who adamantly refused a retirement home. Not a dog or cat or even fish.

And perhaps all of this would be normal, even past three in the afternoon on the quiet street of suburban upstate New York, if it was not like this nearly always, every day.

There came a pounding on the front door. Once, twice, and then a third time. It was not a knock but a kick, hard and pleading. Outside, Jack cried with his little sister slung over his shoulders like a backpack.

He yelled through tears and spit for the door to open, but it didn't. His head banged on the door until he started to feel it and then let it sit there. He felt his sister's heart beating so slowly, pulsing through his back. His face contorted into an angry frown and he stepped back and gave it another wild kick.

A hole exploded, splinters of wood flying all over the landing inside the house. Jack slipped through, mindful of Katie.

He moved as fast as he could to the basement door. As usual, the light was red. But Jack believed this to be a good sign; it meant his father was home and he could help them.

Jack's elbow pressed the buzzer on the door, the one marked "EMERGENCY." He kicked and shouted some more. No one answered.

There was no one there, just steps in the darkness. No one had ever been inside the basement. They didn't know what went on there, only that it was none of their business.

Jack crept inside. The lights came on automatically, revealing a surprisingly mundane laboratory. It was clean, very white, and covered with the kinds of things that Jack had expected from watching so many movies. Only it was cleaner, more organized. Somewhat boring. There was a large screen on the wall, hooked up to a string of computers, each actively computing, as they are wont to do. At the opposite end of the room was a small round platform with thick wires and cables coming from it and two pairs of metallic arms crisscrossed over one another, attached to a panel at the ceiling and leading to the edge of the platform, like an upside down blender.

The lab wasn't very large and there were no places to really hide. The cabinets were too small, the space too open, and the only additional room was a small lavatory, however Jack could plainly see that the door was open and there was not a soul in sight.

Jack went down the steps and moved to a cot that had been propped open near the computers. He gently placed his sister down on it, looking over his shoulder to make sure she landed safely. Katie uttered a small moan.

There should be blood, Jack thought. That car hit her and… and there should be blood everywhere. There should be blood and dad should be here to fix her.

The dawning realization that Jack's father may be gone forever, in fact may have never even been there to begin with, was crushing down on his shoulders. He felt weak and faint and lost and he slumped down the cold concrete floor, painted white so meticulously.

What was this lab, he wondered? What was the point of it? What's he building in here?

Jack searched his memory, trying to recall the last time he saw his father, the look on his face, whether he had a mole or freckles or was near-sighted. If he liked old TV shows or ice cream.

"I'm going to chew you slowly, one piece at a time. I'll start with your toes and then take your whole foot. I'll nibble around the edges, getting your fingers and your hair until you're just a lump that can't even crawl. And then—"

Julie blacked out. She could no longer hear the spitting sounds of Carmody's mouth, the fat slaps of his tongue against teeth and lips. She was somewhere else, a beautiful place made of bright colors. She saw herself from far away, a wiggly black and white sketch of a person, and she walked the tropical landscape that was painted at her feet.

A blue elephant galloped toward her, bouncing over a pink and green mountain village.

From the elephant's mouth came a mouse with a fez hat, and with that mouse was a rolled parchment. He removed a pair of reading glasses from an invisible pocket, unfurled the letter and began to squeak.

Julie smiled politely when the rodent finished, turned on her heel, and made to leave. She was halted by a smiling cardboard box which told her, through scrapes and bumps, that she was not dead but in a safe place where she could once again become herself.

I don't know. Ask the Loose Change, the box replied and drew a frown on its other side with a permanent marker before the wind picked it up and carried it tumbling down the hill.

Julie rummaged in her paper-like pockets and pulled out various coins she had never seen before.

"You must spiral upwards and flow together into your new life that is your old life. The dead must be reborn."

"Go to the tallest mountain to the east and delve into the shallowest water of the west. There you will find the shades of blue that will begin your own mandala that should guide you to clear light."

Julie looked to the east where a jagged crystalline mountain of deep blue glimmered. A small gust of wind blew at her strands of India ink outlined hair and caught her attention toward the west, where the ground ended and the beautiful serene turquoise ocean began.

Franklin D. Roosevelt, Elizabeth II, the rampant lion, Saint George, Yi Sun-sin, and the seventeen-and-a-half tentacle fang monster from the deep all sighed and shook their heads (or tentacles) at one another.

When Alex was a young boy, he would pretend to have an imaginary friend. This was a ruse to himself and others, as he was fully aware that he did not have an imaginary friend. But so many of his real friends had them, he felt left out and attempted to force one into existence. This friend had no name, he never talked to Alex, and in fact their only interaction was while he was in a moving vehicle, looking out the window. The friend would run up alongside the car, feet peddling at super-speed, and he would smile and wave at Alex. It was then Alex's cue to goad him into leaving him alone. He would motion at the window and mouth the words "go away!" with intensity.

No one seemed to really notice and eventually Alex forgot about his pretend imaginary friend, the nice spandex-clad speedster with no name.

Sometime later, he began showing up on his own accord. Except now, it would be during the stillest moments, the times Alex wanted to be left alone by everyone else. He would sit at the old corner playground as the sun set, poking at the ground with a stick, and there he would be, garbed in purple and black with a pair of goggles forever hiding his face. His Technicolor light spectrum trail nowhere to be found. He would sit, silently, chin resting on his propped fist, staring at the ground or the clouds or the looming moon.

He would be there when Alex's father wasn't, when he could confide in no one, or when he wanted nothing more than to leave his home and go somewhere, anywhere else. He was there when he felt powerless and weak, when he became so frustrated over the smallest things and had to try his hardest not to break the cabinets, to put holes in the wall, to kick the neighbor's dog.

And he was here now as his legs felt like they were giving out, carrying his not-so-secret crush in his arms, fleeing from a monster from the darkest pit of hell. He walked, sidelong and backwards, staring at Alex and the girl. Alex dared not look at his face because he knew without even doing so, the pained expression he wore. He closed his eyes for just a moment. His feet dragged. A tear tried to escape. He snuffed it out. The speedster bit the inside of his lip and looked at the ground, followed Alex's trail to Natalie in his arms, and he looked away.

He would save her, he would get her to safety, this girl he barely knew. He would find help. She would get better and be so thankful. They would stay as friends first, close, with a history that no one else could share with her, an unspoken connection, something they would tiptoe around but would always be at the back of their minds. "He saved me," she would think. Perhaps they would become lovers, perhaps it wouldn't work out, yet they would always have that bond. On some level, they would always love each other. She would not forget, he would describe her as "the one that got away."

Alex opened his eyes, looked down and accepted with regret that he was carrying a corpse.

The hook dug into the gemstone and for the millionth time, it apologized when the mountain said "ow." It was jarring at first, kind of cute the second and third time, but after several perceived hours, it took all of Julie's will to ignore it. She had reached the top at last and as she laid down on her back to catch her breath and regain strength, she couldn't help but noticed the blue-haired shirtless man standing between her and the canary yellow sun.

She squinted, trying to recognize the upside down face. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite make it out and he remained unfocused. She did, however, notice his bare feet poking out from beneath his hakama pants. They were filthy.

He hmphed and walked away. Barely a moment later he came back and kneeled over Julie.

"You don't look well. Take this," he said and presented a deep blue rock. Instinctually, she opened her mouth and he slipped it over her tongue. Julie closed her mouth, rolled the rock around, and eventually swallowed. It tasted like a rock. And dirt.

Julie grew more tired and less aware of her surroundings. However, she could distinctly make out the sound of something being dragged along the ground nearby. Something heavy, possibly wooden. And then she herself was being dragged and then lifted and before she knew it, she sat in a sort of basket.

"Off you go, then," said the blue-haired man before swinging an axe, cutting the rope that kept the catapult from firing.

Julie soared through the air, over the watercolored world below, and felt the strangest sense of déjà vu that she didn't quite have enough time to reflect on, because she was now falling.

To be more specific, it had transformed from a sensible eggshell white with faint floral patterns to a full size mural made from ketchup, mustard, relish, mayonnaise, wasabi, various sauces (soy, Louisiana hot, barbecue, duck, A-1 steak, and chili), and two types of jam (strawberry and blueberry). It was still in progress, but it appeared to be a shrine to a great frog king who sat in an extravagant throne room, a scepter in one hand and a sword in the other. Around him were various figures that were more difficult to make out. Some looked human, others lizard-like, who were facing a similarly sized group of horse people on the opposite side of the room.

Jack had just urinated in the corner, taking a break from the mural. His fingers were covered in foodstuff. He then left the room, wiping his hands along the wall and furniture on his way. His face was blank and serene as he pulled a knife from the couch that it had previously been stabbed into and went to the windows, where he sliced down the center of the drapes, cutting the fabric into many pieces. He walked up the stairs to his father's bedroom, which was lined with artwork and photographs of his beloved family. Jack went into his closet, pulled out a vintage baseball bat signed by Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris in 1961, and he began swinging. The first thing to go was his nightstand, sending the alarm clock and half-read books flying. Then the photographs. Jack smashed them all, especially the group photos. His brother, his sisters, he almost started crying when he saw the one of he and his dad after a Yankees game, but it, too, was destroyed in a single swing. By the time Jack had left the room, the only piece of decoration that remained, the only thing at all that stayed whole in this room, was a lone photograph of his dead mother. Besides himself, it was the only trace of evidence Jack could find that she even existed.

"Do you want a banana?" the starfish asked. Julie shook her head, her mouth full of tangy lemon ocean water and her teeth clutching onto a piece of turquoise seaweed that breezed through the swim like her red hair, only greener and not really red at all.

She burst at the surface and climbed into the canoe. An arrow shot past her face and hit the wooden side. There was a note attached. Looking around for the archer but growing uncomfortable accustomed to death-defying things happening in this place, she removed the crusty parchment and read aloud:

She looked at the slop of seaweed and the paper in her hand and remembered going through her dad's record collection, coming across a Cheech & Chong album that came with its own branded rolling paper. There was still half a sheet left.

Julie rolled her eyes. "You've gotta be kidding me." Her eyes rolled all the way around again and settled on the sky. "This isn't very mature, you know!"

Another arrow shot past her with another note. This one hit the floor. A little water leaked in.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Julie broke off a piece of the slimy seaweed and put it on the paper then began rolling it as best as she could. It ended up looking very much like someone spit their food into a napkin and rolled it up to hide under their plate. It also hung down a little at the end.

Julie looked around and realized she had no matches, as she did not anticipate having to smoke a bluish green seaweed from a faintly Lipton iced tea tasting body of water. She looked at the sky.

The arrow hit at precisely the right angle so that its fire-lit end igniting the tip of the faux joint.

After saying a silent apology to her parents, Julie puff-puff-passed and then threw up in the canoe.

Alex first felt burning, then a sharpness and finally a pain in his stomach when he heard the sound of his left arm being crushed in the hands of the Bogeyman. He screamed and the thing forced him to the ground, hovering over his face like a palm tree with teeth.

"Big boy Alex Power, our fearless leader! There was a time when I could barely touch you. I remember your fists smacking me around, beating me to a pulp. And now look at you. You're nothing. You hid yourself so well that you've lost all your guard. So now I'm going to eat all of you, one by one. And I'm starting with your sister."

Carmody spat sludge when he talked and his breath smelled like mold. Alex closed his eyes in pain and could do nothing to help his sister, who he imagined was still laying motionless, helpless, completely vulnerable and about to be gobbled up by some sick and depraved monster that hated them all and no one knew why.

And then he felt the hot grip of his forearm release and wind rushed his tears of hurt off his face. He opened his eyes and saw the ground speed past below him through a shower of colored light. He felt the soft hands beneath his armpits. He looked up and saw his sister, looking straight ahead. She wasn't happy.

They didn't talk anymore. Didn't acknowledge that Julie was flying, that she had enough strength to carry her older brother and that she was leaving a brilliant trail of cosmic light in her path.

[1] Barnaby was knighted post-mortem due to his valiant defense of his lord and friend, Jack Power. He will be remembered forever as the bravest frog this side of the Atlantic. That is, of course, until the year 2341 when Tobias Grouch saves two thirds of the universe from annihilation at the hands of the Diptera Invasion.
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[2] Technically, her eyes are 88.5% copper, 6% zinc, 3.5% manganese, and 2% nickel, but it sure looks like gold, am I right?!
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