Tales of the Parodyverse

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Spaztic Chyld
Thu Aug 10, 2006 at 01:24:20 am EDT
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The Reluctant Superhero -- PART V
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PART V

“Jacob? Jacob… I can still hear your TV… Jacob?”

Jacob was stunned to say the least. He slowly picked up the phone and covered the speaker with his hand. Was it just coincidence that the day after his debut flight that an old friend, who may or may not be involved in government intelligence, calls him up and needs to talk? “He-hello? Jayson? Is it really you?” he stammered out, trying not to sound too scared.

“Yeah Jacob,” he sounded rushed. “Hey, I don’t have a lot of time. I’m in Seattle. Can we meet up somewhere and talk?”

***

As Jacob got dressed and shuffled through his pile of dirty clothes for his car keys, he couldn’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and sheer anxiety. On the one hand, here was a friend whom he’d last seen about ten years ago (and last heard from about two years ago) calling him up to talk. On the other hand, here was a friend who just happens to call him the day after he’s first been witnessed flying in public- a thing he never hopes to do again. Yet, Jayson sounded as if he was in need of help more than anything else. In the end, a plea from a friend beat out his common sense, and he pulled his keys from the khaki slacks he’d wore the night before and rushed to his VW Minivan. Jacob climbed in and hit the garage door opener.

As the garage door opened, it revealed a typical misty day. Fall was always Jacob’s favorite time of year in the greater Seattle area. It would rain a lot, forcing one into a cozy couch with a book or to find some indoor activity to pass the time, and Jacob didn’t mind doing either. On the days that it didn’t rain, it was real misty out, kind of like a London fog but sweeter smelling, as the flowers and trees that grew plentifully abounded and filled the air with the smell of things that once were making way for things to come.

His Minivan, a custom job that he put together himself in his father’s shop, cut through the wet streets towards his destination, the original Red Robin restaurant, just across the University Bridge. It was the place where he and Jayson first met. Jacob was new in town and his mother invited kids from around the neighborhood who were about Jacob’s age to a small party. The two boys seemed to be like two peas in a pod and they were instant friends. These and other rushes of memories filled his head as he tried to push out of his mind the possible reasons why he sounded so urgent. It seemed only fitting that the place where they first met would be the place where they meet up again.

As he was getting ready to cross the bridge, the lights started flashing and the arm closed two cars ahead of him signaling the coming of some ship that needed the bridge drawn for passage. The boats that would pass through the drawbridge usually ticked off Jacob, but today it gave him more time to think about what he would say to Jayson when they met. As the bridge lowered and the cars ahead of him started moving, Jacob realized that he had no idea what his friend might look like after all of these years.

As he pulled into the tiny, overcrowded parking lot, the mist turned into rain. Jacob, having grown up in this area had no umbrella because, as was the case with most Seattleites, he had accepted the rain as a part of life. So, when he saw a man about his age holding an umbrella, standing just outside the door to Red Robin, he guessed that it was his friend.

“Jayson, is that you?” he called out. The man turned, but it wasn’t his friend. And though he was not the person he was there to see, the man surprisingly responded.

“Jacob? Jacob Turner?” he asked. Jacob noticed that the man had a photograph in his hand. When he nodded, the man handed him the photo. It only took a moment to realize that it was an old picture that he had given his friend of his fourteenth birthday at that very same location. Jacob looked up in wonder as the man continued, “I’m John, one of Jayson’s friends. He asked if I’d meet you here. He wanted me to bring you somewhere safer to talk.”

“Safer?” Jacob was getting worried. “Is Jayson in some kind of trouble?” Jacob asked as he followed the man around the corner of the building, just out of public eye. Then the man turned around abruptly.

“No, but you are.” Something hit him from behind that felt like an electric shock, and Jacob lost consciousness.

***

“Mr. Turner… Mr. Turner?” Jacob heard a voice calling to him from what seemed like miles away. Though he could hear, he was not able to see who was calling him or where he was.

“I can’t see…” he managed to mumble.

“Of course you can’t, you’re in the dark.” A blaring light came on, causing him to wince back and close his eyes. “Is that better?”

“Actually, now I can’t see anything but a big white spot. Does that thing have to be in my eyes?” Jacob realized then that he was tied to a chair and sitting at a table.

“It’s an unfortunate accommodation that we must make for the time being.” A second voice responded from the darkness.





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