Tag Archives: #superhero

Author’s Note: Adam Chance is who I might have been if I had been a superhero. I have plans to give him at least one full length novel. Maybe a graphic novel.

Adam practically skipped down the sidewalk. A pair of robins bounced across a lawn, pecking at worms in the grass. Early buds blossomed on the trees planted in the berm between sidewalk and street. Squirrels darted across the street. He avoided every crack, and waved to the Johnsons on their daily walk. A songbird chirped and trilled, its music carried on the afternoon breeze. He even hummed a tune under his breath. One of Cher’s. Matt loved Cher.

The closer he came to home, the more somber he became. By the time he slipped off his sneakers in the front foyer, his emotions were fully locked away.

“I’m home,” he called.

“In here.” His father waited for him in the living room. Jim Chance—the Colonel, as Adam called him behind his back—was seated in his reading chair tapping his fingers and frowning at his son.

“Something wrong?” Adam asked. He heard his mother bustling around the kitchen. 

“Sit.” He motioned to the sofa.

The tone brooked no argument. Adam knew he was in trouble. He dropped his bag and plopped down to wait. There was always a wait.

They stared each other down. Jim’s eye actually twitched. Adam tried not to look away for fear of being called a liar, for fear of being seen as weak.

“Where were you this afternoon?” The Colonel finally asked.

Several thoughts collided at once, but Adam didn’t know which train of thought to follow.

“Matt Walker’s house. You gave me permission to go during dinner yesterday.”

“I know.”

His mother let a steady stream of water run, drowning out the radio. The colonel had probably ordered Graciela to stay out of the living room.

“So what did you do at Matt Walker’s today?”

Fear bubbled up through Adam’s suspicion. “Just hung out. Read comics. Played videogames.”

“In the basement?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you kiss him?”

Adam paled. Dishes clattered in the kitchen.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The Colonel stood up and turned away from his son. Adam followed his father’s gaze out the picture window. Mrs. Rowland pushed her stroller. Past the house. She waved. Adam’s father just turned away.

“Did you do more than just kiss? Did you hug?”

“No,” Adam lied. He recalled the way he placed olive hands against Matt’s pale, freckled face.  The glowing smile that followed.

“Handjob?”

Pots and pans banged together. 

“No! No one got undressed.”

“Oral sex?”

Graciela turned up the radio and sang along to one of her Beatles favorites. “Because I told you before, no. You can’t do that…”

“Dad! I said no one got undressed!” Adam wrung his hands.

“Don’t ‘Dad’ me! Your ‘boyfriend’s’ father called not fifteen minutes ago, describing what he saw through the basement window.”

“He couldn’t have seen much. Not much happened!”

“I doubt that.”

“Well, he’s lying,” Adam insisted. “We were just curious.”

“Curious? What he described didn’t sound curious to me. It sounded like you’re a homosexual.”

Glass shattered in the kitchen. Graciela cursed in her native Tagalog.

Adam steeled himself. “Maybe I am.”

“What?” his father put a hand up to his ear.

“I said ‘Maybe I am.’”

Jim laughed hollowly. “Well, I’ll… sonofa…” He ran a hand over his pink scalp and paced. “Allen Walker was right.”

“What do you mean?”

His father stopped. “He called you a faggot who corrupted his boy. He said you’re not allowed over there anymore. Not that it matters. You’re grounded, so you won’t be leaving the house until you start high school next fall.”

“What?”

“And second, you wouldn’t be welcome there either. Matthew told his father that you had forced yourself on him.” 

Adam looked confused.

“He doesn’t want to be friends with a pervert like you. And you’re damn lucky nobody has had you arrested for sexual assault.”

Adam’s heart dropped into his stomach. “But I didn’t… that’s not…”

“That’s not what?”

He and Matthew had flirted for a month, kicking each other’s feet in the cafeteria, giving each other pats on the back and playful hugs that could have indicated close friendship, which was true. But they had also let their touches linger a little too long. They had snuck crooked smiles and scrunched noses and grins for weeks. With Matt, Adam felt warm and safe. 

“That’s not what?” Jim repeated.

But Matthew had been the brave one a week earlier, squeezing Adam’s hand during the scary moments of The Grudge. Matthew had leaned over and kissed him when the movie ended. Adam had just gone with it: the smell of Coca-Cola and Matt’s deodorant. The surprising softness of his often-chapped lips. The sudden rightness of—

Slap!

“Answer me when I ask you a question! You gonna to lie to me now? Tell me you’re not some kind of homo? That Mr. Walker and his son just imagined all this?”

Graciela appeared in the archway.

“Why you hit him like that?” she snapped.

“Go back to the kitchen,” Jim ordered. “I’m dealing with our son.”

“Our son,” she said. “And you slap him like a girl.”

“If he wants to act like a girl—”

“Who are you to say what is what?“ She flapped her arms and pointed at him.

“Oh, don’t start with me, Graci—”

“Do you know his heart?”

“I know he’s abnormal. A pervert.”

“By god, that’s his choice.”

Adam broke. Every muscle tightened. His heart rate rose. He tasted bile. The tears and snot started running. Pain washed through and out of his body. He didn’t want to be there anymore. He didn’t want to be anywhere. The room wobbled, grew fuzzy, and—

—Fwip—

atomic world whatthef… space between coffee table atoms sofa atoms reading chair inside the television Mom’s shadow box for Jim fireplace through the chimney waterfall painting through wall ohmygodohmy… family photos hallway bedroom door bedroom

—Fwip—

He screamed in pain and lost his balance, but his feet wouldn’t move. Instead, he heard a tearing sound and a thousand burning needles lanced his soles. He sat back, landing on his bed, still unable to lift his feet. He looked down and nearly vomited.

His bedroom carpet was in his feet.

“M-mom” he cried weakly, and the world went black.

He awoke to Graciela standing over him, praying rapidly in three languages. The vibration in his soles and the sound of cutting told him something was happening. He blinked and she clutched his hands in hers. He glanced down to see his father’s awestruck expression. 

“Don’t move,” Jim said. Scraping followed, and Adam felt pressure underneath his left foot.

“Ow. Ah. That hurts.”

“Just stay still.”

Adam focused on the pain. Instead of drowning it out, he traced the pressure, the burn, the prickling, imagining it going up his legs, through his groin, his spine, racing into his brain.

“Almost,” Jim said. 

Deep breaths and intense focus allowed Adam to stay awake as his father freed the right foot. Graciela had not stopped praying.

“Now just put them up.” His father picked both of his legs up and wrapped his feet together in an old bathroom towel. Adam adjusted himself to lie properly in bed.

“So… how did you do this?” The Colonel asked. Graciela hissed and shook her head.

“Graci, I need to know what just happened to him. I’m not gonna hurt him.”

Both Adam and his mother looked skeptical.

“Oh for Christ’s—. Look. Adam, I’m sorry I slapped you. I mean it. Okay?” Graciela seemed mollified. Adam didn’t speak.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said, working to sound gentle. “But you can’t move like this, and we can’t take you to a hospital without being able to explain why the carpet has sewn itself onto your feet. Maybe we can pass it off as a crazy glue accident?”

Jim began pacing again. Graciela jumped up and pushed him out of the room. “Rest. Your father and I will talk.” She offered a desperate smile and closed the door behind her.

Adam lay in bed staring at his feet. How had this happened? He didn’t remember physically walking down the hall. He was sitting in the living room, then standing in the bedroom. In between, he had felt tiny, like he was slipping between atoms. Like he was everywhere and nowhere at once. He tried to focus on it, but soon dozed off.

The next thing he heard were voices down the hall. He opened his eyes.  Blinked. It was night. His bedroom door opened, and two paramedics wheeled a gurney into the room.

“Where’s my mom?”

“She and your dad are down the hall,” the medic at his torso replied. The pair slid him onto a board and began strapping him down.

“What are you doing?” He wriggled to resist their efforts.

“Easy, son,” The medic placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just protocol.”

Once secured, they wheeled him back through the house. In the dining room, his mother took his hand, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.

“We’ll follow, Pinoy,” she said. “Your father just need to finish talking with the general.”

“General?” Adam asked.

“You’re going to an especial hospital. They take care of your feet.”

“And they have a general?”

She looked over her shoulder. “Just do what they say. We will see you.” She kissed his forehead.

“Mom?”

Graciela turned away.

“Mom!”

The medics hauled him into the darkness. 

“No!” he shouted. They began to wheel him faster toward a plain black van.

Not here, he thought. Not here not here not here

—Fwip—

He landed on the carpet back in his room. Shouts from outside followed as a medic came back inside.

“He disappeared!”

“What?” Chairs pushed away from the table and footsteps raced outside.

Adam glanced around the room, assessing his options. He barely had time to grab a bag before his mother appeared in the doorway.

“Your feet, Pinoy.” He turned to see bloody footprints across the carpet. “Do they hurt?”

“A little.”

She pulled him into a tight hug.

“You’re going to have to go with them, Pinoy. Strapped to a bed or on your own two feet.”

He pulled away.

“What? Why?”

“The general has taken custody of you.”

The gym bag fell from his hand.

“You’re giving me up?”

“Your father think you have something… a gift.”

“He called me a pervert.” She pulled him back into her arms, his resistance softened.

“That is gift, too. You are you. Always be you. Your father… he is not as strong as he pretend—”

“So you’re giving me up?” he whispered. A shadow fell into the doorway. They were right outside.

“I cannot leave your father, and this is what he wants to do. But I will be there when you need. Okay, Pinoy?” She sniffled, and her tears fell against his neck.

Now Adam pulled away fully.

“We’ll see,” he said.

He shoved a few days of clothes into his gym bag. His father stepped into the room. The General, a brute-looking man with a silver buzzcut and thick mustache, stood right behind him. His name badge read Lattimore.

“Adam—“

“You have nothing to say to me,” he barked, then turned to the general. “Let me grab my toothbrush and my shoes, General Lattimore, and I’ll come along quietly.” 

Lattimore nodded and retreated. Adam didn’t say a word to his parents, but walked resolutely out.

“No,” his mother hissed behind him. “You can sleep on sofa. Or in your son’s room. You took him from me.” He knew the slamming door was Graciela disappearing into his parents’ bedroom. The click that followed was her locking her husband out.