The Powers May Be

I wrote part of the rough draft of this as an exercise during one of our writer groups and finished it later. I don’t exactly remember the theme, but I think it had to do with someone in a waiting room. I just threw my own unusual twist on it. 😉 I just thought it was cute and wanted to share it.

(Please keep in mind that while I am making this story free for you to read, it’s still mine, so it’s © 2016 by J.M. Scheirer. Please don’t claim it as your own for sales purposes or bragging rights. I have a special set of skills, and I will find you, and… Well, the rest I leave up to your imagination.)

The big old annual check up. The once a year time I see a doctor, if I can help it, that is. Of course, being a superhero, that’s not usually a problem. And I’m not talking the regular old joes at the height of their physical prowess with plenty of clever gadgets. Nah, I’m your stereotypical jacked up kind. You know: the kind that has to make sure she doesn’t squeeze coal too hard or it becomes diamonds.

I look up from the copy of People I’m thumbing through to glance around the waiting area. So far, no one has noticed anything unusual about me. I know the League has physicians of their own, but Dr. Monroe has been my general practitioner since I was little, so if anyone would be able to tell something off about my performance, she’d be the first. Of course, since she serves the general public, I always have to go to my appointments on the down low.

The miserable looking woman in her early thirties across from me has a little girl with her. Can’t be much older than eight or so, but I’m terrible about guessing ages, especially when it comes to kids. Until about twenty, they all look to me like I should give them a lollipop and pat them on the head. Then again, I’ve seemed twenty-eight for about ten years now. Comes with the territory, which has its ups and downs. Flirting can be fun, but constantly getting carded, and worrying about breaking any guys I might take home, isn’t so much.

The little girl is staring at me with wide eyes. I think she might have recognized me. She blinks like one of those owls you see in nature documentaries. Kids can be a lot more perceptive than people realize. Of course, they don’t quite have the filters us older folks have built up over the years.

She inches away from her mother, little hand slipping from the big one. Mom is too engrossed in her copy of Good Housekeeping to notice. I pretend to be interested in one of the People articles, but I notice the girl sliding closer. Her mother still hasn’t looked up by the time the daughter is at my side. I ignore her until she puts a hand on my knee.

“Are you…?” she begins in her childish warble.

Yes, I realize at this point that I could be a jerk and pretend I didn’t hear her, but I close and set aside the magazine so that I can turn to her. “Am I what, sweetheart?”

She leans closer to me, dropping the volume of her voice. “Her.”

I smile patiently. “There are a lot of ‘her’s out there, sweetie.”

She frowns, not impressed by my attempt at dissuading her. “You know. Starburst.”

Yup. Perceptive. If half the people of the city were as observant as this kid, I might just be out of a job. I’d certainly be out of a place to live. Goodbye, secret identity.

I’m not even sure where the name “Starburst” came from. The other members of the league tend to tease me about it, and quite a few of the males get suggestive about “licking and sucking” on me. Creeps me out. I wanted to be “Nova” at one point, or even “Super Nova,” but those names were taken, as I understand it, and I don’t want to be confused for anyone else.

“What makes you think I’m Starburst?” I continue on my ploy to deflect attention.

She gives me a half-hearted little lift of a shoulder shrug. “You look like her.”

“How would you know what she looks like? She wears a costume and a mask.”

“You can still tell,” she insists.

“Okay. Let’s assume for a moment that I am. Why would my being a superhero be important to you?”

Her little face lights up. “You’re so cool. You’re the coolest out of all the superheroes in the League. I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

I rest a hand on top of her head and smile at her. “Even if I were Starburst, and I’m not saying that I am, you’re going to need a meteor falling on you or some toxic waste dumped on you if you’re going to grow up to be just like me. Trust me, kid; you don’t want any of that.”

She scowls at me now. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to be brave and strong and do good in the world.”

I give a breathy laugh and ruffle her hair. “You don’t need superpowers for that.”

“I know,” she says with a pout.

Before either of us can say anything else, Mom looks up from her magazine and just now notices her daughter is no longer by her side. “Kristy!” she snaps. “Leave that poor woman alone!”

The girl, Kristy, looks up at me with a mixture of emotions in her eyes. She wants to stay and talk to me, now that she knows who I am, but her mother is the ultimate authority. She knows bad things will happen to her if she doesn’t obey.

I give her a smile, one I hope she understands as sympathy as I slide my hand from her head. Kristy turns to cross the distance back to her mother. Mom grabs her hand and holds her tight by her side. “What have I told you about speaking to strangers?!” she hisses, shaking Kristy’s hand. She looks up at me, tired and embarrassed. “I’m sorry about my daughter. I don’t know what possesses her sometimes.”

I wave it off. “It’s okay. No harm done.”

The nurse appears in the doorway back into the examination area and looks around. “Elizabeth?”

That’s my cue. I stand. “I’m here.” Before I go to follow her into the back, I turn to wink at Kristy, now huddled beside her mother in fear of getting trouble again. It’s a secret wink, just for her. It takes nanoseconds for her to realize what’s going on. When she does, I see it blooming on her face. She gives me a big, exaggerated wink back.

I smile as I head through the doorway. Sometimes, it’s okay to share a secret.