Hello again!
Today, I have yet another story for you guys to enjoy! This one's a bit long so it'll be posted to the blog in multiple parts! Happy reading!! 💫
Day 0.
Blake blinked awake from his position on the bed. Moonlight casted a streak of foggy blue light across his bedroom from the midnight sky. He turned his head towards the nightstand and eyed his headphones quietly. For a moment, he sat still listening to the sound of rapid movement in the distance. Just as quietly, he sat up, slid the covers off, and stepped out of bed.
On his way down the first flight of stairs, Blake paused at the open window in the hall, peered out towards the backyard, and closed it on his way. On the second floor, he turned around the bend, passed his parents' bedroom, and opened the door to his brother's room. His back faced him as he sputtered unintelligible words in between his snoring. Satisfied, Blake made his way to the first floor.
He walked through the dining room and kitchen towards the living room. There, he stepped around a few duffle bags on the floor and a fresh liquid stain on the carpet. The cup that lost it still on its side a foot away. The front door was agape.
A shadow crossed the doorway as he made his way closer. There, Blake's eyes eventually landed on his father's figure tousling through something in the trunk of the car. Standing near the rear of the car, partly blocked from view, his mother put a hand to his father’s back.
"Are you sure about this? Maybe we're wrong. We've been wrong before." She asked, her tone anxious and her movements hesitant, more careful. They were quiet, every word a whisper.
"We're not. Not this time. We have to. It's not safe."
"B-but maybe we wait until morning? Give the children some sense of normalcy..."
"There's no time for it. Maybe trying to do the "normal" thing was a mistake to begin with." His father frowned. Seemingly frustrated, he tossed a couple of nameless items out of the trunk. The drop to the grass softened the thud.
"Surely you aren't suggesting that this was a mis--"
"All I'm saying for sure is that we can't stay here. We have to leave. Tonight. If we lose our window, we could lose everything. It's not safe."
"--Y-yes. You're right. What about the house? Should I ask Claire?"
"She did say she could sell it if we ever wanted - there's a market for our house, or something like that. Call her tomorrow, first thing. Before we ditch the phones."
"I should clean the juice from the spill beforehand. Don't you think?" She asked, uncertain.
"We're leaving?" Blake asked from the doorway. His parents jumped, startled. His father stifled a curse as his head smacked noisely against the trunk door. Then his father walked to him, and kneeled, placing his hands on Blake's small shoulders.
"Hi. Did my super boy have trouble sleeping tonight?" He asked.
"It's not super boy, dad. And it was noisy." Blake frowned.
His father chuckled awkwardly. "Right. Sorry about that, kiddo." Blake shrugged as his mother slowly shooed his father to the side. She leaned slightly forward as she spoke with a small smile.
"Daddy just forgot for a moment, sweetheart. Things.. are complicated right now. Did you forget to wear the headphones to bed again?" She asked softly, her eyebrows upturned.
Blake nodded, opting for silence as he studied her expression. Ever so slightly, her smile was fading. Her fingers trembled against his arms. His stomach churned. What was happening?
"Mommy and daddy need a favor. You're right, we are leaving. And it's very important that you don't tell Ark anything you heard tonight. We don't want to scare him. This has to be our little secret, okay?"
Blake looked at his father who gave a stern nod of agreement. He didn’t totally understand what was happening. And he had questions, but he got the feeling that now wasn’t the time to ask them. He knew that even super heros kept secrets all the time. Like their true identities. Super Sound would probably need to be trusted with many of them in the future.
"Okay." Blake shrugged although he was still feeling uneasy. His parents sighed in unison. His father hurried off inside the house and grabbed two large suicases and the duffle bags Blake stepped around earlier. He quickly guided his mother in the house and passed the spill on the carpet. Directing her to leave it for Claire and go grab their most important things.
Blake, recalling his father's words and weighed down with a sense of urgency, quickly made his way back to his room, grabbed his backpack, and started collecting the things it would bother him to leave behind the most. He imagined that if he had the power, he would find a way to bend time and space. Just like Gyre did on TV. Then, they wouldn’t have to grab this thing or the next. They could take the entire house in his pocket.
Day 1.
Blake shifted in his seat as Ark-his six year old younger brother- obediently passed him the ziploc bag and a juice pouch at their father's direction. Ark's eyes said he was still half asleep and not entirely aware that anything was amiss. He often awoke to car rides since he slept so well. Not even the sound of shutting car doors and the engine starting woke him last night. Sometimes Blake wished they could trade places for a good night's rest. Only, he wasn't sure what kind of things his younger brother would do in his body. If he was lucky, maybe he'd just use it as an opportunity to play with all his toys.
Their father pulled the car into an old parking lot. To their left sat an dusty, cracked building. The sun was high in the sky but the large empty space combined with the dropping temperature and silence around them made the place look even more abandoned.
His father climbed out of the car and walked to the other side to assist their mom. They were told to "sit tight" until they returned. Ark didn't seem to mind. His attention solely focused on crunching away cheese flavored chips while kicking off his shoes.
Blake listened to his parents shuffle through the trunk, shut it, and walked hand-in-hand towards the building. He recognized his mother's engraved jewlery box as she paused. Just barely, Blake made out several of his father's watches and a large green jeweled ring. He always liked that one, since it was his favorite color, but he remembered his mother saying that the ring has been passed down to all the women in her family and she'd hoped to pass it along too, some day.
What were they doing with them? Was this a hiding place? Did people do that? Hide jewlery in busted up buildings the day after they leave their home in the middle of the night?
As they neared the door, a tall, thin man with beady eyes popped his head out. He looked around, eyed their car from the distance, and then opened the door for their parents to step inside. They returned several minutes later. Both of their faces sullen as they got back into the car. Blake noticed his father tuck a rectangular yellow envelope in his pocket. As the car left the lot, his mother began to cry.
As they increased the distance between them and the beady eyed man's shelter, their mother's crying worsened. Before long, their father quickly turned the car around. He sped back down the road, parked without care in the empty lot, and before he could knock, the man reappeared in the doorway to silently lead him back inside.
Soon, his father returned to the car, looking equal parts aggitated and defeated. He locked eyes with his wife, pulled out the green ring that had been in her jewelry box, and gently placed it in her hands. Twice as many tears streamed down her face during their silent exchange.
With the ring in her hands and the car back on the road, Blake watched as their mother pressed it to her face and cried again, harder and more noisily than before. Ark asked what was wrong and began to cry too, before he'd even given their parents any chance to explain.
Blake didn’t know why but the moment his father started to apologize to them in a broken voice, he became overwhelmed with emotion. And in the same moment he came to realize that they'd really just left everything behind. They were never going back. He marinated in that bitter feeling. Until, for some reason words didn't exist to describe, the entire family cried together. In such an emotional frenzy that they had to stop on the side of the road.
Day 30.
Blake watched the line of trees fall behind, tucked a safe distance away from their path, one after the other, as the car sped forward over another nameless road. Their low lights broke the fog ahead of them as the sun tempted them with its presence. He peeked in the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting his father's upturned gaze. When he smiled, Blake gave him one in return- his father looked tired. Almost too tired to be driving.
Blake turned his head more to catch a glimpse of his mother, even though he could hear her light snoring from the backseat. Her head bent slightly with her forehead pressed to the glass. Both her arms crossed over her bulging belly. Meanwhile, Ark, mumbled to himself noisly from the other side of the back seat. Still talking to himself, he dragged his finger around, writing his name on the cold, foggy window.
As he watched him working away, it occured to Blake that Ark would be like him soon. He would be a big brother. Their baby sister was in their mother's stomach, getting ready for the rest of the world. Would Ark mind not being the youngest anymore?
When Ark eventually noticed the attention, he quickly motioned to his work on the glass. Prompting Blake to read his name and gaze at some drawing he couldn’t begin to make sense of. Warmth lines already dripped through his finger drawing, making it look even more confusing the longer he looked at it. A part of him wanted to ask what it was, but he also didn’t feel like starting a conversation with him rather than leave him to his own devices. So, he said "That’s cool Ark. Why don’t you do a new one?" Hoping it would occupy him. It didn’t. Instead, Ark reached into their bag and grabbed a toy--Blake's custom superhero action figure.
Their parents bought it for him two birthdays ago. It was modeled after Blake, with matching curly dark hair. He was even wearing his 'Super Sound' outfit. His long earthy green cape with the large white double S in the middle mirrored the one tucked safely away in his bookbag now. Super Sound's miniture was his favorite gift. And although Ark knew Blake hated when he played with it, he did so anyway.
Blake frowned as he eyed his brother, "You better not break him," he threatened. Ark nodded his head but immediately smacked the figure against the glass with a hard clank. Blake tried not to be angry. He tried to be a good older brother but, truthfully, Ark annoyed him more often than not. He was always touching his things or complaining of boredom. An annoyance that only increased since they left home.
Day 45.
"Momma can I have a snack?" Ark pleaded, for the third time in the last hour.
"No, Ark. We don't have any more snacks." She sighed, looking in their father's direction.
"But I'm hungry." Ark whined, his eyes filling with tears. Blake frowned at his sandwich they'd given him earlier. The same one that Ark finished a few hours before. His stomach rumbled. Yesterday and the day before a sandwich had also been all they had.
"Here, Ark." Blake offered most of his sandwich. Surprisingly, he hesitated to take it. "Here." Blake said, slightly shaking the sandwich in his direction. "We can share. You eat the big one since you're little."
"You're little." He frowned.
"But you're littler. Don't worry, I'm fine. Super heros are naturally stronger." Blake gestured with his left arm, trying to show off a muscle as he spoke. Ark finally took the sandwich with a small smile.
"What a wonderful big brother." His mother complimented softly as she looked over her shoulder at them. Though there was something more beyond her smile Blake couldn’t understand, he didn't ask. Instead he thanked her politely as he took a bit of what was left of his sandwich.
"Super boy's going to be the toughest super on the planet." His father chimed in.
"It's Super Sound, honey." Their mother emphasized, before Blake could correct him.
"R-right. I knew that." He laughed. "Good 'ol Super Sound." He stuttered.
Their mother shook her head disapprovingly. "You stop at the very next gas station you can find."
"You have to go already?" He chuckled. "You just went an hour ago."
"Well, I'm pregnant. I'll let you know when your daughter stops bumping my bladder and I can finally stop having to pee every hour." She huffed. "And you make sure to buy Super Sound and his companion a snack while we're there."
His father gave her an anxious glance, but nodded. "Yes ma'am. Guess I walked right into that one, huh?"
"You should know the name by now. How many years has it been?" She asked, rolling her eyes.
Day 52.
Blake shifted awake in the back seat and pulled his headphones down around his neck. Ark's foot nudged his thigh as he slept. His light, breathy snores escaping his mouth as he smacked his lips. The rest of his body was twisted in an odd position up the length of the seat and his right arm hung off the side. Leaving his head slightly angled against the door on his pillow. His comforter had been kicked to the floor.
The sun had already set. The car parked behind the broken shell of a building he didn't recognize. Looking out the window, Blake could just make out the silhouettes of their parents further cloaked in the dark by the shade of a tree. The wind whistled and faded to a pause as he watched quietly.
"But what about the money from the jewlery?"
"Eliza, it's gone. The gas ate that up the first month alone, plus all the extra stops. And that little beady-eyed fuck from the pawn shop wanted 30% more to get the ring back. He called it a 'convenience fee' or some other bullshit. Probably decided that when he realized how much it was worth and we wanted it back." He let out a frustrated sigh.
"And we were more frugal when we realized the salvagables from the house were running low, too. Should we get some money from one of the accounts then?"
"What happened with Claire? Did you call her again at the last stop? I'd rather not touch those cards unless we're ready to take everything like we initially planned. And we'll have to backtrack some just to do that."
"She said it was taking a little longer than intended, but the updates are done and she sold some of the furniture. She asked us to give her more time. There are a few potential buyers lined up already, if that helps. Though I suppose it doesn't now."
"Fuck." He spoke through gritted teeth. "This is my fault. I was supposed to make sure we had a cash stash in the house." He cursed again and struck the side of his fist against the tree. "I'm sorry."
"You're the forgetful type, honey. I knew what I was getting into when we got married. Besides, I was so comfortable with our life after the initial worry wore off, I didn't think to mention it. Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm sure I thought we were overthinking things. That 'we probably didn't need money stashed away in some corner of the house.' "Now that we know it's both of our faults, we have to do something. The money is there. Let's take enough to get us as far as we've already gotten. Then we can just go to a location elsewhere and withdraw everything when the house sells." She said, pressing a hand to his chest as she spoke. "Unless you have a better idea?"
"Unfortunately, I don't. It's the only thing we can do aside from getting temporary work. But that would force us to sit still too long. We're not nearly as far from the home as I'd like is to be. Maybe we shouldn't have spent so many days giving in to Ark's whims." He sighed, rubbing his temples.
"No, we did the right thing. Blake says he asked where we were going and he told him our family was going on an 'adventure.' It's better to be convincing. When he is having fun and we visit attractions, it's more believable-- I'm sure he was much too young to rememberthe last time we were running, thankfully. I'm not sure about Blake."
"Blake's a slick one, for a 10 year old. We've got a good one, huh?" He laughed.
"I'd say so. But he's much too young to be keeping his parents' secrets." Their mother sighed sadly.
Their father shook his head. "Eliza, if this goes wrong-"
He leaned forward and kissed her. Then pulled her into a gentle embrace. "I love you too." He said, rubbing his hands along her arms. "It's chilly. Let's get back to the boys."
Blake looked back towards Ark sleeping unbothered in a similarly strange position as their parents headed back in their direction. He straightened Ark's head, grabbed the comforter from the floor and tucked it around him. Quietly, he slid his headphones back up his neck and over his ears, and leaned his head against the window. As his mother and father's shadows neared the car, he slowly shut his eyes again.
Day 54.
"W-wait! Gabriel! Slow down!" Their mother shrieked, clutching her seatbelt as the wheels of the car screeched against the road. "What's going on??!"
Blake's body pressed hard against the backrest, his neck stiff. Ark, blissfully unaware of the danger, shouted excitedly, throwing his hands above his head with a laugh. "Like a rollercoaster!"
Blake wondered if he had been that dumb when he was 6. He'd seen it many times in the comics and on tv. Even the news confirmed it. If they crashed now, their car would end up flipping endlessly into a ditch. One of them-or all of them- would be tragically wounded.
The world would have to say goodbye to Super Sound, forever. There wouldn't even be a raining funeral scene for all the citizens he saved to cry over his tombstone. Afterall, except for Aunt Claire, no one knew they'd picked up and left. That, and Super Sound hadn't really saved anyone yet.
How long until they crashed?
"Gabriel!" His mother screamed again, looking as if she would've whacked him if she wasn’t busy almost having a heart attack. His father constantly checked the rearview mirror, beads of sweat forming against his eyebrow. He glanced toward their mother and smacked a hand hard against the steering wheel. Blake expected that to end them. It didn't.
"We have to get further. To somewhere else, quick." He shook his head again. "I couldn’t get the money." His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Hold on tight!" A series of angry horns blared at them as his father cut through a road on the left and zig zagged around them. With every reckless move, Blake was sure his heart was one step closer to stopping for good.
"What do you mean you couldn't get it? What happened? Will you slow down?!" His mother cried, placing a hand against the window to steady herself as the car made a sharp turn. Blake's body slid toward his brother, saved from crashing into him by his seatbelt.
"I mean, I couldn't get the damn money!" He spat. "Someone's been messing around with our accounts. I checked them all. Not a cent in any of them!" He shouted. "I made a fraud claim. The banks say it will take some time to investigate. They canceled the cards. All I could get was a few measly hundred off the credit card. Then, I canceled it."
"That can't be..how could they even..?" His mother questioned, a horrified expression on her face. Who were these mystery people?
"I'll slow down when we get far enough away. What if we were followed? We've got to get somewhere safe. They'll know we came to the bank."
Blake's heart pounded painfully in his chest. Who would know? Where would they go that was safe? As he gave room for internalized panic, he looked over at his brother. Noticing that he had fallen suspiciously quiet for a kid enjoying a car ride of impending doom.
Ark's face was pale, save for some darkening spots on his cheeks. His eyelids dropped low and he began to heave. Each sounding more moist than the last. Oh, no. Blake pressed his body in the opposite direction. "I think Ark's gonna hurl!" Blake warned.
Moments later, vomit spewed out of his mouth, down the length of his clothes, and across the back of the passenger seat. The smell already began to sting Blake's nose when the car finally jerked to a stop near the side of the road. Maybe it would be enough to keep his father from driving like a madman again.
Day 76.
The sound of their parents' harsh whispers buried the crackling of the fire. The light fluttered across the two of them as they spoke, motioning with their hands. A couple of birds rushed out of a tree an unknown distance away, shaking loose a handful of dying leaves. Blake watched small sparks flicker above the flame.
He stayed still on the ground, wrapped up in his blanket and resting his head on a pillow from the car. Blake watched as Ark turned uncomfortably in his sleep nearby. Yesterday, Ark asked when they would be going home. He complained about missing his friends, wanting to play in the yard or watch tv, and wishing he could sleep in his own bed again.
After their scare in the car, they'd made their way to a dense forest that took five days to drive to. Not counting the one they spent cleaning Ark's puke up from the car, or the extra one they waited while it aired out. When they'd gotten there, Ark had been excited. It was his first time 'camping' and he ran around until exhaustion. Blake remembered that he took some interest in the occasional animal quickly brushing past a short distance away. And equally so the insects' variety of noises towards the night.
Blake didn’t mind it. He felt it was the perfect place to train. Although his parents didn’t let them venture nearly as far as he liked. After several days and a countless number of mosquito bites, however, Ark was no longer fascinated with the place. In his eyes, the entire forest lost it's luster.
Since then, Ark often took his frustrations out on the prikly branches that stabbed him through his covers. Blake did find the insects annoying to deal with, but he didn't share the rest of his brother's reservations. It had been a long time since he could do as he pleased. Not to mention, now he could listen to the sounds of life in the forest when he couldn't sleep. They'd been there for two weeks now, according to their parents' current hushed argument on the other side of the flames.
"We can't stay like this!" Their mother shook her head. "The water is gone, the kids are exhausted. Ark is bored out of his mind, and rightfully so. We can't play I-spy and hide-n-seek forever. You're sluggish. I'm sore everywhere. The baby is unhappy, and we're starving!"
"I've hardly been able to catch anything out here." Their father sighed heavily, in partial agreeance. "Not that anything has been particularly tasty out here."
"That's because you haven’t hunted game since you were eight, Gabriel!" She snorted, throwing her hands in the air. "There's also nothing to season the food with and last time you left half the bones in and nearly killed us all."
"Shhh." Their father fussed, grabbing hold of her hands. "You'll wake the children." He turned his head in their direction and Blake slowly turned his back to face them. He knew his face was just far enough in shadow to be hidden from fire light.
"Gabriel, if I piss down my legs one more time because I can't squat without toppling over into my own bodily fluids with this belly and you have to pick me up, not to mention pluck the thorns out of my ass again, you're gonna have to build me a bathroom in this Godforsaken forest." She crossed her arms over her belly with a scowl.
"Your ass still looks hot with the thorns." He teased through a laugh. Blake could hear his mother's effort not to laugh along side him. "I'm just saying," he continued, "if bigfoot saw it, we'd be fighting for our lives."
"As if to say we aren't already?" She asked sarcastically.
Thwack! Thwack! Blake could hear the quick swipes of air from the stick as each strike made contact with some part of his father's body.
"Oww!" Thwack. "Oww!" Thwack. "Oww! Okay!" Thwack! "We will discuss it in the mor~ning! Thwack! "Ouch!!"
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
"Eliza!" He shouted as his feet swished clumisly through the leaves. Thwack! "God damn it!!"
His mother's laughter pleased his ears. Blake turned back around to face them. He watched his father snatch the stick from his mother's hands, break it and discard the pieces. He pretended to dive at her, wrapped his arms underneath her belly and smothered her with kisses. Blake grinned from his spot on the floor and watched their smiles illuminate under the orange warm glow of the fire.
Hours later, his father dozed off. Clearly intent on keeping watch, but obviously too exhausted to see it through. Blake dragged his cover over him, leaned against his father's arm, and inspected his sleeping face. They say important men age the fastest. That life just seemed to suck the youth out of them. Blake was sure his father was an important man too. He was relieved that his face was the same as he remembered.
He shifted against him slightly, straighted his back, and listened to the sound of the forest as he waited for daybreak.
Day 77.
The morning after, their mother refused to get up from her blankets. She spoke very little and expressed having no appetite for their leftovers. She didn't respond to their father's jokes nor did she answer when he asked if she wanted to go into town.
When his father decided he would make a trip instead, Ark stayed with her, tossing random bits into the flames. Blake followed their father through the trees where they would eventually find their car. Hidden away under a dark tarp, branches, and leaves.
He accompanied him for half the day's drive to a small convenience store off a beaten path. Inside, while his father went off to the restroom, the clerk behind the counter hunched over a radio. He was an obese man whose shirt looked two sizes too small. His hair line was receeding and Blake could clearly see his breath fogging his lenses. An intense expression clouded his face as he listened to a man with an accent describe scores from a sportsgame. He never once stirred at the sound of their footsteps.
Blake winded his way through the isles, near the toiletries, then angled his neck to check the clerk. His back was still turned towards him as Blake opened a pack of diapers and grabbed a few. Then reached in and grabbed a few more. He scanned the shelves again, paused at the sight of a familar item, and then tucked them in his coat next to the diapers.
"Come on, come on, come on!" The clerk shouted towards the radio, startling him. Recovering from his momentary fright, Blake sighed. He went closer to the counter and swiped a choco bar for Ark--his favorite snack. He knew that stealing was bad, but super heros usually became well-known and exceedingly rich. Blake figured he could pay it all back then. So, it was less stealing and more of an I.O.U.
When his father met him near the counter a few minutes later, he said he was going have a look around. "Stay put," he motioned, before he disappeared a few aisles over. When his father returned to view, he carried prepackaged sandwiches, bottled water and fruit cups in his arms. He placed the items down. The clerk mumbled on without turning to face them. Blake and his father shared a glance then shrugged with a smile and continued to wait.
The accent on the other end of the radio spluttered on, to the point that Blake was almost certain the man was no longer speaking the same language. Suddenly, the voice fell silent. A soft crackling sound became the only indication that the device was still connected to its station. The radio box audibly shook between the clerk's large fingers. He, too, seemed to be waiting for something.
A pitch cut the silence, bringing back the accent. With it, resounding cheers coincided with the man's passion. "GOAL!!"
The clerk, delighted at the news, shouted out in excitement. "Whoo!!" He celebrated, spinning on his heels with the radio still in hand. "Yeah baby!"
"Well, they've done it folks! Who Knows? If they keep this up, next year is--!" The voice quickly faded as the cord plucked from the outlet; a consequence of the clerk's little dance. The man laughed awkwardly as he looked their way, suddenly now aware of their presence.
"Did you get rich?" His father asked, amused. How unusual. His father normally avoided all unnecessary conversation with strangers since the moment they'd left home.
The clerk slid the radio to the side as he caught his breath. Sending it crashing to the floor. Blake tried not to frown as he listened to the man slide it across the floor with his foot."From my cousins? Damn straight!" He quickly glanced down in Blake's direction and slightly motioned with his hand. "Pardon my French."
His father dismissed it with a wave of his hand and placed a few bills on the countertop. "He's heard worse."
"Now if you meant money from the rest of this shithole world?" The man continued on with a nod, "I wish."
"My cousin still owes me 40 bucks." His father let out an airy chuckle as the man rang up the food and drink. "I hope you get your money."
"I'll have to pry it from their cold, dead hands!" He cackled. "I bet on a bunch of losers, 'cording to them. I'm good with it, because now who're the losers. Right?? I'm sure they toppled over the moment that last goal was called! That be all for ya?"
His father tapped his chin then raised his brow with a smirk. "Actually.. I think not."The clerk eyed him curiously as he went to a standing fridge in the back, pulled out a couple of cans, then made his way back to the counter. "That ought to do it."
Blake was curious but stayed silent as the register beeped and a new total flashed on the small rectangular screen. His father removed one of the cold cans he had grabbed a moment before and left it on the counter with his change. "For you," he said, "to celebrate your win. And a few dollars for good luck. You know, money attracts money my friend."
"Oh wow. Thanks man! 'preciate it." The clerk beamed as he reached behind the counter and offered a handful of fruit candy to Blake. "At least take some sweets for the boy, yeah?"
"Thanks. Do me a favor and keep my secret? I promised the wife I'd slow down on the beer. She's on some kind of health craze. We've hardly eaten anything lately and we have family in the area who are a little too supportive in that department. They'd give the 3rd degree and tell her in a heartbeat."
Blake blinked away his confusion. What was that about their health? His father was lying. He hadn't promised their mother not to drink anything. Although it was true they hardly had anything to eat lately.
The man laughed, soaking up his father's lies like a dry sponge. "Whew. You got it. I don't envy you, man. My lips are sealed. I never met you or the boy. In fact, the store has been empty all day if anyone asks."
A minute later, the two of them walked out of the store. As they closed the distance between them and the car, his father reached in the bag, popped open the other beer, poured it out near a bush and then tossed the empty can in the trash. Blake didn’t like the smell, but he was surprised to see him waste it. Not that he had ever seen his father drink beer before.
"You don’t want it?" Blake asked, too intrigued not to. "Do you like sports? You talked to that man with the radio."
His father winked at him as they got in the car. "I've never cared much for alcohol. It's a waste of time. The stuff, much like drugs, only buries your life, Super." He checked Blake's seatbelt before fastening his own. "As for the small-talk, that was for safety."
"Safety?"
He put the car in drive and turned back onto the road, taking them back the way they'd came. "Talking to people can do a lot of things. It can give you information about people and how they are feeling. You can use conversation to make friends, or use it to bring you closer to someone during stressful times. Like when me and your mother are a little upset and need to fix our problems. We talk those problems out. It can can even buy you time in an uncertain or dangerous situation."
"What's 'buying time' mean?"
"Hmm. It is an expression but not literal. You can't go and pick up extra seconds, minutes, hours or days from the store with money, of course. Although it would be a very lucrative business, I bet. Anyway. It means to stall someone. "To distract them--do you remember that day Ark tried to give you his sheep because he broke your samurai? He felt guilty and it was in itself probably an innocent gesture coming from your brother, but he tried to give you his stuffed animal so you wouldn’t notice he broke one of your favorite toys? That's a distraction. He likely hoped you would pay attention to that for a while. That's the stall, the buying time. To give yourself time to do something, or avoid a thing altogether."
Blake realized he'd done something like that already. The day Ark wrote his name on the foggy window. Only, he wasn't doing it to make him feel better. He just didn't want Ark to bother him and then whine like he always did once he was unhappy. So, there had been an expression for that. Either way, Ark would be anything but unhappy once he gave him the choco bar tucked away in his coat now. "Then, you were 'buying time' in the store?"
"Nope. Conversation is also good for getting people to lower their guards so you can get something you want from them." His father shrugged. "I wanted something, so I started a conversation where I knew there was an opening."
"The villian in Captain Bubbles did something like that once. He made him talk about his favorite cat, soap. It died in the last comic and Captain Bubbles was so sad. But he was happy to talk to someone else about it, too. Even though it was just the bad guy. "He thought Spike cared about him and they could be friends since both their pets died. But was all a trick. Spike lied. He had said they could be friends, but he was just tricking Captain Bubbles so he could have his minions rob the town."
"Yep. That would be an accurate example. So, what happened to Bubbles?" His father asked as he turned off the marked path ahead of them. They couldn't get to the forest by following the road.
"Oh. Spike popped Captain Bubbles and he died." Blake shook his head.
His father's eyes widened. "No way. Spike popped Bubbles? What in the--"
"Yep. Then Spout, his friend that is kind of like his sidekick, scraped some of him up and used it to make him again in a bubble batch."
"--and what? You're saying Bubbles' friend got DNA from his bubble guts, mixed it with some kind of soap, then blew it into a new Mr. Bubbles?"
"Uh-huh." Blake nodded. That was pretty much it, yeah. "But it's not Mr. Bubbles. His name is Captain Bubbles."
"We've got to start reading those comics before we buy them for you. Who murders a bubble? The whole thing just sounds off." His father scruntched his nose. "Anyway. In our case, I didn't want to rob a bank. I just needed his silence. But I had to lie to do it. Which I'm not proud of. I don't have the slightest interest in gambling on anything, sports, or drinking. "Lying is an ugly habit to develop. It can be as deadly as any knife, liquor or drug. Addictive, too. And you have to keep telling them to cover the first one you told."
They turned around a bend, gravel kicking up from the tires as they went. "It didn't feel good to tell Ark that we were having a vacation, right?"
"Yeah." Blake nodded. He'd never lied to anyone before. Sometimes, when he thought about the fact that his brother didn’t know anything, he had a hard time looking at him. Or playing their games in the back of the car. If lying felt like that, he didn’t want to do it again.
"We didn’t want you to have to do that. It wasn’t nice to ask you to keep it a secret from your brother, but we will tell him everything soon. I promise." His father spoke softly. There was pain in his voice as he lightly squeezed Blake's knee in the passenger seat. "That uncomfortable feeling you get when you lie? You need that. Some people lack it. Remember this: a good liar is a dangerous man. He is a kind that has stopped feeling that guilt. Or, some unfortunate soul who never felt it from the beginning."
...
Back in the woods by sunset, their father fed the fire and passed out their food and water. Their mother took uninterested bites of her sandwich, hardly eating half. Their father pleaded with her to at least finish the water. She nodded, compliant, and he unscrewed the top and watched her drink. Blake, thinking she was unhappy, thought it no better a time to show her what he'd snatched up at the store. He pulled six diapers and the choco bar from his coat with a proud smirk.
Ark's eyes lit up as he rushed to grab the chocolatey goodness from Blake's hand, celebrating long before he took his first bite. Their mother's eyes shimmered with tears as explained where he got the gifts for their baby sister. She let out a broken sob, muffled by the palms of her hands. Their father cursed, dumbfounded. "What the hell, Blake. When did you get that stuff?"
"While you were in the bathroom. I saw those white things in the package mom used to buy too. So she can use them when she pees." Blake replied in an even tone, pulling the last of the items from his clothes. "Super heros are rich." He went on. "When I'm rich we can pay for them then, since we don’t have money right now." Blake stated, matter-of-factly.
"Can I be rich, too?" Ark asked inbetween bites of his choco bar.
"Of course, Ark. If one of us is rich then all of us are rich." Blake shrugged.
"Money can buy a lot of choco bars." Ark whispered in a dreamy voice. He was so happy with his snack that he didn't even seem frustrated when he swatted a misquito from his leg. Blake new the choco bar was a good idea. His little brother was obsessed.
Their mother continued to sob from underneath her blankets. Blake tried to assess the situation but he didn't know why she was crying. Nor could he read the expression on their father's face. It was one he'd never seen before.
"My God, Blake. We had that entire conversation about Spike killing Bubbles to rob the bank and you didn't think to tell me that you'd robbed the convenience store??"
He considered their father's words, not totally understanding the point. Was their conversation in the car supposed to make him talk about that?
Day 82.
Three days ago, Blake and Ark anxiously followed their father to the car and helped shake off the tarp and toss the leaves aside before they raced back again. They watched as he snuffed out the flames of their forest fire, haphazardly stuffed the trunk with their used possessions, picked up their mother, and rushed her to the car. He didn't take the time to fold the tarp either before he chucked it in the back with the rest and slammed the trunk closed.
He slid their mother in the car carefully, ensured they were buckled in, then sped away from the trees. They passed the convenience store where they'd last seen the dancing clerk with the radio. Soon enough, the car took them through an almost empty town and on to the next. All the while, his father hardly said a word to them, leaving them to an uncomfortable ride in their own misery and confusion. Every shred of his attention split between the road and holding their mother's hand. Sometimes, he cursed under his breath or mumbled words from the signs to himself as he drove past them.
When they arrived at a place called Beckham's Motel, where Ark was now excitedly rushing through the doors ahead of them, his father left their mother in the car. He quickly paid for a room and waited until they were back out of the office doors to complain about the rate per night. "70 dollars a night for a damn dump." He graoned. "What even is this economy? What motel in the history of motels could charge 70 fucking dollars a night? They don't even do continental breakfasts. This is the very definition of highway robbery, but there's not much choice."
"Daddy, they have choco bars in the machine! Can you buy it?" Ark begged, tugging on his sleeve and pointing erratically towards a corner down a ramp, covered with a shade. But their father didn't look towards the vending machine. He simply ushered them forward, up metal stairs, and towards a door marked 27. "Not now. Maybe later," he mumbled, long after they'd passed the machine by.
After carrying their bags and suitcases into a room, their father sent Ark to watch tv as he kneeled at the door in front of Blake. "Listen, kiddo. I need you to be very careful. I have a key. I will call and request that they keep the cleaning service out the room. Do not let anyone inside this room, no matter what they say. Got it? You'll have to keep your brother occupied, but you can do it. "You know how the bad guys in your comic books lurk in the shadow? It's sorta like that for us right now. And they can look like almost anyone. If a little old lady falls down the stairs you don't go looking, even if you're worried."
Blake nodded. His heart thumped away in his chest. He hoped there wouldn't be any old women taking a fall down the motel steps any time soon. "There are bad people after us, right? That's why we left and then lived in the forest. They took all our money." His father's head drooped heavily. "Will Momma be okay?"
His father tried to smile. "The doctors at the hospital will make sure of that."
"The villians look in the hospitals too."
"Why do you say that?" Their father asked, looking cautious. Maybe he was really listening.
"They went to find Gyre's father there when he was sick." Blake's lip quivered. More specifically, Gyre's father was kidnapped right from his hospital bed. And they couldn't find him for three whole years. The thought of his parents disappearing like that frightened him to no end. He didn't think Super Sound would be able to save them from a motel room.
Their father wrapped his arms around him tightly and kissed his cheek. "You've got this, Super. Assume the bad guys are everywhere, just like I said. Mom and I will come back here for you. I'm going to take her straight to the hospital, then I'll drop off some food and drinks here for you and your brother. Then, I need to go right back and be with mom, so take care of Ark for me. I'll leave some emergency money with you too. Don't use it unless you absolutely have to. Can you do that for me?"
Blake nodded weakly as their father stuffed a few bills into his pocket. Then he told Ark to stay put until they returned. "Listen to Blake and be a good boy." He kissed his forhead and hugged him tight. All too quickly he told them he loved them and shut the door closed behind him as he went. Blake wondered if his father felt the same painful thumps in his chest as he closed the door. What was happening to their mom?
An hour later, his father brought bags into the room, told them to hop in the shower, and left again. This time, with more kisses than the last. It was even harder that time to see him go. When he did, the motel room felt unbelievably empty.
Ark spent the rest of the night flicking through channels on the remote and happily kicking his feet until he fell asleep. Blake sat on the bed on the far side of the room and crossed his legs. He silently placed his headphones beside him and waited anxiously for another sunrise.
Day 83.
The next morning, their parents still hadn't returned. The two of them drank juice and shared some of a pizza his father brought for them the evening before. Tired with legs that felt like tv static, Blake told Ark that he would take a shower and left him to mindlessly flick through channels on the tv again. He'd turned the television up too loud, but Blake decided to deal with the noise until he was finished. He knew how excited his brother was to sleep in a bed and watch cartoons. After all, he complained about it often. Though it would do nothing for the part of Ark missing his friends.
As Blake sluggishly stepped into the water, eyes heavy, he thought back to their typical morning at home. Their father usually made breakfast and let their mother sleep in. Then she came to sit at the table with them as soon as food touched the plates. Almost like clockwork. The boys brushed their teeth then sat at the table and munched away to the white noise of their parents' chatter. How long had it been since they'd had a full breakfast at the table?
He also thought about the four of them walking hand in hand, even though he hated holding Ark's most days. He was roudy in the morning, usually trying to show him the same things they'd seen every single day as if there was anything new to see. Even though this was the same boy who'd somehow grown tired of the forest so fast. Now, Blake wanted to walk that same path to school. He wanted to hold his hand, see his brother off, and then say a cheery goodbye to his parents for the day. He also wanted to see his friends Jemma and Riley.
The two of them were quiet, which he liked. They spent a great deal of their time together in comfortable silence more than they ever spoke, but he liked it that way. They found ways to includ him in conversation and games, and discussed their favorite heros often.
Blake wondered what they were doing that very second. Was it a school day? He didn't remember what day of the week it was now. Were they worried about him? What did they think happened to him when he didn't show up for school? Would they miss him too, when he never saw them again?
As he walked out of the shower and back into the rest of the motel room, Blake's heart stopped. The door stood ajar. He could just make out the sound of his brother's voice in the distance. Blake struggled to pull his pants up over his dripping legs. Shoeless and with his shirt hardly to the nape of his neck, he rushed out the door and followed the sound of Ark's laughter. Ever so vaguely aware of a pair of footsteps going off in another direction as he stumbled noisily down the staircase and towards the front of the motel.
As he ran on, he eyed his brother walking back up the ramp from the vending machine area. Having sighted him, Ark quickly waved his arms in the air. When Blake stopped in front of him, he proudly displayed two choco bars.
Before Ark could open his mouth to speak, Blake grabbed hold of his wrist and steered him roughly toward the stairs and up to the room. He blatantly ignored every grumble of protest and threat of tears. Back in inside, he slammed the door shut behind them and shoved Ark towards the first bed.
"Where were you?? You know you aren't supposed to leave the room!" Blake shouted.
"I thought I saw daddy. Daddy said maybe next time, Blake. It wasn't daddy. A man bought it." Ark tried to explain. "There's one for you too." He said, and held out a choco bar in front of him with an unsteady arm.
Blake angrily slapped it away. "I don’t want a stupid choco bar!" He fumed, still out of breath. His words didn't help calm him. He was so angry he could hardly contain it. What if a villian caught him? His emotions blazed through his oxygen. Scortched his insides until red blotches painted his vision. "You NEVER listen!!"
Ark cowarded away from him with his hands cupped over his ears, and tripped over the pizza box on the floor. Blake watched him shake, possibly from fear or sadness, as he began to cry. "I'm sorry." He weeped as he climbed sloppily onto the bed.
Blake groaned and gripped his face as a pain spread through his head. His brother cried himself to sleep without so much as a single bite of his choco bar. And as he watched him snore with a pained expression weighing down his features, Blake struggled with his guilt.
He realized that while Ark hadn't made a smart decision, he hadn't been as angry with his brother as he was with himself. He hadn't even heard him leave the room. He should have stopped him before he ever made it out the door. He couldn't help his parents in the hospital, but his brother that shared the same room in the motel? That was his responsibility. He promised their father. If Super Sound made these kinds of mistakes, it was only proof that he wasn't fit to protect anyone.
Blake eventually retrieved the broken chocolate bar he'd flung across the room. Then he took off his brother's shoes, tucked him in, and laid down on the bed beside him. "I'm sorry." He whispered as he kissed his cheek. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. It's my fault. Thank you for sharing your favorite candy with me."
As if he'd managed to hear his apology, Ark's expression fell neutral and he turned over and snuggled close to him. Blake knew he probably had to say those words again in the morning, but for now his reaction comforted him anyhow. His head still hurt and his eyes felt twice as heavy, but he managed to stay awake the whole night. It helped that he was too busy worrying. Scared that his failure would force them to the villians' hands.
Day 84.
In the morning, Ark was back to his usual self. For that, Blake was relieved yet exhausted. He watched him scribble drawings on a notepad and pen that had been tucked in a drawer in the room. How long until their parents returned?
Hours ticked by as he sat in Ark's bed, eyeing the window through the blinds and focusing on sounds from the other side of the door. A couple argued from a room off-center on the floor below. Cars drove noisly down the road. He even heard the squeeky wheel of the cleaning lady's cart when Ark asked him to play.
Blake shook his head, telling him he was training his ears. Ark pouted but eventually turned his attention on the television and munched on his choco bar from the day before. The heaviness of sleep chased Blake relentlessly over the next hour. And by the time he realized he was drifting off, there was nothing he could do. Even heros need sleep, he thought drowsily.
Not long after, Blake's eyes shot open. He darted his sleepy gaze across the room and towards the door as his ears registered a metalic clink. To his displeasure, Ark had undone the lock on the door and turned the knob. A slither of a man's form appeared in the doorway as his brother's face lit up like a Christmas tree.
Blake leaped off the bed in a panic, pushed his brother out of the way, and grabbed hold of the doorknob. Ark protested, confused and defiant. The man, he'd said, brought them more choco bars.
The same one from the vending machine? But how did he know which room they were in? Had Ark told him?
Blake turned up his nose as the man leaned against his knees. "So there really were two of you! I thought your brother might have swindled me out of extra chocolate yesterday." The man grinned.
Blake couldn't see his eyes through his sunglasses, but he caught just a peek of his silver bangs from the crack in the door. On his arm, a bag swayed with his movements. He could just see make out the tops of water bottles and a corner of a choco bar. There were more items, but he couldn't place them without stepping out the door and he wasn't going to do that.
"What do you want?" Blake asked distrustfully.
"Are your parents home?" The man asked. Before Ark could speak, Blake glared in his direction and shook his head. He whined noisily but found silence. "I thought you might want a little more than a choco bar this time around. There's some here for you, but all that sugar by itself just isn't so healthy. You know how the saying goes, right? An apple a day? So there's some better goodies here too." He laughed. "My name is Jake. What's yours little guy?"
Blake had heard enough. "We don't want that." He answered callously, quickly shutting the door. Only, it never caught the latch bolt. Warm sweat formed in the creases of his fingers.
"Ouch. Well aren't you cold?" The man laughed bitterly from the other side of the door. Blake looked down to see the man's foot in the way. His heart thumped as a arctic chill raced down his spine. Reactive, he stomped his heel against the man's foot.
"You bold little shit!" The man shouted, retracting his foot.
When his hand caught the doorway instead, a second later, Blake slammed the door against his fingers as hard as he could through his anger and panic. "AUGH!!" The man wailed out in pain and recoiled as he clutched his hand. "Shit. Shit. Shit! You motherfucker!!" He continued from the other side of the door.
Blake turned the lock back into place. He looked up towards the second one, a golden chain, but couldn't reach it. He checked the window and locked it, peering through the glass for any sign of the stranger. He couldn't see the space in front of the door from there.
Ark stood shakily in the corner. Blake didn’t know what to say to him. A super hero would try to make him feel better. That is what he should do, too, probably. "It'll be okay, Ark." Blake said, going to rub his back.
"He's gone?" Ark asked. Not seeming any less scared than he'd been a moment ago.
Blake shook his head, unsure. "I don't know." He answered. Then he put his finger to his lips and told Ark to be very still and very quiet. It only made him tremble more.
Blake filtered out the sound of his brother's raspy breaths as he closed his eyes to focus. He could hear uneven breathing from the other side of the door. Slight, quick vibrations, and cursing. He recognized the sound from his time visiting his Aunt Claire. The man was on the phone, texting someone.
A moment later, he heard the movement of the bag from his arm and the slight friction between the fabric and phone screen as he tucked the phone into his pocket. When his footsteps started to receed, Blake almost let out a sigh of relief. That was, until the sound of the man's shoes scratched against the pavement, quicker with each passing second. It was then that Blake realized that he'd never intended to leave in the first place. Rather, he only walked away to give himself room. Right now, he was charging straight for their door.
Blake's breath caught in his lungs. What should he do? Should they call for help? The police would never make it in time even if they did dial them now. He no longer heard the couple's bickering or the cleaning lady's squeaky cart. In fact, save for the cars down by the road, he could only hear the man as he closed the ever shrinking distance to the door.
What would a hero do? What would Super Sound do?
Blake ran to the far bed, grabbed his headphones and slid them over Ark's head. "Ark. Time to play hide-n-seek. Go hide." He said forcefully, slapping the headphones down over his ears. There were tears in his brother's eyes, which proved he wasn't entirely clueless. Even if he hadn't been able to resist a stranger offering up his favorite chocolate bar. Blake turned towards the door as Ark slipped past him.
With a loud, splintering crash, the door caved in from the middle. Jutting inwards toward Blake on the other side. He clentched his fists and painfully pressed his nails into his palms as a single kick sent the door crashing down. Jake seethed with anger. The fingers on his right hand were purple and swollen as he laughed hysterically.
"Hello, little shit. How are ya?" He sneered.
Blake's knees shook as he watched him toss the bag on his arm to the side and looked about the room. The moment he stepped forward, Blake shouted.
"GaH!" He felt the vibrations in the back of his throat. The sound of his voice echoed repetitively in the air, and a simultaneous gust of pressure sent him sliding backwards across the carpet, burning his bare feet. Jake, eyes widened in surprise, instinctively covered his ears with a yelp. He was flung through the air, back out the doorway behind him, over the railing. His body noisily collided with the staircase below.
Blake's head pulsed painfully as he dropped to all fours. He caught movement in his peripheral, turned his head, and met his little brother's panicked eyes. They were still swollen from crying. Through a groan, he reached a hand in Ark's direction and helped him out from under the bed. In front of him, Ark peeled the headphones off his head.
Blake hugged him, then worked off the adrenaline pumping through his veins.Why hadn't anyone rushed to help them when the door fell in? He thought about their parents. When their father got worried, he rushed them to a safe place. The motel wasn't safe anymore.
"Ark, hurry and put on your shoes. We have to go." Blake frowned as his brother began to cry again.
"Mommy! Daddy!" He sobbed noisily.
Blake's head hurt so much. Every noise from Ark's mouth worsened it, but he refrained from shoving his hand over his mouth. Truthfully, his heart ached for them both. Part of him wanted to cry too, but he was too scared of being kidnapped to do it now. And it would have scared Ark even more.
"It's alright." Blake tried to reassure him, grabbing one of his brother's drawings from the floor. He flipped it over and scribbled across the paper. "We are going to leave them a note and they will come and find us."
Blake folded the sheet of paper and searched his brain for the lock code on his parents' suitcases. When the memory resurfaced, he quickly swiped the numbers to their proper place, tucked the note in and shut it closed. He remembered that their mother always turned the numbers back to zero when she used it, so he followed her example.
Blake grabbed his book bag, pulled out his Super Sound cape and tied it around his neck. Suddenly, he felt a little less afraid. Then, he tossed the leftover slices of pizza, food and drink in it.
He even grabbed the bag Jake had thrown to the side and stuffed it in with the choco bar Ark gave him previously. Then, he slipped on his coat and shoes, grabbed the covers and a pillow off the bed and checked his pocket for the emergency money.He didn't bother with the lights, tv, or anything else before he took his brother's hand and sloughed out through the busted door.
Outside, the two of them walked carefully and purposely towards the top of the staircase. From there, Blake could just make out Jake's body splayed out near the first floor.He shook off another chill as he pulled Ark close behind him down the stairs.
They stopped a few steps away from Jake's body and Blake nudged him roughly with tip of his shoe. He faught the urge to kick him.Was he dead?
When he didn't budge, he hesitantly helped Ark step over him. A feat made more difficult whenever he shrunk away. They rounded the corner and made their way passed the ramp that lead to the vending machine. The silence from the motel made him uneasy. Blake tried to shake the image of Jake out of his head as they continued toward the street.
When the bad guys come to trick you, they always lie. That man wanted more than just to give them candy. He was an adult. Wouldn't he know that kids aren't supposed to accept candy from strangers anymore anyway? But what exactly did he want with them?
Ark sniffled as he allowed himself to be lead at Blake's back. At least he's stopped crying, Blake thought. He wondered how long it would take to make it back to the forest with their small legs. Ark's were even smaller. He was fairly sure he could remember the way. If nothing else, the sounds of forest life could lead them there if they lost their way.
As the two of them nervously walked on, tired and suspicious of every stranger they saw, Blake kept thinking about the man he'd sent over the railing. He had never done that before. It was the first time he ever tried it on another human. It was different than he imagined and the pains in his head hadn't stopped yet. When Jake's broken sunglasses and twisted form on the steps flashed back through his mind, he reminded himself that he'd been a bad man.
He was the one who broke into the room. And, if comics taught him anything at all, it was that the silver haired man's name probably wasn't even 'Jake'...