Doc Tesseract

The adventures of Greg Silverman, retail industry employee, prospective college student and superhero.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

And Now, A Brief Interlude

Sorry about the lack of posting yesterday. Quint's pills left me in bat country all day long.

So, today, something arrived in the mail: my new costume. Obviously, I can't use my old one, because it got kinda charbroiled. Came with a nice little note, too: "Fireproofed this time. Francesco."

Unfortunately, this has led to greater complications: my parents. We didn't talk about things after the attack; they just gave me the usual parental unconditional love, with me being able to eat what I want and renting a bunch of movies for me to pass the time with while I recover. Now that the costume's come, however, they really can't avoid the whole superhero thing.

"Greg, we're just concerned about your safety," Dad said.

"I know."

"We agreed, before you started this: if you were seriously injured, you would stop."

"I know."

"And you've been laid up for a week with an injury that's being treated through Magic Hoodoo Pills. I'd say that's seriously injured."

"I think I may have had a different definition of 'seriously injured'."

"Well, what would that be?"


After that, Dad had to go lie down, so Mom came in to talk.

"Greg, honey, listen to me. You've got your whole life ahead of you. Can't you just take a break from superheroing for a while?"

"Define 'a while'."

"Well, until after you finish college, of course."

"After college!"

"Greg, we're just... well, we're a little afraid. I mean, we're glad you're devoting your time to a good cause, but we'd like it if you did something... less potentially lethal."

"Look, Mom. I'm sorry about what happened, but can't you give me another chance?"

"Greg. This isn't 'Little Bunny Foo-Foo', and I'm not the fairy. I'm just trying to watch out for you."

At this point, Dad came back in the room.

"Son, it's just... if something happened to you out there-- I mean, something worse-- we could never forgive ourselves."

"You wouldn't have to. Look, if anything happens to me, it's my fault. Mine. I wasn't being careful enough, or--"

"Greg, please! You were attacked by a dragon, you're taking pain pills that make you nonsensical for about 8 hours a day-- and you honestly aren't thinking about what else could happen to you?"

"Of course I am. It's just..." And here comes the bombshell. "Look. Remember how I told you I think my powers were related to my blackout?" They nod. "Well, I've been having dreams for the past few months. And in them, the girl who I think gave me the whammy is talking to me." Long pause. "She told me... she told me that I was chosen for a reason."

Another pause. "And what reason is that?" Mom said, somewhat weakly.

"...I don't know yet. I'm getting bits and pieces of it as is. But the thing is, I don't think I can give up. Not yet. There's just... look, you said you'd been following me. Didn't you see me when I banished that demon? Or took care of the giant robot? Or saved Philly from glowing green? I've been doing a lot of good things, guys. I've been helping the world. And I don't want to stop. Not yet, at least." Pause. "Look, I'll wait until I'm fully recovered to go heroing again. I'll lessen my patrols for the rest of the summer, and only do it every other night when I'm in college. I just don't want to stop yet. Please?"

They looked into each other's eyes, the parental mind meld in process. They walked out of the room for a little bit. I heard whispers, but nothing I can make out. Finally, they came back in, and Mom said, "Okay. You can start heroing again after you're completely recovered. But if you get hurt again, you have to stop heroing for at least two months. All right?"

Well, at least I'm still on the street. "Good," I said. "And thanks."

Mom reached over and hugged me. "We just want you to be safe," she said.

So, I'm still heroing. That's cool. And tomorrow, the thrilling conclusion!


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