If there’s one word I hate the most in the English dictionary, it’s step-father.
Robert Hawkins is my real father. Black Lightning ain’t.
Robert Hawkins shelters the poor, the homeless, people who don’t have power from the people who have all the power in the world. He’s the operator of the Freeman Community Center. Robert Hawkins taught me how to bicycle down a hill. Robert Hawkins took me out for hot dogs whenever I aced my test. Robert Hawkins taught me what it means to be a man.
Black Lightning? Black Lightning left me behind when I needed a father.
I shot my first three pointer without him. I got my powers without him by my side. I survived the Big Bang without him. I lost my mother without him. I had 11 good birthdays without him. He's a stranger to me like he is to everyone else in this town. It doesn't matter that both of us have the same blood.
The only thing that he did was to leave behind a legacy for me to live up to.
If he ever comes back to Dakota again…..
Man, that's a good joke.
time: 13:05, Saturday
place: sadler's shack, dakota city
The two of them pushed, half-laughing and half-stumbling, through the door of Sadler’s Shack, bell ringing to introduce their entry in the bustling road diner.
“ - So, that’s how Sharon’s two pet goldfish went missing?!” Virgil’s dad gaped “ ‘Cause you believed that stupid fish movie I watched with when you were seven years old?”
“ Well -” Virgil muttered, embarrassed “ All drains lead back to the ocean. Right?”. That got a chuckle out of Virgil’s dad as he slapped the back of his son, shaking his head in disbelief.
Damn, he’d missed talking with Dad. Meandering small-talk that dug up lost secrets fossilized in memory. The original topic of their conversation had shifted so far off course like a game of chinese whispers. One moment, they were talking about how the Freeman center was holding yet another charity drive and the next, it had strayed off to a talk about TV shows and car accidents.
“ Isn’t your friend supposed to be here?” Virgil scratched his head as he searched through the restaurant.
His dad signed, checking the time on his wristwatch. “ He was. Maybe, he’s caught a bad jam downtow-”
“ Table for two?”
They were both interrupted by a black-haired waiter, lips pressed tight with a pencil behind her right ear and clearly on the verge of impatience. Virgil’s dad shook his head and explained. “ Table for 3.” The waiter gave a silent nod before leading the both of them to an empty table.
Virgil’s mom once said that a restaurant was a glimpse into the soul of the city and Sadler’s Shack was no different.. Hissing oil and the smell of smoked sausage and hash on the griddle was thick and noxious enough to churn his stomach. Sadler’s Shack wasn’t just a simple cul-de-sac restaurant. Sadler’s Shack was Dakota history. Everyone from outer Utopia Park to Prospect Hills knew about Sadler’s Shack and your father’s father probably ate there when they were your age. The faded brick walls, seemingly crumbled but not collapsed, were lined with scores and rows of pictures, some black and white and others colored. There was one picture, though, which everyone was crowded over like it was the Mona Lisa. Virgil reflexively flinched away from a picture that he’d seen so many times during his childhood when his mother had brought him. After all, who wouldn’t want to take a picture with his former father?
Their table was situated next to an open window.
“ Ah, Larry, Larry, Larry!” Virgil could hear the rapping of fists together and the slapping of arms against backs. “ Nice to see you out of your office once in a while.”
Larry. Virgil’s brow furrowed in anxiety. Where had he heard that name before?
“Virgil - Oh, for god’s sake, put that menu down!”
A hand pried his attention away from a waffle dish that looked downright delicious towards Dad's friend. First impressions were that the man looked out of town. Like he'd just recently settled in. He could tell that from the shifting eyes of suspicion and the way his neck was tense at the muscles. His thick ridged skull bragged a genetic history of being a punching-bag with a boxer's physique, top-heavy with bear-like arms. He was wearing a thick linen jacket and his sandy head was clean-shaven to the roots. There was a cough from his Dad as he gestured towards Static. With a roll of his eyes, Virgil lifted his left arm awkwardly up lazily for a handshake, crossing his left hand over his bandaged cast.
“ I would like to introduce you to Larry Buchinsky. He’s in charge of our donations team for the Freeman Community Center and this week’s charity drive manager.”
“ Don’t be so formal, Rob. It's just Larry.” Virgil could barely make out Larry's words through his thick British accent " You must be Virgil. Your dad's told me a lot about you over work these past months."
A part of Virgil’s brain was screaming at him, grasping him by the shoulders, telling himself that something was up. What was it that Herman had told him? It was on the tip of his tongue. Something that started with E. His mind began returning back to that conversation the closer both of their hands approached together.
Larry Buchinsky. Went by the name of Electrocutioner. And
Buchinsky goes straight for the kid like a coiled cobrait just-
I never took up the mask againHit him.
“ You’re looking a little pale there, son.” Larry Buchinsky, the Electrocutioner, gave him a worried frown. “ Is a handshake too much to ask for around these parts? ”
Crap. Was his hand really shaking that much? The chewing and crunching of toast and waffles around him reminded him of that first,fateful encounter when he broke his right arm, twitches of phantom pain lancing up from his elbow to his shoulder. The whole entire world was spinning around him now as he tried not to retch at the sheer cosmic irony of the situation. His heart began to thud faster as Virgil’s hand grasped Buchinsky’s dinner-plate sized one, large enough to crush his bones into dust and break him a-
Electricity bled from his trembling fingers as Virgil shook Buchinsky’s hand. Not enough to knock him out but not enough to be painless. Larry’s hand recoiled back as if a bee had stung him, nursing it. The former criminal blinked for a moment, his eyes narrowing momentarily in suspicion before shrugging and smiling at his father.
“You didn’t tell me your son was a prankster, Rob.”
“ He isn’t.” Virgil’s dad slowly turned to glare at him. “ You didn’t pick up anything bad in Hemingway, did you now, Virgil?”
“ No, no! Just must have been...uh....some static. " said Virgil, who was currently wishing that he'd never agreed to the coffee date in the first place. If Ms Barnes hadn't rescheduled the English test today, he would have had an acceptable excuse. However, having a video-game binge with Richie on the fresh copies of Street Sluggers wasn't going to convince his Dad.
The explanation wasn't good enough for his dad but to his relief, it was good enough for Buchinsky. Virgil breathed out as Buchinsky chuckled, seeing it nothing more as a practical joke. He composed himself, trying to bury his fear underneath a mountain of apathy. ALl he had to do was to keep it together for the next thirty minutes. Easy enough. Besides, Buchinsky didn't suspect anything at all. His calm exterior started to break the moment Buchinsky sat right in front of him, eye to eye. Virgil's breath hitched as Buchinsky asked him a question.
" So, Virgil, how's school? I heard you study at Hemingway."
"Yeahit'
salright.School'sfoodgoodandwehavedrillsevery" Virgil blurted out before slowing down into an intelligible pace. His cheeks reddened as both adults raised their eyebrows at him " You know, it's an okay place. Nothing out of the ordinary."
" Nothing out of the ordinary." Buchinsky repeated before muttering cynically. " Nothing's been ordinary ever since the Big Bang happened. Our community center's been more flooded than ever with the homeless and the poor since last month. Our kitchen's ran out of soup stock trying to feed our 550 residents. 550, can you imagine that, Rob?"
" 550 less off the streets." Virgil's dad clasped Buchinsky's shouler supportively. " Be more optimistic, Larry. By the way you've been talking off, our next donation should secure us for a long time."
" Pah, donations." Larry flipped through the menu halfheartedly. " They can barely keep us afloat for more than a week. Everyday, it just seems like the number of more and more people in our shelter keep rising. Sometimes, I wonder how you can keep finding new jobs for them, Rob."
" Everyone always has a choice in Dakota City, Larry. Now, how's about we stop talking about work? It's your first time meeting my son after all."
" Now, that you've said it....." Larry closed the menu as he passed it slowly back to Virgil’s dad, one eye levelled on Virgil " Are you sure that I've haven't seen him before? In your house maybe or somewhere..."
" No, this is your first time." Virgil's dad leaned over to wave for a waiter. " I'll try and see if I can get a waiter that’s not busy in this place..."
The fluorescent lights began to flicker overhead as a bead of sweat rolled down Virgil's forehead. Damn, his powers just had to start malfunctioning now. Larry's eyes trailed upwards towards the ceiling. Virgil closed his eyes as he began shutting off the flow of electricity in a fit of panic, the lights returning back to normal. He signed before opening them right up to the sight of Larry’s granite-like gaze settling on him. His two hands were locked together in a loose hold, the pads of his fingers rubbing his knuckles like a grindstone, waiting for Virgil to do something. Virgil pretended to not notice that Larry was staring at him, staring boredly outside the window whilst internally panicking in his mind.
The sound of a baby wailing and a mother hushing her child broke the tension. The glare dissolved from Larry’s face as it was immediately replaced by a crinkled smile of a family friend.
“ So, Virgil. You play any sports?”
“ I can’t really shoot any hoops since I...well…” Virgil shifted his bandaged right arm as if its existence was explanation enough.
“ First time breaking it?” Larry asked dryly whilst Virgil gaped in shock. “ Don’t look so surprised. Your dad was yammering on all about it on the phone to me yesterday.”
“ Yammering?!” Virgil’s dad exclaimed, looking at Larry testily “ When the school called me on Thursday, I thought of the worst. Ever since Mary….” He caught himself, staring at Virgil with regret before shaking his head. “ Well, I thought Virgil had been caught in a fight or worse.”
“ Relax. I’m sure it was a shocker to us all.” Larry paused lightly on the last sentence, as he swiveled his head towards Virgil and waited for his reaction. “ Besides, if anything happens in this town, Static will be there to save the day.”
Virgil froze, gripping the menu tightly whilst forcing the excess static building up in his body to the heel of his shoe, causing it to heat up uncomfortably.
“ Hmph.” His dad snorted “ If only he could save us from the city council’s bureaucracy…”
“ Can I get you boys anything?”
The same waiter that had greeted them in front was tapping her notepad insistently. Larry piped up first, grinning at the waiter.
“ I would like some hash and your Lightning Latke special, please.”
The ceiling lights flickered twice again.
“ Crap, crap, crap, c’mon, just a few more….” Virgil was panting by the time he'd reached his dorm room, skidding by his heels on the mopped floor. Why did the elevator have to break down today? He pushed the door open and locked it in a hurry, pressing his head against it before turning around. " Richie, there's something that I have to tell...."
Virgil's voice trailed off in horror, squeaking at the sight of what he saw. Richie was knocked out and duct-taped against the backrest of a wheeled stool, his arms and legs locked to the sides with his head resting on his chin, dried drool on his shoulder. Besides him was the lounging form of Larry Buchinsky who was currently dressed up in his costume without the mask and helping himself to a bag of potato chips.
" Don't stand there gawking like an idiot." said Larry. " Sit down. You and I have some business to discuss, Virgil. Or should I say..."
Larry kicked open the closet to reveal his signature blue jacketed costume.
"...Static."
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