The air carried the smell of the forest fires into the city. If I had the time to fly out to fight the fires I would, but there are brave Albertans on the front line. I hover over top of the city, sometimes the power of flight is a good thing (not to mention the telekinesis that forms a quasi bullet proof shell around me), but unlike Superman I got not speed or sight powers just some extra strength. Jonny Power and the power isn’t even inherently within me, it is caused through a mystical medallion that seared itself into my chest. A lineage of Power’s has existed, and when each dies the medallion finds a new host.
Three years ago I was chosen when the then Jonny Power was taken out in a Christmas Shopping mall mishap when Zombie Santa attacked, the explosion from the gas main took him out (he did not understand how to use the telekinesis shield). As I explore through meditation the heroic lineage I was voluntold into I discover it is usually a 5 year tour then death, not exactly the life plan I want to sign up for. Which led me to realize as with anything if one wants to succeed they need the right mentors, which is why I enlisted a life coach for super heroes (and yes there is such a thing, found it at yellowpages.ca if you will)?
Thus I float here scanning the city, about ten stories up for anything untoward. But then what can be classed as untoward in a city that 3 years ago had a villain named Zombie Santa killing shopping mall Santa’s and elves? And unlike our neighbours to the north, we did not have to evacuate because of the encroaching smoke of the forest fires, but we are on alert.
My hip vibrates; thankfully the phone is hidden under the leather bomber jacket and black hoody. Flip open the line. “Talk to me.” I know not a very classy opening, but really who calls the hero? Right I should probably disclose to you that whole secret identity thing and all that, but really I got a brainstorm when the medallion hit me… Put up a shingle and be a hero for hire. Surprisingly it works quite well.
“Jonny when you getting back to the office?”
“In a few Kara what’s up?” Kara Vander, main squeeze, the organizer of my life and business. We have been together for five years (and yes that means my real first name was Jonny, quite funny eh?).
There is that sigh that more than likely went with a traditional eye roll for she knows what my time schedule is like. “Look we got something big that just came in over the wire,” she loves talking in the old newspaper jargon probably has to do with the journalism diploma she picked up, “we’re talking Santa Zombie, Killer Clown or that whacko floating leopard head big.” Okay listing off the three biggest threats my predecessor put down before his demise is definitely a way to get my interest. Turn back and fly towards the office.
The haze is getting thicker, hope there isn’t an evacuation order because that would be a supreme gong show. Land outside the old five room church building, where the sign that used to scream St. Basil the Great United…is replaced with the office sign of Jonny Power Hire a Hero. Excellent find in this economy for purchase, the church had reached the end of its life cycle so offloaded cheap on the bankruptcy market. We were able to convert the sanctuary to a living room/rec room, the old Sunday school area and kitchen into our master suite, kitchen and full shower while maintaining the front church office and the minister’s office as our work area. Multi-purpose and being able to claim working from home as a deduction since the whole building functions for what we need. Kara teaches Yoga at lunch hour out of the rec area for some extra coin, and we hold meditation each night, movie nights, a youth drop in time and at some point I should probably put my theological training to good use and offer a bible study or something, but I am really questioning this whole God thing.
Walk through the oak double doors, the meditation time is already in session so as not to disturb i side step into the clerical office. Kara is in the comfy leather couch we put in for the waiting area. “I’m back what’s up?” She head bobs to the door of my office. It is filled by the dwarf. Okay filled is an exaggeration on my part, but the form of K (which is all my super hero life coach goes by) is made bigger by his personality. K is always dressed in a pristine pressed 3 piece black pin stripe suit with a white French cut shirt, his but length hair is braided, and he has two hoops in his ears. His husband Mark says that their biggest expense isn’t the mortgage it’s K’s wardrobe.
“It is show time youngling.” Show time, because the past three years of stopping criminals, fighting super baddies and mad scientist monsters has been a walk in the park? My face must betray what my mind is processing because K cuts a grin. `The past three years have been training now it is time.“ K shows me his Android and plays the video of the forest fire fighters, but something is emerging from the smoke claws are slashing fire is flying.
`Fuck me it`s a dragon. “
`Very possibly, but that`s where you need to be. The hero that does pro bono to save a province by slaying a dragon, it`s like the legend of St. George or something.“ Or something is right. Where in the super hero job description does it say that one must slay dragons?
Deep breaths, set aside the normal human fear of fire, set aside the fact that I am not Superman or completely invulnerable. Set aside the fact that yes I can fly quicker, but it is still going to be a few hours to make it out to the fire line. How does one exactly beat a dragon?
Kara is looking a bit perplexed, “okay gents keep it down, we have 12 folks in their trying to discover inner peace and our resident super hero looks like he’s going to drop a load in his tights.”
“Hey I do not wear tights.” That is correct I buy my jeans from Army an Navy for 10 bucks a pair, cause hey they just get shredded anyways. She smiles at me and blows a little pixie kiss, her way of calling me a whiner.