Super (Novella): Super Search Read online

  I took another deep breath full of cheesy goodness before hearing voices coming from down the alley.

  “It’s mine!”

  Another voice answered the first one. “How you figure? I found it. You just showed up and now you expect to take it from me!”

  Down the alley, two homeless guys were arguing. They yelled at each other and gestured animatedly. One of them had a pocket knife he was using to punctuate his points. A small white cat with orange stripes stood at their feet, watching their argument.

  “You always do this, Lenny!” said the first guy. “You’re always looking for the shortcut. You want a cat but you don’t want to do the work to get a cat. You just show up and expect to take mine. But not this time! I’m hungry!”

  I couldn’t take any more. I took a few steps down the alley. If I were one of those flashy types fighting big, evil super villains, maybe I’d have some sort of catchphrase to yell here. But I was just me. So I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Hey! What are you doing?”

  Six sets of eyes swiveled toward me. The homeless guys looked at me with a mixture of concern and irritation. The cat just looked curious. I repeated myself. “What are you doing?”

  There was silence for a minute. And then one of them said “What’s it to you?”

  I couldn’t fly. I didn’t have super strength. All I had was the knowledge that whatever happened to me--If the guy with the pocket knife stabbed me or the cat had rabies and bit me--I’d probably survive. “Listen, if you’re about to eat that cat, it’s a bad idea.”

  The guys tried to look shocked but I could tell they were faking. They might as well as have been carrying utensils and a barbeque grill. “Wh-what are you talking about?” said the first one. “Just because we’re a little down on our luck, we’re out here eating cats? I’m offended.”

  I decided to ignore it. As a semi-professional liar, I could tell a lie when I heard one. “Let the cat go.”

  “Why?” It came from the one with the knife.

  At first, I tried to appeal to their sense of decency. “Because it’s stupid.”

  They stared blankly back at me. I decided to appeal to their sense of laziness. “And it’s gonna be a lot of work. You’ll have to kill it, skin it, and cook it. It’s just not worth it.”

  Still nothing. So I appealed to their sense of commerce. “Okay, fine. I’ll give you $10 not to do it.”

  The two homeless guys looked at each other. Then, the one with the knife said “Each?”

  “Fine!” I pulled two crumpled tens out of my pocket and held them out. The guys snatched them and took off down the street together. “Hey, I suggest you get yourself a grilled cheese sandwich,” I called after them. “That’s what I’d do if I had twenty bucks to spend.”

  I started to walk away when I noticed that the cat was still standing there, looking at me expectantly. “Um, you should run away now. They’re gone now but I can’t promise they won’t come back to fry you up,” I said to it. “And just a little tip for future survival: if two very hungry looking guys are having argument about who gets to eat you, don’t stick around to listen to it.”

  I took a few steps out of the alley and looked both ways. A few people on the street and no signs of the two cat chefs. I checked the time on my phone. It was almost eleven. I had the butt crack of dawn early shift at Cranky's and it would take me at least an hour to get back to the Upper West Side. Time to close up shop and get to home.

  Suddenly I felt something rubbing against my pants leg. I looked down to see the cat rubbing against my leg and purring. “Shoo! Go away!” I walked back toward the subway, refusing to look behind me. I’ve done my part. I’ve done my part. I’ve done my part, I chanted to myself the entire time. On the top step of the stairs leading down the subway, I finally dared turn around.

  The little orange and white cat was right behind me.

  Fuck it. I grabbed the cat and headed down into the subway. Doing Super work for the first time in weeks resulted in me being down twenty bucks and up one cat.

  Sounds about right, I thought.

  Chapter 5

  The ethics of being a Super are complicated. You swear an oath to follow the laws of the Council. Technically, you want to intervene in any emergency situation you come upon, whether in your district or not. But some things are just a gray area. Like whether you have to take home the cat you saved or if it’s okay to leave it on its own.

  From what I could tell, the cat was a girl. On the train ride, I named her Din-Din because she narrowly escaped being the main course in a cat dinner.

  You’d be surprised at how little people care about you carrying a cat onto the train, especially if said cat is really into hanging out with you and just kinda sits on your lap looking at you adoringly. Getting Din-Din into the house was even easier. My parents were sleeping so I didn’t have to explain anything. I just took her upstairs to my room. Crash gave me the side-eye from his bowl, but I just ignored him. After getting Din-Din a dish of water and a little roast beef from the kitchen, I passed out with her sleeping next to me.

  When my alarm went off in the morning, I dressed quickly. Then I made Crash promise to be nice to the still sleeping Din-Din and rushed out the door.

  Having a lifestyle like mine means that I don’t have very many close friends. Walking to Cranky's, I pulled out my phone and texted one of the only people who knew me well but didn’t know my secret.

  “Mellie, u want a cat?”

  I’d met Mellie as my coworker and we became friends. I’d hadn’t seen in her the couple of weeks since I’d been asked not to return to the job we worked together. But we had texted a few times and I thought maybe she would want to help me out.

  The answer came swiftly. “No.”

  “Y not?” I texted back.

  “Because I can’t have pets in my apartment. And my clothes are too fabulous to invite cat hair into my life.”

  She had a point. I’d known Din-Din for less than twelve hours and I already had a fair amount of cat hair on my clothes. “K,” I typed back.

  A few seconds later, Cranky's came into view. The front window was covered in red paint. “Great. Just great,” I groaned to myself. The Graffiti Bandit had struck again.

  I stood in front of the store for a minute to admire today’s masterpiece. It was the same red paint but this time the artist had created an elaborate scene depicting a balding guy peeing in coffee cups. I assumed it was inspired by Lou. I snapped a picture with my phone and checked the time. It was only 5am but we were opening in thirty minutes and I still needed to set up. Since everyone’s hours had been cut, it was just me for the first few hours. If I didn’t get this off of the windows before we opened, it would be there for most of the day. I had to get it down.

  I opened the store with my key and set up faster than ever before--turning on the lights, starting the machines, putting out the stations, etc. Then I grabbed a bucket of soapy water and got to work on the window. Like all the other times, it came off pretty easily once I put a little elbow grease into it.

  I was concentrating on working fast and getting the paint off the window when I heard a voice behind me. “What color do you think that is?”

  I turned to see the old guy I’d run into near the bathroom the other day. He was leaning on his cane watching me as I worked on the window. I looked back at the paint. “Red, I guess.”

  The old guy leaned a little closer and squinted. “Looks more like magenta to me.”

  I shrugged. “Isn’t that kind of the same thing?”

  He shook his head definitively. “No, magenta is red with a lot of pinkish purple in it. And that’s definitely magenta.”

  “Okay, then it’s magenta.” I looked up at the old guy. “Listen, we’re not open for another ten minutes, you know. As soon as I’m finished this, I’ll take care of you, sir.” I went back to washing the window.

  “Hy.”

  I turned to him again. “Um, hi there. Like I said, though, jus
t let me get this done and I’ll open up for you.”

  He shook his head and pointed at himself. “No. I said ‘HY.’”

  He was getting on my nerves. “Yeah and I said hi to you, too.”

  “No. Hy as in Hyram.” He pointed to himself. “Hyram. That’s my name. But my friends call me Hy. I’m up from Miami visiting my sister. She lives right up the street.”

  “Oh. Er, um, okay.” I took one more swipe at the window and called it good enough. I grabbed my supplies and opened the door to the store. “Well then Hy. Come on in.”

  He took another look at the window and muttered “Definitely, magenta” before following me inside.

  *****

  “Audrey, why do you have a CAT in your room?”

  The text from my mother came about midway through my shift. I ignored it. I’m always better at explaining in person.

  Around eight, Eddie showed up. I’d only worked with him a few times. Besides the fact that he had been working there a lot longer than anyone else had and that he was a little unfriendly, I didn’t know much about him. He didn’t really invite a lot of conversation. But in that moment, I decided to make an effort.

  I told him about the graffiti and he made a noncommittal noise. I pressed on. “It’s crazy but it’s affecting business. We’re all losing hours over it.”

  Eddie clocked in and put on his apron. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been working here for over a year. Lou was giving me double overtime before he hired on you guys and now he says I’m only going to get a 20 hours a week. I might have to get a second job to cover my expenses.”

  “See? I’m having money problems, too. I keep trying to think of ways I could help but I’m coming up with nothing.”

  “Well,” Eddie leaned on the counter and gave me a baleful look. “You could quit. This stuff wasn’t happening before you started working here. Maybe it will stop when you’re gone.”

  I gave him a sour look and went back to work. Note to self--Don’t talk to Eddie anymore, I thought to myself.

  As usual the shift went by quickly. We weren’t that busy but from the time I made Hy’s black drip coffee to the last macchiato of the morning, I hadn’t stopped moving.

  Before I left, I texted Lou to tell him about the newest development in the Graffiti Bandit drama and sent him the picture. He texted back a few choice words about being persecuted but told me that he was glad I’d handled it before I opened up. I took the praise and tried to let it keep me in a good mood as I walked home. I knew I’d need it.

  My mother was waiting for me when I opened the door. She was holding Din-Din and her face was bright red. She said one word. “Audrey.”

  “Mom,” I started. “I was--”

  “No, don't explain. I don’t want to hear it. Just get this cat out of here.”

  She pushed Din-Din into my arms. The cat looked up me lovingly and meowed. “But Mom. I saved her. And nobody I know can have a cat at their place.” It wasn’t a lie. I only knew like four people.

  Mom put her hands on her hips. Although people sometimes said we looked alike, there weren’t very many similarities between us. She was a let’s-wear-pearls-and-write-handwritten-thank-you-notes-and-have-to-do-lists kind of woman. She and Ella were like two peas in a pod. It would have been funny to see her losing her shit if I wasn’t the target of her anger. “Well that seems to be going around because you can’t have a cat at your place, either.”

  “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

  That seemed to agitate her even more. “Oh really? You didn’t think I’d notice that your room smells like cat urine.”

  I grimaced. “Oh yeah. I guess I forgot about the litter box.”

  “I think you also forgot that you need to follow the house rules if you want to stay here.”

  “What happened to the you’re-our-daughter-and-you-always-have-a-place-with-us talk?”

  “That was before you brought home a cat. Either it goes or you go.”

  Chapter 6

  Arguing with my mom is like playing chess against Bobby Fischer back before he was crazy and dead; You’re not gonna win so why even try. Besides, I had an interview to get to. I took Din-Din upstairs and changed into my interview clothes. The room looked just as messy as I’d left it. The only difference was a stack of mail on the night stand. Bills and Council notices--nothing I wanted to read so I shoved them under the bed. Minutes later I was headed out the door and to the subway. I didn’t want to be late for this.

  Also, my mom was right. My room did smell like cat piss.

  But I couldn’t worry about that until later. For now, I relied on the fact that Din-Din had been extremely agreeable for as long as I’d know her--fifteen hours. So I made her comfortable in my ratty old messenger bag and headed to the Lower East Side.

  This interview was for an administrative position with an office supply company. I found the address fairly easily and I checked in with ten minutes to go. Things were going well.

  A young blond woman in a gray pantsuit approached me in the lobby. “Are you Audrey? Hi, I’m Ambeeeerrrr.” Her voice was nasally and she drew out the last syllable of her name. “You’re gonna be doing your interview with me today. Let’s go back to my officcccce.” She did it again. She sounded like a cross between a valley girl and someone on drowsy medication. It was weird but I couldn’t afford to get hung up on it.

  I followed Amber back to her office and we each took seats. I carefully placed my cat-filled messenger bag on the floor near my chair. Amber opened a file folder on her desk. “Soooo, Audrey, I got your email with your resume and it looks like you have experience working with an office product company. That’s great! Tell me about iiiittttttt.”

  “Well, I worked there for three years as a sales rep. I really liked it because I find office supplies so interesting. I’d love to get back into that industry. “These were all lies. But if these lies would get me the job, I would make them my truth.

  She must have bought it because she gave me a big smile. “I know, rigggghhhttttt?” Even if I have to listen to her talk like that eight hours a day, forty hours a week, I need this job, I thought.

  “Meow.”

  It was low but I definitely heard it. I was trying to see if Amber heard it happened again, louder.

  “Meeoooooowwww.”

  Amber’s face scrunched up. “Ummmmm, so why did you leave Brooklyn Paper Compannnnyyy?”

  Because I was a terrible employee who never made a sale and then I burned down the warehouse fighting with a coworker who was also an evil villain with a plan to mind control New York.

  But I couldn’t say that. “You know, I was there for a good chunk of time and I just felt like I wasn’t being challenged enough. I love a good challenge. And I’m looking for a job that can challenge me over and over again.”

  “MeeeeeeOOOOOOWWWWWWW.”

  I worked to control the muscles in my face. I needed to wrap this up and get out of there before Amber got the balls to ask me about my meowing messenger bag. “Amber, please let me be honest. I feel like there is an undeniable chemistry between the two of us and we would make a great team. Let’s just do this. When do you want me to start?”

  Amber opened her mouth but before she could say anything, Din-Din let out another one. “MEEEEOOOOOWWWWWWWWW.”

  There was a long pause. And then Amber asked “Ummmm, do you have cat with yooouuuuu?”

  I sighed. “Yeah.” I reached down and pulled out Din-Din, who slow blinked at me. Then he rubbed his spit-filled little mouth on my hand. “You’re not going to hire me, are you?”

  Amber shook her head. “Noooooo.”

  ******

  I stood on the sidewalk in front of the building, unable to think of anywhere to go. Mom said not to go back home with the cat. The thought of bringing Din-Din to the animal shelter depressed me. What could I do?

  For the moment, I bought a pretzel and a water from the cart on the street. Then I sat on a bench sharing my food and water with Din-Din, who sat next
to me. “That’s right, kid. When in doubt, eat something.”

  I heard a dinging noise coming from my phone and pulled it out of my bag. It was a text from an apartment Craigslist ad I’d responded to a few days ago when I still thought I might eventually be able to afford one. It said that the owner was doing some work on the place and if I wanted to see it I should come now. I texted back that I was on my way.

  “Well Din-Din,” I said throwing the trash away and settling the cat back in my bag. “The law of averages says something has to work out for me. Let’s go see if this is it.”

  Forty minutes later, I was walking down the street in Brighton Beach, known for its eastern European population and for being way the fuck out of the way. Still, it was a decent little neighborhood and I could see myself eating pirozhky, drinking vodka, and living there.

  I knocked and an older, stern-looking man opened the door. “Hi, I’m here to see the apartment for rent.”

  He nodded and said “Yes” in a thick Russian accent. He motioned for me to follow him but didn’t say anything else. I followed him down the hall and up some stairs. We went down another hall and then up another flight of steps. By then I was winded and hoping that was the last of the stairs. The man still hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t even looked back to see if I was following him. Finally, he stopped at a door, opened it, and pointed inside.

  It was a one-room apartment. The tiny space featured a hot plate, table, a small window and a door to the bathroom. And it smelled like cat piss.

  I covered my nose. “Why does it smell like this?” The man just shrugged.

  I considered my options. Based on the price in the ad, the place only cost a bit more than staying at my parents’ house. And although it was far away from my usual stomping ground, living this far into Brooklyn might help me do more Super work. Maybe this could be a good thing. And Febreze gets out cat pee, right? I asked myself.