100/100 -22-

The envelope lay next to the razor. Elise had given him the envelope a year ago, before she’d disappeared. One day, she’d said, he would follow her on the journey. The moment it became too much, she’d said pleadingly, he had to read the message. Wiping his eyes, he cut open the envelope. A small introduction card fell out, written in her beautiful script.

“Have you considered going mad instead?”

He laughed. And the tears that fell didn’t stop the laughter. The razor dropped like a swan’s fart in his hands as the melody of Elise’s voice echoed in platinum.

100/100 -21-

The son held the mask in his hands, looking as if he were about to throw up.
“-You’re- Captain Awesome?!?”

His father nodded, smiling. His son had grown, becoming more a reflection of his own youthful days.

“Yes, I felt it was time…”

“But you –can’t- be. You don’t understand…”

The father nodded, pulling out a small pile of ‘Captain Awesome and Lightning Lord’ slash comics. His son looked just about ready to die.

“I found these in your room…And thought it was time for both of us to have an honest conversation.”

And in time, both of them laughed.

100/100 -20-

“And he can punch through steel, and he can fly and he protects the city!” The boy sat with his dad in the main room of their tiny apartment. He held his brand new Captain Awesome figurine like a cherished treasure.

His father smiled, watching him play. “So what’s his secret identity?”

“No one knows. I bet he’s some kind of super-scientist or billionaire!”

“You know what I think? I think he’s just some hard-working guy who tries to juggle taking care of a kid on his own with his pledge for justice.”

“That’s silly, daddy.”

His father smiled indulgently.

100/100 -19-

The alchemist sat glumly on the stone floor tapping at the edge of the chalk circle. It’s not that he didn’t want to leave, but his legs just didn’t want to go past the edge. Beyond the ring were walls that operated two dimensions further than his eyes allowed, painted in the chartreuse of madness. A demon sat in a chair, grinning, the layers of his teeth grinding against each other. It rubbed between its tentacles a lock of the alchemist’s hair.

“Well?” Said the alchemist impatiently.

“I just wanted you to see what it felt like,” said the demon.

100/100 -18-

The intern stared up the length of the Chase Tower, swallowing. The curve of it swept up high past the Loop.

“I can’t do this.”

“Put your hands on the building. What do you see?”

The intern leaned forward, staring up the length of the concrete, his heart racing. The curve of the building created a false perspective. He was no longer looking up, but forward.

“All magic is perspective. Find a point, change your perspective, and act.”
The moon passed over the edge of the tower.

The intern stretched, pressing his foot on the concrete.

“RUN TO THE MOON!”

100/100 -17-

Red chip.

Blue chip.

Bad boy.

Good Boy.

The chips are counted every single week.

Red Boy gets the belt. Beaten within an inch of his life.

Blue boy gets an M&M.

Start again next week.

Red Boy gets chips for being girly. For loving his mother. For being kind.

Blue Boy gets chips for being tough. For playing with trucks. For swallowing tears.

The Chips rise and fall.

Only Red Boy.

Only Blue Boy.

Mother and father are afraid of Pink Boy.

Doctors say this will work.

The chips will keep him in line.

‘No one was obviously harmed’.

100/100 -16-

“Can I keep it?”

He stared at the thing on the floor, cheerfully enveloping half of a sneaker. It moved like a protoplasm, but was covered in soft russet fur. He tried poking at it, but it wobbled threateningly. His daughter, though, was able to pick it and the shoe up without a problem, while it burbled and bubbled. She smiled down at it so possessively, almost threateningly. He swallowed down his fear. All the ‘raising a mad scientist’ books said this was a possibility. Preteens vacillated between science and madness. There really was only one solution:

“Ask your mother.”