Super Reporters

Whiz Kid

"Hello Miss Tess," Billy rubbed the back of his neck. Recalling what Captain Marvel needed, he recited, "I'm looking for books on basic electronics, digital imaging and sensors, microcontrollers and programming, optics and lens design."

"Woah, that's some serious stuff there," Tess laughed. "What is my little Einstein up to?"

"Who's Einstein?" Billy scratched his head.

"You are," she tweaked his nose. Taking his hand, she led him to a shelf filled with thick books. "You sure you can read these?"

"I can learn," he winked as he trotted out of the library with his arms full of books.

Out of curiosity, he flipped through one of the books. "in-te-gra-ted cir-.." he scratched his head. He couldn't make head or tail what any of these books said. A quick look around to make sure there wasn't anyone around, he whispered, "Shazam."

Thunder crashed. Lightning surged through him, causing his mind and body to expand, changing him once more into Captain Marvel. Books under an arm, The Captain took off, landing on the roof of a skyscraper so that he could study the materials in peace. What boggled Billy's mind was too easy for Captain Marvel. In minutes, he knew what to do. Landing in a junk yard, he found the materials he needed and got to work.

An hour later, armed with his new camera, Captain Marvel patrolled the city.

The bridge connecting Fawcett to St. Louis collapsed as supporting cables snapped.

Pouring on his speed, the cars stopped falling, the world came to a complete standstill.

Plucking cars and falling people from mid-air, Captain Marvel carried everyone to the other side of the bridge. Then he caught the bridge and held it up with one hand. With the other hand, he posed for a selfie, taking multiple shots with his new camera.

------

The ad had been up for more than a week. Dozens of candidates breezed through the door and out again. Every one of them produced photos of some guy in cosplay, pretending to be Captain Marvel. Not one of them was the real deal. Sure, trick photography made it look like the subject was flying, but Morris was sharp enough to spot the fakes. Every forger was thrown out with their faked photographs.

"Mr Morris, a Mister Batson is here to see you about the job opening," announced his secretary, Lucy.

"Send him in," Morris, ever hopeful, prepared himself to interview the ninety-ninth candidate for the job.

The door opened.

Morris's jaw dropped.

In walked in tiny little boy who was still in elementary school. From the looks of it, the scrawny child had to be somewhere between seven and nine years old.

"I have photos to accompany my story about what Captain Marvel did this morning," the scruffy child beamed, his dimpled smile dazzling Morris.

"Take a seat," Morris gestured at the chair in his office.

The tiny boy scrambled up the chair, gigging as he disappeared into it, his little feet sticking out from the chair's edge. "This is so comfy. So big!"

The chair wasn't big. The boy was tiny.

"What is your name?" Morris poured a cup of tea for the little boy.

"Billy Batson. I'm here for the reporter job. I've got photos of Captain Marvel holding up the collapsing bridge," the raven grinned, his brilliant blue eyes glowing with excitement.

Taking the photos from Morris, he ruffled the adorable child's hair. "I'll take a look."

What he saw astonished the seasoned newsman. Photograph after photograph of Captain Marvel in action came out crystal clear, every one matching the eye witness accounts of the event.

"Can you write?" He doubted one so young could write articles for the newspaper, but this boy could be a prodigy.

"Not very well, but I can read," the child tilted his head in thought.

Morris scrutinised the smart but very young reporter in front of him. He had a sunny disposition and a pleasant demeanour that could bring great ratings for a talk show.

The child had a sincere, pleasant voice that would work well on radio too.

"How would you like to host a daily radio show and a weekly Television talk show for Whiz?" Morris offered. "I could start a Whiz Kid segment for your reports on Captain Marvel."

"Yes!" The child, perched at the edge off the chair, fell off in excitement. Morris would have to get new furniture for his new star's office. Child-sized desk, chair and basically, everything the boy needs to do his work.

"How old are you?" Morris helped the boy to his feet.

"I'll be nine next month," the boy straightened his back, trying to look as tall as the little one possibly could.

"Lucy, prepare a talk show and radio host contract for Billy Batson, a minor," Morris called out to his secretary.

"Billy, I'll need your dad to sign the papers," Morris knelt down to speak to the tiny boy.

"Dad?" the child tensed up.

Uh oh. Maybe something happened to his parents and he was living with his guardian.

"I'll need an adult to sign the contract before you can work for me," he explained as gently as he could.

The boy thought for a moment, then lit up. "I'll go call my dad. He'll sign the contract for me." With that, the child skipped out of the office.

Thunder roared. Lightning struck too near the building for comfort. Looking out of the window, Morris frowned at the cloudless blue sky. Ever since Captain Marvel's debut, freak lightning had become a common occurrence in Fawcett.

A large, well-built man in a red checked shirt and blue jeans strode into the room, brimming with confidence and power. "Hi," his brilliant blue eyes bore through Morris, though his brilliant smile, warm and sincere, put him at ease. "I'm Mister Batson. Here for Billy's contract."

Morris's eyes fell on the photos Billy took of Captain Marvel. He looked at the Mister Batson. Their faces were identical. He struck gold! His new hire's Captain Marvel's son.

"Here's the contract," He gave Mister Batson the document.

The big man flipped through all twenty pages and signed the document. "Done." His dazzling dimpled smile was exactly like Billy's.

"Thank you Mr Batson," Morris shook the big man's hand, wincing at the guy's too strong grip.

"Sorry," mumbled the big man, rubbing the back of his neck absently. "I'll go get Billy."

The man strode out the door.

Thunder crashed once more, accompanied by blinding lightning. This freak weather was getting too much.

The pitter patter of tiny feet heralded the return of his new star reporter, Little Billy Batson, soon to be known as Whiz Kid.

"Hi Mister Morris," squeaked the child. "I'm back. My dad's signed the papers. When can I start?"

"Right away," Morris grinned. "Come in after school every day. I'll wire your salary to your bank account."

"I don't have one," the boy frowned.

"I'll set up one for you then," Morris grinned, ruffling the boy's hair.

The child's eyes caught his attention.

Did lightning flicker in those brilliant blues?