Villains Rise

Chapter 21 -- I'm tired of alleys

My skin crawls at the thought of dying in the fire. Losing Jonas would have been horrific. It was miraculous that I was able to beat my record that day.

I plop down in a seat by the Teen Fiction aisle. I'm visible now, but the second I see a sketchy figure, I'm going right back into hiding. The only way I can flip through the pages of this photo album is to make it and myself visible. So hopefully no one will come in here.

It's a public library and it's seven a.m. I have nothing to worry about.

A quiet hum of the florescent light above me is enough to keep my senses alert. I run my hand across the cream colored photo album before I open it. My hand comes up covered in dust. When was the last time this was opened?

My fingers flip open the book, but I don't exactly know who I'm looking for. Maybe some of these Polaroid pictures will have a description on the back. I skim through the pages to see mostly pictures of my mom at a young age. It's astonishing how much I look like her.

As I flip the pages, I see less pictures of her and more pictures of her double identity Titania. It's all newspaper clippings. While I don't bother reading the articles written about her, I flip ahead to see her graduation picture. It's my mom and some guy that looks a few years younger. I know it's not dad because he wasn't that much younger than mom. Mom and dad graduated together.

I take the picture out of the album in a panic and turn it over. Their names are scribbled in cursive handwriting on the back: Audrey and Travis. The year is 1993, 25 years ago. I slip the picture back inside the book and continue to move forward. Another graduation is the next time I see his face. He's the graduate this time. That's the end of the photo album.

The second photo album is filled with mom and dad's wedding pictures. I eagerly dive into this album, knowing I've seen all of these photos and flipped through these pages many times. Now I'm looking for my uncle. Mom never pointed him out. He has to be in here, right?

Mom and dad look incredibly happy, but I find mom seems distracted in some pictures. Their wedding was in 1998, and two years later Mason was born. Perhaps she knew that she couldn't have a normal life if she continued to be a super. Maybe that's why she seems to be occupied with something else. Believe me, it's not an obvious facial expression. I can pick up on it because I've seen it written across my own face.

In all of these pictures, I can't put my finger on any guy that looks like my Uncle Travis. Was there that much bad blood between my mom and uncle that he didn't even come to the wedding?

Or is there another reason mom has left him out of most of her photo albums?

I hop out of my chair to an empty computer desk. Quickly logging on, I catch the old librarian lady with short gray hair eyeing me suspiciously. I look down to make sure I'm not wearing my super suit. Whew! Everything happened so fast at home I thought that there was a chance I forgot to change.

Travis Roush. I type the name into the Google search bar. Maybe he has Facebook, or Instagram, or some form of social media for me to contact him. It takes me several minutes of scrolling and clicking on numerous Travis Roush profiles. Finally, I find a picture that seems to resemble my uncle the most, but I can't be certain. The only picture I have to go off of is 22 years old. It appears he lives about an hour away, which is closer than most of the other profiles. As I scroll through his public profile, I come across a remarkable picture that, in all honesty, I didn't expect to find.

But here it is, clear as crystal. A picture of my Uncle Travis and his wife with their son Gavin Roush. The boy I saw in jail the other day.

My cousin is a criminal?