Jackson Humes is Not a Superhero

CHAPTER ONE

By the time I hit the dusty, uneven trail, my lungs were burning and my legs had turned to Jell-O. I knew as long as I remained on the path I was an open target, so I dashed up the steep hill as fast as I could. Unlike the movies where ninjas run through the forest in silence, I was making more noise than a fourth of July fireworks show. I might as well have had a rainbow-colored arrow flashing above my head.

I'd been running for a solid five minutes and was beginning to lose steam when Alex materialized out of nowhere and slammed me against a tree. My left shoulder exploded with pain as I fell to the ground in a daze. I tried to scurry away, but he grabbed a fistful of my shirt, hoisted me to my feet like a rag doll, and slammed me into the tree again. I heard the stitching on my new shirt tear and felt inappropriate concern over its condition.

Up close, Alex was even uglier than I had imagined. The sophomore's eyes, nose, and mouth appeared as if they had never quite fully caught up to his expanding potato-shaped head—perhaps that's the reason he always looked so damn angry all of the time. I tried explaining it was all one colossal misunderstanding, but my lungs were too busy expanding with air to let any words come out.

He aimed a giant fist directly at my head and said, "This is what you get for being a pervert, faggot."

What happened next is a little hard to explain. At some point I must have shut my eyes because all I registered was a loud roar, someone screaming bloody murder, a strong gust of wind, and something solid knock me on the top of the head. When I opened my eyes, I found myself hovering ten feet above the ground.

I somehow had the presence of mind to grab a branch within reach and pulled myself up. I was still trying to process how the hell I'd gotten up into the tree so fast when I noticed Alex holding a bloodied fist to his chest looking positively terrified.

"SC-SC-SCRAM!" he shouted, backing up slowly.

That's when I noticed an impossibly large mountain lion inching his way towards him. I frantically scanned my surroundings for an escape route, but there was nowhere to go but down. I tried to remember everything I had ever learned about mountain lions from the nature shows I'd watched throughout the years, but blinding fear had made my mind go blank. The only fact I could vividly recall was that all cats had the ability to climb trees.

Before I could figure out what to do next, the mountain lion leapt through the air in a flash of tawny fur and pinned the wrestler to the ground with a set of powerful paws the size of dinner plates.

Alex's feet flailed wildly, kicking up clouds of dust and dirt into the air, as he tried to shove the big cat off of him. I wanted to look away as he screamed for help, but I was glued to the grisly scene below me. The giant cat was mere inches away from tearing off his face when Alex caught it by surprise by punching it on the nose.

The two tumbled over one another, and in all of the confusion Alex was able to untangle himself from the large beast and regain his footing. He grabbed a fistful of dirt from the ground, hurled it at the mountain lion, and took off in the direction of our school. It all happened so fast I was left a little stunned by what I had just witnessed, especially when the mountain lion decided not to chase after his prey and instead looked directly at me with bright blue eyes.

It's not an exaggeration to say that the entire forest fell silent. My life didn't flash before my eyes, but my body did start moving with a mind of its own. I held onto the branch tightly with one arm while I used my free arm to slip off my backpack. I sat up carefully and was somehow able to balance on the shaky branch while I took aim. I threw my backpack directly at the wild animal, hoping to scare it away, but it missed its mark by a good three feet. Sports were really not my forte.

There was an uneaten apple inside, which he must have sniffed out because he tore into my bag with two slashes of his powerful claws and devoured it whole. As I watched him lick his muzzle clean, I imagined the same scenario would play out if he managed to get a hold of one of my limbs. I started shaking uncontrollably and did the only thing I could think of to do.

"HEEEEEEELP!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. "SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!"

Instead of running away from all of the shouting, the mountain lion plopped down on his back haunches, shook his head at me, and said in a clear yet gravelly voice. "Stop screaming, I'm not going to hurt you."

I was so dumbfounded I was rendered mute for a moment. Had I just imagined the mountain lion had talked or was I in the middle of a psychotic break? Seconds ticked by while my mind raced with all sorts of possibilities, each one more implausible than the next. I waited for it to say something else, but after a minute or two it lost interest in me and started walking back into the woods.

"Wait," I called out. He whipped his head around and looked up at me quizzically. It was an odd expression on a mountain lion, even a talking one. My throat was bone dry, but I somehow managed to get the words out. "Can you really talk?"

There was no doubt about it; the mountain lion was clearly taken aback. "You can understand me?"

I hadn't really expected a response and found myself nodding to his question, too shocked to speak. He ran up to the tree and stood on his hind legs, resting his front paws against the trunk. I pulled my dangling feet away from him and carefully stood up. The branch I was standing on let out a distinct crack that didn't bode well for my future, so I inched back slowly toward the massive trunk and attempted to wrap both arms and one leg around it to keep the sagging branch from breaking.

"You can really understand what I'm saying?" This was apparently a huge game changer as far as the mountain lion was concerned. I nodded again, afraid to say anything that might agitate him any further and compel him to climb up the tree. His long tail swished back and forth, reminding me of an agitated house cat. "Come down here," he said in a rush, "I need your help."

I shook my head and gripped the trunk a little harder. This was not how I had imagined my day ending. Amy and I had planned on auditioning for the school musical. I couldn't sing or dance very well, and Amy was wheelchair bound, but we'd both seen our school's production of Cats the previous year and had realized the talent pool was extremely shallow.

"Oh come on," the mountain lion whined, "it's not like I'm going to eat you or anything." Those were definitely not the encouraging words I would have chosen to say to someone stuck in a tree, terrified for his life. "Listen," he explained. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I'm not a mountain lion."

Since it was starting to become obvious that the talking animal wasn't going to leave me alone any time soon, I decided to humor him. "Okay, what are you?"

"It's me," he said, as if I should have figured it out, "Marv Morgan."

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Welcome to the first thing I've ever written! I want to thank and hear from everyone who just read the first chapter of my story. I am open to comments both negative and positive and hope you enjoy reading about Jackson as much as I have enjoyed writing about him.

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