Jackson Humes is Not a Superhero

CHAPTER SEVEN

I almost didn't recognize Jesse when I poked my head out of the kitchen. His hair wasn't plastered to his head, his lips weren't coated with gloss, and he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I'd never seen him looking so normal.

"Where's Wendy?" I asked, joining him at a table in the front right next to the window.

He dropped his gaze and fiddled with his notes. "She's not feeling well. We should just get started without her." I was about to complain that it wasn't fair, but he must have sensed this because he said, "Don't worry, I'll do her work as well."

Jesse, Wendy, and I had decided to do a scene where we performed a television-style newscast. We had played with the idea of doing a comedic skit, but we weren't known for being funny. Pulling off comedy in a foreign language seemed beyond our reach, so we settled on delivering the worst possible doom and gloom news we could find, hoping the horribleness of the actual events would provide enough drama to earn us a good grade.

Translating the news ended up being much harder than we had anticipated. Phrases like: A man with a samurai sword went ballistic on the subway in New York, and pop starlet has a meltdown and breaks her leg after jumping off a two-story balcony were incredibly difficult to render, especially since Jesse wouldn't let us use Google Translate. It also didn't help that he was a rather nervous person and kept getting distracted and checking his phone.

At one point after checking his phone, he became so fidgety that he actually stood up to get some fresh air. He didn't actually step outside; instead, he stood in the doorway with the door wide open and took deep, dramatic breaths. I turned toward the counter to make sure my aunt wasn't watching. She would have pitched a fit had she seen all her expensive air-conditioning being let out of the café. When he came back he made us move the table away from the window, explaining that sitting in the sunlight was making him sweat. He also set up a chair for when Wendy joined us. I was beginning to think his nervous disposition was accompanied by a touch of OCD.

We worked for a solid hour before we decided to a short break. I was walking back with some snacks and refills on our iced teas when I noticed Jesse appearing to have a tense conversation with himself. His face went really pale when he realized I had been watching him.

"Who were you talking to?" I asked.

Jesse fiddled with his cell phone on the table. "Oh, I was just recording myself saying the lines out loud. It's something they taught us in drama class. You should try it, it really helps with memorization."

"Wait," I said, a little startled, "you want us to memorize all this?" Students usually just read out loud whatever they had written while half-heartedly acting out the scene.

"If we all go off script, it might help our grade. You know, it'll seem more legit. Also, Wendy and I were thinking maybe we should dress the part. I have a suit I can wear and Wendy says she has a blue pantsuit that makes her look like she's running for president. Maybe you could wear one too?" Jesse must've realized he was throwing me into a tailspin because he quickly added, "Just for class. It's not like you have to walk around in one all day. And that's only if you want. But, I really think it'll help our grade."

They were turning our simple Spanish project into Shakespeare in the Park. Giving a presentation with all three of us dressed up would basically provide the class with more ammo against me than they'd gotten in years. The jokes would write themselves; that is, if Jesse and Wendy didn't end up penning the script for that as well.

The little bell over the front door dinged as a tall, lanky white guy with a peach fuzz beard and long hair the color of moss burst into the café. Shannon resembled a young version of Jesus, though I doubt that Jesus would have had bloodshot eyes and smelled so powerfully of weed. He stopped right in front of me and nodded but didn't actually say any words.

"Can I help you?" I asked nervously.

I could tell he didn't know what to do next. He shoved his hand in his pocket and fiddled with something. Whatever it was seemed to calm him down a bit because he leaned over and whispered in my ear. "It's about Marv. He needs your help. My car is parked around the corner. I'll wait for you there." With those few words that didn't really explain anything, he slowly backed away from me and ran out the door.

"Well that was a bit strange," Jesse said, watching Shannon retreat back to his car through the large front window. "What did he want?"

"Uh, it's time for my guitar lesson." It was the only believable thing that popped into my head. "It was supposed to be later today, but I guess something's come up. Is it okay if we finish for today?"

"That's fine. I'll text Wendy our notes and have her do the rest. Should we meet here at the same time tomorrow?"

"Sure."

He continued to talk about our project, but I was hardly listening anymore, too worried about what kind of trouble Marv might have gotten himself into.

"Maybe you should bring your guitar. We can try to work it into the skit. Maybe you can come up with the opening theme music. I can help you write it!"

That got my attention. "What?"

He smiled really big. A dimple appeared on his cheek. "I'm just kidding. I just wanted to make sure you were paying attention."

Someone impatiently honked a horn outside several times.

"Yes. Here. Tomorrow. No guitar." I sounded demented.

Shannon was sitting in a gray beat up Honda Civic covered in an abundance of stickers of rock bands I had never heard of. The interior of his car was very untidy with fast food bags and cups thrown everywhere. There was a small mountain buried underneath several dirty blankets taking up both seats in the back. The mountain shifted slightly. I reached over to pull the blanket back, but Shannon stopped me.

"DO NOT LOOK UNDER THERE!" He grabbed my hand and pulled it away.

"Jesus, okay," I clutched my pounding chest, "you didn't have to scare me half to death."

Shannon pulled out of the parking space and raced down the street, slamming on the brakes when he noticed the stop sign. I heard Marv's muffled complaints coming from the back.

"How did you know where to find me?" I asked.

"We went to your house and bumped into your brother as he was leaving. He said you would be at the café." He gestured to the back seat with a sideways dip of his chin, "So you can really understand what he's saying?"

"Yes. You should turn left here, it's faster."

Shannon made a very sharp turn, knocking Marv around in the back seat. "Tell him to watch it!"

"He said to be careful," I translated.

Shannon's face had a greenish tint to it, a shade that almost perfectly matched his hair. I wondered what he heard when Marv spoke.

When he pulled into my aunt's driveway, I said, "We'll have to get out here. The garage is packed with boxes and stuff."

Shannon jumped out of the car and left his key in the ignition. I pulled them out for him and got out as well. He ran around to the front of the car and was pointing a shaky finger at the lump in the back seat. "You can't have that thing walking around in public."

"No one is going to see him." I tried to calm him down.

There wasn't a soul in sight, and Mr. Saltzman wouldn't be walking his dog until later in the evening. I knew this because you could set a watch to the old man's dog walking schedule.

I opened up the back door and pulled the blanket off of Marv. I yelped when I saw two large reptile eyes blinking up at me. Marv's massive body shifted under the blankets. He awkwardly made his way out of the car. He wasn't Marv the mountain lion anymore. He was Marv the extinct velociraptor.