Shortcuts 24

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Shortcuts

A paranormal superhero story with a supernatural twist

Visting, interviewing and escalation

Comments have been blocked for this story but kudos and private messages are always welcome. Even highly critical private messages are welcome. I don't mind criticism when it's private.

Shortcuts
by Terry Volkirch

Chapter 24

The rest of Monday passed by easily enough, gently pushed aside by Tuesday which proved to be a little more eventful. Since the girls no longer had aikido class, they had more free time.

After school, Sarah begged off shopping, causing Erin some concern. They'd both taken the bus to Sarah's stop as part of their new routine but Sarah wanted to go off on her own.

"You worry too much, Erin. I'm just doing something that I promised I'd do. You know me and promises."

The redhead smiled and nodded. "Okay. See you tomorrow at school then?"

"Yeah. See ya later."

Erin did her disappearing mist trick in the park near Sarah's house and Sarah changed into Golden Girl. She wore her black leather outfit without the thermal underwear and took off at full speed. Florida was a long way away, and it was still fairly warm that time of year. She actually looked forward to it, even if she didn't fully trust SuperFan318.

The trip over and down to Florida took longer than expected, with occasional strong headwinds, having to go around mountain ranges to keep from freezing at higher elevations, and a brief but annoying fighter jet escort over eastern Texas when she slowed down too much. She realized her error too late. She kept her route too straight and predictable. That was easily fixed with a burst of speed to the northeast. Nothing man-made could keep up with her top speed and she soon lost her escort and ended up north of her destination. That was fine because she didn't feel like taking a shortcut over the Gulf of Mexico for a more direct line to Tampa.

Thirty five minutes after she took off from home, the superheroine landed near Lake Magdalene north of Tampa, Florida. She spotted the house where SuperFan318 lived and landed to knock on the front door.

She knew he'd be home since she checked ahead of time with her clairvoyance. There was no surprise from her perspective, but she didn't check in with him first. He seemed shocked when he opened the door. He couldn't even say her name, but at least he was eventually able to say his own. It was easy since it was only one syllable.

"Hello Super Fan. Is it safe? Will you behave if I come in?"

He quickly nodded.

"Well? Are you going to invite me in?"

He quickly backed away and gestured for her to enter. She followed him into his small living room with a short, comfortable looking couch and a single, metal folding chair. She sat on the folding chair after she shed her leather jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.

With her legs crossed and the young man behaving himself so far, she relaxed. "And last but not least, do you have a real name?"

"Kyle," he said quietly.

"Well, Kyle, do you have anything to drink? I'm a little thirsty. I flew a long way to get here and it's a little warmer outside than I expected."

"Sure," he said. He got up, raced to the kitchen and just as quickly returned empty-handed. "What would you like?"

"What've ya got?"

He looked confused.

"Don't you know?"

"Sure. But you seem… different."

It was Crystal's turn to look confused. "How so?"

"You're dressed all in black and you seem so… informal."

"Oh, Kyle. How can you not know? I wear different outfits depending on the weather."

He cocked his head. "I guess that makes sense."

"And about being informal. I've been through a lot in the past couple months. I started out a little uptight and I'm just now starting to get used to it all. I'm just starting to be able to relax. I hope that doesn't ruin your expectations."

"Oh! No. It's okay. It's good. I guess that shadow agency gave you some trouble."

"Yeah. Too much trouble. Now about that drink?"

"Oh! Yeah. I've got… uh… water, milk, grape juice, vodka and root beer."

"Vodka? Aren't you a little young for alcohol?"

"What? No! I'm twenty two."

"Ah. Good. I'd hate to have to arrest you," she half joked.

Kyle paled and she took pity on him. "Just kidding. I'll take some grape juice, please. I'm a little too young for alcohol." She smiled.

"Right," he said, looking at her a little warily. He left the living room for a couple minutes and returned with her grape juice and a root beer for himself. He knew better than to drink too much alcohol. He'd been a little drunk when he chatted with her the first time and hadn't stopped regretting it. Other Golden Girl fans still teased him about getting naked.

"Thanks," she said when he handed her the glass.

He went over to the couch, sighed and sat down, taking a sip of root beer and setting it on a coaster on his coffee table in front of the couch. "You said you're too young for alcohol. How old are you?"

"Ah. I don't think I should tell you. Sorry but I don't want anyone to know too many personal details about me."

"Right. Sorry. Your secret identity."

She nodded.

"What can you tell me? Your favorite color?"

She laughed. "Sure. It's blue."

He smiled for the first time since she arrived. "What shade of blue?"

She cocked her head and smiled. "That's an interesting question. I didn't know men could tell one shade of color from another."

"Ha ha," he said with a little sarcasm. "Baby blue? Powder blue? Cerulean? Cornflower? Royal blue? Navy blue? Am I getting warmer?"

"Cornflower blue," she said, smiling again. She was starting to like the young man. "What are you? A fashion designer or something?"

Kyle laughed. "Nothing like that. But I'm into art. I like to paint so I know lots of colors."

"Really? How about showing me some of your paintings?"

He took her to a small room overflowing with the smell of paint and turpentine. The room had a tarp for a floor covering and a small square table full of paintbrushes and little tubes half full of paint. He had several of his works hanging on the wall and several more on the floor. Two partly finished paintings sat on separate easels. All of the paintings were done in a realism style and a couple of landscape paintings having forested hills with snow kissed trees looked especially nice if out of place in Florida. Crystal told him how much she liked his paintings and the young artist blushed.

When they went back out to the living room, he confessed that he knew she was coming to visit him. He heard her sonic boom, and he tried to prepare himself mentally but he didn't believe she'd ever trust him enough to visit.

"You seem like a nice guy. I don't understand why you'd… you know… during our chat."

"I was drunk. And stupid. And I didn't believe you could do everything you said you could. Can we please change the subject now?" He pleaded with his eyes and his voice.

"Yeah." She looked around for something to inspire a change of subject and noticed the television set in the far corner of the room. That made her wonder about something.

"What's your favorite local television station here in Tampa?"

"What? Why would you ask that?"

"Because I think it's time I gave another interview. I'm not very happy with my first one and I want another try."

He gave her the call letters of the station he liked and they looked up its location in Tampa on his computer. She used clairvoyance to scout the city and found it. Then it was time for goodbyes. She drained her glass of grape juice, thanked Kyle for his hospitality, wished him good luck with his art and took off south for Tampa. It was time to nail an interview.

* * *

Golden Girl quietly arrived at the television station in downtown Tampa. She flew to the front doors of the building and floated inside, hovering about a foot off the ground as she asked random people if they might like to interview her. It took an unbelievable fifteen minutes before she was taken seriously and another ten minutes after that before the station manager had the superheroine in her office. The television crew wanted to wait for the top of the hour so they could give their viewers a little advanced notice of the interview. In the meantime, they had about twenty minutes to kill so Crystal and the manager had a little warmup chat.

The newsroom sprawled across the whole tenth floor of the building and consisted mostly of open space. Only the manager's office had walls, though they were glass. Her corner office had two glass walls that she could use to keep a watchful eye on everyone.

The station manager leaned forward in her comfortable black leather chair and owlishly stared at the girl through her bifocals. Her moderately overweight body mostly filled a white blouse and gray slacks. Her gray hair had been tied back in a bun, giving her a decidedly matronly look.

Crystal sat in the good guest chair - the only one of three that was comfortable - on the other side of the desk. She liked the woman immediately. The woman could be her grandmother in another life and she felt like she could tell her almost anything.

"So, dear," the woman began. "Who are you?"

"Excuse me, Ma'am?"

"So formal. I like that. I mean, who are you really? Are you for real?"

"I'm not sure I know how to answer that. I'm a human being, just like you or anyone else, except…."

"Yes? Go on. Except what?"

"I guess I'm special in a certain way. I'm not sure how though. I don't feel special."

The woman quirked an eyebrow.

"I mean I didn't feel special before I got all of these paranormal abilities."

"Is that what they are? Paranormal?"

Crystal nodded. "I guess they are unusual. But they're not why I'm special. I got them because I'm special."

"Come again?"

"Okay. This might sound hard to believe…."

The woman quirked an eyebrow again.

"Right. Everything about me seems hard to believe. Anyway, because I'm special in a certain unknown way, I attracted the attention of two otherworldly beings who made a wager about me. I don't know what the wager is but it has something to do with me being special. They made the wager and they've been helping me and trying to influence me in subtle and not so subtle ways to win their wager, whatever it is. Does any of this make sense? Please tell me it makes sense. Just when I think I understand it, it slips away from me. It's been so frustrating sometimes."

The woman shook her head. "Just when I think I've heard it all."

"You do believe me, don't you?"

"I'm not a psychologist, my dear. It doesn't matter whether or not I believe you. You sound like you believe yourself. You seem very sane. That's the important thing. One thing is certain though. You have amazing abilities, powers if you will. No one can argue with that."

Crystal sighed. "Yeah."

"I take it one or both of these beings you mentioned gave you your abilities?"

"Yes, of course. There's no way anyone can learn so many abilities without help." The girl started crying. She'd told everything to her parents and her future boyfriend, but for some reason, it felt better to confess to a kindly stranger, and she cried tears of relief.

The concerned woman got up and moved around to comfort the girl, starting with a pat on the shoulder. Crystal wasn't satisfied with that so she stood up and hugged the woman, and as the two of them stood there hugging, the manager looked over Crystal's shoulder through the glass walls of her office and winced. Virtually everyone in the newsroom appeared to be brainstorming over questions to ask Golden Girl and it looked like a feeding frenzy of sharks. "Shit," the manager said.

Crystal gasped and gently pushed away.

"Sorry, my dear. It's the nature of my business to push the boundaries of good taste from time to time. Please forgive me."

The girl nodded, and an awkward minute passed between them until the station manager spoke.

"I think I know what makes you special," she quietly told the girl.

"You do?"

The woman nodded. "You must've been told by your friends and family but I don't think it registers with you. I'm sure that's part of what makes you special."

"I don't understand."

"Just, please. Don't ever change."

"That's what one of the otherworldly beings told me."

The woman gave the girl a warm smile. Then she sighed. "I'm going to have to throw you to the wolves soon. Sorry about that. But I have a little advice that I urge you to take."

Crystal gave a faint smile and encouraged the woman to continue with a look.

"Please don't tell your interviewers anything that you just told me. I don't think the world would handle it very well."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Now let's go get you some makeup. I'm afraid you've cried away most of yours."

The girl let out a little squeak and tried to hide her face as she followed the woman to the floor with the television studio and makeup room.

The interview started too soon after that, with the anchors giving a long introduction for their guest. They had to stall to give the girl enough time to finish her makeup. Two minutes into the broadcast, the blonde girl walked in front of the camera and turned to give the viewers a radiant smile. Then, as in her first interview, she levitated a few feet above the floor next to the desk where the two news anchors sat. She sat in a lotus position, floating in mid air to the delight of everyone in the studio.

"Hello," the girl said with much enthusiasm. "Thanks for taking the time to interview me."

The closest anchor to her, a young blonde woman chosen for her good looks, smiled. "Thanks for giving us this interview. This is only your second one. Am I right?"

Crystal nodded. "Yes. I've been a little busy. I haven't had time to give a lot of interviews."

"Yes," the woman continued. "We've all seen your latest escapades. Care to elaborate on what's been going on in Chicago?"

The girl blushed. "Oh. No. I really shouldn't talk about that except to say that it turned out as well as can be expected."

"There won't be any more hostages then?"

"Not by the same men. Can we please change the subject?"

The woman almost frowned but caught herself. "Can you tell us what brings you to Tampa?"

"Oh. Yes. Sure. I came to visit one of my fans. He lives just a little north of here."

"And what is this fan's name?"

"His name is Kyle. He's a very nice young man. He just needs to be careful how much alcohol he consumes."

The anchorwoman shook her head and changed tactics. "Do you have a boyfriend? Is it Kyle?"

"No. Kyle is a just a fan who I met on my fan club website."

"You have a website?"

"Yes. Didn't you know? I didn't actually create the website but I chat with fans once a month or so. I'll be having the website owner add more photos of me along with some personal information, like my favorite color."

The woman had a sour look that she didn't even try to hide. "Are you for real?"

"Why does everyone ask me that?!"

"You seem too good to be true. Literally. Are you even human?!"

Groaning by the crew could be heard in the background. The interview diverged from the planned questions and headed into unknown territory.

"Yes! I'm a human being. I just… I don't know. I don't really want to get into it because I don't exactly understand it myself. I just want to help. I have all of these amazing abilities and I want to help make the world a better place. I feel obligated to use my power to help people."

The other news anchor who sat at the desk, an older man with graying hair cut in. "Excuse me, if I may?"

The blonde anchor gestured for him to continue. She'd already had enough. She was looking for dirt or anything of interest but she couldn't find any flaws in the girl and it frustrated her.

The man gave the girl a warm smile and said, "With great power, comes great responsibility. Is that it?"

"Exactly! I take it you read comics?"

"No. I just do a lot of research." He looked at his partner with disappointment and continued. "Do you read comics then?"

"Occasionally. I do like them. I find some of the superheroes to be good role models. And I admit that I sometimes like the escapism. Real life kind of depresses me sometimes."

"Ah, yes. You've captured a lot of criminals. But you've also helped a lot of innocent people as well. That must be satisfying."

She nodded enthusiastically. "One of my favorite moments was when I rescued a cat named Mister Meow from a tree."

The anchorwoman hid her face in her hands and tried to resist the urge to bang her head on the desk. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. But she didn't interrupt and the camera avoided her.

The man chuckled. "That sounds nice, though I have to agree with my partner here. You almost seem too good to be true. I got that you're human, but as long as we're talking about comic books and the fantastic, I have to ask this. Are you from the future?"

"No," Crystal said slowly. "I'm not." She was clearly uncomfortable with the topic and the sensitive man noticed.

"I'm sorry. It's just that we've all been trying to figure out where you come from and we've got nothing. Can you tell us anything to help us understand your past?"

"Well, I'm not sure if everyone knows this. I only got my superpowers a few months ago and some of that time was spent in training. That's why I didn't appear until recently. I'm not sure why or how I was chosen to receive my powers but as long as I have them, I'm going to use them for good. I don't lie if I can help it and I try my very best to keep all of my promises. That's about all I can tell you."

"Very honorable," the man said. "Very honorable indeed. Since you already mentioned your website, would you like to give out the address?"

She did so and then asked to say one more thing. The anchorman gave her the go-ahead.

"Hi Dad. I love you." She blew the camera a kiss and smiled.

The television station immediately cut to a commercial and everyone in the studio either sighed with relief or gave a little, "Aw." Golden Girl's last words moved at least some of them. Being a father, the anchorman appreciated the sentiment.

* * *

Weeks rolled by and Golden Girl flew between Chicago and her home several times for more reconnaissance missions. Saving the world bored her a little but she found it satisfying, and once she learned several more languages, it kept getting more interesting. She spied on all different parts of the world and saw tiny cross sections of lots of different cultures. The people were all different, with different hair, different personalities, just different.

Trying to understand the reasoning and motivations of such extreme criminals was impossible and that saddened her. All she could do was help to stop it and save potential victims. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't save the criminals. She couldn't save everyone.

The only time she said no to senior agent Wells was around Christmas when a nasty scandal erupted in the nation's Capitol. Golden Girl insisted on having time off to be with her family. Just in case things got too bad, she did agree to check her personal billboard in the agency's office, asking for simple latitude and longitude coordinates and a short note to tell her what to look for. They agreed.

Her third chat session went smoothly, and she added a kind word for SuperFan318, known by her as Kyle, or just K in the chat room. It got other fans to stop teasing him about his first chat session. More importantly, since she shared the chat session in the library with Brian as usual, she got to spend more time with him after the session, chipping away at his stubborn denial of his obvious feelings for her. She knew they'd be good together. Why couldn't he see it? It perplexed and frustrated her to no end but she could see cracks in his emotional armor. The end was near.

One thing concerned Sarah more than anything else. Her father couldn't free himself from his bigoted past and it was killing him. He'd put on an unhealthy amount of weight and looked like he'd aged several years over the past few months.

Susan tried talking to her stressed husband to no avail. No one could stop his slide into his own personal hell. The only things he managed well were his career and his guns. His warped priorities made him think they were the most important way to take care of his family. If only he would let himself talk through his issues with them. Talking to a psychologist wasn't an option. He couldn't risk giving away Golden Girl's secret identity. His only hope was to open up to his family.

Sarah tried talking to him several times. She made sure that he saw the end of her second interview when she gave him a personal message on TV. That only pushed him farther away and she was out of ideas. She needed a man's perspective.

Saturday morning arrived. Time to call Brian.

"Hi Sarah. 'sup?"

"Can you come over?"

"To your house?" He sounded nervous. She'd been coming on strong and he still stubbornly mooned for Golden Girl.

"It's too cold for the park. Come on."

"Is your mom home?"

She sighed. "I'm not going to bite."

"But is she home?"

"No. She's out shopping and you know where my dad is."

"Yeah." Brian knew about her father's worsening obsession with guns.

"Please come over. I need to talk to you about my dad. I want a guy's opinion."

"So ask me now."

She barely suppressed a growl. "It'll be easier in person. Please?"

"I don't know, Sarah."

"I said please!"

"Okay! I'll be over in fifteen minutes or so."

"Thank you."

"Yeah."

The cautious boy hurried over to Sarah's house after changing into some sweaty workout clothes. He thought it would help to fend off the amorous girl. He didn't realize that she loved his natural scent. There was really nothing that she didn't love about him, and he was only starting to understand.

Before he could knock on the front door, Sarah opened it, waited impatiently for him to hang his coat on the coat rack in the entry way and ushered him in to the living room. She pushed him down on the couch and started pacing in front of him, thinking about how to best start the conversation. She tried to focus on her father but the boy was driving her crazy.

Brian watched her closely for over a minute before he startled her with a question. "I understand why you won't let me see Crystal, but could you at least wean me off slowly?"

"I asked you here to help me with my father, not to feed your obsession with Golden Girl."

"What if I said please?"

Her eyes flashed a little anger. "That's playing dirty."

"I can't help how I feel."

"I know." She quickly softened. She was all too aware of his feelings. She had the same problem so she could sympathize. "Tell ya what. You help me with my dad and I'll take you flying tonight. Deal?"

"Can Crystal take me instead?"

"I am Crystal! We're the same person!"

"Oh! Right. Yeah. Deal." He paused for a minute while Sarah went back to pacing and couldn't help asking, "What about changing into Crystal now?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Brian. I want you to focus."

He sighed. "Yeah. Okay. Let's get to it then."

He smiled at her and melted her heart. She had to use her paranormal control ability to stick to the matter at hand. She needed Brian but her father needed her. She had to try.

The two of them threw ideas back and forth to no avail. It always came back to getting Matthew to talk. He wouldn't do that and they couldn't force him. All they could do was watch. It was like watching a train wreck, a horrible chain reaction. They couldn't look away and they couldn't help until the train came to a dead stop. Only then could they move in and try to fix the broken pieces.

She ended their talk by sitting next to him on the couch. They were both perched on the edge of the cushion with her crying on his shoulder while he gently rubbed her back. A small sigh escaped her lips. She wanted to continue to concentrate on helping her father but she couldn't help thinking about Operation Boyfriend.

* * *

Sarah practiced aikido with Erin in the living room on weekends while Matthew was at the shooting range. The gifted girl used her telekinesis to move furniture and clear enough room to practice katas and self-defense. Sarah emphasized stand-alone self-defense techniques. She wanted the practice herself after an incident at school caused her to have to defend herself. A bully went after her, calling her all sorts of vile names and when the names didn't provoke a reaction, he resorted to physical violence.

Bullies were at their worst when she was in a very awkward point of her transition, halfway between boy and girl but not androgynous. Androgynous would be safer than her condition of having a mix of boy and girl features. She could defend herself but it hurt her more than it did the bully who attacked her. All she did to him was keep him in a simple wrist lock and walk him to the principal's office. The boy didn't receive any injuries. She, on the other hand, had the memories of the insults and the intent to harm her. Her faith in humanity continued to waver.

Her previous two television interviews hadn't been planned and hadn't gone as well as she'd liked. She vowed to never have another one and hoped she could stick to that. Promises to herself were the hardest to keep. There wasn't more she could think of to say so interviews would be pointless anyway.

After her one physical altercation with a bully and with her uncomfortable interviews far behind her, Sarah fell into a mostly comfortable routine, doing well at work, making lots of money for shopping, saving some money for college with the help of her mother, who took a cut and socked it away in an undisclosed bank account. Golden Girl could easily find the account but Susan got the girl to make a promise to leave the money alone. It wasn't difficult to get the promise.

Golden Girl's innate goodness did more to influence people for the better than anything else. She was slowly saving the world simply by existing, and it started to upset the forces of darkness. Good and evil were out of balance. Something had to be done, and it was. Six months into the otherworldly wager, Sarah's super life began to fall apart.

* * *

Spring had nearly sprung and Sarah's virtues shined more brightly than ever before. They rubbed off on everyone around her and it drove Mister Guile crazy. After the smitten girl gave Brian a memorable birthday that included a long nighttime flight over the city, the dark being couldn't take it any more.

He found it more and more difficult to contain his anger. He threw everything he had into corrupting every bad seed in Sarah's city, tempting them to commit every crime on the books. If he couldn't get her to learn telepathy, he'd try exhausting her enough to slip up and do something stupid. She was just a girl. Why was it so difficult to corrupt her? He couldn't understand it, just as he couldn't understand why he couldn't get her to learn telepathy. Whenever he tried nudging her to the area of the Akashic records with telepathy, she'd resist. She somehow knew and resisted. It drove him crazy and he ended up leaving her to wander aimlessly through the records on her own. He had to rely on alternative plans to keep himself happy. Unfortunately, none of his earlier plans worked. He was down to two last things to try, one of which he'd already started. That didn't seem to be working either.

As fast as criminals popped up, Golden Girl arrived to stop them and save the day. She also seemed to find time to help runaways, save cats from treetops and more. It literally drove him crazy.

She seemed to bring out the good in everyone, even that shadow agency full of idiots. She genuinely cared for everyone and they all fell for her charms. He couldn't understand any of it. He tried replaying all of their conversations and interactions in his memory and it even seemed like she might care about him. That enraged him more than anything.

"How dare she?!" he fumed while lounging in his dark domain. "I'll show her! I'll teach her to care for a dark being!"

* * *

© 2015 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.

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