Just Cause Universe 3: Day of the Destroyer by Ian Thomas Healy Page A

are you going to stop lying to us and ditching school?”
    “I ain’t lying.” He felt blood rushing to his cheeks and ears.
    “Oh, Harlan. You’re such a bright kid. I really hate to see you wasting yourself this way. You ought to be getting straight As so you can go to college. A real college, like M.I.T. or something. Someplace that’s for people like you who design and build things.”
    Harlan kicked the bottom of the pay phone post. “School is stupid. Everyone hates me. Even the teachers.”
    “Except your girlfriend?”
    “She ain’t my girlfriend. Well, not exactly.”
    “It’s okay, Harlan. I understand. I brought you two passes to come visit headquarters. Do you know when you want to come? I’ll see if I can show you around, even though I’m still brand new myself.”
    “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ll have to see when Momma will let me go.”
    “She’s going to want to know about your grades,” said Irlene.
    “This is for extra credit. It’ll bring my grades up.”
    Irlene didn’t look convinced, but she said, “All right, Harlan. Just a moment.” She flew from the top of the pay phone and grew downward until she was her normal size. She fished two cards from her pocket and handed them to him. He seized them and looked carefully at the neat block printing. Just Cause Visitor Pass. Beneath that was a blank space for a name and at the bottom was Pony Girl’s signature. Harlan tucked both passes into his deepest pocket. These were treasures, worth more than gold or diamonds to him.
    They would make Gretchen like him.
    “Thanks, Irlene.”
    Irlene reached out and ruffled his hair. “You’re family, Harlan, and I love you. I’d do anything to help you that I could.”
    He ducked away from her touch. She lowered her hand, knowing she’d crossed a line somewhere. A hint of tears glistened in her eyes. He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Thanks for the passes, Irlene.”
    “You’re welcome, Harlan.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but he started to glance around, hoping she’d get the message that he didn’t want to be seen with her. “I’d better get going. I might not be home tonight. Tell Momma for me.”
    “Okay.”
    Irlene shrank back down, circled Harlan once like a moth around a light bulb, and then flew off into the broiling sun.
    “So… Greasy thinks he’s good enough for superheroes, huh?” A voice like a crow cawing jarred Harlan out of his thoughts. He spun around to see four boys from the school approaching from across the street. They must have been lurking around the record store there and seen the whole thing with Irlene. They called him Greasy and Pig Pen when they felt like picking on him. They must have felt they needed some afternoon entertainment. He started to edge toward his bicycle.
    “What’s the matter, Greasy? Too good to hang out with us anymore?”
    “Maybe he’s gonna run home to his mommy,” teased another boy.
    “She ought to teach him how to take a bath.”
    One of the boys wrested the bicycle out of Harlan’s hands and hopped onto it. “Hey, look at me!” he called. “I’m Greasy Washington. I’m too cool for school because I know a superhero.” He leaped off the bike and swung it viciously against the curb. The old frame folded. The other boys’ raucous laughter echoed around Harlan. “Oh no, I done broke my bike! Good thing I’m Greasy, because I can just slide on home.”
    Rough hands shoved Harlan from behind. Another boy caught him, spun him around, and shoved back. “So you know a superhero, boy? You got parapowers too, boy? Can you fly? Fly, Greasy, fly!” A hard push knocked him to the ground and Harlan yelped as his wrist banged painfully off the cement.
    “Guess he can’t fly,” said the boy who’d shoved him, eliciting more laughter from the others. The one who’d trashed his bicycle kicked it until something broke loose.
    The sight of the piece whirling away into the street sent Harlan into a murderous