The Awakening by Michael Carroll

asked, sounding a little nervous. He pronounced it “Coe-lin.”
    Colin nodded.
    “Hi. My name’s Gene.” He showed Colin an ID card. “I’m going to take you to the shelter. Is that OK?”
    “Thanks,” Colin said, getting to his feet. He was surprised to find that he was taller than Gene. “What did the woman on the phone tell you?”
    “Just that you needed a lift. They tell us only the bare minimum. But you can feel free to talk to me about anything you like. I’m training to be a counselor.”
    They walked out into the parking lot. “You’re not from around here?” Gene asked.
    “No.”
    “That’s fine.”
    Gene’s car was a huge, brand-new sport-utility vehicle. He noticed Colin’s expression. “Nice, isn’t it?”
    “It’s great. My dad’s car is about half this size.” Or was, he added to himself.
    “What sort of mileage does he get?”
    “I’ve no idea.”
    Gene opened the passenger door and let Colin in. “This baby’ll do twelve in the city, maybe sixteen on the open road.”
    “That’s not bad,” Colin said, though he didn’t know whether it really was bad or good.
    Gene climbed into the driver’s seat and put on his belt. “OK, then. Let’s go.”
    They drove out of the parking lot and—after a series of turns and junctions that Colin found completely baffling—onto the freeway. Colin felt weird, sitting in what he felt should be the driver’s seat.
    “So have you been doing this long?” Colin asked. “Helping kids, I mean.”
    “A couple of years,” Gene said. “I took early retirement and needed something to fill my time.” He turned to Colin and smiled. “I’m really only a driver, for the moment. But it’s good work. Very satisfying.”
    “Do you have to pick up many people?”
    “A couple a week. Though it gets a little worse around the holidays. Lot of kids can’t take the pressure at home. That the case with you?”
    “No, not really.”
    “That’s fine.” He paused. “You want to talk about it?”
    “No, sorry.”
    “That’s fine.”
    Colin couldn’t help smiling to himself. Everything seemed to be fine for this man.
    “You celebrate Mystery Day in your part of the world?”
    “We do,” Colin said. “Doesn’t every country?”
    “Yeah, I guess…We had a big parade in Jacksonville, lots of guys dressed up as superheroes. Most of them were Titan, of course. Here’s a story for you: I met him once.”
    “You met Titan?”
    “Sure did. He saved my life. This was…oh, about sixteen years ago. Remember a villain called Terrain?” Before Colin could answer, Gene said, “No, of course you don’t. I forgot. You’re too young to remember him. But you’ve heard about him, right?”
    “I have.”
    “Well, I was working in construction at the time. We were putting up an apartment complex. Expensive place, riverside view and everything. And there I am, working away—I was a plasterer—and the whole damn building begins to shake. We thought, ‘Earthquake!’ and we got out of the building as fast as we could. And outside we saw Terrain and Titan beating the living crap out of each other. Terrain was using his powers to throw cinder blocks and huge chunks of the sidewalk at Titan. Then he saw us standing in front of the building and he made this sort of gesture with his hand…” Gene held up his hand palm out, then clenched his fist and pulled back. “Next thing we know, the whole damn building is coming down. And Titan flies up to us, grabs hold of me and my buddy Carl and pulls us out of the way. We didn’t even get a chance to thank him, because Terrain had split and Titan went after him. Pretty cool, eh?” Gene said.
    “Yeah.”
    “Did you have many superheroes back home?”
    “A couple.”
    “I wish I knew what happened to them. A lot of folks say that they were all killed, but I don’t believe that. They couldn’t’ve all been killed. What about the ones who weren’t in Pittsburgh that day? Why haven’t they shown