you when your mother worked.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Jenny’s bloodied hands pressed against a seeping wound in Howie’s chest. He wasn’t dead, at least. He moaned and stirred under the ministration.
“Why wouldn’t I understand?”
“You don’t know what it’s like! You’ve both got jobs. You can afford a vacation in Europe. My dad lost his job a year ago and my mother’s only got half the hours she used to have. We’re going to lose the house. We can barely keep food on the table. We can’t afford a new cheerleader’s uniform for me. You’re the one who insisted to the school board that the team needs new uniforms. You can pay for mine.”
“I had no idea.” Mrs. Zimmer stared at the blood with widened eyes and held her hands fisted in her skirt.
“You didn’t want to know. You could have figured it out easy enough if you paid attention.” Jenny spoke over her shoulder. She bent forward across Howie, brown hair veiling her face.
Greg hadn’t noticed the sound until now, but the wail of sirens grew louder. Two injured men, one bound felon, two emotional women. The last item filled him with more dismay than the rest combined. This situation had moved beyond the scope of superhero duty. Greg scanned the room with his x-ray vision, making sure the weapons were accounted for.
“Will you be all right now, ma’am?” He took a step back toward the broken window.
“Do you plan any more mischief?” Mrs. Zimmer asked the girl.
“I have to stay with Howie,” Jenny answered with a look of resignation.
“We’ll be all right.” The older woman told Greg. “Thank you for stepping in.” Her gaze strayed to the broken window frame. “Oh no. What am I supposed to tell the insurance people?”
Greg made his exit before he’d have to answer. The ambulance and police cars pulled up in front of the house as he jumped out the window and flew up and away out the back. The clear cold air slapped his face, breaking him free of the spell of confusion.
He hadn’t meant for Howie to be shot. He shouldn’t feel so guilty. He hadn’t pulled the trigger. Except, if he’d just held still, the bullet to his back wouldn’t have done any harm. Come to think of it, that girl might never have staged a break-in if her family wasn’t desperate, if her accomplices weren’t stupid enough to go along with her or if she’d had some guidance. No one would have been hurt if the Zimmers had left according to plan. The lines between criminal and victims were supposed to be more clear-cut. He told himself he’d done his part, but left feeling as if nothing at all had been settled.
* * * *
When Gloria got home from work, she stopped first at Aggie’s without waiting to change out of her business-appropriate blouse and blazer over her neat black skirt. She’d long been in the habit of going to Aggie’s before going home. It had to be a carryover from her middle school days when Dad had still been working and didn’t want her returning to an empty house. Back when he’d managed to lay off the drink until he got home, before his injury.
It had been a good arrangement then, and it still worked now. Aggie seldom went out in the afternoons, and when she did it took planning, making it an event Gloria always heard of well in advance. She could count on Aggie to be there, count on a welcome at the cluttered worktable where they’d shared countless projects over the years. They’d made everything from crocheted can holders and fingerless gloves, to ceramic whistles, to the current designer cell phone holsters, one of Gloria’s own ideas.
Her mentor did twice the work on the business end of things as Gloria did. She didn’t have to keep a regular day job, and had more time for it. Aggie was the one who had found their team of piecework seamstresses, recruiting at the senior center when they started getting more orders than the two of them could fill on their own.
“Hullo-oh” Gloria began speaking at
“You wouldn’t understand.” Jenny’s bloodied hands pressed against a seeping wound in Howie’s chest. He wasn’t dead, at least. He moaned and stirred under the ministration.
“Why wouldn’t I understand?”
“You don’t know what it’s like! You’ve both got jobs. You can afford a vacation in Europe. My dad lost his job a year ago and my mother’s only got half the hours she used to have. We’re going to lose the house. We can barely keep food on the table. We can’t afford a new cheerleader’s uniform for me. You’re the one who insisted to the school board that the team needs new uniforms. You can pay for mine.”
“I had no idea.” Mrs. Zimmer stared at the blood with widened eyes and held her hands fisted in her skirt.
“You didn’t want to know. You could have figured it out easy enough if you paid attention.” Jenny spoke over her shoulder. She bent forward across Howie, brown hair veiling her face.
Greg hadn’t noticed the sound until now, but the wail of sirens grew louder. Two injured men, one bound felon, two emotional women. The last item filled him with more dismay than the rest combined. This situation had moved beyond the scope of superhero duty. Greg scanned the room with his x-ray vision, making sure the weapons were accounted for.
“Will you be all right now, ma’am?” He took a step back toward the broken window.
“Do you plan any more mischief?” Mrs. Zimmer asked the girl.
“I have to stay with Howie,” Jenny answered with a look of resignation.
“We’ll be all right.” The older woman told Greg. “Thank you for stepping in.” Her gaze strayed to the broken window frame. “Oh no. What am I supposed to tell the insurance people?”
Greg made his exit before he’d have to answer. The ambulance and police cars pulled up in front of the house as he jumped out the window and flew up and away out the back. The clear cold air slapped his face, breaking him free of the spell of confusion.
He hadn’t meant for Howie to be shot. He shouldn’t feel so guilty. He hadn’t pulled the trigger. Except, if he’d just held still, the bullet to his back wouldn’t have done any harm. Come to think of it, that girl might never have staged a break-in if her family wasn’t desperate, if her accomplices weren’t stupid enough to go along with her or if she’d had some guidance. No one would have been hurt if the Zimmers had left according to plan. The lines between criminal and victims were supposed to be more clear-cut. He told himself he’d done his part, but left feeling as if nothing at all had been settled.
* * * *
When Gloria got home from work, she stopped first at Aggie’s without waiting to change out of her business-appropriate blouse and blazer over her neat black skirt. She’d long been in the habit of going to Aggie’s before going home. It had to be a carryover from her middle school days when Dad had still been working and didn’t want her returning to an empty house. Back when he’d managed to lay off the drink until he got home, before his injury.
It had been a good arrangement then, and it still worked now. Aggie seldom went out in the afternoons, and when she did it took planning, making it an event Gloria always heard of well in advance. She could count on Aggie to be there, count on a welcome at the cluttered worktable where they’d shared countless projects over the years. They’d made everything from crocheted can holders and fingerless gloves, to ceramic whistles, to the current designer cell phone holsters, one of Gloria’s own ideas.
Her mentor did twice the work on the business end of things as Gloria did. She didn’t have to keep a regular day job, and had more time for it. Aggie was the one who had found their team of piecework seamstresses, recruiting at the senior center when they started getting more orders than the two of them could fill on their own.
“Hullo-oh” Gloria began speaking at
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