Auxiliary Hero Corps 1 (Superheroes Of The Hero Union Corps) by Anderson Charles Eugene

Author:Anderson, Charles Eugene [Anderson, Charles Eugene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CAB - Charles Anderson Books
Published: 2014-07-24T22:00:00+00:00

*

For the next few weeks, Smokey and I continue to have our nightly meeting at the Templeton. He usually orders the largest breakfast on the menu: eggs, potatoes, bacon, sausage, pancakes, and toast. I’m always eager to get started on our nighttime search, but I make sure I eat. Without Daphnia, the two of us aren’t a match for the Beat. The Auxiliary Corps’ bureaucrats keep promising a replacement for Daphnia, and I can tell Smokey is getting tired of no one showing up to take her place.

The two of us go out as soon as we’re finished eating. We head to our usual meeting place, where we’ll wait for Hippie. Tonight’s meeting place is Hester Park, on the northwest corner next to the Japanese teahouse. The Hippie doesn’t have a cell phone, so we’ll wait for him as long as it takes. With his help, the three of us will be a match for the Beat.

Or at least I hope we will be.

I say, trying to make a joke, “Of course, I get stuck with you and the Hippie, and neither one of you has a cell phone. This would be so much simpler if the two of you would embrace the twenty-first century. It isn’t 1963, you know. There aren’t any telephone booths around anymore.”

Smokey doesn’t respond right away. Then he says, “To tell you the truth, it never seemed important to me to get a cell phone. Who would I call? You? I talk to you every night. I guess I could have one so I could ring the Corps when I needed to.” He pauses. “Nope, even that’s a bad idea, because they’ll be calling me every two minutes, always wanting something stupid. Or even worse, the Corps would want constant updates on our location.”

“Maybe it isn’t so bad for you, Smokey. But you know, these days, every normal, well-adjusted person knows they need one.” I sigh. “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with this old argument. I know I’m not going to change your mind, and I shouldn’t say anything.”

Maybe the Beat knows we’re out there looking for him, because when the three of us are together there’s no sign of him. Every night, no luck. I don’t understand the mind of a villain of his caliber, I just know that he’s either remaining in hiding or has gone totally off our radar. Everywhere we look, the trail has grown cold. There’s nothing for us to follow.

“I don’t know,” says Smokey. “You know, I’m getting hungry and I think I actually may have told Hippie to meet us at Tim Hortons.”

The doughnut shop is across the street from the main library on Robson Street. It’s a few blocks from the park, and I don’t say anything because this isn’t the first time this has happened.

“You just ate, and I’m going to buy you a smartphone for Christmas,” I say. “You could text, call people, and organize your life, dude, and we wouldn’t have messes like this, and you could remember things.

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