Superpowers: A Novel by David J. Schwartz

Author:David J. Schwartz
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Humorous, General, Action & Adventure, Fiction
ISBN: 0099516101
Publisher: Crown
Published: 2008-06-10T07:00:00+00:00

FRIDAY

Jack drove with the windows open and no radio. He liked to listen to the morning sounds. The residential streets were nearly silent; lazy wind chimes and early-risen birds made soft, musical sounds, but most of the alarm clocks and automatic coffee machines would make no sound for three hours yet.

He left the truck running at the end of the block. He retied his shoes and loaded a few dozen newspapers into his bag. A dog barked in its sleep.

Jack shut the door of the truck, strapped his watch to the rearview mirror, pressed the button to start the stopwatch, and took off running.

Now the silence was complete, except for the sound of his breathing and his heart. Five blocks, down and back. Thirty-five newspapers. When he got back to the truck the stopwatch was just turning over to one-hundredth of a second.

He climbed in the truck and pulled up to the next block. There were two apartment buildings on this street, and he had a key for the outer doors. Forty-six papers. It took him fourteen seconds, most of which he spent unlocking the doors without destroying the keys. The next street was a short one, and he didn't even set the stopwatch. He drove to the last route.

The distribution manager had started him out with four routes. He said that was all anyone had ever been able to finish in time. The first night Jack had done the routes, gassed up the truck, eaten a big meal at Perkins, and taken a nap in his truck before going back to the warehouse. He stayed there with the manager until eight in the morning just to show him that he had plenty of time left over for more routes. When there were no complaints, the manager gave Jack two more routes, saying that was all he thought was humanly possible. Jack didn't argue. He didn't want to arouse any suspicion.

Today he was taking his time between routes, breathing the morning air and pretending that there was nothing to think about. When he started to think he thought about food: rare, juicy steaks, peppery mashed potatoes, warm apple pie. Sometimes he dreamed about food now. He was losing weight; his mom had noticed. He had told her he was worried about summer finals, which wasn't true. He had more time to study than he knew what to do with; he'd read his texts three times or more, and the only thing tricky about the tests was writing slowly enough not to attract any attention.

The last paper route was all apartment buildings. The tricky thing was carrying all the papers—seventy-two in one building alone—but he just stacked them near the inside door and went back when he ran out. The route took him twelve minutes, most of which was driving between buildings. Altogether, the six routes had taken him forty-seven minutes. He drove to Perkins, picked out one of the extra papers, and brought it inside.

The waitress's smile faded as he

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