Debut

by
Nathan C. Weber

    She wasn't sure where she got the idea from.  Perhaps, she had watched too much television or seen too many movies.  Yet, Persia Whitmore was not one to turn down an opportunity when it stared her in the face.  With the new abilities she had been manifesting, Persia decided that she could be a superhero.  After all, what did one do with abnormal strength and an ability to fly?  Such things were certainly being wasted away in the candy industry.

    The problem was how to go about it.  You couldn't exactly take a trip down to the public library and look for a book on how to be a superhero.  Another problem was discipline.  It was pretty well known that heroes are meant to have a pretty high moral standard.  Persia considered her moral values to be pedestrian at best.  Still, she wasn't exactly evil or criminal in any way.  Rude, perhaps, but there was no crime against that, and while it may seem evil to the person who is being victimized by rudeness, it really only boils down to tactlessness.

    "Well, nobody's perfect," said Persia.

    Her other problem was her temper.  She didn't exactly have a short fuse, but when riled, Persia could be viscous.  Not exactly the kind of thing you want when you have incredible strength.  She would have to work on it.  It was amazing how much self analysis her decision had caused.

    "Perhaps, this is what I've been needing," said Persia to herself.  "My folks have always been saying that I don't take responsibility for my actions.  Maybe now is when I can prove that I really can be responsible."

    Her next task was to pick a name.  Persia sat at the dining table with a pencil and a notebook.  Several names had already been considered and rejected.  Super Kat, Mighty Kat, Power Kat, and others had been written out and then crossed off.

    "I need a name that describes what I am," said Persia.

    She thought about how Will had described the omega radioisotope that had given her these amazing powers.  "An isotope is an atom with the same number of protons and electrons but different number neutrons," said Will.  "You've heard of Carbon 14 dating, right?  Well, a carbon atom normally has six protons, six electrons and six neutron.  Carbon 14 is an isotope of regular carbon.  It has six protons, six electrons and eight neutrons.  Isotopes are considered radioactive because the atoms generally want to return to their more stable form."

    That was it.  The key to her new persona had to do with isotopes and radioactivity.  Persia wrote down Atomic Kat in the notebook.  She looked at it for a moment.  It still wasn't right.

    "It sounds too, masculine," said Persia.  She erased the word Kat and wrote in its place Kitten.  "Hmmm, needs more appeal."  She erased the 'EN' off of Kitten and replaced it with a 'Y.'

    Persia sat back and stared at the name.  "That's it," she said with some surprise.  "That's what I'll call myself."

    At first, she worried that the name was too cutesy.  "What the hell," she said, "after all, I am cute!"  Her statement reminded her that she needed to work on her modesty, too.

    The next step in the hero building process was to develop a costume.  Persia didn't know why, but heroes always dressed in tight costumes of primary colors.  Still, she was game to give it a try.  Persia discovered early on that her drafting skills were less then acceptable, so, she turned to the growing pile of clothing catalogs that she received in the mail.  She didn't know how all these people got a hold of her name and address, but at the moment, she was glad that there was such a large selection.  She was able to narrow her search down to sports wear.  There were several Spandex and Lycra outfits that women wore during exercise.  One such outfit really took her fancy.  It was a bright red halter which came down to just above the midriff.  A matching pair of stretch shorts with a yellow waistband completed the outfit.

    "I'll need shoes to go with this," mused Persia.

    She contemplated wearing boots, but she didn't like the idea of wearing heels.  All of the boots she saw had heels two inches or taller, and none of them were the right color.  Then, she came across a catalog selling costumes for dancers.

    "Now, how'd they figure I'd be interested in this?" wondered Persia.  "I've never taken a dance lesson in my life."

    Even so, she flipped half-heartedly through the catalog until she came across a pair of red ballet shoes.  Persia studied the picture for a moment.

    "That's what I need," she exclaimed excitedly.  "A pair of shoes like this."

    She set the dance catalog aside, keeping it open to the page with the red ballet shoes.  Sorting through the catalogs for every conceivable type of shoe, Persia eventually came across a pair of red, heelless slip-ons.  They looked somewhat like moccasins, but bore a more striking resemblance to the ballet shoes.  The soles were made of rubber.  The catalog called them deck shoes, apparently because people wore them on boats.

    "Perfect," said Persia.  "I was worried they'd have leather soles.  I'd slip and fall on my ass if I wore leather soles."

    Also during her hunt, she came across a pair of yellow cotton gloves that were the same color as the waistband on the stretch shorts.  Persia considered them to be an accessory worth having.  She set the three catalogs aside and cleaned up the mess she had generated in the middle of her living room.  Then she went to the phone and ordered each of the items she wanted.  She bought two sets of everything in case she needed spares and she couldn't find replacements readily.  She nearly blanched at the total cost.  Still, she felt it was worth the expense, and she knew she could cover the cost of the bills well enough.

    Not for the first time, Persia contemplated why she was doing all this.  More to the point, she was torn over whether she should tell Will or not.  Somehow, she was pretty sure he would frown on her superheroing ideas.  Will was a cautious and logical individual, due mostly to the nature of his job at the Advanced Atomic Research Laboratory.  On the other hand, Will had a pretty vivid imagination.  Something he rarely showed to most people.

    Persia had made up her mind.  She would tell Will her plans.

* * *

    The portly orangutan shuffled about her office, collecting papers and file folders from different cabinets.  Some papers came from the large pile on her desk.  Everything she collected she placed into an accordion folder and fastened the string closure.

    "Well, I think that's everything," said Dr. Malinda Mendez.

    "Thanks, doctor," said Will Green.  He took the accordion folder from the Dr. Mendez.  "I really think this is the best thing."

    "Normally, I'd be against the destruction of company records, but in this case, I'd have to say I agree with you," said Dr. Mendez.  "I can imagine what kind of insane research would go on were it to get out that the omega isotope could create superhumans.  How's Persia taking things?"

    "I'm not sure," said Will a trifle concerned.  "She been acting...odd lately."

    "You mean she not like herself?" asked Dr. Mendez.

    "No, nothing that obvious," said Will shaking his head.  "I mean she seems normal, but she been interested in watching action films lately.  She's always said she doesn't like action films."

    Dr. Mendez blinked.  "Hmmm," she mused, "don't be surprised if she wants to talk to you about something really important in the near future, Will."

    "What?  What do you mean?" asked Will.  His eyes narrowed.  "Is there something you're not telling me?"

    "If there's something I'm not telling you, then there's a damn good reason not to tell you," said Mendez warningly.  Her expression softened.  "But, no, I don't know anything.  However, I can make some pretty good suppositions.  Just remember, Persia is going through some life altering changes.  You can't really know what's that's like.  Just try to be supportive, okay?"

    Will smiled.  "Sure, Dr. Mendez."

    Will left the clinic with the folder full of documents and headed back to his office.  The omega isotope project had been scrapped until a board hearing could be convened.  Will, however, was taking no chances.  He made sure no one found out about his studies on the effects of the isotope on living tissue.  If they did, some ambitious, warmongering politician would no doubt fund research into creating super soldiers.  Even though they were a private company, they were heavily funded by the government.

    It was not a pleasant thought.  The death toll from any research would be astronomically high, but even worse would be the successes.  It wouldn't take a great leap for some enhanced person to suddenly realize that he was more powerful than the people who were in charge of the program.  Will could think of nothing worse than a rogue super soldier.

    Will wondered how these changes were affecting Persia.  He didn't think she'd go bananas or anything, but anyone was susceptible to temptation.  He was afraid of broaching the subject with her because their relationship was still relatively new.  Dr. Mendez seemed to think that it would be Persia who would bring up any concerns, so Will decided he would wait.

    Things were pretty quiet on Saturdays.  Most of the workers were at home relaxing from the week's work related stresses.  A few continued to work on weekends.  Many assumed it was because they were dedicated to their work.  The sad truth was that they had no life outside of work, hence they tended to spend their time in the one place where they felt most comfortable.  Will used to be one of those people until he started dating Persia.  He smiled as he thought back to their first official date.  He wanted to take her to a fancy restaurant, but realized that she would probably feel out of place.  Instead they dined al fresco at an expensive bistro that he knew about.

    Will had been pleasantly surprised at how charming Persia was.  She had told him about how she had ended up refilling vending machines for a living.

    "Why don't you go back?" asked Will.

    "Are you kidding?" said Persia.  "I can't afford it."

    "You don't have to go to a really big school," said Will.  "There are a lot of small colleges with really good credentials and reasonable tuition rates.  I went to a small college.  Only eight thousand plus students on campus."

    "I don't think I could afford a small college on my current budget," said Persia glumly.

    "You could always apply for scholarship," said Will.  "If you apply under adult education, there's an even better chance of getting funded."

    Persia lean on her elbows.  "Why are you so interested in me going to college?" she asked.  "My education not up to your high standards?"

    Will would have been stung by such a comment except that a playful smirk was tugging at Persia's mouth.  He decided to counter her question with the same attitude.  "Well, I'm sorry, he said feigning injured pride.  I didn't know you wanted to fill vending machines for the rest of your life.  I just naturally assumed you wanted something more out of life."

    Persia laughed at his fake snobbery, and soon, Will join her.  They were drawing irritated looks from other patrons, but neither cared.  They were having a great time.  When things settled down, Persia became quite contemplative.

    "I think I will go back, though," said Persia.  "I'm a little scared, though."

    "Of what?" asked Will.

    "I'm not sure I'd fit in," said Persia.

    Will waved his hand dismissively.  "Feh!  Don't let that stop you.  If you find the right school, you'll fit in just fine.  You're not the only adult making up for a missed educational opportunity.  Adult ed is a major industry."

    Persia smiled at Will.  "Thanks."

    "So, what are you interested in?" asked Will.

    "Didn't we talk about that already?" asked Persia.

    "No, I meant what major would you choose?" said Will.  "What was your major the last time you were in school?"

    "English Literature," said Persia.  "I had dreams of writing the great American novel.  This time, I think I'll be a bit more practical.  Maybe I'll study marketing.  One thing I've learned from working in a candy company is what makes good marketing."

    "Sounds like a worthwhile endeavor," said Will, "and I hear marketing makes some pretty decent salaries."

    Persia laughed.  "Yeah, that doesn't hurt, either."

    Will woke up from his daydream and glanced at his watch.  He was supposed to meet Persia for lunch today.  Will tossed the folder in his briefcase along with his cell study notes and locked it.  Then he quickly closed up his office and headed out of the building.

* * *

    "Excuse me?" asked Will in shock.  His fork hovered just out of reach of his waiting mouth.

    Persia took a deep breath.  "I want to use my abilities to help people.  So, I thought I could, you know, become a...superhero."

    Will set his fork down on his plate.  "Ok, I think I need my ears cleaned out.  I could have sworn you said superhero."

    "Will, don't be difficult," said Persia.

    "I'm being difficult?" asked Will.  "Persia, there are no such things as superheroes.  That's just a fantasy."

    "Until now," said Persia.  "Will, everything I can do is just a fantasy, but I can do them anyway.  This is real."

    "This is insane," sighed Will.  "Well, this explains your sudden interest in action films."

    Persia smiled sheepishly.  "Research."

    "Hollywood is not well known for its reliable information," warned Will.

    "There aren't many places I can go for reference," said Persia.  "Be glad I resisted the temptation to visit a comic book store."

    Will sat back with his hands folded in his lap.  He recalled his conversation with Dr. Mendez earlier that morning.  Persia looked pensive and started biting her lower lip.  A snort of laughter escaped from Will.

    "What's so funny?" asked Persia.  She hadn't expected him to laugh.

    "Don't bite your lip like that," said Will grinning.  "You put me in mind of a vampire with a fang missing."

    Persia's brow furrowed.  "You're trying to change the subject, aren't you?"

    "No, I'm not," said Will.  "Look, let's take this thing one step at a time.  How are you going to help people if you're working during the day?  And if you decide to go out at night, when are you going to get any sleep?"

    "Maybe I could just be a superhero on weekends?" suggested Persia tentatively.

    "I don't think criminals follow a set schedule," said Will.

    Persia's temper began to flare.  "Will, stop patronizing me."

    "I'm not patronizing you," said Will who was also getting a little heated.  "I'm trying to make you see sense."

    "What's sense got to do with anything," shouted Persia.  "I'm a walking freak of nature thanks to you and your stupid lab!  I'm just trying to make the best of things!"

    "Persia, don't shout," said Will.

    "I'm not shouting!" shouted Persia.

    "You are," said Will.

    "I am not!" she screamed and brought her fist down on the table.  Her fist went straight through the table and caused Will's end to catapult toward Persia.  Will's salad bowl leapt forward and smacked Persia dead in the face in true vaudevillian fashion.

    Will was shocked by what had just happened, but nowhere near as surprised as Persia.  The bowl slowly peeled itself free of Persia's face and fell to the floor.  Persia was covered in ranch dressing.  Bits of lettuce stuck to her face and hair.  Will tried his best to keep a straight face, but eventually collapse into fits of laughter.  Persia became truly incensed.

    "Get out!" she screamed and pointed at the door.  As she did so, her hand glowed a bright pink color.  Suddenly, a powerful blast of energy leapt from Persia's finger and tore through the door.  A deafening roar was heard as splinters of wood went flying into the hallway outside her apartment.  Will felt the floor vibrate from the blast.  When the dust settled the wall opposite Persia's apartment had a large gaping hole.  Will could see out onto the street.  Car alarms were going off from as far away as two city blocks.

    "Whoa," managed Will.  "That's new."

    Persia was visibly shaken.  The glow had gone from her hand, and she placed both hands over her mouth.  Her eyes were brimming with tears.  Will got to his feet and walked up to Persia.  He placed a hand on her shoulder.

    "You okay?" he asked cautiously.

    Persia quickly pulled away from Will.  "Stay away!" she cried.  "I'm too dangerous to be around!"

    Tears began streaming down Persia's face.  Some traveled along her whiskers and dropped off when they reached the ends.  Will advanced further and enfolded Persia into his arms.  Persia leaned into his shoulder and was reduced to heaving sobs.  While still holding her, Will guided Persia to the sofa and sat her down.  He held her and caressed her until the crying ran itself down to the occasional sniffle.  Will began picking pieces of vegetation from Persia's hair and face and started nibbling.

    "Will, what are you doing?"

    "What's it look like.  I'm grooming you," replied Will.

    "Will you're a rabbit, not a primate," said Persia chuckling.

    "Oh,...right," said Will.  He was glad to see that she had calmed down enough to joke with him once more.  "Do you still want me to leave?"

    "God, no," said Persia.  "I need you now more than ever.  How am I going to explain this mess to my landlord."

    "I might be able to pull some strings," said Will.

    Persia leaned back from Will's embrace.  "Really?"

    Will smiled.  "Sure.  After all, you're AARL's responsibility."  Will thought for a moment.  "You know, that glow on your hand was the same color as the omega radioisotope.  I think you might be generating omega energy."

    Persia suddenly pushed away from Will.  "You mean I'm radioactive?"

    "No, no," assured Will.  "You're generating the energy signature of the isotope, not the isotope itself.  That was the main reason we were working with it.  It proved to be a substantial energy source.  In fact, it defied all known laws of thermodynamics."

    "Defied?  You're not working on it any more?" asked Persia.

    "The project's been shut down," said Will.  "In fact, that was the reason I went in to work this morning.  Which reminds me..."  Will reached for the accordion folder that sat on an end table next to the sofa.  "This contains all of your medical records from the lab.  I want you to keep it somewhere safe.  I wanted to destroy them, but we don't know how the omega effect will change as you get older, and we may need some reference material to do comparisons."

    "Uhm...ok," said Persia a little uncertainly.

    "You know," began Will, "I'm beginning to see that you need an outlet of some type.  Dr. Mendez was right.  This is a life altering situation."

    "She said that?" asked Persia.

    Will nodded.  "Having this kind of energy potential without using it could be dangerous.  You'd have to become a superhero just to keep from going stark raving mad."

    "Is this some round about way of giving your approval?" asked Persia looking at him suspiciously.

    Will shook his head.  "I still don't approve," he said, "but the way things look, you may not have a choice.  It's either expend your energy of become a danger to everyone by doing nothing."

    "I'd rather have your approval," said Persia.

    "Give me time," said Will indulgently.  "I may get used to the idea."

* * *

    After two weeks of waiting, all of Persia's orders had finally arrived.  She opened her packages and laid out her new costume.  Something was missing, though.  She needed an emblem.  All superheroes had emblems by which they were easily recognized.  Fortunately, Persia was quick to come up with a design.  She played around with a few ideas by looking up information on atomic symbols.  Finally, she drew a large block letter 'A' with two electrons circling about it.

    While her artistic skills were lacking, Persia was a reasonably good seamstress.  Using the drawing she had made of her emblem as a template, she cut out fabric pieces to make up the the letter, which was yellow, the electron paths in black, and the electrons which were merely burgundy colored circles.  She used pieces of silk which she bought in a fabric shop in the odds and ends bin.  These were pieces left over from bolts of material that weren't large enough to use on a full sized garment.  She bought matching silk thread and very fine sewing needles to do the work.  She couldn't afford a sewing machine, but Persia doubted that a machine could handle the intricate work needed for the small pre-cut pieces of soft fabric.  Her mother had taught her how to stitch by hand.  She was quite good at it.  Soon she had two complete sets of costumes.

    Persia had thought about wearing a cape with her ensemble, but decided against it.  A cape would only interfere with her tail, and she really didn't want to cover it up anyway.  She had practiced with a make-shift cape at one point and found that it was a nuisance when trying to get things done.  She could just imagine the number of things the cape would get snagged on, strangling her in the process.

    She also contemplated wearing a mask, but after watching a few superhero movies, she realized that a mask wouldn't fool everybody.  Eventually, some wisenheimer would figure out who was behind the mask, so she might as well let everyone see up front.  She contemplated how that would affect her normal everyday life.

    "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, I guess," said Persia to herself.

    A knock came at the door and Persia jumped.  Quickly she gathered up her costumes and tossed them into the bedroom, shutting the door.  She hurried back to the front door.

    "Who is it?" she called.

    "It's Will," said Will through the door.  Persia undid the dead bolt lock and let him in.  "I see the contractors I hired did a nice job on the wall out there."  He had a shopping bag in one hand that he set down next to the sofa.

    "Yeah," said Persia.  "They even aged the brick on the outside so that it matched.  I owe you my life."

    "I'll settle for a kiss," said Will.

    "Sold," said Persia and leaned into long, loving kiss.

    "So, what's new?" asked Will after pulling away with much reluctance.

    "I got my new costume," said Persia

    Will stumbled over his own feet.  "Where in the world did you find someplace that sells hero costumes?"

    "Nowhere, silly," said Persia giving Will a playful punch in the shoulder.  "I cobbled together some things myself.  Come see."

    Persia led Will to the bedroom and opened the door.  She picked up the haphazardly tossed outfit and smoothed it out on the comforter.

    "Gee, it's really...red," said Will.

    "I like red," said Persia feigning disdain.

    "Well, then, let's see you in it," said Will.

    "Okay," said Persia, "you stay here.  I'll be right back."  She grabbed a set of clothes and dashed into the bathroom shutting the door behind her.

    Will sat down on the bed.  He had to admit to himself that Persia was really gung ho about all of this.  It wasn't long before Persia emerged from the bathroom in her outfit.  Will's jaw hung open when he eyed Persia.  The costume fit very snugly and hugged every curve of her body.  Persia noticed his reaction, sauntered over to him and shut his mouth closed.

    "I...I'm not sure I like the idea of you prancing around in that get up," said Will.

    "Gee, Will, I never figured you for the jealous type," teased Persia.

    "How about a nice pair of red coveralls?" suggested Will.  "I've always thought you looked good in coveralls."

    Persia laughed.  "Don't worry.  I promise not to let this go to my head," said Persia.

    "So," said Will conversationally, "when's the big day?"

    Persia paused a moment.  "I'm not sure, yet," she said.  "I mean, I'm definitely going through with it, but I don't think I'm quite ready.  I need more preparation time."

    "Which reminds me," said Will getting up.  "I have something for you."

    "I was wondering what was in the bag," said Persia.

    "Come see," said Will leading her into the living room.

    Will reached down into the shopping bag and pulled out what looked like a radio.  "This is a police scanner," he said.  "It picks up radio communications from police, fire and ambulance dispatchers."

    Persia gasped as she took the scanner from Will.  "You got this for me?" she asked.

    "Well, I figured if you were going to help deal with emergency situations," said Will, "you'd need to know where to show up.  Which brings me to my second gift."

    "You mean there's more?" asked Persia.

    Will pulled out a large folded sheet of paper.  "This is a map of the city," said Will.  "A very large map.  One you could, you know, hang on your wall.  I mean, you've gotta get your bearings for when you're flying around, right?"

    Persia didn't know what to say, so she gave Will a very big hug.  "You are so good to me, Will Green," sighed Persia.

    "Well, you've been pretty decent to me, too," admitted Will.

    "This is just what I needed," said Persia, "and with the karate lessons I've been taking..."

    "You're taking karate lessons?" asked Will.

    "Yeah," said Persia.  "There's a guy at the Y who gives free lessons every week.  I've just started, but he says I pick things up very quickly.  It's odd, though."

    "Why odd?" asked Will.

    "Well, I've never been what you'd call athletic," said Persia.  "In fact, I've always been uncoordinated.  I never went to dances as a kid because of my two left feet.  Now, it's like I'm the most well coordinated person in the world."

    "You probably are," said Will.  "I suspect this is another effect of the omega radiation.  I never did any studies on what it does to the central nervous system.  I think, you're going to find that you can do a lot of things you couldn't do before."

    "Par for the course, I suppose," said Persia.

    "Just promise me you'll be careful, okay?" said Will.  "We still don't know what all the effects are with the omega radiation."

    "Don't worry, Will," said Persia.  "I'll start slow and easy."

* * *

    Persia was true to her word.  She started slow and easy.  Listening to the police band on her scanner, she made her first appearance at a traffic accident on the nourth-south interstate.  It was a massive ten car pile-up.  It was a miracle that no one was killed.  Still, there were people trapped in their horribly misshapen vehicles.  The police on the scene were ill equipped to deal with the situation.  They were waiting for backup from emergency services.  She helped free the trapped accident victims by tearing open car doors or car roofs depending upon what was more expedient.

    Cars on the opposite side of the interstate were slowing down to watch in amazement, causing traffic to snarl.  Some people pulled off to the side and got out of their cars to watch.  Persia noticed that a news chopper which had been  covering the accident was focussing on her presence.  She found it extremely annoying, but there was nothing she could do about it.  The police had their hands full trying to keep traffic flowing.  They seemed to have given their unspoken consent to Persia's assistance.

    Eventually, ambulances and fire trucks were able to fight their way to the scene.  The paramedics immediately went to work on the accident victims whom Persia had laid out carefully near the median strip.  Firefighters went to each car making sure there were no threats of exploding gas tanks.  Unfortunately, a news van had made its way to the scene in the wake of the emergency vehicles.  It didn't take long for a reporter and camera man to zero in on Persia.

    "Excuse me miss," asked the reporter.  "Are you one of the accident victims?"

    "No," said Persia, "I stopped to help out."

    "Were you on your way to a costume party when this happened?" asked the reporter.

    "No," said Persia, "these are my working clothes."

    The reporter looked a bit confused by her answer.  Persia didn't care.  She was trying find out if it was safe to move the cars to the side of the road.

    "May I ask you your name, please?" asked the reporter.

    "I am the Atomic Kitty," answered Persia somewhat proudly.

    She had expected professionalism of some kind from the news reporter.  She would have liked him to be impressed or amazed.  She would even have accepted dubious skepticism, or a veiled inference to her lack of sanity.  She did not expect a full out belly laugh from a so-called professional journalist.

    "Did I say something funny?" asked Persia in an irritated voice.

    "I'm sorry," said the reporter regaining his composure.  He was wiping tears from his eyes.  "i thought you were serious for a second there."

    "I was," said Persia.  "My name is Atomic Kitty."

    "Oooooookay," said the reporter in a not so veiled aside to his camera operator, "we've got a live one here, Charlie."

    "Look, pal, why don't you go hassle the cops or something," said Persia dismissively.  "I'm a busy superhero."

    "Superhero!" cried the reporter laughing again.  "Right!"

    Persia growled in anger but decided to pay him no mind.  She stepped up to a mini van that now looked like a failed clay sculpture.  Reaching beneath the side that had the least structural damage,  Persia easily hefted the mini van up onto her shoulder and carried it to the side of the road.  Then she carefully set it down out of the flow of traffic.  When she turned around to decide which car she would move next, she caught sight of the annoying reporter.  His mouth was hanging open and his microphone hung limply from his hand.  Persia allowed herself a smug grin.  The camera man, however, didn't seem impressed by anything.  He continued filming everything that was going on.  At the moment he was focussed on her.  Persia walked over to a mangled sports sedan and moved it to the side of the road.

    "Hey, wait a minute," called the reporter.

    "Sorry, you had your chance," chided Persia.

    "Aw, com'on," he pleaded, "how was I supposed to know you were legit?  I mean, there's no such thing as superheroes."  He paused and then added, "At least, that's what I thought."

    "Just goes to show you don't know everything, do you, Mr. Smarty Pants?" said Persia.

    She was feeling on top of things at that moment.  Suddenly, an explosion rocked the scene as one of the cars tanks ignited.  The flames towered into the air by several yards.

    "Oh, crap," said Persia.  "Now, what do I do?"

    "Can't you, you know, blow it out or something?" asked the reported.

    "It's a burning car, not a birthday cake, genius," snapped Persia.  She really didn't like this guy.

    Persia looked around her.  There didn't seem to be anyway to put out the fire.  That is, until she saw something which made her relax.

    "I think I'll let the more experienced heroes handle this one," said Persia with a smile.

    The reporter started looking around quickly.  "There are more superheroes?"

    "Yup," said Persia pointing.  "The best kind."

    She was pointing to a group of firefighters who had immediately jumped into action and were in the process of dousing the flames with their hoses.

    "I don't get it," said the reporter a touch bewildered.  "That's just the firefighters."

    Persia rounded menacingly on the reporter who quailed  at the look in her eyes.  "There nothing 'just' about firefighters, mister!  Those are some of the bravest and most selfless people on the planet!"

    "I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!" apologized the reporter.  Was that a pink neon glow he saw in her eyes?

    Persia took a deep breath and reigned in her anger.  She really shouldn't let this gnat of a reporter get under her skin.  "Look, buddy, I'm really trying to help straighten things out here, and you're getting in my way.  Why don't you take a cue from your camera man here, go off to the side of the road, and just observe, okay?"

    Crestfallen, the reporter did as he was instructed.

* * *

    Persia sat in her sofa chair with her feet soaking in warm water and epsom salts.  Occasionally, a contented sigh escaped from her lips.

    "For someone who can fly, I sure spent a lot of time on my feet, today."

    The phone rang.  Persia swore and reluctantly pulled herself out of her foot bath and walked over to the telephone.

    "Hello?"

    "Hey, gorgeous," said Will over the phone.  "I saw you on the evening news.  You really looked good out there."

    "Thanks," said Persia, "but I didn't realize what kind of work I had set for myself.  I am beat."

    "After lifting twenty-three cars, I'm not surprised," said Will sympathetically.  "Mind you, I don't think that journalist who gave the report liked you very much.  Still, he said a number of nice things about you."

    "I was too hard on the poor guy," admitted Persia.  "He was trying to do his job, and I gave him a hard time.  But, he was constantly getting in my way.  I mean, what if I accidentally dropped a truck on him or something?"

    "Yes, well, now for the bad news," said Will.  "One of the tabloid shows got footage of you.  All they pretty much talked about was how snugly your costume fit.  And since you're a blonde, well, you know the rest."

    "Ouch," winced Persia.  "So much for good press."

    "You're gonna have to expect this kind of thing when you go public like this," said Will.

    A beep signaled over the line informing Persia that another call was trying to get through.  "Hold on, Will. I've got another call coming in."

    Persia pressed the flash button on her phone.  "Hello?"

    "Persia Delilah Whitmore!  Just what do you think you call yourself doing?"

    "Mom?" squeaked Persia.

    "No, it's the Avon Lady.  Of course, your mother's gonna call you when you embarrass yourself on national television!"

    "Mom, I was out helping people," said Persia.  "I thought you'd be proud."

    "Proud?  Of a daughter who dresses like a Las Vegas showgirl?  I saw you on Entertainment Affair!"

    "Cripes," groaned Persia, "you would watch the tabloid instead of the real news"

    "Entertainment Affair is real news, and it's much more interesting than that dry stuff on those other stations.  So, what were you trying to do?  Audition for a movie or something?"

    "Mom, people were hurt in that accident!" said Persia exasperatedly.  "I was there helping.  I rescued people trapped in their cars, and I cleared the wrecks off the highway so traffic could move."

    "Don't take that tone of voice with me, young lady.  I know a movie set when I see one.  There's no way someone like you could pick up a real mini van."

    "Oy," sighed Persia.  A beep reminded her that Will was waiting on the other line.  "Hold on, Mom.  Will's on the other line."

    "Will?  Who's Will?"

    "Later, Mom," said Persia.  She pressed the flash button.  "I gotta go, Will," said Persia in a defeated voice.  "That's my Mom."

    "Uh-oh," said Will.  "How bad is it?"

    "Bad," said Persia.

    "Well, I'm with you in spirit," said Will.

    "Swell," sighed Persia with a small smile.  "I'll talk to you later."

    "Bye, hon."

    Persia pressed the flash button once more.  "You still there, Mom?"

    "Who's Will?"

    "Will is my boyfriend, Mom," said Persia.

    There was a pause over the phone.  "And when were you going to tell me about this?  Who is he?  What does he do for a living?"

    "He's a research scientist, Mom.  He's head of his division," said Persia proudly.

    "So, what does he see in you, Miss College Drop-Out."

    "Geez, Mom," said Persia.  "Can't you let it go just once."

    "Sweety, your father and I just want you to be happy."

    "I am happy, Mom," stressed Persia.  "I'm happier now than I've been in a long time."

    "Does he make good money?"

    "He does ok," said Persia.

    "Then, is he at least good in bed?"

    "Mom!"

    "I'm just looking out for my little girl."

    "Mom, your 'little girl' is all grown up with a job and an apartment of her own," said Persia.

    "Well, I want to meet this Will of yours.  Invite him over for dinner."

    "Mom!  You're a four hour drive from here."

    "I said invite him for dinner, not breakfast.  What difference does four hours make?"

    Persia sighed.  She did a lot of sighing when talking to her mother.  "Ok, ok, I'll ask him when he's free."

    "Wonderful, dear.  Let us know when you're coming down.  Oh, and don't wear that garish outfit again, okay sweety?  Bye!"

    Persia heard the line disconnect.  She placed the receiver in its cradle and slid down the wall to the floor.  She looked up towards the ceiling and spread out her arms.

    "Lord, just take me, now!  Please?"

T H E   E N D

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