My Friend the Hero

With a quick inhale, I stepped up to the casket to view my best friend. The mortician excelled at their vocation - he looked like he was sleeping. No bruises. No gouges or busted oozing skin. No mangled bones. Instead, even in death he seemed in command. Strong. Not a hair out of place. They dressed him in a custom fit navy suit and brown leather oxfords set in the most luxurious coffin I think I’ve ever seen - the city had seen to it. They couldn’t let a hero go any other way. I worked my jaw trying to keep my composure. He would have preferred a viking pyre on the lake near his cabin. My vision started to blur.

His hand was gripping my shoulder, hazel brown eyes staring intently with that amused cocky grin of his, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…I just…”I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a deep breath.

He pursed his lips in thought. “Ha! You know what, let’s go get food. When was the last time you ate? What cuisine do you want? I’ll fly us there.” The news continued on with its red banner flashing across the screen of new regions impacted with swarms of drones instigating catastrophic level disasters triggering natural disasters in succession. I caught a glimpse of my reflection, left eyebrow shot up, brown hair splayed out in all directions, dark circles underlining my glasses like someone had used markers to emphasize their frame. I looked back at him - perfect black hair and practically glowing skin. He didn’t even look tired. Of course, I didn’t think his kind needed sleep anyways…did they? I rubbed my eyes underneath my glasses and groaned. He was right. I was not going to solve our astronomical tech problems on no sleep and no food, unlike the drones plaguing our planet who seemed to need neither. Were they solar powered? How were they sourced? Agh.

“Yep, yep, okay. Yes. Let’s uh…” I sighed and closed my eyes, “Actually, I really could use The Greasy Burger.”

His eyes lit up. “WOOT! Strawberry milkshakes here we come!” He grabbed me.

“NO!” I’m afraid my shriek was more feminine than masculine, “Not this way!!!” We blasted through the open doorway off the balcony. The fog felt cold as we zipped through it - up over the rail, “AAaaaaa!” and through the jammed, but no longer busy streets. He let me go and slapped my back as I adjusted my glasses and tried not to pass out underneath the neon pink lights of The Greasy Burger. I grimaced as my stomach caught; he waltzed in without a care in the world, black basketball shorts, an old high school Vikings t-shirt, and Air Jordans. I blinked several times and followed.

“Hey! My favorite customers! The usual?” The jolly cook called out. Business had taken a hit and they didn’t have the help they needed, but old Joe would never abandon ship. What else would he do? Where else would he go?

“You bet!”

“Alright! Two greasy burgers, 2 large curly fries, and 2 large strawberry shakes!” We slid into the cracking red booths. We had been coming here since we were boys. Eight booths and seven seats around the bar overlooking the flat iron stove and fry oil which tended to coat everything. I would need to change later unless I wanted the smell of nostalgia invading my work. The haze hung a foot deep at the no longer white ceiling. Did it smell like burgers and fries in is apartment upstairs? The metal of choice was aged chrome. I heard an explosion somewhere in the distance and tried not to think about what all would happen while we…I recharged.

“We’ve got this. We always do. Do you remember that time you remotely disabled that bomb from a limo outside the Governor’s ball while I rooted out the Cereal Serial Bomber?” I snorted. That one always managed to have fruit loops explode everywhere like confetti when his bombs went off. “Or that time you paraglided into the Mad Moles Anonymous camp and set an electric field around them until the countries involved could decide what to do with them?” Digging trenches was a pretty good reward. “OR that time…”

“I get it. We’ve had some good times. The ones I like best were when we were kids though. Being the pests was way more fun than trying to root them out. Do you remember when we loaded that little helicopter smoke bombs and smoked out the Lincoln Street Gang?” They weren’t much of a gang, they were just young boys intent on making our middle school days hell. “Or when we programmed those bots to steal pie off of the windows? You could have just flown up.”

He giggled gleefully, “And get caught? No, wait, I couldn’t do that yet!” Our strawberry shakes slid across the table. Old Joe grinned as he set down the two red baskets filled to the brim with curly fries and dripping burgers.

“Thanks man!” My friend high fived Old Joe. Shortly after half of the burger disappeared. “So good,” he mumbled around his food.

A tremor shook the building - the glass and metal clinking as it vibrated. We were running short on time. This particular villain had demanded our hero or annihilation of the planet. We, of course, were not willing to part with our biggest weapon and protection…my friend so easily. There was a meeting place of course that would guarantee “safety” for both parties. The interplanetary ship that had arrived within our orbit. He would have to fly to their platform and fight to the death or simply be taken. Then they would call in the drones and leave our planet peacefully. I was not so foolish as to think that would actually be the case. They were just ridding themselves of the largest hurdle to take over.

We walked home this time, listening to the buildings groan and pipes leak. Some cars were abandoned, but the people stayed. The people had nowhere else to go and did their best to keep their routines - although greatly altered. Back in my apartment I continued to calculate, dig, research, and scheme how to hack their ship or drones or somehow cause a power surge that would impact the drones, but not the rest of society. Time was running short. A message popped up on my screen.

“Give up yet?” I stopped breathing. I didn’t move. “I want to make a deal. Solve this riddle and I will know you are intelligent enough to keep your planet.” A code began filling the screen on and on and on it went. “There’s a chance. There’s a chance!” I looked around and didn’t see my friend. I think I recalled he flew to grab old files from his cabin from previous missions to help us. He didn’t trust tech. I didn’t blame him. So he had paper copies of everything. I continued to push. Just a few hours until time. My fingers fled over the keys faster than they had ever had to go.

Slam! My hand slapped the desk. “YES! YES! I got it!” The encrypted message popped up.

Bring your favorite food order to the corner of Lincoln and Broadway and all drones will be called off.

My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “I…you know what, we’ve encountered weirder.” I glanced at my watch and dashed out the door. “You know, super speed would be kind of nice right now,” I gasped as I ran. “JOE! JOE! The usual! Our lives depend on it! Your burgers could save the world!” I slapped the counter several times. Joe began rushing about and had a brown paper bag in my hands shortly. I slapped a ten on the counter and ran as fast as I could, occasionally tripping over garbage and startling from the more consistent explosions. There! I stopped at the corner, hands on my knees to catch my breath. Glasses fogging. I whipped them off and wiped them down before replacing them. A shadow moved from the alley. Slender hands reached up and removed the black hazy hood.

“My father enjoys conquering planets and yet never pauses to enjoy any of them. I wish to go home.” I passed over the bag and watched as she breathed in the aroma and then took a bite. I don’t think I breathed as she sipped on the strawberry shake. Her eyes lit up. “What is this?”

“Strawberry,” I whispered.

Her eyes sparkled and her lips twisted into a kind of a smirk. For your kindness.” She removed a device from her pocket that scanned her face and uttered commands in tones I could not translate.

“Are you..are you human?”

She sniffed. “No, but your mind would not comprehend my appearance.”

Explosions filled the sky. The drones were self-destructing. I looked back, but she was gone. I dropped to my knees and sobbed, my breath hitching and shaking my shoulders. Rocks and rubble bit into my legs as streams of red orange fire rained down the obliterated tyrants. It was over. Thanks to an alien teenager. A milkshake saved the world.

It wasn’t until later that I saw him. That I realized. He hadn’t gone to the cabin at all. He had gone up there. While I was making a deal, he was making his own. We won and lost at the same time.

A hand grabbed my shoulder. “You okay?” I dipped my head and remembered to breathe. The brown paper bag in my hand crinkled as I gently set it in the coffin and walked away.