Continued from the Origin of the Dim Knight
“What is it with this town?” Dave asked his bungalow as he flew over it, wearing a golden mask that matched the thunderbolt crest on his chafing green costume. Now that mild-mannered janitor Dave Johnson was a superhero, he finished his work duties at eight instead of midnight and spent the rest of his shift flying two-hour patrols around Bremerton. He’d been out here a week and hadn’t found a single crime to fight.
A woman’s cry for help pricked his ear.
Just like Superman. Sweet!
He found her in a blind alley, held at knife point. The thief grabbed her wallet and backed away, snarling to a companion in a red bandana, “Let’s go.”
Dave landed behind him. “Not so fast!”
The woman stared, struck speechless by the sight of a Real Life Superhero in such a cool and well designed costume that he spent hours sketching on the computer before using focused visualization to make it materialize.
The muggers spun around. “Who are you, man?” asked the punk in the bandana. “And where did you get that gay costume?”
Hey! I worked hard on this costume! “I’m-um-um.” So hard I forgot the most important thing: a name. No matter, I can save this. “Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? You want to know who I am? Your worst nightmare!”
Dave grabbed the muggers and held them together. Focusing, he pictured them tied up. Ropes appeared around them.
He grabbed the woman’s wallet and took it back to her. “Here, you go, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She ran off.
“You’re welcome.” Dave held his head high as he marched to a telephone. He picked up the receiver and dialed 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“This is um ….” Why should he have to think of a name? Superman didn’t name himself. The Daily Planet did. “A couple miscreants robbed a lady. I stopped them and tied them up, so you can pick them up.”
“Who was the victim?”
“Um, I don’t know.”
“What’s your name?”
“Okay, friend, let me get this straight. You have a couple of guys tied up and you expect the police to arrest them on just your word that they were robbing someone?”
“No. Now do you want me to waste valuable resources on sending someone to untie them or can you handle that?”
Dave blushed. “I’ll take care of it.”
He went back to the alley and untied the two muggers. “You’re going free on a technicality. But you may not be so lucky, next time.”
The muggers ran off, giving him obscene gestures.
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