Preterhuman Normal

Part Ten                                                                            August, 8, 2016


He pulled on his black Galeton RESIST™ Cut Resistant Knit Gloves.  It’s brutal to watch someone destroy their lives from addiction while you feel hopeless to help them.  Another cruel lesson he learned from Softie and Ms. Caligulass.

Ms. Grady punched in Devon Street on her holographic map.  It was a new street between Broadview Ave. and Pottery Road where a new suburb was being built over the torn down buildings that once stood there.

“There,” he said pointing at a metal sided building with a flat tar roof.  Above the sliding doors he could see “My Place” spray painted in blood red over a faded sign.  Ms. Grady pulled into the gravel parking lot.

Norm grabbed the baton as Ms. Grady slid her gun into the back of her pants.  She held her cell phone out at arm’s length as she watched its screen.  “No one is outside and I don’t see any traps on the doors,” she said, her lisp sounding serious and sensual at the same time.

He grabbed the padlock on the door and yanked it until snapped.  Inside was dark until his eyes adjusted to the few overhanging fluorescent lights.  Throughout the floor he saw small piles of crates.  In the centre of the floor a large TV flickered.  Siting in a Lazy Boy chair across form the TV was his mother.  She took out her cigarette and popped a brown sugar cube into her mouth.  He saw a bowl of the cubes on a side table beside a half empty bottle of Vodka.

“Mom,” he said in a small voice as he glanced at her fingers.  Just after her knuckles he could see circles made of blue marker.  She was watching the news.

On the TV Alejandra Ceto stood in front of pro and con demonstrators; some with signs praising Levitar, others cursing him.  Abilgail asked one of the demonstrators with a sign that said “He’s saved my Son!” on it, what Levitar had done?

“My son was stuck in his school while it was burning and Levitar swooped in and saved him, along with other children.”

Another demonstrator shoved his face in front of the Midtown News camera and shouted, “My daughter was struck by a drunk driver and Levitar just let her bleed on the street.  Another pedestrian made the 911 call.  That pedestrian is a hero, not Levitar!”   Norm turned his attention back to his mother.

“Let’s go mom,” he said.

“Why,” his mother asked popping another sugar cube into her mouth.

Norm felt Ms. Grady’s hand on his shoulder.  “Look at her eyes Norm, this is bad.  We have to get her to an addiction clinic.”

“It’s just sugar,” he said.

“No, it isn’t.”  He saw her dial 911 as he stood their feeling hopeless.

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