welcome to the mind of...well, me
You might have heard of me in the newspapers. Just last week an article included how I helped save Mentoria from a psychotic super villain controlling a gigantic robot harboring a death ray. There was even a picture. And, okay, maybe you couldn't really see me in the picture. But I was in it, I swear. I just happened to be...out of action at the moment. If you had seen the paper, you would have seen me...being protected by Force, who was doing the real battling against the gigantic robot. And I might have been, well...unconscious. But it wasn't my fault. I just wasn't...paying attention.
I do that a lot.
You see, I'm not an actual super 'hero'. I'm more of a super 'sidekick'.
My name is Electron. But that's not my real name, of course. It's my sidekick name. My super powers? Magnetism. My name is derived from the fact that every electron is a small magnet. I learned that from Google. I'm a very big fan of Google.
You know what else I learned from Google? The word 'sidekick' is from pickpocket slang. It was a word created because the pocket safest from theft was the front side of a pair of trousers. So basically, I'm the side pocket on Force's pants. A small, unacknowledged side pocket on a pair of pants. Actually, I may be the side pocket inside the side pocket. You know those pants that have those big pockets, and then a smaller, interior pocket that no one really notices? I think I may be that pocket.
Somehow, that really doesn't help my self-esteem.
Also, I found out that a sidekick's really only function is to be comic relief. Yeah, there may be those occasional times when Force is in a pinch and I'm the only one able to help. But the only way I help is by distracting the villain by fumbling my way through an escape attempt while Force breaks through his bonds. Therefore, my only purpose is to bring laughter in a very intense fight. But if I crack a joke, no one really pays attention. And if they do, I'm only awarded with a glare that shows how really not funny I am. Because I'm not funny. Maybe Force has my funny bone along with all the glory and fame.
I probably shouldn't be saying that about my partner. Or, in alternate reality, my best friend. I'm going to tell you something. But you can't breathe a word about it to a soul. Force's alter ego is Blaine. Blaine Finley.
I know. That name sounds like it belongs to one of those drop-dead gorgeous/star quarterback on the football team/surrounded by a million and one fan girls/almost Bill Gates rich/most popular guys in the school type of guy. That kind of guy who can get away with anything because everyone loves him and thinks he can do no wrong. The kind of guy who can get anything with a snap of his fingers or a wink of his eye. The kind of guy who other guys just disappear behind.
And the worst part is?
He's all of that.
Which begs to ask the question: how did someone like him become friends with someone like me?
The name my parents gave me is Cyrus. Cyrus Gardiner. You already know about the super sidekick part of me. So I guess I should tell you about the normal, everyday run-of-the-mill me. I'm seventeen. I don't drive. I don't like school. I don't get along with my parents. I don't play any sports. I don't have a girlfriend. I don't like work. I don't have a life.
That pretty much sums it up.
I guess, other than the whole super powers thing, the only interesting thing about me would be is that I'm in a band. Well, not really a band. Not yet, anyway. Someday, there will be a band. It just needs more members and a lot more fans. Although I may suck at being a sidekick, I know that I am good at being a bassist. My pride and joy is my Gibson Thunderbird. It sits on a pedestal in my room. I worship it.
When you come right down to it, I'm just a seventeen-year-old bass guitar-obsessed super sidekick.
Before this whole super hero, crime-fighting business started, I had hardly spoken a word to Blaine Finley. I always saw him as that rich jock that I would never in a million years care for. There were a lot of things I didn't care for. I just didn't pay attention to the world. I still have that same problem today, evidently.
It had started in the seventh grade. I probably haven't mentioned this, but I'm an official science geek. I understand science. I understood it so much in seventh grade that I was appointed by my teacher to help a failing student. His name was Drake Reese, and he was Blaine Finley's best friend. And maybe I didn't like him. Maybe I didn't like him enough to insult him whenever I got the chance. And not behind his back, either. In his face. Like a moron.
Needless to say, he wasn't very happy with me.
One day one my way home after school, I had been riding my bike through a short cut. It was the first day of my music lessons. I was excited and rushed home, hence why I took the short cut instead of my usual half an hour scenic route through the quieter part of town. Drake and Blaine had gotten a ride home from Drake's senior brother. They had been driving on the same street I was pedaling along. Apparently, Drake had mentioned something to his brother about my patronizing attitude. And when Drake's brother had seen me alone on that deserted street, he decided it was time for payback. They had driven up to me and started coasting along beside me.
Then Drake reached out from his window and grabbed onto my bike handle as his brother began to speed up. I don't know if you've ever tried to keep up with a speeding car on a bike. Let me tell you, it's not an easy thing to do. Especially after you start pedaling too fast and your foot slips, and then the spinning pedal smacks into your shin. And then your bike starts to wobble precariously and you feel like any second you'll fall off and be crushed beneath the car's tires.
I vaguely remember Blaine yelling at Drake and his brother to stop. And then he began tugging on his friend's arm, which in turn made me wobble even more. All I remember from that point on is that I began to wobble too much and my fear overwhelmed me so much that I waved my arm out, intending to punch Drake Reese in the face. But I never hit flesh. Instead my arm smacked against cold, hard steel. And a bright light burst forth.
The next thing I knew I was on the ground, my bike lying as a tangled iron mess next to me. Someone (later I found out it was Blaine) helped me sit up and my head hurt like a lead pipe had been embedded into it, and I had not died from the impact. I had still been seeing stars from the light, but when my vision cleared, I could make out the gaze of the Reese brothers, unconscious and unharmed inside the car (they remembered nothing afterwards, as Blaine had erased their memories of the incident) and then the Reese brothers' car door. Or, more importantly, the absence of the car door.
The door seemed to have been melted off, but as I stood up and walked closer to the car, I could clearly see that it had been refigured, molded along the edge of the car, small steel bits sticking out from the car's side. It looked like a giant had taken the door and peeled it back on the side of the car, like a banana peel.
I later learned from Blaine that I had used my magnetism powers to cause the small magnets in the electrons of the steel of the car door to become attracted to the other magnetic electrons, therefore creating the steel to bend back. In other words, I bent metal.
At that time, I remember my mouth gaping open in shock. It might have flopped open and close a couple of times, as a result of me being stunned. In the end, I pointed at the door and asked, "Did I do that?"
And Blaine, in a moment that would forever seal my fate and our friendship, had rolled his eyes and replied, "Yeah. I would say that you did."
With that said, he proceeded to use his super strength to bend the door back into its original shape. And then I fainted.
Hey, not every super human has a grand time about finding out they have super powers.
Authoress's Notes: And thus begins the tale of Cyrus Electron Gardiner, sidekick extraordinaire! I had been wanting to write a superhero story for awhile now. I even went around to all my friends to find out what they'd want as a super power (but they were no help--everyone wanted to fly). So the other night, I started thinking 'Wait a minute--superhero stories have been written a hundred times before. So why not do a different kind of superhuman story? One that included the sidekick as the main character.' And tada! This story was born!
So what awaits Cyrus in the next chapter? If you want to find out, leave a comment and I'll update the next chapter!
Thanks to all who read this, whether you review or not! Happy New Year!