Partners

Arthur Tompkins, known to the general public as "Wonder Man" (he had
got to change his name, especially after that embarrassing incident on
Debenhams' roof the first day he went public. It had taken two months
in traction to heal up, but that had all been sorted now) was watching
"Coronation Street" when his pager went off.

He glanced at the message: four "W"s followed by "Break in at
warehouse, 49, Blaine Street. Please respond."

Blaine Street ? Where was Blaine Street ? And anyway, "Corro" hadn't
finished yet. He could pretend his pager hadn't worked; it wasn't a
batsignal (what would they have ? A torch with a "W" scrawled on the
glass ?) but it did the job.

Arthur sighed and rang the police station on his mobile. "This is...
uh... Wonder Man," he told the desk officer, remembering to deepen his
voice to a suitably-heroic tone. "I'm responding to... Where's Blaine
Street ?" he whispered. The woman on the desk gave him the directions
and he scurried off in search of a clean costume.

He cursed as he put a ladder in the blue, Spandex tights, knowing he
should cut his toenails more often, and hopped comically around the
bedroom whilst he tried to get his boots on, colliding with various
chairs and cupboards (next time, he would wear them under his normal
clothes, no matter how hot he got).

He whipped the new, shorter cape around his back and fastened it to the
Velcro patches at his shoulders (although it was less cumbersome now,
his new cape had still caught in the door of NatWest and had almost
choked him). And finally, he pulled on the scarlet cowl that didn't
quite hide his face enough, but nobody had put two-and-two together yet
fortunately.

He admired himself as he passed the mirror and ran out to the garage
where the black Ford Sierra, "The Wonder Wagon", awaited him.

As he drove through the one-way system, trying to make sense of the
directions he had scribbled down on a Post-It note, he knew what he
needed... He needed what every good superhero had... (apart from
Superman... and quite a few others, of course...) He needed a teenaged
sidekick !

He smiled to himself at the idea; it was perfect ! They could take it
in turns to patrol the city: he would do Saturdays, Tuesdays and
Thursdays... and his teen friend could do the nights when "Coronation
Street" wasn't on... Of course, they could both be out there after 8pm,
silhouetted heroically on parapets and church roofs.

But first, he had to find someone willing...

He waited to see if anyone had family murdered in a tragic circus
"accident", but he would wait a long time, so he did the next best
thing.

The advert appeared in "The Derby Evening Telegraph" the following
Friday: "WANTED: Teenage partner (male or female) for famous local
superhero. Athletic abilities a must. Supply own costume if possible."
and he had left a PO Box number for the replies.

He hoped he would get some female applicants; at least then, criminals
wouldn't think he was strange (plus, they'd be really jealous) and he
might get lucky !

After three weeks though, he still had no replies. He put another
advert in: "WANTED: Teenage partner (male or female) for famous local
superhero. Athletic abilities a must. Supply own costume if possible.
Pays ?20,000 pa plus bonuses" His first replies arrived the day after
the ad appeared.

"Hi, I'm The Black Crow... The most daring thing I've done ? Played
chicken with a milk float on my skateboard, I suppose..."

"Next !"

"They call me The Decapitator..."

"Next !"

"I'm afraid my mum won't let me work after dark..."

"Next !"

"I'm Jade Butterfly," the young, Oriental girl in the green Spandex
smiled at him. "I'm fluent in Jiu Jitsu, Jeet Kune Do and Savate
amongst others. I can hack into any computer network you want and I
think you're lovely..."

"Uh... I'll let you know... But can you leave your number on the way
out ?"

"I'm known as The Disemboweller..."

"Weren't you The Decapitator earlier ? Next !"

"The name's Nimrod... Pleased to meet you."

The big figure sat down on the opposite side of the desk, muscles taut
beneath the midnight-blue outfit, blue eyes glaring from behind the
dark hood.

"You're a little old to be a teenage sidekick, aren't you ?" Arthur
asked.

"Oh, I'm not here to be your partner..."

"Oh ?"

Nimrod gazed round at his surroundings. "Nope," he continued, "I'm just
here to suss out the opposition."

"Oh..."

The dark form stood up again and stretched out his hand, squeezing
Arthur's fingers tightly in his grip. "Guess I'll be seeing you
around," he smiled, turning on his heel and strode back out.

Arthur thought once more about the pros and cons of a sidekick. Someone
with whom to exchange merry banter. Someone to deliver humorous quips
whist beating up villains. Someone to watch his back in a fight.

Someone who'd make him feel old. Someone whose awful puns would quickly
begin to annoy him. And as for female partners, okay, they could fight
better and dirtier than guys, but the first sign of a ladder in their
stylish tights or a chipped nail and, for them, the fight would be
over, plus, he didn't want the bad guys lusting after her (he still had
Jade Butterfly's number, but that was different).

He withdrew the advert and turned away the rest of the applicants
(including The Decapitator / Disemboweller who had turned up again in
the new guise of The Dismemberer) and with a big sigh and a heavy
heart, decided to carry on alone (he'd just have to learn how to use
the multiple-event timer on his video... watch everything on Sunday...
There was no crime on Sunday...).

The almost-daring exploits, the page five headlines, still continued to
appear...

And from his little, stone cottage on the fringes of the Peak District,
the man known as Nimrod put down his newspaper and began to
laugh...

TO BE CONTINUED...