I was born! A little squirming pink thing that enjoyed soiling myself to the dismay of others. I was carried home by my parents and met a slightly larger pink thing that I’m told was my brother. “It’s funny looking!” my brother exclaimed, followed by a scolding from our parents and so began my life. Of course, I remember none of this. My brain was still busy learning things like how to process light and breath this funny thing called air.
It was a weird and frightening start. Everything terrified me, I would wake up and realize that I was alone and that I couldn’t see any light like when I my family was there. It scared the crap out of me, literally, and I would begin to cry. Then, sure enough, one of the others would come and check on me and let me know everything was okay. Sometimes my dad who would sing to me and sometimes my brother who would draw on me, but most of the time it was my mom who seemed to always pop out of nowhere whenever I was in trouble. She always knew how to fix what was bothering me, from being out of water and fearing dehydration to those monsters that kept trying to break in through the window that she would whisk out of sight with a mighty popping sound. I liked the popping sound, it made those first days alive a lot more bearable and a lot less scary.
I was beginning to get the hang of life, and things didn’t bother me as much as they did when I was born. We were all happy but life seemed to be hard on mom; because dad kept running around and mom started swelling. I didn’t mind though because all the drama meant my brother was playing with me more than usual. Probably because mom and dad were busy a lot, dad would yell at people sometimes sending cars flying with his voice. He said he was keeping everyone to date because mom was something called pregnant. I didn’t know what a baby was but my brother tried to enlighten me, “She sick!” my brother told me informatively, “just like when you were born.” I didn’t understand what he meant but it was nice that he took the time to teach me.
Then one day, mom disappeared and dad went after her in a loud white and red box. It was almost as loud as he was but didn’t sing as nicely. A few days later they came home with something in a blanket, it was really funny looking and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Mom and dad seemed okay with it though and told my big brother and me that it was our little sister. It was stull funny looking to me.
My siblings and I were home from school and doing homework at the table while the radio played in the background. “Mom, can I have some juice?” my little sister asked.
“Sure sweetie, just give me one sec.” Mom replied as she popped about doing chores and helping us with our homework. Then something caught her attention and she turned up the radio. She listened intently as my dad spoke over the radio.
‘There is a disturbance downtown, police are struggling to keep damage to a minimum of as a criminal of unknown abilities is holding a group of guards hostages inside the bank vault…’
My mom turned to us and said with a smile, “I think we have more juice downstairs.” Then to my older brother, “Watch your sibling for a sec okay?”. My brother grunted an acknowledgement, his attitude a side effect of being twelve.
My siblings and I all listened intently as the radio continued its news broadcast, ‘We’re waiting patiently to see if any heroes… Wait… reports are flooding in that superhero Prism has just arrived on the scene. She seems to be conversing with the unknown criminal and, OH! It just launched a bolt of energy from its mouth in her direction. Prism has vanished… no wait she’s above him! Is that a porta-potty? The villain has opened his mouth to fire again, Oh wow! She teleported the toilet around his head! We can hear gagging from the inside of his new helmet, he’s thrashing about and… no wait? He’s down! The criminal is down, passing out from the fumes! The crowd is cheering as Prism has once again saved the day and is now… she’s now paying a local grocery clerk in the crowd?”
Mom came back upstairs with a carton of juice and poured my sister a glass, “Sorry sweetie, it was harder to find than I thought.”
My brother rolled his eyes and muttered something like, ‘I can’t believe you used a porta-potty’ my mom shot him a warning glance to the confusion of my sister and me.
I had just failed my drivers test, not that I had put in a whole lot of effort. I tightened the laces on my running shoes and sped off at Mach three. I had powers and it was awesome. Unfortunately, I was the last one of my sibling to awaken their powers. My brother was twenty-one now and was the sidekick of a local hero of some repute; after briefly engaging in near villain like behaviour during his teens as a form of rebellion. During that time, my dad and him had battled it out a few times resulting in a lot of collateral damage from my dad’s super scream. Trust me, you did not want to be on the receiving end of one of his lectures, they tended to level whatever building you were in while it was happening. As for my sister, she found out she shared the same power as my brother at the age of thirteen, flight. Both of them could fly at Mach twelve and lift about five hundred pounds with them as they flew.
Me, I ran. It’s not an impressive power really, but it got me from point A to point B and allowed me to get a lot of things done incredibly fast. I also wasn’t a bad inventor and made quite a few gadgets for both myself and my family. On the upside, I was faster than both my sibling, except for the fact that I was stuck on the ground.
It was the summer and I headed to a lake we used to go to every year when I was a kid. I sat on a picnic table listening to classic rock on a local radio station. The music cut out as the host came on with a news bulletin, ‘We’ve just had a report that a high-speed chase is in progress at… sorry, was in progress on highway two. It ended just now when superhero Prism teleported the entire car into the RCMP’s parking lot where they were quickly apprehended. It’s rare to see her this far away from her normal jurisdiction but as always we greatly appreciate her assistance and hope she…’ *click* I shut off the radio and took my headphones out, just as my mom came up behind me and had a seat at the picnic table.
“So, failed the driver’s test I take it?” she asked knowing the answer already.
“Yeah but it doesn’t really matter, I can try again and it’s not like I can’t get to wherever I want by running.” I said in the overly confident tone of a teenager trying to avoid a lecture.
My mom just smiled, “I know you’ll get it eventually, but why did you run all the way to this lake?”
I shrugged, “The local radio station has good music.”
“Nice try, what’s bothering you?” she interrogated.
“It’s nothing just wanted time to think, okay.” I said a little more harshly than intended because I was a teenager and that’s what we do.
My mom stood up from and turned to look at me shrugging, “Alright fine, but be home for supper and remember that there is a one hour time difference compared to home.”
“I know mom, I’m not a little kid I know how to tell time. I’m pretty sure you were the one who taught me.” I countered sarcastically.
She smirked slightly but conceded defeat as she leaned in to give me an embarrassing kiss on the forehead. I suspected this was what moms considered revenge, “Okay fine, I love you see you at home.”
“Love you too mom.” I said reflexively as I put my headphones back on to listen to music. It was something everyone in my family shared. We all may have had different powers and abilities, different talents but we all loved music. My brother and sister even knew how to play various instruments and always kept up on the latest music. My dad was in was a radio host and he dealt with music more than any of us, though I suspected it was more work now than enjoyment.
I just liked listening to it, enjoying the same music my mom used to play for us on the trips to this very lake. For me no matter what I was doing rock and roll would always be the music that made good things happen.
I had just been kicked out of university for one-too-many experiments that, as the faculty put it, ‘Endangered the lives of students and was unbecoming of a future hero’. I was distraught because none of that had been my intention as some of my instructors had argued on my behalf. Unfortunately, since I was at a prestigious university, their decision pretty much stripped away any alternative opportunities I may have had.
For the first time in my life I turned towards villainy. I was tempted to enact revenge on those who had stripped away my dreams of success. My brother had taken over for his mentor as the hero Jet, and was a prominent figure in his own neighborhood. He also had a daughter now, my niece; and although she had no powers yet her mischievous poops could be described as villainous toxic attacks that brought my hero-of-a-brother gagging to his knees. My sister was still at the same institution that had shunned me studying the languages of other dimensions in hopes of traveling the multiverse.
It was a dark time for me, especially since my parents had separated. My mom moved to be closer to my siblings and me after a lot of arguing between her and my dad. It was my mom’s insistent intervention that eventually stopped me from destroying a few small cities in what would have been my malevolent debut.
My mom was still seen as one of the greats among other heroes but she let a lot of the younger heroes like me and my sibling deal with day-to-day crime that seemed to surge from a never-ending source of hatred in society today. I was now one of the go to heroes in my jurisdiction and often acted as perfunctory leader in most planning and diplomacy. My brother was now married and had a second daughter and he was constantly on the go in his new position as head of field missions. My sister had finally travelled to one of those strange dimensions that shared trade agreements with our own and had a bizarre language my siblings and I had all learned as children to be bilingual.
My mom still teleported to see them whenever they needed, but didn’t get involved in a lot of unnecessary hero-ing anymore. I did most of that now, showing those incompetent faculty members at my old university that their approval was unneeded. Instead, like a lot of things in mine and my siblings lives all we needed was our mom’s support to be great!
I left a vase of flowers on the table for my mom as I raced off to investigate a blaring security alarm in a nearby city that my wrist device alerted me to. As I left I saw the blue and red streaks of my siblings fly overhead, and in a green flash I was off to catch up.
The card next to the vase of white, orange and pink tulips read, ‘Happy Mother’s Day; Love, your superbrats.’
Happy Mother’s Day!
J. S. Figment