If I’m the Superhero, Then Where the Hell Did I Go?

I hear your tears at night As I hear the storm howling Losing my child, taken by the tide Nowhere to hide, I don't know

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Amy Lake’s eyes flutter open - her brain a hazy fog - as she let out a creaky groan and reaches across her bed to grab at a glowing alarm clock on a nearby side table.

11:45 PM

The red, digital numbers stare back at her as she pushes herself up on her hands and elbows, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and pushing her palms against her eyes.

*CLICK*

Amy lifts her head up and listens as the distinct click of high heels on her hardwood floor echoed through the living room below.

Did I fall asleep while reading again? Wait. Nathan’s match!

Nathan's first match since... since everything. Two months of not knowing where he was, if he was safe, if he'd ever wrestle again. And she'd fallen asleep! That must be Sonja downstairs - and probably wondering where Amy had been all night. She had made a full pot of coffee and Sonja had been so kind to leave some lovely brownies for them to share … but she couldn’t help herself from trying just one…

Amy’s eyes shoot open as she scoots across the lacquered floor toward the closest light switch and pushing it upward until the room is illuminated. She looks around, eyes moving from the faded flower wallpaper that came with the house when she and Larry originally bought it from that nice elderly couple who were moving in with their son… what was his name?

Don’t let your mind wander Amy Jean - stay focused.

Sonja. Nathan’s … girlfriend? Close friend? In all the time Sonja had been staying at their house Amy still couldn’t quite get to the bottom of their relationship. But there would be time for that later - it was just so nice to have someone around the house to talk to again!

Sonja will be so upset…

Though Sonja hadn’t really spent all that much time in the house lately… she headed out right after breakfast the last few days and then sometimes wouldn’t get home until midnight or even 1 AM. But that was OK. Amy gave her a key so she could come and go as she pleased - after all she was family.

Or, maybe, would be.

Amy smiles absentmindedly as she opens the middle drawer of the massive oak chest her mother had left her when she passed. A true family heirloom… maybe one day she’d be giving it to Sonja…

Mind. Wandering.

The Lake matriarch shakes the cobwebs out of her head as she pulls out a knitted sweater jacket and throws it over her shoulders. She was still wearing her clothes from earlier in the day and wanted to at least look like she meant to be up this late.

She had stayed late at this afternoon’s meeting to talk to Councilwoman James about the proposed U-Turn regulations on Main Street - knowing that forcing people to drive another three blocks to just try and get back to their homes would be a disaster.

Sonja was there too but left before Amy could say anything. Even if she had caught her there - it would have been hard to pull her away from the crowd that seemed to follow her everywhere.

She always dressed so professionally - so hip! No wonder people around town can’t stop talking about her - I mean… getting dressed up in Montevideo usually means you’re putting on your Sunday best for a one-hour chit chat with the Big Man upstairs or getting your hunting gear on to spend the day over at Bergo or Appleton just a bit further north, but Sonja? She was a star. A real Hollywood actress rubbing elbows Paula Crooks and Nancy Hendrickson instead of Sandra Bullock or Meryl Streep.

It was a dream come true.

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Broken bonds, broken souls Baby, you know how it goes Bloodstains on the phone Baby, calling home But there's no one home

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Amy descends the steps quickly, just about to turn into the living room when she hears Sonja’s voice… talking to someone.

“I can’t believe he won…”

Nathan won!? Oh my goodness! That’s so great, now we can-

“No, I know it was what needed to happen, but eventually - on schedule!”

On... schedule? What is she talking about?

“I just need to make sure everything is working out the way it needs to. You told me this was the only way.”

The stairs creak beneath Amy’s feet as her weight shifts and she leans in to hear the rest of Sonja’s conversation.

“I think people are ready to see the man behind Blaze Claymore. You know? I want this to be special for Nathan - so he gets everything that he’s earned. I just want to make sure when that time comes… he’s ready. Either way, I’ll be at his side - watching.”

Amy clears her throat as she steps into the threshold of the living room and looks sheepishly at Sonja - looking absolutely stunning in a long black dress and pink lipstick. Hoop earings hang from her ears that glint in the light.

Sonja smiles at Amy and points to the phone, mouthing the words “sorry” - Amy mouths back “that’s okay”

“Yeah. Exactly. Well, I know you have a lot of paperwork to get through - I’ll keep you updated. You’ll hear from me soon.”

Sonja lowers her phone and turns to Amy. Her voice is so bubbly and perky for it being so late.

“Hey there! You get enough sleep, Amy?”

Oh here it comes…

“I’m sorry, Sonja - I don’t know what happened - one minute I was reading and the next I was waking up and it was nearly midnight! But I heard what you said on the phone.”

Sonja twitches slightly but then smiles.

“Oh?”

Amy steps forward, beaming, trying to fight back tears.

“Is it true? Did Nathan win his match?”

Sonja lets out a short laugh and then sighs.

“It was something else, Amy. The whole town is going to be talking about it tomorrow.”

What does she mean… the whole town?

“I was going to surprise you, actually. I spent all week working with the owners of that theater a couple blocks away - the Monteplex I think? Well, anyways, I told them that Nathan was going to be competing and after all those folks came to see Nathan compete in Minnesota he thought it would be fun to host a watch party. I just got back.”

All week? She hadn’t mentioned it at all… is that where she’s been out at all day? I suppose that makes sense… but for her not to be there? Why did Sonja let her sleep?

Amy lowers her head.

“And I wasn’t there to see it…”

Sonja steps forward and puts her arms on Amy’s shoulders.

“He said he was so glad to know that he had people in his corner again. That he didn’t disappoint them… you most of all.”

Amy looks up, eyes beginning to water.

"He called you? He must have been so excited—"

"Oh, no. I called him after he won. He was over the moon"

Amy smiles, her heart glowing. Sonja's voice is light, casual; but then tempers.

"But also a little overwhelmed by everything, you know how he gets. I told him you were resting and that I'd fill you in."

"He didn't want to talk to me?"

Amy feels a pang of hurt.

"Amy, no—he was just exhausted. And honestly I was hoping I could have handled this on my own but..."

Sonja lowers her voice, concern creeping in.

"He was also a little scattered. Ya know? I think the adrenaline from the win combined with everything else… At first he was celebrating, talking about the win, but then he started spiraling—talking fast about... I don't know, people watching him, things not feeling real."

Amy’s eyes go wide.

"So who was that you were talking to? On the phone when I came down? You mentioned paperwork… was it a doctor?"

A flicker crosses Sonja's face. Surprise, maybe, that Amy heard that much. But it smooths into a reassuring smile.

“Yes. There’s a … consultant who reached out after what happened with Nathan’s disappearance. He had seen what he went through and said he may have some therapy options that could help get him back to… normal.”

Amy frowns.

“And Nathan knows about this?” Sonja reaches over and grabs Amy’s hands in her own.

“He can’t know about this. Especially not now - not after he’s won. It could undo everything.”

Amy’s brain runs in a million different directions, but slowly and surely she finds her balance. All she wants to know is…

Is Nathan safe? By himself?

"He can't know? Sonja, that doesn't sound right—"

Sonja waves her hands.

"No, no—I'm sorry, I phrased that poorly. Of course he'll know. I just mean... not yet. I want to make sure everything's arranged first, that it's the right approach. That’s what the call was about… If I mention it now and it falls through, or it's not the right fit... you know how he spirals when he gets disappointed. I'm trying to protect him."

That does sound like Nathan. Getting his hopes up only to have them crushed has always been hard on him.

"I suppose that makes sense..."

"Should we call him back at least? Make sure he's okay?"

Sonja's expression shifts to gentle concern.

"I think the best thing we can do is let him rest. I promised I'd check in tomorrow morning."

She squeezes Amy's hand.

"He's safe. He's in his hotel. He just needs sleep. We both do." Amy smiles and chokes back a sob.

“I’m sorry I’m so emotional… it’s just… this is all so much for me. I thought when Nathan went to Hollywood all those years ago I had lost him. And then after getting him back I didn’t want to lose him again.”

Sonja begins to walk Amy over to the kitchen and, as she turns on the light, Amy sees the tray of brownies with one slice - her slice - missing.

“Here, sit down and have a snack. It will help calm you down.” Amy nods and sits down on one of the four creaky chairs surrounding her Goodwill table, white paint peeling off the edges. She reaches over and picks off one of the edges, putting the rich chocolate bar in her mouth.

“They’re delicious. You aren’t having one?”

Sonja holds her hand up, but keeps her eyes locked on Amy as she cuts into the dessert.

“Oh, not me. The sugar will keep me up for hours. Maybe tomorrow we can watch a replay of Nathan’s match and have some leftovers?”

Amy looks up at Sonja.

“Thank you. For being here… for him. And for me.”

Sonja sets her phone down on the kitchen table and leans forward to grab Amy’s hands in a gentle embrace.

“Of course. Where else would I be?”

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If I'm the superhero Then where the hell did I go? When you needed me most I was lost like a ghost Nothing but a story told

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Nathan Lake stands in front of a bathroom mirror at the Tampa International Airport.

The glass is caked in a soft film of skin cells, dust, and backsplash… but it’s clean and clear enough for him to see his reflection. No, scratch that, whoever - or whatever - was wearing his skin.

Recessed deep in his dilated pupils, black pools reflecting the void of the last few months, were Blaze Claymore… and something else.

What they see looking back at them is a man - but only in the way a piñata shaped like a clown, unicorn, or horse is a facsimile of the real thing. Nathan had spent the last few weeks feeling like a human version of papier-mâché - a six-foot party favor standing in a Montevideo Thunderhawks hoodie faded from age and neglect - trying as hard as he could from having everything inside of him from spilling out onto the floor below.

At Nathan’s side is a tiny, single-serving rolling luggage bag. The fabric is bright red with white trim - a gaudy show of excess to match the image Blaze has of himself. Bright. Center of Attention.

He looked down at his wristwatch - flashing 5 A.M. - his flight back to Minnesota had been delayed another two hours and he hadn’t been sleeping well even on the best of nights.

Nathan was thankful that no one had recognized him in the terminal yet. His head was spinning from the last 24 hours. The win against Danny Christie. The dismissiveness of Elise Ares and the D… and then there was Sonja.

He could hear her crystal clear; their conversation from the night before replaying in his head over and over:

I heard you won.

Sonja's voice had been short. Curt. Almost annoyed.

Yeah, Nathan had said. Still reeling from his interaction with The D and Elise. I did.

Congratulations, I guess…

How’s my mom?

Fine. I suppose. I think she’s back at the house. Or out. I’m not sure.

Wait… you’re not at the house? Why?

Oh, I had to run out to get something. She was sleeping when I left.

Nathan’s heart skipped a beat.

She… didn’t watch?

Christ almighty, Nathan. I’m not her babysitter! I’ve been trying to repair your reputation here after your little stunt and let me tell you - it’s a lot worse than I thought.

His body began to tingle.

Wh- What do you mean?

What do you mean what do I mean!? You LEFT them, Nathan - TWICE. First for Hollywood and then to mope about your losses for two months. But don’t worry - I’m taking care of it all.

But Sonja - that’s not what happened!

A pause.

Oh? So I should tell everyone here in town that you vanished for two months, were tortured by a shadow, and now you see that same shadow everywhere and it is some sort of extra-dimensional demon that is afraid of sunlight? THAT is what you want me to tell them?

Nathan tried to argue - say something in his defense; but he couldn’t.

You’re sick, Nathan. You need help. A win tonight doesn’t change that… only I have the ability to salvage your career. So stop bugging me and let me do what I need to do so I- so WE can come out on the other side of this without looking like complete idiots and assholes.

But… but you-

*CLICK*

But you were the one who called me…

Nathan’s knuckles grip the sink edge, lowering his head - body shaking.

“You were the one who called me…”

He had hoped his voice would sound confident. Defiant. But instead it was soft. Weak. Defeated.

Nathan looks back up to the grimy mirror and, in what had become a routine, reached into his pocket and began to apply concealer to the black markings under his eyes - a parting gift from Max Kael. Mayor-elect Max Kael.

The thought made Nathan’s stomach churn. Someone like him in a position of power like that…

He could have sworn the markings began to recede after his win, but now … now they looked worse than they ever had.

Nathan rubs the concealer over and over and over … his skin HIS skin begins to redden, becoming inflamed as the blackness continues to push through the makeup, almost like it was consuming it.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK!

Nathan throws the bottle of concealer at the mirror, watching it clatter off the glass, into the sink, and rolling back and forth before coming to a stop just over the drain.

He falls to his knees, taking deep breaths and clutching for air as his blood begins to throb loudly in his ear. All he could think - in that moment - was whether or not it was actually his blood he was hearing. Blazes? IT’s? Or-

“Holy shit. Nathan? Nathan Lake?”

The throbbing stops. The roar is muted.

Suddenly all Nathan can hear is the soft humming of the bathroom’s fluorescent lighting, the soft caress of highly-recirculated air pumping through the vents.

He looks up to see a shocked, but smiling face. A familiar face.

“It’s Marcus. Marcus Noonan. From-”

Nathan stands up, his mind racing.

“From Ms. Longwood’s class…”

Marcus looked older - Nathan supposed they both did - but the eyes hadn’t changed. The same ones who always had that mischievous glint in them when he was about to test a teacher’s limits or pull a prank in the lunchroom.

“Damn, man... I haven't seen you since... shit. That talent show. The one where you totally made Principal Greene look like a maniac for chasing you off the stage?"

Nathan’s body feels lighter. His body warming. He can’t help but laugh.

“Oh yeah… you remember that?”

Marcus waves his hand and laughs.

“Who doesn’t, man? Shit. It’s a shame you didn’t stick around longer - all of us in Montevideo probably would have voted you for Mayor by now if you were still there. But I can see why you got out — you were always too big for that town.”

It takes everything Nathan has not to break in that moment. He can feel his head splintering. His mind fracturing.

“Wait wait wait … are you on Flight 1044 - to Minneapolis?”

Nathan nods, hand gripping his luggage handle.

“No way bro! Me too! I was in Florida for some work thing but .. holy shit. I can’t believe you’re here – don’t tell me you’re going back to Montevideo?”

Nathan runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. Need to see my mom.”

Marcus nods, beaming.

“Ms. Amy is a real one, man. Tough as shit. Doesn’t let crap slide. She’s always at our city council meetings - giving them the riot act about any big business they want to bring in or any gentrification bullshit they try to pull. She loves that town.”

Nathan smiles.

“Yeah, I guess she does.”

Marcus scoffs.

“Ugh. I bet she could whip this airport into shape though - fuckin’ mess of an operation they have here. What’s this bullshit about another delay? It’ll be winter by the time we get back to Minnesota at this rate….”

Nathan recoils slightly—suddenly remembering where he was heading. Back home. To his mother.

To Sonja.

Something on his face must have shown it.

“…But - hey! I think the bar near our gate is opening soon and our flight doesn’t board for another two hours. I’ll buy you a drink.”

Nathan turned back to the grimy mirror, expecting to see the marks bleeding through, consuming the makeup, spreading— But they were fading.

Slowly, like a stain in reverse, the blackness receded beneath the concealer until the marks were just… memories.

Nathan extends a hand out to Marcus and nods with a smile.

“Yeah. That sounds… perfect.”

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My heart, it screams My heart, it screams for you My heart, it screams My heart, it screams for you