Chapter Seven - Building Bridges

As her car door opened to reveal her new home at the Whispering Willow retirement home, Carol’s mother, Eunice, tightened her mouth and took a long look. Her son-in-law, Johnny, stood on the other side of the door, patiently waiting for her feet to hit the pavement. The trip had capped off what had been a turbulent past few months in his household and Eunice’s open car door, in a sense, signaled his own freedom. He was already envisioning the return of his home office.

The elderly black woman finally emerged, holding her shopping bag of a purse and standing upright to a full 5 ft. 3. She walked and stood slightly hunched, but managed to stay mobile, without the aid of a cane or walker. Her glasses sat still perched on the end of her nose from working a crossword puzzle. By now, Deborah had walked around to her side and grabbed her arm.

 “Here we are, Momma,” Deborah said, walking toward the door and motioning for Johnny to close the car door behind them.

Once inside the doors, the three were greeted with warm hugs from Carol, some members of her staff and one resident who assumed they were there to see her. They soon made their way to the employee lounge and sat down while Carol brought out water bottles and soft drinks.

Deborah was quick to notice a sweeter side of her mother that had now blossomed. Eunice sat wide-eyed, listening to Carol’s stories about her dog, the home and the residents, frequently nodding and commenting. The sour demeanor that had characterized her past few months had been replaced with emotional sunshine. Deborah didn’t know where it came from, but she was pleasantly surprised to see her mother re-discover it. Still, she knew the test of wills between Carol and her mother, would come soon enough.

“Well, you really made good time,” Carol said.

“Liked to have killed me, too,” Eunice replied. “Johnny drove like he was in a race. You’d think he was trying to get rid of me or something.”

Johnny, who did everything in his power to freeze his face, said, “No, now that’s true, Mom-in-love. We’re going to miss you.” He resisted the urge to check the time on his cell phone.

“Well, Carol can come bring me back to visit. She needs to see those beautiful kids anyway. I sure am going to miss those little fellas.”

“Well, now that yall are here, do you want to go out and get something to eat or eat here at the cafeteria?” Carol asked. She’d already informed her staff of the possibility of a long lunch hour. “We have all the usual places.”

Johnny responded, “We might want to just eat here so Mom can get her first taste of the food.” He also quietly thought a trip outside would impede the progress of the trip back home.

Eunice rolled her eyes and puckered her lips. Well, that figures, she thought to herself. Ever the penny-pincher!

Soon, the four of them were gathered one of the tables in the home’s cafeteria, munching on meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Underwhelmed by the food, Eunice glared at Johnny several times, but he stared off into space, never letting her catch his eyes. He had gotten very good at that.

During lunch, several residents approached the table, satisfying their curiosities concerning the visitors and in turn, meeting their newest resident. In keeping with her new attitude, Eunice was cordial and pleasant, exchanging pleasantries and even standing to hug some of the older women. Johnny caught eyes with Deborah and they both rolled their eyes.

Eunice even seemed pleased with the new room she’d be calling home. Carol and Deborah thought the reaction could be either way, much like some of the other residents who had arrived in the past. Instead, the family matriarch stared over the walls, supposing where her pictures would hang and pointing spots where Johnny could set her things once removed from the car. Much to Deborah’s irritation, she seemed overly surprised at how clean the bathroom seemed to be, saying “this is exactly how a clean bathroom should look like” and motioning for her daughters to come see.

“This is going to be so nice,” she said, placing her arms around the two sisters who smiled at each other over their mother’s shoulders. “I’m so happy.”

Truthfully, the joyful Eunice wasn’t really acting or even putting on a brave face. She was truly pleased in her small reunion with Carol and Deborah, the girls she’d raised all on her own. Even though she constantly sparred with Johnny, who’d become the human target of all of her elderly discomforts, her frustration with him never tainted the feelings she had for either of her daughters.

The three of them had a special bond that transcended the normal mother-daughter relationship. They had all experienced the devastating loss of the father and husband, Samuel, and they helped each other through the journey back to normal. Though the girls would face their most crucial years without his influence, Eunice was always determined to keep his memory alive, their home safe and their lives as normal as possible.

In the days following Samuel’s funeral, when news of the incident was at a fever pitch in the media, Eunice carried her young daughters off to stay with her sister. Paula’s tiny apartment lacked the legroom of the family’s three-bedroom house but it provided access to a pool, something the girls made good use of. Sitting beside the pool in a lounge chair, observing her girls at play, she began to see the life coming back into their eyes. Tears would mostly return before bedtime , when the aquatic placebo was out of sight. But, as the preacher might say, joy came in the morning.

As heart-wrenching as it was to manage, when word came that verified the intentional destruction of the bridge, caused by a still-unknown offender, Eunice agonized over the new hurdle the new revelation would cause.  

“Why would anyone do this?” Carol questioned, her eyes filling with tears. “Who did it?”

She held on to Debbie, who hid her face on her shoulder.

“They don’t know, honey,” Eunice responded, trying her hardest to maintain composure. “They’ll find out.”

Carol alternated sorrow and anger, sobbing almost uncontrollably.

“I know this is tough, babies. Our car, we, were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Whoever did this, they’ll be caught. They’ll go to jail. It won’t bring Dad back, nothing will. But if it’s one thing I’m sure of, they’ll be caught.”

“He’ll get him,” Carol muttered, wiping away her tears. The thought of the murderer facing his comeuppance gave her a temporary distraction.

“You’re right – he will,” her mother responded. Deep inside, however, she feared that even with whatever long-rumored abilities Captain Horizon had, he simply couldn’t be in all places. Even so, the promise of their rescuer also being their avenger gave them all a momentary break from their anger. Tears would, nonetheless, return at bedtime.

The weight of the loss was sometimes too much for a young Carol to bear, but she was left with no choice. With no word from law enforcement, it seemed as if no progress was being made to find the person or persons responsible for the bridge catastrophe. Captain Horizon, for all the extraordinary abilities he reportedly possessed, had also failed to deliver. The single most brutal, life-altering offense had gone unpunished. The murderer or murderers were out there, possibly creating more orphans and widows out of otherwise happy families.

Most of the time, she’d shuffle that nagging question to the back of her brain and carry on with life as usual. Through her early teen years, she had pockets of despair but most of the time she resolved to keep herself strong, for the sake of her mother and sister.  

As she grew into a young woman, Carol’s resolve became stronger. In moments when she found she couldn’t keep her composure, she’d retreat to a place quiet and alone.

On her eighteenth birthday, long after the song had been sung and candles had been extinguished, her heart became heavy, thinking about the most notable absence in the celebration. At bedtime, she took a night drive and arrived at the rebuilt bridge, the site of the tragedy. She parked, got out and along the edge of it, staring into the darkness below. She reflected on her father, the song, the car, all of the events of that day.

 “I’m sorry,” said a voice that startled her, taking her breath away.

In a surreal moment, she looked up to see a figure floating past the edge of the bridge. It was him, the hero in the picture, the one who’d dove into the cold waters after their car. His mostly-black costume made him hard to spot at first but her eyes focused on the flesh peeking from behind his mask. His cape was waving in the night air like a flag.

“Did you follow me here?” was the question that escaped her lips before she realized it. She regretted it as soon as it left her lips.

“No, I sometimes check the bridge for jumpers,” he said. “You’re not jumping, are you?”

“No,” she said, still reeling from the awkwardness of the encounter.  “I’m….uh, I’m glad you saved my life. You know I don’t remember hardly any of it.”

“I wish I’d been five minutes earlier,” he said.

“Me, too,” she said. “But…what if you were five minutes later?”

“I saw you on television,” he said, changing the subject. “That was quite a note you wrote. Thanks.”  

“I’m glad you heard it. I wasn’t sure where to send it. You do have a home, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Questions that had lingered in her mind suddenly came back. She began to filter which ones were really relevant.

“You’re not an alien, are you?” she questioned.

“No.”

“But no one seems to know too much about you, other than you save lives and fight bad guys.”

“That’s what’s most important anyway. The rest of it is just boring.”

Carol was silent. Like a child questioning Santa, she had held her most pressing question inside until it would not be caged any longer.

“Who planted those explosions? Who was responsible?”

The costumed hero paused for a moment, considering how best to approach the answer without igniting further pain or stoking the flames of bitterness. Hovering in the night air, with his arms folded, he wished he had a brighter answer to give.    

“The man who did that is a man kind of like me,” he said. “He keeps his identity secret. I’ve traced several incidents to him. The authorities call him ‘Roach’.”

Carol looked strangely at him.

“I think they call him that because just when they think they’ve cornered him, he finds a way out,” he said. “He’s a hard man to get.”

“I can’t wrap my mind around why he’d do something like this,” she said.

“That’s a good thing. This man operates on a warped set of principles that include money, power, anger, hate against the things the rest of us regard as true and bright. We can’t understand why any sane, rational person would do these sorts of things, but we’re not dealing with a sane, rational person.”

“What is he like?”

“I’ve only seen him a few times and every time, his face is hidden and he’s escaped somehow. He’s not a big fan of mine, since I’m the one doing damage control. So I’m definitely on his hate radar.”

“Is he like you? Is he powerful?”

“I don’t think he has any special abilities.”

“So you’re not worried. He can’t hurt you.”

“He can hurt me,” he responded. “To tell you why I am how I am is a really long story, but behind everything I can do, I’m a human, plain and simple. I’m a lot harder to hurt but this guy is pretty set on finding out to make that happen. If you ask me if I’m worried, I still say not so much. I have to believe, and you have to believe, that good will come out on top, justice will prevail.”

Carol turned silent, pondering the many years she’d already waited. The man called Captain Horizon again changed the subject.

“What are your school plans? College?”

“I’ve been thinking of helping people somehow. Sometimes I think I want to be a nurse or a doctor, maybe a veterinarian. Who knows. You are…kinda, my inspiration. Even though you have whatever abilities you do, no one forced you to get into that water or to do all that stuff. I’m sure you’d be just as happy sitting back with your wife, if you have one. I’m just me but I think I want to do my part, too, you know.”

His eyes widened and he smiled. The words the young girl had scribbled on that note were more than just hastily made promises from a traumatized child, she was indeed inspired to build a life that would make him proud.

“Do you have friends?”

“Yes, when I’m not wearing this costume, I have friends who have no clue about all of this.”

“I’ll be your friend, Captain….,” she said, as he began slowly backing away from the bridge.

He stared at her, knowing she’d offered a very precious part of herself in the kind-hearted, childlike gesture. This girl who’d grown up without a father figure had still been able to keep her trust in a man staring at her from behind a mask. He wanted to return the favor.

“Charles,” he said, smiling. “Don’t tell anyone, but you can call me Charles. I enjoyed the conversation. Will you please tell your mother I said hello?”

“Sure,” she said, increasing her volume as he gradually became farther away. As he disappeared into the night sky, she issued a final goodbye.

“Be careful out there, Charles.”