Chapter Two- To Be Perfectly Frank
"What do you mean, 'it's closed?'" Elliot looked from one of the men there to the other.
They were clearly clowns. The big, floppy shoes, the red noses, the white face paint- really, that about said it all.
"We mean it's closed," one of them said, "and we can't get back in. The police changed the locks. Said something about vandalism involving the Sharks."
"The Sharks?" Elliot asked.
"You know, that gang of local toughs?" The other replied.
"I know who the Sharks are. The Sharks did this?"
"Last night, apparently."
"That explains the 'Do Not Enter- POLICE LINE' sign on the fence..." The fence was new- new wood, new nails, new everything. It was a hodgepodge, but far too high for Elliot to scale from this side. Elliot nodded to himself. "Where did you say they hang out nowadays? It changes so often..."
"I heard they're hanging out at the arcade."
"I see." Elliot nodded again. "Tell you what. I need to get into Giant Step. So first, I'm going to go have some lunch. Then, I'm going to go have a chat with the Mayor. If that fails, then the least I can do is whack some Sharks for you. How's that sound?"
"Thanks... I think..."
"Don't mention it!" Elliot said as he walked toward the local fast food shop.
"Ah, Burger Joint." Elliot smiled as he walked into the door. Just after he did, another man walked in. He was fat and clearly cared nothing for how he looked- his beard was mangy, his shirt was stained, and he just had this greasy feel to him. At the same time, he didn't seem homeless or a bum.
Elliot had the distinct displeasure of seeing this man cut in front of him in line. Not only that, but the man cussed out the cashier. Elliot sheepishly ordered his food- a burger with a bag of fries and a small soda- and spotted his friends, who appeared to have just started eating. The man was cussing them out too. Elliot sighed, and filled his drink. The man walked up to him. "Hey, I was here first." This was followed by a long string of cussing and death threats. Elliot's friends sniggered in the corner. Elliot calmly turned around, picking up the trellis pole he left on the floor. "Excuse me?" Elliot asked, quietly.
"I said I think you should move." This statement was prefaced, succeeded, and peppered with long strings of cuss words.
"I'm just here for my drink, okay?" The only response was several more cuss words.
"Door's to your right."
"What?" the man said.
"I said the door's to your right." Elliot pointed out the door. "You're clearly in no condition to be civil with people. Go home. Become fit for human habitation again."
"You gonna make me, you little punk? Is that what you're gonna do?" Elliot blinked. The man was starting to turn blue.
"Are you choking, sir?"
"No." The man gave Elliot a brief look.
Elliot nodded, mostly to himself. He was still confused. "Look- get out of my way!" The man finally shouted, running at Elliot. Elliot sidestepped the man, who went full tilt into the drinks machine. The blue color intensified, almost to a glow. Buddy- Elliot didn't know his name- got a crazed, faraway look in his eyes. Buddy's eyes narrowed. "Chosen." It was said with the same tone as some say 'cockroach'. Buddy dived at Elliot and got a smack in the face from the trellis pole for his trouble. He fell to the floor, and the blue aura faded. Buddy looked around blearily. "Huh? How'd I get here?"
Elliot still had his staff raised. "Hey, man, I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry!" Elliot lowered his staff in confusion, and once he did, he'd never seen any man run so fast. Then realization hit him. Even humans such as yourself, who have turned to the will of evil within.
"What the...?"
One of Elliot's friends tapped him on the shoulder, or tried to. Elliot grabbed the wrist before he could do so. "Untouchable, as always," Elliot's friend noted.
Elliot smiled. "Edison."
Edison smiled back. "Ness."
Elliot sat down to eat. "So... what was with you blowing us off back there? Don't tell me you've got something better than the Untouchables to worry about!" Pryor exclaimed.
Elliot looked right at the youngest of his Untouchables. "Yeah... For one thing, I think I may need to go have a few words with Frank."
"A few words? We should come with, right?"
"No! I don't want turf wars with the Sharks. I don't want a turf war, period."
"Why not?" Pryor said.
"Well, for one thing, outside that old treehouse behind the library, we've got no turf to defend. There's no point. Besides, it's personal. You three need to stay out of it."
"Okay, okay," Pryor said, his hands raised. "We won't get involved. At least take my cap."
"Your lucky cap? Dude! Keep it, man."
"No, you're gonna need it against Frank. If you go up against Frank." Pryor gave the cap to Elliot. "Oh, and if I can suggest something?"
"Yeah?"
"Get a better staff. That thing ain't fit for sticking into the ground." Pryor had a point- the trellis pole was very flimsy, and Elliot was afraid of breaking it.
Elliot's beeper went off, and he picked it up. It was a number he didn't recognize, but the name certainly was familiar. StarLabs. Dad had been called there several times, and usually didn't return for months after he was. Elliot finished what he could of his lunch quickly. His friends gave an understanding nod as he put on the red baseball cap Pryor gave him and headed out the door to find a payphone.
There was one in the drugstore just down the street from the Burger Joint. "You beeped, Dad?"
"Hey, son." Dad's voice was calm. "Your mother told me you still haven't returned the sensor watch she gave you. Can you plug it into a wall jack around there?"
Elliot took a quick look around. The phone had an extra socket. He extended a small wire- probably fed from a spool inside the watch- and plugged in the jack. "Ah! Yes, there it is. It's synchronizing now. Hmmm... what's your savings account number? Oh, yes, I remember now... Let me just enter that... and vóila. You now have an extra eighty dollars in your account for services rendered the Eagleland Government."
"Huh?"
"You're now an investigator of the 'blue aura'. Don't ask me, I've never seen it. But keep it on. I have a feeling you'll be needing the cash."
"Okay."
"And check in with that thing every once in a while. After all, who knows what else it'll pick up?"
"Sure. Well, I'm off to see a mayor about a key. Later, Dad."
"Later, kid." There was a click, and Elliot hung up the receiver. It had long become habit for him to stuff his wallet into his pants before going anywhere- a habit which he now thanked as he swiped his ATM card, and put in the PIN (B-A-T-S) and withdrew the money he needed for a new weapon. He looked over the paltry selection of the general store, and selected a nice, sturdy mop handle. "I'll take this." Elliot paid cash, and tried to fob off the trellis pole. No dice on actual money, but he put it toward a trade on an arm brace that looked pretty sturdy. He hoped fervently that his father wouldn't mind too much.
Now it was time to go to the town hall. He walked past the registration desks where many people were filling out forms to go in files. He asked the secretary if he could see the mayor, and she buzzed him in.
Mayor B.H. Pirkle was the leader of the local political machine, and he looked it. His body had seen better days, better days when the would-be mayor took care of himself, and wasn't bogged down with worries of re-election year after year after year. He had a poorly tailored suit, but a fine bow tie that he wore on all occasions. Currently, he was fiddling with this bow tie as he looked down his long glasses at Elliot from behind his desk. "Giant Step? Well... The Sharks have been causing problems lately. If you could possibly see your way...?
Elliot rolled his eyes at the mayor. "Fine. I was hoping to talk with Frank anyway." He walked calmly out, spinning his staff as he went.
Elliot looked down the street to the game arcade. There were Sharks there, all right. Big ones, little ones, seemingly of all shapes and sizes, but they all looked just the same because of the required look for the Sharks. They all had hats or helmets with a sharp dorsal fin on top.
He spotted the kid who tried for the Meteorite sitting on the curb. "Hey, dude. What's up?"
The kid looked up. "Hey, man. I can't get in to the arcade. Frank's in the back now, thinking about peace and love."
Elliot heard various clanks and ratcheting sounds coming from the behind the fence, and wondered if this kid knew what the heck he was talking about. "Yeah. Thanks for the info, kid."
"No prob."
Elliot knew that what he was going to do next would land most people in hospital. Elliot wasn't most people. He walked right for the arcade at a steady pace. Some of the sharper-eyed Sharks came for him. "Hey, what are you doing here? This is our turf!
"I'm not here for turf. I want a talk with Frank," Elliot said.
"Hey, guys, he wants to talk with Frank!" The collected Sharks sniggered. "What if we told you Frank was busy?"
"This is urgent," Elliot said. "I must speak with Frank." He readied his mop handle.
"Says it's urgent, boys!" The Sharks were still sniggering at him. "Well, Frank ain't talking to nobody, urgent or not."
"Nevertheless, I will speak with him. It's a personal matter, you understand."
"Well, you ain't getting through." The Sharks were readying weapons- small switchblades, bats, some people were even bringing out skateboards, pogo sticks, and hula hoops.
"Before we start, does the name 'Elliot Fullerby' mean anything to you boys?" Right there, some of them dropped their weapons and ran- mostly the ones with the smarter weapons.
The leader of the kids left- clearly one of the junior yes men that Frank had collected- said, quite clearly, "No, it doesn't. Should it?"
A far away voice, probably from one of the retreating Sharks, said, "You'll be sorry..."
"Worth a shot..." Elliot muttered. With that, the juniors of the Sharks started in on Elliot. They were a motley force, but they were mobbing him, giving them a slight advantage. One of the punks on a skateboard ground his way along the wooden fence and tried to drop on top of Elliot. He barely moved out of the way to smack the guy in the stomach, but still got the flat of a skateboard to the face. The boy fell onto one of the middle-schoolers on a pogo stick.
Then some kid who was clearly in high school tried to whack Elliot with his skateboard. This was met by Elliot's mop handle, and flipped casually away from the kid. Disarmed, the kid ran to recover his improvised weapon.
The yes-man, having gotten over his fit of laughing at the other Sharks' misfortune, tossed his hula-hoop at Elliot. Elliot deflected the blow with the mop handle, which got a scrape in its laminate. "A scrape...?" Elliot knitted his brows. "Concealed blades!"
"Bingo!" The junior Yes Man said.
"But now you're without a hula-hoop." He smacked the Yes Man on the head with the wood side of the mop handle.
Elliot proceeded to wade through the remaining guard Sharks, mostly by using the mop handle's greater reach to his advantage, swinging it one way, then the next, spinning around once for better momentum a few times. With the Sharks in a rout, Elliot continued to walk to the arcade.
There was one he forgot. The disarmed skate punk was tiptoeing behind Elliot. He raised the skateboard- and got jabbed in the stomach with the metal end of the mop handle. Elliot hadn't even turned around. "It's been done," the Skate Punk said in a weak voice as he collapsed to the ground.
Elliot smiled as he walked into the arcade. He waited a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the weak lighting. Yep, the inside was Shark-infested too. One of the Sharks looked right at Eliot and picked up his skateboard. Some of the others were watching intently.
"You know, you just beat up my friend," The skating punk said, trying to whack him with the skateboard. There was no hesitation on Elliot's part this time- he just smacked the man in the head. The man hit the ground, stunned.
The other Sharks quickly returned to the games they were playing as Elliot scanned the room. All except for one, who was standing guard over the entrance to the back area behind the arcade. He was taller than most, and took up the entire doorway. Elliot looked up at him. "Excuse me, I'd like to talk to Frank.
"Is that so? The Untouchable One wants to visit Frank? Is he, maybe, joining the Sharks?" The tall Shark hadn't moved an inch.
"No." If anything, calling Elliot that had strengthened his resolve.
"Well then, The Untouchable Snob ain't getting in." The bigger man tried to manhandle Elliot, which failed miserably. Elliot idly watched Big Man collapse before going through the doors.
Someone, probably Frank, was busy working on something. What Elliot could see of Frank was dirty- greased over old pinstripe trousers, likely gotten from the Salvies, along with ratty work boots. Various clanks and ratchetings, along with the occasional curse word, floated from Frank's workspace.
"Frank?" Elliot asked, politely. Although he might need to sort Frank out, he had never met the leader of the Sharks in person. Whoever it was didn't respond, though the muffled sounds of putting something together continued.
"Frank?" Elliot asked, a little louder. There was a loud resounding tone, and more curse words came out, muffled by the machine.
"YO, FRANK!" Elliot finally yelled.
"I HEARD YOU! Keep your shirt on!" The sound was muffled, but after a bit more apparent tinkering, some clanks, and another mild cuss word, the man known as Frank closed the aperture and stood up, dropping his tools onto the grass.
Frank was very greasy, which was not surprising. His old, greasy pinstripe trousers were matched by an even greasier pinstriped jacket. He had a mullet, and clearly hadn't shaved in several days. He put on some sunglasses to deal with the increase in light. "And who are you?"
"You should know."
"Oh, I know," Frank said, "But I want to see if you're too stuck up to tell me your name."
"Stuck up? Hardly. I just want this over with. Your boys vandalized Giant Step."
"And they had good reason, too. Don't go there if you value your life."
"I need to go to Giant Step, Frank."
"Then tell me who you are!" With that, Frank quickly stabbed at Elliot and got in proper guard position with his two knives.
"So, you're the one guy who actually knows how to fight, huh?" Elliot smirked. "Just to warn you, I've got one heck of a nasty headache."
"Good. Then this will be easier." Elliot ducked Frank's incoming blow and jabbed Frank in the chin, which was followed by a sweep. Frank lay on the ground, but came up swinging. Elliot swayed away, but not fast enough. Several beads of blood ran down his face.
"Heh. Not so untouchable, are you?" Frank taunted.
Elliot said nothing, but wiped his cheek and struck again. This caught Frank off guard, and he went down. "You're pretty good," he said, rubbing his chin. "But! You won't beat my Frankystein Mark II!" Frank pushed a button on a small remote. The monstrosity that Frank had apparently been working on rolled out from behind the bush. It looked like a human- if humans had a wooden casing with a clunky engine, even clunkier cooling system, and track treads.
"Impressive," Elliot said. "Let me guess- you made it from popsicle sticks?"
"Wait and see, kid." The thing let off a burst of steam as it went through its rapid cooling cycle. Elliot decided to hit it. The wood was already warped, and gave easily. Then he got a sock in the face from the thing. "Augh!" Elliot reeled backwards, and hit it with an upward swing. Some more of the casing broke off. The metal tip of the mop handle was forward now, and Elliot slammed it into the engine as steam hissed around him. There was a bright light, and the mop handle pierced through the fan blade and well into the inner workings of the engine. With a final scream, the Frankystein stopped moving. Elliot extricated the staff.
Frank looked surprised. "Nobody normal could have done what you just did."
"Don't you know? I'm Elliot Fullerby, the Untouchable." Elliot started to leave.
"Ness. Wait."
Elliot turned around, clearly not happy. "Yeah?"
"I know how to use that power. Let me show you." Frank's finger started to glow. Elliot was mesmerized as Frank touched Elliot's forehead. Something clicked, and placed his own hand over his cheek. "Life." The bleeding stopped and the cut vanished. The developing bruise he was getting on the chin disappeared as well.
"But, Frank- if you were psionic-" Elliot didn't know why he used the term 'psionic'. It just felt right.
"Why didn't I use it against you? Simple." Frank put his hands in his pockets. "Sometimes, kid, you'll find that the world loses its flavor. That everything fades to grey... PSI isn't a magic pill. Use it wisely."
Elliot nodded slowly. He understood. But there was one thing he didn't understand. "Why Giant Step, Frank? Why not what people see as Untouchable turf, or Jaggie? Giant Step is neutral."
Frank looked away. "Used to be that before you or I were born, Elliot, Giant Step was a place of peace where people performed amazing feats. Then time passed, and the power of Giant Step seemed to fade. Well, I recently discovered it hadn't faded. Rather... the power had flowed into something that even now, guards the Step from intruders."
"I still don't get it, Frank. What does this have to do with vandalizing the shack?"
"The shack's now the only way to get in or out of the Step. This way... nobody's in danger but my crew and me. That's why I did it." Frank looked into Elliot's eyes. "And that's why you're going to the Step, isn't it?"
"In a way, yes. Yes it is." Elliot nodded, and left. He couldn't help feeling a little cheated, though, as he walked out of the arcade. Would he have beaten Frank if Frank had used psionics against him? It gave him something to think about as he walked to the Mayor's office once more.
-End Chapter 2-