ShatteredLegacy
A novel by
Steven W. Eden
Superman and all related characters are the copyrighted property of DC Comics
9
Downtown Metropolis looked like a war zone. Or, at least, thought Chester Carr, it looked like the pictures of such things he'd seen in history books. Dr. Carr had been lucky. Very lucky. He had been running late today to give a lecture on modern geologic survey techniques at the Metropolis Earth Science Museum when he remembered he had promised to buy something special for his daughter, Sherry. As he was about to ascend the beautiful white marbled steps to the building, he spied a vendor across the street selling souvenirs from an ancient looking pushcart.
For a moment, he hesitated. After all, he was already late and the folks that he was to speak to were the top men and women in the field of geology. They were not accustomed to waiting on anyone, much less a low paid university teacher from Texas with small time credentials and big time ideas. But then, he reasoned, It's my lecture, for crying out loud, and they can't start without me anyway! Besides, Sherry is far more important to me than those stuff shirts, and the old guy with the cart will likely be gone when I'll be ready to leave. They've waited this long without me, they can just sit tight for another few minutes.
Chester crossed the busy street towards the old guy and approached the cart as the vendor was finishing a sale. A young lady was buying a large plush Superman doll for her young daughter, a darling little thing about the age of four. He couldn't help noticing that the doll was almost as big as she was. She had long red hair in ringlets and was dressed in a cute little jumper. She appeared to have been crying earlier and her mother was cooing to her as they left the makeshift mobile sales center, "See, Margot ? Mommy found you a new doll. This one is so pretty! Look at the pretty clothes it's wearing..." Chester couldn't help thinking how much this tiny tot reminded him of Sherry when she was that age and how much he loved her.
"Hey, take a look, buddy!" said the old man, obviously sizing Chester up correctly as an out of towner. He was wearing a baseball cap bearing the logo of the Metropolis baseball team and a matching red warm up jacket. "Lookin' for a keepsake of the Big Apricot? I got whatever you need right here! I got dolls, cards, statues, toys, pins, anything you can think of to remind you of your visit to Big Em! Ya want books? I got 'em right here! Ya want..."
"S'all right, I know what I want," the geology teacher interrupted. "I want that right there." Chester, a tall lanky man of 41 years of age, put his index finger on a beautiful oversized snow globe. Inside the crystal ball was a miniature skyline of Metropolis, complete with the Daily Planet building with its trademark sign. Above the tiny rooftops "flew" a red caped figure patrolling this mini-municipality. When the globe was shook, the little Superman circled the circumference of the orb and the grains of "snow" cascaded over everything inside.
"Great choice, pal!" said the pitchman. "It just so happens that I have that particular item on special today. Just nineteen ninety nine!"
"I'll give you ten," said Chester.
"I can see you're a shrewd bargainer, buddy! Tell ya what? I'll sacrifice it for seventeen eighty five!"
"Twelve!"
"Sixteen twenty five!"
"Fifteen dollars and that's all I can go." And Chester gave him a stoic "I don't care" face that put an end to the makeshift auction.
The old man looked at his customer for a moment as if this were the most important decision he would made today and then picked up the globe and gave it to Chester. "I'm making absolutely nothin' off of this sale, but it's the last one I got and you look like you got someone back home that really needs it. Sold! Fifteen bucks! Now, go on. Beat it! Give someone else a chance to break me, will ya?" At first Chester thought he had insulted the man, but as he began to leave, he saw the old timer wink at him with the barest of grins. It made him smile. Unfortunately, that smile would not last much longer.
Chester opened his briefcase and put his newly acquired treasure into a section that seemed almost as if made just for snow globes. Down the block, he spied the little four year old, who appeared to be checking her new doll for defects, while her mother was busy window shopping at a clothes outlet. Closing the briefcase and fastening it securely, he began to re-cross the street to the museum steps. Halfway between the crosswalk, however, he felt a strange rumbling beneath his feet, and he realized immediately that keeping his feet would be totally out of the question.
Before he knew it, he was spread eagled on the pavement trying to hold on as if he were clinging to a rodeo bronco with no bridle. All around him, others were tossing and turning in similar fashion, many with less success than he. And everywhere there was dust and glass and stone. His body ached with the impact of each missile that found him. His briefcase with all his notes and, more importantly, Sherry's toy had gotten away from him now. Stretching as much as he could, he managed to get a hand on the top of the valise as the ground continued to heave. Eight feet away from him, the earth opened up and swallowed four unlucky pedestrians whole, as though they were today's blue plate special. Three women and a man disappeared into the fissure as if Hell itself were summoning them directly to its halls.
Automobiles were thankfully scarce in the twenty second century as they gave way to more modern means of mass transport such as monotube trains and hovercraft. But there were still a few on the Metropolis roads and the drivers were in a panic as they had almost no control with the ground twisting and writhing beneath their wheels. One sedan was thrown twenty feet in the air towards Chester, who thought it was going to fall directly upon him. His eyes locked onto the vehicle, which seemed to hang suspended in mid air for minutes, as he pondered all the decisions of his life and mentally traced the paths which led him to be here now. Only it wasn't minutes. It was more like three seconds, and when man's monument to pollution crashed down, it miraculously missed Chester by mere inches, rolling on its side and crashing into the museum steps which now led up to nothing but rubble.
The once proud building of lore and science was now in a heap, covering everyone who had been inside with stone, slag, and twisted steel.
His ears had ceased to function for the duration of the quake, or so he thought. The cacophony of people screaming, streets ripping apart, buildings tumbling, and debris landing upon him had melded in such a way that seemed to cancel out all sound and replaced it with a dull hum in his brain. But now, it was broken by the faraway echoes of the little four year old crying mournfully in the distance.
Chester found he could get to his feet now. The initial tremor had run its course. Lifting his briefcase and ascertaining the location of the sobbing child, he managed to stagger over to her down the block, where her mother had been window shopping before the earthquake struck.
When he got to her, he found her clinging to her mother's leg and bawling with as much fear as God gave humanity. The building they were near had fared better than the museum, but the window was completely blown out. Momma was not moving. She was cut all over her face and body from the glass and glaze and blood was everywhere. Not hesitating, Chester felt for a pulse and checked for signs of breathing. There was a pulse! It was weak, but it was there. She was breathing, too, thank the Lord! A low moan... that's a good sign. She's going to make it! Chester stroked the little girl's red tresses and told her not to worry, that everything would be all right. Her mother was hurt but she would be okay.
"What's your name, baby? Are you hurt?" stammered Chester.
"My... name's... Kirsten," she managed between sobs, "I'm... okay... I... just... want... my... mommy... to be... all right!" He looked her over and amazingly there was hardly a scratch on her at all. It must have been a miracle she wasn't as injured as her mother.
He took his personal phone from his pocket and tried to call emergency on it, but nothing would issue forth but static. "I guess we'll just have to wait for help like everybody else, Kirsten. How is it you didn't get hurt, anyway? That glass and everything probably should have cut you like it did your mommy."
"It was... my doll!"
"Your doll?"
"Yes! Mommy was looking in the window and I had my doll up in the air over me. I was playing like he could fly! Then when it got loud and everything came down, I had him in front of me and he saved me! He loves me!"
Chester had forgotten about the plush doll. He looked around and found it at the little redhead's feet and picked it up. On the doll's back, sharp bits of glass and rock protruded where they had obviously impacted. Its "costume" was in tatters and the cape was all but gone. But on the other side, the side that had been facing Kirsten, the plush toy was clean as the day it was manufactured. Chester exhaled with a slow whistle as he put it together.
"Ooooohhhh..." The mother was coming around. "What happened? Why does it hurt so much...?" She suddenly remembered she had her child with her before the quake. Looking about and spotting her girl, she took the baby in her arms and said, "Kirsten! Oh, Honey, I was so scared! I thought you were going to be killed! But... you're not even hurt! Thank God! You're not hurt at all, are you! Oh, Sweetie, I'm so glad you're all right! But I'd like to know how you did it!" The lady then noticed Chester and asked him, "Sir, was it you? Did you save my little girl?"
Chester just looked the woman for a minute and sighed heavily. "No Ma'am," he said. "You won't believe it, but it looks like the one who saved your daughter..." He paused as he picked up the doll and showed it to the girl's mother, "was Superman!"
Momma looked at the doll, then her daughter, then Chester, then the doll again.
"Superman...?"
