For as long as Francine could remember (and to her it seemed like a very long time), she had spent every Saturday morning at temple, in the exact same meetinghouse on Edison Street. Not so today—she had elected to spend the time with her British friend Beat Simon, in her small, paper-strewn apartment. While Mrs. Simon tapped out her latest fantasy novel on the computer (No Gruel for You!, the sequel to Bad Dragon! No Damsel! and Bad Zombie! No Brain!), Francine and Beat lounged carelessly in front of the TV, wiggling their toes inside their matching bunny slippers.
"It's hard to believe," said Francine wistfully. "My parents are Jewish, my grandparents are Jewish, my great-grandfather survived the Warsaw Ghetto—but today, I am a Christian."
Beat nodded lazily. "Your mum and dad will surely give you a tongue-lashing when they return for you," she remarked. "I don't see why people make such a big fuss about religion. To me, changing one's religion is tantamount to playing tennis instead of badminton—in the long run, one racket's as good as another."
"So," said Francine, "you don't believe in God, or Jesus, or any of that?"
"Not really," said Beat, shaking her head.
Francine pursed her lips. With a hint of earnestness she said, "Everybody dies sooner or later, Beat. When it comes your time, and you go to the other side and see God, what do you think he'll say?"
After a second's thought Beat replied, "I imagine he'd say, 'Won't you come in for a spot o' tea?'"
It was almost noon, but Buster preferred to remain in bed, holding a pillow over his ears to block out the acrimonious sounds his parents were making in the next room. It was no easy feat, considering the length of his ears. I wish I had another pillow, he thought.
"Bitzi, darling," said Harry Mills contritely. "Every night I spend at the hotel without you is almost unbearable. I miss your eyes, your skin, your scent…even your snoring. If only I'd known before of the loneliness, and the pain, of not having you at my side, I…I would've tried even harder to persuade you to admit that you're wrong."
Bitzi, filing her nails and wearing a burgundy tank top, hardly acknowledged his presence. "Your words say one thing, but your actions in London say another," she said coldly. "You ran away, leaving me alone with my baby, literally in the middle of an alien invasion. What will Petula think of you when I tell her what you did? Will she look up to you? I don't think so."
"Oh, Bitzi," muttered Harry as he paced around the bedroom, wringing his hands. "Bitzi, Bitzi, Bitzi…if only I could show you how I feel…if only you'd have pity on me."
"It may interest you to know," the rabbit woman went on, "that Herb Haney is due to be released from government custody on Tuesday evening."
"Herb Haney?" said the consternated Harry. "You're…you're not considering…"
"Yes, I am considering," said Bitzi with a gloating grin. "I realize now what a mistake I made when I passed on him all those years ago."
Buster overheard the name, and his intestines turned to water.
"Bitzi, the man has an artificial heart from outer space," Harry protested. "You don't know what else has changed about him since he was shot. Is he still fully human? Can he still…you know…"
"I don't see why not," said Bitzi. "If you had a bionic heart, wouldn't you last longer in bed?"
His imagination taking over, Buster lapsed into a fantasy sequence…
Herbert Haney. Principal. A man barely alive. Ladies and gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We can make him better than he was. Better. Stronger. Stricter. But not cooler.
Herbert Haney—The Six Trillion Dollar Dad. Six trillion, Buster figured, was the present-day equivalent of six million, adjusted for inflation and malpractice insurance.
Wandering along a country road, he noticed a tall rabbit man who wore a straw hat and faded blue overalls on top of what looked like red and blue tights. Drawing closer, he blurted out in amazement, "Bionic Bunny! What are you doing here?"
The superhero turned and smiled, leaving his spade sticking out of the soil. "What I've always wanted to do," he said casually. "Raising rhododendrons. Aren't they the most beautiful things you've ever seen?"
"But…but…" stammered Buster.
"You sound like a motorboat," said Bionic Bunny. "Here, have a packet of seeds."
"But you shouldn't be here," said the rabbit boy indignantly. "You should be up in the sky, watching out for villains and defending us from the forces of evil."
"Bah," said the jocular hero. "I'm no longer needed, now that the world is protected by…YOUR DAD!"
"Hey, where's that music coming from?" wondered Buster as a triumphant brass fanfare greeted his ears. In less than no time at all, the armor-clad champion Principal Man came rocketing from the sky, making a perfect two-point landing between two of Bionic Bunny's prize bushes.
"Get out your notebooks," he trumpeted. "Principal Man is here!"
"Aww, man," groaned Buster. "My mom married the weirdest guy in the universe. He even makes Bionic Bunny look normal."
"I don't like your tone," said Principal Man, handing the boy a sheet of paper. "Tremble before my Detention Slip of Justice!"
"Huh?" said Buster, horrified. "You can't give me detention! You're my dad!"
"Yes, I'm your dad," said the man in platinum armor. "But first and foremost, I'm a principal. And a superhero. And your dad. And a principal again." He looked down at his watch, on which a picture of himself kept time with its arms. "Holey moley! I'm late for my three-o'clock battle with Dr. Plague!"
"Go easy on the old man," said Bionic Bunny as he knelt down to dig another seed hole.
"Give your mother my regards," said Principal Man, laying a gloved hand on Buster's shoulder. "If I'm not home in time for dinner, just stow it in the fridge, and I'll warm it up with my heat vision when I get back."
"But you're never home in time for dinner," said the boy dolefully.
"I love you too, son," said the hero, raising his arms to the heavens. "When evil threatens I'm always nigh, it's up, up, up, and away I fly!"
As he watched his stepfather vanish into the stratosphere, Buster started to fantasize about attending a special high school for children of superheroes, only to discover that he alone among the student body had no powers…
To be continued