Hobbling down the stairs, I was met by rumbling voices. My parents were having an argument over something useless, probably a disagreement of some sort about one of my father's cases. There was always a distinct difference with this from when they were actually fighting.
'It's about time someone did something about that scum.'
My father forcefully threw his paper on to the kitchen sink. 'But he operates outside the law.' I could clearly hear the annoyance in his voice.
'What scum, mommy?' I rubbed my eyes, still feeling sleepy.
My parents instantly turned around. My mothers face read that she wished I hadn't walked in on this conversation. I knew I was still a child to her. It was my father who answered my question.
'A couple of mobsters were attacked this afternoon. It's the fifth attack in six nights, the attacker seems to only target people associated with the criminal industry.'
My mother shot him a furious look. 'She's twelve,' she yelled. This could very well be the beginning of an actual fight.
'She's old enough to let her babysit her little brother, but she's not old enough to be told about the real world?' was my father's fierce answer. This was going the wrong way. A woman's last word should be the end of an argument. Anything beyond that, would just start a new one. I had learned that much from the previous arguments my parents had had.
'Dad, can you bring me to practice today?' I tried changing the subject. I guess it worked, because the grimace on my father's face lightened immediately.
'Sure, honey, what time do you have to be there?'
As my mother exited the kitchen, she left a trail of her sweet perfume. That stuff always made me crinkle my nose. Not because it was such a horrible smell, she just wore so damn much. My father gazed at his leaving wife, probably wondering what he had done to make her leave all of a sudden. I knew what I had done. This was my father's first day off in ages, and I had claimed him just like that.
Swaying across the road like this, the soft humming beneath me, being a passenger in my father's car always made me feel at ease. I had been begging my father to tell me more about this mobster attacker for the past hour, and now he was finally talking.
'You always tell me about interesting cases,' had been the straw that broke the camel's back.
The stories had started not too long ago. Stories about a creature of the night, threatening the worst outlaws of society. Later, the creature was replaced by a giant bat, the stories getting less plausible with every time. But now the police corp had seen the result for themselves. Mobster hideouts all over the city were getting exposed and demolished. My father's force hadn't been able to make this many arrests since, well since forever.
This guy seemed amazing to me. The stories my father told me were fantastic! It was just like my mother said, someone was finally doing something about the worst scum in town. This guy, he was like... 'Like a superhero,' I said, amazed.
My father jumped on his brakes and stopped the car, in the middle of the streets.
'Dad, what-' are you doing, was what I wanted to say, looking outside to see if no cars were coming. But I was stopped by pointing finger.
'You listen to me, young lady,' he said, still pointing at me. 'This man is the worst scum of them all.' Funny how he uses the exact same words my mother does, and then turns them around to go against her. 'He mixes himself in things normal citizens should keep away from. He doesn't ask for permission, and he doesn't keep to the law.'
'Does he wear a cape?'
'Yes.'
'I rest my case.'
