"So?" I said. "I kick the punks' butts. I save the guy. Big deal."
"What does that make you, Wonder Woman?" DJ remarked, going into a backflip on the mat. It's a little distracting when someone's doing gymnastics in front of you.
We were in the Hangar's exercise area, converted from the gymnasium. The Hangar is basically this old school building that was left behind when the union decided to shut it down due to budget concerns. Now it serves as our hideout. I'd named it the Hangar after its airstrip-sized parking lot.
"And what happens while I'm saving the day?" I continued. "The guy turns the gun on me and calls me a mutant. I nearly lost my beef."
"Uh-huh. Could totally see you doing that," Amos Darvosky said, leaning against the bleachers which we had yet to take out. Vinny Lee Marzera was also there, sitting down on said bleachers, applauding DJ's backflip. Of course, while we were in an argument. Because Vinny Lee. "But yeah, maybe you should have left that to Knuckles. Or, I dunno, just minded your own business."
I know. You're thinking, Um, Imira? Back up. You've left out a few things. Like, do you mean Knuckles the Echidna? And how do you know him?
To answer the first question: yes, that's very much who I mean. As for the second?
Good question.
It started a month and a half ago. I'd been on a run of bad treatment. Sure, my mom had learned the hard way I was not her slave, but that didn't stop her from treating me poorly in other ways. My father mostly turned a blind eye. The only ones who didn't abuse me were my half-siblings, Achmed and Fatima, but they were children. That didn't exactly mean anything.
I may have mentioned I hadn't always been able to control my strength. As a kid, I wasn't always aware of how much I had, but I had been capable of seriously hurting people without even trying. One time when I was six, I spotted a pair of bullies ganging up on a classmate on the school playground. Before you could say Saudi Arabia, I was over there, yelling at them – I don't remember what exactly I yelled (I was a kid, after all) – but I do remember punching one of the bullies so hard he got a concussion. I wound up with two days' detention for fighting with him, although neither I nor my parents could ever fully explain how I'd hurt him so badly. Whatever the case, that particular bully never bothered me after the incident.
Another time when I was seven, a lion escaped at the zoo where we were taking a field trip. The kids were encouraged to stay calm and in the building, but of course I'm not one to follow orders, so I went out to challenge the lion. I still remember the looks on the zookeepers' faces when they saw the lion unconscious, next to a parked trimmer, and me sitting on top of it – and not a scratch on me. Once again, I couldn't explain it, and eventually they decided it must've knocked itself out in a freak lawnmower accident.
Every time I managed to hurt something or someone, it was by my own power. No one had a good explanation for how a girl could be so strong. Yes, there was a disorder out there that gives women manly attributes – Caster Semayana had it, I have it to some extent – but no way could it be the whole excuse. This was just one of a series of problems that screwed up my social life – I began withdrawing from people as I was afraid I'd hurt them.
This, compounded with the stress of my family life, led me to run away quite a few times. The last – very last – time was a month and a half ago, when I ran into Knuckles. He actually saw my problem for what it was – even sympathized with my situation. He taught me how to control my strength, how to harness it into something helpful instead of destructive. But his help didn't stop there. I made a habit of visiting him, and he in turn was willing to defend me if I got into a situation where my strength alone wasn't enough to save my life. Which was pretty fortunate, because not long after I met Knuckles, I started getting attacked by things that very much weren't human. Or friendly. However, I couldn't talk about those to anyone, because they'd just think I was crazy. I wasn't sure how I saw them either, at first.
And little did I know that was only the beginning of my new set of headaches.
A month ago, I ran afoul of a couple of bullies and was about to summon Knuckles to deal with them when some random strangers – DJ, Amos, and Vinny Lee – intervened, which was quite a first for me.
Normally that would be a turnaround, yes. But then, I'd barely gotten to know those three – and I even had an interest in befriending them – when I found myself right in the middle of a quest to find some weird doctor. Then, in the next instant, I was thrown head-first into the middle of a political and social crisis I was much too young for.
Apparently the avatars – the superhuman paradox species of which my friend Knuckles was a part – had landed in Philly to defend its human inhabitants, such as myself. But there's one small problem – the humans in Philly, let alone the whole country, can't seem to get along. They're tearing into each other on account of some petty excuses – someone's race or gender identity, for example. Any more of this, the whole world could fall into the Dark Ages – which, given my own family troubles, I definitely didn't need in my life. Thus, someone was needed to keep humanity in line so the avatars wouldn't have to.
Which brings up another question you might have: Whaaat?
Sorry. I should slow it all down. Avatars are much stronger than humans, and they don't have any wish to attack anyone weaker than them. It's dishonorable to them, makes them descend to the level of bullies. If I'm being honest, I think the avatars have a better grasp of a code of honor and chivalry than most humans do.
But where was I? Oh, yes. Someone was needed to keep humanity from descending into utter insanity and darkness. With my luck, I was one of those people chosen – along with the humans who'd stopped the bullies and traveled with me.
How to describe my newfound friends?
I think I'll start with DJ.
From a distance, DJ appears to be supermodel material. Blond hair in a ponytail, blue eyes, athletic but still shapely figure – which was hardly obscured by the leotard and skirt she was in the habit of wearing. But I knew better. DJ might look like the next Elizabeth Taylor or Barbie poser or whatever, but I'd seen her in action enough times to know that she was anything but a ditzy blonde – certainly way more no-nonsense than most Los Angeles transplants I'd met. She even kept her bling on the down-low, with her Forcecuff, a cuff-sized magic bracelet (which could channel multiple powers, much like the Omnitrix), and a simple silver cross necklace (which she kept for sentimental reasons). None of the glitz and glam of Hollywood. In fact, from the way she talked about Tinseltown, I got the impression that she'd really hated the city when she lived in it.
I guess you could say we were sort of kin. I could always sense this complete Amazon in her, screaming to be let out. But unlike me, DJ always seemed to keep it under control. Small wonder, then, that she was at the head of our group and not me. Not that I minded this, of course. Given that she headed up the effort to get the bullies away from me, I respected her.
Then there's Amos. The boy in our group and the pain in my rear. He was smaller (of course, that's moot when you're the tallest in the group), with a habit of wearing pink that always bugged me. I'd suggested blue or something more boyish, but he always stuck with that Barbie pink. He's stubborn like that. He also has a habit of cracking annoying or just really stupid jokes when he's nervous. I mean, he does joke a lot, but especially when he's nervous. It always seems to get on my own nerves.
In short, I don't understand why DJ bothers keeping him around. If I'm being honest, I think even she can't shake him off. But I also suspect she has some inexplicable feelings for that boy. Sheesh. And to make matters more complicated, he's kinda the one who came up with the name VLADJI for our little group.
Then there's Vinny Lee. Oh, brother. How do I explain that one?
Vinny Lee has trouble with gender identity – sometimes identifying as male, but most times identifying as female. This was one of the few times he identified as male – fortunately, those never seemed to last a full day. I never much liked those who distanced themselves from their birth gender, and only put up with Vinny Lee because he was actually trying to do something about that – as in, fighting to stay cis. (I mean, say what you will about that, but you can't help but say something.)
He's more than a little unpredictable – one moment singing and dancing, the next thoughtful and serious. I can never even make sense of him. But DJ seems to think he's special.
But back to the story.
"That was kinda stupid," Amos continued, fidgeting with his necklace. It was a maroon pendant with a matching chain. The pendant was emblazoned with a Hebrew letter daleth inside a David's star, both in green. The Doctor had given it to him on our commissioning, as he had given DJ her Forcecuff and me my hijab. He'd said that it would activate – whatever that meant – when he found out where his talents lay, but I hadn't seen much out of the Jew that would be worthy of triggering the pendant.
"Sure, Captain Obvious," I commented.
"I think Imira did the right thing there, amigo," Vinny Lee cut in. He's constantly switching between English and Spanish like they're interchangeable tools. It does get a little bothersome, especially when he's doing so at a mile a minute.
"Ohh… kay," I said. I was never sure whether to agree with him – mainly because his mental state could be questionable at times. "Besides, I saved the old guy's life, and I don't even get a thank-you."
"I'm with Vinny Lee," said Miles "Tails" Prower, the avatar who'd just entered the room. "I think that was… kinda heroic."
And that was that. It's really hard to argue when someone calls you a hero.
"Any updates lately?" DJ asked. Tails was a beast with technology – he'd created a working computer for the Cyberoom, our cyber lookout within the Hangar, out of old computer parts, after all. He was also constantly checking that computer for anything new – at least, as far as inexplicable incidents or hate speech.
These were the sort of things VLADJI – the Virtuous Lived Adolescents Dealing Justice Impartially, as Amos had put it – dealt with regularly. According to the Vortex, we were supposed to help the avatars keep the peace with humans – sort of their liaison, if you may. However, let me tell you, it was not easy. The scuffle with the humans earlier was just one example of that difficulty – and not even a very good one at that.
"Something you guys should look at," Tails said, the two tails that gave him his nickname flicking up and down like mad. He doesn't look like much – just a regular kid fox (if you call a humanoid fox regular, anyway) with yellow fur and blue eyes – especially when you consider his attire – white gloves and red and white shoes with blue jeans, a red Marvin the Martian t-shirt, and black-rimmed glasses, which made him look like more of a geek. (Did he purposely go for that look?) But his whole bearing gave the impression of a supremely intellectual boy – and a very powerful one at that. And if that up-and-down movement of his tails was any indicator, he had just come back from reading something impressive.
"Do tell me what," I responded, perhaps a little snappishly. Tails has a habit of milking the suspense that gets on my nerves even worse than Amos' antics – which is really saying something. I like getting it straight out. And I had had a long night. You know how it goes.
Instead of responding, Tails beckoned and disappeared around the corner. (I don't mean it literally, although he could disappear as well.)
"Remind me why I can't smack him?" I muttered.
I knew perfectly well why. Avatars are invulnerable – a benefit of their paradoxical nature (they're spawned from tech and magic at once – I'll get a headache if I have to explain) – and can shake off most pain. However, this just made their annoying remarks… well, more infuriating. I was beginning to understand why most humans couldn't make sense of those guys.
"Nothing left to do except follow," DJ said.
We got up and followed where Tails led us. He'd waited outside the door and then, once we'd reached it, led us down the hallways all the way to the Cyberoom.
