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Clay sits out on the front porch a lot. Ivan and his sister have been gone for a couple of days, and he has spent every free hour sitting and watching the sidewalk in front of his house. Waiting for the man with the gall to lay hands on Ivan.
Desperation knows that he is there, he spies him through binoculars from the dining room of the home of Jamar, the drug dealer/purveyor of prostitution. The woman Laura is there; she is the mother of Jamar’s son and current boss of Desperation, who had hired the man to handle the seemingly indestructible Clay.
“It’s something off about that faggot bitch.” Laura says, sipping lemonade that she had made herself. She is perfecting recipes for the church brunch that the ladies group organized every third Saturday of the month to foster friendships. She and Jamar had invested a lot of money in that church, it was always a good idea to have a holy man in your pocket, it was good public relations, and Laura played her part well. It was like a switch she turned on and off.
“I swear he should be dead.”
“I saw that nigga grow,” Desperation says with a smile. “I normally don’t give a fuck, but why y’all beefing with this superhero nigga in the first place?”
“He got in Jamar’s face. People calling him a hero. We don’t need no heroes around here.” Laura dumps her glass of lemonade in the sink, and then the entire pitcher.
“Well, you got the right man for the job,” Desperation says. “I might give you this one for free.” He turns from the window and sits at the table, watching Laura start a new batch of lemonade.
“I ain’t never had real competition before.” Desperation is smiling and imagining the torture that he will bring to Clay. He has to bring his A game. It’s obvious that Clay is strong, so Desperation is ready to outsmart him, to pick at his weaknesses until he had no defences left.
“And I think I might be a faggot!” Desperation says with genuine surprise. “I was just fucking around with his boyfriend at first, but he ain’t been around and I want to see him.”
Laura shoots him a look. “Kill the faggot and take his boyfriend then. You don’t need no money.”
Desperation laughs. “Nah, I should take both. Gotta do better for him than his broke ass boyfriend doing now.”
“What are you gonna do to him?”
Desperation lifts his shoulders dismissively. “Wear him down.”
Three days go by, and Clay doesn’t see Danny at all. And then he is getting out of his car after work, and as soon as he puts a foot down in his driveway, something smashes the window of the driver’s side door and Clay falls back on the seat. He hears his car inundated by things, maybe rocks, banging into it and smashing windows. And then a baseball smashes against his dashboard and thuds down on his chest. When the barrage stops, he looks up and sees four teenagers, obviously baseball players for a local team because they wear their uniforms. They are bigger than Clay realized baseball players are, and two have tall trash cans full of balls that they have barely made a dent in. The other two have bats; one has a wooden and a metal bat. Clay surveys his yard.
“You little fuckers are cleaning these up.” Clay growls as his body grows noticeably in size.
One of the pitchers, a tall black young man who looked to be the oldest, winds up fast and then throws a pitch that hits solidly on his shoulder. He feels it bounce off of his bone and he knows that it will bruise. The other pitcher, a white girl about a foot shorter, hits him in his shin and when Clay bends to touch it, the tall black one hits him in the forehead.
Clay falls to one knee and let’s out a growl that sets the four baseball players back on their heels, and then he rushes the trashcans full of balls. The players retreat, much more nimbly than he anticipates. The two players with bats, both muscled hispanic males, fall back into defensive positions, holding bats ready to swing. The female pitcher flips away like a gymnast, and the male pitcher follows suit though his acrobatics are not as crisp as the female’s. Both pitchers stumbled over the balls loose in the driveway and the yard and Clay focuses his attention on the batters. The biggest one, who is almost as tall as Clay, winds up and swings to strike Clay in the ribs, but Clay’s reflexes are fast enough that he catches the bat and rips it from the young man’s hands. His reflexes are at their best and it feels as though he can anticipate the movements of his four assailants. He catches the bat of the other batter and punches him hard in the chest and the boy falls back. Then Clay slips and falls on his back; there is an obscene amount of balls on the ground and he struggles to steady himself.
“You look like a turtle, sweetness.” Desperation yells.
Clay stumbles up and manages to steady himself. The baseball players are smiling behind Desperation.
“Thank y’all, I got it from here,” he says as the players leave. “Round of applause for the Hurricanes. Jamar pay good money for them jerseys. They look sharp don’t they?”
“Get these fucking balls!” Clay yells and everyone ignores him. Then he jumps high in their direction and he is surprised when Desperation meets him midair and sucker pinches him in the face. Clay falls hard on his side and he feels the balls jam against his rib cage and his legs. He looks up surprised as Desperation stands over him.
“You ain’t the only nigga with superpowers.” Desperation says, smiling and showing his teeth. Clay notices a long scar on Desperation’s cheek that he had not noticed before. It snakes from just above his ear and crosses his cheek in a diagonal. It’s huge and silver and Clay puzzles at it.
“Well get up, nigga. Let’s get this over with.” Desperation stands ready and Clay recognizes his stance. He must be a mixed-martial arts fighter.
Clay gets up and he roars loudly in the direction of Desperation who braces himself against the force. The balls roll away, clearing a space for their conflict.
“Let’s go,” Clay says.
Desperation runs full speed at Clay, and Clay flips back just in time to kick Desperation in the chin. The man stumbles, then quickly regains his footing and he lunges again at Clay just as he lands. He tackles Clay to the ground and lands on top of him, but Clay flips him over his head and then he is up. Clay lifts his right leg high meaning to smash his foot into Desperation’s face, but the man rolls away just in time, and when he is on his stomach, he pushes up and jumps high into the air. Clay follows him, and the two are a fury of punches until they land with a force that shakes the yard. Desperation dodges Clay’s jabs and manages to grab his arm, which he uses to slam Clay onto his back, and then he twists, hoping to put Clay in a hold. But Clay is nimble and he rolls out of the hold and manages to stand with Desperation still holding his arm. Clay smashes his foot into Desperation’s chest and he flies across the yard. When he stands, he brushes himself off.
“I see now,” Desperation says smiling. “We can finish this later. I think I got something for you sweetness.”
Clay roars, he hates being called sweetness, and he jumps in the direction of Desperation who times a punch perfectly to connect and send Clay sliding on his back.
“I said we can finish this later. You got some baseballs to clean up.” Desperation laughs, and then he takes off, jumping like Clay does, but not nearly as far.
When he is standing again, Clay roars loudly and then he regains his composure. When he is normal size, he eyes his yard with annoyance.
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