AllFreeNovel
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y thing different is the exceptional cleanliness of the place. Usually scraps of discarded fabric rest amongst sketches and notepads of ideas littered on the corner desk.
The interior of the studio is round with a sparkling white dome-shaped ceiling. The black-painted floor sparkles even more than the ceiling due to the circle of high beam spotlights aimed straight at the podium in the center of the room. The walls are one large glass computer screen that Pepper uses to design suits.
The podium, my favorite spot, is where I get to stand as he uses holographs to mimic his suit designs on my body and make changes as necessary. I climb the three steps onto the platform and gaze at my surroundings. The last time I visited was a week before my birthday. Pepper had me come in for measurements before I took my Hero Exam. Now I need to find out if he’ll be using them or not.
Pepper returns with my latté in a purple paper cup with his name on it in faux rhinestones. Chewy joins me on the podium, circling my feet as if I’m holding a bag of dog treats or something. As I reach out to take it, the cup crumples in his hand, sending searing hot liquid all over his arm. He curses, flailing his burned hand.
“Pepper, I’m sorry!” I leap off the podium, guilt filling my stomach.
“Not your fault,” he calls out behind him as he dashes to the computer wall and swipes his hand across the screen. Tiny holes in the floor flood the space with an inch of water before receding into the ground. The crushed paper cup flows into a new hole in the side of the wall and disappears. I watch in awe as the water drains as fast as it came in and my feet dry seconds later when a cold fog drifts over them.
Pepper stretches out his formerly scalded arm and flexes his fingers. “Ah, that’s better. I’m so sorry, Maci.” He swipes his finger across his wrist MOD and the wall briefly displays the time, 3:42 p.m. “I’ll get you another one.”
“No, that’s okay.” I brace for the verbal backlash that’s about to come. But he just shrugs and checks the time again—still 3:42.
“So what can I do for you?” He asks.
“Well,” I bite my lower lip. “Pepper …”
His eyebrows rise. I speak each word slow and deliberate. “I was hoping you could help me out.”
“Help you out?” He bursts into a chuckle. “I can try, but I hardly know how I can help you. I’m the one here who—” He stops, bringing his hand up to his chin then pointing a finger at me. “Wait, what are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask suspiciously. He checks the time again. 3:43.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. What do you need?”
“I was wondering,” I start, but then I remove all questioning and doubt from my voice. If I’m going to get what I want, I need to demand it with authority. “I need you to tell me if you’re designing a Hero suit or a Retriever suit for me.”
His eyes narrow.
I hold my gaze. “Or maybe you aren’t designing me a suit at all?”
His chest deflates at my bold statement. “Honey, don’t say that. You’re getting a suit.”
“Which one?”
His eyes shift from my left to right. “I would lose my job if I told you.” He scratches his head and looks at the floor. “Of course I might lose it anyway.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. Pepper has been the sole designer of every Super suit since before I was born. From super high-tech Hero suits to basic-training suits and even sometimes doing consultations with human costume designers. His lightweight firefighter’s design even won him an honorary Fire Chief award in NYC.
“You’re the best,” I tell him. “They don’t even give you apprentices anymore because no one wants you to stop designing their suits.”
“I am the second best,” he says while studying his fingernails. They are painted purple with black King City crown decals. I have a ton of those decals at home. “Aurora was the best. She retired fifty years ago after having me as her apprentice for twelve years.”
He raises his head and meets my gaze. His eyes are solemn, no longer the excited and joyful eyes I’m so used to seeing. “She contacted me yesterday, after fifty years of retirement, and said she’s coming back.”
“What for? She can’t take her job back, can she?”
He shrugs. “She could if she wanted to. I don’t know why she’s returning. We haven’t spoken in years. She used to send me friendly Christmas cards but that stopped a while ago.”
“Did you maybe do something to make her mad?”
He shakes his head. “Never. She was my mentor. I look up to her and I’ve always shown her as much respect as I would to President Might.”
I bend down and pet Chewy. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
It’s amazing how quick I am to comfort others in the midst of my own emotional turmoil. Unlike Pepper, I actually have something to worry about. He’s probably freaking out about an old woman who wants to visit and have a latté. “Where does she live?”
