Blackjack Hero Journal #8

Wow, I let a month pass between posts. Sorry about that guys, but I guess now I'm turning into a real blogger, no? "I'm neglecting my blog," I can say at wine and cheese parties. Seriously, though, I'm sorry and have no excuse. I'll be here more in the coming year.

Blackjack three is coming along, most importantly because I've made real headway with the plot and I think I have a clear way from the first to the last page, a driving force that will take Blackjack through our story. And a new (and old) villain that will be a bit out of left field. I'll explain my thinking in the acknowledgements, for now just hang tight.

As far as act one, I read it over and it's shit. And not shit in the way that some people get all puffy and defensive so other people can say, "no, you're not fat at all, you're SVELTE." No, it's crap. The idea is there, and some of the stuff is pretty decent, but the writing is garbage, it's not ready for the morning edition, much less primetime. In any case, I'm going to share a scene that maybe new to some of you. It's unedited crappy nine pages that I may have released prior, but it's what I think will open the book, setting up the story to come.

The idea isn't to do a finale to a trilogy, where the Lightbringers fall out of the sky like Mass Effect-ish Reapers or Halo's Covenant and we have one last battle to protect humanity, but instead to embark on a longer series, with our miscreant wannabe hero, sometimes villain Blackjack squarely in the lead. Read on...

Excerpt from Blackjack Hero:

"See the problem with your sorry ass is that all your great moments, no one's ever been there to see them,” Moe said sitting at the edge of my bed. A small, portable chess table sat atop my chest, which was wrapped with a heavy cast while I recovered from my fight with Lord Mighty. “Your worst moments? Them shit's televised. What do you want to move?"

"Pawn," I said, making the effort to move it, but unable to due to my full-body casting.

"Nah, man. I'll take your bishop. Move the other bishop here." Moe shifted my bishop forward, taking one of his pawns.

"Okay."

"So that's a bad thing," I asked.

"The bishop?"

"No, that you got shit backwards. People that make decisions, write the checks and shit, all they know is Blackjack's the bad that threw Pulsewave off a building. And that makes people not trust you," he said moving a pawn.

"I bet," I said.

"That's a bitch you have to live with," he said, shaking his head. "But it’s also something you have going for you."

"The powers that be hate and distrust me and that's a good thing?"

Moe laughed, "That's what I'm saying. See, being good with the cops is one thing, but being good with the people, that's what you want."

"How does people liking me keep my ass out of jail?"

"Nigga, you'd be in jail already," he said dismissing me. "Look at you. Now's the time to put your ass away, not later when you're all good. Take like twenty guys like me to put you down."

I chuckled, "Or one little old lady with a funny looking machine."

"Excuse me?"

I shook my head, "Nevermind."

He stared at me, still thinking about my "old lady with a machine" comment before shaking his head and going on.

"Well, I'm talking about acceptance, public opinion and shit. That's what you gauge it on. And with you being a former villain? Man, that plays real nice. People want those stories of redemption. Badass motherfucker pulling cats out of trees and shit. I saw a poll the other day on TV where you had 53% approval rating. Only 29% hate your guts. You gonna move or you want me to move for you?"

"Wait, 53%?"

He nodded. "Move your bishop here now," he added, moving my bishop across the board.

"That and 29% only makes 82. Where”s the other 18%?"

Moe shrugged, "They don't give a fuck 'bout you one way or the other. But those are good numbers man. Get you in some good hands, some good PR people and you can have your own doll and shit. Make some serious money."

"Come on.”

He stood waving his arms to emphasize his point, "That's right, I said it. Money. Don't be turning into some dumb shit don't like money, or is like, that shit's not what I'm about. You gotta worry about it, you know what I mean? You gotta. Don't be some stupid ass homeless hero. Ever seen one?"

I shook my head as much as the casts would allow.

"Well, come to Brooklyn. Few of them walking the streets, picking food outta garbage cans and shit. Ask one motherfucker what he can do. Nigga can fly. Imagine that. He can fly and he's homeless. It's sad as fuck. Can't have no homeless Blackjack walking the streets of wherever the fuck it is you're from."

"Modesto," I said.

"Say that again?" he said, most of his attention on moving a knight into dangerous territory near my king.

"Modesto. It's in California."

"Don't matter where it is, poor motherfuckers be homeless all over and that’s for damned sure. If there’s people there, then there’s folk falling through the cracks, suffering. That ain't gonna be you, you hear me? I’m gonna hook you up with some people that’ll do all your marketing. I’ve got them on my hair products line and my comic books.”

I laughed at the thought of “Super Moe” comics.

“I’m gonna send you a case, see if you can do something about your hair. Shit’s like sticky and oily. You Italian, right?”

“No, American,” I said. “And move my pawn out against the knight.”

“Fucking American, he says,” he laughed. “Nah, that pawn won’t do shit there. Move this rook here, and you’re good. See?”

“You have your own comic?”

He nodded. “Self-published. We do like 20 ‘kay’ issues a month. It’s me against my nemesis, a black chick called Evil Lucy. She’s got big-ass tits, and fights with a whip. I’ll send you one of the trade paperbacks.”

Moe moved his knight, taking one of my pawns thanks to him moving my rook out of the way.

“That’s convenient,” I said.

He shrugged, “I was gonna do that anyway, nigga. Anyway, I know you think you got shit straight with Apogee and whatever. I mean, I know she’s rich as fuck, but you don’t wanna be one of those held-bitches.”

“Kept men,” I corrected. “Move the rook back, take that knight.”

“Whatever you call them,” he said. “Take the knight? You stupid? I’ll checkmate you if you do.”

I strained my eyes, trying to see what he meant, but for now my king was fine.

“In like five moves, dog. Come on, man,” he said, moving one of my pawns across the board from where his knight was threatening. “You gotta start thinking of shit like five, ten moves ahead. If not you get eaten alive. And whatever you call it, you can’t have your woman paying the bills. You need your own money. Clean money, now, not the shit you were doing before.”

I chuckled, and it hurt deep in my ribcage, just behind the sternum.

“You with Apogee, right?” He stared at me with amazement, as if he, too, was as taken with her as the rest of the world.

“I don’t know,” I said.

Moe shook his head, “Was too good to be true,” he said. “I didn’t figure she’d just leave you here a whole week without reason. Not with you all fucked up like this.”

“I lose the cast today,” I said, the prospect of being free of the full body cast causing me to get excited at just the mention.

“So where is she?” He let the question linger for a moment, his head cocked to the side as if emphasizing the point. Once satisfied, he moved his queen to a perfect position to threaten my king with support from his knight. “See what I mean that you need your own shit? Can’t count on anyone these days. She might be the biggest heroine and shit, but that don’t mean anything to you and putting food on the table. Paying rent. Be your own man, goddammit.”

“I hear you,” I said

“You even get any from that woman?” he said, his voice dropping as if being coy. At the same time, he moved one of my bishops, the illusion of his helping me now completely gone as he played alone.

I shook my head.

“I’ve been here a week,” I said. “Like this.”

“Damn shame. Well, you had your chance. Woman like that you gotta have something to offer. Like-“

There was movement outside the modular light walls of Superdynamic’s medlab. A few people were approaching the door, pausing Moe and drawing both of our attentions.

Then she walked in.

She’s known to the world as Apogee, and she’s the woman I love, the woman that saved me. The only person to ever trust me, to give me a chance. To me she’s Madelyne Hughes. To me, she’s the world.

There were other people, a doctor and some nurses following her, but they were almost blurred as if in the far background. Apogee wore her uniform, and it looked dirty and torn, as if she’d been in a scrape. The medical staff were after her to check her condition, as it looked like it had been a rough fight, but she shrugged them off and came toward me, her eyes cradling me like a baby.

“There he is,” she said, smiling as she, like me, focused and noticed big Moe next to me. “You’ve been keeping an eye on him Moe? Make sure he doesn’t get frisky with the nurses?”

Moe chuckled, excited to have a woman of such beauty talking to him, but also thrilled for me by what Apogee’s arrival and her attitude meant.

“Trying to teach this big bastard how to play chess, but all he wants to do is talk about you.”

She smiled and cocked her head, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Is that a fact?”

Moe stood and took the chessboard off my chest, placing it on a table beside my bed. “We finish this shit later, dog,” he told me.

“Maybe I let you win next time,” I said.

“You fighting Primal or something, Apogee?” Moe said moving past, using the excuse of her rough shape to ogle her as her attention was set on me.

“I wish,” she said, exhaling with exhaustion at the mention of her recent scrape. “Better one big, dumb lug to fight than a dozen stupid villains, all trying to rip your damned costume off.”

Moe beamed, “That’d be a damned shame. Next time you head out with your boys, ask me along.”

She turned to regard him, as he left the room, having come almost to my bed, and I was rewarded with an angle shot of her unearthly figure.

“I might take you up on that, big guy,” she said.

He paused at the door, facing her and suddenly struck with a bout of bashfulness. “Well, I leave you two lovebirds. My work here, is done,” he said, bowing and walking out with a flourish.

She turned back to me, with a smile and reached over for a chair, pulling it up so she could sit beside me.

“So,” I said.

“So,” she said. “Sorry about being AWOL.”

“Super Dee told me something about an uprising in Brazil the other night, but I think I was on some heavy meds.”

“It’s still hurting?”

I tried shaking my head, “I so medicated I can’t feel my legs.”

She giggled, reaching forward and taking my right hand. Only my thumb shot out of the full body cast, and I did my best to grasp her hand with it.

“It’s coming off later,” I said, motioning to the cast with my eyes. “Then I’ll get a lower body one and one for each shoulder/elbow joint. Oh and a separate one for the neck and back.”

“Sounds like fun,” she said, unable to look at me.

“What’s wrong?” I said.

She shook her head.

“Apogee…”

Madelyne smiled, a pained grimace dancing across her face until she lowered her gaze, again unable to look at me.

I knew what it was. We needed to have “that talk”, the talk where she told me what’s what. A few moments of weakness, when I was near dead, wasn’t enough to warrant an immediate love affair. That kind of crap only happens in the movies, and I’m no Robert Redford. Hell, she was Apogee, the world’s best known and most beloved heroine. She’d been around over a decade, everyone wanted to be with her. What chance did a crippled former villain have with a woman like her anyway? A fool’s chance.

“I know Apogee,” I said.

She looked up.

“About us, it’s just-“

“Huh?” she said, her face changing.

“I don’t expect anything,” I went on, trying to give her a way out, trying to ease her pain. “I know that it was kind of a crazy run there, but I don’t have expectations of-“

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Goddamnit, let me finish.”

She sat up, not liking being talked to that way.

“I know what you said, when I was…you know-“

“Dale-“

“-about to die and-“

“Dale!”

“What?”

“Just don’t say anything, okay?” she said moving closer, putting both elbows on the bed beside me.

Madelyne waited for me to nod in acknowledgement before even trying to speak. She was torn, almost breaking into tears, and I knew what was coming. “Hey, it’s a nice dream, kiddo, but I’m with some other guy.” Or, “I don’t date assholes that killed my friends.”

“We got ambushed,” she said. “I think Haha set the whole thing up. Chen got captured by Baron Blitzkrieg.”

Chen was Mirage, super hero and as close to a real father as Madelyne had these days. He also hated my guts like no other person alive, but for Apogee’s sake he was behaving these days.

“Apogee…” I said, overwhelmed by both the news of her friend’s abduction, and by the implication of Blitzkrieg returning to action. The Baron had to be 120 years old and still going strong, and despite the recent influx of villains into the scene, he was still one of the top threats against the world.

She nodded, tears finally coming, wiping her face.

“Damage is hurt pretty bad,” she said, mentioning another member of her reformed group, The Revolution. “Probably will never walk again. He’s downstairs.”

Damage was a density controller, and one of the deadliest men on the planet. The list of people who could face down Baron Blitzkrieg and live to tell the tale was short, but Damage’s name had to be at or very near the top.

“How?” I asked.

Apogee spread her fingers, bewildered.

“His suit is new, like nothing we’ve ever seen before. And he has like fifty followers. In the end, we had to run. I grabbed Dominus and Damage and ran.”

“What about Hyper?” I asked of the remaining member of The Revolution, who served the purpose of tank and bruiser. Kind of my role only a big fat guy.

She shook her head bitterly, indicating that he hadn’t made it.

“Jesus,” I said.

Reaching out, she took my hand again.

“I felt like a rookie out there, Dale,” she said. “Slow and weak. It was awful.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to take her into my arms, hold her and tell her it would be okay, but I couldn’t even move beyond micro gestures. These people were more than just teammates and acquaintances. Her relationships with Damage and Dominus were over a decade long, and twice that with Mirage, and to have her team of friends manhandled easily was too much for her to bear.

“I’m sorry,” I said, though I hated how feeble it sounded.

She lifted her tear stained face, and smiled, “We have to get you out of this crap and back on the streets.”

“I’m working on it. I feel like you guys put me on the shelf.”

“I’m kidding, Dale,” she said. “Take your time and get well. I need my man in tip top shape,” she added, probably the best words I’ve heard in my whole life, coupled with a fiendish smile she flashed that was filled with promise.

But something about what she had said ate at me, and my mind raced back to it.

“What did you say about his armor?”

“Blitzkrieg’s?” she asked, surprised I would bypass the touching moment with talk of work. “Yeah, it’s different. Some strange glowing blue armor that protected him against anything we threw at him. Damage’s powers didn’t work on it, and my fists just bounced right off.”

“Glowing blue…” I said. “Madelyne, was it blue like the dagger?” I asked, referring to a weapon she and I were very familiar with, a weapon that in the hands of my former nemesis Dr. Zundergrub had almost killed Apogee. A weapon that had caused scars on my arms, shoulders and face. Wounds that never fully healed.

Apogee shrugged, giving it some thought, before the horrible realization hit her and she nodded severely.

“He’s been to Shard World,” I said, knowing there was only one place that rare metal ever existed.

“Oh, my God,” she said. “And Haha’s helping him.”