October, 1999

 

66 Bell St.

Loft 308

Seattle, WA

 

Knock, knock.

Nothing.

A little louder.  Knock, Knock.  Still nothing.

Wallace Wood could hear faint music from the other side of the door.   I'll try my key, he thought as he pulled the key ring from his pocket and fumbled for the newly attached key.  I really hope she doesn't have some guy over, he thought again as he inserted the key and turned the lock.  Well she gave me the key for a reason and she's expecting me.  Hell, I told her when she moved out that I would respect her space, but if I find a some tatooed guy in the kitchen naked and cooking eggs, I'm going to lose it. 

He replaced the key ring and opened the door slowly.  He could now hear the music a little louder.  Soft, female vocalist, romantic.  He sniffed the air.  Fresh paint, cat, no eggs.  He opened the door a bit further and peered around the corner into the living space.  No naked guy...good.

"Holly?  Honey?" he asked aloud in his baritone, Texan drawl.  "Anyone home?"

A voice from upstairs.  "Hey Dad, is that you?"

Wally walked in the door and closed it behind him.  Walking across the kitchen/entryway, he set the package down on the counter.  "Yeah honey, it's me," he replied.  "What are you doing up there?"

"Come on up and take a look."

The balding, heavyset, barrel-chested Texan walked up the stairs of his daughter's new downtown loft.  The paint smell was heavy here in the non-ventilated stairway.  Well that will pass soon enough, he thought, after all she's only been in the place a few days.

He emerged into the carpeted upstairs bedroom.  "What are you doing up there?" he asked looking at his daughter standing on a ladder, paintbrush in hand. Holly Wood was an attractive 20-year old woman.  She had her mother's deep brown eyes and her shoulder-length dark hair was tucked into a ponytail running through the back of a Seattle Mariners ball cap.  Her athletic frame was modestly covered in sweatpants and a University of Washington "Huskies" Athletic Dept. T-shirt.  Wally noted that the shirt was well worn, sporting several holes, and that it was several sizes too large for her. Better not to ask about that... he thought.  "Wallpaper border?" he looked around his daughter's room, "What IS that?"

Holly smiled at her father as she climbed down the ladder.  At the bottom she motioned for her father to join her at the center of the room.  "Can't you tell?"

"Are those...?"  Wally peered from his daughter's viewpoint, "...the funny papers?"

Holly smiled at her father.  He always called them funny papers.  "COMIC BOOKS, Dad.  Old comic books."  She pointed at one for her father.  "See, there's 'Archie and Jughead'.  And over there is 'Betty and Veronica'.  You remember those, right?  You used to read them to me when I was little."

"I always liked that Jughead," Wally chuckled.  He saw his daughter's smile brighten.

Holly loved her father's rich laugh.  "Over there is 'Patsy Walker'," she said, pointing to another. "Oh, and how can I cover the classics without 'Electra Woman and Dyna Girl'?"

Holly's father now noticed the stack of funny papers, COMIC BOOKS, he corrected himself, spread all over her bed.  There were pages cut out and covers removed creating a four-color paper bedspread.  "Where did you get all of these?"

"A shop I found just up the street.  Xanadu Comics or something like that.  Anyway, I saw it when I was looking at this place and it got me thinking about all the comic books I used to read.  Then, last night I was trying to decide what I wanted to do with the bedroom, and I had visions of Electra Woman and Patsy Walker getting in adventures.

"So I went down the street and bought a bunch.  I even bought a few I remembered having as a kid.  I felt like I was 9 again, looking at all of those comic books."

Wally again looked at the collage of illustrations covering the bed.   "I hear those can be worth some money.   Are you sure you want to cut those up, honey?"

"The sales guy Ken was very nice and he cut me a deal.  He told me that these comics don't have much of a market and he found the ones that were in the worst shape to get me the best price.  Besides, I think he was really impressed when I told him what I was doing and I told him I'd take some pictures when I was done.

"I don't think he gets a lot of female traffic through there," Holly added.

"Well, I think it's definitely you, Hol," Wally chucked and put his arm around his daughter.  "Hey I brought coffee, let's go downstairs and chat a bit."

"Sure, Dad," Holly said as she pulled off her ball cap and set her hair free.  "I'll be right down."

Wally headed downstairs and began rummaging the cabinets for coffee cups.  After three or four tries he found the right cabinet and pulled out a couple mugs.  After pouring the coffee and putting the pastries on a plate, he carried the load into the living room and set it amidst the clutter on the coffee table.  He tore off the top of a small discarded box and tore that into two pieces to use as coasters.

"Sorry about the mess, Dad," Holly apologized as she entered the room.

Wally was happy to note that whoever's shirt his daughter had been wearing had been replaced by a modest tank top that was unquestionably his daughter's.   "No problem sweetie.  Are you sure you don't need help unpacking?"

Holly's response was a hug for her seated father.  "No, Dad, I told you, I can't always be running to you for help.   This is my place and I can do it..."   Holly looked at the maze of boxes, furniture, clothes and home electronics that had invaded her living room like weeds in an unchecked garden. "...it might just take me a while," she added with a smile as she sat and plucked the coffee off the table.

Holly took a cautious sip.  "Mmmmmm... Tully's.  I thought you hated coffee houses."  She glanced down at the plate of pastry.  "And muffins?   Banana bread?"

"The banana bread is mine young lady," the Texan said with a grin.  "Maybe I'll let you have a bite."

Holly looked right at her father, peering over her coffee mug.  "Okay what's up? Tully's? Muffins? Why the Saturday morning pow-wow?"

Wally set his mug down and sat back on the couch.  "Well Hol, I need to tell you something..."

"Ohmigod!  You're not sick are you??  Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Now Holly, I'm not sick," the elder Wood said, his slow Texas drawl in strict contrast to his daughter's staccato, rapid-fire barrage.

"Oh Daddy, you're seeing someone!  That's wonderful!  I'm so happy for you!  Who is she?  Where did you meet her?  When do I get to meet her?"

Again, Wally chuckled, "Slow down Holly.  I'm not seeing anyone."

"Well what is it, Dad? Is it money?  How much do you need?  What can I do to help?"

Wallace Wood was constantly amazed at how his daughter could shift mental gears so quickly.  "Holly... I don't need money, I'm fine."

"Well, what is it then, Dad?"

"Well, Hol... I'm thinking of taking a job.  But I wanted to make sure you're all right with it first."

"Well, Dad, I appreciate you asking me for my opinion, but it's really your decision."

Wally shifted in his seat and looked at his daughter across the coffee table, curled up in the recliner.  "Well it concerns you too, Holly, in a way."

"What way is that, Dad?"  Holly responded, her curiosity piqued.

"Well, I'm thinking about taking a job at that new Forte Museum over at Seattle Center.  I'd be the curator.   It's a great job.  I'd get to work with kids, help with fundraisers, be a bit of a spokesman for the team, I suppose."

Holly leaned back a bit in the recliner.  "That sounds great Dad," she said, a bit puzzled.  "So, what does that have to do with me?  What?  I'm only a mile or so from the Center.  Are you going to expect lunch over here everyday?  That's fine with me…I make a mean tuna fish," she added with a smile.

"No Holly," he said as he shifted again and picked up his mug.

"And why are they offering the job to you?  Not that you're not good with people, but why did you apply in the first place?"  The questions coming as fast as she thought of them.

"I didn't apply Holly..."

"What?"

"I was offered the job."

"Why?"  Holly asked, actually pausing to take a breath.

Wally took a deep breath of his own.  "Because I'm Electro Man."

"Who?"

A deep belly roar erupted from Holly's father as he set down his coffee.   A breath.  "Well, this might come as a surprise to you, but I used to be a super-hero."

"Huh?"

"Back in the Seventies...down in Portland...with the Protectors."

Holly sat up eagerly, a smile on her face.  She never knew her father to be a liar.  "Really?  A super-hero?   What can you do?"

"Well not much anymore, hun.  I used to be able to shoot electricity from my fingers, fly a ways.  Not much more than that...and certainly not in a while."

"Why's that, Dad?"

"I have no idea, Holly.  I started losing the power gradually right around the time you were born.  Within a year, I couldn't generate more than static cling," Electro Man chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Really?" Holly asked her father, eyes wide.

"Well, actually, for a time I got my power back.  I actually took up with Forte for a time.  Not a lot of press there.  That must have been right after you started college and a bit after your mother passed."  Wally paused to look at the wedding band he still wore.  "Oh, I guess it was in 1995 or so.  But then the powers faded again and now I'm about as useful as a bug zapper on a West Texas night."

"Did you ever ask why?" Holly asked more slowly, deliberately.   "I mean, did you ever have…I don't know...tests run?"

Electro Man smiled, "No I didn't.  Not much of a point, I supposed.  There were others.  I had you to worry about...and that's a full time job," Wally chuckled.

"Speaking of jobs," Holly interrupted, ignoring the comment with a smirk, "why are you asking me about this one at the museum?"

"Because once I take the job, I imagine that my civilian persona is going to come under a bunch of scrutiny.  There's a pretty good chance that someone will figure out who I was when I wore a mask.   I think it's better to come clean in the beginning."  Wallace Wood leaned over the coffee table and took his daughter's hands, warm from the coffee mug. 

"Holly, there may be people out there that want some sort of revenge.  And certainly there will be all sorts of press attention.  I won't subject you to that without your consent.  I've already spoken to Vanguard, Doctor Jackal, Anvil and others.  They assure me that once a part of the family, you have no need to worry."  He looked into his daughter's eyes.  "If you are ever in trouble, you will have a family of people that can move heaven and earth to help.   That was my only condition in considering this job.

"You are the only living family I have, and you mean more to me than my own life.  I love you Holly."  Electro Man paused.   "And, if this idea makes you uncomfortable, then I'll politely decline the offer."

Holly squeezed her father's hands gently and stood. "You know Dad, I think you should take this job," she said quietly.  Then she turned away.

After several moments passed, the former hero stood up and put his hand on his daughter's shoulder.  "Hol?"

When she turned to face him, Holly was smiling ear to ear.  "In fact, I think it's great!"  she added, a bit louder.

"But Holly, are you sure?  There are some potential dangers..."

Holly laughed a bit.  "I'll be just fine, Dad.  In fact, this explains a lot!"

"What are you talking about Holly?" the man asked, confused.

Holly smiled and began to rise off the floor... up toward the roof of her loft... looking down at her father and the stunned look on his face.

Holly smiled. "Dad, I don't think you have to be worried about me."

 

END.

 

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