I Guess I'm a Hero

Lunch Rush

"Sorry I'm late," I said as I headed in back to put on my apron. "Flat tire."

Oh, yeah...the apron. I'm a cook. Nothing really fancy, just your basic home-style restaurant that does anything from omelets to turkey dinners; and most stuff in between. It's a fun little place to work. We follow a fairly standard menu, but once in a while we, in the kitchen, get to be a little creative and come up with a dish of our own for the daily special or for Sunday dinners. You might describe it as "a little boring with an occasional opportunity to create." It works for me. Most of the people there are great. Of course, in every place you work there will be one or two you have a personality clash with; but, for the most part, I get along with everyone. I like my job and seem to do it well.

"That was you," asked Tim? "I should have stopped, but it looked like you were almost done anyhow."

"Yeah, it was no big deal - just your basic flat tire. It didn't take long at all to fix." I sort of left out the part where I ended up lifting my car after it fell off its jack. I just wasn't sure how to tell anyone that part yet. "Peg around?"

"She's in the office doing some paperwork. But I wouldn't bug her right now. She looks like she's in a bit of a mood."

"What about Jess?"

"She's home sick today. Woke up with the 'mother of all migraines' she says."

Let me take a minute and catch you up with some of the other players here. Tim, I call him Timmy, is another one of the cooks. He started before I did, and is quite a bit younger, but we get along really well. He trained me on some of the basics for this particular restaurant. Where supplies are, how the boss likes things done - you know, stuff that is pretty much the same, but different everywhere you go. Jess, or Jessica, is his girlfriend who waits tables. They make a pretty good couple actually. Peg is the shift manager, and I have to say two things here: First, I have worked for a lot of different people over the years and Peg is one of the few that completely has my respect. She treats all employees like equals, and that makes a huge difference in morale. Especially with things being the way they are in the world. And second, I'm a bit taken with her. Nothing really official, I just like her.

Another thing I should probably mention is that when Timmy said she was in a "bit of a mood" that is a very rare thing. I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen her out of sorts, and I work with her every day.

"So, Timmy, it's just us today?"

"It sure is. Customers here don't know how good they have it."

"Damn straight," I replied as the orders started coming in.

Timmy and I took care of the lunch rush without any problems, as is usually the case. Peg came out of the office – yeah, she did look tired – and helped out if we needed her to, but it was a pretty basic day. We were in the middle of cleanup and getting the kitchen ready for the dinner crew when Timmy surprised me.

"If you could have any superpower, what would it be? And don't say 'Green Lantern's ring', because that's not a power, that's a device." Timmy knew me too well. He knows I am a bit of a comic geek and that Green Lantern is my favorite, right up there with Superman.

"I'm not sure, man. I think I would like to fly," here I hesitated, "but I also wonder what it would be like to be really strong." I wondered if my voice sounded as far away to Timmy as it did to me.

"Yeah," he replied, "Me too. But give me flight any day."

"You know, Tim, this is a question that I am usually asking to have fun, not the other way around. What brings this on?" I hoped I didn't sound too nervous.

"Well, I just...It's just that...when I passed you earlier. Well, I thought..." Oh, crap. Here it comes. "I thought I saw you lift your car. I mean, I know that isn't true. Must have been a weird angle or something, but I could have sworn..."

"Timmy," I interrupted, "How many times have I told you that you are too young to be drinking? Let your brain cells develop a bit before you start destroying them." I gave him a punch on the arm and went about my business. But I could tell he wasn't sure if he was going to buy my phony attempt at keeping things light. He didn't say anything else though, but he looked like he really wanted to.

"Peg?" I knocked on the office door. "We're about done. Is there anything else?"

"Come on in, Bill," came the tired reply from the other side.

I opened the door and crept through it. I don't know why I was trying to be so quiet. Maybe it was because she sounded so tired. When I looked into the office, Peg was sitting at the desk rubbing her eyes with her elbows propped up and her face in her hands. When her hands finally fell away she had huge dark circles under her eyes. That was the first time, ever, I have seen her looking so worn out.

"Peg, are you OK? Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like hell."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just couldn't sleep. I was having some weird dreams. You know how it is."

"I sure do. You wake up from a dream in the middle of the night, try to brush it from your mind and go back to sleep, but it just doesn't work. I've bought that t-shirt before."

"Exactly," she exclaimed wearily. "I just couldn't get back to sleep."

"You want to tell me your dream?" I put my left hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it will help."

"Well," she started, "It was mostly about you. That's what's so weird."

"Peg, we work together almost every day. There is nothing weird about it. I have had dreams about nearly everyone here, including you. Your brain is just processing the events of the day, that's all."

"It wasn't about this place at all. It was just you. Get that smirk off your face. It wasn't like that. OK, this is going to sound really strange. But it was morning and you were changing a flat tire on your car when the car fell over. But you weren't hurt. You just sort of caught your car before it fell on you and lifted it back up."

It was as if I had just swallowed a pound of flour and was trying to whistle.

"Huh. Really? That does sound strange." I gulped, but it seemed I couldn't get rid of the lump in my throat. "How did the dream end?"

"After you lifted your car, I just woke up and couldn't get back to sleep." She chuckled, "Maybe it's all the talking you do about superheroes and comics and science fiction. I always knew you were going to fry my brain someday."

"Yeah," I laughed weakly. "Well, it's your own fault for listening to me talk about it all the time." I reached for the door handle but was having a lot of trouble grabbing hold of it.

"Oh, I heard you come in late but didn't have a chance to ask why. What happened? Sleep in again?"

Again with the pound of flour.

"No." I grabbed her eyes with mine. "I... I had a flat tire."