Heroes

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

I didn't know what to do with the information I had gained the day before, the information that The R was secretly Max, or Max was secretly The R. I hadn't told anyone, not Mum or Dad or even Henry. Not that I knew why I would tell Henry in the first place.

Somehow, when I arrived home last night, Mum had already heard the news about the exploding bin. It had been all over the local news on the TV. Mum had been watching in hopes of "getting to understand the mentality of the neighbours." Besides, it was good background noise to her writing, she had said. She had tackled me into the tightest hug when I had walked through the door practically lifting me off the ground. She started flattening my hair with a hand, pressing kisses onto my forehead. It took me ten minutes to peel her off, and even then she was frantic.

I wasn't going to bother telling her how close I had been knowing her hovering would drive me nuts for weeks, but the news was still playing in the living room and she turned to it just in time to watch frame by frame footage of the bin exploding and Max jumping to my rescue. When she was finally done crying out about having 'almost lost me' she went on about the heroic actions of Max.

"Oh that wonderful boy!" She said. "He put himself in danger to save you. Silly, very silly, but very brave. What an excellent young man. See that," she turned as Henry tried to run past the living room but stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, "look at this Henry. You don't need to have super powers to be a hero."

Henry tugged from her grasp. He didn't seem to think any hero was very cool unless he had some kind of awesome super power. Little did he know that Max had exactly that.

"Oh you have to thank him George," Mum said. "You did thank him, didn't you?"

"Well..." My voice trailed as I realised I hadn't. "I didn't really have a chance."

"Oh George!" She scolded with a scowl. "He saved your life. Call him. Ring him and say thank you. You should ask Avery for his number. Maybe I should call too. I should call his mother. He should come to dinner. I'll cook a shepherds pie."

I rolled my eyes and a scoff escaped me before I could choke it down. Mum stopped to glare.

"He's not coming to dinner," I said. "And you're not calling his mother. I'll say thank you Mum, I promise."

I lept over the back of the couch and flopped myself down onto it. Mum gave me a warning frown and rounded the couch to place herself down beside me.

"I don't like all this graffiti business," she said, "and this bomb. The last thing I want is you being surrounded by raving lunatic 'villians'."

"They're not all villains. There are heroes too."

"I don't think children should be running around trying to fix the messes these villains make."

"Not children mother. Teenagers. Besides, half the messes are caused by teenagers."

"Exactly," she went on. "Teenagers have got enough going on without all that. I don't know how any of them find the time to be heroes or villains. I don't want you getting involved with it."

"What?" I looked at her my eyebrows slanted.

"You're a kid George," she said. "I want you to enjoy being a kid."

"I'm not a child."

"That's not what I meant," she frowned. "Just remember why it is you're seeing Dr Robinson will you? It's to help you control your little bursts, to stop you fainting and being ill."