Pumpking

Issue 30

20 minutes without incident

"Drink this," Gareth Gaston pushed a chocolate malt with a cherry- cream-smothered milkshake at me. It had a huge scoop of vanilla ice-cream, thick dollops of caramel and chocolate and malt all through it. It was a milkshake to rule a dairy kingdom.

I accepted the monstrosity and the hotdog that came with it and found that the hyper sweet taste was fantastic, as was the American style saltiness of the dog. Part of a knot of tension inside me eased and worked its way out of my mind with each sip.

He had two milkshakes, two hotdogs smothered in cheese and sauce, a banana split and a mysterious bottle of unopened cola. I guess he had a really good metabolism because there was not an ounce of fat on the man.

I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I had to slow my eating to avoid making scarfing noises as I failed to breathe between mouthfuls.

We were sitting in an old frozen custard shop, one of the few of its kind still in existence. Most of the city had moved to gelato and 'Mars Ice' for their dairy sweets. This was a relic of a time when gelato had been exclusive to other countries and ice-cream too boring. I was surprised that Gareth knew where it was, let alone knew that we wouldn't attract any attention, let alone that it was open at three AM.

"It's good, right? Wanda grates the cheese from a block," He mumbled, all but inhaling one of the hotdogs, barely pausing to remove the wrapper it was held in, "I love frozen custard."

"It's good," I agreed, not having much to say around the need to eat.

"Frozen custard is one of your five best inventions as a species," He added, drinking his first shake so fast I had to pause, wondering if the world's most powerful superhero would need to go to hospital for extreme brain-freeze. He didn't even bat an eyelid, "I miss it most about the earth when I'm away. That and hamburgers. Nothing else in the cosmos tastes like cow between two pieces of bread."

"You just like us for our food?" I caught myself on a laugh.

"Well, to be fair, earth has such a dark and deep history, I find that interesting too. But...you have such unique and delicate flavours in your cuisine," He took a few chunks out of his next hotdog, barely chewing before reaching for a long drain of his next drink. Whoa; how did he not get indigestion?

"You sure you should be eating that fast?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry. I'm starving. I'll slow down if it's putting you off your food?"

"No, no. I'm fine, but shouldn't you chew more?"

He shrugged, "I have a pretty ironclad stomach."

Now did he mean that literally, or...?

"You are so quiet, it's hard to know what you're thinking sometimes," He mused, licking mustard off the inside of his fingers.

"Really? I don't think I'm all that quiet," I looked down, wondering if I had any sauce of my outfit. I felt silly wearing it, like a kid playing dress-up trying to be like a real Pantheon member, "Oh... about the costume I---"

"No need to explain. Phantom told me you were going to be his sidekick."

"What? No way—I mean, no—there is no way I'd be that—why do you always call him Phantom? Why don't you use his name, Whisper?" From the sudden evasive look he gave me, I realized the reason. "Because that's not his real name, right. That man drives me insane!"

"Sorry, it's his name to give; I can't ruin his secret identity if he doesn't want it lost."

"I suppose your identity in Capita city isn't real either?"

He shrugged, "I only have one secret identity, Dion. I can tell you're not the sort to betray the trust that goes with knowing that..."

"I don't think I would know how," I admitted.

He chuckled, "And that's why, right there- you're an honest soul."

"Yeah, I've heard that a lot lately. But I don't feel like anyone else is being honest with me. Can I ask you about the things no one wants to tell me?"

"You just did," He swallowed another piece of hotdog, glancing around the empty custard bar, like he was wondering who might possibly overhear. Heroes were a paranoid lot.

I sighed, "I know there's something important I'm missing, that Whisper keeps hinting at, that you think I should know- but whatever it is, I'm not guessing it. I don't even know what the right question is?"

He glanced down at his hands on the table and nodded for me to continue. I realised I hadn't asked a question yet. Fair enough.

"Why does Whisper want me to be his sidekick?"

"I don't know. He likes you. Most women, he just... uh... well he doesn't pay much attention to. Women chase him; they throw themselves before him. You sort of get used to women doing whatever it is you want- after a while, you realize that it's a hollow sort of relationship."

Voice of experience, "So he likes me because he can't have me?"

"Can't he?" Daystar's gaze grew sharp then, like I was playing with dangerous words.

Well, he'd almost had me tonight, I realized. The man had thrown a little tenderness at me, a little kindness and I had crumbled. Was I really so easy to woo? A nice word, a gentle touch when I was down and I'd crumble like sand? No. that wasn't me at all. Not again; I wouldn't let things slide out of control like that again, "Whisper is attractive, any girl would think that; but I can't trust him. How could I ever fall for a guy I don't trust?"

"Some women like that about him," there was just the tiniest hint of bitterness there, "That he lives on the edge."

"I think some women are idiots too," I agreed.

That made Gaston chuckle a little and take another bite out of his hotdog; he was slowing down now; I wasn't sure if it was because of what I'd said or just he was starting to fill up. Maybe he was used to American sized food?