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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1729541
Reggie Watts, one of lifes great losers starts to get memories not of his own. Part 1
Part 1.



The Awakening of Laurence Barnes,



         Where the hell am I?  as far as he was concerned it was the first thought he had ever had.

         Raising his hand to shield the glare hitting his eyes he tried to make out the figures below, sirens were blaring someone was screaming through a megaphone not to move a crowd had gathered and he had absolutely no idea of how he came to be standing on a rooftop dressed in as far as he could tell was a spandex costume. It wasn’t even a good spandex costume – large patchwork sections made up most of it.

         Looking tentatively over the edge of the building the ground was a dizzying distance below he was at least twelve floors up, his stomach lurched, this was not good.

         “Okay son.” The timid voice came from behind him, he turned stumbling slightly, the skinny man flinched and the police officers with him took a step forward.

         He kept his footing and the skinny man with the friendly, calming voice relaxed, “You don’t want to do anything silly now do you?”

         “I…” He said not sure what he was doing.

         “We understand, but this is not going to get you anywhere with whatever cause it is your trying to fight, come down we’ll sort out any child visitation rights or whatever the problem is.”

         This one isn’t like the others, the skinny man thought, he might do it, he looks agitated enough. Still was this not what he was here for?

         “We can talk about it.” The skinny man said again offering his hand.

         The man in the spandex patch costume looked out again over the edge.

         God he’s going to do it.

          Slowly he touched his face, it was covered like his body in some kind of mask he turned to the skinny man, “I'm not going to jump.” He said seeing the skinny man visibly relax, “I think...I think I can fly.” He said taking a step forward. The gasp came from below as he dangled a foot of the ledge. The skinny man tensed and the police officer with him lunged forwards to grab the brightly clad man, “No you can't.” The police officer was whispering in his ear, “You bloody well can't.”

         The crowd began to disperse convincing themselves they were glad he didn't jump.

***





         Some other when, some other place. The day of their final fight had been intense, Neopolis had largely been ravaged over the last twenty-four hours, the once gleaming skyscrapers had been reduced to rubble, thousands lay trapped or dead beneath the steel and glass hulks. The stench of smoke and fear assulted Hyper-mans nostrils.

         “This ends here Sludge!” He desended low behind his arch-nemesis, touching down softly his cape caught in the wind.

         Sludge turned, his unatural grin spread across his blood strewn face, “You've finally grown a pair it seems .” Hyper-man thought Sludge may have winked but with the visor he wore across his eyes it was impossible to tell, his enemies costume was a bright orange mockery of his own, “I tell you Hypes your getting slow I found and killed another twenty-three of your precious citizens while you saved some others instead of ending this.”

         “Why are you doing this!” He screamed.

         Sludge gestured widely, “Because this is it Hyper-man this is our grand finally, because you see I've found something out, something most troubling.”

         “I've had enough of this.” He said taking a step forward.

         Sludge's impossibly large grin grew even larger exposing long, sharp, black teeth, “No really your going to want to hear this one, we don't exist, none of this matters, none of these people are real and you want to know the worst part – we're not even published characters, we are just rattling around inside the head of some guy.But thats not all I found out H-man it's worse than that a lot worse the virus cometh.”

         Hyper-man's gaze narrowed behind his own visor, Sludge was always crazy  this however was worse than ever before.



         “Are you even listening?” The room he found himself in was dark, a single florescent strip light lit the box of a room. The table he was sat at was Formica and cheap the room stank of stale smoke.

         He looked across at the man who had spoken and then down at the tape recorder that rested between him, this was an interview room.

         “I'm sorry officer.” He said with a laugh and the voice he heard coming out from his lips was not his own, it was high and nasal, “You have the advantage of me...where am I?”

         The interviewing officer rolled his eyes and it was then that he noticed the uniformed officer standing just off to one side, the flashes of memories kept assulting him but they merged with things he knew were true and at the same time these other memories seemed brighter, colourful vibrant he had been somebody – somebody powerful.

         “You are being held in custody at Charing Cross police station?”

         “London?” he asked surprised.

         The interviewing officer ignored him, “Let's get started,” He clicked the tape recorder on, “Interview comencing at 12.07 monday 30th October 2009”

         2009 he thought but its 1995?

         “Please state for the record your name.”

         “Laurence Barnes .”

         The other officer off to the side stepped over and said, “All his ID says he's  Reginald Watts, passport, drivers license.

         The interviewer cocked and eye brow, “What is it Watts or Barnes ?”

         Reginald sunk lower into his chair, what the hell was going on? Where had that name came from it had seemed so natural so real, “Watts.” He said slowly.

         “Good.” The man nodded, “Very good, well Mr Watts I am chief inspector  Roberts and my colleague is Officer Andrews.”

         Reginald thought it was odd both officers had surnames that were also first names but remained silent.

         “Was there any reason you deemed it necessary to clamber to the top of a prominent whitehall building dressed as a superhero?”

         “Superhero?” He noted that he was now dressed in a loose t-shirt and some  tracksuit bottoms that the police must have provided but his memory was hazy.

         “We don't exist none of this matters.”

         “Mr Watts?”

         “Yes?”

         “Answer the question.”

         “I'm not sure.” He admitted, “It was as if I was somewhere...else...and then I came to on top of the building. I'm terribly sorry I have caused such a problem.”

         The chief inspector seemed to relax slightly, chief inpector seemed quite a  high ranking officer to be interviewing him, Roberts smiled, “You did but at least you did not jump,”

          Andrews flipped through his notepad, “He claimed he could probably fly.

         Watts felt his checks begin to burn, had he said that? He thought that he probably had, why did he think he could fly? What were these memories?

         Roberts levelled a gaze at him, “Can you fly Mr Watts.”

         “Barnes .” He said without thinking, he voice dropping deeper and more American sounding.

         “But you said your name was Watts.”

         “It is.” Said Reginald his voice back to its usual nasal British.

         “This is getting nowhere. If you do not want to cooperate Mr Watts we can find you a nice warm cell in which to calm down in.”

         “No...No I do want to cooperate, maybe if I had something to calm me tea or something.”

         “Mr Andrews please for the love of all thats good get the man a cup of tea.”

         “Sir.” The police officer said as he left.”

         Roberts said, “Interveiw terminated at 12.14” and clicked the tape off.

         Reginald looked everywhere but at the chief inspector, this was all highly embarrassing what was wrong with him?

         Officer Andrews made a reappearance and placed the thick white mug with thick brown liquid that might have been tea, he took a sip.

         “Ready?”

         He nodded, clicked the tape recorder “Interview resumed 12.18.”

         “I want to go back as to the reason you were on the building.”

         Reginald's mind whirled, it had cleared at bit he had to think fast had to play it safe, make something up. “I've had a bit of stress at home with my wife, I guess it was getting to me.”

         Roberts nodded, “That's all?”

         Reginald pursed his thick lips, they were not the lips he remembered having, “children...ah...work you know how it is?”

         They went on for several minutes questioning him, he made up answers that suited their needs and by the end of it he was truly beginning to believe that Laurence Barnes  was just a figment of his imagination, after all he was not even sure who Laurence Barnes  was.

         By three they had let him out on bail, he needed to return in a week. He left the station and took a deep breath, everything was unfamiliar the officer had said the year was 2009, but that impossible he knew it was '95 just last week he had saved several people from an avalanche in iceland.

         He stumbled down towards the sounds of the main road, aware that his body was heavier in fat than he remembered he belly was hanging out of the bottom of his t-shirt which he now saw upside down said, “game over,” bright red with Pac-man chomping his way across it, strange t-shirt.

         He caught his reflection in the window of a stationary shop on the corner and froze, he was balding and middle aged, he was not just portly he was fat, the face at that stared back at his was weak, the eyes small black dots full of apology his nose large and red he looked more like police comissoner Dolins of the NPPD.

         A thought hit him as he rounded the side of the shop, which his other self insisted was called a store but Reginald knew quite well was a shop.

         As he entered the young sales assisstant noticed him from behind the counter and said, “You need any help?”

         He nodded, providing what he hoped would be a charming smile, she sneered but he continued, “Yes do you have any atlases.”

         “No.” She said, “But we do have these laminated maps if they're any good.”

         He flicked through them tutting, “Is there anywhere your looking for in particular?” she asked after a moment, she noticed how he was beginning to grow eccentric and his clothing did not add to his appearance he was either homeless or mad, probably both.

         “I'm looking for Neopolis?” He said.

         She thrust out her bottom lip, “Sorry never heard of that one, where is it greece? Sounds Greek.”

         “Uh, no it's on the east coast of America.”

         “Really, must be a small town.” She slid her eyes over to the security guard and motioned at Reginald still looking at the maps, growing more furious in his search and at her questions.

         “No.” He said through gritted teeth, “population 12 million.”

         He threw a map to the side with a grunt, “Sir.” The security guard placed a hand on his shoulder, “I think it's time you left.”

         Reginald's heart sank, “Yes, of course I'm sorry.” Never heard of Neopolis? Although if he was really truthful to himself he had never heard of Neopolis either it wasn't any American city he knew, and he'd said he was from there not with that accent he told himself, he was as English as tea and crumpets.

         Back out on the main road, which he saw a sign proclaming it 'The Strand' he watched for a moment as makes of car he had never of heard of pass and big red busses full of tourists all knowing and sure about what they were doing, while he was alone in a city he was from but could not remember.

         He felt around in his pocket pulling out his wallet that had been returned to him by the police after he had left the station.

         Inside he found a five pound note, a picture of an elderly lady which he instinctively knew was his mother but another part said was not and a drivers license  with a home address on, at least he had a destination a goal to achieve now it was just a matter of getting there.

         He looked to his right and almost giggled with relief at the London Undergound sign beckoned.



         “What do you mean we don't exist?” Hyper-man for the moment forgot about the rubble strewn city, the fires, the cries for help, Sludge that twisted image of him who claimed his self to be a descended of Hyper-man from the future shrugged, “What I said Hypie, none of this matters these people all around us only exist because we are here and they are in our story, they don't matter, when you save them do you think they go on with their lives – NO – they don't they cease to exist because once they are out of the story they don't matter any more.”



        “Did you want to ask me a question sir.” The man Reginald found him self facing was wearing a blue shirt with a darker blue tie, his name badge, which also had the London Underground logo on, said 'John'.

         “Yes I did.” He fumbled out the wallet and produced his license, “I need to get here.”

         John looked at the license, “Well I don't know the street to be honest but it says Greenwich and I can help you with that much, what you need to do is take the bakerloo line to  waterloo and get the jubilee line to North Greenwich, if you ask the staff there they might know where the street is.”

         Reginald nodded not really taking in any of the information, the man had said loo a lot and North Greenwich. After spending four out of his five pounds on a single ticket he made his way through the barrier and onto the platform.

         



         “You've gone too far this time sludge, too far!”



         When Watts stepped off the train at North Greenwich he was astounding by the futuristic looking building, it was like being in another world usually underground stations were small claustrophobic and very badly decorated this place was like something out of a science fiction movie, although it was also very familiar he was sure he had been here before, in his head it was only 1995 to Laurence Barnes  but Reggie Watts lived here, it was 2009 of course he had been here before. He made his way up to the ticket hall and out of the station he didn't need to ask for directions he was beginning to remember this place and knew he did not have enough for a bus fare now that he had spent his most of his money on a tube ticket, but something nagged at him, he flipped open his wallet and smiled a blue plastic card which said Oyster was his salvation, he touched it on the yellow reader as he stepped on the 188 bus with a cheery beep it flashed green and he went to find a seat, things were beginning to go well he felt a lot more Reggie Watts and was beginning to think Laurence had just been a part of a mini-breakdown, he was feeling much better as he watched the former millenium dome fading into the distantance.

         I am Reginald Peter Watts.

         I am Reggie Peter Watts.

         I am Reg Watts.

         I'm Reg.

         I'm Hyper-Man.

         He shook his head, his jowls wobbling with the sudden motion as he stepped of the bus and into the sunlight, he didn't know what a 'hyper-man' was. Well he knew what a hyper person was – after all he'd seen many of his work colleagues a bit hyper on coffee and those certainly were hyper men and women – as for his Hyper-man he had no idea. At some point it seemed that he had believed himself to be an american superhero, somehow managing to bypass the security of a Whitehall building and gain acess to the roof all in a spandex patchwork costume. He shuddered at the thought, he had made a fool of himself today and would no doubt make the news, his mother would see it...

         Gods, his mother would see it. Reggie owned a small house which after remembering the way found himself in front of. His elderly mother was his only compainion, he had never been married – he couldnt even remember the last girlfriend he had had, let alone date. The one woman he had fallen in love with his mother had disproved of and he soon found himself alone her last words to him were; “I am not playing second fiddle to your mother Reggie!” which he could blame her, his mother was controlling and overbearing, he knew she loved him but he was now forty-six and he really did not need his mother looking after him.

         Even so his hand shook slightly as he reached the door, the walk down his front path had seemed to take an eternaity and as he reached for his keys they jingled with the motion of his hand, he had to use both to get them steady enough to get them into the lock.

         What was she going to say?

         He groaned as he entered, “Reggie, that you?” He shrill voice issuing from the depths of the kitchen which were reached by going through the front room. Reggies mother never used the front room to live in, after all it was for best and only to be used for guests so she lived in the kitchen. The living room might have the bigger television but she was content with her black and white portable in the kitchen along with all her other nicknacks, her most cherished being an awful picture of his long departed father.

         “Yes mother.” He sighed. He panicked looking down at his self if she saw him like this she was likely to go ape, “I'm going for a shower.” He said quickly bolting up the stairs, his belly jiggling as he went. He missed the firmness of stomach Hyper-man had.

         Reginald Watts mother Mrs. Irene Watts was very particular in her sense of decoration and style, which would have been fashionable between the years 1958 and 1979 and maybe a part way into the 80's. It mainly consisted of smoke stained yellow ceilings brown shagpile rugs and the most garish, beige, wallpaper. The hight of sophistication was the bathroom itself which very modernly consisted of a daydoe rail around the middle of the rooms. Reg had never been overly inclined to decorate any how, his father had helped him decorate it in the summer of '79 and it had stayed that way ever since even outlasting his father by many years – he had never lived to see the 90s.

         The shower was hot, he felt clean the memories of his bizarre awakening seemed a distant bad dream. Trudging into his room he sat at his desk and booted up the pc.

         He was momentarily amazed when the Vista logo appeared he'd been expecting one that said Windows 95 and quickly reminded himself that it was in fact 2009.

         Google is your friend, he smiled as he double clicked the internet explorer. He had a running joke – he would have said with his friends which would be implying he actually had some – so instead said contacts that whatever you needed to know Google was your friend. He had a lot he wanted to know, well to double check. He typed in Neopolis expecting to see something of a large city in America of which there wasn't, there were hits sure but none that related although the girl in the stationary shop was right it was indeed greek.

         Hyper-man and indeed Laurence Barnes  however turned up nothing of significant other than facebook pages or myspace. He breathed a small sigh of relief  none of it was real.

         Of course none of it was real, but for a brief period in his mind it had been he was convinced of it so much so he had corrected a police officer with the wrong name.

         Still he felt better, he was only insane instead, work had been hard these few days maybe he just needed some rest a few days off of work to relax, although it meant spending time with his mother and that was one of the reasons he went to work  for ten hours a day.

         “Reggie.” he cringed as she called him from the foot of the stairs.

         “Yes?”

         “Come and get your tea before it gets cold.”

         He sigh, closed his internet windows and went to have dinner with his mother , it was 5.53 pm the same time his mother would call him for dinner every night.





         Something had Laurence Barnes  Hyper-sense reeling this morning, there was an electricity to Neopolis this morning, almost as if the city were holding its breath  waiting for something to punch her in the gut.

         Taxi's sloped by almost silently, not wanting to draw attention to himself the people walked with a slight more stoop to their step, unwilling to make eye contact with each other. Subconsciously they new something was going to happen, even despite a glorious summer morning a dark cloud seemed to be hanging over this city of steel and glass.

         Laurence pursed his lips as something caught his eye further down the street.  Discreetly he checked his Hyper-vision, he was right this was a job for Hyper-Man!





         “Yo dude why you looking at me like that for?” The man opposite him leaned forward, he was a black man in low slung jeans and a baggy t-shrit top, his eyebrows were set  in a deep frown and Reginald began to sweat.

         He realised that his eyes were straining they were probably wide and round and opened as wide as he could get them, the young man opposite him was right to be worried about this man who was almost wide-eyed and gawping at him.

         In truth he had been employing his Hyper-Vision, however he couldn't see  a way of explaining that to this young man, “Oh.” He said meekly, by now the rest of the tube train carriage were looking in their direction, it was morning rush hour  and this bit of drama had caught their interest, he looked between them for help – of which none was being offered – and the guy opposite him, “I'm terribly sorry I must have been day-dreaming was I staring?”

         The guys eyes narrowed as he sucked his teeth, “You better be careful who your lookin' at like that it'll get you into trouble.”

         “I will, thank-you, sorry about that.” with his cheeks burning Reggie got off at the next station, he wasn't sure where he was – didn't remember getting up that morning and didn't remember getting on the train.

         Finding a bench on the platform he sunk his head into his hands. What is wrong with me? He was obviously having some kind of delusional episode a make believe world where he was some kind of hero so unlike the weakling he was in real life, but why?

         That was the question wasn't it. Work had been hard recently but not that hard he hadn't felt any undue stress no abnormal amount of pressure however at this point in time he wasn't even sure what he did for a living, but dressed in his suit he knew he had dressed for it.

         Another thing that was getting to him was why a super-hero. After all he was not known for his flights of fantasy, he had no imagination of which to speak; once he had tried his hand at writing a novel and by page 23 had given up after hitting a writers block that had never budged and lastly he did not even like super-heros. The very idea of a brightly coloured, muscel bound pretty boy jumping all over the place saving the day was absolutely absurd he had never picked up a comic book in his life and avoided with a passion the recent spate of super hero themed films.

         And yet Hyper-man felt as real to Reggie Watts as Batman must have felt to Bob Kane or any comic book fan. Lifting his head he saw the platform was fairly quiet but a member of the underground staff was approaching and he did not feel like answering any questions, looking up quickly he saw he was at Waterloo and could walk to his office from here.

         He stood, smoothed out his crumpled suit over his gut and made his way to the exit forgetting just how big Waterloo station was.

         Outside he marvelled at how busy and noisy London seemed that morning compared to what Neopolis had been. Still he knew what Neopolis was facing later that day.

         A thought hit him, maybe Hyper-man died that day, maybe he was a reincarnation of that man. It had happened he reasoned with hiself, there were people all over the world who claimed to remember past lives, but there were always reasonable and although he had always scoffed at the idea at least none of them were super powered, no they were normal people: kings, queens, headsmen and other normal things. Still it was worth looking into, after all he didn't know when another vision was going to come and he found his self awake ontop of another building claiming he could fly.





         Irene took the steaming kettle off of the stove and poured the boiling water into her tea cup. She didn't believe in electric kettles they spoiled the water she would claim to the ladies down at the social club. She took pride in her knowledge of food and the culinary world, to some her ideas might seem old-fashioned she was forever criticising celebrity chefs on the television; who these days seemed to make more of a name mindlessly swearing than actually doing any worthwhile homely cooking.  Stuff like her Reggie liked, he was a fan of his good old mums food, always had been a hearty eater that boy, just like his father she smiled fondly of the black and white photo of George sitting atop the counter in his younger days.

         Although she was worried about her son, he hadn't spoken to her last night much during dinner and not at all this morning as he left for his work and she couldn't have the girls see that there was something wrong with her boy, after all what would they think.

         In the background the television was on but it's noise had faded into the background as she began to read this mornings papers.

         She flipped the page over taking a sip of tea and frowned, turning it back as something caught her eye, a  headline over a picture of a fat man wearning a very skin tight suit the headline read: FATHER FOR JUSTICE CAMPAIGNER REGINALD WATTS ARRESTED AFTER 2 HOUR ROOF ORDEAL. Her  hands were shaking as she finished the article, they would see – all of them at the club were going to read this the picture was obviously her son.

         “That stupid boy.” she muttered, knowing how he always put the causes of others before his own he was almost beside himself as he saw those poor africans  without any water, such a stupid sensitive boy.

         She picked up the phone.



             

         “So Reg see the game last night.” The man said pulling up a chair tunring it round and sitting with his legs either side of the backrest, his floppy blond parting bobbed annoyingly as he winked and Reggie showing a set of perfect wet tombstones he called teeth.

         “No I didn't Russ.” He said bitterly, he hated Russell the office show off, who took no end of delight in winding him up. Laurence wouldn't have taken none of his crap but wasn't he Laurence or at least some kind of version of the man, surely he could find some sort of witty response.

         Nothing came, he sighed.

         “So Reg.” Said Russ showing the tombstones once again, something was coming he could feel it. In fact the whole office was peering over their partitioned workspaces waiting for 'Russ' “To work the magic” as he would say pumping both fists back and forward each time.

         “It's Reginald. Russell, R-E-G-I-N-A-L-D.”

         Russ nodded sympethically, “Yes that's how I read it.” Slapping page 8 of The Sun onto his desk.

         He looked down with dawning horror seeing his self in full spandex, he snatched the paper up, “Yea its okay Reggie you can keep that one, we've got our own.”

         He whirled away high fiving one of the other office drones as he past, giggling came from behind several of the partitioned spaces and as he looked around his saw pictures of him in his suit were blown up and stuck all over the place.

         “Reggie, call for you line 1.” Said the office receptionist a fantastic swede with a great rack, “It's your mother...she sounds pissed.” although at that moment as the office exploded into laughter he wished the bitch was dead – a very unLaurence Barnes  thought.

         He snatched up his phone stabbing his pudgy finger at line one, “Yes mother what is it!”

         “I was wondering why my son is on page 8 of todays news paper dressed as batman.”

         “I wasn't dressed as Batman mother I was...”

         “Don't get lippy with me,

         “Sorry mum, I've had a lot on my mind.”

         “Evidently.” she said sounding hurt and bitter at the same time, “Too busy to tell your mother what's been on your mind.”

         “No it's not that...” He became aware of more eyes watching him alight with glee and interest, “I can't talk now I'm at work, see you when I get home bye.” He put the phone down quickly.

         After the rest of the office sheep had reaslied he was not going to be a source of their entertainment for the rest of the morning he put his work a side and began researching reincarnation, the idea really was absurd but he had rule it out: Google is your Friend, he smiled.

         His first results came in as wikipedia, he didn't really learn anything he didn't know. He typed in reincarnation superhero which intrestingly enough had several articles about batman; apparently Bruce Wayne was dead: who knew? But it didn't matter Bruce was only going to be reincarnated into his own world his own comic, it wasn't someone claiming to be Bruce Wayne.

         Last he tried Reincarnation different dimensions and there was a lot of stuff mainly forum discussions but he read it all as much as he could before lunch it was interesting and at the same time offered nothing in the way of an explination, it was just opinion and speculation, after all what else had he expected, today google had not been his friend after all.

         Up ahead Barnes  had spotted the gang of muggers only seconds before they attacked the frail old woman, it made him angry that they would spoil this glorious day for the woman with any luck he would help fix that, sometimes he would save the whole world from alien threats or mad scientists however he was not above sorting out petty crooks either.

         Quickly he slipped into the comforting feeling of his blue and green costume and launched himself over the heads of the unaware Neopolitians below, who continued on in their business in solemn silence.

         “I think you guys might want to give that lady her purse back.” He said hoovering ten feet above them, his green cape catching the wind perfectly as he folded his arms across his chest.

         “Oh damn its H-man.” one panicked, pulling an uzi from inside his jackets, serious hardware for petty theives like this, it was then he knew something was not right.

         “Give up now, your guns can't hurt me.”

         “That's right.” Their leader nodded with a grin, “Your skin is impervious to  bullets hers isn't though.” His face hardered as he sprayed the old lady with a hail of bullets, the roar of the gun was like a deafening thunder as his shocked mind struggled to comprehend what they'd done, no one, not ever had pulled something like this.

         “NO!” he said moving at Hyper-speed trying to catch the bullets, it was impossible, the woman was propelled backwards as the buring lead bit into her soft skin, this was his fault he could have stopped them before hand.

         As he landed beside the woman they began to run away laughing, “Sludge sends his regards Hypie!” the leader called back.

         Using his hyper-vision he scanned the woman for internal wounds, it was bad,  he knelt beside her, “Ma'am your going to be okay, I'm going to fly you to the hospital you'll be fine.”     

         He tried to flash a trade mark smile but it faultered at the fear and pain in her eyes, she could not see his behind the visor of his costume but they were welling up he felt responsible and nothing like this had happened in all his years as a hero. The villans had always been cowardly to try anything like this neither had they been so callous and cold blooded to strike at a defenseless woman to get away from him, he would get them and bring them to justice.



         “Your so right Reg you know I'll give you credit since when did you get to be so funny.”

         Reggie stopped mid bite of the sandwich his mother prepared him, Russells tombstones were once again on show as he laughed at something Reggie had just said, what that might have been he had no idea, in fact it was almost 2 hours after he had last checked the clock.

         Sitting in the buildings cafeteria he had no idea why he was sitting with Russell the two had never taken lunch together – ever. More than that he had obviously just said something quite witty and intelligent.

         He nodded trying to cover up that had no idea what had happened over the last two hours, he remembered cradling that poor old lady as she lay dying, that was a dirty trick but it was to be the first of many – he thought but couldn't remember, this was getting serious and it was getting out of hand he needed some serious help.

         He stood, “Sorry just remembered something got to run.”

         “Sure buddy.” Russ said

         Buddy, what the hell have I been doing for two hours for us to suddenly be 'buddies'...hell.

         “We still on for that drink Friday.”

         Now they were socialising outside of work – no this would not do not at all, “Sorry just remembered I'm...washing...my hair.”

         Russell laughed, “What? You don' have any?”

         “I meant my mothers.” He said quickly leaving but not before hearing Russell mutter that he was a freak and to give Russ some credit it was the one true thing he'd ever said.

         By time he had arrived back at the Tube station he'd had time to contemplate. And he realised that Laurence Barnes  was exactly the kind of man who Russell would get on with, which was scary because a thought creeped on one which terrified him, if he became Hyper-man when he had his episodes did that mean that Laurence's personality take over his, after all his body had been doing something while he was elsewhere, and Russell had been getting on with him.

         If so, it wasn't reincarnation it was split personality, he was psychotic or schizophrenic or something with a long name he knew what good ol' Russ would call it something suitably un-politically correct, probably a mentalist or a mental or something as equally offensive, either way the man would have a point.





         Irene held her head high as she entered the social club. Since smoking had been banned in all public building the once smoke smelling common room now smelt like a mixture of old alcohol and sweat (although if you got close enough to the curtains they retained an amount of old smoke smell), a large bar ran down one side of the room across from which was a stage which was currently empty, at at this time a day would remain thankfully so. In front of the stage was a dance floor which would remain equally empty and an array of chairs and tables, there was something comforting to Irene about the way the place was decorated which was in the décor of the late eightees when she and George in the last few years of his life would begin coming here.

         The girls, an assortement of equally aged ladies, were waving her over as she entered clearly engrossed in gossip, probably about the fool-of-a-son she had produced and his antics in Whitehall, it was almost testament to the state the police were these days, back when she was Reggie's age he would have been locked up for longer than the morning, what was this country coming; not that she wanted her son locked up, she told her self.

         Doris, the preverbial Jones that Irene just had keep up with, looked over at her with an sparkle in her eyes, “seen the paper Irene?”

         She gritted her false teeth, they had seen it and they were going to let her know it, “I perused it somewhat over my camomile, yes.”

         The girls fidgeted with exictemtn as Doris said, “Well it seems we have a celebraties mother at the table.”

         Irenes lips pursed and then smiled, of course – after all John, Doris's son or Brendan, Junes son had never been in the paper.

         The others began chatting widely, June said, “It's such a good cause and at risk of arrest just so other men got to see their children.”

         Irene was nodded smiling, it was the first time in many years she had felt proud of her son, “Yes although why he had to dress as Batman I'll never guess.” She said.

         “It is what that group of men do in protest.” Explained Dotty, “Although I don't think that was Batman, my son used to be mad of that one he was never in red.”

         “Well whatever he was in I think it shows admirable passion for other humans.” Said Doris, “Drink Irene?”

         “Yes and make it a double, this is a celebration after all.”   



 

         

         As Reggie stumbled off the tube at North Greenwich he had managed to keep control of his body, the constant fear that Laurence was going to take over had made him a nervsous wreck, after all Hyper-man had battled Aliens and Evil Scientists! Surely that in itself would make the hero a stronger personality Reg was weak willed and he knew it if Laurence wanted his body he would probably get it, and what then what would happen to him, would he be forced to live in a make believe world forever, would he cease to exist? The possibilities were terrifying, he kept remnidning himself that it was not real, that this was all part of an over active imagination brought on by the stress of city life. It was a nice lie he would reason, one he knew he didn't truly believe.

         It was only as he was leaving the station that he realised he had left without telling any body and without signing out, Los Conquistador  or Barry as he was known to his friends and Mr Wittard to his employees was going to be royally pissed, Reg thought that was the term Barry used. Los Conquistador was named so not only because he was six-two built like a bull but because he would virtually lay the smackdown on everyone who got in his way especially when he was royally pissed and because smack down was a wrestling term and the Los Conquistadors were a tag team back in the day... The point was Barry would be angry that was all that mattered.

         It was good that he had something else to worry about, this whole super hero thing had begun to take over his life, promising his self to see a doctor he stepped on the bus and swiped his Oyster it worked at least something had gone right today.

         Blissfully his mother was out and it allowed him just enough time to get his thoughts together. Laurence, Hyper-man, had been quiet his expolites of the obviously fictional Neopoilis had all but faded from his mind, this was good. It however did not explian how he came to be standing on top of that building or where that terrible costume had come from, his cheeks were burning just thinking off all of those people looking at  him, he was a respectable man who wanted nothing more than a quiet life, that involved his mother staying out with the 'girls' as long as the gin well remained full.

         The phone ringed loudly startling him out of the chair, for a moment he stared at it for a second, oh god it was Barry and he was about to lay the smackdown on Reggie, why had he forgot to tell anyone he was leaving. He let it ring another three times before finally picking it up, “Hi. Barry look I'm...”

         “Is that Mr Watts?” The voice was female, it was not Barry. Phew. It felt as if his whole body was melting with relief.

         “Speaking.”

         She brightened, “Mr Watts I'm Veronica Mayhew I'm with the BBC.”

         “How did you get my number?” He said mildly interested.

         “A Mrs. Irene Watts contacted us earlier.”

         He rubbed his forehead in frustration.

         “We were wondering if you wanted to do an interveiw?”

         “Not particularly if I'm honest.”

         “Oh.” She said, Veronica of the BBC sounding surprised, he knew her type tight suits and big boob jobs, they'd put her on the case because she'd sweeten him up with her doey blue eyes and her thick black hair (probably wore stockings instead of tights too) well no, no womanly charms would work him him. “We were quite interested, we spoke to the head fathers for justice, the guy who left the group he said it was good you were standing up for people, he said you don't have any children of your own.

         “How does he bloody know?” Reggie muttered, seemingly everyone knew everything about him.

         “I'm not sure Mr Watts, so what time should we come around?”

         “What, no.”

         “Okay we'll get you in, what time should I arrange a car?”

         “I...”

         “Nine is good Mr Watts, bye.” She hung up.

         Bitch

         Son of a...

         How had she, damn she was good Russell would like her, she was good at the  kill.   

         His mother picked that wonderful moment to burst in, staggering and blurting something accompanied by several cackling laughs that could only be the girls, she had brought them home? She never brought them home. He rubbed his face, he was going to be on tv, he was going to be the laughing stock of the nation and yet part of him was interested in meeting Veronica Mayhew of the BBC now that he had a fairly good image of what she must look like in his head.

         “Here he is.” His drunk mother was croaning, Irene who would wake up to watch her son on TV with dawning horror tomorrow with the worst hangover she had had in forty years, “Here's the hero of the day, Batman himself.”

         “Mum how many times I was not Batman.”

         “So modest.” One of the old wrinkled women said with girlish glee, he shuddered.          

         “What was it like?” Another asked, he didn't know any of their names or care, “Standing up there defending the rights of all those poor men who can't see their own children.”

         He slumped down in the thick brown couch while they spent the rest of that afternoon gushing over the minor celebrity that they knew. Irene looked on proudly loving every moment.

         The phone rang, feeling better he scooped it up first ring, “Veronica look...”

         “Do I sound like a veronica Reginald?” The gruff male voice answered.

         “Sorry, Barry look about today...” He stumbled, the smackdown...it may be coming after all Reggie had been erratic recently had he had been very publicly arrested.

         “Actually Reginald it's fine. I mean don't get me wrong when you skipped out I was Royally Pissed I was ready to lay that smackdown you were skating on such thin ice that a polar bear would have been shaking...”

         That didn't make any sense but that was Barry rarely did his buzz words make any sense, although he was getting somewhere so Reg stayed silent on the other end while the 'girls' silently watched on.

         “I saw the paper, your going through things I get that take some time off to cool down sort things else.”

         Well this was a turn out for the books Barry being almost human, could Reggie's day possibly get any stranger?

         “Uh, thank you Barry I am sorry.”

         “Yea, well don't ever do it again or your out Watts.” With that he hung up the line went dead dropping to a dial tone, he held onto the phone a moment pretending Barry were still there just to get some time alone, he nodded to the dial tone as if being spoken to.

         Forlornly he hung up the phone, “Trouble?” his mother asked.

         “No, not at all I'm just taking a few days off of work so I can get this whole embarrassing situation sorted, if you'll excuse me ladies I need a lay down.”







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