Ashley Jason

5. CHAPTER TWO-1

Despite my worries about my nightmare, I must have fallen asleep at some point because I did wake up at the sound of Cora’s alarm clock going off. Blearily, Cora and I showered, got dressed, and then headed down to breakfast. Cora did ask me if I had the nightmare again, but I told her I did not. The only nice thing about the nightmare was that I only experienced it once a night. If I woke up and went back to sleep, I didn’t have any other dreams or nightmares for the rest of the night.

We made our way to the kitchen of Cora’s house, following the scent of eggs and bacon. Stepping into the kitchen, it was surprisingly empty, with only Cora’s dad standing at the oven, cooking bacon, eggs, and even waffles. He must have been at it for a while, however, because there was a huge plate of eggs and bacon next to him as he hummed and turned the bacon over in the skillet. The kitchen TV, set at the end of the counter next to the fridge, was on the news. A glance showed me a Central News Network reporter about to interview some politician, but the delicious-smelling breakfast food distracted me from the TV.

“Morning, girls,” said Cora’s dad, glancing over his shoulder at us and flashing us a friendly smile. “You’re up early.”

“The bacon woke us up, dad,” Cora replied as she snatched a piece of bacon off the pile next to the oven and popped it in her mouth. “And the eggs. Love the eggs.”

“Yes, Mr. Bistro, it looks great,” I said, glancing at the huge pile of food he had already prepared. “But there’s so much to eat.”

“When you have five kids, you kind of need that much,” said Mr. Bistro with a chuckle. “Fortunately for you, the youngsters are still asleep. So you two get first dibs on breakfast. Grab a couple of plates and take a seat.”

Nodding, Cora and I scooped a lot of eggs and bacon onto our plates. I also grabbed a cup of coffee and the two of us sat down at the Bistro family’s large dining room table. It had a simple white tablecloth with floral designs on it, though the tablecloth was slightly stained and torn in a few places. I didn’t mind, though. Sitting at the table with Cora reminded me of the old days when we were younger and I would spend the night at her house and have breakfast with her and her family. Kind of like now.

“So how did you two sleep last night?” said Mr. Bistro as he dumped another pan of bacon onto the pile.

“Well,” Cora said promptly, “though Ashley had a nightmare.”

“Again?” Mr. Bistro said, glancing over his shoulder at me. “That’s a shame. Hope you didn’t lose too much sleep. Don’t want Kevin to think I’m making you sleep-deprived.”

I chuckled. Mr. Bistro, who was a lawyer, and my Dad were old friends. I’d known Mr. Bistro for so long that I practically thought of him as an uncle, even though I wasn’t related to him at all. Frankly, Cora and I were more like cousins than friends, so it was easy for me to see Mr. Bistro as Uncle James.

“It’s fine,” I said as I sipped my coffee. “I’ve had worse. Anyway, what are you doing here this morning? Shouldn’t you be at your law firm now?”

“Decided to take the day off,” said Mr. Bistro as he shut off the stovetop, apparently pleased with the number of eggs he had made. He whirled around, his apron shaking slightly as he said, with a big smile, “Today is Cora’s birthday!”

I winced and looked at Cora apologetically. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. Sorry, Cora.”

“No big deal,” said Cora with a wave. “You had a bad nightmare last night. I know you wouldn’t forget my birthday that easily.”

I nodded, even though I still felt pretty guilty. “But I didn’t even get you a gift.”

“Again, no problem,” said Cora. “Really, I’m fine as long as you’re fine.”

“You may not have gotten her a gift, but I did,” said Mr. Bistro. He pulled out a handful of tickets from his back pocket. “Cora, we’re going to see The Neos live in concert next month!”

Cora’s jaw dropped. “Really? But Neos tickets are practically impossible to get! How—?”

Mr. Bistro smirked. “Being the lawyer of the stadium where they are going to play their concert comes with certain perks, including free tickets. Soon as I heard that’s where The Neos were playing, I knew I had to get some tickets.”

Cora jumped from her chair and hugged Mr. Bistro. “You’re the best dad ever! This is gonna be so awesome. I’ve always wanted to go to a Neos concert. It’s my life’s dream.” She suddenly let go of Mr. Bistro and looked at him with concern. “What about Bart?”

Mr. Bistro shook the tickets in her face. “I got three tickets. One for you, one for me, and one for Bart.”

Cora squeed again and hugged her dad. Meanwhile, I just shook my head in an amused way and ate another piece of bacon.

‘Bart’ was Bartholomew Henson, who Cora had been dating since right before I went to the Academy. I didn’t know Bart all that well, but it didn’t surprise me that Cora wanted him to come with them. She was totally gaga over Bart and wanted to do pretty much everything with him. He was pretty handsome, but not really my type. I was happy for Cora, though, because she deserved something nice for her birthday. Her dad obviously thought so, too.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Barrett Marcus on the TV. Whipping my head to look at the TV, I was confused as to why Barrett suddenly looked older.

Sitting in a recliner in a studio was a man who looked like an older version of Barrett. Same deep brown skin, brown eyes, and general face, the only difference being the lines on his skin and a scar on his right cheek. He wore a fine dark suit with a striking red tie with dragon designs on it. His hair was shorter than Barrett’s, and the more I looked at him, the more I realized that he wasn’t my Superbian friend at all. There was a reason he looked so much like Barrett, though, and my suspicion was confirmed for me when I looked at the ticker at the bottom of the screen:

HIGHLIGHTS FROM LAST NIGHT’S INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT FRANKLIN PIETRO ‘DRAGON KING’ MARCUS, PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC OF SUPERBIA

Sitting opposite President Marcus was another man I hadn’t seen before. He looked a little older than President Marcus, but that was probably due to his grayer hair. He wore a gray suit and blue tie and looked a lot softer overall than President Marcus. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, but the way he looked at President Marcus made me think he didn’t like him very much.

“Oh, it’s the Mark Dane interview from last night,” said Mr. Bistro, snapping me out of my thoughts. He had stopped hugging Cora and was looking at the TV with a fond smile. “I missed it because I was working so late.”

“Mark Dane?” I said. “Who’s that?”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Only the most bestest awesomest reporter on TV who Dad has a total man crush on.”

“I do not,” Mr. Bistro insisted. “Mark Dane is simply one of my favorite Central News Network reporters. His reporting is usually top-notch, but it’s his interviews where he really shines. He’s interviewed tons of people that most reporters can’t. For example, last year he interviewed the supervillain Tsunami from his Ultimate Max prison cell, the first interview Tsunami gave in ten years.”

I looked at the TV again and frowned. “So he interviewed President Marcus last night?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Bistro said. He picked up the remote from the table and pressed a couple of buttons. “Here, let me start it from the beginning. I was just watching the interview when you two walked in, so I only need to rewind a few minutes.”

The video rewound to the beginning and started playing. Important-sounding classical music blared from the TV as a voice off-screen said, “Central News Network welcomes viewers to another fascinating Mark Dane interview. In this interview, Mark Dane interviews President Franklin ‘Dragon King’ Marcus, the founder and president of the Republic of Superbia, on life, politics, relations between normals and supers, superhuman rights, and more.”

The camera panned to show President Marcus and Dane sitting in the same positions as before. President Marcus sat back, looking quite relaxed, while Dane was leaning forward slightly as if trying to make sure President Marcus didn’t get away. It seemed weirdly hostile for some reason as if Dane had some sort of grudge against him.

“President Marcus,” said Dane, apparently skipping all formalities and introductions, “it’s wonderful to have you here at the studio. I know you are a very busy man, being the leader of the world’s only superhuman nation and all. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to speak with me.”

President Marcus flashed Dane a very white smile. “It is of no consequence, Mr. Dane. Your interviews are some of the only American news shows I regularly watch. Thus, when my assistant received your email interview request, I, of course, had to accept it.”

“Good, good,” said Dane with a nod. “Yes, we’ve very excited to have you here. I’ve wanted to interview you for a long time, so this is exciting for me as well.”

President Marcus sipped his tiny bottled water. “Then you may proceed with the questions.”

“Certainly,” said Dane. “As you know, to us ‘normals,’ Superbia is a fascinating and even exotic place. Whereas nearly every country in the world has some supers, Superbia is the only true superhuman nation, the first of its kind. What sort of challenges do you face as you lead an entire country of superheroes?”

President Marcus laughed. “Please. We are not a country of ‘superheroes.’ That is a false understanding of Superbia. As we say in Superbia, there are no superheroes or supervillains. We are all simply super.”

“Do you mean to say that you don’t have crime?” asked Dane in surprise. “I only ask because your country is very tight about what information is let out into the world. Some might even say too tight. What do you have to say about that?”

I frowned. Dane had struck me as being too polite, but it seemed like he was more on the ball than he looked. I already knew about Superbia not having superheroes or villains, though. Barrett had told me that on my first day at the Academy. In fact, he’d even used those exact words. Perhaps it was a popular saying in Superbia.

President Marcus lowered his bottled water onto the table next to his chair. “Unfortunately, we do, indeed, have crime in Superbia. It is mostly normals, however, committing crimes, especially normals who do not have jobs or refuse to integrate with the wider society. While we do have some super criminals, they make up a very small percentage of the overall criminal population in our country, less than ten percent based on the latest research from the Institute.”