#i helped my dad redo the garage roof when i was thirteen

[kentucky-daisey]

The undeniable urge to do renovations.

I am a queer woman and I want to fix something with my hands!!! Take me to Home Depot and set me free!

[talvin-muircastle]

Writing: Runaway

Written by Talvin Muircastle in 2013.

WARNING: contains references to attempted suicide.

Jenna started running. She ran toward the river, and in the blink of the eye she was on the other side of the river.  She started running along the bank toward the marina, and suddenly there she was, still running.  She ran through the market section, skipping through the crowds, eliciting shrieks of alarm as she popped in and out of thin air.  She ran toward the docks, and she stopped by the off-ramp of the interstate.  She waited until she saw a big truck coming, and she ran out in front of it.  She almost stopped, even as the truck slammed on the brakes and laid on the horn.  But her nerve broke, and she ran again.   She came to rest on top of the Maywether Building.   She plopped down with her back against one of the gargoyles, pulled her hoodie up against the wind, and muttered, “Freak.  Stupid Freak.  Can’t even kill yourself right.”  She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her sweatshirt and stared out over the city. *thump!*  She jerked a bit and looked off to her right.  A man was standing there in a white formfitting suit with brown boots, brown cape, and a hooded mask that covered everything except his eyes and mouth. He smiled and bowed to her. “Oh, great!” she muttered, “the spandex-and-cape boys found me!  Which one are you?  I don’t follow that stuff.” The man looked a bit taken aback and said, “March Hare, at your service!  I have been following your trail for a bit.  Quite a power you have there!  So, are you a hero or a villain?”  He smiled in a weak attempt to show this was a joke. “I’m a freak.  But at least I don’t dress like one.”  She looked away.  A sigh, and then he plopped down with his back against the next gargoyle, his legs stretched out toward her.   “These old legs can’t hop like they used to.  Wish I had your power: I have to jump the old-fashioned way, you might say.  You skip through all that, it seems.  How far can you teleport?” She tried to ignore him, but he just sat there and waited patiently for an answer.  Finally, “If I can see it, I can run to it. That’s how I got to the city: I ran at the TV.  Anything to get out of there.  Dad was drunk again.”  She clamped her mouth shut—that was more than she had intended to say.   “Huh.”  He stretched his legs a little and asked, “The Moon?” “Never tried, duh.”  Dimly she thought that might be a good way to off herself, but then she shied away from the idea. “So, you are…thirteen?” “Fourteen.” “Apologies.  Fourteen.  And do you have a name?” She smiled without humor.  “Sure, just like you do.  Call me Runaway.” The March Hare laughed.  “Hey, that’s one step closer to spandex and a cape!  This is progress!” One finger.  “Fuck off.” “No, no, no, no.  You have to put some passion into it.  More exposition.”   His voice deepened dramatically, “Too many times you have annoyed me, March Hare!  But at last I have perfected my Middle Finger of Doom! The past matters not, Hero!  This time, you are going to Fuck Off Once And For All! MWAHAHAHAHAH! You know, like that.” This was just too much. She curled up into a ball and laughed and cried.  Here she was, a freak of nature, running away from home, trying to end it all, and a fat old guy in spandex tights and a cape was making jokes.  He handed her a brown and white handkerchief out of a pouch on his utility belt and she blew her nose.  Finally she asked, “Look, do you have to wear spandex?  I mean, I guess it looks good on some people, but, dude, gross!” He looked down at his belly with a rueful headshake.  “See, there is this nice Italian restaurant down by the wharf.  Got to where every time I completed a successful mission I would stop in and celebrate.  Time went on, I won more battles on the street than I lost, which meant I gained more at the table than I lost.  You shoulda seen me when I was thirty!  I was voted Tightest Buns This Side Of The River that year.  They even put them on the cover of a local magazine.  Now when I am asked to autograph a copy of that picture I feel kinda embarrassed about it. Yeah, I keep thinking maybe a change is in order, but I have gotten kinda used to the old rags.” Sirens below.  A block down, the fire department was pulling up to one of the parking garages, and cops were all over the place.  She didn’t see any fire…”There!  Somebody’s gonna jump!”  A figure had climbed over the fence on the top level of the garage and was looking down at the chaos below. “Stay here, kid.”  The March Hare got up and, squatting down, pushed off with an “oomph”.  He sailed over to the parking garage and started moving carefully along the ledge toward the jumper.  She watched, fascinated.   That coulda been me, she thought.  It looks so stupid from here.   The woman reached for March Hare’s hand.  She slipped.  He grabbed, barely holding on.  Jenna got up, sprinted across the roof, turned, and before she could change her mind, ran straight at the edge.  She jumped— OhShitThereSheIsGrabHerOhShitWe’reFallingKeepRunningRunningOnAirOhShit— They sprawled on the asphalt, and she went rolling.  Paramedics and cops were running toward them, and some guy with a badge bent over her, “Hey, kid, are you OK?”  She scrambled to her feet, pulling her hoodie close around her face.  “Calm down, not gonna hurt you, how the hell did you do that?”  She started running again, and when a cop jumped out and tried to grab her, she skipped away. Back on the Maywether Building, watching as the ambulance pulled out, then the firetrucks, then the police cars and the news vans.   *thump* “Good save there, Hero.”  No mockery in his voice, “My old heart about stopped when she slipped out of my hand.” “Thanks, MH.” He sat down across from her again.  “You ready to talk about it?  Your Dad, your abilities…anything?” She sighed and looked out toward the river.  “Anything.  Maybe even everything.  But I want some Italian first.  I earned it.  You’re buying.”  This earned a chuckle and a salute from the Hare.   “You know, I am getting old for this business.  Today almost proved it.   Been meaning to find a partner, an apprentice-like, who could help me out.  Train her up in the way a Hero should go, maybe help her find a better situation than the one she was in?” She nodded, “Yeah…yeah, maybe.  But I am not wearing spandex!” His voice was light, “And the hearts of a million teenage boys were broken, but I can live with their suffering.  Something more practical, and I can use that as an excuse to redo my own image.   The bullets kinda sting when they bounce off nowadays, so maybe some body armor.  It’s a deal.” “And you are going on a diet.” He made a face, “Who’s running this outfit anyhow?  Ah, never mind.  You’ve got me.  You get good Italian food, and I get…the heart healthy menu.  Bleh. So, do you have a name, or do I just call you Alice?” “Jenna.” “OK, Jenna.  I’m Frank.” “Yeah?  Well I can be, too.  Which is how you’re going on a diet.” “Ow!  It burns!”