#45: Reality’s Leftovers

Both Simon and I awoke early, not even daybreak, well before either Trent or Stella. We snuck down to the kitchen, me in my replacement civvies and Simon in his pajamas, clutching his stuffed dinosaur. I began to make us some pancakes. For a kid who’d nearly been blown to pieces by Arms of Krupp henchmen a mere twelve hours earlier, he hardly seemed traumatized at all—he seemed well-rested and cheerful, whereas I had hardly slept a wink. “I’m going to call her Dobie, Aunt Clarissa,” he said. “Dobie the Dinosword.”
     “How do you know she’s a girl?” I asked. “On second thought, don’t answer that; I want to go on thinking of you as an innocent kid for as long as I can.”

#44: The Saucer in the Back Yard

“You need to slip out of those grass-stained clothes,” said Preston. “Especially that bloodied Abyssinian Wolves sweatshirt, Trent. My people are bringing over a replacement even as we speak.”

#43: The Arms of Krupp

I didn’t know how to express my concerns to Trent: that we were all in grave danger, civilian and megahero alike; that malevolent scientists had split the universe apart, then recombined it, and might be trying to split it apart yet again; or that the only thing holding this crazy Everything-but-the-Kitchen Sinkverse together at the moment might be the two-year old offspring of Megaton Man and the See-Thru Girl, who at that very moment was busy chasing squirrels with a squirt gun in Broadway Park in Ann Arbor.

#42: The Theoretical Unraveling of the Kitchen Sinkverse

Avie and I immediately wanted to whisk our newfound grandmother up Woodward Avenue to Eight Mile to reunite with our Mama, who hadn’t seen her mother in over forty years. But Grandma said she had to make an urgent phone call first. Seedy used my dial-up rotary phone and Avie, Charles, and I—and Audrey, who was still dressed in my Ms. Megaton Man uniform—crowded into the tiny kitchen of my garret apartment to give Grandma some privacy. I had a feeling it was some kind of official scientific business.

#41: The Thirteenth Scientist

So, there I was, standing in the studio space of my garret apartment while my Asian friend, Audrey—who had a body virtually identical to mine, except with slightly bigger boobs—wore my Ms. Megaton Man uniform, while the woman who had sewn it—my long-lost grandmother, Mercedith Robeson-James—inspected her handiwork like it was hanging on a department-store mannequin. I had just phoned my half-sister, Avie, that Seedy James, whom our mother had always died working for the government during World War II, was alive and well, and Avie said she was on her way over…
     But before I tell you what happened next, there’s a part I skipped over. So let me back up.

#40: Topmost Secret Priority

Finally, it was the first day of fall semester of my senior year in college. It was a bright, sunny morning in Detroit’s midtown, with traffic crossing Warren and pulsing down Woodward at a brisk pace. I had an early morning class at the Arbor State Extension by the museum, which meant I had to cross that busy intersection; I was nearly run over by a Mack truck running a red light. Later, on the way back, I had to dodge a city bus that apparently didn’t want to brake for a black girl to get to my late morning class on the campus of Warren Woodward University.

#39: North Cass Ditty in the City

“So, you played ‘Deep Throat’ to Pammy Jointly’s Woodward and Bernstein, then you deep-throated Trent Phloog to alleviate your guilt,” said my half-sister.

#38: My Appointment with Pammy (or, Meeting Jointly)

I pushed thoughts of my parents’ pending divorce out of my mind and resisted the temptation to fly up to our old Boswick-Addison neighborhood and confront them about the matter. Daddy would still be at work at that hour—or perhaps he was parked at some motel in Dearborn instead—and I had enough issues on the table with Mama. She refused to reveal the identity of my biological father, and—as I had discovered during my trip to New York over the winter—had for reasons unknown lied to me and Avie all our lives about our grandmother’s death. Apparently, Grandma Seedy—Dr. Mercedith Robeson-James—hadn’t died on some government mission during World War II, as we’d been told, but was alive and well. In fact, she’d even manufactured my custom-made Ms. Megaton Man uniform especially for me in a place called the Doomsday Factory in New Jersey, although I still hadn’t met her.

#37: The First Holistic-Humanist Congregation of Cass City

About a week after my tumble with Nuke, I was coming home from my summer class at the Arbor State Extension and passing the church, hoping perhaps to get another glimpse of the man with the stretchy arm. A white van had just pulled into the church parking lot with a New York license plate. The brake lights went out, the engine shut off, and the side passenger door opened. An orange, fur-covered arm had pushed it open; then, a leg that looked more animal than human stepped out. Long, shiny saber teeth protruded from the mouth of the enormous tiger-man that appeared. He wore long shorts, a tank top, and tennis shoes.

#36: Sex and the Single Megahero

It was strange for me to realize, but considering the variety and sheer number of sexual experiences I’d had in the two years since I'd lost my virginity to Yarn Man, my relationship with Nancy—that is to say, Agatha—was the closest thing to a normal, dating relationship I’d ever had. This was due, in part, to her being a civilian—as opposed to being a megahero or former megahero. But it was more because most of the sex I’d had up to that point in my life had been impromptu hook-ups: I shagged Yarn Man the moment I’d laid eyes on him, and later we shacked up in the basement rec room my Daddy built and seldom went out thereafter. That summer, when I became Ms. Megaton Man, I spent a couple of weeks binge-partying with every college athlete on the Arbor State University campus—male or female—just before the fall semester of my repeat junior year began. At the very end of the school year, I finally did it with Trent, whom I had gotten to know from living in the same house as him over the previous two and a half years; we certainly had never gone out on a date.

#35: Giving Nuke a Tumble

So, I have to tell you about the magenta-haired art student, Nancy—although that’s not her real name, turns out.
     My summer class hadn’t started yet, but I was settled into my garret apartment, such as it was; I just had my bed and a side table, and a few milk crates, as I mentioned. I had a big empty space in the corner of the small studio next to my bed, directly when you walked in the door. It was too small for a sofa, and I was going to need a desk or something to set my portable typewriter on and do homework—the fifties kitchen table wasn’t going to cut it. I’d left my desk in Ann Arbor—but there was time to find something else. First, I needed to find a job.

#34: You’re Not the Boss of Me

The apartment I found was affordable—that was perhaps its first and only attribute, aside from being next to the First Holistic-Humanist Congregation of Cass City, a free-thinking quasi-Christian sect housed in a rusticated Gothic church. Located on West Forest Avenue a couple blocks west of Woodward at Cass, my apartment was on the third floor of a once-modest townhouse turned into sawed-off rental units run by a white-trash couple from down south. You think I’m being mean, but if you saw them, you’d agree. The woman was a mean old bitty who dyed her hair red and the man wore a toupee that looked like a bird’s nest…but that’s neither here nor there.
     I had the picturesque garret apartment in what was once part of the attic, basically one room, a kitchen, and a bath, with all kinds of ceilings angling every which way, and windows pointing to the front and side of the building. There were other apartments on the top floor, and a long hallway that ran to the back of the house to the external back stairs—these egresses would come in useful if I needed to be Ms. Megaton Man in a pinch. At least it was a place to hold my stuff, although I’m not sure I’d call it secure. But at least it was within easy walking distance of the Arbor State extension, Warren Woodward, and the Union Stripe restaurant, where I landed a waitressing gig.

#33: Arbor State Extension

The spring before my senior year, I left the main campus of Arbor State University fully expecting to return to Ann Arbor in the fall to complete my double-major in Labor Studies and Urban Issues. I planned to take one class through the Arbor State extension in midtown Detroit over the summer. I could have taken it just as easily back in Ann Arbor in the coming fall, but getting it out of the way while I was back home would “even me up” in terms of credits and allow me to start my senior year as a full-fledged senior. This was important to me following the debacle of my repeated junior year—a series of regretful incidents I fondly referred to as my “delayed freshman crisis.” These involved sex, drugs, and Yarn Man, not necessarily in that order; an intervention by my parents; and an eventual return to the straight and narrow.

#32: Notes from Underground

Foreword to Volume II: North Cass Corridor

I want to thank John Bradford, former columnist of The Detroit Day and longtime adjunct writing instructor at Warren Woodward University—present whereabouts unknown—for the personal encouragement and guidance he provided, which enabled and empowered me to compose this and a previous volume of my reflections on being a megahero—namely, Ms. Megaton Man. Although never formally my editor, the feedback he provided on my first volume and his encouragement to undertake this second were invaluable to me. I will sorely miss him and his inspiration.

#31: Man, Woman

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#30: Miscegenation Man

The breeze coming off the East River over the old Navy Yards was crisp and cold as we packed up the Pacer on the rooftop of the Youthful Permutations headquarters. We were about to say our goodbyes to the Y+Thems when the Q-Mobile descended on the Navy Yard warehouse roof, and Yarn Man when Kozmik Kat hopped out. Koz announced he would be staying in Megatropolis.
     “My place is at his side,” said Koz. “Especially if he’s going to be tending bar at the Tudor City Club—someone’s got to keep an eye on him.”

#29: Megaton vs. Meltdown

As I caught up to the Q-Mobile, I could feel the heat rising from the open top; even though the winter air was frigid, the Human Meltdown was giving off considerable body heat. Chuck was on top of my sister in the back seat, her body underneath his. She was screaming and pounding him with her fists.
     “Get off me!” she shouted, her arms flailing. “I don’t want this!”
     “Just relax, honey,” he replied. “Enjoy the ride. You wouldn’t want to hop out now—it’s quite a drop into the drink.”
     I had no real fear that he would drop my sister from the Q-Mobile, but it was also clear he was overpowering her; her jacket and shirt were ripped open, and her pants were pulled down. Chuck had the lower half of his red and yellow costume also pulled down; he was obviously readying himself to penetrate her.
     That’s when I grabbed his hair.

#28: Everything But the Kitchen Sink

The next morning, I decided to take up Dana—Domina—on her offer from a few days earlier to throw me into the deep end of the Y+Thems’ Devastation Chamber. After Avie and I hit the showers together—to avoid another incident with Chuck Roast—I suited up in my Ms. Megaton Man uniform while Avie dressed.
     “Where’s my shoulder bag?” asked Avie.
     “I don’t see it around here,” I said. “Did you leave it up in the Q-Mobile? After Bing parked on the roof, I remember you bringing your blanket down. But I don’t remember the shoulder bag. Why, did you need something from it?”
     “Nothing important,” said Avie. “I’m sure it’ll be safe for the time being.”

#27: A Side Trip to New Jersey

A couple thousand feet in the air now, Yarn Man took a left, which became a wide U-turn; soon we were heading south over the Bay of New York. To the west was New Jersey; below us were Ellis and Liberty Islands; the Statue of Liberty lay dead ahead. Beyond that, as my visor readout labeled for me, were the large gantry cranes loading and unloading container ships in the Port Jersey Marine Terminal. Beyond that was Bayonne, a New Jersey town long industrialized to the point of toxicity, and already past its peak in terms of economic output and population.

#26: The Hole on Fifth Avenue

The next morning I woke up with Avie standing over my lower bunk, soaking wet and wrapped in a towel, in a total panic.
     “I was taking a shower down the hall,” she said, gasping for breath. “And who walked in but that Chuck fellow.”
     “Stella’s half-brother?” I asked. “Chuck Roast? The Human Meltdown? The one you’d cast as America’s Nuclear-Powered Hero?” This was probably no time to rub it in.
     “I don’t think so any more,” said Avie, almost crying. “He barged in on the ladies’ shower, dropped his towel—he’s drop-dead gorgeous, by the way—but then he claimed it was all a mistake.”
     “He was putting the moves on you?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

#25: The Devastation Chamber

Avie and I went downstairs to the Observation Booth. Koz was already there; some of the Y+Thems who knew him were glad to see him and were petting him. Ordinarily, Koz abhorred being petted, but he was basking in the limelight. “My God,” I said. “This is just like show business.”

#24: Start Spreading the News

Over the winter break, I did make a trip to New York—not as Ms. Megaton Man, but as a plain, civilian tourist—with my sister Avie. We made plans over Thanksgiving: Avie was eager to see all the hot Broadway shows and museum exhibits and do shopping, while I drew up an itinerary that included definitely meeting my father. Since I didn’t know how to do that, I just planned to visit every megahero team I could think of, starting with Bing’s Youthful Permutations.
     When we realized it would cost us a fortune to stay in a Manhattan hotel for a week, or even for lodgings reasonably close to the city, Koz suggested we stay in the Y+Thems dormitory. It wouldn’t be elegant, but it would be free.

#23: Dining Room Diagrams

Back on Ann Street, a couple evenings later, I calmly spread a paper map of downtown Ann Arbor and the campus of Arbor State University over the dining room table. Over that, I spread sheets of tracing paper—the biggest I could find was a pad from a stationary store, so I had to tape sheets together. On this surface, I drew the coordinates my visor had calculated based on my cape’s tour through the underground network of Megatonic University.

#22: Dr. Joe’s Lab

I still had no idea where Megatonic University was located. I only recalled Preston Percy saying he had relocated to Ann Arbor to oversee several projects “around and under” the Arbor State University campus. He denied that these had anything to do with any fabled Megaton University, but they must have been important for a secret agent to abandon his perch on the Ivy-Covered Halls of Higher Learning orbiting satellite and relocate from New York besides.
     But I was no closer to knowing exactly where Dr. Joseph Levitch’s secret laboratory was.

#21: Daddy Issues

It was the fourth week of September, with the semester well underway, that something miraculous happened: I found myself in the kitchen in the middle of the week having lunch with Trent, Stella, and baby Simon in his high chair. A meal with all three of them almost never happened, given our busy schedules, despite living in the same house. Pammy was absent—she was back in Ann Arbor but was busy lecturing and in the final stages of preparing her manuscript for publication, which was to be released the following spring.

#20: Campy, Coverless Comics

I went back to the van and put on my civvies, then the four of us—Samson, Preston, Koz, and I—met at an outdoor table in front of the bookstore to compare notes.
     Preston reported that at that very moment agents from ICHHL were investigating Mervyn Goldfarb’s apartment. Sure enough, he was formerly employed by Dr. Joe Levitch’s lab years before when it was still located in Ann Arbor, and recently had taken to cooking up batches of homemade Mega-Soldier Syrup in his bathtub and selling it to unwary college students at a huge profit. Notes located already seemed to indicate it was an obsolete formula and the Mervyn hadn’t been too particular about following the recipe precisely.

#19: Megatonic University

At least now I knew I was as tough as Megaton Man. I had survived being sucked up into the orbiting ICHHL satellite and the subsequent drop back to earth. My government-issued uniform and space helmet had proven their mettle as well. But that didn’t mean I considered myself a full-time megahero—far from it. For one thing, I was never one of those crime fighters who went around wearing her uniform under her street clothes in case she needed to change into her secret identity and save the world on a moment’s notice. I didn’t have one of those world-savior egos. Beat up somebody for cheating on their mid-term? For the most part, my Ms. Megaton Man uniform—along with my cool new visor and other accoutrements—remained safely tucked away in a garment bag in the back of my closet on Ann Street, although this never sat well with my cape, who loathed hibernation mode and yearned to be free.

#18: Origin Secrets

Kozmik Kat and I couldn’t agree whether he was now my sidekick or I was his—just in case we were ever officially called into action for some mission. We didn’t come to blows over this, since it was mostly hypothetical; as soon as the fall semester started, I planned to put my Quarantinium-Quelluminum mesh-fiber Ms. Megaton Man uniform in its garment bag and consign it to the back of the closet. The hard part was learning to put my cape into hibernation, which I could only do through some complex instructions on my touch-screen visor. But before I could do that, I still had one personal mission of my own to perform.

#17: Body by Nuke

What took place on my virgin flight and immediately thereafter has been greatly exaggerated in the media, most notably in that aforementioned scandalous “novel,” Megasomething. If you believed everything in that account, you’d be persuaded I had gone on a tear with every student athlete returning to the Arbor State campus for late-summer training camps—and taken on scores of lovers besides. The precise number bandied about is one hundred and twenty-seven men and thirty-one women—which was totally made up. I should know, because I made it up.

#16: Ms. Megaton Man Breaks Out!

That summer following my delayed junior-year freshman crisis began quietly enough. Duly chastened by the academic catastrophe of my own making, I begged and got myself hired back as a waitress at the Drowned Mug Café; all seemed forgiven and forgotten. I worked my ass off there for the entire month of May; when June rolled around, I went off again to Camp Michi-Fo-La-Ca again. So far, this was my typical summer routine.

#15: Yarn Man’s Hippie Crash Pad

The next morning, I phoned Avie and told her not to come out to Ann Arbor to pick me up. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “You don’t have any incompletes or anything, do you?”
     “No, of course not,” I said.
     “They don’t need you at the Drowned Mug, do they?” she asked.
     “No,” I said. I didn’t mention I got fired.
     “You met some guy!” she said.
     “No, I did not meet some guy,” I replied. During the entire Thanksgiving weekend at home in Detroit, I had never mentioned once that Yarn Man had shown up and was being held a virtual prisoner—for his own good—in our Ann Street basement. Nor had I mentioned he was still there. “I just like the snow better in Ann Arbor.”

#14: Thanks for the Use of the Safe Room

The object descending upon us was egg-shaped, with a flat bottom; it sprouted retractable landing gear with disc-shaped pads from its underside as it descended from the night sky over Ann Street.
     Pammy and Matt, who by now had come out onto the porch, were also gazing up at the sky.
     “Looks like one of those old-fashioned beauty shop hair dryers,” said Matt, “like old ladies would sit under in hair curlers.”
     He was right—that’s exactly what it looked like.
     “It’s just Preston,” said Pammy, “making a big, show-offy entrance, as usual.”
     “Preston?” I said. “Secret Agent Preston Percy? What’s he doing up in outer space?”

#13: Late to the Party from Mars

As Thanksgiving approached, Stella announced she was going to make a big, traditional Thanksgiving dinner—a giant turkey with all the fixings. It was time to make use of the house and make it feel like a home, Stella said, and everyone was invited. This in itself was remarkable; even though we all lived in the same house, our differing schedules seldom permitted more than two of us to ever sit down and eat at the same time.

#12: Kozmik Kat’s Trick-or-Treat

The next time I saw costumed characters on Ann Street, I happened to be one of them.
     It was October, and apple cider was in season; Trent bought some fresh, at the Ann Arbor farmer’s market, and he and Pammy and I sat on the porch sipping. It was a warm Indian summer afternoon; I realized that Halloween would soon be upon us.

#11: The Ivy-Covered Halls of Higher Learning

Preston led me to the Drowned Mug Café a few doors down from Border Worlds Used and Slightly New Bookstore on State Street—the same place I had had a cup of coffee with Stella the first day I met her. Neither Preston or I said a word. Busted, I thought, for pounding on the door of an official Ivy-Covered Halls of Higher Learning spy van parked around the corner from our Ann Street house.

#10: The Local Section

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#9: The Dean’s List, Again

“You lost your virginity to Yarn Man?” My sister Avril was both horrified and fascinated. “Now I know you’re making it all up—about living in a house with Megaheroes and the whole bit. I don’t believe that Trent Phloog ever was Megaton Man or any other Megahero, either…and Stella, well…she’s pretty and all, but she’s hardly ravishing enough to have been the See-Thru Girl.”

#8: A Night at the Hospital, a Day in the Funny Papers

It was late when the doctor finally spoke to me and Pammy in the waiting room. She told us what Stella had experienced were known as false contractions; she hadn’t gone into labor yet; her membrane hadn’t even ruptured. In other words, her water hadn’t broken. It might still be another seventy-two hours before she went into real labor. The way Stella had been overdoing things lately, this came as no surprise. The stress and strain she’d put herself under to get ahead before she’d have to take time off from school had brought this on, I guessed. Not to mention Trent Phloog reverting to Megaton Man—the father of her child—again, thanks to Secret Agent Preston Percy’s booster shot. Still, the doctor said they wanted to keep her overnight, just in case.

#7: The Mysterious Preston Percy

It was the last Saturday in March, just a few days before Stella was to go into the hospital—to give birth to the love child of Megaton Man—when again Daddy’s pickup rolled into the driveway. I heard the honk from upstairs. Only this time it wasn’t carrying a load of gravel, or Daddy; when I got to the front porch, Avril was letting down the tailgate. There was something big and boxy under the blanket.

#6: Civilian Trent

If Trent Phloog was Megaton Man, or used to be, he’d clearly undergone a radical change of heart. Instead of the cavalier Megahero who had spurned Stella’s pursuit of a relationship back in Megatropolis, he was now a normal, mild-mannered Civilian—and an underemployed autodidact—in Ann Arbor who now wanted desperately to play a part in his baby-mama’s life—any part at all.

#5: Calling Occupants (of Interplanetary Craft)

Pedestrians were already running in the opposite direction, away from Central Park, on the sidewalks and between the traffic that had ground to a halt on Madison Avenue. The cabbie pounded the steering wheel: “There’s no respect for the working man!” He cursed UFOs as well as all Megaheroes.

#4: Spring Break

The spring semester began much as the fall semester had ended, for me at least; I saw little but the insides of libraries and classrooms and study carrels. Except that I now came home to housemates who also knew little but school work. Pammy had new students to grade and Stella had new teachers, and each of us had our respective college work cut out for us. There was little enough time for my housemates to dwell upon the world of Megaheroes they’d left behind in distant Megatropolis, let alone for me to give it much thought.

#3: Me and Sue Caza!

Back in Detroit, Mama James made the usual turkey feast with all the fixings—enough for an army should they drop by to watch football with Daddy. But it was just them and me and my sister Avril—who was still in high school and lived at home—for Thanksgiving.
     “I’m moving out of the dorms,” I announced, right after the blessing. This went over about as well as if I had suddenly revealed some entirely unforeseen sexual orientation.

#2: Need to Know

Even though she claimed to be fed up with mad science and Megaheroics, listening to Stella’s story all afternoon made me feel like even more of a boring non-entity than I did before. But I was sufficiently curious about her past life as the See-Thru Girl I might have trudged north to the second-floor comic book shop to find out more on the subject—I’m such a nerd—even though I knew the Megaheroes in comic books were mostly made up. And this girl—with a body that didn’t stop—was not made up.

#1: Meet Stella Starlight!

Volume I: Ann Street

My name’s Clarissa James—although you may know me better as Ms. Megaton Man, if you’ve ever heard of me at all. If you haven’t, that’s all right; I’m not one of the better-known megaheroes out there. But if you happen to have read the book Megasomething, you’re at least familiar with a highly-fictionalized version of me—and a few of my more sensational friends.