dochermes | Entries tagged with lisa lawson

"To Dust We Return"

6/14/2023

I.

Jeremy Bane was in a restless, troubled mood. The hyper metabolism which gave him his enhanced speed and reflexes also charged him with excess energy that had to constantly be burned off. Already that morning, he had gone through his DohRa form, showered and changed into what was practically his uniform of black slacks, turtleneck and sports jacket. And now he was at a loss what to do for the rest of the day. There were no threats in the air as far as he could see. The Midnight War had certainly quieted down since the hectic days when he had led the KDF against the likes of Karl Eldritch, the Preincarnators or Wu Lung.

Pacing around a living room so free from clutter that it seemed no one lived there, the Dire Wolf tried without success to calm down. At sixty-five, he still showed few signs of age other than a scattering of white in the short black hair and lines at the outer corners of those pale grey eyes. He was still lean to the point of seeming gaunt and he circled the room with the easy stride of a much younger man.

The day before, he had called Sable to see if the newest KDF team had anything on hand and had been regretfully told no. He had phoned Sheng at the Fist For Hire agency and gotten the same wry answer. It had been weeks since any sightings of paranormal activity, crypto-beasts or new criminal masterminds. Maybe it was time to return to Tel Shai for a week. He would spend some welcome time with Cindy, get more intense training from Teacher Chael, maybe add annotations to the Great Archives. Yes. That was a good idea.

Bane paused in front of the picture window which looked out on Pierpont Street. A dark blue Subaru Outback was coming to a stop against the curb. That was Police Detective Chatcuff's car and there was the short stocky form of Harvey Chatcuff himself getting out to walk up the short flagstone path across Bane's tiny front yard. The Dire Wolf felt his spirits lift as if hearing a bugle calling charge. Something was up!

As he waited by the door, Bane thought again about how Megan Salenger had repeatedly tried to install Trom scanners on the steps outside to check for ID matches in NYPD or Mandate files, as well as sensors to read off a visitor's height and weight, blood pressure, heartbeat and whether or not large bits of metal were on his person. Bane had refused. He had thought at the time he was actually retiring from the Midnight War. Now, when he remembered Megan, he wished he had humored her. It would have made her happy.

As the doorbell rang, the Dire Wolf took a deep breath. He was counting on his Kunmundu training to be sure that this was Harvey Chatcuff and that the
body language indicated no intention to attack. Opening the door, he swung sideways and gestured for the man to enter. "Detective Chatcuff! I know there's trouble when you drive all the way out here to Forest Hills."

"Hiya, Bane," came the strongly New Yawk accented voice. "Nobody else here?"

"No. Sit down and tell me what disaster you want me to stop."

Lowering himself to a chair facing the leather-covered couch, Chatfuff unbottoned his suit jacket to let his paunch breathe a little. "I have to give the usual speech first. This is unoffical, off the record, unauthorized and all that. The Department does not use you as a freelance vigilante. In fact, I didn't even come here today."

Bane dropped down on the couch, clasping his hands together as he felt alive for the first time in a week. "Understood."

"I don't even have any photos or reports or anything to show you. But I know your memory is good. First victim was Howard John Nivens, 48, lived on Sycamore Avenue in Glenville, Long Island. He was found Monday morning between two residential houses. Both lungs were crammed full of dry dirt."

The Dire Wolf's pale eyes lit up. "That's something new."

"I sure never heard of such a thing. And the ME is so stumped he yells at anyone who asks him how it was done. Then, last night at two-thirty in the morning, a man's body was found behind a Chinese restaurant on Broadway in Carlinton, Long Island. Name was Stan Woodrow. Age 41. His chest was crushed flat, sternum cracked and every rib broken. And like Nivens, it's a mystery how he was killed."

"Yeah? Why is that?" It never occurred to Bane to offer coffee or tea to his visitor. His manners would never be polished.

"Well, the captain has an idea that someone put a flat piece of wood or metal on his body and then drove over it with a car. Sounds plausible. But Woodrow was found sprawled up against the wall of the Chinese restaurant and the forensic guys found fibers from his coat pressed into the bricks. Some blood as well."

Despite himself, the Dire Wolf got up on his feet and began pacing. He couldn't help it, being restless under the best of conditions. "Oh, this is interesting. Let me think about it. I suppose it could still be done. Two guys hold the victim up against the restaurant wall with a board across his chest. Then a third man drives a car or truck forward slowly to press against the board. The victim falls, they grab the board and ride away."

"Could be. But there's one more interesting detail. Bane, dirt was found pressed into the fabric of the front of Woodrow's coat and shirt. Lab says it's identical to the soil that killed Nivens."

( the rest of the story )

"The Chimera Is Back!"

6/19/-6/22/2012

I.

Haley's landings needed so much work. Summoning tornado winds to lift her into the sky and even to travel at a hundred feet up was relatively easy with the Air Gem. But lessening those winds gradually and coming down to the ground safely was much more difficult. The concentration needed was so demanding that she couldn't get it right.

So the Windcatcher was practicing over Lake Schoonmaker, eight miles from her home in Glenville, Long Island. Sitting on the white sand shore were her two best friends and romantic couple for more than a year, Gina and Bentley.

Descending to twenty feet, Haley swept back the heavy blue cloak over her shoulders. It was a big help in guiding her flight while in the air, but a real nuisance at the moment. She dropped her legs down, spread her arms out wide and her thoughts wandered for an instant as a fish broke the surface nearby. That was all it took. She plummeted straight down with a mighty splash.

"Drat this anyway!" she spluttered and began stroking toward shore. Tall at seventeen with long legs, she was a strong swimmer who loved the water but at the moment she was vexed beyond endurance. The wet heavy cloak weighed her down like a blanket. Her chestnut hair was tied back in a ponytail but her bangs were too long and hanging in her eyes, dripping heavily.

Standing with his feet in the water, Bentley held a cork lifesaver ring he had taken from his uncle's pool. This had been his idea. He watched Haley drawing nearer without being able to hide his concern. If she seemed to be struggling, he was going in to help her whether she wanted it or not.

Gina Giacomo had come over to stand beside him. Italian on both sides, she was widely considered by the boys to be the sexiest junior at their high school. That day, she was wearing the bottom half of a blue bikini with a fuzzy white long-sleeved shirt. She had no intention of getting in the water after all the time she had spent preparing her long mane of curly black hair.

"It was that fish, Hales!" she sang out. "I saw it. He deliberately screwed up your landing."

Plopping down on the sand, panting after the exertion, Haley unsnapped the cloak and let it fall to one side. "I'm exhausted. My head is killing me. This flying is like doing trig in your head while riding a bicycle uphill. Movies and comics make it look so easy!"

A few feet away were two white beach towels covered with bottles of sunblock, a bag full of empty soda cans and crumpled up potato chip bags, three cell phones and an oversized pair of aviator sunglasses. Getting up on her feet, Haley lurched over there and dropped to her knees to claim the last can of Mountain Dew. "Whew. Thanks for being ready with the lifesaver, Bentley. You're the best."

"He IS. I landed a great boyfriend," Gina added. "Listen, Haley, while you were up there swooping and soaring and whatnot, I saw something on the news that might interest you."

Winging out the soaking wet cloak to let dry in the warm June sunlight, Windcatcher asked, "Like what?"

"Here, I saved it." Shading her phone's screen with one hand, said, "Let's see. Umm, there have been sightings in Danverton of a mysterious man in a purple costume. He beat up three men who were trying to rob an elderly gentlemen on North Wall Street Saturday night. Wednesday at two AM, he chased away a creep who was following a woman walking home from Rustler's Dance Club and made sure she made it to her apartment."

"That's what I should be doing!" yelped Haley. "As soon as I get a little better control, I will patrolling high crime areas late at night. Well, at least until school starts up."

"Sounds like Long Island has another super-hero," Gina said. "Listen to his description. A tall athletic man wearing a purple jumpsuit with black riding boots and a hooded mask which covered his face except around his nose and mouth. On the front of his shirt was a white silhouette of some strange animal neither witness recognized."

"Oh my God, the Chimera!" blurted Haley. "I read all about him when I was little. That was ages ago. He disappeared around the time I was born, late 1995. I couldn't get enough about him. Officially, the police made statements calling upon him to stop his unlawful vigilante crusade but, you know, somehow they never showed up until he was gone. I figured they watched from a distance and only moved in to clear up after Chimera was off the scene."

"There's more," Gina said. "Known from notes he left naming himself as the Chimera, the masked man subdued a gunman who had robbed a liquor store and left the perp tied up with his own belt and shoelaces. In the summer of 1994, he smashed up two Asian massge parlors staffed by underage Korean girls brought into the country illegally. He left the girls at the local FBI office in Manhattan and their testimony led to the arrest and conviction of the owner on human trafficking charges."

"You see why he was my hero?! I still have a scrapbook of newspaper clippings about him somewhere," Haley laughed.

"How come he never got shot?" asked Bentley.

"What?"

"Haley, I know you're nuts about super-hero comics but they've given you seriously unrealistic ideas. I don't care if you're the world's greatest master of kung fu and karate, you can't charge at armed men without getting shot. And it says he did this not once but at least five reported times." Bentley shook his head. "It smells fishy."

"Aw, your feet smell fishy," Haley scoffed. "Maybe he was very very lucky or maybe he's a former Navy SEAL or something. What I want to know is how he can still be active. That was a long time ago."

Gina said, "Hey, suppose he was in his mid-twenties back then. He'd be forty-five today. That's not ANCIENT! My dad is forty-six and he runs three miles a day in all weather. I bet my dad is stronger than any of the wrestlers at our school."

"Maybe your dad is the Chimera," offered Haley in her sweetest, most innocent voice.

"No such luck. Mom watches him like a hawk. If he tried sneaking out at night, she'd bust his eardrums with her yelling."

Haley had that familiar far-away look that warned of trouble brewing in her lime-green eyes. "So where has the Chimera been all these years? Why has he gone back into action now? What's his deal anyway?"

( the rest of the story )

"Windcatcher"

5/27/20012

I.

Seeing a gas station ahead, Bane pulled in and filled the tank, then took a minute to check his tires and get his bearings. Long Island was not his usual territory and he had been surprised to drive for an hour before reaching Glenville. It looked a little too perfect to suit him... the wide tree-lined streets, the rows of local banks and pizza parlors and antique stores, the Lutheran church with its spire on a hill overlooking the town. Somehow he felt uneasy, distrusting an area that seemed so perfect in its small town way. It was not just imagination. A lifetime in the Midnight War had sharpened his instincts. He would swear something very dangerous was close by.

Standing next to the gas pump as he screwed the cap back on his tank, Jeremy Bane seemed as out of place as he felt. In his mid-fifties at this point, with only a few grey strands in the thick black hair and some lines showing on the narrow feral face, he was still the Dire Wolf. Still dressed all in black, turtleneck and jacket and slacks, still glaring out through pale grey eyes as if looking for trouble, Bane was not someone who invited a feeling of warmth and trust. Now, he climbed behind the wheel and pulled out into the minimal traffic on Main Street, looking for the address he had been given.

It was a warm but breezy late June morning, and he had the windows down as he drove slowly. There! Partition Street. There was still time to hang a sharp left and head down that side street. The numbers of the houses were odd on the right, even on the left and he spotted 11 Partition Street as a two-story white frame house with an attached garage and a trampoline in the back yard. No one was in sight, but parked in front of the open garage door was a red Explorer. Bane pulled in behind it and got out, wondering why he felt more ill at ease here than he did in seedy waterfront bars or Times Square back alleys.

Then a young girl's voice sang out from the roof, "There he is now!" Startled and annoyed for not having spotted a watcher or possible sniper, Bane stepped hard to one side and his left hand snapped to the holster in the small of his back. Standing casually on the crest of the roof as if completely safe was a teenager. She was above average height, thin, with dark chestnut hair and bangs down over light green eyes. Her white long-sleeved pullover, snug dark blue shorts and white sneakers were not remarkable, but the full-length cloak of bright blue material was. It whipped around her as if tugged by a strong wind, even though the air was still.

As Bane stared, taken completely by surprise for one of the few times in a long career, the girl dove off the roof like a swimmer into a pool! He yelled and lunged forward, arms out in an attempt to catch her but she swerved in the air and glided around him in a wide graceful circle. The Dire Wolf watched the teen lower her legs and land lightly on the asphalt of the driveway as if she had stepped down off a curb.

"Hey there!" she said, raising a finger to one eyebrow in a mock salute. "Haley Lawson, the Windcatcher, Long Island's own super-hero. You must be the guy my mother mentioned, Wolf Man right?"

"Dire Wolf," said Bane. "Yes. Lisa Lawson left me a message to come out here. I knew she had two daughters but in my mind they were still toddlers."

The girl grinned, a slight overbite that made her pointed face appealing. Those lime green eyes jumped out beneath the dark bangs, and she knew they were a striking feature. "Yeah well, babies grow up. Come on in." She swung around, the cloak twirling around her and opened up the screen door to the house and screamed, "Mommmmm! Your friend is here!"

Completely as a loss, Bane followed her into a living room with wood-panelled walls and recliner chairs facing a huge TV. The couch had piles of clothes on it. Coming in from another room was a woman about forty, with the same auburn hair and green eyes as Haley, but thick around the middle and with faint lines at the corners of her eyes. She held out her hand and Bane shook it.

"Hello, Lisa, I drove out here as soon as I got your message."

She smiled warmly at him and then turned to her daughter. "Haley, this is Jeremy Bane. I know you're not impressed because you're too cool, but this man has fought more monsters and psychos than you could fit in our yard."

"Yeah, right, I bet you say that about all your friends," the girl answered as she shoved clothes around on the couch so she could plop down.

Lisa Lawson gave the girl a withering look that was ignored. "I wanted boys," she said as if to herself. "Here, Jeremy, have a seat. Thanks for coming. Do you want some coffee? Tea?"

"No thank you," Bane dropped into one of the recliners and smiled at Haley examining her fingernails as if life depended on it. "I haven't heard of the Heirs of Buliwyf in years. Last I knew, you were exploring some of the adjacent realms."

"Yes." She settled in the other chair and studied him. "We received those talismans by mere chance. You know, you were there. And we tried to use them well, but frankly none of us were meant to be adventurers. Charles was most suited for fighting of our family and he got tired of the stress and drama soon enough. So we mostly wandered the realms as a hobby. Once in a while, you or others called on us for help."

Bane said nothing, waiting. Lisa went on, "Honestly, none of us have even used the talismans for months or years. Sometimes it seems like it was a dream. But then this child got hold of the Air Cloak and claimed it."

"That's right," Haley said cheerfully. "You don't use it, you lose it."

Lisa Lawson sighed and went on, "Haley's father died before we were to be married.Pneumonia. It's been hard raising Haley and Lindsay by myself but I've done my best."

"Is Chuck still around? Cathy? I haven't heard anything about them in ages."

"They were both fine the last I knew. Jimmy, too. Just leading ordinary lives. Chuck manages a landscaping company and Jimmy is a trainer at a health club. He got his degree in PT. Cathy was working in an office but I don't remember what specifically she did. But they all ended up down in a ritzy area of Maryland, too far away to be handy."

The Dire wolf turned in his chair and looked Haley in the eye. "That's a powerful talisman you have appropriated. Did it bond to you?"

"Oh, sure, Mom hadn't put it on in centuries. The poor thing was ready for a friend." Haley was checking him out. "Do you have those silver daggers on you? Can I see 'em?"

"In a while. So, the Cloak can not be used by anyone else and will only answer to your will. And it's not really the cloak itself but the Melgar jewel in it that manifests gralic force. I imagine by now, you have experimented with it and found its uses?"

"Well, duh. Of course."

"Have you summoned arctic air?" Bane asked.

"Have I what?"

"The jewel in the cloak helps you fly by summoning tornado winds from somewhere in the world and placing them under you. It's a talisman that works by transporting. You can also call up air from Death Valley to hit something with a blast of 120 degree heat, or call air from the Antarctic to throw a wind at 40 below. You didn't know that?"

"No," she said in a small voice. "I use it to fly and to knock crooks down. Once I put out a brush fire by forcing all the air away from it."

Now Lisa smiled. "You see, Mr Bane here has something he can teach you. Are you ready to listen?"

Haley looked uncertain. "I guess."

"Wait," interrupted Bane. "What's this about knocking crooks down?"

She turned impatient eyes on him. "These guys held up a pharmacy in the South Wood Mall. I was there with my sister and saw them running to their car, so I hit them with a wind that threw them to the ground and pinned them up against a wall. I also broke up a fight, two guys were arguing in front of a bar on South Street and one of them had a knife, so I blew them across the parking lot before anyone could get hurt."

"Does anyone know it was you who did this?" Bane asked with anxiety in his voice.

"Absolutely. It's no secret. I call myself Windcatcher. I expect mostly to use the Cloak to do rescue work and help out in emergencies, but I'll fight crime when I get a chance."

"Stop. Hold it. Lisa, does she understand what she's saying? Does she realize the danger she is placing herself and you in?"

"Too late now," Haley interrupted. "I know what you're thinking, Mr Bane, but what kinda crooks do we have here? Shoplifters, a drunk driver on Saturday night? That robbery was the first one around here in my lifetime. I don't expect to be going up against terrorists with grenade launchers or anything."

"Nevertheless.." Bane broke off. What could he do about this? He had no authority over these two. He was not even a law officer. "I, uh... I don't think it's the best idea. Isn't that obvious?"

Haley got to her feet and stretched. "What's done is done. I am going to patrol the town and look for cats in trees that can't get down." She headed for the door, and her mother said, "Just a minute, do you have your phone?"

"Like I go anywhere without my Droid. I could use a few dollars for food."

Her mother dug in a pocket and pulled out a twenty and a five, "That's all I have on me. I know it doesn't do any good to tell you, but be careful."

"Love you. Bye, Mr Bane." Haley took a step out the door, tornado-speed winds roared around her and she hurtled up in the sky as Bane realized his mouth was open.

( the rest of the story )

"May Dusa - Threat Or Menace?"

8/4/-8/5/2012

I.

Entering the living room with her second cup of coffee that morning, Lisa Lawson regarded her seventeen year old daughter with bemused affection. Haley was curled in a ball on the couch with her legs tucked up under her, her arms folded and her head drooping so the gorgeous auburn hair hung down like a curtain to conceal her face. She was rocking half an inch from side to side.

"That is the best performance I've seen in a while," Lisa said, dropping down into an easy chair facing the couch. "Did you join the Drama Club at school?"

For a reply, Haley emitted a low quavering sigh that started down near her belly button. She raised her head. Those large lime-green eyes were her best feature and, although they were sad, no moisture indicating immediate tears was noticeable. "I went and got the mail."

"Yeah, I have the same reaction when I see the bills." Lisa Lawson did not much resemble her daughter, being four inches shorter than Haley's five feet eight and sporting glossy black hair instead of deep red. But their eyes were a family trait and almost identical. "Oh. Oh, you got the results about your driver's license."

"Yes. Busted. Failed. Flunked." Haley sat up straight and smacked her forehead with the back of her hand. "It says I failed to change lanes when turning left from a two-lane one-way street but I do NOT remember it that way."

"Ah, honey, practice and take it again. You know, Jimmy failed three times. His parallel parking is still atrocious." She put down her coffee cup. "I saw the half-finished bowl of Chocolate Rice Krispies by the sink. How about some scrambled eggs and bacon to balance your innards?"

"No, thanks, mom." Haley bounded upright with the ease of youth. She was wearing her usual Navy blue shorts and white long-sleeved pullover. "I crave action! Excitement! The thrill of fighting evil will lift my spirits."

"What on Earth have you been reading, child?"

"Comics. BLAST WOMAN is my favorite. It gets me stirred up in the mood. Did I tell you I'm meeting your friend the Wolf Man next week?"

"Jeremy Bane is called by some the Dire Wolf," Lisa repeated. "Not Wolf Man. Yes. If you insist on using the Air Gem to get into situations where you're likely to break your neck, having him train you is a good idea. Just take his advice and respect him like he's your Marine drill sergeant, he knows what he's talking about."

Haley started from the living room but hesitated in the doorway. "Mom. You're not TOO worried about me being Windcatcher, are you?"

"Of course I'm worried. What do you think?" Lisa stood up and went over to her daughter and placed a hand on each shoulder. "But God forgive me if I don't remember I was as stubborn and reckless at your age. The risks I took. Ugh, makes me shiver to think about. But somehow I trust you. You think quickly on your feet and you're barely sensible enough to draw back if the situation s seem too dangerous."

"You're the best!" Haley laughed as he rushed from the parlor to the staircase leading up to her own room. A few seconds later, her voice drifted down, "Mommmm! I'm going out the window! Back by suppertime!"

"Be careful, dear." Lisa Lawson exhaled and slumped back in her chair. Once, before Haley had been born, it had been Lisa who wore the Air Gem and wielded its power to summon everything from hurricane winds to monsoon rain to Arctic blasts. That had been long ago and, she wistfully realized, it was further faded by time every day.

In her neat tidy room, noticeably free of frills and decorations but ornamented by an acoustic guitar in its case and stacks of books covering horrific crimes, Haley clasped the collar of an ankle-length dark blue cloak around her neck. Fastened at her throat was a lovely oval-cut blue gem that resembled pale tourmaline. She checked the slit pockets in her shorts for the few items she carried as Windcatcher, then flung up the wide window as high as it would go. A warm sunny August morning beckoned to her.

Sporting the widest grin her cheeks could handle, Windcatcher squeezed up onto the ledge of the window. She concentrated with full focus of the image she wanted, drew on the ancient mystic power of the Air Gem. From somewhere in Kansas, tornado winds at two hundred and sixty miles per hour shot her out and upward into the sky.

( the rest of the story )