The white house was barely standing and it was obvious that the landlord wasn’t up to code. This was the kind of neighborhood where the hard knock cases tried to have their own version, of the American dream; a driveway of their very own, and the luxury of not hearing the neighbors running on the ceiling above their heads, or banging the bed against their wall while they were fucking. Kids were riding their bicycles on the street and for the most part it seemed like, an almost decent place to live, and those were hard to come by in Lafayette.

This was where the frightened kid had pointed him. He told him that the woman that had sold his friend the concoction, lived here, on this street and in this house. It took the kid a while to recover from the horror of seeing his buddy’s corpse, it was the way his eyes bulged out with blood vessels, that had unnerved him the most. After purging the contents of his stomach on the ground he was pretty forthcoming with information, he even promised Mister Amazing that he could get a decent blow for ten bucks while he was there. Apparently Shante was quite the entrepreneur.

Mister Amazing stood at the sidewalk before the house. Something about this whole situation didn't sit well with him and it wasn't the drugs or the sex. He likened himself a stand-up guy, but had no illusions about this town. Particularly certain areas.

But it was finding the bloated bodies of twelve-year-olds in suburban basements (even in Lafayette) that got to him the worst. If he was the one who'd found him, maybe that would have been better, but only a little. In a few years, his daughter would be twelve, with a younger brother to look out for. He cringed at the thought raising children in this city. It wasn't the drugs or the sex, no. It was predators like Shante. People who preyed on the weak or the young. Houses like this one with the facade of serenity. Baited and luring. They were children for goodness sakes!

He made a conscious effort to unclench his fists and take a deep breath before stepping up the walk.

The children playing on the street and in their front yards, staggered to a stop as one little boy, about four stopped suddenly, mouth agape, and pointed his finger to Shante's house. "Look! Look! It's Mister Amazing!" His voice was nearly hysterical with glee as he jumped up and down. The other children followed his gaze with wide eyed wonder, but they were all too stunned by his overwhelming presence to approach.

One of Mister Amazing's white gloved hands reached out and pushed the door bell. The sound was answered by the startled barking of a dog from inside the house. He waited for several moments, while the neighborhood children watched spellbound. He pushed the doorbell again, this time twice, but still there was no answer.

It was almost 6 PM, when the bus stopped at the end of Shante's street. Clementina gathered her purse and made her way down the narrow walk way. A man leered at her as she walked by and whistled, making her more than eager to reach the door.

She pressed through the oppressive July heat and headed down the street, watching the mailboxes as she went to make sure not to miss Shante's house. As she came closer, she saw a man dressed in a vivid yellow and white costume, approaching a young boy.

After one more attempt (third time's the charm) with still no answer, Mister Amazing sighed heavily and checked his watch. He looked up at his very young audience and smiled a winning, hero smile. "Hey there, sport," he said, addressing the boldest of the group, "She's not home, is she?"

The young boy, the one who had pointed out the caped hero to his friends, looked behind him quickly to confirm that Mister Amazing was indeed speaking to him. "Me?!" He walked forward hesitantly, his eyes still wide with awe. "Well, yes...sir, I mean her car is home. Ricky was s'pose to play with me today, but I haven't seen him since the bus dropped us off after school yesterday. He wasn't on the bus this morning either."

His hands were buried deep in his jeans pocket, as he shrugged his shoulders. "...and he was s'pose to give me back my Pokemon card. I just bet he got it wet and is 'fraid to face me."

So there were children in the house as well? And a no-show at school. This story continued to get progressively worse. Mister Amazing didn't let his smile falter, however. "When I see Ricky, I'll be sure to mention it to him."

Tina quickened her pace, wondering what the costumed figure was looking for. As she drew near she recognized one of the city's more famous heroes and with a sudden dread looked at the mailbox of the house he was in front of. The address confirmed her fear, it was Shante's. If Mister Amazing was on the scene there was a good chance something more than lack of gas money had been behind Shante not showing up at the shelter. Tina only hoped little Ricky was safe.

Approaching the hero, Tina politely got his attention and asked, “Can I help you with something, sir?”

Mister Amazing straightened and turned. Funny. She didn't look like the strung out druggie whore he expected. Maybe it was the hair. Or the fact that she had all of her own teeth.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said from the stoop of the house. Polite, but formal. Like he might have been selling her a vacuum cleaner. In a minute, he fully expected to get violent and he hated to have to do that in front of the children. "Are you Ricky's mother?"

Tina shook her head; her expression unsure whether to be sad or worried. "No, I'm just a friend of the family. Is Ricky all right? I'm not sure where his mother is, I was just coming to look for her."

Without waiting for an answer Tina walked rapidly past the costumed man and rang the bell. When there was no answer she pounded the door with her fist and called out, "Shante? You in there? I missed you at the shelter. Is everything okay?"

Mister Amazing watched with mirth as she reached past him and tried what he had just proven to be a fruitless effort. He already tried three times. No charm. He might have stopped her to point that out but he already knew that, too, would have been just as fruitless.

The dogs nervous barking turned into a low pitched alarm, but other than that, there was no response.

The man in yellow smirked but said nothing.

Frowning, Tina moved away from the door and to a nearby window. Finding no gap in the curtains she could see through Tina returned to Mister Amazing's side. "This isn't like her. She was supposed to drop some items off at the women's shelter but she never showed."

The implications of a hero being at Shante's finally dawned on Tina and she gave a wry laugh, "I guess you being here means she was involved in something illegal?"

"Ah," Mister Amazing let out a chuckle to match. "Well, that's yet to be determined, really."

He gave the woman a look of chagrin as a show of sympathy for her worry over her missing friend. "That is to say, ma'am, that I'm here to investigate hat possibility. Now, when did you last see Shante, Miss...?"

“Garcia and it's Mrs. not Miss.” Tina corrected absently while she thought. “It was the night before last. We both volunteer at the Haven, a woman's shelter, and she promised to bring by some stuff the women could use. It's not like her not to show when she says she will so I decided to check on her.”

Tina's forehead furrowed in worry, “I heard she was having trouble making her rent and thought maybe she was too broke for gas or the bus and might need some help. But since you're looking for her too I'm thinking it might be worse. Why are you here?”

"Well, Mrs. Garcia," Mister Amazing was peering into the window on the other side of the stoop and speaking distractedly. "I'm afraid I can't say."

He turned to give her his full attention then, and reconsidered. He spoke carefully, but candidly. "It's possible that some illegal substances were purchased from someone at this residence..."

"You mean drugs?" Tina shook her head. "I wouldn't have thought Shante the type." Tina seemed to be talking more to herself than to Mister Amazing.

"You know?" he flashed her a smile. "Why don't I check the back? Maybe they can't hear the bell. Wait right here."

Mister Amazing stepped from the stoop and moved to the side yard where he unlatched the old wooden gate and entered the back yard.

The back yard was small and overgrown with weeds. Mister Amazing's cape billowed a bit as he made his way to the back sliding glass door, stepping over some of the toys that were scattered around the back. The blinds were drawn and he couldn't see anything through them.

As soon as Mister Amazing was gone, Tina tried the doorknob. If Shante was involved with drugs it was possible she was in a lot of trouble and Tina could not bare the thought of little Ricky getting hurt. The knob turned easily in her hand and she could tell that the door wasn't locked.

Frowning Tina slowly pushed open the door. It was not a good idea to leave your door unlocked in this neighborhood and she could not imagine Shante being so careless. As the door swung open she called, "Shante? You're door was unlocked Are you here? Is everything all right?"

The dog's bark became more aggressive as she stepped into the house, and the stench of fresh urine assaulted Tina's nose. The barking was coming from an adjacent room, that she guessed to be the kitchen, but for whatever reason, the dog remained where it was and didn't come out to inspect the intruder. Once inside, Tina scanned the house, it was clean, but terribly cluttered with Ricky's toys. The theme song from Sponge Bob Squarepants drifted about the room, but the TV that it was emanating from was pixelated like someone pushed the wrong output button on the remote control.

Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?
SpongeBob SquarePants!
Absorbent and yellow and pourous is he!
SpongeBob SquarePants!
If nautical nonsense be something you wish!

"Ricky? Shante?" A chill went down Tina's back when she did not get an answer. Something was wrong here, she was sure of if. Still calling Shante's name Tina gingerly stepped around toys on her way to the kitchen.

SpongeBob SquarePants!
Then drop on the deck and flop like a fish!
SpongeBob SquarePants!
Ready?
SpongeBob SquarePants!

The upbeat music continued to bop happily around her head as she came into view of the kitchen. She could see the dog now, it was a large, black and tan doberman, and was barking savagely. His head was low and his ears back as he stood guard up against the kitchen sink. He tried to step back further, but the cabinet behind him wouldn't allow for a retreat. The table was a mess of food, mostly prepackaged snacks, and empty soda cans. As she stood there, she heard Mister Amazing knocking on the glass door.

"Shhh boy, it's ok. I'm just looking for your people." Tina said soothingly to the dog. Ready to throw up her shields should the dog attack Tina continued to murmur to him as she made her way to the glass door. Opening it she said, "Something's wrong here. The front door was unlocked and Shante knows better than to leave it that way in this neighborhood."

The dog sat down and pressed his body firmly against the kitchen cabinet as she walked by. He curled his lip into a snarl, but other than that had quieted down considerably.

Mister Amazing grunted with irony. "Unlocked, huh? Should've thought of that." He gave the dog a smile and passed by it. Then, as if an afterthought: "Better that you don't pay it any attention, I think." And he moved through the kitchen and into the living room.

Tina found him staring at the static-filled screen. "I hate this show," he mumbled. "Like rock candy for the brain." With that, he flipped off the power button and took a more serious look around.

It wasn't an uncommon sight. A house in shambles. A mess of entropy. Not in this neighborhood, anyway. Not like across town. He looked at his watch. They were probably sitting down to dinner together. Like one big happy family.

"Ricky is how old?" he asked simply when Tina came in.

"Five," Tina answered taking another look around the living room. Even suspecting her friend was in trouble Tina felt uncomfortable standing in Shante's living room with a strange man. If she was not worried about Ricky she would never have thought of entering the house without permission from the person living there.

Mister Amazing scanned the pictures in the room, searching for something. "And where did you say she worked?"

Tina shook her head, "I'm not sure where she works but we're both volunteers for The Haven women's shelter."

He lifted the phone to check for caller ID and unheard messages, but there were none. Then he turned it on to press redial, and realized that there was no dial tone.

Unsure what to do now that she was in the house, Tina watched Mister Amazing as he checked the phone. She did not know what she was expecting when she opened the door but having found the house empty she was beginning to feel guilty for intruding.

"Umm.... Maybe I should go check the bedroom." She said, making her way toward the short hallway.

He set the phone down and watched after the woman retreating tentatively down the hallway. Things certainly weren't adding up here. He scratched at the stubble on his chin and tried to remember the last time he'd shaved.

As Tina walked down the hallway and the open bathroom door, she saw two closed doors, one on her left and one on her right. She opened the one on her right first and could see that it was Ricky's room, his bed was immaculately made and everything seemed to be in it's place.

Tears welled in Tina's eyes as she stood in the doorway seeing a different little boy's bedroom; a little boy lost to past criminal activity. She had no sympathy for Shante if the woman was doing something illegal and had gotten herself into trouble but Ricky was another story. The child could not be held responsible for his mother's actions and should not have to suffer any consequences. Vowing to do what she could for him Tina pulled herself away and opened the door she assumed led to Shante's bedroom.

The first thing that Tina saw when she opened the door, was Shante lying on the full size bed. The bed was still made and looked otherwise undisturbed. The beautiful black woman, lay as still as death, and her skin seemed a shade or two lighter. She had a washcloth draped over her forehead, and several snacks laying near by, all of them untouched. There was also a glass of water on the nightstand next to her bed, but it too seemed neglected.

An involuntary cry escaped Tina's lips at the sight of her friend and she rushed to the woman's side. "Shante? Shante, wake up." She shook the woman trying to wake her. "Where's Ricky, Shante?"

Tina realized that her hurry and concern were too late. The woman's body was cool and stiff to her touch. Shante was dead and her question concerning Ricky was left unanswered.

Wanting to be sick, Tina backed away from the body. While she had been worried about her friend she had not expected to find her in the house; at least not like this. If Shante was dead, where was Ricky? All other thoughts aside, Tina began a search of the house looking in any place a five year old boy could hide. The whole time silently repeating to herself; Please don't let Ricky have seen her like that. Please let him be okay.

In a thorough but frantic search, Tina played a mean game of seek as she looked for Ricky in both of the back bedrooms. Looking under beds, in closets, behind the toy chest, in the toy chest, then onto the bathroom to check behind the shower curtain, under the sink cupboard, in the linen pantry, every place that could feasibly hold a small child was turned inside out in her efforts. Tina's heart sunk a little more as each possible hiding place she checked turned up empty. When she was certain he wasn't going to be found down this hallway, she made her way back to the main living areas half hoping Ricky was still in the house somewhere and half hoping he was not.

No phone service was strange. Mister Amazing glanced over at the plug and it was still in the jack. It was possible that the lines were cut, but for what purpose? There wasn't much sign of a struggle, though he wondered about the cleanliness of the house aside from the scattering of toys. Shante's immediate whereabouts really wasn't his primary concern, however, even if it was to Mrs. Garcia, now in the bedroom.

He went back to the kitchen for one more look around. The dog was still eyeballing him from the corner. Mister Amazing continued to ignore it and checked the table. A bottle of prescription pills? Discarded food? He checked the drawers and mail and baskets and normal drug hideaways. He even checked the fridge, oven and microwave. He didn't actually expect to find the stash itself, but at least some telltale sign: money, needles, paraphernalia, guns. Anything. Maybe a phone number or meeting place.

The dog watched him nervously as he walked around the kitchen, growling menacingly whenever he would get near the sink. Everything seemed to be normal, the food was scarce, there seemed to be more around the kitchen than left in the cupboards. There was a water spill across the counter that had made the tile slippery, but other than that, things seemed alright. As he was inspecting the water spill, the Doberman snapped and renewed his barking. His hindquarters bumped hard into the cabinet behind him and Mister Amazing heard something else, clattering under the kitchen sink.

Mister Amazing straightened with a smirk and turned to the dog. It cowered next to the cupboard. What seemed like peculiar activity for an animal of its nature, now was beginning to make sense. As long as his suspicion was true, and he thought it would be.

"Hey, there, pup," Mister Amazing said kindly as he swiped a discarded hamburger patty from the table. It was a buffet of stale, forgotten food. A very strange arrangement, which signified something he was unable to grasp just yet. Still, the food served an immediate purpose and he offered the burger to the doberman as he spoke soothingly. "It's okay there, champ. I'm here to help, okay? That's a good dog."

The dog slipped submissively to the floor as Mister Amazing began to sweet talk him. His stubbed tail attempted a feeble wag, and his menacing growl turned into a mournful whine as he looked longingly at the treat.

When it finally seemed interested enough in the meat, Mister Amazing backed off gently, coaxing the dog out from the corner and speaking to it all the while. He backed to the door, where he opened it and stood in the frame, dangling the burger. "You want the treat, don't ya? That's a good pup. Good dog."

Then, smoothly, he tossed the patty gently out the back door. It landed just a few feet away, at the bottom of the steps. "Go ahead, champ. It's all yours. Go get it."

The dog took one step and then another towards the door, his ferocious facade forgotten. After three steps though, he stopped and flat out refused to go any further, lowering himself to the floor again as he resumed his pathetic whimper. He watched longingly as Mister Amazing threw the patty out of the door, but he wasn't willing to follow it.

Mister Amazing grunted bemusedly. "Close enough, champ," he said vigorously scratching behind one furry, floppy ear. The dog seemed content, at least for now, and Mister Amazing continued to sooth and encourage.

Lavishing the dog with attention allowed him the distraction he needed to position himself between animal and sink. He gave an exaggerated sigh and sat down against the cabinet next to the one containing the sound, and said in his most concerned (if not a bit louder) voice. "You're a good dog. A real good dog. I sure wish I knew what your name was, puppy."

Mister Amazing spent a few minutes, half talking to the dog and half talking to what he presumed to be behind the cabinet door. His ministrations worked wonderfully on the dog, who was now lying with his head propped comfortably in the hero's lap, but if there was anything under the kitchen sink it had become as quiet as death.

He sighed heavily. Talking to himself wasn't exactly a new issue. In fact, it was something that he did often. But usually on purpose. And usually in the comfort of his own trailer. With a cigarette and a bottle of the liquor store's cheapest.

One hand continued to scratch at the dog's ear (the animal having taken a keen liking to him). He stared at the cabinet door in weary resignation for a long moment. Mrs. Garcia was still in the hallway, or the bedroom. Or both, as she moved through the house. It was the only sound other than the canine's happy panting. Mister Amazing drew in a deep breath and blew it out through fluttering lips.

"Okay," he said finally. To himself. To the cabinet. To the dog. "Enough's enough, right?"

One knuckle rapped three times on the closed wooden door. When there was no immediate response, he did the only thing left to do. He hooked one finger around the knob and pulled it open.

A young black boy sat huddled in a small ball towards the back of the cabinet. He was gripping a steak knife tightly in his right hand and the whites of his eyes stood out in stark contrast to the darkness. His body was trembling with fear as he returned Mister Amazing's gaze.

"Oh," was all the hero could muster at the time. It didn't seem like much. In fact, it wasn't. But it was all he had. And the five year old in the cupboard had a knife in one hand and eyes like dinner plates.

"You must be Ricky."

It took some doing, but with some patience and a bit of Mister Amazing's trademark charm, he was able to half pull, half coax the boy out of his hiding place. The doberman jumped to attention and danced excitedly about as his boy met his new masked friend. It was obvious to the vigilante that the boy was in some state of shock, but the way he was wordlessly moving his mouth, gave him hope that he would come out of his wide eyed stupor soon.

Ricky's disappearance was weighing on Tina's mind as she reentered the living room. She heard Mister Amazing talking coaxingly in the kitchen; probably trying to keep the dog calm. The living room was small and offered few places a child could hide but Tina checked them all before moving on to the kitchen. She needed to talk to Mister Amazing about Shante and figure out what they were going to do.

“Mister Amazing, I found...” Tina's voice trailed off as she entered the kitchen and spotted Ricky being held by the yellow clad hero.

“Ricky!” Tina rushed forward and gathered the child in her arms. “It's okay sweetheart, we're here to help.” Making comforting sounds, Tina rocked the child and mouthed to Mister Amazing over his head. Shante. The bedroom. Dead. Then she tilted her chin toward the other room in an indication he should check it out.

Mister Amazing made no indication that he even understood, except that he stepped past them and silently left the kitchen.

Tina then turned her full attention to the trembling child, rocking him and stroking his hair until she felt him begin to relax. When he had she gently held him away from her where she could see his face, carefully keeping the pain she felt at his plight from her face. “Ricky, honey, everything is going to be okay, sweety. Why are you so scared, huh? You have this big brave pup here to protect you. What's his name anyway?” She gave an encouraging smile to the child.

File Closed