Saving The World

Saving the World

“Saviour Ltd. How may I help you?”

“How much do you charge for personal appearances?”

“I’m afraid Saviour is not available for private functions.”

“My son’s classmate said Public Hero came to his birthday.”

“Public Hero is not affiliated with Saviour, so I’m not able to comment on his engagement policy.”

“But I thought if we could get Saviour at our party…”

“I’m afraid Saviour is not available for private functions. I’m sorry not to be able to help.”

“Well, I think you’ll be sorrier when I tell all the parents at my son’s school that Saviour doesn’t care about local kids.”

“But that’s not –“

Danielle sighed heavily as she realised she was talking to dead air. Her mobile buzzed and she unlocked it to see a text message from her boss – COMING IN HOT.

Putting the phone call from her mind, Danielle immediately moved to the kitchen area of the office and put the kettle on. She checked the freezer for ice packs and pulled the first aid kit down from the cupboard over the sink.

A couple of minutes later, she heard the familiar rumble of a motorcycle approaching, and was ready by the door with a steaming mug of tea when Saviour walked in. His normally pristine white motorcycle leathers were scuffed and muddy. The bright yellow lightning flashes that ran down both sleeves were marred by rips and stains, and it smelled as though he’d been thrown into a rubbish skip. The faceplate of his white helmet, clutched under one arm, was cracked. He struggled to remove a bulky glove, and took the mug from her with a weary smile.

“Dani, you’re an angel,” he said, limping over to the sofa and sitting down carefully.

“How badly are you hurt?” Danielle asked, reaching for the first aid kit.

He waved her off. “Just some ice for my ankle, and I’m good. The nun-chucks will need cleaning, though.”

Danielle couldn’t suppress a grimace of distaste. Cleaning Saviour’s nun-chucks was one of her least favourite duties. It was so difficult to get blood out of all the chain links.

Saviour smiled ruefully. “I did warn you the hero business wasn’t glamorous.”

He turned his attention to taking his boots off, and it was his turn to grimace, presumably in pain. Danielle crossed to the freezer and grabbed an ice pack.

“Did you know Public Hero is doing children’s parties?” she asked.

Saviour burst out laughing. “Really? Wow – he must be desperate!”

Danielle handed him the ice pack, and he laid it over his left ankle with obvious relief.

“That’s as may be,” she said, “but it’s apparently making you look bad.”

He sighed. “While he’s glad-handing and posing for photos, I’m actually out on the streets, making a difference. I don’t do this for public adulation – you know that.”

Danielle looked around the small room, with the damp patch over the radiator and the paint peeling off the walls, and figured it was just as well. She didn’t say that, though. Instead, she held out one hand.

“Jacket off, please. You’re smearing who-knows-what all over the upholstery. I’ll have to see what I can do about getting the stains out and sewing up the worst of the rips. Why is it that you have to wear white again?”

Saviour just grinned at her as he shrugged out of the garment and handed it to her.

“What would I ever do without you?” he asked, sinking back against the sofa cushions.

Danielle thought back to the job advert she’d answered two years before:

“Help make the world a safer place. Requirements: good telephone manner, computer literate, competent seamstress, advanced first aid certificate.”

She’d had no idea what she was letting herself in for, but she’d never regretted applying. She smiled fondly down at her boss, who was now snoring, then turned to the next job on her list.

Saving the world – one chore at a time.

THE END