Super (Book 2): Super Duper Read Online Free Page A

said “Sure. Let’s see
what the problem is. Let me get my tools and I’ll be right up.”
I grabbed my hand-me-down toolbox and followed
him up two flights of stairs to his apartment. 3A looked a lot
like my apartment. It had the same set up. But it was obviously
inhabited by someone who did dishes and laundry. I stood
in the doorway for a moment looking at his comfy worn in
furniture and the collection of art and family pictures on the
walls. Oh, so this is what it would look like if I was an actual person.
“Ahem.” Mike cleared his throat and pointed to the
kitchen. “I believe what you’re looking for is over there.”
“Oh, yeah, the disposal.” I lugged my toolbox over to
the sink “So what seems to be the problem?”
“Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t,” he
deadpanned.
“Right.” I flipped the switch on the garbage disposal.
Nothing. “How long has it been doing this?”
“A couple of weeks, I guess. I’m not home much. I
work a lot.”
I pulled out some tool I couldn’t have named for a
million dollars and stuck it in the disposal. As I was poking it
around, I made conversation with Mike to distract him from
the terrible job I was doing. “What do you do that keeps you
away from home so much, Mike?”
“I’m on the police force. The 68th district. I’ve been
getting a lot of overtime.”
“A cop?”
“A detective, actually.” He paused. “Hey, I don’t want
to tell you how to do your job but maybe you want to check
the motor.”
I stared at him blankly.
He spoke a little more slowly, as if he thought it might
help me understand. “Maybe the motor’s going and that’s
why it will turn on sometimes and not others.”
“Yeah. . . that’s a good idea. But I don’t know if I have
the tools necessary to take apart this counter.”
Mike gave me a funny look. “It’s in the cabinet under
the sink.”
“Oh yeah. Exactly. That’s, um, exactly what I was
doing.” I got down on knees and opened the cabinet. Then,
I started banging on what I assumed was the motor with my
unidentifiable tool. “How long have you been a cop?” I yelled
from under the counter.
“A detective,” he corrected me again. “I’ve been on the
force for five years. I’ve been a detective for almost three.”
I stood up and flipped the disposal switch. Nothing
happened. I put my tool in the disposal and banged it around
inside the hole. Nothing happened.
I keep chattering nervously with Mike as I banged
some more with my right hand and flipped the switch with my
left hand. “And how lonARRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”
I screamed when the disposal roared to life, mangling my
hand in the process.
The scream was involuntary. It didn’t matter that I
knew I’d be good as new in a few minutes. It hurt like hell! In
the time it took for Mike to run over and turn off the disposal,
I yanked my hand from the sink and put started running cold
water over it.
He was clearly freaked out. “Are you OK? I don’t think
water is going to do it. You might need to go to the hospital.”
“Oh no,” I said, maneuvering my body so that it
blocked him from seeing what I was doing. “No, it just nicked
me. It’s basically a paper cut.” I was lying. From my view, I
could see that my hand looked like hamburger meat. It was
bloody and misshapen.
Doubt was all in Mike’s voice. “You didn’t hurt
yourself? You screamed and everything.”
“Oh that was more being surprised than anything. I
promise you, I’m fine.” Or I will be in a couple of minutes , I
thought. I could already see the flesh on my hand regenerating.
I just had to keep him from seeing it. I needed to distract him.
“Are you single?” I blurted out the first thing that came to
mind.
“What?” He was clearly confused by stalling.
“Are you single?” I repeated.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah? Sounds more like a question than a statement.
You don’t know if you’re single?”
Suddenly, his voice was right