Justice is Blind
by Paul Liadis
by Paul Liadis
It began the night of my retirement dinner, when in a rare lapse of judgment I accepted the Danger Phone, giving the team a direct way to contact me in case of extreme emergencies. I should have just said thanks for the watch, nice working with you, and disappeared quietly into the sunset, never to be bothered again. Instead, not two weeks off the job I found myself on my way to the Hall of Heroes in danger of missing my noon tee-time.
Ah, the Hall of Heroes. Not my ideal retirement destination. To put it bluntly, the place smells like a very fragrant bouquet of flowers at a malfunctioning sewage treatment plant. Ever since we agreed to start referring to the janitor as Power Lad, the once proud hall was in disarray. Power, even titular power, can go to one's head.
When I was still working, they called me Ocular. My entire life I have been able to see things no one else on Earth could, able to, with the naked eye, see the heat signature of any living creature and most objects long after they have departed. I am able to tell, even days after a crime, how many people were at the scene. Not only that, I have never lost a game of "Guess who cut the cheese?" It's a blessing and a curse, I guess.
As I approached the once proud Hall, I could nearly see the cartoon stink lines radiating from the building. I held my breath and strode to the door. "This better be good," I thought to myself.
Entering the Hall of Heroes, I neatly avoided stepping on an empty pizza box, but my foot found a half empty can of grape soda squirting purple goo on my new loafers. Some of the heroes were sitting on the couch, hanging their heads in shame. Rat Guy stared straight ahead in disbelief, looking like he was just discovered professional wrestling is fake.
As soon as they saw me, the heroes rushed to me like a starving man to a Chinese buffet. "Big emergency?" I asked, finally realizing why I was summoned.
"We tried our best," said Danger Lass avoiding eye contact.
"Stand aside please," I answered.
I slowly approached the couch, thrust my hand beneath the cushions, groped around for a few seconds and held my hand high in the air. A tear formed in Rat Guy's eye, slowly running down his furry cheek. Danger Lass gave me a hug. The rest stood silently in awe. I rolled my eyes and flipped the prized chunk of plastic to Bendy, who cradled it like a newborn baby. I glanced at my watch, realizing that it would take a miracle for me to make it to the country club on time. As I was about to walk through the door, I turned and said, "Next time you lose the remote, check the couch before you call." To see things, you have to be willing to look.