Curtis was huddled in an alley trying to stay out of the freezing wind. He was just a boy, barely fourteen, and small for his age. His lack of a decent meal in over four months didn't help his growth any. All of his worldly goods were on his back, layered in tattered t-shirts, one black hoodie and several sweatshirts. They did little to hide his scrawniness. His boots were one size too small but they kept his feet dry and for now, they had no holes. Curtis thought it fortunate to have found an old pair of gloves that someone had tossed out into the garbage, he assumed because one edge had been frayed. If he had had a needle and thread, Curtis would have mended the gloves. He learned how to sew by watching one of his foster mothers. Curtis, a victim of an antiquated child welfare system, had run away from his latest abusive foster parents. They never bothered to file a police report.

The gloves kept his hands from freezing, frayed edge and all.

For the past two months, Curtis' only companion had been a small cat that he found in another alley, not much different than the one he was hiding in. They would share the meals that they scrounged and then they shared body heat whenever they could. Until, the cat got sick.

Curtis remembered seeing a vet's office one day as he was walking on Liberty Avenue. In the alley was the service entrance. Curtis packed the cat up in a box and left his precious bundle by the service entrance in hopes that the vet would find the cat and take pity on it. The vet did. But Curtis felt obliged to pay and in the only way he knew how. Making use of an old rusting pocket knife, a legacy from his beloved grandfather, Curtis got the money he needed by stealing. He hated doing it; he was taught to live by the 'golden rule,' but Curtis thought he had no other choice. He had to get his cat, his only friend in the world, all better.

"God damn, fucking snow," Brian cursed as he cut down a side street near the clinic, in a rush to see Hunter at the Jason Kemp Clinic. Hunter wanted some advice and whenever he didn't know who to turn to, Hunter would turn to Brian. "I will be eternally grateful when this fucking winter is over," Brian muttered to himself as he paused to re-wrap his scarf around his neck. The wind threatened to take his scarf flying away.

Thinking the well-to-do businessman he had just spotted would be an easy target, Curtis stepped out from his hiding place, knife in his hand.

"Your wallet!" Curtis shouted against the wind.

"What?" Brian shouted back, startled. He thought he could take the small kid, but the knife made him think out his options.

"Your wallet," Curtis repeated.

"Listen, kid, I'll give you my money, but you're not getting my wallet," Brian said quietly as he put his briefcase down to pull his wallet out of his coat pocket.

"Are you shitting me?" Curtis asked, trying to be tough. "I-I have a knife and I'll cut you."

"If you were going to cut me, you would have done it already. So why don't you take the money and your little knife and run along," Brian said as he handed the kid the money. He was tempted to throw the money at the kid but he didn't want to antagonize him any further than he had.

"You crazy, man!" Curtis shouted as he reached for the money, slipping on the ice. As he reached out to catch his balance, his knife hand grazed Brian's wrist.

"Fuck!" Brian shouted, not cut, but it was close. He held his arm close to his body.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Curtis shouted as he ran away. "I'm sorry!"

"Brian! BRIAN!" Hunter yelled from up the road. He had heard the shouts but thought it was the wind howling. It had been howling for most of the day.

"Brian, are you okay?" Hunter asked as he sprinted to the older man then grabbed the briefcase and ushered Brian into the clinic.

"What happened?" Nick asked as he saw Hunter bring Brian inside.

"I'm not sure. Brian, are you hurt?" Hunter asked.

"Only my pride," Brian snarked. Hunter and Nick glared at Brian and he sighed. "I got mugged," Brian mumbled dejectedly. "Some snot nosed little bugger took my money at knifepoint."

"Knifepoint!" Hunter exclaimed. "I'm calling the cops." Hunter picked up the phone as Nick took Brian's gloves and coat and began performing a cursory exam.

"I'm fine," Brian grumbled, batting away Dr. Nick's hands. "And the cops won't give a shit what happens down here."

"They'll be here," Hunter assured him.

"How can you be so sure?" Brian asked.

"The cops love me," Hunter said smugly. Brian arched a brow. "Look, the clinic cleaned up this part of the city."

"You mean, you cleaned up this part of the city, oh Master of Social Work," Brian uttered proudly.

"Whatever. The cops will want a statement. There's been a rash of muggings lately. No one's safe," Hunter said, hoping it wasn't any of his kids involved.

"Brian, let me see your hand," Nick donned a pair of gloves to examine the reddening welt that was forming where the knife grazed Brian's skin. "The skin's not broken but I don't want to take any chances. When was your last tetanus shot?"

"Not sure. Maybe when we built the treehouse for Gus."

"When was that?" Nick asked as he went for his bag that was in a locked cabinet.

"Over ten years ago," Brian answered.

"Then I'm giving you a shot."

"Want me to drop my pants?" Brian sneered.

"Only if you want me to inject you," Hunter replied with a leer.

"Cut it out, both of you," Nick said with a smirk. "You, roll up your sleeve," Nick said as he looked at Brian. "And you, go let the cops in. I think someone's at the door."

Brian and Hunter obeyed.

 

>>>>>>>>>


 

"Is there anything else, you can think of Mr. Kinney?" one of the officers asked.

"No, he just kept saying he was sorry like he really regretted having to take my money."

"I can't believe you just didn't turn over the wallet," the older of the two policemen stated. "Must be expensive," the officer muttered, sizing up Brian's designer suit and overcoat.

Brian took out his wallet then opened it. His wallet was stuffed with pictures of Justin, Bree, Gus, Patrick, the whole family including Hunter.

"I don't give a shit about the money, but some of these can't be replaced," Brian said fondly as he perused some of the photos.

"Well, if we get any leads we'll call you. Thank you for such a complete description of the kid's clothes. No wonder each victim described a different guy."

"If there's one thing Brian knows, its clothes," Hunter quipped. "Thanks, guys, for coming over. I'm sure this kid is NOT one of my kids," Hunter said emphatically then showed the cops out.

"Brian, you driving home? Your arm may sting for a while," Nick asked.

"No, I'm meeting Justin at the diner. He's over at Debbie's right now talking to Lacy." Brian began putting on his coat. His chat with Hunter could wait for another day.

"What about? Or is it a state secret?" Hunter asked.

"No secret but keep it under your hat until it's official. Justin wants Lacy to be the new artistic talent behind Rage. I think it's a great idea. Even Mikey's willing to give it a try. The hard part will be convincing Lacy that she's good enough." Hunter nodded in agreement. Lacy still lacked confidence.

"Come on, Big Guy, I'll walk over to the diner with you," Hunter suggested.

"I'll go with you," Nick added. The three bundled up against the cold, locked up then headed for the diner.

 

>>>>>>>>>

 

"But Lacy…"

"No, Justin, absolutely not!"

"Why? This is ridiculous. I know you can do it."

Lacy let out a long sigh and collected her thoughts before she answered. She knew this idea was just wrong. It couldn't happen, not in the world in which she lived.

"I'm still an art student. I won't graduate for a couple more years … that's if I graduate at all."

"You'll graduate. I have no doubt of it," Justin said confidently.

"Have you been checking up on me again?"

"It's my duty and … privilege to make sure everything's going well for you at PIFA."

"And what would you do if I was flunking out?" Lacy asked acidly.

Justin started at the comment. "You're not flunking out, are you?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"No, not even close," Lacy smiled. Maybe Justin didn't know as much about what she was doing as he thought he did.

"Then, if you're doing well at school, why not take this on? It's not a huge amount of work. We only put out a couple of issues a year … less if we aren't inspired."

"Rage is very important to a lot of gay people. I wouldn't want to ruin that for them."

"You wouldn't ruin it. You would breathe new life into it."

"Why do you say that?" Lacy asked with a frown.

"I never wanted to draw Rage. It started as a drunken joke, and it … grew."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Michael and I have always had a rather tenuous relationship. We don't get along all that well most of the time," Justin admitted. "We've come to a sort of understanding over the years," he added quickly, when he saw the look on Lacy's face.

"Is he that hard to work with?" Lacy asked with a worried look.

'Shit!' Justin thought. 'Now I've scared her off with my comments about Michael.' He drew in a breath and started again. "Michael's fine. It's just that I kind of came between him and Brian. He's never really forgiven me for that. That has nothing to do with you, so you'll be fine working with him. Really, you will."

"Methinks, you protest too much," Lacy said with a wry grin.

"I really want you to do this," Justin said sincerely.

"But, Rage is your story, you and Brian and Michael. Where do I fit into all that? What can I contribute?"

"You're a good artist, Lacy. Your drawings are so much like the way I draw Rage that I don't think the readers will necessarily notice a change."

Lacy smiled. "I draw like that because you helped me develop that style."

"I may have helped you refine your drawing skills, but you already drew like me in a lot of ways."

"Really? Did I?" Lacy asked with a smile on her face. She had always thought Justin had caused her to draw as she did. Maybe some of it actually came from her, from her own talent.

"You have talent, and you're learning more all the time. It all comes from you," Justin tried to reassure her.

Lacy frowned. She wanted to believe that she was a good artist, but there was always that little seed of fear that someday one of her professors or someone else would find out that she really was just a fraud, that she had no talent at all, that she was just a street kid pretending to be something she wasn't.

"I don't think I can do it. I wouldn't know what to draw," she said sadly.

"Sure you would," Justin said trying to be positive. "Michael and I have the next issue pretty well worked out. I brought some of my preliminary drawings for you to look at. We'll get you to work from what I've already done for this first issue. It will be interesting to see if the readers even notice that there are any variations in the artwork."

"I'm sure they'll notice," Lacy said in her most self-deprecating voice. "They'll probably be screaming at you immediately after Rage is published."

"I doubt that very much," Justin replied. He quickly added, "And then I was thinking that the next issue which will be all yours could be about homeless street kids. You have lots of experience with that." Justin smiled at her.

"Sure, if we include a girl pretending to be a gay male hustler," she said, crinkling up her face at the memory of what she had been.

"Well, the gay part's true," Justin reminded her. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, that could be a great idea. Maybe we should include that. We could make her a new superhero. In this day and age we should have a female hero to complement Rage and Zephyr."

Lacy's eyes opened wide in disbelief. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No, I'm serious. It could be really great. She could develop a superpower after someone attacks her on the streets. We could make her androgynous for a while, like you used to be. Once the readers get to like her, we'll reveal that she's a girl. Oh, this is wonderful."

Lacy could see that Justin was truly sincere in his enthusiasm. It made her feel kind of weird.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked, noting the look on Lacy's face.

"I … I'm not sure I want my life out there for people to read about … and criticize … or feel sorry for me."

"They don't have to know it's true."

"They don't?"

"JT is basically my story, but they only know what I want them to know about it."

"Oh, I thought it was all true."

"Most of it is."

"Care to tell me what's not accurate?" Lacy asked with a mischievous grin.

"If I wanted that to be public knowledge I would have written the comics differently."

"I see," Lacy said thoughtfully. "What do you think this new female superhero might be called?"

Justin smiled. This was a promising development. At least Lacy was showing some positive interest in the project. "It should be something related to you, if we're going to base the character on you."

"Not Lacy," Lacy said quickly. "It has to be something different."

"Sure, okay," Justin agreed quickly. "We can make it anything you want."

"So how did you come up with the other names?"

"We based them on the person's name or some characteristic that they have."

"Brian is full of Rage?" Lacy asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Justin laughed. "I'll tell him you said that. Sometimes, he is though," Justin said softly. "Full of rage, I mean. When things don't go his way, or he sees injustice or innocent people being hurt, he gets very angry. He can be scary when he's really angry."

"He's scary all the time," Lacy chimed in. Brian always seemed so perfect, so handsome, so rich. He scared the shit out of her most of the time.

"I'll tell him you said that too," Justin chuckled. "The day we came up with Rage's name, Brian was on his treadmill while Michael and I were working on the ideas for the comic. Brian had his headphones on listening to music while he ran. The headphones stopped working for some reason. He tried to get them to work, but they wouldn't, so he yanked them off and threw them and the recorder across the loft."

"And Rage was born," Lacy supplied.

"Yep, that was where the name came from."

"But how does that help with a name for … this female superhero?" Lacy asked. She had almost said "for me", but she had to keep this character separate from herself.

"Let's see," Justin mused. "The name should probably resemble you in some way. Lacy is kind of like material or fabric, you know, like lace."

"Oh, so then the superhero would be called cotton or polyester?" Lacy joked.

"Not exactly," Justin laughed. "But Polly-Esther is a possibility." Justin wrote the word down on one of the drawings they had been looking at.

"Hmm, I'm not sure I like that," Lacy said slowly.

"It was just a suggestion. It's not carved in stone. It doesn't even have to be related to fabric," Justin assured her.

"I kind of like the idea of a fabric, but it should be something better than polyester, like … Silk." Lacy smiled and her eyes glowed at the thought.

"I like Silk too, but I have a feeling it's already been done. We need something … unique."

"Burlap?" Lacy said with that wry smile.

Justin chuckled. "Maybe, that's definitely unique."

"No!"

"I was kidding," Justin replied with a grin.

"This is hard." Lacy's brow furrowed in deep thought.

"I never said it would be easy."

Lacy sighed. "What are some other fabrics?" She wrinkled her brow trying to think of other possibilities.

Justin wracked his brain trying to come up with something. He had a feeling that he almost had Lacy's consent and cooperation to do the comic. To seal the deal, he needed a name for this new female superhero, and not just any name, a great name.

"Let's see," Justin said, "Chino, denim, wool."

Lacy shook her head. "I don't like any of those. It should be something like silk, soft but strong."

"Taffeta, chiffon."

"That's better. "I kind of like Chiffon, but it's not a very strong material."

"Isn't there something called sateen?" Justin asked.

"Yes, I think so," Lacy replied. Justin could see the wheels turning. "How about Sateeena with three e's?" Lacy said, writing the word down on the edge of Justin's drawing.

"Hey, I like that," Justin agreed. "It's smooth sounding, and sleek, but potentially very hard to deal with."

"Like me?" Lacy asked.

"You're not hard to deal with. You need more confidence in yourself is all."

"I try to have confidence, but I don't always feel very confident," Lacy admitted.

"You're doing better than you used to. I really think you'll be great with the Rage comic, Lacy. Will you do it?"

Lacy hesitated for a second or two then she extended her hand to Justin. "I want to talk to Michael and set some ground rules for working together, but otherwise I'm in."

Justin smiled and shook her outstretched hand. "Terrific, and you sounded just like Sateeena when you said that."

Lacy couldn't stop smiling.