All My Friends Are Superheroes by Andrew Kaufman Read Free Book Online Page B

(perfectly). The white walls of the gallery were bare – they couldn’t find any art. The room held nothing but superheroes. At 9:15 they were ready to leave. The Amphibian caught them on their way out the door.
    ‘Fantastic, isn’t it?’ asked the Amphibian. He held a large glass of wine in his hand. Stains on the rim showed it’d been filled several times.
    Tom rolled his eyes. The Perfectionist crossed her arms.
    ‘About as expected,’ she said.
    ‘You didn’t go into the back room, did you?’ the Amphibian asked.
    ‘There’s a back room?’ asked Tom.
    ‘Follow me,’ the Amphibian said. He pushed through the superheroes. Tom and the Perfectionist followed.
    At the far end of the room was a tiny door. The Amphibian got on his hands and knees. He crawled through the door.
    ‘I don’t want to get my pants dirty,’ said Tom.
    ‘I’ve got to see this,’ said the Perfectionist. She crawled through the tiny door. Tom followed her (and looked up her skirt).
    The room on the other side was bigger than the one they’d just left. A mirror covered the far wall completely. It looked like a regular mirror. Tom, the Perfectionist and the Amphibian stood in front of it. Their reflections weren’t distorted in any way.
    Tom rolled his eyes. The Perfectionist crossed her arms. They were both disappointed, a sentiment Tom was about to express when his reflection leapt out of the mirror and started running towards him. The Perfectionist’s reflection jumped out of the mirror and started running towards her. So did the Amphibian’s.
    With his reflection running towards him, Tom didn’t know what to do. He raised his fists. His reflection raised its fists. They sized each other up. They circled around each other.
    Tom found an opening. He jabbed with a right, which his reflection blocked with a left. His reflection threw aright hook, which Tom blocked with his left arm. In his peripheral vision Tom saw the Perfectionist fighting the same fight.
    Tom’s arms began to ache. His knuckles were bleeding. Bruises were forming on his forearms. He couldn’t keep this up much longer, and his reflection showed no signs of tiring.
    ‘What are you guys doing?’ yelled the Amphibian.
    The Amphibian’s voice surprised Tom. Tom hadn’t been this surprised by the Amphibian since the day he’d taken him to see the Salzburg Chamber Orchestra perform Mozart’s Serenades Nos. 3 and 4.
    Tom had wanted the Amphibian to see everything. The Amphibian had never been to a classical music concert before. They were the third and fourth in their seats. A halfhour later the orchestra came out. Some of the musicians played scales. Others simply tuned their instruments. Some played the same three or four bars over and over again. The musicians finished tuning and the house lights dimmed. The conductor walked into view.
    The Amphibian stood up. His clapping was frantic.
    ‘That was fantastic!’ he screamed. The rest of the evening just disappointed him.
    Just like his friends were disappointing him now.
    ‘What are you doing?’ the Amphibian repeated. His voice was filled with disbelief. It made Tom and the Perfectionist stop. When they stopped, their reflections stopped. All four turned and looked at the Amphibian, whowas sitting on the floor across from his reflection. The two Amphibians were sharing the same glass of wine. They both looked annoyed.
    ‘These are friends of yours?’ asked the Amphibian on the right.
    ‘Two of the best I have,’ answered the Amphibian on the left. They rolled their eyes and continued their conversation.
    The airhostess comes around and collects Tom’s headphones. Tom hands them over. He turns towards the Perfectionist, leans in close.
    ‘I know you’re fighting yourself,’ Tom says. ‘I know you want to see me.’ But the Perfectionist keeps staring out the window of the airplane.

FIFTEEN

TENSE
    The Perfectionist continues smelling Tom. It’s his post-exercise smell. She looks at her watch.