Nov 14

Throwing Down The Gauntlet

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How did I get myself into this mess? Sheer stupidity, that’s how.
A few weeks ago, I was walking home one night. Probably not the smartest idea, considering the part of Brooklyn I lived in. But I’m not exactly a small guy, I played football in high school, so I figured no-one would mess with me. I was safe. Of course, that didn’t stop me from getting myself into trouble.
I was three blocks from home when I heard it. The cry for help. The sounds of a struggle were coming from an alleyway. I couldn’t help myself, I had to look, my every instinct, honed as a lifetime New Yorker, screaming at me to stop.
I saw two guys, young guys, with ski masks over their faces, holding an old man at knifepoint. They hadn’t seen me yet, so I had to spring into action. I cleared the distance between us in five steps, picking up enough speed to crash-tackle both men away from their victim, sending their knives flying into the darkness. The guys freaked out and bolted, they didn’t want someone who could fight back, I guessed.
After they disappeared around the corner, I turned to the old man, who was leaning against the wall, catching his breath. As I got a decent look at him, I realised he wasn’t really that old, in his forties, fifty at the most.
“Are you ok sir?” I asked.
The man nodded. “Thanks kid. They really had my number. Good thing you came along when you did.” He said.
“It was nothing, really.” I said. “You needed help, I helped you.”
The old man smiled, as if there was a joke I wasn’t getting, before extending a hand. “Tristan O’Neill.”
I shook his hand. “Danny. Danny Chang.” I replied.
“Well Danny, could I trouble you to walk me home? It’s just two blocks over.” Tristan pointed, in the opposite direction to my house.
I nodded. “Sure, wouldn’t want those guys to come back.”
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When we got to his building, he insisted that I come up for a drink.
So we walked into his place, and it was huge, for a Brooklyn apartment. “This used to be the owner’s place. He knocked out the wall between two apartments, and rebuilt the whole interior. Bastard charges me double for it too.” Tristan explained.
“Oh, it’s a really nice place, but if you can afford a place like this, why don’t you live in Manhattan? Or upstate? Somewhere nicer?” I asked.
“Because Manhattan is where all the superheroes are. Last thing I need is to be dragged back into that. At my age.” Tristan explained.
I looked at him quizzically. “You used to be a superhero?” I asked.
“Yeah, back in the good old days. I’ll show you.” Tristan rushed out of the room, but reappeared moments later with a large chest, which he placed on the kitchen counter.
He punched in a code on the lock, and it popped open, revealing a blue-and-white costume. He lifted it out, and I could see sitting underneath were a matching blue mask, and blue, metal gloves.
“Umm… I don’t recognise that costume.” I said.
“Hmph. Kids today. I was Gauntlet.” Tristan said.
The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Obviously Tristan could see it in my face.
“I was a Boomer! On both coasts!” He insisted.
“Look, I’m only twenty one. I barely remember who is on the Boomers right now, let alone past members. I’m sorry.” I said.
Tristan smiled and shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I was the same at your age. When I found the gauntlets, I was too absorbed in my studies to keep track of what was going on in the world. I was an anthropology student. I found these gauntlets on a dig in Nevada. I didn’t understand what they were doing there, the design was like nothing I had ever seen. I still haven’t seen anything like them. I’m pretty sure they weren’t a part of the Native American burial ground we were studying.”
“Yeah, Native Americans aren’t exactly known for their metal-working.” I said.
“Exactly. But these weren’t European in nature either. It was like they were from an entirely separate culture. Completely alien. Anyway, one night on the dig, I put the gloves on. I was swallowed by this bright blue aura, and suddenly I was stronger, faster and I could fly. It took me weeks before I figured out how to control the energy. I could form it around myself, make weapons, force-fields, or just throw it at people. So I made myself a costume, and started fighting crime in Vegas.” Tristan said.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“Because you saved me. You knew you could do something, so you did. You risked your life for me, just like I risked my life for the people of Las Vegas, and eventually the whole country.” Tristan said.
“But why? I mean, you could have just thanked me and sent me on my way.” I said.
“Because I need to do one last thing for those people I was helping. I need to pass the gauntlets on to someone who is younger, someone who can continue my legacy. A real hero.”
My eyes went wide, as I realised what he was about to say. He noticed my hesitation, but still picked up the gauntlets and thrust them towards me.
“You have the chance, right now to make a difference. You can save the world. You have the heart for it, the will. Take the gauntlets. Be my last gift to the world. This is your reward for saving an old man. Take it.”
I stared down at the gloves. All that power. Could I handle it? Would I be brave enough to fight the real evils of the world? A couple of muggers were one thing. Guys like Radon and Constellation were something altogether different. Tristan had done it. The gauntlets had protected him, and he had used them in turn to protect the world. Maybe I could do the same.
“Boy, if you don’t take them, I’m locking them back in that chest. I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone else who deserves them.” Tristan said.
That was the clincher. Someone had to take them. It had to be me. I reached out and took the gauntlets.
“Good choice kid.” Tristan said. “You won’t let me down.”
I sure hoped not.


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