Chapter 11:

A Day in the Life of Any Other Nobody

Heat from the sun poured down on Nathan: warm, comforting, and enveloping him completely. He wore an easy smile, his eyes closed against the light of the zenith star. He listened to the slow cry of the birds, the cyclical crash of waves, the peels of children laughing, and realized this was the true speed of life.

Nathan’s skin had faded, not to the milky white of its former self—not yet—but he’d lost the heavy olive hue reentry had given him. Upon first arriving in Townage, he visited among the various tanning salons every day of the week, asking for the highest intensity bed and demanding the most minutes they’d allow—even visiting several salons on one particular day of worry. Yet, despite the constant light, he was still losing his color. Initially, this worried Nathan, as he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone recognized him—but nobody said anything as he returned to himself. Days passed, a fine white fluff appeared atop his head. The start of his hair was oddly bright in the noon day sun and made Nathan look much older than he actually was.

One day, as he stared at the first curls of his coif, a funny thing happened. Nathan stopped caring if people recognized him. So what if he was caught at being not dead? What was anybody going to do about it? A few days later, he realized someone would inevitably recognize him. He called his mom, and also talked to Julia about that fact. They were able to calm him. Another day or two, and he began to wonder who would be the first? Admittedly, Davies and Julia had both figured it out—but only after spending at least one night with him—which he figured wasn’t going to be a common treatment.

Speaking of Davies, his court marshal had wrapped up after a few days of haggling between the Army’s lawyers and a couple of Brion’s better men that were teamed with several more lawyers from NASA. These two opposing factions passed each other reams of paper, tons of data, and hardly any information. In the end, it took Brion and a two-star general half an hour of phone negotiations to get Davies free of all charges—though the general refused to let Davies finish his time of service. Davies argued that he was determined—even honored—to fill out the remaining year and a half, and must have argued a hard five minutes over the subject, then reluctantly agreed to leave immediately so long as he was given an honorable discharge. Good for him.

Nathan sat on a crowded beach, soaking up the sun. He laid on his back with his eye closed when a stranger’s arm caused a passing shadow. Curious, Nathan opened his eyes. It was a lady, a slender and good-looking thing, about his age. Wearing retro boy shorts, and a small top with thin straps across her back and shoulders, she moved with a mix of purpose and grace that intrigued the man, in part because it seemed familiar. About twenty feet away, she sat on a towel and stared out over the sea, occasionally turning to watch the people, birds, and a few wispy clouds that were all shifting about. Emboldened by the fact that nobody had recognized him, and also putting on his aviators, Nathan stared as she perched on her towel. He watched her for several minutes, and the more he looked at her, the more sure he was that he knew her.

It wasn’t long before the lady packed her Sebastian Sinclair novel into her bag, picked up her towel, and began shifting through the crowded beach. She stepped toward Nathan—and now he was sure he knew her.

“Excuse me. Do you have the time?” he asked as she stepped close by. He wanted to hear her voice, to see her interact, and perhaps give him something more to identify her.

She held out her bare wrists to Nathan, and simply said, “Tan lines,” as she continued to walk. The tone of voice, the attitude reinforced the idea that he indeed knew this woman.

“Didn’t ask for accuracy,” he stated. “I’d take an approximate.” It was the only thing he could think to say. It sounded aggressive. No, it was aggressive. Nathan smiled, pleased with himself.

The lady stopped in her tracks, placing a hand on her hip. She pulled down her shades and locked her grey eyes on Nathan, licked her finger and held it up to the sky, as if the direction of the wind might also impart the time. “Noon, give or take a few hours,” she said with a shrug. Still staring at him, the lady cocked her head a bit further, and squinted her eyes ever so much. “Do I know you?” she asked.

Well, it had happened. Somebody had finally recognized him—not that it wouldn’t be easy enough to deny. Marvelous was dead. Everybody said so.

But Nathan didn’t care anymore. His little ruse was wearing thin anyway. He was far more interested in a connection to this defiant, beautiful woman. “I think so,” Nathan smiled at her, “But I can’t place you…”

Her stern expression broke, and with a smile she said, “Nathan. Nathan Marvelous.”

“Mistaken identity,” he assured her, although his smile said otherwise.

“You really don’t remember me?” She asked. “Well, we only met once, and we are a little far from home,” she extended a hand as she stepped forward. “Doctor Valerie Williams of the Cityopolis Academy of Applied Sciences. I was at your mansion, telling you about that asteroid.”

He smiled, “You look good, certainly far more relaxed.”

“Florida will do that, or string you out and make you really haggard. So, everybody has it wrong, huh? You’re not nearly as dead as they all say?” she smiled.

“Not nearly,” he grinned.

“I’m glad to see that. You know, I’ve been telling myself for weeks that I don’t care what happened with that damned rock, but finding you here, literally lying in my path, I must say, I’m suddenly curious once more,” Valerie confessed.

“So you’re saying you missed the press conferences?” Nathan asked.

“No, I watched them all, and just as I suspected, they didn’t clarify a damned thing.”

“Well, It’s rather involved, and I’m not a hundred percent sure just where I should start, although you can see that the asteroid didn’t survive, even though I somehow did,” Nathan beamed.

Valerie hedged, and pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “I hate to cut things short, but I have to run. Would you be willing to meet up for coffee, maybe tell me what happened?”

“Only if you tell me what you’re doing in Miami,” Nathan smiled. “It’s a little late in the day for coffee. Any chance you’re available for dinner?”

“Tonight?” Valerie’s face changed from bothered to pleased. “Actually, I am. How about Casa Romero, say seven o’clock?”

“Casa Romero at seven, that’s assuming you can find your watch,” Nathan smiled.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” She said as she stepped away with a smile. “How are the elephants?”

“Would you believe the elephant man was now speaking to people?” Nathan called over the crowd. “Miracles never cease!”

Heads turned to wonder at the shouting man with the bleach white curls. Nathan ignored ‘em. Another shadow approached and stood right in Nathan’s sun. “Who was that?” asked the shadow.

“Just a friend. You mind moving?”

Davies stepped to the right. “That wasn’t Kelly, was it?”

“God no,” Nathan huffed. “But she is an acquaintance from back home.”

“She’s pretty. Did she recognize you?”

“Yeah.”

“Before or after you hit on her?” Davies asked.

“After,” Nathan smiled.

Davies stared after the girl. “Good thing you told her, because I’d blow our cover for a girl like that,” he noted.

“Our cover?! My cover!” Nathan corrected.

“Yeah, I’d blow your cover for sure. So she shot you down?”

“Not at all. We’re going to Casa Romero tonight.”

“Ah, good food,” Davies approved. “I suppose I shall have to find my own entertainment tonight. Maybe I’ll go see some dumb movie...”

“You’re coming with us,” Nathan said as he leaned back and smiled. He closed his eyes and let the heat of the day wash over him.

“You don’t need a wing man,” Davies replied.

“I’m not looking to start a thing here, just want to eat out with a couple friends,” Nathan stated.

“Well, if that’s the case,” Davies shrugged as he sat next to his friend. “As much as I like you, I could do with some prettier company.” He pawed at the stack of books he’d brought with him. They were all about Nathan Marvelous.

“Did you really have to bring those?”

“It’s light beach reading,” Davies defended. “It’s like historical fiction: about real people and places, but mostly made up.”

“Maybe half a step above smut,” Nathan calculated.

“Well, that might be a bit generous,” Davies considered. “Besides, who isn’t absolutely taken by this dude,” he held up a copy of Less Than Marvelous and showed Nathan an unflattering picture of himself.

Nathan hissed and slapped the book into the sand.

Since he’d arrived in Florida, Davies often showed his books to Nathan. He quoted them ad nauseum, focusing on the most outrageous charges. He showed Nathan no few pictures that were just as often not related to Nathan in any way whatsoever, despite the claims of this or that author. Davies’ favorite was a book called Less than Marvelous by Kelly Green. She knew him personally, Davies kept saying.

Initially, the attention bothered Nathan, but Davies laughed and laughed at the commentary of these tomes, which allowed Nathan to also laugh. Davies would read about the events and highlights of Nathan’s life and promptly ask inappropriate questions. Occasionally, Nathan answered the charges with whatever frivolous answer came to mind—but every once in a while, he’d tell how he remembered it, and catch not only Davies, but himself off guard.

After another hour of playing and goofing on the beach, Nathan and Davies left, so they might get ready for dinner.

That night at Casa Romero, Nathan excused himself midway through the entrees, and stepped to the bar. He felt Davies and Valerie were getting along quite well, and wanted to give them some space, so he pretended he wanted to chat up the bartender and left the two alone.

Sitting at the bar and flirting with the bartender, Nathan wondered about home. He wondered about his mother and what she was up to. He wondered about Julia, who his mother said was still at the mansion, serving as a personal chef. He wondered about the elephant man, who was no longer sleeping in the valley, but was staying in the mansion proper, and apparently had a bit of a thing going with Julia—though Anna said it was going painfully slow.

Thinking of his mother, and all his various friends, Nathan realized it was time to go home. He would not sneak in like a thief, nor would he announce himself in a grandiose manner: a hero returned from the dead. The fervor had died, and now he would simply go home and see if anyone cared to take notice.

A week later, Nathan drove his Skyline back to Cityopolis. He drove alone, because Davies wanted to stay in Townage, so he might be near Valerie. So it was that Nathan pulled up to the gate of his mansion and keyed himself in. It was a sunny day with perfect weather, and Nathan was almost disappointed that there wasn't a protester in sight.

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