First Offer (Minimum Wage Sidekick Book 3) Page 3

  “Beams needs to take some time to think about your offer,” said Rubberman. He gestured at the crashed Rubbermobile. “Right now, we need to move the Rubbermobile out of here and deal with the aftermath of our fight with the Three Fingers. While I appreciate your help in saving Beams’ life, I think that Beams should not rush into accepting your deal.”

  Barriers’ eyes narrowed. That flash of irritation appeared in them again, only to be replaced by his usual cordiality. “I understand. Changing your employment is always a difficult decision. I am in no hurry to get a sidekick, but if you decide you want to work for me, Beams, here is my card.”

  Barriers produced a small business card from his armor and held it out to me. I took the card and looked down at it. It read as follows:

  HOMER ‘BARRIERS’ WATSON

  THE HERO YOU DESERVE, NOT THE ONE YOU NEED

  MUNROE ACQUISITIONS, INC.

  This was followed by his address, his phone number, and his email address, plus various social media accounts. It also had an image of one of Barriers’ energy shields in the background, which gave it a kind of science fiction look, though whether that was what Barriers was going for, I didn’t know.

  I looked up at Barriers again. “Uh, thanks. I’ll let you know what my decision is as soon as I can.”

  “Oh, no need to hurry, young Beams,” said Barriers with a wink. “As I said, I am in no hurry to get a new sidekick, even though my re-debut is very soon and will require a new sidekick to make it really special. Just keep that card where you can find it and perhaps we’ll be talking more business sooner than you think.”

  “Perhaps,” said Rubberman. “Now, Beams and I need to return to my base. We’ll also need to get the Rubbermobile repaired and speak with the police about the bank robbery. You know, the usual stuff superheroes have to do after stopping a crime.”

  “Of course, of course,” said Barriers. “I need to get going myself, anyway, as I have a meeting with some of Munroe Acquisitions’ top executives to discuss the plans for my re-debut. Hopefully we will see each other again soon.”

  With that, Barriers turned around and created a series of blue energy steps up to the roof of the nearest building, which he bounded up like a deer. When he got to the roof, he disappeared from sight, leaving me and Rubberman standing in the street full of police officers and firefighters, who had arrived to deal with the smashed fire hydrant.

  I looked at Barriers’ business card again. Part of me wanted to call Barriers and accept the job right away, because the idea of getting triple pay and twenty percent royalties was almost too good to be true. The other part of me, though, hesitated, because something about Barriers wasn’t right, though what, I didn’t know.

  CHAPTER THREE

  About an hour later, Rubberman and I were back in the Elastic Cave. We had driven the Rubbermobile back to the Elastic Cave, which was kind of surprising, because I had been sure that the car would not start. Yet Rubberman managed to get the Rubbermobile started without too much trouble, although he did have to rely on Rubberband to activate the Rubbermobile’s emergency engine and help with steering, because apparently the crash had caused the steering wheel to become loose.

  Neither Rubberman nor I spoke at all on our way back to the Elastic Cave, mostly because the Rubbermobile’s engine was making weird, loud noises the whole way. It sounded kind of like a cat being shredded in a meat grinder. I had hoped that the car might drive well enough to make Rubberman forget that I’d crashed it or at least get less angry, but the loud noises made by the engine were not helping my cause. I kept looking at Rubberman as we drove and he seemed to be getting angrier and angrier with each passing minute. I worried that he would grip the steering wheel so hard that it would snap under his grip. Being that Rubberman was literally made of rubber, he was a lot stronger than he looked.

  When we got back to the Elastic Cave, Rubberman told me to go to his office while he made a few calls. He was vague about who he was calling and why, but I was too afraid of angering Rubberman further to question him. I just went up the elevator to Level One and dashed into his office without even saying hello to Adams, who tried asking me what happened, but I didn’t stop to say anything to him because I didn’t want to make Rubberman even angrier by not getting to his office in a timely manner.

  I probably only sat in his office by myself for five minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I kept expecting Rubberman to kick the door in and start ranting and raving about how much money it would cost to fix the Rubbermobile and how I would never, ever, ever be allowed to drive it again even if I became a good driver. The tiny voice in the back of my head that I always associated with my anxiety expected Rubberman to just fire me outright. I suppose that wouldn’t be too bad. After all, I could just go work for Barriers, although I still wasn’t sure what to think of that guy or how he approached the superhero business.

  I started when the office door opened and Rubberman walked in. He did not rant and rave at me. He simply walked around the desk, sat down in his chair, adjusted his seat into a more comfortable position, and then looked at me. He didn’t seem very angry, but he didn’t seem very happy, either. I couldn’t help but fidget under his stare, because I didn’t know what he was going to do or say.

  “I just finished calling my mechanic,” said Rubberman. “You know, the one who knows how to work on the Rubbermobile?”

  “You did?” I said, trying to sound interested, although I think I probably sounded guilty instead. “Did he, uh, give you an estimate for how much it would cost to fix it?”

  “He doesn’t know yet, because he first needs to come by the base and see the extent of the damage for himself,” said Rubberman. “He will come here probably tomorrow or the day after, but based on his previous repairs and on how damaged the car looks, I imagine it will cost low four figures at least to fix it. It could have been a lot higher, but the Rubbermobile is a sturdy car and can take a lot more punishment than even most sports cars.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “Right?”

  “No, it’s not good,” said Rubberman, shaking his head. “It will be out of commission for a week at least, because my mechanic will also need to repair the damage, not merely tell me about it. Depending on exactly how badly it is damaged, it might not take him too long to do, but I doubt it will take less than a week. That means we won’t be able to use it for a week, which will make it much harder to get around the city if the police call us for help.”

  “Well, we could take the bus, couldn’t we?” I said. “It’s not as fast as the Rubbermobile, true, but I’m sure the city’s bus drivers will be willing to give us a ride to wherever we need to go. Maybe they’ll even let us ride for free.”

  That was my attempt at a joke, but I don’t think it worked, because Rubberman just rolled his eyes and said, “Beams, I know you’re trying to keep things light, but this is serious. In this business, if you are too slow, people can get hurt or even die. I’ve heard more than a few stories of superheroes arriving just one second too late to save the lives of innocent people. Pretty much every superhero in this business has run into that kind of experience before and you don’t get to go through too many of them before you lose your contract and have to go find work elsewhere.”

  Great. Now I felt like a huge idiot, joking about such a serious subject. Rubberman may not have meant to make me feel stupid, but I sure felt that way anyway.

  “So … what is my punishment going to be?” I asked. “Are you going to dock my pay?”

  Rubberman folded his arms across his chest, a frown on his face. “No. Despite blatantly defying my orders and wrecking the Rubbermobile, your actions did lead to the arrest of several Three Fingers gang members, plus the recovery of thousands of dollars of cash. By and large, this mission was a success, and I don’t like punishing people who do the right thing even if only accidentally.”

  I sighed in relief. “Whew. That’s a—”

  “But the fact is that you still defied my ord
ers,” said Rubberman. “Even worse, you could have gotten yourself killed. The Rubbermobile is not an ordinary car. It is extremely fast and extremely hard to control, especially for new drivers like yourself. Probably the only reason you aren’t dead right now is because Rubberband took control of the vehicle and kept the crash from becoming too bad. Therefore, I am going to forbid you from joining me in fighting crime for a week.”

  My mouth dropped. “What? But don’t you need my help?”

  “No,” said Rubberman, shaking his head. “I handled crime and supervillains without a sidekick for three years. I think I can go another week without one.”

  I leaned forward. “You can’t be serious about this.”

  “I am,” said Rubberman. “You should still come to work, but I won’t take you out with me on crime-fighting missions. You’ll stay in the Elastic Cave with Adams, where you will train, monitor the Control System, and help him with the various chores that need to be done around the base.”

  “Come on,” I said. “This is ridiculous. Just because I damaged your car—”

  “Do you want me to increase it to two weeks in the Cave?” Rubberman cut me off. “Because I can do that, if you keep arguing with me. And keep in mind that this is the punishment I’m giving you when I’m feeling generous. If the mission hadn’t gone as well as it had, I would have given you a far harsher punishment. And I still might, if you keep arguing with me.”

  I closed my mouth. I knew that Rubberman was one hundred percent serious about his punishments. While Rubberman knew how to have fun, he could be a pretty firm disciplinarian when he needed to be. I suppose it was probably one of the reasons he was such a successful superhero. Without that level of discipline, he wouldn’t be able to do all of the things that he needed to do as a superhero.

  “Besides, I think you need to take some time off from the streets anyway,” said Rubberman. “You have been coming along pretty well in the fighting area, but the superhero business is about more than just beating up bad guys in the streets. It’s also about paperwork; doing taxes, striking licensing deals, going over contracts with lawyers, applying for a sidekick license, and so on. I think it is time you learned a thing or two about that stuff.”

  I groaned. “I hate paperwork. It’s so boring.”

  “Boring, yes, but necessary,” said Rubberman. “One of the biggest reasons why so many superheroes go out of business is because they neglect the necessary paperwork that keeps their business going. You’d be surprised at how many superheroes are in jail because they didn’t pay their taxes correctly.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I said. “But don’t you have an accountant for this?”

  “I do, but I also know how to do a lot of it myself,” said Rubberman. “It’s important for a businessman to understand all aspects of his business, even if he hires someone to do a certain task for him. It’s something I learned in my last business, before I became a superhero, and also a lesson that my mentor taught me when I was younger.”

  I nodded, but this talk about paperwork reminded me of Barriers’ business card in my pocket. I pulled out the business card and looked at it. “This is a pretty nice business card, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is,” said Rubberman in a somewhat bothered voice. “Barriers has always been very good about making sure his products and merchandise were always highly professional. I see he hasn’t lost that part of him since he retired.”

  I looked up at Rubberman. Rubberman was looking at the business card in my hands with clear disgust and annoyance on his features.

  “You don’t seem to like Barriers very much,” I said carefully. “Is it because he tried to hire me as his sidekick right in front of you? Is that a no-no in the superhero business?”

  “It’s not illegal to offer another superhero’s sidekick a better job offer,” said Rubberman with a shrug. “Sidekicks are really just employees, and like any employees, they have the right to quit or apply for work for any superhero they want. Legally, there’s nothing I could do if you decided to quit and go work for Barriers or someone else. But it is considered pretty rude to try to steal your rival’s sidekick right from under their nose like that. Usually, such business dealings are done in private.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Is that why you don’t like him? Because he was rude?”

  “No, that’s not it,” said Rubberman, shaking his head. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. Barriers and I entered the industry around the same time, so we got to know each other and would work together sometimes. I got to know him quite a bit as a result … and I wish I didn’t.”

  “Why?” I said. “He seemed pretty nice to me, if a bit pompous.”

  Rubberman picked up the rubber toy version of himself off the desk and began playing with it absentmindedly. “Barriers is exactly the sort of superhero I don’t like. Despite all his high-minded rhetoric about doing the right thing and fighting evil, he’s really only in this business for the money. He’s a Cape.”

  “He doesn’t wear a cape,” I said. “He wears armor.”

  “That’s not what that term means, Alex,” said Rubberman. “See, in the superhero business, there are roughly two different kinds of superheroes: Capes and Masks. A Cape is a superhero who is in this business primarily for monetary reasons. They focus primarily on maxing out their brand, finding new ways to license their likeness for big money, appearing in the media to milk their own brand, and other such business or celebrity aspects of the business. They still fight crime, but they don’t fight crime as much as Masks and are usually pretty poor fighters. But they’re usually very good at self-promotion and also very good at making money, so they tend to be rich despite not doing much to keep people safe.”

  “What’s a Mask, then?”

  “A Mask is the opposite. Masks get into the business because they care about fighting criminals and supervillains and protecting the innocent. They tend to spend most of their time fighting criminals, working with the police to lower crime rates in their area, and offering bodyguard services to those who can afford it, among other things. Masks still do licensing deals and media appearances, but they usually don’t do as much as Capes and are generally poorer than capes as a result, although Masks tend to have better longevity, as Capes have a tendency to sell their business as soon as they’ve milked it for all its worth.”

  “So are you a Mask or a Cape?” I asked, trying to understand Rubberman’s explanations. “Because you’re always talking about making licensing deals, but you also talk about fighting crime a lot.”

  “They aren’t absolute, binary categories,” said Rubberman, tapping the side of his head. “It’s more like a spectrum. As I said, Capes still fight crime and Masks still do business. It’s all about what you prioritize. Some might call me a Mask, but I’ve been called a Cape before, too, usually from less successful or failed superheroes who think that labeling someone instantly makes them morally superior to that person.” He shrugged. “Can’t please everyone, so I don’t even try.”

  “But you called Barriers a Cape,” I said. “Aren’t you doing the same thing as those people who label you a Cape?”

  “It’s different because I actually know Barriers—or his real identity, Homer Watson—on a personal level, rather than just looking at his carefully managed public interest and making wrong conclusions based on that,” said Rubberman. “Barriers is the worst example of a Cape, the stereotype that most Capes try to avoid. He’s lazy, selfish, and looks out only for himself. He’ll talk a big game and use high-minded rhetoric, but in truth he’s one of the most ruthless businessmen I’ve known, and that’s saying something, because I’ve known loads of ruthless businessmen in my adult life.”

  “What do you mean? How is he lazy?”

  “The fact that he tried to poach you from me from under my nose,” said Rubberman. “He tried the exact same thing when Fro-Zen was my sidekick and was a rising star in the superhero community. See, Barriers doesn’t believe in actually working for
something like, say, a good sidekick. He prefers instead to wait for someone else to do all the hard work of developing a sidekick and then offer that sidekick a better deal than what they got from their original employer. He’s never successfully developed a sidekick of his own before, though he’s very good at exploiting the popularity of already existing sidekicks to line his own pocket.”

  “Are sidekicks that big a deal?” I said in surprise. “It never occurred to me that another superhero might try to poach me from you to avoid all the hard work of developing me themselves.”

  “Sidekicks can be a headache, but they can also open up more revenue streams that you otherwise wouldn’t have gotten,” said Rubberman. He bent over in his chair and lifted up a t-shirt from behind his desk. “Like this t-shirt, for example.”

  The t-shirt Rubberman showed me was one that I’d seen earlier that day. It was completely black and had a comic book style image of me and Rubberman standing back to back, like we were fighting some unseen criminals. Under the picture was our names, Rubberman & Beams, with the obligatory trademark symbols, of course.

  “In fact, it’s thanks to the licensing deals I’ve struck with companies that this year is going to be one of my best years yet, revenue-wise,” said Rubberman. He lowered the shirt onto his lap and sighed. “Of course, I’m also going to have to pay more taxes, but that’s the price you have to pay for success in this country, I suppose. But there are certain tax exemptions superheroes can get if they have sidekicks, so I am hoping that my accountant will let me know if I will be able to take them or not.”

  “So Barriers wants me to work for him because he thinks I’ll make him a lot of money,” I said. “Without any work on his part, of course.”

  “That’s probably it,” said Rubberman. “Like I said, Barriers hates doing any sort of work himself. He believes in doing less work for more money. That’s not exactly a bad business philosophy to have, but most of the superheroes who claim to subscribe to that philosophy, in my experience, tend to be pretty lazy and dishonest in their dealings. I usually avoid them.”