Chương 18: Hippies and Heists

There were four things you can count on cities to be and that's dirty, smelly, noisy, and filled with crime. My little corner of it in Lawndale wasn't feeling so safe to be around anymore. The bigwigs at the Super Protection Agency had their eye on it like Sauron on Frodo, and people were going to take note at some point that a Sock Girl kept running around, saving people like it was a problem. So things needed a change up. I could go to different places, put on a Batman voice, don a multitude of socks.

Make sure people couldn't identify me. But an upgrade in transport was necessary, so I did the unthinkable and talked to my neighbors. Two were down for a dog walker, one needed someone to watch their kid every now and then, and many were fans of cheap apartment cleaning services. The canines gave me an arm workout every morning from constantly pulling them back from fights with passing dogs. The nine year old kid asked non-stop questions for three hours, especially about my infamy as a non-super.

The cleaning was more like an archeological dig that required shoveling just to get to the bottom layers. But at the end of the week, I was seventy bucks richer and could afford a metro pass. I may have walked down the steps of the subway like Jeff Bezos himself, swinging my pass card through the reader like it was made of gold. Put some pixelated sunglasses on me 'cause I was a baller. Might need to ask the person sitting next to me for some Grey Poupon.

My hair was tucked neatly away under a shoulder length purple wig bought from Goodwill. Thank you for that, non-Halloween season. A black jean jacket and pants, red sock mask in my pocket, weapons waiting in my backpack- I was ready for action. Everything went smoothly on the subway. Some teenage kids heckled another group, there was the obligatory crazy man shouting to himself, and the smell of thoroughly used shoes permeated every surface. Still, it was definitely a step up from the Pedestrian Club.

I got off at Lake Red Line station and walked a few blocks to Millenium Park. Back in 6th grade, we took a field trip here to take pictures at the giant metallic jellybean known as Cloud Gate and then down to the Field Museum. That was the only time I've been downtown. There were almost more people than there was space to fit them; everything crammed and yet the skyscrapers looming over you, making you feel insignificant. This must be how ants felt.

I people watched for a bit, sitting on concrete stairs with the sound of car horns and passing radios providing background music. The sun for once had decided to shine. One warm day in a sea of cold but the hibernating Chicagoans were ready to soak it up. The boys were out playing football, the girls were wearing as short of skirts as they could bear, and everyone wanted to pretend that winter was a thing of the past. March will let them know they're wrong.

A man walked in and out under the shiny metal sculpture, scratching his head and guffawing like it was advanced technology gifted to us by aliens. A mom took selfies while her kids ran amok. Tourists out themselves with their heavy jackets and snow hats. Eventually I took notice of a band playing on the grass. The girl in front wore a flower crown on top of her dreadlocked hair the color of peanut butter, rings pierced all along her ear, and a vaguely tribal skirt and tank top hung loosely on her.

She was part of a whole group that looked like they probably only eat food if it's fallen from a tree so as to not commit murder. They were playing flutes, drums, triangles, and she was dancing to the music. The tourists liked them and every now and then, they came up to ask for pictures with her. She held up two fingers in a peace symbol while they snapped a photo, smiling serenely, then bowed her head with a namaste gesture to say goodbye.

They had a guitar case open in case people wanted to throw some tips their way, but it was only a quarter full. For some strange reason, people don't like Peruvian flute versions of pop music. It took a few times to see it. There had to be over two hundred people milling around the area and they're constantly bumping into each other.

But one eventually came up to Princess Whole Foods - they didn't take a picture together, it wasn't a meet and greet- something was exchanged covertly between them and the dancing girl handed it off to a bongo player. I watched the girl who came up to them. She stayed in the crowd and it was hard to keep track of her. She had a black baseball cap slung low over her face, dark blue shirt and jogging pants, everything without any identifying symbols or brands.

Often she was just standing at the sculpture, taking pictures, walking around to find a new place, then taking more pictures. You'd miss it if you weren't staring. Every time she walked, she was knocking shoulders with someone, sometimes almost falling and she had to steady herself. She would beg pardon profusely for having bothered them and the person moved on, not thinking anything of it. I might not have been able to see it before I got my powers. She was very quick.

As soon as she bumped into the person, her hand dipped into their pocket and there was only a flash of color before she'd tucked their wallet into her own jacket. It was her respectful, sincere apology after that set their mind at ease and they walked away commenting on how nice a girl she was. And the granola group were in on it. Probably saving up for a commune where they'd eventually kill each other with Kool-Aid.

So I set my backpack on the ground and made my way to the maddening crowd, following after Kleptomaniac. You could tell from her stare who her next victim will be. She targeted the tourists because they'd have cash on hand and less confidence in being able to report to the police. Her body was edging toward a Chinese middle-aged couple who were watching the hippies dance and sing, hands raised to clap in time to the music.

She knocked into the man from behind, hand disappearing into his back pocket then shoved the red Chairman Mao wallet beneath her armpit. The old couple turned around to look at her, startled.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed in what sounded like polite, humiliated tones, then looked closer at them.

"Dui bu qi!" The man and woman smile, surprised.

"Hao shuo!" The old lady waved her hands as if to say 'don't worry about it' and they turned back to the show. The old woman's eyes crinkled in happiness now, but she would look a lot different when she found out her husband's wallet was gone. Her pale face would crumple, knotted fingers searching through their bags to see if they could find it. It would be even more difficult for them to recover it in a foreign place when they clearly didn't speak English. It wasn't hard to feel the necessary anger.

There was a gong-like sound as Oatmeal the bongo player slapped his drum one final time before freezing. The screech of the crowd turned into a static-like buzz, a bird was in mid-flight right above my head, and I was in a sea of statues. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Klepto was turning away from the couple, so my fingers dove under her arm, slipped the wallet back into the man's pants, and released my hold on my skill.

Time pressed the play button on its mental remote and the world started up again. The victim grabbed his pocket where I had shoved the wallet and then looked around alarmed. I had already taken a step away back into the crowd but he searched frantically for whoever had apparently grabbed his butt. Pickpocket walked ten steps before suddenly clutching at her side, then looked down at the floor. She retraced her steps but couldn't see the red wallet anywhere.

Her eyes searched until she found the old man with hands on his butt and there she saw the corner of Mao's face sticking out. Her eyes bulged and her head whipped back and forth, still trying to figure things out. I'd walked far away by then, holding my pounding head, so there was nothing to connect it to me. A green window popped up in the corner of my vision. Congratulations you have prevented petty theft. Reward: 3 Hero Points My shoulders slumped as I exhaled my breath loudly.

Three measly points for all of that work? Was the system paying attention at all- did it not know how hard this was to do all while trying to keep everything secret? Guess this was why everyone went with the out and open super hero route. It just got them easier points. After a hurried conversation, the Chinese couple packed up and headed out of the park. The wife clutched her husband protectively and her head swiveled around, looking for the next apparent groper to make a move on her man.

Sticky Fingers moved on, honing in on a busy family. The kids were practically climbing up their parents, the parents were arguing about who gave Timmy all that sugar, so she bent down to tie her shoe while also darting a hand into the mom's purse at her feet. The blue debit card was neatly slipped down her long shirt sleeve, and she held onto the edge as she straightened to make sure it didn't tumble out.

This poor family, who were already over their heads with children who used them like a jungle gym, clearly didn't need more problems. They were going to need that money for therapy later on. The girl took one good step away from her victims, but the second one got stuck midway. She had this triumphant smirk on her frozen face, certain that this time she was successful. I still had a leftover headache from the previous one and it was like a switch was turned on to instant migraine setting now.

Still, my tongue stuck out at her as I pushed the fingers around her wrist open, reached my hand into her sleeve, grabbed the card and tossed it back into the mom's purse. There was no time left to rush a few steps back before my control slipped and the crowd's jumbled noise ratcheted back up, so I turned my body away while keeping my eyes shifted towards her to watch. Amongst the people starting to move again, she stared at her hand where her fingers were open instead of clutched around her wrist.

Whoops, forgot about that part. Klepto opened the shirt sleeve, shaking it to see if anything came out. When nothing did, she gave herself a full pat down, eyes scanning the ground all around her. Finally, she held a hand up to her forehead as if checking for a fever or maybe just contemplating if she'd gone insane. The veins in my head were pulsating and my bones ached all over my body, but still, that drew a smile from me. Another green screen popped up in the corner of my vision.

Warning: Repeated farming of criminals earns no points. My eyes bulged out of their sockets as my mouth dropped open. Zero points for my heroic achievement just now. Farming of criminals? How did this omnipresent, supposedly omniscient system not understand that I was just trying to prevent crimes? Okay, sure, I wasn't knocking her to the ground, whipping out handcuffs, but that was because I couldn't. Apparently, in that way, I was allowing them to continue their nefarious deeds.

My eyes darted through the crowd, finally falling on a policeman walking casually on the outskirts. I might not be the one to put them in the back of a patrol car, but someone else could. Hippie girl over on the grassy knoll was still dancing, shaking a tambourine, but her expression was slightly unsettled as her eyes followed Pickpocket. Maybe there was a signal to show everything was going well that wasn't being communicated now. Artful Dodger had given herself a mental pep talk to give it another go.

She circled round a man in his late twenties who was about as wide as he was tall. Wearing thick glasses on his pasty face, he'd paired a Gengar shirt with One Punch Man shorts, and the ever classic white socks and sandals combo. Judging from his pallor, I'm guessing this was the first excursion he'd taken from his home in a long time. My brain felt stretched and squashed and my stomach was roiling. I was going to need to sleep on the subway home, just like the homeless people on it.

Why couldn't this girl just give up already? Pretty sure hippies didn't need to be millionaires to buy their tofu and beans. Then again, they do if they buy organic. The police officer walked about ten feet from us, looking in the other direction. I could call his attention in time to watch the theft happen, but then I would need to explain how I knew she was going to do it. That wouldn't work out well. Pickpocket took her time scoping things out, then made her move.

She took off her hat, shook out her mahogany hair, then stood right in front of the guy, acting like she was looking at something just behind his shoulder. Some people passed by and she used the momentum to fall chest first onto Gengar.

"Oops! Sorry about that!" She smiled up at him, steadying herself with one hand on his shoulder. The other had already dipped into the front pocket of his shorts and had transferred his wallet into her own pants, her hand gripping it tightly. Socks With Sandals' face went completely red, staring down at his shoes instead of at her. A lot of small noises came out of his mouth before he took a large breath, bowed at the waist, and said, "You honor me, Dojikko."

She smiled, putting her hands over her mouth, her arms pressing into her chest as she giggled. The effect on her cleavage was more than noticeable.

"Gomen nasai!" she squeaked out. You had to hand it to her. The girl knew how to work her audience. Sandals' cheeks turned rose red as he struggled to maintain eye contact while asking for her Discord. Floozy twirled her hair, made an excuse, and turned to walk away as disappointment dragged down the man's features. Her eyes immediately rolled as she held her finger up to her open mouth and gagged. Floozy had officially upgraded to a jerk.

I was thinking all of the bad thoughts, my anger was at the appropriate level, but my head was being torn in two. It felt like the only thing my body could do was lie down on the ground, much less stop the spinning of the universe. Everything stilled for a second and the surrounding chatter deepened and slowed. I took a step, extending my hand to reach, but then the noise was going higher, the people were starting to move albeit slowly.

I slapped my hands to the sides of my head, focusing my eyes on the pocket of the girl. Lava had erupted inside my skull, melting the little that remained of my brain, but I was trying to push through it. The world glitched for a bit, quickly going back and forth between slow and regular motion, but after a second or two, nothing was slow at all. Pickpocket was making a quick get away. The policeman had moved closer, but was still looking in the wrong direction.

She was a few feet from crossing behind him, her hand now clutching the wallet outside her pocket. I had one last chance to do something and the cogs in my brain slowly churned with an idea. My feet stumbled over the pavement, my hands pushed through the crowd, but I eventually made it to the thief. She was right behind the policeman now.

It felt like a grenade was exploding inside my forehead, but I focused on all of the people she'd tried to steal from- the Chinese couple, the family, Comic Book guy, and watched as she slowed and finally stopped. I didn't stop moving; I took her hand and shoved it into the officer's pants pocket. Two steps later and the noise of cars honking at each other had returned, people in the crowd bickering and laughing, and the police man shouting, "Hey!" My knees buckled and I collapsed on the pavement.

Blood was flowing down my nose, wet and hot. As for my head, I don't think it existed anymore, only charred remains. In fact, maybe I was dead. The last thing I heard was the police officer shouting; the last thing I saw were two pop ups with some green words. Warning: Extreme skill fatigue may cause headaches, loss of consciousness and potential power damage. Congratulations: Criminal Apprehended