Chapter Twelve - Voluntary

Finding a place to volunteer at was actually very easy.

Her first stop had been to a thrift store, not just to see if they needed some help, but also to pick up some essentials for Teddy. A few hoodies (Teddy found one with a bear on the front that she immediately grabbed onto, even though it was a men’s hoodie and was about four sizes too large besides) and some shirts and shorts and some PJs. Emily even found a few blankets and a blow-up mattress that had been patched up a few times. It was cheaper than buying a new one though, so she added it to her stuff.

It took some pacing to build up the courage to ask the nice older lady behind the counter whether or not they needed help. As it turned out, the thrift store was operating just fine, but the soup kitchen a few blocks down was usually staffed in part by students, many of whom had graduated.

Emily paid for her things, thanked the old lady profusely for the discount she added for ‘such a nice single mom’ and walked out of the place with her face steaming and Teddy asking some very loud and inappropriate questions all the way back to their dorm.

The soup kitchen was a little building just off the campus and set up in an old office block with some ratty apartments above it. The people waiting around for a bite to eat were surprisingly young. Not the destitute people Emily had been expecting, but students who were maybe on the wrong side of the poverty line.

Finding the person in charge was simple enough.

Mister Landcaster was a big, gregarious man with a voice like a foghorn and a personality to match. When an almost-hyperventilating Emily asked him if they needed help, he took one look at her, then eyed Teddy who was swimming in her new hoodie up and down before he barked a laugh. “Girl! We always need the help!”

Emily and Teddy were ushered to the back rooms where a few other volunteers were setting things up. Mister Landcaster decided that she was too pretty and that Teddy was too young to be out and about with the ruffians, so they were set to doing the dishes at the back.

Emily expected Teddy to complain, but the girl took to drying with gusto. “I’m going to do my part to help my comrades,” was all she had to say on the matter.

She chose not to look the gift bear in the mouth.

Doing the dishes was... surprisingly cathartic. The back rooms for the soup kitchen were a bit dingy. With old cracked tiles, and water that had to be stopped every few minutes so that the hot water tanks at the back could warm up a bit more, but it was all impeccably clean, and the place smelled like her kitchen back home when her mom had another cooking show phase.

The other volunteers chatted between each other a bit, but they didn’t force Emily to participate, something she whole-heartedly approved of.

It was a nice backdrop to work on, filling all of her social needs for the year in the time it took for her to wash up a few dozen plates. She learned that someone called Abigail was pregnant again, and that her wife was very proud about it. That a scary villain called Broccoli of all things had turned into some sort of sky pirate, and that the local knitting circle had lost a member recently because of infighting.

It was all quite titillating and interesting, and she didn’t have to say a word other than to ask Teddy to help her take out the trash.

An hour or so in, she noticed that the water in her rinse bowl was getting a bit nasty. She flicked the tap off and took a deep breath.

“M-miss?” She asked one of the friendlier seeming women who was chopping up carrots.

“Hrm? Yes dear?” the lady asked without looking away from the machine-gun clatter of her knife tearing through vegetables.

“The dirty water, um, I can’t just dump it in the drain, so, do I, uh...”

The woman paused and looked up for just a moment. “It’s just soapy water? Bah, take it out the alley in the back. There’s a big old drain by the trash. A bit of bone and some vegetables tossed down there won’t cause anyone any harm.”

“Oh, okay,” Emily said.

She scurried back to the sinks and started to lift the heavy square bucket of dirty water out. “What are you doing, Boss ?” Teddy asked.

“Just emptying this out back, It’ll only take a minute,” she said through grit teeth. Her arms were on the skinny side of muscly.

With wobbling steps, she carried the soapy water past the kitchen staff who all carefully stepped out of her way, and towards the back door. She had to place the bucket down to open up the door, but that was simple enough.

The back alley was a bit like the kitchens. Old and dilapidated, but still fairly clean. The smell coming from the two dumpsters off to one side was a bit strong, but she figured that was just the old vegetables and meats flung into it, nothing really back, just a bit on the stinky side.

Emily had just spotted the drain she was probably meant to use--a good thing because going back for more detailed instructions would have been mortifying--when some screaming from the far end of the alley had her turning around.

There was a man running towards her, one that she suspected would stick out from any crowd. He had an outfit like some sort of renaissance actor, a long burgundy coat that flared out behind him, strange calf-length pants that showed off his white stockings and a dark green bandana-like mask under a bicorn hat.

Above him, floating like a warning to all that would care to look, was a name.

Alea Iacta

Rascal, Level One

Emily gasped, stumbling back as the man, the villain sprinted towards her.

He wasn’t the one screaming though. That was the two people coming around the corner at a dead run after him.

Silver Fox

Do-Gooder, Level Three

Glamazon

Defender, Level One

Emily felt her breath hitching as she stared at not one, but two heroes coming down the alley towards her. The first was even one she recognized. Silver Fox was an older hero, one who changed his name over time to match his aging body.

He was supposed to have super strength of some sort, able to throw cars and dodge shots from guns and such while keeping his mop of black-grey hair perfectly quaffed. His fox-like silver mask was on every bottle of men’s shampoo in her parent’s bathroom.

The other hero... was a young woman in a jeans jacket, a glittering mask over her face the only costume she had. Emily put two and two together. “Jezebelle?” she muttered.

And then the villain was on her.

She squeaked and ducked forwards, eyes squeezing shut as she expected a blow that never came.

Instead, Alea Iacta tore the bucket from her hand and laughed aloud as he spun by. “Thank you, milady!” he said as he ducked between the dumpsters at the far end.

A couple of gallons of soapy water crashed to the ground and splattered the front of her skirts, turning them lukewarm and wet while suds spread out before her.

The heroes, like something out of a poorly plotted comedy, stepped into the water and in the same instant lost their footing.

Silver Fox, for all that he was older, spun around in a way that was almost graceful before crashing onto his side and rolling across the dirty ground. His silver costume got stained a bit, but he was up on his feet in an instant.

Glamazon wasn’t nearly so graceful.

She tripped with a squeak, legs spinning and arms flailing as she tried to turn the spill into a roll. She succeeded, partially, and ended her tumble by kicking Silver Fox’s legs from out under him.

Emily stared, arms still outstretched to hold onto a bucket that was rolling away. Her mind kicked back into gear with a squeal and she turned around to run back inside. Not only was it the smart thing to do when people in masks started to throw down, she also had a very good reason not to be stopped.

Which is why she had a full-body cringe when Jezebelle called out. “Hey, you! Stop!”

Emily stood rigid, eyes staring longingly towards the back door of the soup kitchen.

“Damn,” Silver Fox said. He had a deep baritone of a voice, one that had probably helped convince her mom to buy his shampoos for her dad. “He’s a slippery one, I’ll give him that.”

“Urgh, was that a pun, old man?”

Silver Fox snorted. “I’m meant to teach you all parts of the trade. Banter’s important too.” A hand landed on Emily’s shoulder. “Now miss, would you mind if we asked a few questions?”

***