A Boy Named Petey

If Petey loved anything it was Saturdays. Not because it was the weekend and he didn't have to work, because Petey didn't really work, and not because Cliff's Corner Drug Store got rid of back issues of the comic books that didn't sell by putting them in a box and throwing them into the ally (supposedly for the trash but really for the neighborhood kids to rifle through) because Petey didn't like comic books. He said that if they were "going to invent imaginary superpeople, why don't they ever give them interesting superpowers instead of the obvious superhuman strength and flight and dexterity." He said that he'd rather read a comic that he could relate to, with superpowers like 'that perfect comeback line' or 'nicotine blood' or 'x-ray vision'. When one of us told him that Superman did have x-ray vision he looked at us like we didn't understand anything he was saying.

After one of those Saturday conversations, when Larry, a somewhat portly neighborhood kid who always tried to convince us to pilfer Cliff's unwanted comics with him, had left, Petey's cold gaze following him down the driveway and across the street, Petey said, "Guys, I'm sick of this bullshit," and he left. We could tell he wanted to be alone, or he was up to something, so we just sat in the shade and smoked. When Petey came back, he was in full costume, if you could call it costume. He crafted a cape out of his old security blanket and had the old box that Cliff put the comic books over his head for a mask. It didn't have any eyeholes or anything, so Petey was pretty beat up and bloody.

"Look Guys," he said, "I'm Saturday Boy." In Memory of Petey
[Dave]
Time:11:07 AM

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