The Hero

     Tory flicked his ears back. “Well, this is useful! Are you absolutely sure there’s no one else? What about Sloth?”

     Lightning Lenny sighed and looked down at the young red Lupe. “Listen, kid. Even if Sloth did attack, we wouldn’t be sending young, inexperienced things like you to fight him. That would be a job for the Space Faerie, or Judge Hog.”

     Tory grimaced at the words ‘young, inexperienced things’, and his ears turned even further back. “I’m only inexperienced because I’m never sent to fight tough opponents!”

     Lightning Lenny smirked. “Yeah, but you’re still young.”

     “I’ll grow up.”

     “Sure. And when you do, I’ll send you after another villain.”

     Game, set and match. Tory sighed and with a grumpy “Thank you,” turned from the desk and began walking back to the main doors. Unknown to him, two slightly amused eyes were watching him from the shadows.

     The Lupe shoved open the main doors and stepped out into the marketplace. He sighed and let his eyes rove over the crowds milling around, as the cool wind ruffled his fur.

     “I’ll never get the chance to become a hero,” he grumbled.

     “What makes you think that?”

     Tory jumped and spun around to face the owner of the new voice. Standing in front of him was a tall, muscly Moehog, adorned in a red and yellow outfit. Tory gaped at him.

     “Judge Hog!”

     Judge Hog smiled and sat down on one of the steps leading up to the defender’s headquarters. “Large as life, kid. Have a seat.”

     Tory was only half aware of sitting down on a step next to the leader of the Defenders. It was all he could do to gape and mumble weakly, “I’m your biggest fan!”

     Judge Hog snorted. “Sure. Everyone is. I asked you a question, and I’m still waiting for an answer.”

     “Uhh... question? What...”

     “You said you’d never get the chance to become a hero. I asked you why.”

     Something in Tory’s head clicked. “Oh. I... because no one will let me try. I’ve fought all of the villains that are at large, but Lightning Lenny won’t let me take on anyone tougher. Can you talk to him and make him-”

     “Whoa! Whoa!” Judge Hog held up his hands. “I won’t do anything of the sort! What would I tell your mother if you got eaten by the Esophagor, or turned into a mutant Grundo? Now, listen up, kid. Not every hero beats up bad guys.”

     Tory looked at him in puzzlement. “But...”

     “You don’t understand. Okay, let’s go back to the basics. What is a hero?”

     Tory frowned, wondering where this was going. “Uhh... someone who helps people when they’re in trouble?”

     “Exactly!” Judge Hog beamed. “Now, what sort of trouble would these people be in?”

     Tory was getting into familiar territory. “The Pant Devil could have stolen something from them, or they could be being teased by bullies, or they could be in trouble with Sloth, or...”

     Judge hog nodded slowly. “And what about the old lady who can’t pay her rent? Is she in trouble?”

     Tory gave the giant Moehog a bemused look. “I... guess... so...”

     “And who do you plan to beat up to help her? The bank manager?”

     Tory stared at him. “No... there wouldn’t be anything I could do to help her.”

     “Really?” Judge Hog’s eyes were serious, though he was still smiling. “Do you have an empty guest bedroom?”

     “Yeah.”

     “There’s one way you could help her. How many friends do you have?”

     Tory shrugged. “A few close ones, about a dozen general friends.”

     “What if you asked all of your friends to chip in a bit of money for this old lady? You could ask your acquaintances and enemies, too. It would only take a little bit from all of you to pay for her rent. That’s another way you could help her.”

     “Wow...” Tory stared at his hero. “I never thought about that sort of stuff.”

     “Often the people who need help the most are the ones who make the least fuss. You’ve got to look hard for them, but when you find them and help them, it’s sure worth it. Being a hero isn’t about going around and knocking out bad guys, it’s about helping people. You don’t have to be smart or brave or good looking or strong or rich or anything to do that. Do you understand, kid?”

     Tory nodded slowly, still slightly dazed.

     “Good. All you need to do to be a hero is to be a friend to one lonely kid at school. That’s all. You won’t get world recognition for it, but to that one kid you’d be the greatest thing since sliced bread.” Judge Hog stood up and dusted his costume off. “Remember, they can be hard to find. Focus on other people, instead of yourself, and you’ll see them soon enough, though. Have a good day, kid.”

     The door to the defender’s headquarters swung open, and then closed, and Judge Hog was gone.

     Tory sat in silence on the steps, thinking about what he had learnt. After a few minutes of silence, the clock on the bank struck twelve, and Tory jumped up with a start. He was late for work! Oh, man, he was so dead!

     The red Lupe took off like there was a pack of rabid Meepits behind him, and dashed down into the crowd.

     Two minutes later a very tired and slightly late Tory jogged into the Food Shop. The manager checked his watch, trying not to smile at the sight of the ragged, panting Lupe.

     “You, sonny, are late,” he said, just managing to keep the smile out of his voice.

     “Yes sir, sorry sir, I was talking to Judge Hog, sir.”

     “Alright, alright.” The Chia threw him the apron and ushered him behind the desk. It was Tory’s job to fill up the bags with groceries after the customers had paid Rick. He had hardly settled himself when the doors were forced open and a group of hungry shoppers poured into the building. Rick and Tory fixed the customary fake smiles on their faces, and began serving them.

     As the day got later, Tory found himself thinking about the bizarre conversation with Judge Hog. If helping someone was all he had to do to be a hero, he could manage that. Finding people who looked like they needed help was a different matter. Most of the shoppers coming in were grinning at bargains they’d gotten, and they all looked happy or at least content.

     It was close to four when the wave of customers slowed to a steady trickle, and Tory began getting ready to pack up and go home. As usual, the shopkeeper gave him some un-bought food to take home with him, and he stashed this in a bag under the desk he worked at.

     Rick yawned and stretched as a group of shoppers exited, leaving the shop empty except for them. “Hey, sonny, I’ll be stacking the shelves. You can handle any customers that come in, can’t you?”

     “Sure can, Rick.” Tory leaned on the bench and watched the clock. Eight minutes to go.

     The chime on the door tinkled and an old red Wocky came in. Tory glanced at him absentmindedly. He was one of the peculiar shoppers he had come to recognise. Unlike other people, the Wocky came in every day, and always bought the same thing- a small bread roll and two pieces of fruit. And he always paid for the food with an exact amount of change.

     Tory watched him absently as he shuffled around the shop. A very vague phrase drifted across his mind, and he tried to connect it to a voice. ‘Remember, they can be hard to find.’

     Tory snapped up, and a grin grew across his face. He might just have found someone to be a hero to.

     The Wocky came up to the desk to pay, and Tory greeted him. “Nice day, isn’t it, Mr. Uhhh...?”

     “McCain. Jason McCain. And yes, I suppose it is,” the Wocky replied shortly, handing Tory the food he was buying. Jason pulled a small handful of coins out of his pocket. Tory wanted to give him something, but one look at his face and he knew he wouldn’t appreciate charity. He just wasn’t that kind.

     An idea clicked in his head, and making sure Mr. McCain was busy counting out the money, he quietly reached under the desk, and pulling out one of the cakes he had been going to take home with himself, slipped it into the shopping bag under the other items. McCain paid him, and left unawares.

     Tory could hardly keep the grin off his face as he watched Jason walk away from the food shop. It really wasn’t that hard to be a hero, after all.

     Tory was so absorbed with his thoughts he didn’t hear the bell on the door as it opened again. Something large was put onto the counter, and Tory looked up to see a slightly grumpy and slightly embarrassed-looking Wocky standing in front of him.

     “I didn’t buy this,” McCain explained gruffly. “You must have put it in my bag by accident.”

     Oh, great. Tory groaned inwardly. On the outside, he put on an innocent smile and pushed the cake back towards McCain. “I’m sorry about that, sir, but I can’t take it back now. It would have to be thrown out- store policy, and all of that. Would you be able to keep it? I really don’t like to see food wasted.”

     The Wocky hesitated. “I didn’t pay for it...”

     Jason felt like telling him to shut his mouth and take it, but he knew that wouldn’t be very diplomatic. “I’d just have to throw it out otherwise. Have it for dessert, or something.” He pushed the cake back into McCain’s bag before he could argue.

     “Alright. Thank you.” The Wocky accepted the cake and left, albeit looking a bit put out. The clock struck four, and Tory took off his apron. Taking his bag, he skipped out of the door. In the distance he saw McCain walking through the crowds. The Wocky made his way towards a large tree under the sign “Money Tree”, and pausing under it, put the cake Tory had given him into the hands of a small street urchin who had been waiting for donations. Tory watched him walk away in indignant disbelief. The proud... mean... stupid, old...

     The red Lupe flicked his tail and stalked down the main road, not pausing until he was inside the Defender’s Headquarters.

     Lightning Lenny looked up from the desk and sighed wearily. “No, we don’t have any more villains to fight. Try coming back later. I mean, in a week, or something.”

     Tory slammed his paws onto the desk. “I need to talk to Judge Hog.”

     Lightning Lenny raised an eyebrow. “This is new. Sorry kid, but no. He’s very busy at the moment.”

     “But this is important! There’s an old Wocky who’s being a jerk!”

     A very sceptical look passed over the Lenny’s face. “Really, kid, just because someone isn’t Santa Kau, doesn’t mean they’re a villain. You can’t expect Judge Hog to arrest them just because they-”

     “You don’t understand! I need to talk to him!”

     Lightning Lenny stood up. Until then, Tory hadn’t fully appreciated just how tall he was. “Listen, kid, either calm down and talk rationally, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

     Tory took a long, slow breath, and lowered his voice. “I’d like to talk to Judge Hog, please.”

     “Yes, you already said that. And I already told you he’s busy.”

     A tall, thickset figure appeared beside Lightning Lenny. “Oh, I’m sure I can spare a few minutes.”

     Lightning Lenny shrugged resignedly, and Judge Hog led an exultant Tory to a quieter side of the main hall, where they could talk without being disturbed.

     Tory breathlessly explained all that had happened between him and the old Wocky, finishing with; “...and how in Neopia am I supposed to help people if they won’t let me?!”

     Judge Hog shook his head. “Let me try to explain. How would you feel if one of your friends gave you a gift?”

     Tory shrugged. “Happy, I guess. I’d feel special.”

     “And how would you feel if someone younger than you gave you some books, because he thought you were too poor to buy any yourself?”

     Understanding dawned across Tory’s face. “I’d feel really embarrassed.”

     “Exactly. That Wocky probably didn’t want to take the cake because it felt too much like charity.”

     Tory scuffed his foot against the ground. “What can I do, then? How can I help him without making him reject it?”

     “Remember the first example? You wouldn’t feel bad if a friend gave you something, as a token of your friendship.”

     Tory raised an eyebrow. “So I should become his friend first?”

     “Yes. Just make sure he feels you’re benefiting from the friendship as much as he is. Understand?”

     “I think so.”

     Judge Hog smiled. “Good. I have to go now, but if you need more help, don’t hesitate to ask me. ‘Kay?”

     Tory nodded eagerly, and with a wave, Judge Hog left. The Lupe cracked his knuckles. “Right. Let’s try again.”

     ~*~

     Tory knocked hesitantly on the door of a small, old house in a depressing part of town. It had taken him all of the day before to find out the address of Jason McCain, and now he found himself actually nervous.

     The town’s colours were predominantly grey. All of the houses were small and gloomy. It wasn’t an evil place; but it felt sad.

     There was a shuffling inside the house, and the door opened slowly to reveal the red Wocky. Jason frowned slightly.

     “Yes? Can I help you?”

     Tory had already come up with an excuse for his visit, and began repeating his speech very quickly, before he lost his nerve. “Hi, do you remember me? I’m the assistant from the food shop, and we got introduced yesterday, and I have an assignment for school about the Meridell war, and I didn’t know who to ask about it and then I remembered you and thought maybe you could tell me what it was like. Please.” Tory finished his speech breathlessly, and crossed his fingers behind his back.

     Jason McCain looked surprised, but shrugged. “Sure. I didn’t fight in it, but I had a brother who did. Come on in, if you like.”

     Tory grinned and followed the Wocky into his house. It was small, but decidedly more cheerful than the street outside. The furniture was old, but sturdy, and the walls were painted a light blue. Photographs lined the walls and mantelpieces. Tory looked at them as he followed McCain into the kitchen. One large painting of a pretty faerie Wocky caught his eye.

     “Who’s that?” He pointed to the painting, and McCain smiled.

     “That,” he replied, with a glimmer of wistfulness in his eyes, “that was Elison. She was my wife.”

     Tory felt like, in that second, he understood far more about Jason McCain than he had after a whole day’s worth of guessing. “Oh. She’s pretty.”

     Jason smiled faintly. “Thank you. Would you like something to drink?”

     Tory took one last look at the painting and followed the old Wocky into the kitchens.

     ~*~

     Tory stood up. “Thanks, Mr. McCain. I’ve learnt heaps!”

     Jason shook his head in amazement. “If you have, I don’t know how. We can’t have talked about the war for more than ten minutes. And please, call me Jason.”

     Tory grinned. Two hours of chatting and he felt he had finally befriended the old Wocky.

     “Sure thing, Jason. You’re right, I probably don’t have enough to complete my project; do you mind if I come back some other time? Maybe for dinner, or something.”

     Jason hesitated, and Tory mentally smacked himself over his blunder. Jason probably didn’t have enough to feed two people. The young Lupe spoke again, quickly, before the pause could be long enough to be embarrassing. “My mum makes a really good casserole. I was hoping you’d try it, and let me know what you think? I could bring it around one night, and complete my school project at the same time.”

     Jason nodded. “Alright. My wife used to cook casserole a lot. It would be nice to taste it again.”

     “Great.” Tory beamed. “Is any night alright for you?”

     The Wocky smiled indulgently. “Any time is fine. It’s past noon, now; your mother will be worrying. Do you know your way home?”

     “Yup! I’ll see you some other time, then?”

     “Sure.”

     Tory waved goodbye to Jason at the door, and with a skip set off down the road, grinning to himself. Jason McCain had seemed to enjoy the talk; and had been reluctant to suggest it was time to go. The Lupe stuffed his notepad into his pocket. He’d been there for just under two hours, and he already felt he had made a new friend.

     Who would have thought, he mused, that old people could be so interesting?

     ~*~

     Jason McCain shuffled through his house, closing the curtains as it got darker. For the umpteenth time that afternoon, he pondered the strange young Lupe who had knocked on his door, seemingly out of nowhere. He must have been desperate to resort to asking a stranger about a project; but Jason didn’t mind. He’d been lonely since his wife had died, and it felt good to have some company again.

     Had the cub been serious about coming over for dinner, though? Probably not, Jason concluded. Kids these days are too busy hanging out with their own friends to have time for near-strangers. It would have been nice, though. And there’s still a chance he might remember his offer one day, and pop over again for a visit.

     Jason sighed, and went to close the last curtain before getting his dinner. It was the big window that looked out over the pathway to the front of his house. Jason scanned the old buildings and droopy trees, and then raised his eyebrows in surprise. It was hard to see in the twilight, but as he squinted, he could see a small red Lupe determinedly striding up his pathway, carefully carrying a covered dish- presumably his mother’s casserole.

     Jason’s face registered surprise for only a few minutes before joy swept it away, and with a big grin he went to open his door to his guest.

     If he had been in the mood for nostalgia, he would have remembered a day a long time ago, when someone had first told him about how easy it was to be a hero.

The End