Pigeonholed

Craig bounced up and down as the line of graduates inched forward towards the Academy headmaster, who held their long sought diplomas in his hand.

Craig elbowed his buddy Louis in the ribs. “This is it! This is it!”

Louis straightened out his cap and gown. “So you keep telling me.”

“What you think we’re going to get? Superspeed, super strength?”

Louis shrugged. “I don’t know. Whatever I get, I get. It’s a superpower. It’ll be cool.”

“Maybe if it’s something really cool, I can get that date with Jennifer Lawson.”

Louis cast Craig a doubtful look. “I doubt they’re handing out the power to freeze Hell over.”

As the next graduate stepped forward, the Headmaster unfurled the roll of parchment. “Anita Sanchez, Cum Laude. Superpower, enhanced vision.”

               Anita snatched the diploma and stared at it, wide eyed. “Enhanced vision?”

               The Headmaster pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yes, from what I understand, you’ll be able to see at any distance, through anything. Even lead.”

               Anita punched the air. “Yeah! Better than Superman!”

               Craig took another step forward, rubbing his hands together. “Anita got Super vision and she was only Cum Laude! Oh man, this is gonna be good!”

               After Nelson Shaw was gifted the ability to bend wood and Leslie Singh the ability to lick the paint off any surface, Craig finally reached the head of the line.

               The Headmaster cleared his throat. “Craig Talsman, Magna Cum Laude. Superpower, power over pigeons.”

               Craig’s jaw fell. He snatched the diploma away from the Headmaster. “Pigeon power?”

               The Headmaster shook his head. “No, actually that’s a different thing altogether. Pigeon power would be the power of a pigeon. Flight, excessive head bobbing, loose bowels. You have control over pigeons. Congratulations.”

               The Headmaster tried to extend his congratulatory handshake to the next in line but Craig blocked off Louis from advancing with his body.

               “Pigeon power?” Craig squawked. “That’s it?”

               The Headmaster sighed. “No, as I said, pigeon power—”

               “Fine, fine. Power over pigeons. Whatever. But that’s it? After getting straight A’s, an honors dissertation, a year abroad, all I get is the power to order around a bunch of rats with wings? Donovan, you got to be kidding me!”

               “This is why we should have virtual graduations,” Headmaster Donovan muttered under his breath. “Mr. Talsman, we do not dispense with these powers arbitrarily. A select committee of esteemed educators and experienced superheroes and sidekicks carefully examined your scholastic record and determined that this superpower would best enable you to fight for Truth, Justice and the American Way. Congratulations. Now if you please.”

               Again Donovan attempted to confer a superpower upon Louis, but Craig stiff-armed his friend in the chest to keep him from claiming it.

               “How am I supposed to fight for Truth, Justice and the American Way with pigeons? Deliver messages for the army in the event that World War I breaks out again?”

               Donovan chuckled. “World War I. How droll. Mr. Talsman, have you learned nothing these past three years?”

“Three and a half,” Craig said. “I studied a year abroad in Sweden, remember?”

Donovan nodded. “Quite right. Well if you learned anything from Tab Man during your sojourn in Sweden it’s that if you’re truly superhero material, you can fight against darkness and evil with anything. Tab Man’s power is to be able to pull the tab off a soda can without it breaking and he saved the life of the U.S. Assistant Secretary of—”

“—Pork products, hot dogs and other strange phenomena.” Craig rolled his eyes. “So he told me. A thousand times.”

“You’re very fortunate. Superpowers were very limited in my day,” said Donovan. “I didn’t get one upon graduation.”

“You got a limited edition Aston Martin 34X with rocket launchers, infrared headlights, turbo engines, undeflatable tires and a martini mixer.

               Donovan twiddled his fingers as he giggled. “Still purrs like a kitten. Now if you please.”

Craig stomped his feet. “I’m an American and I have rights! I demand you give me a power commensurate with my grades…”

Donovan pointed to the back of the line. “Kathy Zachary, superpower telekinesis.”

“Alright!” Kathy shouted.

Donovan waved at the still ranting Craig. “Would you please?”

“… my father got flight, his father got superstrength, his father….What?” Craig shot up in the air like a rag doll seized by an invisible hand, jerking back and forth until he was zoomed forward into the auditorium wall, sliding down it into the refreshment table.

“Sorry Craig,” shouted Kathy. “Still working out the kinks.”

Donovan straightened his tie. “Louis Theminata?”

Louis looked at his friend Craig covered with warm potato salad, then at Donovan, again at Craig, then at the diploma in the Headmaster of the Academy’s hand.

“He’ll be alright.” Louis smiled and held out his hand to the headmaster.

Craig tried to wipe the cocktail sauce off his stained gown.  “Will you look at this? I’ll probably lose my deposit.”

“I said I was sorry!” shouted Kathy as she hurried out the auditorium door with her family.

“Not sorry enough to help with the bill!” Craig shouted back.

Louis held out a roll of parchment. “Got your diploma.”

Craig glared at Louis, snatching the diploma and cramming it into his back pocket. “Pigeon power. Can you believe that crap? Pigeon power!”

“Actually it’s power over pigeons—”

“Bite me,” Craig spat.

Louis shrugged. “I can’t. I got the Venom bite power.”

Craig fanned out his graduation gown. “And what am I going to do about this?”

Louis turned and whistled. Craig’s graduation gown flashed sparkled as if struck by pixie dust. A second of two later, Craig’s gown was as clean as the day he picked it up from the school store.

“Your power?” asked Craig.

Louis shook his head. “Frannie’s. And she thought the power to instantly dry clean was as useful as the power over pigeons yet she just saved your deposit. Donovan may be a tool, but he is right about one thing. If you put your mind to it, you can figure out something useful to do with that power. Strike a blow against the powers that be and all that.”

Craig shrugged. “Won’t get me a date with Jennifer Lawson.”

Louis smirked. “You’re better off. She’s got flea power.”

“Power over fleas?”

“No. Strunk to the size of one. Come on. Our families are waiting outside to take pictures”

               Louis put his arm over his friend’s shoulder and led him out the auditorium door. 

               Headmaster Donovan smiled as he walked through the Academy grounds, giving a slight wave and nod to the graduates huddled with their loved ones, grateful for their new abilities to fight for Truth, Justice and the American Way. When he crossed into the parking lot that satisfied grin suddenly gave way to a blood curdling scream when he saw his prized limited edition Aston Martin 34X with rocket launchers, infrared headlights, turbo engines, undeflatable tires and a martini mixer covered in pigeon poop.

               Hiding a few yards away behind a lamppost, Craig and Louis hi-fived.