Golden Age, Episode 9, Part 2
People always talk about where they were when they first heard about The Correspondent. She came out of nowhere and tried to make a difference. Some saw her as a beacon of hope, others as a sign of how far down the slope we had come. I never paid attention to all of that. I was too busy. Too busy working to pay my bills, too busy trying to figure out life. I was seventeen when it started. I was The Correspondent. This is my story.
Shelby and I spent the remainder of my recovery together. Once I got permission to use my leg and didn’t need the wheelchair he would give me a ride to school. We went out on more dates, but I was so focused on getting better that things went slow. I hadn’t had this much time on my hands in a long time and started to get good grades.
Christmas came and went. The start of the new year was also when I got my cast off. I was doing a lot of physical therapy and was feeling stronger and stronger. I wanted to get back out on the streets but I had no costume and didn’t want to order from Acme again, since it looked like they were selling to both sides.
I spent my time before bed on my tablet looking at other options. There weren’t a lot of off the shelf alternatives to the Acme suit or gadgets, but I was determined. Since Shelby knew about The Correspondent he offered to help. Turns out he is pretty good at gadgets.
My mom was reluctant to let me get another two wheeled vehicle but I convinced her. I found a used crotch rocket that needed some work and together Shelby and I fixed it up into the ultimate crime fighting vehicle. My mom bought me a full set of motorcycle gear, which got me thinking about my next costume.
I missed my scooter but this bike was so much more maneuverable. It took me a week before I was weaving in and out of traffic and learning the ropes of this new bike. Shelby had bought me a wireless setup for my new ghetto phone and I was able to talk to him while I drove. The plan was for him to be my eyes and ears while I patrolled.
Convincing my mom to get a motorcycle was easy compared to the fights we had about me going back out as a crime fighter. She was dead set on keeping me away from that life that she cried every time we talked about it. I gave up. I wasn’t going back out until I had a costume and that was going to take a while.
After some convincing I started my internship with Mendez again. I think he was glad I was alive. I got back to my sorting of the evidence room and even though I wasn’t directly involved I felt like I was doing something. Now I just had to be patient and I would be back fighting crime in no time.
Dylan Reed has always been interested in a good story. Raised without a TV he spent a lot of time with books and loves reading. Dylan has been a professional entertainer, studied commercial diving, and loves random trivia. He brings all of this and more together in his stories.