Local Hero

was concerned, Zark had it all over Long John Silver or Huck Finn.
    Rolling over on his back, Radley stared at the freshly painted ceiling of his new room. The new apartment was okay. Mostly he liked the view of the park, and having an elevator was cool. But he wasn’t looking forward to starting a new school on Monday.
    Mom had told him it would be fine, that he would make new friends and still be able to visit with some of the old ones. She was real good about it, stroking his hair and smiling in that way that made him feel everything was really okay. But she wouldn’t be there when all the kids gave him the once-over. He wasn’t going to wear that new sweater, either, even if Mom said the color matched his eyes. He wanted to wear one of his old sweatshirts so at least something would be familiar. He figured she’d understand, because Mom always did.
    She still looked sad sometimes, though. Radley squirmed up to the pillow with the comic clutched in his hand. He wished she wouldn’t feel bad because his father had gone away. It had been a long time now, and he had to think hard to bring a picture of his father to his mind. He never visited and only phoned a couple of times a year. That was okay. Radley wished he could tell his mother it was okay, but he was afraid she’d get upset and start crying.
    He didn’t really need a dad when he had her. He’d told her that once, and she’d hugged him so hard he hadn’t been able to breathe. Then he’d heard her crying in her room that night. So he hadn’t told her that again.
    Big people were funny, Radley thought with the wisdom of his almost ten years. But his mom was the best. She hardly ever yelled at him and was always sorry when she did. And she was pretty. Radley smiled as he began to sleep. He guessed his mom was just about as pretty as Princess Leilah. Even though her hair was brown instead of golden and her eyes were gray instead of cobalt blue.
    She’d promised they could have pizza for dinner, too, to celebrate their new apartment. He liked pizza best, next to Commander Zark.
    He drifted off to sleep so he, with the help of Zark, could save the universe.
    When Hester looked in a short time later, she saw her son, her universe, dreaming with an issue of Universal Comics in his hand. Most of his books, some of which he paged through from time to time, were still in the packing boxes. Another time she would have given him a mild lecture on responsibility when he woke, but she didn’t have the heart for it now. He was taking the move so well. Another upheaval in his life.
    “This one’s going to be good for you, sweetie.” Forgetting the mountain of her own unpacking, she sat on the edge of the bed to watch him.
    He looked so much like his father. The dark blond hair, the dark eyes and sturdy chin. It was a rare thing now for her to look at her son and think of the man who had been her husband. But today was different. Today was another beginning for them, and beginnings made her think of endings.
    Over six years now, she thought, a bit amazed at the passage of time. Radley had been just a toddler when Allan had walked out on them, tired of bills, tired of family, tired of her in particular. That pain had passed, though it had been a long, slow process. But she had never forgiven, and would never forgive, the man for leaving his son without a second glance.
    Sometimes she worried that it seemed to mean so little to Radley. Selfishly she was relieved that he had never formed a strong, enduring bond with the man who would leave them behind, yet she often wondered, late at night when everything was quiet, if her little boy held something inside.
    When she looked at him, it didn’t seem possible. Hester stroked his hair now and turned to look at his view of Central Park. Radley was outgoing, happy and good-natured. She’d worked hard to help him be those things. She never spoke ill of his father, though there had been times, especially in the early years, when the bitterness and anger had simmered very close to the surface. She’d tried to be both mother and father, and most of the time thought she’d succeeded.
    She’d read books on baseball so she would know how to coach him. She’d raced beside him, clinging to the back of the seat of his first two-wheeler. When it had been time to let go, she’d forced back the urge to hang on and had cheered as he’d made his wobbly way down the bike path.
    She even knew about Commander Zark. With a smile,