It is not easy having no skin and being the son of a superhero — just ask Roger. Roger’s dad was also named Roger, but he was known to the citizens of Hamelin Point as Super Roger. An unfortunate incident with some nuclear waste melted off all of his skin and gave him superhuman powers. He could fly, freeze things with his breath, burn things with his eyes, and punch through a brick wall. The streets of Hamelin Point became a lot safer once he decided to make use of his new found powers as a crime fighter. All of the rogues, criminals, and ne’er-do-wells thought twice before they committed an evil deed after Super Roger began patrolling the city. But when you become the enemy of that many evil doers, something bad is bound to happen to you. And it did. Super Roger was killed by a few of his more persistent opponents. He left behind his wife and, unbeknownst to him, his unborn son. So Roger never knew his superhero dad. In fact, he did not even know that his dad was a superhero; his mom never told him. But that does not mean that Super Roger had no influence on his young son’s life.

        When Roger was born, he was skeleton like his dad. When his mom saw this, she decided to resign from her job as a nurse and move away from Hamelin Point. You see, she was worried that the bad guys who fought Super Roger would come for Roger. Father and son were both walking, talking skeletons, so it was easy to see the resemblance. They looked so similar that the villains might have even thought Roger was Super Roger (they did not all know that he was dead), and then there would be no telling what they might do to him. Roger’s mom was not going to take any chances, so she and her newborn son moved into a little cottage in The Seaside, a town so far away from Hamelin Point that there was no chance of anyone who knew Super Roger finding them there. But that did not assuage her fears. Just in case anyone might see Roger and figure out his lineage, Roger’s mom never let him out of the house (except when he was wearing his trench coat, sunglasses, and hat).

        “Mommy! When do I get to start school? I can’t wait to meet my teacher. We need to get me a backpack and a lunchbox and…” Roger asked on his fifth birthday.

        “Now, now Roger.” his mother replied. “I’m going to be your teacher. I would miss you too much if you went to school all day so I’m going to homeschool you myself.” She really would have missed him if he went to school, but that was not the only reason she kept him at home. What she did not tell him was that she was too scared to let him out of the house. There was no point in having him worrying about it too, so Roger started his homeschooling oblivious to the fact that he was the son of a superhero and that there were people out there who would hurt him because of it. His mom taught him how to add and subtract and about history and geography and science. He was a bright student and loved learning, but a five-year-old has far too much energy to spend everyday cooped up inside a tiny cottage studying. Since his mother would not let him play outside (again out of her fear of him being recognized), Roger was frequently breaking lamps and scratching the furniture and putting dents in the walls (not on purpose, of course)/ But what five-year-old who is stuck playing inside all day is not going to accidentally break a thing or two (or nine or ten)?

        For want of having fewer things broken around the house, Roger’s mom tried to think of a way for her young skeleton to expend all of his energy outside of the cottage without being seen. As she was flipping through the phone book looking for a solution to this problem, she happened upon an advertisement for Sensei Watanabe’s Jujitsu Dojo. Roger could play until exhaustion and he would learn to defend himself (just in case any of Super Roger’s old enemies ever did find him). Perfect! Wasting no time, she dialed the phone number from the phone book.

        “Sensei Watanabe? I’d like to enroll my son in jujitsu lessons.”

        “Very good.” said the Sensei in a slow, soothing, singsong kind of way. “I am always looking for new students. My Dojo is small and I can only fit ten students at a time, but one particularly uninterested student dropped out just yesterday. How lucky.”

        “Well, I was hoping that he could be taught one-on-one. Being in a class with nine other students isn’t the best environment for him. He – oh, how do I put this? – he has no skin.” Roger’s mom was unsure how the Sensei would take this. She waited with baited breath for his response.

        “I have heard of people with thin skin, but no skin? He must be very easily scared. You have nothing to worry about. In fact, the best way to build his confidence is to teach him alongside the other nine students, not teach him all alone.” The Sensei had dealt with overprotective parents before.

        “No, you misunderstand me.” began Roger’s mom. “My son is… well, his father was, uh… he is the son of Super Roger.” There was a long silence. Roger’s mom was beginning to think that the line was dead when the Sensei finally said,

        “The Super Roger? The masked skeleton?”

        “You know him?” Roger’s mom had not expected this.

        “Know him? Why, he saved me once many years ago in Hamelin Point. To think he has a son! How is the old vigilante?”

        Roger’s mom took a deep breath and said,

        “He died five years ago.” There was another pause in the conversation as the news rolled over the Sensei like a wave on the sand.

        “I am deeply sorry for your loss. The world is a darker place without your husband. What can I do for your son?”

        “I want you to teach him martial arts. He needs to be able to defend himself in case he encounters a criminal with a grudge against my husband, but I don’t feel that he would be safe in a full class. Can we schedule a time when you can devote your undivided attention to his training?” she asked.

        “Of course. The son of Super Roger will likely have a natural aptitude for fighting. He will pick up Jujitsu like a dropped ball of wasabi picks up cat hairs and carpet fibers.”

        He did not.

© 2011 T.L. Mertens. All rights reserved.