I did not think that making a costume would be this much work. I thought I would just have to throw some underwear on over my pants, cut some holes out of a cloth bag, maybe stitch some sort of symbol to my shirt, and there you go! A costume that any masked vigilantly would be proud of, but then I got to thinking; every hero you see in comic books have a costume that reflects them in some form. Take Batman for example: Bruce Wayne runs around with a cape that looks like bat wings and has some pointy bits on his head to look like ears; he looks like a bat for all intents and purposes. So how am I, The Rake, the one who is destined to rake the city’s lawn clean of evil and ne’er-do-wells, design my costume?

At first, I thought I would imitate the costumes of my favourite comic heroes. I could go for the full body spandex like Spiderman, but not being in the best of shape, I thought that that might not be the best idea. Or how about a suit of high-tech armour ala Iron Man? While a good idea, my part time job at the Safeway pushing the carts back to the store would not be able to fund something that would be sure to cost at least a couple thousand dollars. That was when I finally turned to my name for inspiration, and to what I wanted to do for my fair city.

“So, is that why you look like a gardener with a sock on your head?” Dan, my best friend, asked after I showed him the costume I had designed and now wore in front of him.

“What’s wrong with it? This is what people look like when they tackle the garden.” Yes, the mask did need some work (it was a black sock with eye holes cut in it), but the rest of my suit I thought was pretty darn good. I had some heavy-duty work gloves; a pair of old, faded blue jeans; your typical work boots; some awesome knee pads I got for half-off; and a real nice plaid shirt. Oh yeah, and my rake, because I am The Rake! “A hero set to pluck the weeds of evil from the city and to rake the lawn of justice!”

“You look like my dad, man,” Dan said. “And what are you going to do with a rake anyway? Hit people with it?”

“I am going to rake the lawn justice with it!” I said, posing with my fist on my hip, and thrusting my rake in the air, “you know, like raking the leaves, but the leaves are criminals! And the lawn is the city” I got a little too into my speech, and I might have hit the roof with my weapon a few times.

“STOP HITTING THE ROOF!”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dan said with a grimace as my mother yelled down the stairs.

“SORRY!” I yelled back. “So, are you going to help me or what, dude? Every good hero needs a sidekick,” I said.

“What the hell,” Dan said as he stood up, and walked to the basement door. “Give me a bit to come up with something. I’ll call you later, or something.” Excellent! With the two of us joining forces, the criminal undercurrent that has terrorized this town will finally be brought to terms.

“IS DAN STAYING FOR DINNER!?”

“NO, HE JUST LEFT!”

“WHAT!?”

“HE JUST LEFT!!”

“Mary, have you seen my work gloves anywhere?” Dad asked over dinner (pork chops, potatoes, and green beans. I hate green beans.). “I could have sworn I left them in the shed the other day.”

“Are you sure they’re not in the garage?” Mom said as she helped herself to another helping of beans. How she can eat so many of these vile green things is beyond me.

“Brian took them, I saw him,” July, my irritating know-it-all sister, blurted out with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I saw him take them yesterday.”

“July, don’t take with your mouth full,” my mom said, “and Brian, did you take your fathers gloves?”

“What? No! Why would I take his gloves?” I had to keep them in the dark, because my family could not know about my alter ego as The Rake. Them knowing will put them in real danger once I have a nemesis or two, and while that could lead to an interesting adventure, I could not let that happen.

“Brian?”

“Mom, why would I take dad’s work gloves? What would I need them for?” I tried to act as casual as I could. “You know me and my friends; we sit in the basement all day playing those ‘damn video games’ as you like to call them.”

“I saw him, mom!” July yelled from the kitchen as she was taking her finished plate away from the table.

“I did not take them, July!” I yelled back, pushing my green beans around my plate trying to make it look like I had at least had a few.

“Stop yelling in the house, both of you, and Brian finish your green beans.” My mom shot me a look that told me I had to eat at least a few of my beans, and that our argument was over.

“I sure would like to know where my gloves went,” dad said to no one in particular, and continued to eat his dinner.

Dan came over a few days later to show me his costume. He was going to be Aerator Lad, and he was going to use Mace of Justice (a lawn aerator) to dig away at the foul lawn of injustice. I was happy with his drive and motivation, and his costume was excellent. Aside from opting for a ball cap and a pair of tinted safety goggles instead of a mask, he was fairly similar in dress to me.

“I have to say Dan, you look awesome. You’re a worthy sidekick to my hero,” I said while the two of us sat listening to the radio and watching the local news for any word of evil afoot.

This is how The Rake and Aerator Lad began their life of crime fighting.

I honestly cannot tell you how many days the two of us sat in my basement listening to the radio and watching public access TV in hopes of finding some way to help. I want to say no more than a couple of days, but in a small city like ours evil is slow to act, and ne’er-do-wells stay out of trouble for the most part. We stopped the odd jaywalker or two (I bet mister not waiting for the walking light will think twice next time, lest he wants to be chased and yelled at again by the cities last line of Justice!) and stopped one minor drug ring. Well, we really didn’t stop a drug ring, but we did flush my sister’s marijuana down the toilet and then laughed when she couldn’t find it. But back to the point, I and Aerator Lad spent the better part of a couple of weeks sitting in my basement listening to the news. That was until we finally got word of robbery in progress, down at the corner store on seventh and twentieth. With that, we flew to my dad’s car and drove to the scene; always minding the speed limit.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea, Brian...”

“The Rake,” I corrected him.

“Fine; I don’t think this is such a good idea, Rake.” Aerator Lad looked at me from the passenger seat, the blue and red flashing of the police lights colouring the inside of the car.

“Nonsense, my faithful sidekick! This is just the sort of thing we are here to prevent,” I said as we pulled over and got out of the car. “Just follow my lead!” With that said, we took off towards the scene of the crime with our weapons above our heads and heroism in our hearts. Neither the flimsy crowd of people, nor the police tried to stop us as we declared our intentions and we burst into the store. I did hear a few cries of “don’t go in there!” and “stop, you kids will get hurt!” It was heart warming to see the masses fear for our safety, but with justice and righteousness on our side, the two of us had nothing to fear.

The store clerk was obviously surprised to see us barge into the store instead of the police, but I think that she knew that she was in good hands with our timely arrival. The villain was also taken aback by our entrance, and he promptly pointed his firearm at the two of us, and away from the terrified store clerk.

“The hell is this?” the scum asked. Fear and shock evident in his voice.

“We are here to bring you before the proper authorities!” I said, one hand on my waist (balled in a fist for dramatic effect, like everyone in the comics) and the other raising my rake high into the air.

“Two kids dressed like gardeners?”

“Gardeners of the lawn of justice, for your information!”

“Well one kid really, the other one just ran out the door.”

He was right! The moment when I needed my side kick the most, during our first yet sure to be many take downs, Aerator Lad had fled the scene!

“No matter! I can take you on my own...”

“Kid, get out of here! RUN!” The clerk yelled at me, worrying about my safety above her own; she could make a good side kick in this fight.

“Shut up!” the ruffian said as he hit the young lady with the back of his hand, sending her to the ground with a cry of pain. With that, I sprang into action!

“He’s coming out of it...” I hear a voice say, but it’s distant. I feel so warm, like I’m floating in a warm bath.

“Brain, come on, please...” I hear the voice again, it reminds me of summer, but I don’t know why.

The room is bright, white, and smells of chemicals. Why am I here, and not at home? Am I in the hospital?

“Brian, you’re awake!” My sister yelled as she crushed me with a hug, which is quite out of character for her. She is usually irritated to see me most of the time, and that is on a good day.

“July, what’s wrong? Why are you so happy to see me? You saw me last night at dinner.”

“Brian, you’ve been in the hospital for a week now...”

“A WEEK!? What? Why?”

“You where being an idiot, and you tried to stop a thing, and you then got...” I could barely understand her. Her words all ran together, and her crying made it even harder to understand what she was trying to say.

“I think, what your sister is trying to say,” said a nurse coming into my room, “is that you tried to stop an armed robbery a week back, and things did not turn out all that well.”

“What do you mean, ‘all that well’?” I asked as I tried to sit up, tried being the key word. My chest screamed out at me, and I had to lie back down.

“You where shot, idiot!” July said.

“No way! Really?!” I tried to sit up again in my excitement, but again I had to lie back down; my chest hurt so much I had to catch my breath.

“A couple of times in the chest, and then you hit your head pretty hard on the floor I take it.” The nurse said as she checked a clipboard at the foot of my hospital bed. “I am not surprised that you don’t remember it.”

“You’re such an idiot!” July said again, but she had yet to let go of me.

“I’ll go and get your folks,” the nurse said and walked out of the room.

“Brian,” July looked me square on, “promise me you are going to stop this...this whole make-believe thing.”

“It’s not make...”

“Yes it is! Brian, you could have been killed! Do you have any idea how serious this is?” She asked me. The look of seriousness in her eyes touched me; this was the first time I have ever felt close to my sister.

“I just wanted to make the city a better place...”

“You can, just not by dressing up like a redneck, and attacking armed men with a garden rake...”

I didn’t know what to say. A part of me knew she was right, knew that this playing dress up was stupid. But I just wanted to make the city a better place; I wanted to make a difference.