The Amazing Adventures of Phoenix Jones: And the Less Amazing Adventures of Some Other Real-Life Superheroes: An eSpecial From Riverhead Books by Jon Ronson Page B

best of us,” he says.
    Does this guilelessness make him delightfully naive or disturbingly naive? I wonder. He is, after all, planning to lead me into hazardous situations this weekend.
    4 am . We finally locate his crew on a street corner near the train station. Tonight there’s Pitch Black, Ghost, and Red Dragon. They’re all costumed and masked and, although in good shape, shorter and stockier than Phoenix. He stands tall among them, and more eloquent, too. They’re a little monosyllabic, as if they’ve decided to defer to their leader in all things.

    Pitch Black
     

     
    Ghost
     

    Red Dragon
     
    They have a visitor—a superhero from Oregon named Knight Owl. He’s been fighting crime since January 2008 and is in town for an impending comic book convention. He’s tall, masked, and muscular, in his mid-twenties, and dressed in a black and yellow costume.

     
    Knight Owl
     

    They brief Phoenix on a group of crack addicts and dealers standing at a nearby bus stop. A plan is formed. They’ll just walk slowly past them to show who’s boss. No confrontation. Just a slow, intimidating walk past.
    We spot the crack addicts right away. There’re ten of them. They’re huddled at the bus stop, looking old and wired, talking animatedly to each other about something. When they see us they stop talking and shoot us wary glances, wondering uneasily what the superheroes are covertly murmuring to each other.
    This is what the superheroes are murmuring to each other:

KNIGHT OWL: “I’ve discovered a mask maker who does these really awesome owl masks. They’re made out of old gas masks.”
PHOENIX: “Like what Urban Avenger’s got?”
KNIGHT OWL: “Sort of, but owl-themed. I’m going to ask her if she’ll put my logo on it in brass.”
PHOENIX: “That’s awesome. By the way, I really like your black and yellow color scheme.”
KNIGHT OWL: “Thank you. I think the yellow really pops.”
PITCH BLACK: “I just want a straight-up black bandanna. I can’t find one for the life of me.”
PHOENIX: “You should cut up a black T-shirt.”
PITCH BLACK: “Hmm.”
     

    Knight Owl, Phoenix Jones, and Red Dragon on patrol.
     
    We’re ten feet from the bus stop now. Close-up these dealers and addicts look exhausted, burned-out.
    “Leave them alone,” I think. “Haven’t they got enough to deal with? They’ll be gone by the time the daytime people arrive. Why can’t they have their hour at the bus stop? Plus, aren’t we prodding a hornet’s nest? Couldn’t this be like the Taco Incident times a thousand?”
    The Taco Incident. Ever since Phoenix burst onto the scene some weeks ago with a short item on CNN extolling his acts of derring-do, the wider superhero community has been rife with grumbling. Many of the two hundred real-life superheroes out there, evidently jealous of Phoenix’s stunning rise, have been spreading rumors about him. The chief rumormongers have been New York City’s Dark Guardian and Washington State’s Mister Raven Blade. They say Phoenix is not as brave as he likes people to believe, and he’s in it for personal gain, and his presence on the streets only serves to escalate matters. For this last criticism they cite the Taco Incident.
    “Tell me about the Taco Incident,” I ask Phoenix now.
    He sighs. “It was a drunk driver. He was getting into his car so I tried to give him a taco and some water to sober him up. He didn’t want it. I kept insisting. He kept saying no. Eventually he got kind of violent. He tried to shove me. So I pulled out my Taser and I fired some warning shots off. Then the police showed up. . . .”
    “I didn’t realize he was a drunk driver,” I said. “The other superheroes inferred it was just a regular, random guy you were trying to force a taco onto. But still”—I indicate the nearby crack dealers—“the Taco Incident surely demonstrates how things can inadvertently spiral.”
    “They’re in my house,” he resolutely replies. “Any corner