Jasmine anxiously shuffled through the documents in her binder, double-checking to ensure they were all there. There were so many of them to keep track of. Birth certificates, social security cards, passports, driver's licenses, tax returns, medical records, the list went on and on. She had brought countless documents for her, her husband, and her son. Her grandmother had told her she was being excessive before she boarded the bus to Springfield, but it was better to be safe than sorry. There were far too many horror stories about people getting turned down for lack of proper documentation in this building.
In addition to her personal documents, Jasmine had copies of the paperwork that she’d sent in over the course of several months. The Office of Superact Inspectors required meticulous, painstaking paperwork, and Jasmine had nearly everything they required. She had paperwork detailing what she’d had in her home during the disaster, where she’d purchased it from, how much it had cost, and much more. Compiling this much documentation had been laborious work, and without the assistance of her friends, family, and local nonprofits, it would have been nearly impossible to do.
Jasmine couldn’t understand what the job of a Superact Inspector actually was. To her, it seemed like she was doing their work for them. She’d spoken to multiple Superact Inspectors on the phone over the past few months but hadn’t met a single one in person. None of her neighbors or the other victims affected by the disaster had met with a Superact Inspector either. Processing a relief claim for an Aberrant-related disaster was supposed to be quick and easy; well, according to Jasmine’s employers, it was.
But her bosses were wealthy and either didn’t live in her part of town or resided in the suburbs, which likely factored into the processing speed of their relief claims. Jasmine sighed frustratedly but composed herself when her son, seated beside her, pulled on her sleeve. She ironed out a fresh wrinkle on her black blazer and smiled at her five-year-old son, Tae Tae, who was beckoning her attention. He had two toys in his hands. In his right hand, he held up a miniature replica of Knightfall, Chicago’s premier superhero, the same hero who had inadvertently destroyed their project building. She hated that toy; just seeing it brought back traumatic memories, but her son was too fond of it for her to throw it away.
In Tae Tae’s left hand, he held up the menacing villain, Rompo. Jasmine didn’t understand how supervillains could possibly have licensing agreements, but society had changed significantly since Aberrants burst onto the scene. Tae Tae banged the Knightfall and Rompo toys into one another repeatedly, shouting excitedly as he did so.
“Momma, look, look!” Tae Tae yelled, bouncing up and down in his seat. He already had his mother’s attention but was now slowly drawing the unwanted gazes of other adults. The adults seated nearby Jasmine and her son tried not to be rude, feigning halfhearted smiles, but their annoyance began to show in the form of whispers and murmurs. Tae Tae was the only child in The Office of Superact Inspector's waiting room. Jasmine’s mother usually watched him when she was busy, but she had surgery scheduled for today, so Jasmine was forced to bring her son along with her.
The Office of Superact Inspector's waiting room was packed from wall to wall, and there was a line outside that stretched down the street. Black cushioned chairs were neatly arranged by row and occupied as far as the eye could see. The Office of Superact Inspectors, or TOSI, in abbreviated form, was housed in a grey, nondescript building similar to the DMV. TOSI took a lot of inspiration from the DMV. In fact, practically everything inside it was a one-of-one copy of any run-of-the-mill DMV.
The only significant difference between TOSI and the DMV was the lack of visible offices. Visitors were sequestered from TOSI agents in a nearly empty waiting room. Two automatic sliding doors granted entry into the building, and once ushered inside, a security guard handed every person a form to fill out. Every third Thursday, TOSI operated on a first-come, first-served basis; an appointment wasn’t required, so the earlier you arrived, the better. After a form was filled out, another security guard would grab it, take a short walk to the front of the room, pass through a metal detector, scan his or her badge, and open a hidden door.
Security wasn’t taken lightly at a TOSI building. Jasmine had seen twelve security guards in or around the building since she’d stepped off the bus in the parking lot. The heightened security made her antsy, but she figured it was for a good reason.
“Tayvon, I need you to be quiet,” Jasmine said as she plucked a toy from her son’s tiny hand. He was continuing to stir up a ruckus. Tae Tae was a nickname his grandmother had coined. It was catchy, and he preferred it, but it wasn’t his real name. Tayvon was his government name, but he was only called that when he was in trouble. “You’re making a lot of noise, and this is supposed to be a quiet area.” Jasmine pointed to a bright yellow sign on a nearby wall that said, “Keep the noise down.”
“But Momma, I –”
“Don’t Momma me,” Jasmine tsked. “If you keep this up when we get out of here, I’ll give your toys to your cousin, Farelle.”
Tayvon’s eyes widened in fear. That was the absolute last thing he wanted. He closed his mouth and leaned back into his seat with a blank stare. He was quiet now, but Jasmine held onto his toy just in case and put it and her binder in her large purse on the floor. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was past two now.
The TOSI building closed at five; time wasn’t on her side. If her name wasn’t called soon, she’d have to miss another day of work next month and take another three-hour-plus bus ride from Chicago to Springfield. Jasmine was already dreading it but tried to remain hopeful. A man she’d shared the bus with was getting his name called over an intercom. It wouldn’t be too much longer until it was her turn. Ten minutes later, her worry dissipated; her name was finally called.
Jasmine hurriedly gathered her possessions, grabbed her son, and followed a security guard’s lead. He took her and her son through a metal detector and patted them down before finally letting them through the sole door at the front of the room. They entered a long, colorless hallway with security guards posted every ten feet. These guards were heavily armed and didn’t even acknowledge Jasmine’s presence as she walked by. It was a little intimidating, but Jasmine had seen heavier firepower on the streets back home.
When she finally reached the end of the hallway, Jasmine was greeted by a pretty, petite middle-aged woman at a small receptionist desk. There was a door behind her and another heavily armed guard who wore a black balaclava. Every guard wore the same plain black and white uniform, with TOSI’s symbol stitched into the fabric, a shooting star with America’s colors. The woman asked for two forms of identification, which she inspected thoroughly and made copies of. After verifying them, she allowed Jasmine and her son to continue on ahead. The guard who ushered Jasmine through the initial door bid her goodbye, and the new guard took her the rest of the way.
They entered a vibrant red corridor. They were only two steps in when Tae Tae told his mother that he had to pee. He’d been holding it in for a while now. The masked guard took a detour to the women’s restroom and waited outside. Jasmine let her son use the bathroom and took the opportunity to inspect herself in the mirror. She wanted to look as presentable as possible for this interview.
Jasmine’s sister had helped her twist her usually unruly curls into neat, short braids last night. Light makeup that hadn’t smudged yet had been applied to her face earlier this morning. Her white collared shirt was unblemished, which was great news because she’d borrowed this shirt and the rest of her outfit from a close friend. Jasmine wanted to return these clothes in mint condition. Her black dress pants were a tad too long for her five-foot-six frame but were otherwise fine, and her matching-colored heels were a size too small, but Jasmine shouldered the pain.
She finished helping her son tidy up, washed his hands, and stepped out of the bathroom refreshed and ready to take on the world. The masked guard led Jasmine and her son through a zigzag of corridors before finally reaching their destination: a lone office in a dimly lit hallway. A bald, clean-shaven man in a dark blue suit opened his door for them and invited them inside. Before Jasmine stepped through it, she whispered in her son’s ear.
" B-e-h-a-v-e. " She slowly sounded out each letter to emphasize her seriousness, and her son nodded, confirming he understood the message. The bald man pulled out two chairs in front of his wooden desk and gestured for his guests to sit down. Jasmine and her son took a seat, and the masked guard took a watchful stance at the back of the office.
“I know all these security guards and overall security measures are probably a bit…...overwhelming, but trust me, they’re for a good reason.” The bald man reassured with a toothy smile. “My name is Jacob by the way, Jacob Stallings.” He extended his arm for a handshake, and Jasmine was about to grab it when a horrific scream startled her.
“Quit playing with me! I swear to God I’ll air this whole building out!” someone shouted at the top of their lungs. Jasmine looked around but couldn’t decipher where the voice emanated from; no one was nearby. Jacob quickly solved that mystery for her.
“That’s probably from the next hallway over. It happens all the time. You kind of get used to it with a job like this. People are always yelling and hurling threats at Superact Inspectors, and sometimes it leads to physical violence, but it doesn’t bother me at all.” Jacob said with a carefree shrug.
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“Uh…okay,” Jasmine awkwardly replied as she shook his hand. It was overly lotioned and very sweaty. Jasmine rubbed her hand on her pant leg to get rid of the moisture.
Jacob shuffled a few papers on his desk and hit a few keys on his keyboard. The large computer on his desk looked expensive and occupied a lot of space. Before the disaster, Jasmine had been saving up to buy a similar, more reasonably priced one, but that was a dream now long gone.
“I have some information on file, but I want to make sure it’s up-to-date and factual. I’m going to ask you a series of questions. You can reply with yes or no.”
“Is your name Jasmine Banks?”
“Yes.”
“Were you born in Chicago, Illinois, on April 20th, 1980?”
“Yes.”
“Do you currently have a fixed mailing address?”
“No.”
“Did you previously reside in the now destroyed Cabrini–Green Homes?”
“Yes.”
“Are you an Aberrant?”
“No.”
“Is your son, Tayvon Banks, an Aberrant?"
“No.”
“Was your now deceased husband, Richard Banks, an Aberrant?"
“No.”
“Do you know of any Aberrants that resided in the Cabrini–Green Homes?”
“No.”
“Is anyone in your family an Aberrant?”
“No…well…actually…I don’t know. That’s not a question I can really answer.”
“Thank you for that information.” Jacob typed something on his keyboard and glanced away from his computer screen. “What documents did you bring with you today?”
Jasmine scooped her purse off the floor and grabbed her binder, proudly displaying it with a grin. “I brought everything, and I mean everything.”
Jacob didn’t share her enthusiasm. He blinked, uncaring, and asked her to hand over what she had. He slowly combed through the binder, pulling out forms and essential documents. He mumbled under his breath as he worked.
“Your A-T10 looks good. Your 9JC is up to date. Your X7Y was filled out properly. Your UW8 is splendid,” Jacob rambled. The more he whispered, the higher Jasmine’s hope rose. Today would be the day.
“Everything looks to be in order,” Jacob announced as he finally finished sorting through everything. Jasmine smiled, but his following words twisted her face into a frown. “But unfortunately, you’re missing a key document.”
“What? Are you serious?” Jasmine said in disbelief.
“Yes, I’m one hundred percent serious. Your original claim was filed on August 17th, 2006, two days after Knightfall’s clash with Incidios. Today is March 15th, 2007, and an HW4 still hasn’t been filed. An HW5 was filed, but not an HW4.”
“What’s an HW4?” Jasmine asked frustratedly. “And what’s the difference between an HW4 and an HW5?”
“An HW4 is a form that details the levels of radiation found at a particular location during a Superact. If you’re unaware, a Superact is legally defined by the United States government as any act committed by a superhero while stopping a crime or saving a life. Your district’s Alderman failed to file an HW4 on your behalf, which would’ve documented the radiation levels in the Cabrini–Green housing projects after Incidios was defeated.”
Jasmine cursed under her breath. “Following TOSI’s procedural guidelines, I contacted my district’s Alderman numerous times, but she never mentioned an HW4. I also contacted several Superact Inspectors by phone and email, and no one ever mentioned an HW4 to me. No one notified me that anything was missing from my claim each time I reached out. I have the proof.”
Jasmine grabbed her binder off Jacob’s desk and searched for a paper she’d held onto for months. Jacob seemed clueless about it, so it was apparent he hadn’t removed it from her binder. Jasmine pulled out the paper and placed it on Jacob’s desk after she located it.
“From the initial date of my claim, this is the list of things I was told I needed. I wrote down the names of the employees I spoke to, their badge numbers, and the dates when they relayed this information to me. I also noted the number of times I contacted my district’s Alderman. I kept a very detailed list.” Jasmine said contemptuously. She held the paper up so Jacob could see it clearly. “I wrote down over one hundred items, in alphabetical order, and an HW4 was never mentioned or spoken of.”
Jacob opened a drawer in his desk, put on his reading glasses, and snatched the paper from Jasmine’s hand. He read over it in silence. The list was amazingly detailed, and her handwriting was superb, but it wouldn’t change her situation.
“I’m sorry, but as impressive as your organizational skills are, this paper isn’t proof of anything; it’s not an official document, and you still need an HW4. You don’t appear to be at fault in this situation, but the rules are the rules.”
Jasmine inhaled and exhaled, tapped her foot on the ground, and tried to remain calm. “Okay, I understand that, but what can I do? I came here today to see how my claim is progressing. The things I was told over the phone and through emails obviously weren’t true, and I would’ve remained clueless if we hadn’t had this meeting in person. All the paperwork I previously sent and the ones I brought today feel pointless. I can’t afford to leave here empty-handed. An HW4 can’t be filled out now?”
Jacob cocked his head like an owl, eyeing Jasmine curiously as if she’d suddenly grown two heads. “No,” he said crudely. “Unless your Alderman can somehow go back in time, no one can document the radiation levels on August 15th after Incidios was defeated.”
“But what about the rest of my claim? I have dozens of other documents. One of those can’t be used in place of an HW4?”
Jacob scoffed. “That’s not how this works. Without all the necessary documents, your claim won’t move an inch. That’s the reason why your claim hasn’t progressed in months.”
“Well, like you just said, it’s basically impossible for me to get an HW4 now, so that means –”
“- Your claim is stuck in limbo.” Jacob finished her sentence. “Your claim would’ve been much easier to process if it didn’t involve an Aberrant, but Aberrants are overly abundant these days. The government estimates that one in every four people has superpowers now. Ever since Y2K, things have really gotten out of hand.”
Jacob’s words were like background noise and didn’t even register in Jasmine’s mind. Her thoughts were now focused on more dire matters. How would she feed and clothe her son? How would she take care of herself? Where would she stay? She’d been banking on her claim getting processed today. Even if her claim had been accepted, she wouldn’t have received any money immediately, but those future funds would’ve allowed her to take out loans and survive until the relief money hit her bank account. But now she had nothing: no money, no hope, just utter disappointment.
Jasmine glanced down at her son, who was silently playing with his Knightfall toy. He was in his own world, totally oblivious to everything going on. He’d endured so much trauma over these past few months, but his childhood innocence remained. Jasmine needed this money for his sake and resolved to do whatever was necessary to obtain it.
“Jacob, do you have kids?” Jasmine suddenly asked.
“I do, but I don’t see the relevance right now.”
“You would do anything for your kids, right?”
“What parent wouldn’t?”
“Exactly, any parent would do whatever is necessary to provide for their child. Now, put yourself in my shoes and imagine how I feel as a parent when you tell me that my claim can’t be processed because of something that wasn’t my fault. My husband died during Knightfall’s fight with Incidios; our home was destroyed, my car was destroyed, and lots of my friends died. I can’t even count the number of people I know who lost their lives. That doesn’t even include the amount of people who had life-changing injuries. I got injured, too, but it was just a concussion and a twisted ankle for me. I lost practically everything, and I’m one of the lucky survivors!”
“That’s heartbreaking, it truly is, and I’m sorry for your loss, but –”
“- But you don’t really care,” Jasmine interrupted, realizing she wasn’t getting through to him. Jacob’s words were as empty as the look on his face.
“No, I really empathize with you, I swear,” Jacob declared, but his lack of emotion betrayed him. “Unfortunately, every claim can’t get processed due to any number of reasons. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.”
“I understand,” Jasmine said, balling her fists underneath the table.
“You…you do?” Jacob asked in surprise. “I really appreciate that. Sometimes applicants can take things personally and –”
“- No,” Jasmine cut Jacob off. “I mean, I understand why y’all have all this damn security in this building. Y’all push people to their limits and waste their time. You make them fill out ridiculous amounts of paperwork and play with their emotions just to deny their claims. On top of that, y’all only have one TOSI building in the entire state of Illinois, making it damn near impossible to get a scheduled appointment. You only allow people to do walk-ins one day a month. Really and truly, y’all could’ve just told me this bullshit over the phone.” Jasmine angrily folded her arms over her chest as she finished her rant.
“Ma’am, your frustration is understandable, but you still have an available option. You can file a complaint with our customer service department.”
“I won’t fill out another piece of paperwork!” Jasmine yelled, nearly out of breath. She was at her wit’s end. “You and your fellow Superact Inspectors read all the documents related to my claim. Knightfall could have easily taken his fight with Incidios somewhere else, but he didn’t. That idiot chose to fight in my neighborhood and ruined a bunch of lives. I can't sue him because super heroes have qualified immunity thanks to the government. At the very least, I should be able to get some money from the Superacts Fund, which my taxes help support, but no. My claim can’t be processed due to something completely out of my control. This is straight-up bullshit!” Jasmine grabbed her purse off the ground. It was time for her to leave before she lost her temper and caused a scene.
“Ma’am, your claim hasn’t been denied; it just can’t move forward. There’s still a -”
“- Nah, nah, nah,” Jasmine wagged her finger from side to side. “TOSI and my Alderman spun me around in circles for months. At this point, I don’t even care anymore. I know I’m on my own now. I’ll figure some shit out, no thanks to y’all.” She shot Jacob a vicious glare, grabbed her son’s hand, and prepared to leave.
Jacob returned her documents to her binder, stood up, and walked to the door. He opened it for Jasmine and placed her binder in her open hand. “The security guard in my office will walk you out. It’s just standard procedure. Have a nice day.” Jacob smiled, but as soon as she left the room, Jasmine overheard his conversation with the security guard, who was still inside. Jacob told the masked security guard to make sure she didn’t return. Jacob claimed she was one of the rejected applicants who might get violent.
“You know how people from that kind of area can be.”
Jasmine was furious but couldn’t help but laugh at those words. She was one of the most levelheaded people in her family; it took a lot to rile her up. Her twin sister, though, was a loose cannon. She would’ve given Jacob a real reason to worry. The security guard stepped out of the office and started leading her toward the exit. It was a long maze-like walk, but it gave Jasmine time to gather her thoughts and contemplate her limited options.
“Momma, are you okay?” Tae Tae asked as he tugged on her pants. He could sense her sadness.
Jasmine reached down and patted his head reassuringly. Her son didn’t need to know the truth, so she lied, repeating the exact words she’d told him when their home had been destroyed. “Everything’s fine, baby.”