When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. A mysterious evil has begun to whisper promises of an unthinkable danger to the powers of the National Heroes League. Preparations are underway and none are more eager for the battle to begin than the mighty Maple Leafs.

“I got it!” Morgan Rielly yells out as he races through the hall of Toronto Maple Leaf Tower. Players and trainers alike jump to get out of his way. “I got it! I got it!”

The ‘it’ in this case being a pixie which has been wreaking havoc in the tower for the past few days. The little fey jerk has been leaving taps running; breaking light bulbs; and even pooping in the team hummus. That was the final straw for head coach Mike Babcock. He generally has an appreciation for the magical nature of fey creatures, but nobody ruins his hummus. He had set the team to scouring the tower to seek and destroy. Taking his own initiative, Morgan has captured the creature alive. It wasn’t easy, he needed the help of a powerful mage. Luckily Freddie Andersen is one of the most powerful mages on the planet. Freddie made Morgan a cage the pixie couldn’t escape from and now Morgan is fulfilling his side of the bargain by returning the tiny, furiously struggling, creature back to the mage.

“I got it! I got it!” Morgan tears down the hallway towards Freddie’s study. As usual the stone door of the magical chamber appears without warning, swinging open quickly enough for Morgan to pass through. The Leaf slams the cage down on the rooms sturdy wooden desk and leans on it. After the frantic capture and ensuing race Morgan takes a moment to catch his breath before he opens his eyes.

“That’s perfect.” Freddy smiles but isn’t looking at his teammate. “Hi there little one.”

Approaching the cage, Freddie reaches out and puts his finger through the bars. The pixie leaps at the digit with claws and teeth bared. As razor sharp talons clamp onto Freddie’s finger the pixie’s mouth opens wide. The exposed teeth glisten with poisonous vitriol and the pixie bites down with triumphant glee.

With neither sound nor gesture, the Toronto Maple Leafs mage summons lighting through his finger. The pixie is fried and entirely immolated and the small punctures from it’s claws are cauterized leaving behind the the acrid stink of burnt blood.

“Perfect.” Freddie says, still smiling.

Morgan is shocked but everything happens so fast that it is over before he can respond. He watches as Freddie carefully lifts the crispy corpse out of the cage and drops it in to a stone bowl. With practiced ease the mage crushes the burnt fey flesh and bone into a fine powder.

“What are you going to do with that?” Morgan asks.

“It’s pixie dust.” Freddie says, somewhat surprised to have to explain. He takes a small pinch and sprinkles it on Morgans head. “Think happy thoughts.”

The pure joy that defines Morgans face as he begins to fly is priceless.

When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. A mysterious evil has begun to whisper promises of an unthinkable danger to the powers of the National Heroes League. Preparations have begun and none are more eager for the battle to begin than the mighty Maple Leafs.

Auston Matthews waits patiently, knowing that his moment is bound to present itself. The training session is turning into a bit of a farce. Dressing an enraged hippo cow in formal evening attire is exactly as difficult as it sounds. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, except that the Leafs had been instructed not to use any powers. Certainly, Wily Nylander wouldn’t be getting kicked across the training arena if he was using his mesmerizing aura to confound the wild creature.

Auston moves quickly to catch Wily before he collides with the arena wall. He doesn’t use any powers, he is just that fast and strong.

“Don’t get that mustache on me.” Wily laughs.

Auston laughs too. His mustache is divine and he knows it. “This is getting ridiculous. It’s time to finish it.” Auston strides toward the hippo. “Alright darling, Papi is done playing.”

Morgan Rielly is the only Leaf still challenging the massive snorting heap of muscle. His technopathic super powers don’t help him directly in combat so he is less uncomfortable than his teammates. Using the distraction to his advantage, Auston dashes in close to the hippo and wraps his arms around its neck. The quick maneuver lends momentum to Auston’s tremendous frame and he flips over and around, tightening his headlock and actually staggering the creature. Morgan steps in and shoulder checks the unbalanced hulk and knocks the hippo off her feet. Auston shifts his grip into a sleeper hold and after about fifteen minutes the hippo finally stops struggling.

“Crap.” Morgan says, as he moves to complete the mission.

“What’s the problem?” Auston is exhausted but it doesn’t show.

“She crushed the lipstick.” Morgan points to the bright red smear on the hippo’s foot.

“Crap.” Auston says, hating to lose even in training.

When humanity is threatened only the super-powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. A mysterious evil has begun to whisper promises of an unthinkable danger to the powers of the National Heroes League. Preparations have begun and none are more eager for the battle to begin than the mighty Maple Leafs.

“That’s not fair.” The last Mitch Marner says. All the other Mitches have been encased in solid blocks of ice by John Tavares. “Can you let us out?”

“Sorry Mitch.” John says with a shrug. “It doesn’t work that way. Once I make the ice it’s just… well… ice.”

“But I can’t even touch myself.” Mitch doesn’t elaborate because he knows that John knows that he needs to make physical contact with his copies to return them into himself. “That was totally not fair and you know it.”

“How was it not fair?” John asks.

“I can totally make more copies.” Says Mitch.

“And I can freeze you solid.” John holds Mitch with his steely gaze. “Coach said only twenty copies for you and I could only go to minus fifteen. Next time try to get a little more creative.”

“You want to go again while all the me’s thaw out?” Mitch is never bummed for long and his trademark grin almost gets John to agree. Almost.

“Sorry, I’m gonna go video chat with my new baby.” John turns to leave before he can see Mitch roll his eyes.

New Leaf, Jason Spezza, takes the opportunity to approach his young teammate.

“I’ll spar with you, if you’d like.” Jason is eager to prove his worth and isn’t afraid to wear that eagerness plainly.

“Yeah okay.” Mitch says. “It’s wyrd that you’re a Leaf.”

When humanity is threatened only the super powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. As the summer begins to fade and the days get shorter anticipation begins to boil. As broken hearts mend and line up to be broken all over again there is a new peace that settles over the nation as the time has come to begin a new quest.

“I found it! I found it!” Mitch Marner runs yelling into the Toronto Maple Leafs practice arena. “I found my sign guys, I’m ready to meet my destiny!”

His teammates all look over at Mitch and smile. None of them expected any different. Of course Mitch would find his sign in time. None of them ever doubted it. And now that the saga has ended, the real journey can begin.

“Hey that’s great Mitch.” Mike Babcock smiles to see one of his favourite weapons eager to go. “Okay, let’s get at it gentlemen.”

No one knows what the future holds, but as the Leafs begin their deadly mission once again, they know that whatever they have to face they will face together.

(Editors Note: Holy heck am I glad the contract stuff is over for a minute. Just in time for the preseason we can all relax with trying to figure out the salary cap and enjoy a GREAT young team. Go Leafs! Go!)

When humanity is threatened only the super powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. As the summer begins to fade and the days get shorter anticipation begins to boil. As broken hearts mend and line up to be broken all over again there are still some things undone, some conflicts holding out against logic and resolution. For one ostensible Leaf the conflict is immediate. 

Mitch Marner stares at the three gems in front of him, still and silent as he has been for the last  few hours? Days? Mitch is not sure how long he’s been in the cavern, what he is sure of is that he is taking a gem. He just can’t decide which. The stones are beautiful but that is beside the point. The point is power as it always is and each of these gems gleams with the promise of power. Still searching for the sign that will guide his fate for the next few years, Mitch does not have time to squander on frivolity but he does not rush his choice.

The red gem will give his attack abilities added flame damage. The blue gem will grant near immunity to electric damage. The green gem will enhance his evasion abilities beyond his already impressive level. All useful power boosts, but Mitch can only take one. It is a difficult choice.

Several times already Mitch has picked up his phone to call his friends and teammates on the Toronto Maple Leafs. Each time he has stopped himself before dialing. It has been a long summer of solitude for Mitch. Of course he’s been keeping up to date on all the happenings in the wider world, but he has felt like an outsider looking in as opposed to being directly involved. the hardest part has been watching friends leave. He can’t help but wonder if he had found his sign sooner maybe things would be different.

Those are the thoughts Mitch works to ignore. It is no good wondering how things might be different. Things are what they are. Mitch hasn’t found his sign yet. He thought it would be simple but it isn’t. He still has complete faith, it’s the patience that occasionally eludes him. These thoughts run through his mind a million times as he picks up each gem one at a time and studies it. Eventually he will have to make a choice.

Even if he could slot more than one gem at a time, he still needs to choose since the ritual protecting the cavern for millenia will only allow a single gem to pass the seal on the entry. Worse, once he leaves the cavern it will drift to a new plane of existence never to return. So Mitch stares at the gems hoping that one of them will call out to him.

The fleeting worry that he might end up shifting to another plane himself if he takes too long has Mitch sweating. He knows that there is little chance of that. He knows that his bond to this reality is strong. It would take a misstep of insane and gargantuan proportions for Mitch to end up in any other world. But fear does strange things over time. Mitch shakes his head as if the act would remove his doubts. If only he had found his sign already. Or perhaps the sign has been in him the whole time. Perhaps his truth has always belonged to him, has always been his to determine. Time is an illusion, a construct designed to contain the eternal flow of energy through space, but it is not eternal.

[Editors Note: I did not want to keep writing Mitch stories ALL SUMMER! I honestly thought I might get three or four. Please just put us out of our misery Mitch. PLEASE!!!!]

When humanity is threatened only the super powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. But can the Maple Leafs be counted on? Time will answer all questions. But not yet, not for a long while.

Mitch Marner is snoozing on the roof of a rec center in the small west central Ontario town of Eastwall. The summer sun hides behind a brace of clouds which makes the day ideal for wasting. Mitch sleeps fitfully, as he has each night for weeks. He’s woken by the sound of children laughing. Crawling to the edge of the roof, Mitch peeks over but can’t see the kids.

“You wouldn’t last one minute out there.” One voice asserts.

“I’d stay out longer then you could.” A second youthful voice answers in rebuttal.

“Prove it.” The first voice demands. There is a moment of tense silence that follows, like when a gun gets dropped and everybody waits to see if it will go off.

“How?” The second voice can barely muster the courage to ask the question.

“What d’ya mean how? Stay out by The Pit for the night.” The first sneers.

“Alone?” The second squeaks.

“Of course alone, unless you’re chicken.” The second voice mumbles a response to this which clearly amuses the first. “Well Gary’s older brother was always a pussy, no matter what got him. Whatever, I knew you’d bitch out. Lets go to my house and play video games.”

Two little boys race through the parking lot and run across the street without even a glance for traffic. Mitch shakes his head at the lunatic freedom of youth. He was like that once, but the caution that comes with age has been earned the hard way. Now Mitch looks left, right, up, down and, sideways. Every choice requires deliberation, every step deserves measured consideration.

When he started his quest he had expected a quick resolution, or at least hoped for one. As the days of summer slide by he has accepted that he may not find the sign that he seeks. Signs are all around him though and Mitch follows them. Today it seems the universe is pointing him to a mysterious pit. With an open heart he begins to search the woods around Eastwall. He splits into eight Mitches and sweeps the forest for anything resembling a pit. As dusk settles in a Mitch finds it, a path leading to a hole in the forest floor that swallows light and spits back a darkness that strikes at Mitch’s heart. The Mitches converge and meld into a singularity. Then he sits down and waits.

What is Mitch waiting for? He isn’t certain, but he listens to his instincts. The night settles into a gentle normalcy that makes Mitch doubt his purpose here. Kids make up stories all the time, maybe that’s all this is, a myth started by older boys to keep the younger ones out of the way. An hour after midnight, just as Mitch determines that there is nothing, something happens. He almost doesn’t notice at first because it’s subtle, but a glowing pale light shimmers deep in the heart of the pit. With a long steady breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, Mitch plunges into the deeper blackness underground.

The dark closes in on him with a weight that would crush a lesser man. But Mitch is a hero. The noises in the dark threaten to distract him, shift his purpose. Echoes of his inner turmoil bounce off the cave walls to tease him with stories that only fools or idiots would credit. Though he does not encourage these fantasies he cannot help but be mesmerized by the stupidity. Without noticing, Mitch has stopped moving, all his will focused on filtering out the noise until only reality is left. His task and his quest merge into this single moment. The sign he seeks is close, a few steps away perhaps. But he is patient and will not allow his fear to accept a sign that does not fit the power of his mighty spirit. When Mitch gets signed by the sign that belongs to him that signing will reverberate throughout the cosmos. Nothing less will do.

The glow flickers briefly once more and Mitch speeds up. He splits into thirty Mitches and grasps the shoulder of the Mitch to his left and his right. The Mitches move in a mass, like an ooze flowing through the dark tunnel filling every cranny. The pale glow is sporadic but it is unmistakable. The Mitches quicken their pace, knowing that they are close, then three of him are falling. In his haste Mitch ran into a crack in the floor of the cave. The Mitches are too far apart to recombine and the hole is deep enough that he falls for nearly two full minutes. When they do land the splat is mercifully instantaneous. Mitch still feels three individual deaths though, like he does every time. Worse then the sudden peek into entropy is the knowledge that whatever is down here, it’s not the sign that Mitch has been looking for.

The twenty seven remaining Mitches split in two and fifty four Mitches spend the next hour blocking off the tunnel. He doesn’t even care to see what causes the glow, some vindictive spirit or an unstable portal, it doesn’t matter as long as no one falls into the hole anymore. The legend will still keep kids awake at night and if there is any real danger the Toronto Maple Leafs will end it.

Disappointed, Mitch reverts to a singularity and curls up for a few hours of uncomfortable rest. He wakes before the dawn and finds his way back to the road. An early bird whistles a sweet greeting and Mitch feels his positive energy growing. Maybe today will be the day.

When humanity is threatened only the super powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. But can the Maple Leafs be counted on? Time will answer all questions. But not yet, not for a long while.

Mitch Marner lies in the tall grass with his eyes closed, the warm sun and the gentle breeze work together to ensure his complete and utter contentment. Mitch is playing a game to help strengthen his control over his perceived reality. It’s simpler than it sounds, with his eyes closed Mitch visualizes a specific cloud. He creates the cloud completely in his imagination, feels the shade of it even, then he opens his eyes. So far he’s actualized a half dozen clouds, which is amazingly good even though Mitch is always pushing for more.

The day is young and the sun is bright and the world is making no demands on the hero. His quest is nearing an end, he can feel it. Mitch has been searching for a sign for what feels like an eternity even though it hasn’t even been three months. It is a sign that will set the course of his life’s journey so he hasn’t allowed himself the luxury of relaxing, but sometimes the call of nature cannot be ignored. Today is such a day and the voice of the gentle breeze as it glides through the long grass says Rest a while. 

Mitch may have been laying in this spot for one hour or seven, it makes no difference. He has found a deep, near trance like, state of total peace yet it is not enough to keep back a sense of annoyance when a presence enters his perception. He doesn’t hear or see anything, he just feels an approaching power, striding ever closer like a looming thunderhead heavy with the promise of a storm. At first Mitch tries to ignore it, hoping the presence will grant him the same courtesy. It takes an awkwardly long time for Mitch to realize he recognizes this power. Jumping to his feet Mitch turns as a large black wolf, graying around the ears and mouth, steps out from behind some dense brush.

The wolf walks toward Mitch with eyes locked on the young hero. Mitch grins and waits. After a few steps the air around the wolf shimmers. It takes less than one minute for the wolf to veer completely into Patrick Marleau, one of the greatest men Mitch has ever known. Naked, Patrick reaches Mitch and shakes his hand.

“Want some pants?”Mitch asks.

“It’s okay.” Patrick grins and raises his arms in a wide stretch. “I like the breeze. Besides I won’t be here long, just wanted to make sure I caught you before…”

“Before you leave.” Mitch finishes the sentence for him.

“Nothing is certain.” Patrick says. “But yeah, I’m probably moving soon. It just the way the business works.”

“Don’t give me that business crap.” Mitch can’t help but get a little heated. “Your whole family is moving with you. That’s life man, that’s not business. Why are you going? Did you ask them or did they ask you?”

Patrick doesn’t answer for a while. When he finally does he can’t bring himself to look at his young friend, staring instead at the clouds.

“You have been seeking your sign for a while now.” Patrick speaks so softly that the words are almost lost in the gentle hiss of the wind. “But I wonder if you’ve seen the opportunity you have. Life and business are separate things, you say. Well now is your chance to choose between them. You can choose to defy those who say that your value can be derived from an equation. Business is all about math and odds and asset management. Life is about living each moment as the best version of yourself that you can stand. So what can you stand Mitch? Can you stand to show the world what value really means, show them true greatness. That is the chance you have. That is the call that all before you have resisted and scorned. I was never strong enough to answer that call. Can you be?”

Mitch stares at the clouds a long time, lost in thought. He doesn’t try to control them anymore, his soul is focused on absorbing the words of his friend and sometimes mentor. By the time he answers, “I don’t know.” Patrick, the wolf, is long gone.

When humanity is threatened only the super powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. But can the Maple Leafs be counted on? Time will answer all questions. But not yet, not for a long while.

The sun begins to set on the long and dusty road. Alone with his self, Mitch Marner walks into the darkness pondering the value of his quest. Will he ever find the sign that he has been dreaming of, and if he doesn’t, how can he go back. The simple answer is that he can never go back. But life is never simple, even for the great and the powerful.

Mitch is conflicted. He knows what he wants but he also knows what is expected of him. How can following your heart be the right thing when it leads to so many people feeling hurt? Mitch doesn’t have any answers, all he has is questions, so he walks and he watches for a sign. He knows he will take a sign to the face any day now and he is eager to get the signing done with. Eager to move forward. As the darkness thickens Mitch decides that forward progress can wait. Hard to see a sign when you can’t even see your hand in front of your face. Stepping off the road into the ditch, our hero finds a small dry spot under a bush and curls up for a few hours of rest.

A high pitched whimper brings Mitch out of a strange dream and into a cold and wet dawn. A light drizzle has managed to saturate every stitch of clothing Mitch has, so it is a cold and wet Marner that stretches, getting up slowly to listen for the source of the noise. It is sporadic and soft enough that it almost blends into the typical noises of wild, except that in between the soft shushing of the leaves in the breeze is a discordant note. Mitch follows the sound until he comes to the base of a large old willow tree. The noise is coming from a deep hole in the roots of the tree. Peering in, Mitch sees a small puppy, scrambling to keep its head above the mud that is slowly filling the hole.

Mitch reaches down and lifts the puppy out of the mud. “Here you go buddy, You’re okay.” Reaching into his bag, Mitch pulls out his towel and wraps it around the dog. What he thought was a puppy turns out to be a mini Pinscher, fully grown but tiny. He snuggles the pooch close in an effort to warm it up. “There there, you’re okay.”

“Thank you.” The dog replies.

Mitch stares, shaking off his incredulity. He looks closely at the dog, who returns his intense regard with a serene coyness. Mitch can’t find anything about the animal that would indicate any sort of mutation or augmentation. Almost instantly he decides that he likes this dog and accepts that he would like a new best friend.

“I’m Mitch.” He says with a smile. “You’re very special. What should I call you?”

“Why thank you.” The dog replies, grinning. “My name is Zoeastrozalerastallentromathadan. You may call me Zoe.” She lowers her head in a dignified bow.

“Zoe.” Mitch smiles. “I’m special too, would you like to see?”

Instead of speaking, Zoe wriggles out of the towel and scampers away to sit in a puddle, staring at Mitch with her tail wagging hard enough to make a wake. Mitch stands and rolls his shoulders twice, then he splits into two Mitches.

“Whoa!” Zoe is shocked, and shocking a talking dog is not easy.

They spend the rest of the otherwise dreary morning playing tag or hide and seek, jumping in puddles and generally  frolicking along the road. Mitch stays mostly the in the singular, only pinching off a few copies to surprise or delight Zoe occasionally. The time passes swiftly. The drizzle briefly becomes a rain before the clouds slack off and the pair sit down for a small lunch as the sun finally decides to peek out.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” Mitch asks.

Zoe tilts her head and waits. Her tail wags which shakes her tongue. Her eyes are deep wells of primal compassion that look ready to pop off her tiny head at any moment. Mitch can feel the love building between them. He didn’t even know he wanted a companion on his signing quest, but he does. He clears his throat and the moment almost becomes awkward.

“Would you like to be my best friend and come with me as I wander the long and lonely road? I’ll buy salami.”

Zoe tilts her head the other way. Her smile fades. “I am sorry Mitch, I cannot be your companion on the lonely road you travel. I have my own work to do. For three years I have wandered this planet. Three of my years, so about six months on this Earth of yours. And in that time I have not met anyone with the kindness and open joy that you have displayed today. You have swayed my heart. I must return to my home world and do everything I can to stop the invasion of your planet before it is devoured by my empire. Wish me luck human.” A portal opens and the dog steps through, disappearing before Mitch can move.

“Good luck saving the world, I’ll miss you.” A single tear builds up in Mitch’s eye. He just carries it, a precious memory that he refuses to brush away.

When humanity is threatened only the super powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. But can the Maple Leafs be counted on? Time will answer all questions. But not yet, not for a long while.

In a small town far to the West of Toronto there is a colourful lollipop shop with the delightful name of Get Suckered. Mitch Marner stands outside the store front staring at the sign on the door. It states clearly that the shop ought to be open but the lights are out and the door is locked. Taking a deep breath, Mitch allows his frustration to make itself known and then he breathes again and lets his frustration go. There are many reasons why the store might be closed, just as there are many ways to achieve a goal.

Casually, the hero strolls around the block taking in the sleepy town. In the twenty odd minutes it takes Mitch to complete his circuit he has seen no people and no cars aside from the parked ones. Whistling, Mitch spits out a copy then leans against the door of shop while his copy darts around to the back. Behind the lollipop shop Mitch finds the cleanest dumpster in the history of garbage. Jumping onto the dumpster, he then splits into two more Mitches. One Mitch stands on his shoulders while the second Mitch scrambles up the makeshift ladder to the roof. Once all three Mitches are up they coalesce into a singularity and Mitch creeps close to the buildings large skylight. He peers into deep darkness, leaning close to the glass. A shape seems to shift slightly like a shadow getting darker, then an eye blinks.

It takes Mitch a moment to register what he has seen. The eye was the size of a frying pan and blacker than the surrounding shadows of the pitch black lollipop shop, but shiny. Whatever the eye belongs to, it’s big and Mitch quickly decides that it’s up to no good. The hero smashes through the skylight and rips off three copies as he drops.

“Mitch, Get the lights!” Mitch shouts as he lands. “Mitch, unlock the door. And Mitch, you’re with me.” The Mitches split up and for a tense and quiet moment nothing exciting happens. Then everything happens at once.

Mitch finds the light switch a the same time that Mitch throws open the door. The shop is flooded with light revealing a giant centipede rearing up to strike at Mitch. Before any of the Mitches can react Mitch is plucked up by the huge bugs revolting pincer jaws. Mitch hammers his fists into the centipede’s hard armoured head to no effect. The beast whips its long body around and as it does Mitch is sliced in two, the pieces flying across the shop.

Each Mitch feels the pincers as they slice through his flesh and crush his bones apart with ease. Each Mitch feels the heat leave his body and his legs disappear. The feeling is gone as soon it begins, the same way it happens every time one of his copies dies, but he hasn’t gotten used to it. The Mitches pull out their knives and pile onto the monstrous bug stabbing it and slashing at its legs. One Mitch jumps on its back and pries up an exoskeletal plate, shoving his blade deep into the meaty thorax beneath. Mitch takes a centipede foot through his eye and his impaled corpse dangles from the monsters writhing body. Mitch gets thrown across the room and shatters three vertebrae on the counter while his artery is sliced open on the glass, he bleeds out before any Mitch can get him resorbed. But the Mitches keep splitting into more Mitches and soon there are sixteen of them surrounding the giant centipede, stabbing it long after it stops writhing.

Reverting to a singularity, Mitch takes a few minutes to look through the few undamaged shelves left in Get Suckered. He eventually settles on a green apple and cherry swirl and gets to work on a lollipop larger around than his head. He leaves the door to the shop open and strolls along the road licking his lolli. It’s a delicious candy but Mitch knows it is not what he was looking for.

Mitch is searching for a sign, and he cannot return to his beloved Toronto Maple Leafs until he finds it. So he walks on down the road further from the man he’s known and closer to the fate he’s always known was his due. No one can tell Mitch what form the sign will take. No one can say if it will be one sign or several. Mitch tries not to think about it too much, focusing instead on being mindful of the present. As long as getting signed isn’t as painful as getting bitten in half by a giant centipede Mitch should be okay.

When humanity is threatened only the super powered might of the Toronto Maple Leafs can be counted on to save the day. But can the Maple Leafs be counted on? Time will answer all questions. But not yet, not for a long while.

Mitch Marner walks alone because he wants to. His super power allows him to make as many copies of himself as he would like. Usually Mitch likes having a few more Mitches around just to shoot the breeze and share a few laughs with. Today is different,  the last few days have been different. Ever since the Toronto Maple Leafs were handed another defeat by the dirty Boston Bruins the clock has been ticking for the young Leaf.

Everyone wants to know what choice Mitch will make, what direction he will go. Everyone thinks they know what is in Mitch’s heart but not even Mitch knows for sure. that is why he walks along the long, lonely, dusty road. Mitch is looking for a sign. What form that sign may take is beyond him. Is it a number? Is it a letter? Maybe the sign will be the way a bird flies across a particularly beautiful cloud. Mitch doesn’t know so he walks and he looks. That’s why Mitch is alone, so that he won’t get distracted and miss the sign. The solitude also gives Mitch chance to think about all the things he could have done better and how he’ll do them better if, and when, he gets the chance. Even super heroes get down on themselves sometimes, and Mitch has been feeling low, but he is done with that now. With each step forward Mitch walks  further away from self pity and self doubt. With each step Mitch gets closer to seeing the sign, and Mitch is ready to get signed right in the face.

But he walks all day and nothing happens so as night falls Mitch walks to a small farm not far from the road. The roof of the barn collapsed so long ago that grass has grown over the wounds, but a well kept garden and a fenced in paddock or chicken coop show signs of recent care. The farmhouse is more of a shack, but light shines out from the single window so Mitch approaches and knocks on the door. The person who answers is so aged as to appear genderless.

“Hello?” The timid greeting creaks from a voice as withered as the faded paint of the homes sun bleached siding. “Go away.”

“I’m sorry for bothering you.” Mitch says. “I was hoping to find a place to sleep for the night. I don’t need much, maybe I could just curl up in a shed or the old barn or something.”

“Hmmm.” The farmer squints hard at Mitch. “You the one stealing my chickens? No, you’s just a runty little slinker, you didn’t steal no chickens. Tell you what, catch whoever’s been stealing my dear little chicks an’ I’ll let you sleep in the barn for as long as you need. Maybe even feed ya some, get a little gristle on them skinny bones.”

“Thanks.” Mitch says after only a tiny hesitation. “I’ll try to find out who is taking your chickens I guess.”

The door shuts quickly and Mitch hears the farmer cursing as they shuffle away. Slightly more amused than confused, Mitch splits into two more Mitches.

“Looks like we’re on guard duty.” Mitch says.

“I’ll hide up in that tree.” Mitch answers, pointing to an old elm tree.

“Great, I can probably get a good view from the other side of the house.” Mitch suggests.

“I guess that leaves me watching from up the hill.” Mitch says with a sigh.

The Mitches get into position as the daylight begins to fade. Stars pop out one by one and the noises of the evening settle into a rhythm that threatens to lull the erstwhile guardians to sleep. Minutes seem to stretch out into endless moments, each frozen and irrefutable, teasing the senses until its impossible to discern the past from the present. Mitch yawns from where he watches, laying down on the crest of the hill by the road. A sudden movement from the coop grabs his attention. A shadow seems to bulge out from the door of the supposedly looked coop, not trying to get in but sneaking out.

Mitch can see his copies watching as well while the hen looks about the farm yard. Slowly the chicken slips from the coop. It reaches the barbed wire fence and again stops to look around the yard. After a few moments the chicken reaches out a wing and lifts up the barbed wire with no apparent concern for the sharp metal piercing her soft plump flesh.

The hen ducks under the wire and slides free of the only life she has ever known. Mitch watches as the entirety of possibility seems to settle onto the determined hens shoulders. She pauses again on the outside of the coop and seems to steel herself for whatever intent has driven her to flee. She starts walking straight toward the hill where Mitch is hidden. For a moment he thinks the bird is headed directly for him, then he realizes her determined beak is set for a point just beyond, she is heading for the road.

The Mitch in the tree and the Mitch behind the house both follow from a distance, careful not to make a sound. The Mitches converge on the top of the hill and revert to a singularity. Alone again, Mitch watches and waits. The hen marches resolutely to the unpaved road and stops. She looks up and down the road and seeing nothing but the night dark she waits. Again time threatens to play tricks on the young hero’s mind but this time his fascination with the drama unfolding keeps his attention focused.

Some time after the night passes on from it’s deepest darkness into the beginnings of a gray dawn the unmistakable flash of headlights appears from a ways up the road. The hen notices immediately and her gaze is locked on the onrushing vehicle. From his vantage point on the hill Mitch can feel the tension in the chicken’s body begin to mount. The car or truck or whatever gets closer and Mitch can tell that it is driving a bit to fast to be safe on the back country dirt road. The sound of the engine along with something else reaches Mitch and he can tell now that it is a truck and it has it’s radio on loud.

When the truck is less than fifteen meters away the hen steps out into the road. Mitch jumps up and runs but before a shout can even leave his throat the chicken is roadkill. Mitch spends the rest of the night letting his tears flow and pondering the meaning of the clear sign he was a witness to. Simultaneous with the precise crack of dawn Mitch decides that the sign was not the one he was looking for, although he did bear the burden of delivering the message. So a little after sunrise, once smoke started puffing from the chimney of the farm house, Mitch knocks on the door.

“So?” The old farmer asks.

“You need to stop keeping chickens.” Mitch says, turning before he can see the reaction to his words.

The hero walks away, over the hills and along the road without turning. If he had he would have seen the farmer collapsed in the doorway bawling tears of raw emotion.