Kellie Ross felt odd  as she knocked on the door of the house.  She wasn’t used to having to do that here; but then, she wasn’t used to being here by herself, either.

The door soon opened and a pleasant-seeming woman smiled down at Kellie.  “Hello,” she said.  “Can I help you?”

“I’m Kellie,” the teen said.

“Oh, right!  Mr. Ross has been waiting for you!  Come in, please.”

Kellie followed the woman in through the entryway, the living  room and dining room.  It was too immaculate in those rooms… but then, they probably weren’t getting used much now.

“How is he?”  Kellie asked.

“He’s getting weaker, but he’s really been looking forward to seeing you,” the woman said.  Kellie noticed the woman had on a badge identifying her as being with hospice.  It said her name was Toni Rizzo.

“How long does he have?” Kellie asked.

“Not long,” Toni said.  “It could be any time now.  I think he’s holding on to see you, actually.  Dying people do that sometimes.”

“But why me?” Kellie said.

Toni shrugged.  “He hasn’t said.”

Toni knocked on the bedroom door.  “Mr. Ross?  Your granddaughter, Kellie, is here.”

“Send her in,” came the weak, yet familiar voice.

Kellie was surprised when she walked in.  She had seen her grandpa since the cancer was diagnosed, but still wasn’t prepared for what she found.  The last time she had seen him, he was still close to being the vigorous, fit, rugged man she remembered.  Now he was frail and skeletal, and clearly near death.

“Hi, Grandpa,” Kellie said.

“Kellie!  Come here, girl-kid,” her grandpa said.

Kellie sat down on a chair by her grandpa’s bed, near his head.  He reached a wobbly arm up to caress her cheek.  A tear ran down that cheek as he did.

Her grandpa smiled.  “Don’t cry for me, girl-kid,” he said.  “My pain’s almost over, thank God.”

Kellie patted the old man’s hand, feeling the thin skin and bony structure of it.  “Grandpa, why did you call me here by myself?” she asked.  “Don’t you want the whole family here?”

“Later, yes,” her grandpa said.  “But for now there’s something I need to give you, and just you … and it involves a secret I need to share with you.”

Secret?  What kind of secret?  Kellie thought.

“You see, Kellie, there’s something that you, and no one else alive, doesn’t know about me,” her grandpa said.  “You just think of me as Blake Ross, but I’ve been … something more.  See, I was Elevator Man.”

Kellie was confused.  “You used to run and elevator in New York?” she said.

Blake chuckled.  “No, not an elevator operator,” Kellie said.  “I was Elevator Man, the superhero in the Super 6.”

It took a few seconds for what Kellie to process what her grandpa said.  Once she did, her jaw dropped.  “Wait,” she said.  “You were a superhero?!”

Blake pulled out a picture from a nightstand.  “This is me in the day,” he said, handing it to Kellie.

She saw the six heroes in the team.  She remembered Granite Man, and Super Scuba, if only because he had such a dippy name.  The others she couldn’t pull up, except for Elevator Man.  He was there in his gray safari jacket, the shortest of the six.

“The height thing was why I developed the size-changing belt,” Blake said.  “I was tired of the stigma that comes from being a short man.  When the belt let me grow to skyscraper size or shrink to the size of a bug, I realized I’d stumbled on something far bigger -- no pun intended -- than my planned use for it.”

“You didn’t wear a mask,” Kellie said.

“I didn’t see the need for one,” Blake said.  “I was a nobody in my private life, so I just let it go and lived as Elevator Man for awhile.”

“Why did you give it up?” Kellie asked.

“There were two reasons,” Blake said.  “One was that there were some ‘bugs’ in the belt.  I once almost shrunk out of existence when the belt controls stuck while it was off me.  The other was your grandma.  I saved her from a burning building when she crawled from a window onto my giant hand, and she captured my heart.  I knew I needed to work to live a normal life so I could be in hers.”

“So she knew,” Kellie said.

“Yes, God rest her soul,” Blake said.  “But she was the only one, and she kept my secret all these years.  I went to work in the electronics and miniaturization field, and continued refining my size-changing unit on my own time.”

“Grandpa, this is amazing!” Kellie said.  “But why are you telling me this?  And why now, by myself.?”

Blake grabbed a small box from the nightstand.  “Because I’m giving you this,” he said, handing it to the teen.

Kellie opened the box.  In it was a simple bracelet that appeared to be made of sturdy plastic.  “It’s beautiful,” she said.  Then she noticed the arrows.  Her jaw dropped.  “Grandpa, is this --”

Blake nodded.  “It’s the size-changer, now in a bracelet made of Kevlar,” he said.  “I thought about putting it in a ring, but you could wind up changing sizes every time you threw a punch.”

“But, why me?” Kellie asked.

Blake smiled weakly.  “Because I sense in you the spirit of adventure, and the desire to do something special to make a positive difference in the world,” he said.  “And because you’re short, and because you remind me of me.”

Kellie hugged her grandpa.  “Thank you so much.’

“You’re welcome,” he said.  “There are care instructions in the box.  Use it well, and keep it properly maintained.  Letting something get gummed up could be disastrous.  You‘re my legacy, you know.”

“I will take care of it, and use it wisely,” Kellie said.  “I promise.”

Blake’s eyelids were drooping.  “I need to rest now, girl-kid,” he said.  “And, I think you should have Toni call the rest of the family here.  I think it’s going to be tonight.”

Toni leaned down and kissed her grandpa’s forehead.  “I love you, Grandpa,” she said.

He beamed weakly up at her.  “I love you, too, Elevator Girl,” he said, and drifted off to sleep.

Tears running down her cheek, Kellie pocketed the bracelet for now and went out to tell Toni to call the others.