There’s a
place where children go when their superheroes are dying. It’s a place filled
with profound knowledge and limited solace; a place where humans cannot reach
them… a place where friends cannot disturb them. A place for reflection, so
deep inside themselves that only the children who go their can find their way
back again. I know of this place, because I have been there.
He wore an
actual cape, once. He was a young boy of 5 or 6 in the 1950’s, and he donned this
cape and rode his stick horse and proclaimed “I am Superman!” Even then, he
knew he was destined for greatness. I wonder if he knew that the superhero he
pretended to be and the superhero who watched over me were one and the same.
Superman
took me under the protection of his cape. He flew me around the world within
the walls of his mind. He shared his wealth of truths with me, never holding
back to protect my innocence or ignorance. He showed me falling stars,
sunrises, and sunsets. He inspired great passions within my tiny heart. He
instilled strength in my immature frame – taught me never to cower. At a young
age, I flew beside him to take in the world… I devoted myself to being as great
as he was. Little did I know that the amount of time I’d have to learn all I
wanted from him would be cut drastically short by mortal poisons.
I watched
as humans frantically tried to shield me from what I already knew. I was his
understudy… we talked without speaking. Our eyes met that afternoon and I
instantly saw his light begin to flicker, as though a storm were brewing within
him. His brow furrowed, and his throat lurched as he swallowed his uncertainty.
It was disheartening to see Superman afraid. It was in that brief moment
without words that he passed his cape to me. Alone, but surrounded by the
humans, he watched silently as I secured it around my shoulders. He
straightened his brow and nodded his head in an unspoken agreement that
protection fell to me now.
I took this
veil and I immediately retreated to the place where children go when their
superheroes are dying. I closed the iron doors and locked them. I fell to my
knees and covered myself in his shroud, taking in the smell of him. I willed my
focused thoughts in his direction, praying that they’d connect with him and
we’d continue to communicate on a separate plane than the humans.
For half a
year, I spent the majority of my hours in the place where children go. I sat in
a dark corner just out of reach from the light. I stared at dead space that my
breath interrupted and watched as dust particles caught the rays of the sun and
fell like glitter to my feet. This place whispered truths far greater than I
wished to bear, and these truths couldn’t be seen here in this unlit crevice …
only felt. I sat, holding this heartbreak for an eternity. All the while, my
mind flashed back to every lesson Superman had ever bestowed upon my curious and
courageous spirit. Great teachings of life, love, honor, dignity, pride, self
respect, protection, acceptance…
On the
other side of this locked cavern, my superhero diminished; his immortality besieged.
His resilience lay conquered. The mortal poisons invaded him like a rolling fog
on the sea. Every breath of life that he could summon only further fed the
killing thing. I feared to witness the tragedy
beyond the iron doors of my safe haven. I believed so strongly in our
immortality… our invincibility. I was convinced that Superman could conquer
even this.
Humans
summoned me from my chambers, occasionally. I honored their requests and made
brief appearances in order to assess the situation and monitor the needs of the
people that Superman once protected. His responsibilities fell to me and I
would be failing him and his people if I locked myself away completely. I would
hold my breath upon exiting the place where children go. I closed my eyes when
I passed him because there’s an unwritten code in superhero literature that an
understudy mustn’t bear witness to the failing powers of the ones before them. I
took nourishment and cleansed myself on the outside of my walls. I engaged in
brief conversation. I forced a smile upon my face so the humans with white
coats wouldn’t invade my realm. When the humans were satisfied with my
presence, I made peace with an exit and quietly tucked myself away beneath my
cape, in the dark corner behind the locked iron doors.
Sometime on
the last night, I startled from an exhausted sleep by the wind that howled
through the dark corner like a wolf unto the moon. Whispers were carried by
this breeze… under the iron doors and across the silent, dead space. The words
of Superman danced upon my eardrums, reminding me to step into the light when
the day arrived… to take the sun’s rays upon my face and let them guide me to
the places I would be needed as time passed by. Anxious tears stained my cheeks
as I listened to the winds howling outside the place where children go when
their superheroes are dying. I watched as the crack beneath the door changed
from night to day, and when the winds stopped howling, I lifted my head and
emerged from hiding.
…Superman
failed to inform me of one awesome truth… When I emerged from the place where
children go - the world would be entirely mine, and I would be entirely on my
own.
