Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Believe A Man Can Fly

Superman: I want you to know I was affected by what you said a few weeks ago- the implication that I’d been spending more time away from people. I guess it was something I was doing, and and was conscious I was doing, but that I hadn’t really acknowledged. Anyway, there was a car accident a mile from my apartment; I heard the horrible crunch of metal, and I listened, and could hear a slow, depressed heartbeat.

Now, when I want to, I can move at such a speed that I’m little more than a blue and red blur, but what you’d said- I grabbed the man, an older gentleman, probably in his sixties, and took him to the hospital, left a note on his chest describing the scene of the accident for them- but then I rushed back to the scene, and did something I hadn’t done in a while: I stood there. Not moving, not flying, but I stood there, and I asked, “Is everyone else all right?”

And there was just shocked, stunned silence; I caught myself wondering if my fly was down or something

ID: And you might have even checked- though at such a speed that the world would never know.

S: Right. But the man the other driver hit, a cab driver, he put his hand on my shoulder, and that was when I looked in his eyes, and they were full of tears as he said, “Oh, Superman.” And looking around at the crowd, they were teary eyed, too, and I probably would have burst into tears right then, but the cabby took me into this big bear hug- I think any other time I would have resisted, just naturally, and I wasn’t physically weak enough that I couldn’t have, but emotionally, there was just no way I could have or would have even wanted to resist it.

After a moment, I summoned all the strength I had left in me, and I asked the crowd again, all without the cabby letting go of me, “Is everyone here all right?”

He pulled away from me, and his whiskers scraped against my neck, and I smelled his aftershave and I realized he’d left tears streaked across my shoulder, and none of that mattered at all when he said, “We will be when you are.”

“Thank you,” I told him as he let me go.

“No, man. Thank you.” I lifted off the ground, then; I didn’t try to hide that it was harder than it used to be, didn’t kick off the ground or try to put out an initial burst of speed to cover up that I’ve gotten slower. There was something… really humanizing in being able to admit that I’m sick, that it’s affecting me. And of course, being able to be that open, that vulnerable, with people, obviously, that’s affected me, too.

I guess… I’d just figured people might be sad, but that it was mostly going to hit them when bad things happened, and I wasn’t there to respond when they cried, “Save me, Superman.” I didn’t think, I just wasn’t prepared for the reality that they

ID: Might simply cry?

S: Yeah.

ID: And how’s that make you feel?

S: In a way, it makes me feel better. Everyone feels… disconnected from people sometimes; I think maybe I’ve felt it more acutely, being a small-town alien in a big city- but everyone gets lonesome, questions their own worth

ID: Even Superman?

S: Hmm. I don’t think I’ve ever questioned the worth and the value of Superman, but Clark Kent, Kal El- I think I’ve often felt that those two people were often at odds with the good I can and should be doing as Superman. So their worth, I’ve never been certain of, but that man wasn’t just hugging the man in the suit; it’s hard to explain, but going out there like I am, I wasn’t only Superman anymore.

I wasn’t the ideal, virile, muscular farm boy with a college education and chiseled jaw, I was frail, I was weak- I’ve never felt more mortal. And when that man hugged me, it wasn’t just the suit, it was the man beneath it. It really, I think it really helped me feel something I’ve known for a long time, that Clark and Superman are the same, a slight hair tousling, some glasses and a few mannerisms to the side. In that sense, feeling connected, feeling appreciated- feeling loved, that makes me feel better than I ever have.

But it also makes the list of people I’m letting down, the list of people who are going to have a harder time of things without me, that much longer. I hate disappointing people.

ID: Do you honestly think you could be disappointing people?

S: I- I wanted to say yes, but the way you ask that question, I don’t know. I hope not.

ID: For my money, no. You’ve been facing this with the same grace and dignity you’ve always shown. If we lose you to cancer, we won’t be disappointed in you, but in a world foolish enough to take you.

S: Well thank you.

ID: No, Clark, thank you.

We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. Some of the questions have already been prepared by the interviewer, but to ask Superman a question, leave a comment or send an email to DeathofSuperman@gmail.com.