Major Ultro

Putting the human in Superhuman

I USED to hate Superheroes, I truly did. I couldn�t help it; it�s something I have had to come to terms with emotionally, being a psychiatrist. But I did, I hated them.
This morning I got up, shaved, spit out an ounce of blood from an ulcer, got dressed and went to work. On the way to work I got a call from my ex-wife to tell me my sixteen year old son has decided to skip college and play professional ping-pong. Also the neighbors are filing suit because the dog desecrated their prize winning strawberry patch. The dog belonged to me- she won it in the divorce settlement, but she�s still holding me responsible.
Then, I�m sitting in traffic, scratching the rash on my inner thigh and listening to static because some punk kid bent up my antennae, when the Superhero know to the public as the Speedominator comes blowing by at mach 5 completely destroying my paint job. Three and a half minutes later I hear a static account on the radio about how he stopped a bank robbery downtown and saved the day.
�Now, if he�d tell me the name of a cheap auto detailer and a lawyer who handles canine cases, he�d be saving my day.� I thought to myself
You see, that�s why I hated them- they�re above us- sometimes literally. They�re flying around and shooting lightning out of their fingers and getting in catalytic battles for the sake of mankind and saving the world every other day. But at the end of the day, they never really had to live in it..
No, at the end of day they can retire to their secret headquarters and be catered to by robot servants and never have to worry about bills or braces for the kids or ping-pong.
But something happened today. I walked into my office this morning, my office on the 44th floor of the Bacto Tower, downtown. I walked in to see my receptionist Ms. Tess with a look of amazement on her tiny face. Her eyes were big and white.
�What is it, Ms. Tess?� I asked her.
�Um, sir,� she said quietly. �There�s a��Mr. Ultro to see you.�
�Ultro�I don�t have a nine o�clock�
�Major�Ultro.� She whispered excitedly.
Major Ultro was the first, the first Superhero, been on the cover of every magazine in the world. He�s saved the planet from evil despots and alien invasions half a dozen times in the last year alone- and he was standing on the ledge outside my office window.
I stuck my head out my office window and there he was, standing with his bright cape flowing in the wind. He stared blankly at the street below.
�Um..Major Ultro is it?� I asked.
He peered over at me with puffy eyes. When he spoke his voice was like distant thunder.
�Yes.� He whispered.
I have a fear of heights, so I wasn�t going to lean too far out the window to speak with him; it was bad enough what the wind was doing to my equilibrium. I turned and grabbed my chair and rolled to the window ledge and made myself comfortable, then pulled a pad out of my shirt pocket.
�Well�Mr. Ultro-� I said, clearing my throat and flipping to a blank page.
�Lionel.�
�What was that?�
Ultro stepped from the ledge, and despite the fact that he floated softly on the breeze, my heart still jumped. He hovered over and sat gently on the ledge beside the window, �My name is Lionel. Lionel Standish. That�s my real name, my �secret identity.� I trust you to keep it to yourself?� he said, without breaking eye contact with the street below.
I started at the cape draped over his squared shoulder, �Of�of course, patient/doctor confidentiality and all.�
He shook his head, �Doesn�t matter, not like I�m anybody important in the real world.� He said in a voice that almost cracked.
He continued to stare hard at the street.
�I could jump��� he said quietly.
I stared at him for a moment, contemplating the situation.
�Yes�yes you could.� I told him.
He grinned a hurtful grin.
�Wouldn�t do me any good, I can fly.�
I nodded my head and lifted an eyebrow.
�That you do. And even if you couldn�t, you�re nigh invulnerable. You�d just leave a big crater in the street- maybe hurt a few innocent bystanders.�
He stared up at the sky.
�I tried to slit my wrist- went through six or seven boxes of razors cartridges before I gave up. I tried drowning myself. Flew straight to the bottom of the Pacific, sat there for hours.�
He rubs his hands across his forehead.
�Know what I did this morning?� he asked. �I stopped three rampaging monsters on the streets of Berlin. Then I rescued forty-seven people in a man-made earthquake in South America��
I scratched my forehead.
�Sounds like you�ve had a busy morning.� I told him.
He laughed.
�Morning? I did this in the last two hours.� He told me.
I stood looking at him as tears formed in his eyes.
�But when I shot across the ocean faster than light�the heat coming off of me�caught three shrimping boats on fire�and I discovered it too late.�
Part of me contemplated what could be going on in his head; the other part wondered how long it would take the people in the next building to notice this strange scenario.
Then he began to speak again, and something wonderous happened- the thunder had left his voice.
�When I was a kid, I use to dream about flying,� he told me. �Every time my stepfather would chase me out of the house with his belt I would dream of flying off, or running at top speed- or wishing I had a superpower I could use against him. Just take that belt away from him and throw him into space.�
Slowly he leaned back against the wall.
�Walking around a nuclear waste site.� He mumbled.
�What was that?�
�That�s how I got my powers- I would just walk around a nuclear waste site until I had powers�or until it killed me.�
He slowly slid down the wall into a squat. I stared at him and at that moment, watching this juggernaut with all his unlimited powers, just slide down the wall in defeat, all the hatred I harbored for superheroes just melted away.
�I can�t even�make love to a girl, without hurting her. So you know what I have to do?� he asked with a sob.
I shook my head slowly.
�Do you know what I�m vulnerable to?�
�I read about somewhere, a yellow chemical of some sort.�
�Yorulium. Prolonged contact can kill me. But this ring of Yorulium I have, if I slip it on my finger, it makes me vulnerable long enough to do the deed.� He said as he sniffles. He cracked a grin.
�Of course I spend an hour after sex hurling my guts out in the bathroom and trying to claw it off my finger.�
He laughs a bit. A laughter that held pain. I stared long and hard at him. Then I started wondering something
"Um....well, I have ask you a question.
"Okay.."
"You said you were trying to kill yourself.."
"...Yeah."
I scratched my head.
"Well, I mean...why didn't you just...leave the ring on...and then do yourself in?
He slowly frowned. His head drooped beneath his knees. This told me somewhere inside him, he really didn't want to die.
�Why�don�t you�come inside and we�ll talk.� I told him.
He glanced over at me with watered eyes. He c***s his mouth ever so slightly.
�Do you�charge by the hour?�
I figured I�d let him have the first session gratis. It would be the human thing to do.

THE END?

Reviews

[Malik Amandla]

I liked the way you introduced the characters, it was very unique. I sympathised with the protagonist in the beginning because he was down on his luck. The superhero was interesting because the stereotypical superhero is usually happy and righteous. They rarely ever attempt to commit suicide. I also liked the fact that his powers prevented him from succedding with killing himself. One thing to consider...couldn't he kill himself if he wore the ring before he jumped off a building or cut his wrists. The dialouge was written smootly, i like how the hero realisticly jumped from various subjects. Overall, this is a great start.