Superhuman Expectations

Watching someone give every breath, every bead of sweat and every drop of blood for another person is something I am used to. At first, it was inspiring watching her be the pillar of strength that strangers need. The unbreakable wall, the softest touch, the sharpest blade, the gentlest spoken word, the fury of a thousand suns, the kindest smile. Everyone has a void in their life and she manages to fill it perfectly. I can’t imagine my life without her in it, but with each day that passes I find us being brought closer to the moment she will be ripped away from me.

I wish we could spend each day on repeat… but everything must come to an end, even perfection.

She has aged so gracefully, looking only a couple years older than when she took me under her wing when I was a child. Her brown hair is thick and sleek, her skin is rosy and her shoulders which bear the weight of the world are strong and squared. Her eyes, however, aren’t what they used to be.

When I was a child, her gaze was soft and encouraging. During my teenage years, her eyes were stern with a hint of pride. In my twenties, I joined her in the field and her eyes were focused. When I supported her in my thirties, her eyes were tired. Now in my forties, all I can see is her worry.

For the public, she will always be their infallible hero, their protector. For me, she will always be my mother, my best friend, my colleague, my mentor, my everything.

On the panel underneath the weather radar, a red light flashes. Moments pass while I stare at it, considering my options. If I tell her she is being summoned by the Bureau of Meteorology, she will undoubtedly suit up, put on her mask, and lift her chin as she readies herself to meet death. Every call to arms is a new threat to her life… another reason for us to say a sombre goodbye before she goes. If I don’t tell her about the light pulsing by my wrist, then people are guaranteed to perish in the disaster she won’t be able to prevent. I feel a pang of selfishness twist my heart. I don’t care if people die, but she will, and her failure is her own worst enemy. That outcome isn’t acceptable.

I groan as I push myself up out of my chair and head toward the interior balcony overlooking the kitchen and living space below. Triple-glazed windows stretch from floor to ceiling and she sits on the couch by the glass, peering down the mountainside below. Her elbows are braced on her knees as she leans forward, hair spilling about her face, deep in thought.

Hesitation holds me; I’m worried about her going to work without a clear head. Someone died yesterday in her arms, bleeding out before she could get them to a hospital. I have no doubts the grisly scene is seared into her brain like her wailing and crying last night are seared into mine.

“Hey, Jim,” she says softly, noticing my presence above her.

“Hey. Sorry to interrupt.” I can’t mimic the comforting tone she can easily swing into for others.

“Have a seat with me. We need to talk.”

Oh jesus. My heart skips a beat and I trawl through the events of the last few weeks in a panic, trying to figure out what has gone wrong and hoping to god it wasn’t my fault.

“It’s okay,” she says, her silky words instantly calming my nerves. “Please, join me.”

If I were younger, I would have jumped the railing. I knew how to land from a storey-high jump safely, but my body wasn’t capable of it anymore. She built stairs for me when I injured my knee at twenty-nine, a nice gesture I accepted resentfully.

Sinking into the couch beside her, I let go of a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. To sneak a glimpse of her without her notice is impossible, so she looks at me the instant I look at her. Her eyes are serious. This isn’t the battlefield focus or the intensity of concentration she holds at work; she looks like she’s about to deliver bad news.

“I have never considered myself to be predictable, but you see right through me.” She leans back into the cushioning, shifting her stare to the horizon.

“Are you leaving?” My chest is tight.

“No.”

“Are you dying?” I swallow the lump in my throat.

A slight pause. “No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It’s you.”

My heart sinks. “Look, I know you don’t want me in danger anymore so I agreed to be your remote support. Am I not good enough, am I doing something wrong?”

A sad smile pulls at her lips as she shakes her head. “You have always been good enough. The problem is that I am not good enough for you.”

I stare at her blankly. “I don’t understand.”

She sighs. “You know I am inhumanly strong, and fast, and I don’t age like most people do. Well… I can also hear people’s thoughts. I can hear your thoughts.”

Oh no. Oh… no. She knows how scared I am of losing her. I am holding her back.

“You aren’t holding me back. You have never limited me. In fact, you are the only thing that has kept me going for as long as I have. For centuries I have been trying to create a world of peace and kindness. When you came into my life I tried even harder. I want to give you everything, but I know all you want is me.”

“But you aren’t mine to have! Millions of people rely on you, and you can’t let them go. This is who you are, and you can’t give up your values for me. It would… it would kill you!” The way she looks at me without words crushes me. I have destroyed her with my love. “Don’t give up. I am not the only person who needs you. It’s like you said, I can see right through you. If you stop being the world’s hero, it will ruin you faster than the work does. Do you really think you are ready to stop saving lives and risking your own?”

Her expression is distant, as if she is watching something too far away from my eyes to see. Eventually she shakes her head. “I am hurting you, though, every time I leave. I hear your thoughts and feel your fear as I depart. I carry that worry with me into danger, and it means I am more careful of myself and I don’t think I am enough for others while I am trying to protect myself for you… and I am not enough for you while I am risking myself for others.”

“You taught me everything I know. Most importantly, you taught me to stay true to myself. Regardless of how I feel about it, you need to do what is right for you. Don’t think about anyone else but yourself right now. Jesus, that’s something you have never done, but at least try.” I give her a crooked smile of encouragement.

Her eyes fixate on something distant and her hands clench into fists. Almost losing awareness of my presence, she watches something intently out the window.

“What are you looking at?”

“That alert upstairs you didn’t want to tell me about. It is for two tornadoes to the North-West.”

The hero in her flinches but she doesn’t break focus. The feel of my hand on hers releases her tension and she breaks her attention to look at me with tears brimming.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. This is who you are, and you know I love you no matter what.”

“I know, Jim. I love you, too.” She squeezes my hand and pulls me to stand up with her. “I will come back, I promise.”

“I’ll have pancakes ready for you tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together. I’ll even throw in some berries and whipped cream.”

“You spoil me!” she laughs. “I will see you in the morning.”

“You deserve more than pancakes, believe me,” I say into her hair as I embrace her with a hug.

In an instant she disappears from my vision as she raced from the room. Moments pass before the windows shake from the sonic boom outside as she takes to the sky, flying faster than the speed of sound to rescue those in need. I’m left standing with my hands hovering in the air from where I held her. Like always, she is gone in an instant, and the goodbye never feels like enough. I wish I could hold on to the memory of her for longer, just in case it's the last time I ever see her. But I feel the crispness of the memory diminishing until she feels like an intangible ghost, and I am surrounded by silence.

With a heavy heart I head upstairs to the flashing light and answer the call.

“Help is on the way.”