Sneak Peek at The BackUp Superhero

The Back-Up Superhero

Not My Day

The bustling street was alive with movement. The taxis, buses, and cars sped down the street creating gusts of wind that blew my cape in jagged patterns.

Yet here I was, again another footnote in a superhero’s story, while an especially strong wind swept my cape straight into my face.

A little background information

Now when I say superhero, this isn’t by any means metaphorical. I am not referring to one of those viral firefighter videos of saving kittens from trees. I am referring to a literal superhero, the type that goes around saving people in a spandex lined leotard.

I had been attempting to make my way into the superhero business for nearly seven years now. This business is something people dream of making it into, the new version of a celebrity. If someone wanted to be the new poster-boy or girl for superheroes, making it in the superhero world was their chance to do that. When they didn’t make the cut, they ended up becoming a police officer, security guard, or bodyguard.

There was a misconception among the public about superheroes, mostly created by authors and Hollywood. Superheroes in this day and age didn’t have superpowers. Unlike the actors who flew around the big screen, this job required physical training. People who entered this line of work were true athletes, who were the best in physical stature. Entering the superhero business wasn’t something you did on a whim. Years of training and dedication were involved. There were steps you needed to follow.

You started by applying for training where you gained the basic skills of being a superhero. This consisted of combat, endurance, and agility skills. After training, you started a series of tests which determined your individual skillset. The results you received, then told them what level you would be separated into.

Now, what most civilians don’t know is, superheroes are cliquey. It’s like high school all over again with the exception of how they separate themselves. Once they enter their assigned level, they tend to stick to the same groups of superheroes.

Levels were important to the whole structure but often led to disappointment. Too many people jumped in thinking they would become a Level A superhero only to be assigned a lower-tiered level. The lowest tier was Level D. That was where I was. Level D stands for a backup superhero.

I was the superhero they called when a Level A superhero (best of the best) or levels B and C, otherwise known as sidekicks, couldn’t come.

Truth be told, even though making it to Level A was a dream, I wasn’t one for the spotlight. Now, this isn’t to say I wouldn’t appreciate credit being given once in a while for a job well done, but I didn’t need it in front of cameras and flashing lights. 

So back to the present.

On a corner in the middle of Queens, I leaned against a splintered utility pole between two tied up robbers. This was a typical robbery story in which some low-life individuals got caught up in unfortunate circumstances, only to think robbing a business would solve all their woes.

Since I was a backup superhero, there was a high chance this story wouldn’t even make the news. I would hand them off to the police who would pat themselves on the back for a job well done, even when I had to tell them the details to help them file the report.

Sure, it was degrading but it paid the bills, and I was still able to tell people I was a superhero.

The reflection of flashing red and blue lights in a storefront window caught the corner of my eye. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped me, followed by a grunt from the robber on the left.

When the police officer pulled up beside me, I waved shyly, pushing my ripped cape aside before stepping backward.

“Thanks,” the officer mumbled. “Wait, Tanser Girl? It’s me, Tommy.”

“Oh wow, I haven’t seen you in such a long time!”

“Seven years, I think. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“Uh, I usually work in the Bronx. They were short tonight, so here I am.”

Back in the early stages of superhero training, Tommy and I had become close. He had all the makings of a Level A status until the last set of training exercises caused him to break his leg in two places. Near the end of his recovery, Tommy was offered a spot at the beginning of basic training again, however, the thought of starting over was too difficult to handle. Even though I visited as often as I could, the spark and thrill of the superhero world slowly faded as he watched the rest of us advance. With all the training it would require in such a short time, he backed out, choosing a profession in the police force instead.

His head bobbed slowly as his eyes scanned my costume, the envy obvious. Placing his hands on his utility belt, he paused briefly before a tired smile crept onto his face. “Well, thanks again. We got it from here.”

Turning around with the small amount of dignity I had left with my boots making an audible clunk as I walked down the sidewalk.

“Hey, Tanser Girl!” Tommy yelled.

I spun around hopeful I was needed for something else. “Yes?”

He started to point at me before letting his hand drop. “Your cape is ripped.”

My sigh turns into a dry laugh. “Yeah, thanks.”

A cab sped my way, splashing through the scattered puddles nestled in the divots that riddled the street. I teetered on the curb head held high only to be drenched by a nearby puddle as the cab blew past.

So, there I stood drenched in dirty street water, with a ripped cape and an uncomfortably old band-aid that at some point had found a home on my boot.

This was not my best day.