Keep the Faith
Superhero
Multiple action figures flew across the room, ricocheting off of the pale jade walls and landing on the rough, ivory carpet below. Sound effects created from the throat of a small child echoed throughout the house; flying and crashing noises alongside tiny, high-pitched voices that were so unlike the characters themselves that it could have been mistaken for a horrible dub of some foreign movie.
A brown haired, short, chubby boy rushed towards the fallen toys, scooping them up with his small hands and giggling madly. His hazel eyes glistened with the innocence of childhood as the various models of comic book characters flew in front of him.
Storm clashed with Negative Man, who was thrown to the side in defeat, and the African-American mutant was then manipulated to fight Martian Manhunter.
The child’s joy could be felt throughout the entire household. But to the lad’s misfortune, that jubilation woke up his baby brother from his nap. As the infant screamed, the older one cringed and dropped his toys, awaiting the inevitable scolding that would erupt from his mother, father, grandma, or grandpa.
“Gerard!” And the reprimanding began. “How many times do I have to tell you to keep quiet when your baby brother is sleeping?!”
“I was just playing…” Gerard’s mumbled response was drowned out by his sibling’s loud whimpering.
His mother only shook her head tiredly and ran upstairs to check on the still-screaming toddler.
Gerard fell to the floor, sniffling at the admonishment he had just received, wondering if it would have been any different if he had superpowers. Would he be respected and not just treated like some mindless villain? Because that was what he was right?
He was Doctor Octopus and Little Mikey-kins was Spiderman.
The seven-year-old blinked out a couple of stubborn tears and poked his action figures with his sock-clad foot. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to be like Wolverine and Captain America and Nightcrawler. It was a dream of his that had plagued him for some time, but had only resulted in somewhat frightened looks on his parents’ faces.
Did they not think that he was capable of accomplishing his dream?
No, no, that couldn’t be it. His mommy and daddy loved him and pushed him in attempting to complete every goal he could ever think up.
“I see you woke up Mikey again, eh, Gerard?”
Gerard looked up to see his grandmother smiling down at him. Her curved lips emphasized every wrinkle on her face and her gray hair had been pulled into a messy bun, her overalls were covered in different shades of paint; the same colors covered her hands and arms. She strolled over next to her grandson and kneeled down, placing a spidery hand on his shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to, Gramma,” sniffed Gerard. “I was just playing.”
“I know you didn’t mean to, honey, but you’ve got to remember that Mikey needs his sleep just like you and I do. And you also need to remember to stay quiet when he’s in dreamland,” Grandma moved closer to her grandson and gave him a comforting hug, which the small kid gratefully returned.
After a moment of silence, Gerard spoke up. “Gramma Helena, do you think that I’ll be a superhero one day?”
Helena’s mouth formed a small frown, her body unmoving and tense as she wracked her head for the correct reply. To kill a young boy’s dreams was – in her opinion – one of the vilest forms of evil that one could commit.
And Gerard really could become a “superhero” one day. The elderly woman believed that he was more than competent of doing so.
“Of course you could, Gee,” came her gentle answer.
“Are you sure? You aren’t bein’ a fibber, are you?” Young Gerard’s voice was cracking in near indignation.
The grandmother repressed a maternal chuckle and shook her head. “Why would I lie to you, Gee?”
“Tons of people think that I’ll never be Wolverine or-or anyone like that… So I just thought–”
“Gerard,” Helena’s voice had become slightly stern and the youngster flinched at the change in tone. “Gerard… Don’t listen to them. You’ll be a hero one day. I believe you will be one.”
“R-Really?!” The young boy’s eyes were widened and the tints within them swirled like whirlpools. His face had formed a disbelieving look of awe. And when his grandmother nodded, he nearly squealed in happiness, but stopped himself when he remembered about the slumbering Mikey.
The action figures lay unmoving a couple of feet away from the two, almost as a symbol of mortal heroism.
“You’ll always be a hero to me, Gee.”
A brown haired, short, chubby boy rushed towards the fallen toys, scooping them up with his small hands and giggling madly. His hazel eyes glistened with the innocence of childhood as the various models of comic book characters flew in front of him.
Storm clashed with Negative Man, who was thrown to the side in defeat, and the African-American mutant was then manipulated to fight Martian Manhunter.
The child’s joy could be felt throughout the entire household. But to the lad’s misfortune, that jubilation woke up his baby brother from his nap. As the infant screamed, the older one cringed and dropped his toys, awaiting the inevitable scolding that would erupt from his mother, father, grandma, or grandpa.
“Gerard!” And the reprimanding began. “How many times do I have to tell you to keep quiet when your baby brother is sleeping?!”
“I was just playing…” Gerard’s mumbled response was drowned out by his sibling’s loud whimpering.
His mother only shook her head tiredly and ran upstairs to check on the still-screaming toddler.
Gerard fell to the floor, sniffling at the admonishment he had just received, wondering if it would have been any different if he had superpowers. Would he be respected and not just treated like some mindless villain? Because that was what he was right?
He was Doctor Octopus and Little Mikey-kins was Spiderman.
The seven-year-old blinked out a couple of stubborn tears and poked his action figures with his sock-clad foot. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to be like Wolverine and Captain America and Nightcrawler. It was a dream of his that had plagued him for some time, but had only resulted in somewhat frightened looks on his parents’ faces.
Did they not think that he was capable of accomplishing his dream?
No, no, that couldn’t be it. His mommy and daddy loved him and pushed him in attempting to complete every goal he could ever think up.
“I see you woke up Mikey again, eh, Gerard?”
Gerard looked up to see his grandmother smiling down at him. Her curved lips emphasized every wrinkle on her face and her gray hair had been pulled into a messy bun, her overalls were covered in different shades of paint; the same colors covered her hands and arms. She strolled over next to her grandson and kneeled down, placing a spidery hand on his shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to, Gramma,” sniffed Gerard. “I was just playing.”
“I know you didn’t mean to, honey, but you’ve got to remember that Mikey needs his sleep just like you and I do. And you also need to remember to stay quiet when he’s in dreamland,” Grandma moved closer to her grandson and gave him a comforting hug, which the small kid gratefully returned.
After a moment of silence, Gerard spoke up. “Gramma Helena, do you think that I’ll be a superhero one day?”
Helena’s mouth formed a small frown, her body unmoving and tense as she wracked her head for the correct reply. To kill a young boy’s dreams was – in her opinion – one of the vilest forms of evil that one could commit.
And Gerard really could become a “superhero” one day. The elderly woman believed that he was more than competent of doing so.
“Of course you could, Gee,” came her gentle answer.
“Are you sure? You aren’t bein’ a fibber, are you?” Young Gerard’s voice was cracking in near indignation.
The grandmother repressed a maternal chuckle and shook her head. “Why would I lie to you, Gee?”
“Tons of people think that I’ll never be Wolverine or-or anyone like that… So I just thought–”
“Gerard,” Helena’s voice had become slightly stern and the youngster flinched at the change in tone. “Gerard… Don’t listen to them. You’ll be a hero one day. I believe you will be one.”
“R-Really?!” The young boy’s eyes were widened and the tints within them swirled like whirlpools. His face had formed a disbelieving look of awe. And when his grandmother nodded, he nearly squealed in happiness, but stopped himself when he remembered about the slumbering Mikey.
The action figures lay unmoving a couple of feet away from the two, almost as a symbol of mortal heroism.
“You’ll always be a hero to me, Gee.”