Jumper
by Rhonnel Ferry
Noah Martinez has had enough of life. It has done nothing but torment him, plague him with horrible circumstances that are out of his control.
But he takes comfort, at least, in knowing that he will have the final say. Life will not decide how and when it will all end. He will! And standing on the rooftop ledge of the 33-story building he works in, Noah has decided that it all ends...now!
He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, spreads his arms wide like they are wings, leans forward and-
"Excuse me, sir?" a voice interrupts him.
The voice puzzles Noah. Partially because it hadn't come from the side of the rooftop behind him. Instead, the sound came from in front of him! In midair! His eyes flutter open, and the shock of what he sees nearly causes him to topple over the ledge and onto the street 33 stories below.
"You're Superman!" Noah gasps, regaining his balance.
"Yes, I am. And you are?" the floating man in the red cape asks.
"Uh...N-Noah! Noah Martinez!"
"Pleasure to meet you, Noah. Is this Kingsland?"
"Uh, no. You're in Princeville. If you wanna go to Kingsland, you have to take the bus to-" Noah pauses after realizing how silly his directions were. "You fly in that direction. Kingsland is behind Squire Super shopping mall. You can't miss it. They got this huge billboard of a hot chick holding a sword in a provocative... Well, anyway. You can't miss it."
"OK. Thanks," Superman says, then turns and flies away.
"Not bad," Noah thinks to himself. "Got to meet a god before I kill myself. Can't wait to tell mom. She'll freak. Oh, wait a minute. I can't tell her. I'll be dead. Well, maybe I can call her first. Nah, news like this, you gotta tell in person! Maybe I should wait one day before I kill myself. No! No, Noah! If you don't do this now, you'll chicken out! And then life will have you in its cruel clutches again."
Noah closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, spreads his arms wide like they are wings, leans forward and-
"Excuse me, Noah?" Superman interrupts him again.
"W-w-what-?"
"This might not be any of my business, but why do you keep doing that? I'm just curious. It's like you're reenacting that scene from Titanic-"
"You know what I'm doing," Noah grumbles. "And I know what you're doing, too. And you can forget it! You can't talk me out of it. And don't bother catching me either! I'll just squirm, kick, and struggle until you drop me! Go save someone who wants to be saved!"
"OK. But can you at least tell me why?"
"You wouldn't understand!" Noah shouts angrily. "How could you?! You can fly! You're invulnerable! You've got a six-pack! How can you possibly understand what we, flawed humans, go through everyday of our sorry lives!"
Superman is momentarily quiet.
"You're right," the man of steel finally answers solemnly. "No matter how hard I try, I never will truly understand what it feels to be one of you. Sorry to bother you."
Superman turns and flies away again.
This time, Noah breaks into tears and starts sobbing like a child.
After a while, and with much effort, he manages to steel himself. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, spreads his arms wide like they are wings, leans forward and-
"Excuse me, Noah?" Superman interrupts him yet again.
"WHAT?! GODDAMMIT!"
"You got a pen?"
"Wha-? A pen?!"
"Yeah, I mean, it's not like you're gonna need it where you're going, right?"
Noah takes the pen from his shirt pocket, and frustratingly hands it to Superman.
"And a piece of paper, please?" Superman asks politely.
"A piece of paper, too?"
"Yeah, well, it's not like I can carry one in this suit. I don't have a utility belt or anything."
"Wait, I think I got a receipt here somewhere..."
Noah fishes for the receipt in his jeans pocket.
"Here," he says, handing the crumpled piece of paper to Superman.
Superman scribbles something on the back of the receipt, then hands it back to Noah.
"What's this?" Noah asks.
"That's the number of a friend of mine. Tanisha Babatunde. Flawed human. Just like you. No super powers. Promise. Maybe she can understand what you're going through."
"Oh, what is this? One of those Suicide Prevention Helplines?" Noah asks, visibly irritated.
Suddenly Superman turns his head, like he is intently listening to something.
"OK, now I really do have to go," the last son of Krypton tells him urgently. "You know. Save someone who wants to be saved. Hope we can talk again sometime, Noah."
Then Superman speeds away.
Noah watches him, then looks at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.
#
One year later, at his second floor apartment, Noah is tying his tie, while standing in front of a mirror. He is preparing for a night out with friends, when he hears a light tapping on glass. He walks over to the large window, and opens it to let the man of steel in.
"Hi. Come on in," he invites him.
"Thanks," Superman answers, floating inside. "Is this a bad time? You look like you're just about to head out."
"Just gonna go out for some drinks with the guys. You wanna come with?"
"I'll take a rain check on that."
"OK. Hey, I'm glad you dropped by. I've been wanting to tell you how sorry I am about all that stuff I told you on that rooftop a year ago."
"That's alright. You can make it up to me."
"I can?"
"Yeah. That's why I dropped by. Met this guy. Misha Alexeyev. Think maybe you could talk to him for me?"
"What is he, a jumper?"
"No. Tried to overdose."
"Sure. Have him call me."
"Appreciate it," Superman says, floating back out the window.
"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you," Noah calls after him. "You save the planet from alien invaders, evil robots, and mad scientists every other day of the week. Why do you bother helping losers like me?"
Superman looks at Noah like the man is crazy.
"Because it feels good," the Kryptonian answers plainly. "Come on, doesn't it feel good when you help people?"
Noah laughs, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it does."
Superman smiles back, "Hope we can talk again sometime, Noah." Then he turns and flies away.
END
