In honor of those who risked their lives on September 11, 2001, to aid others.
TMNT © Mirage Studios
Hero
His trek was a solemn one today. He had traveled along it before. He had turned the corner at least half a dozen times in the week already and carried on across the roofs and alleys. He had even been down this street more times than he cared to count.
But today is different.
He had asked his brothers to come along with him, perhaps things would be like every other night. Perhaps while they were out they could play hero again. They could stop some crimes, save some lives – be the secret protectors of the night.
None of them seemed all that interested. Other things to do. Too many emotions on the surface tonight. He understood.
But he had to go. Today was special all that time before. It is still special now.
Time numbs what is felt, but it does not dull what has happened.
He has memories spontaneously revealing themselves in his mind as he carries forward. He is walking forward and going back all at the same time. He was there when it happened. He is there now as it is memorialized. He is disappointed.
There is not much to look at still. It has been so long yet the sights meeting his eyes are far from fetching. It is still a gaping wound.
It reminds him of the day. He tried to stay away, but he couldn't. None of his family really could. They all were there in their own way. But he came there the most, he was sure of it. He would watch and pray. He would hope and listen for the beating hearts he hoped remained.
He still waits.
He is not alone.
Sitting there beside him is a man. He is keeping his distance from the hundreds of bodies. He wants to be away from the families and tears. He wants to remember and he wants to forget. He wants to be away from the huddles but he still wants to hear the prayers.
The distant ninja recognizes the man. He has seen him before. He was there, too. Just like he is today, the man is in uniform. The man hugs his decorated shoulders. He watches in complete silence and shakes his head. Too many memories they share without ever truly meeting.
"You handed me water," the officer mutters. "I remembered you. If it was you. There were a few of you. I couldn't figure out who was who."
He nods in exchange, though the man is not turned to see it. "Family resemblance," he mutters in reply. It is short but not out of awkwardness. This is not strange though it should be. The ninja is not used to speaking to those he does not know, after all.
But this man is different. He and the policeman share more than strangers ever could.
"You saw it all?" he asks him again.
The unsettling nature sets in. Others are crying, choirs are singing, their voices are carrying to even where the two aloof observers remain. The mutant isn't sure if there are any others out there conversing like these two are. Is it right? Is this natural? Are they not as morose as they should be?
"I saw a lot," he admits reluctantly to the interrogator. It bothers him to force the memories upon himself. He had learned to accept them as they came but to push them is still painful. He had seen a lot. "I bet you saw more, though. I only handed out water to those who needed it."
The man nods in agreence, a tremor travels through his broad shoulders. The mutant is worried he will cry; if the officer does this then the ninja is not going to know what to do. It is hard to console himself and he does not think he can console the officer along with himself. It would be too much.
But the officer sobers up before any true sobs can be heard and he hardens himself as he has done for many years. It is in his training and he relaxes the mutant along with his own being. It is something the ninja is grateful for.
"I saw a lot of mistakes," he explains. "I saw a lot of things that could have been done. I still see them today."
The turtle grimaces. He doubts that anyone there that day, so long ago it seems, did anything less than they could have. It feels bad, it feels wrong. Too many people died for it to seem like nothing could be done more. But the mutant knows better now with age.
"I saw a lot," the turtle reminds him. He cannot tell if the officer listens for he does not react. But he continues. "I saw you, I remember. It's hard to forget. You looked like death warmed over, there was little more that your body could take but you were going to make it try anyway. I could see it in your face as you walked off, probably something mandatory like a break, but you were not going to stop until every possible life was saved."
The officer scoffs slightly. The ninja now knows he is paying attention. "I did not save any."
"But you tried," the turtle stresses. He searches desperately within himself for words to better explain. "You tried and you let us watch on the sides when we could do nothing. I gave you water, remember? I said it was the only thing I could do and you said it was enough. And you went back to look for more people."
This time the officer turns and the turtle sees his face. It is sharp and hard with reddened eyes. He has been sitting there watching for much longer than the turtle knew. "I did not save any."
"Yes you did," the ninja expresses at long last. "You did not see it but you did. You saved me. You saved my brothers. You saved those people in the crowds today. We were not in the wreckage that day, I know, and our physical wellbeing was not at stake. But we needed someone to show us that humanity was still there. We needed a person sacrificing themselves for others to tell us that the world was not truly bad."
They pause and look at each other with equally sullen expressions. The crowds hush their prayers and vigils. A moment of silence. It passes.
"You see," the turtle continues, "I know what it is like to walk away from the day and feel that I did not do enough. No matter how many crimes I stop, people I save, fires I put out, on the other street there is someone else who is hurt, stolen from, burnt – I never will save them all. I know better than to try. I am not a hero. I hide in the night, no one will learn from the deeds I do that they cannot see. Compared to you I am a coward."
The words hit home for both and they stare.
"You are a hero, Sir," the mutant expresses. "You gave us all hope when we need it most."
The officer stands but says nothing. He stands tall, much taller than the turtle. His chest is somewhat fuller now. They stand side by side in the shadows, away from the crowds but with them all at the same time.
The policeman walks toward the ceremony, into the light of the waving candles.
The turtle remains in the shadow in admiration of the hero he never knew.