Superman: One Man's Time

Superman created by Jerry Seigel and Joe Shuster

Chapter One

I'll never forget the image; the burning red eyes, and the heat. The single most disturbing event of my life had a duality to it. The irony of the situation is that even as the saving grace, the silver lining to the circumstances, he was by far the most terrifying part of the experience. He clearly wasn't there to harm my wife or I. In fact, as we have all come to expect, it was the opposite. The stories are all the same. He drops out of the sky, clad in blue and red, with a single purpose; to help. From the smallest street thugs, to the most formidable alien force imaginable, he has become a symbol of hope and all that is possible in this world.

Few of us ever expect to see him in person. Even for a moment. So when my opportunity came, I could not have been less prepared. And a person truly doesn't understand how fragile their psychological state and sense of what is normal actually is until something like this happens, and then he shows up.

When the AmTrak jumped the rails, we were lounging in our seats. I was reading Scientific American, while my wife was on her tablet, looking up restaurants to try when we reached Metropolis. For a split second I didn't think anything of it. The monotonous clik-clak of the rails was interrupted by a strange creaking, accompanied by a brief rumbling. I looked up from my magazine and my wife and glanced at one another. As I went to look back at the article, all hell broke loose. There was a sudden shockwave and we were thrown from our seats against the adjacent window. As the train car jack-knifed, it subsequently tipped over and we were tossed about like a pinball machine.

After what seemed like an eternity, the car came to rest. I was conscious, but with a ringing in my ears and foggy vision. My instinct was to grab by wife as she lay with her back to me. From being thrown around the car, I could see that both of her arms were broken, she was unconscious, and had a long shard of glass stuck in her thigh. As I attempted to shake the cobwebs from my vision and search for a way out, there was another deep creaking noise, followed by what could only be described as a slow tilting of the Earth. It was at that moment I realized the train car was hanging off the edge of a bridge near the city.

As the car began leaning over the edge of the bridge, everything loose in the car began to fall. I grabbed my wife around the waist and clutched at the seat that was to my left. I had seen Batman Begins many times, and just like Bruce Wayne hanging near a cliff's edge with Ra's al Ghul on his arm, I grunted as loud as I could, and lifted with every ounce of strength in my body. Only later would I notice that I had torn the muscles in my shoulder, but I was able to get her draped over the edge of the seat. After hoisting my wife up, I managed to get both feet onto the back of the seat in the next row. And while I was still attempting to process the chaos of the last couple of minutes, surveying my next move, struggling with every fibre of my being just to hang on; it was then that my own sense of reality was shattered.

Just for a moment, I felt the effects of anti-gravity. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and then the entire train car rose up. It might as well have been the whole world. I felt the tug on my whole body as the car swung to the left, back toward the bridge deck, and gently settle. Attempting to disregard the impossibility of a twenty-five ton train car lifting itself back onto a bridge, I pulled my t-shirt off and wrapped it around the glass shard in my wife's leg. Then there he was, looking at me through the broken window. I heard what sounded like the twisting of a submarine valve that had rusted over and practically fused after 70 years of decay. The door at the far end of the car had been bent when it tipped over, which for the average person would have made opening the door by hand practically impossible. In retrospect I realize he was just being delicate, trying not to cause any more damage than had already taken place. But seeing him through the broken glass sliding the disfigured metal could be equated to a tank trying not to crush a rose garden. Still, it forced its way along the rails, opening the door.

He slowly made way toward us, checking for other passengers in the car. Not seeing any he shifted his focus on my wife and I. It took a moment to notice, but he was actually floating down the aisle, about three inches off the floor. I immediately froze, not believing my own eyes. Being able to tell I was in shock was an obvious call for him. He clearly deals with people in my condition all the time. I couldn't even blink. He slowly touched down and put his hand on my shoulder. I had never felt anything so powerful, yet so non-threatening.

"Are you alright?" he softly said.

Through my stupor I was able to get out four words.

"Can you help her?" I stammered.

"Let's have a look."

He picked her up and placed her on the floor of the car. Looking her over, he seemed to notice a major problem.

"The glass in her leg has sliced the femoral artery. The paramedics won't be here in time. I need to cauterize it. Do you understand?"

I continued staring at him, stupefied. He smiled, seemingly amused by me.

"Don't worry. She'll be fine."

He lightly pulled the shard out of her leg. There was a quick shot of blood that poured out onto the floor.

"Ok. You might even feel this a little."

His eyes began to glow a deep red, like the setting sun. The heat was so intense, I felt as though a welding torch would seem mild. A fine beam of light emitted from his eyes into the wound on my wife's leg. It only took a couple seconds. But the image seared its way into my memory. He took my shirt and tied it around her thigh for pressure. He then looked at me again.

"Can you walk?"

I managed to nod.

"Ok. Follow me. We need her to be ready for the paramedics."

He carefully placed her arms across her body, and then picked her up. I followed toward the door. I couldn't help but stare at his cape. The absolutely silly thought of "How does he keep that thing so clean?" came to mind.

As we exited the car, the destruction became apparent. Two of the cars had plunged into the river after tearing their way through the steel supports and guardrail of the bridge deck. I looked down the bridge. There were fifteen people sitting on the bridge, soaking wet, some injured. There were another ten lying motionless further up the bridge. I didn't have to ask. In the shortest of time he had pulled twenty-five people from submerged train cars, saving a small majority of them. I suspected the ones that perished, were killed instantly. In the distance, I could see the front several cars had stopped and people were running toward the wreckage to help. We could hear sirens and helicopters in the distance.

Superman laid my wife on the bridge deck and looked to me.

"Keep her warm." He instructed.

Again I managed a nod. He gave me a caring smile, rose up off the ground about five feet, and took off toward the rear section of the train. He had many more people to save. After the wave of air rushed past by face, I softly spoke.

"Thank you."

Sitting down, I pulled my wife close and hugged her. At that moment, she finally began to come around. She slowly opened her eyes, and winced in pain as the sensations hit her. The emotions came flooding in for me as I realized what he had done for us. As tears began flowing, I stroked my wife's hair.

"Help will be here soon honey. He saved you." I said through the tears.

"Who saved me?" she managed through the pain.

"He did. I love you." I replied softly.

It wasn't until weeks later that I realized how my experience with him had affected my life and its direction.