Kidnapper
by Rhonnel Ferry
People think they know Superman. They really don't. Gods, some still believe that he could actually turn back time by flying around the planet really fast, or that he could lift a Kryptonite island into space! Truth is, people like to talk. And when they talk, they like to exaggerate. A lot! Truth is, they will never know him like I do.
People think Superman is perfect. That he is incapable of negative emotions like sadness, guilt, hatred, and anger. Oh, he can be angry. He can be very angry. He's particularly angry tonight. And with good reason.
Iesha Williams has been missing for days. The small child of poor parents in the inner city, it's not like the police nor the politicians are putting in any great effort in order to locate her. But he is.
"Absolutely not!" Deshaun, the victim's father yells.
"Mr. Williams, all I want is to help find your daughter," Kal, in his mild mannered reporter guise pleads with the distraught man. "If you could just share some information about-"
"All you want is a story! I know you reporter types! You don't care!"
"But if we could let more people know, our chances of finding her will be greater-"
"I've got news for you, Mr. Kent. People don't care either."
Then he slams the door.
Kal walks away, frustration evident in his face.
"Sometimes I wish I really could do all those things people say I could do," he tells me. "Then I would be able to fly around, and scan the whole planet with my x-ray vision."
"Perhaps the kidnapper has her locked up in a lead walled basement," I suggest.
"He doesn't need to. Truth is, my x-ray vision is useless if I don't know where to look. If only her parents were more cooperative. But with rich people and the authority looking down on them all their lives, guess I can't blame them."
Then I have an idea.
"Maybe Superman should ask them. I doubt anyone would dare slam their door on Superman."
"You know I don't like doing that. It feels like abuse of power."
"Do you have any other ideas?"
He doesn't, and reluctantly agrees. We go someplace private nearby, and change into our superhero and super-heroine personae. (It's OK. We've seen each other undress many times before.) He tosses the glasses, rips open the shirt to reveal the iconic El family crest. I do my little ballerina pirouette.
"Superman!" Deshaun exclaims the next time we see him.
"Mr. Williams," Kal greets him in a more commanding voice. "I'd like to ask you some questions about your missing daughter."
"Of course! Come in! Come in!"
#
"It was my fault!" Qiana, the victim's mother admits, tears streaming down her cheeks. I can tell by the bags under her eyes, that she has been crying much lately. "I had her hand. The market was just so crowded. We were pushing through the people. I lost hold of her hand, and when I turn the very next second,...she was just gone! It was just one second! I can't understand how this could happen!"
Her husband gently puts an arm around her, tears threatening to pour down his eyes, too.
"Has anyone made any demands?" I ask.
"Look around you," the father answers. "We don't have anything."
"Do you have any enemies? Anyone that would want to hurt you?"
"Well,...I don't know. I can't think of anyone who would do something like this to us-"
Suddenly the phone rings, startling the distressed couple. The phone rings again. Everyone in the room is tense and silent.
Deshaun picks up the receiver.
"Hello?" he tentatively answers. Then he practically screams, as he stands, "Iesha?!"
His wife literally jumps out of the couch, and grabs her husband tightly by the arm.
"It's her!" he tells his wife excitedly. Then he talks back to the phone, "Iesha, where are you?!"
Don't they even have a speaker phone?! I don't have super hearing like Kal does.
"Hello? Hello?! Iesha! Iesha!" Deshaun yells, shaking the receiver in his hand. But his daughter's voice on the other line is gone.
"What is it?! What did she say?!" his wife asks desperately.
"She just kept crying and crying. She was calling for us. Oh God, she sounded so afraid."
#
"He's toying with them!" Kal shouts angrily, punching a hole into a brick wall (of an abandoned building that's about to be demolished anyway! Don't worry! Superman didn't damage anyone's property. I told you people expect him to be perfect. He really isn't). "I heard everything on the other line! He never made any demands. He just wanted them to hear her crying. But he was there! I could hear him sniggering in the background."
"Did you hear anything else?"
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe you heard something in the background that could tell us where she is."
"Uhm...I don't know. Let me try to remember."
"You want me to use my Lasso of Truth on you?"
"What? Why would I lie?"
"Well, I'm not saying you would. It's just that... Well, I've been carrying this magic lasso around, and I haven't really been using it a lot lately."
"Bells."
"What?"
"I heard bells."
"Like in a church? Or a fire station?"
"No. Sounded...smaller."
"Well, it's something. Let's go fly around, listening for small bells."
#
"When was the last time you had any sleep?" I worriedly ask him as we scour the impoverished city.
"I don't need sleep. I'm Superman," he jests, in a veiled attempt to ease my mind.
"You're beginning to believe your own hype. Earth's gravity makes you naturally stronger and faster. But your solar based powers run out. They need to recharge in the sunlight. And you need rest like everybody else. You haven't slept since she went missing. Go home. Get some sleep. I'll take the night shift. You can take the day shift when the sun can recharge your powers."
"Wait..."
"No. Now."
"Wait! I can hear the bells!"
"What?!"
He swoops down. I follow.
"There!" he points.
"An ice cream truck?"
"Yes. That's the sound I heard. It's that exact sound!"
He flies in front of the truck to halt it. The driver blurts out something...vulgar.
"You're Superman!" the man exclaims.
"What's your name?" Kal asks urgently.
"Uhm...Ch-Chen Haitao!"
"Haitao, is this your regular route? Where was this truck at around six thirty tonight?"
"You want me to use my Lasso of Truth on him?" I offer.
"What? Why would he lie to us?" Kal asks me.
"I don't know. People lie sometimes. Oh, he could be in on it!"
"You're Wonder Woman!" Haitao exclaims again.
"Hello, Haitao," I greet him. "You want me to use my Lasso of Truth on you?"
"You know, you're right," Kal tells me. "He might be in on it. Go ahead. Use the lasso."
"Yay!"
I use the lasso.
"Just tell us where you were at around six thirty tonight?" Kal asks him again.
"I was probably at Saint Ramirez street," Haitao answers in that monotone voice, typical of someone under my lasso's spell.
"Saint Ramirez street," Kal repeats. "Now, I know where to look."
#
"No, no, no..." Kal says worriedly as he scans the houses at Saint Ramirez street.
"What is it? What's wrong?" I ask him.
"The x-ray vision's fading."
"Why can't you be more like one of those smartphones people like using? So easy to recharge."
"I found her!"
We rush towards a decrepit, one story house, with a yard overgrown with weeds. Kal quietly breaks the lock. I warily follow him in. We might just be dealing with a non-super powered miscreant, but in our line of work, you can never be too sure.
Kal walks all the way to the back. The dank rooms are unlit and untidy. He breaks the knob to another room.
We find poor, little Iesha shackled to a pipe in the bathroom.
"You're Superman!" she exclaims.
"Yes, I am," Kal answers. The overwhelming relief in his voice very nearly brings me to tears.
"And you're Wonder Woman!" Iesha tells me next, her eyes sparkling. "I'm your number one fan!"
"Hello, Iesha," I greet her tenderly. "You want me to use my Lasso of Truth on-?"
"Are you OK, Iesha? Are you hurt?" Kal interrupts me.
"My ankle..." she says, looking down at the metal manacle around her badly bruised joint.
"Of course," he answers, easily breaking the restraints.
"Thank you," she politely replies.
"Hey, who's back there?!" I hear a man drowsily call from another room.
The suddenly dark expression in Kal's face lets me know that he recognizes the voice from the phone call earlier.
"Stay with her," he growls at me.
"Kal, wait-!" I quickly follow him out.
"Holy sh-!" the man, a short, overweight individual with long hair and a beard, immediately turns and runs the moment he sees Superman emerge from his makeshift prison.
But Kal catches him by the shirt collar, and tosses him across the room. The kidnapper crashes heavily into the far wall.
"Kal-!" I begin. But then I stop myself.
Why should I protect this man from my beloved's just wrath? This monster hurt and frightened a small, young, defenseless girl, and then tormented her parents for amusement. He is as vile as any super villain! Perhaps even more so! He deserves punishment! He deserves pain! He deserves to have all his bones crushed before he is sent back squirming to the demon that made him. For certainly, no god could possibly be responsible for creating something so heinous!
Superman lifts the kidnapper over his head with both hands, and is just about to drop the worthless bulk onto the kitchen table when-
"Are you really Superman?" Iesha asks innocently. "Or are you Batman in a Superman costume?"
His body trembling in fury, Kal is able to regain his composure. He looks at the dizzy, but otherwise, not seriously injured villain, and carefully sets him on the kitchen floor.
Then Kal smiles at the little girl and says, "I'm still Superman."
#
Another false impression many people have about Superman is his ego. They think he does this for the parades or the statues, basically turning him into a politician. Actually, as ambassador to Themyscira, I'm more of a politician than he is. Oh, he appreciates all of the attention, but he doesn't crave it. He actually finds it a little uncomfortable when he needs to make a public appearance. Humble farm boy who grew up with very few friends, bullied as a child. What did you expect?
Besides, it's not the mayor's job or the public's job to reward Superman.
That's MY job.
And, standing in front of the mirror, I try to decide what to wear when I reward him tonight. Should I go with the slinky nightie or the sexy sleep shirt? Or I could always just wear absolutely nothing save for my boots, bracelets, and tiara.
When I finally make my decision, (it's a secret. I wont tell you what I decided on) I enter our bedroom.
"Kal?" I purr seductively.
I gracefully climb into bed like a lioness.
"Oh, Kal," I purr again into his ear.
I am met with a snore.
"Kal?!" I repeat his birth name without a hint of sexuality this time.
Nothing. He's fast asleep. There is a smile on his lips that is just so peaceful, it makes it very hard for me to stay mad at him.
"You're forgiven," I whisper to him. "For now."
Then I lightly kiss him on the cheek, rest my head on his chest, and let the steady beating of his powerful heart lull me to sleep.
END