I need a hero

Jessica is squeezed between two large females. This was the only seat available when she entered the carriage. Normally, she wouldn’t care much for a seat. However, this day is a day which requires the art of sitting. In less than an hour, she will be sitting down for her final examination. The two previous ones were done over a space of 12 months each. This one had to be rushed – a new job is on the horizon! Without this last one, a difference of close to half a million’s worth of earnings is on the line.

She makes her way through the crowded subway and emerges onto the pavement on Dennis Avenue. From there it is a mere 20 minutes leisurely stroll, where she will arrive at the examination venue, just in time to take her seat for the mandatory reading of the rule book.

The train ride was meant to still her mind. However, the cancellation of an earlier train meant that this one was packed. The thirty-minute ride became one of observation and characterization.  

Two young men entered the carriage at Richmond station. They quickly glanced at the packed community, and then collectively reached for their hoodies to pull it closer over their heads. They then reached into their backpacks. At that moment, in my mind, I slowed down their movements, and imagined a scenario which called for Iron Man.

In no time will he fly across the carriage. His speed will move scarfs, hats, newspapers and the uneven thin novel. They will not know what hit them. Before they are able to reach for their weapons, he will connect his iron knees to their rib cages, and for a moment confusion will reign, over the choice which must be made between automatic human reaction and the maintenance of a military stance.

 They will be stronger than anticipated, and only momentarily struggle against the door. Then they will reach for their weapons. But Iron Man will dissolve them quickly, with the rays which blast from the palms of his gauntlets. With much fury, and bleeding egos, they will exit through the window, as the train slows down at the next station.

As I wait for the green access to be granted at the pedestrian crossing, I smile. Once again, the strength of evil has been overcome by super strength.

The crowd becomes more uneasy as the clocks of the masters demand an increase in activity. The pace of conversations increase, walks are mini jogs, and the acknowledgment of an acquaintance remains a nod.  The term ‘break’ becomes laughable, as there are faster moving people during lunch time, then before or after this break. Inside their concrete walls, they long for time to speed up. Outside those walls, they long for it to slow down. They no longer have control over any aspect of their lives.

I have reached the building, aptly named ‘The Last Monument’. I have ten minutes to spare before I need to be seated. The sensation in my belly has returned. The train ride was meant to quell it. Instead it is magnified to the point where it cannot be ignored. Surely, I am prepared. Or is it a sign of humility? Or humor?  I am not strong enough to fight it. I meant to leave it on the train. Then I meant to leave it in the crowd. It is still here.

Can I summon Thor to modify the reluctant sunlight, into a raging storm of pitiful anger? Can I request a manipulation of energy, so that time can be converted into a space of my own design?

I want to force emotions to dance to the tune of a thought. Come on Thor! Be the force I know you can be!

I want to choose what I want to feel, and when I want to feel it. This feeling is not welcome now. This feeling of fear of the unknown must be replaced by a power of invincibility.

A fellow student greets me as he passes. I slowly ascend the stairs. Once inside the examination room, the skill of finding my module, my row and my seat become a game. It is a game which I cannot master silently. It does provoke the curiosity of a crowd. They want to see abilities, craftsmanship and exceptional movement to prevent the disturbance of a neatly prepared battle desk. And yet the number of disturbances keep on rising. And the number of the enemy keep on rising.

I call on the powers of the Black Widow to deter the curious eyes. But the Wonder Woman resemblance has them mesmerized. And they keep staring at the fight between useless embarrassment and confusing humor. Can I turn this fight into a dance? Can I release this mindset of loss of control onto this crowd? Surely, they have voted and thus remain open to manipulation!

Two hours later I emerge from this building. I am steady. I walk upright and my head is held high. I have seen the battlefield. And I have the seen the carnage. I have seen the pain and bewilderment. I have seen the disappointment, with the desks remaining still and obedient.

Sweat and red faces have conveyed the pace and rhythm of the heart.

I have dived among the debris of once overzealous hands and eyes. I could see small peaks of underwhelmed student minds. Through the web of policies and agendas, I could barely make out the warriors. Those who refused to be side-lined because of culture and beliefs. I witnessed the bravery of the nameless, the faceless and the formless.  I just waited. I waited under the branch. The branch camouflaged by numbers, charts and lines. And I emerged when only MY breathing was audible.

They slowly start to retreat to the various corners to make preparations for a long existence. I feel light, I feel strong, I can see clearly. I am calm.

On these stairs I stand. Now you can call me Batman.