I could have been Superman

“Hey, grab another bier, man. Yeah, sorry, I’m usually more polite, but tonight I’m a bit rattled. Yes, thank you. Why am I rattled? Oh, so we’re doing that now, are we? A man walks into a bar and unburdens his soul to the kind bartender who always lends an ear. Just like in the movies. Sure, why not? Let’s do it. As it seems, you have time, I don’t see any other customersaround, and it’s not that I’m planing to come back again. No offence, man, but your bar is not really my cup of tea. Yours neither? Hahaha! Looks like we’re on the same page on that.

So, you want to know what brought me here, surely you arewondering if something happened tonight that changed my life forever. The truth is that I can’t figure it out yet. That’s why I decided to have a drink. Maybe this would take the edge off and make me think straight. So, to satisfy your curiosity, nothing earth-shattering, life-changing, irreversible happened. It’s just that a beautiful woman jumped into my arms. Yes, I’m serious. Has a woman ever jumped into your arms, just like that? No? I figured. That’s the dream, isn’t it? Not to lift a finger and still have a beautiful woman leap into your arms out of nowhere. That’s exactly what happened tonight. Yes, I’m not kidding, man. How did it happen? If you stop interrupting, I’ll tell you. Thanks. I appreciate it.

I had just finished work, sometimes I have to work late, it’s how it is, and I was still wired, so I decided to take a walk to clear my head before heading home. I enjoy walking around after the sun has set. The city glows differently, itchanges gears, some things stir to life, others retreat until dawn. Some things move quicker and others slower. The city hums differently.The artificial lights are a reminder, that we are humans and need light to live. Without light, we cannot see where we are going.And the dusk, well the dusk is the time for existential questions and aches.

It was that moment, the transition from day to night, when it happened. I was walking towards Friedrichstraße, you know, the S-Bahn station. They are building again there, I don’t know what exactly. It’s crazy, man. They’re always building or renovating in this city. And even though Berlin is spacious, they mess up the flow with all these perennial construction sites. They disrupt the rhythm. They squeeze the streets and make everything tighter and uglier, sometimes even after they have finished. I suppose, you also live here, therefore you know what I’m talking about.Have you noticed the pedestrian walkway they threw in just before the station? Yes, exactly next to the street, through the construction site. That’s where I was walking. This roofed walkway is wooden and it creaks and gives slightly with every step, while cars pass so close, they nearly scrape its outer edge. It’s supposed to offer protection, but it feels flimsy and run-down and brings people dangerously close to the cars. So much for safety. Anyway, as I was walking, I was replaying in my head things that happened in the office today, I was engrossed in my thoughts, the same thoughts I was trying to silence by walking, when the girl jumped into my arms, screaming as if she was being skinned alive. In a country like Germany, people maintain their distance. They don’t even touch each other, so imagine my surprise when she attacked me like that. Man I’m telling you, I nearly had a heart attack. I immediately entered this flee-or-fight response. I instinctively grabbed her like a bride on the first wedding night and looked frantically around, trying to figure out what had triggered her reaction. There was nothing conspicuous in sight. It was just the two of us on the narrow dark walkway. You know, they don’t illuminate these walkways and sure, it’s kind of creepy there. So there I was, heart racing, senses on high alert, scanning the shadows, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, holding the screaming girl in my arms while she was scrambling to climb higher. What is it? I yelled at her. What happened? I stood there completely overwhelmedand her panic reached a peek. I’m telling, you, man, the poor thing was completely freaking out. At that point I realised that she was not just screaming. She was saying something like Leave, Walk, Move, and in my confusion, adrenaline pumping through my veins, I did just that and marched forward.

She was such a tiny thing, I don’t think she even reached above my chest. She was so light, I could carry her easily, even as she scrambled in panic. And she was young, barely over 20 years old.As you can see, tonight I got to be the star of a blockbuster about an innocent, helpless damsel in distress who comes together with the valiant, broad shoulderedhero in the most paradox way, and he, well he is ready to step in and protect her from… Well, to protect her, from whatever lurks out there. I was playing my part brilliantly. I was carrying her bravely to safety. She was gripping my arm so tightly it left marks. Look, they’re still there. And the fingers of her other hand were digging into my back, like a lover's in a moment of passion. I kept shushing her, telling her it was all okay, soothing her like you would a baby. Why would I do that? What a question! I told you already, man, I was the star of the blockbuster, the handsome muscular saviour, the man of the hour, the shiny hero. Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!

Why did she freak out? Well, grab another beer and I’ll tell you. Thanks. Cheers. So, I was walking with her in my arms. She had stopped screaming, but she was out of breath, trembling all over and breathing shallowly. I could feel her heart pounding againstmy body. Man, I never thought anyone could be that afraid. I’ve got to admit, I was a bit anxious, even with my nearly two-meter frame.I thought that someone had attacked her, that she barely escaped with her life, I thought that we were both in grave danger. But, you know, danger reveals itself differently to a man my size and to a girl as small and delicate as she was. So as I was walking, whispering soothing thing to her and looking over my shoulder, I was trying to figure out the safest place for both of us to go. I decided the station would be best, Friedrichstraße is one of Berlin’s busiest stations, and the police headquarters are right next door.

As we got there, the girl had calmed down more or less, but she was still clung to my arm and was trembling uncontrollably. People were looking at us, the poor, pale, teary thing in my arms and me with dread and confusion in the eyes. A woman asked if we were alright. I didn’t know what to answer, so I marched on into the station. The stores were still open and people were running around minding their business as they usually do. The light was harsh and it took us by surprise. It made us somehow snap out of the state of alarm we were in. I say we, but obviously I’m talking about me. She was still very scared. So I asked, cautiously, if she’d be alright if I set her down. It was a very strange feeling, being physically so close to a complete stranger, but we were not strangers anymore. There was a peculiar familiarity between us, I don’t know how to explain it. No, I had never seen her before, I would have remembered. She was very pretty, very very pretty.She nodded and I lowered her gently to the ground. Only then did I notice the stain her tears had left on my shirt. She was still trembling but she was calmer and breathing better. Before I could say anything, she asked me in a tiny little hesitant stuttering voice if I could stay with her till it went away. I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I sat beside her on the dirty station steps, not sure if putting my arm around her would help or cross a line.

Come on, man, is that really all you’re thinking about? I told you, yeah, she was pretty, even with mascara smudged down her cheeks and terror in her eyes. But I don’t go in for that kind of talk. She wasn’t some random chick, and I’m not going to comment on her body like that. I’ll just say this: she was pretty in a fragile way. She had big, blue, captivating eyes and dark short hair. That’s all you need to know. See? I’m obviously the romantic hero that respects his co-star and defends her honour from the slimy bartender’s lewd remarks. Hahaha! Now, seriously, I don’t like that kind of talk.

I wasstill very confused and sorry for her. She was sitting there, her face in her palms, sobbing and saying she’s very sorry and that she’s a loser and how is it possible, and that she’s terrible. I decided to gently touch her shoulder and ask if she needed anything. Some water? Should I call someone? Was there anything else I could do? She said no and wiped her tears. She was still gasping for air. Can… can you hold me just for a little while? Please? And sorry. I’m so sorry for putting you through this! That’s what she said and started sobbing again. So I held her, of course I did. That’s what the romantic lead in the movies does, isn’t it? And I kept repeating whatever soft, comforting words came to mind. Don’t worry, everything’s fine, you’re safe here, shhh, everything’s good, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, try taking a deep breath. That’s my girl. Another one now. Nice! I mean, can you imagine that? Having a beautiful girl in your arms without even trying? But right then, it didn’t feel sexual at all, maybe because my puzzlement clouded the parts on my brain that handle logic, desire, lust... It didn’t feel sexual,even if I could feel her warmth and her heartbeat against my body, her tiny breasts against my stomach, her cheek plastered on my sternum, her tears damping my shirt, her rapid breath against my skin, even if I could smell her shampoo. I had this urge to protect her and make this right. Maybe it was her compelling eyes filled with fear and tears that spoke to the father in me. Yeah, I have a child. No, no, we separated years ago, but I see my boy as often as I can, even if my ex hates me and wants me out of their life. Yeah, maybe I’ll tell you all about it. Isn’t that what the bartender does in the movies? He stands there with an indifferent, slightly bored expression, polishing a glass while listening to some soggy life story unravel across the counter? Hahaha!

Well, holding her did help. She was getting calmer. After a while, I don't know how long,she stopped trembling and started breathing normally. I was patting her back like you do to a baby, when she suddenly recoiled and took a step back and broke free. I’m so sorry! This is so embarrassing! I’m so sorry! I can’t thank you enough. Really, thank you! She wiped her tears. I searched in my pockets for a tissue, but found none. I’m so sorry I put you through this, she said. No, no don’t apologise, but please do tell me, are you in danger? Should I call the police? What happened to you? She sniffed and looked around as if she was trapped. Oh, it’s nothing, she said. This was not nothing, honey. Something made you freak out. Well, my friend, you won’t believe what she told me. You just won’t. The poor thing started crying again and hid her face in her hands, so I hurried and told her, sorry, honey, I didn’t want to upset you again. I just want to know if you are safe and if there’s anything else I can do for you. She shook her head and tried to get a hold of herself. I’m safe, don’t worry, no need to call the police, sorry, it’s just ridiculous. It’s really ridiculous. It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic. Her lips were trembling, she was fighting back tears. Maybe it was the only time, since our bizarre first encounter, that I actually knew exactly what to say. I looked her deep into her eyes and said, dead serious, listen, honey, anything that hit you that hard can’t be ridiculous. Not even close. She looked at me, lowered her eyes, she hesitated. ‘I saw a mouse,’ she whispered, avoiding my eyes. Don’t laugh, man, it’s not funny. Yes, for real. She saw a mouse and freaked out. You see, the blockbuster goes on. Isn’t it the perfect cliché? A woman freaks out at the sight of a mouse, and the brave hero swoops in to save her. No, man, don’t laugh. It really isn’t funny.And don’t get me wrong, I don’t imply that I like the little rascals. Sure, they are disgusting, but I never knew they could inflict such horror to a person. Oh, stop laughing now, there’s really nothing to laugh about. You should have seen that poor girl’s horror…

What did I do? Nothing. I did nothing. I was so surprised, that I just repeated what she said. A mouse? Yes, she whispered, and those baby blues of hers filled again. I… I get panic attackswhen I see them. I can’t control it. She fidgeted with her fingers, nervously twisting the little stone on her ring, stealing anxious glances at me, waiting for a reaction, a reassurance, something, perhaps the wise words that would rock her world and make her fear disappear for good. She got nothing. I stood there like a fucking piece of stone, absolutely gobsmacked and before I could find something to say, she thanked me hastily, she said she’s alright, and that she’s ready to go home and good night and thank you again, you really helped me a lot. Then she turned and walked away, still murmuring things like Thank you, You’re a good man, Goodnight, Sorry I wasted your time, I’m alright, Bye now, over her shoulder.

She vanished up the stairs into the night, she got lost in the city’s shadows. I stood there still stunned, like some idiot, watching in the direction where shedisappeared. I didn’t even get to ask her name, you know? My shirt was soaked in her tears and stained by her makeup, my arm still bears the impression of her grip, I can still feel the softness of her skin on my fingertips, the impression of her tiny body against mine, the scent of her hair, and I don’t even know her name. Was it Lea? Anna? Amalia? Christina? Paula?Ella? Charlotte? Marie? Antonia? Now I’ll never know.

Get me another beer, man, I got depressed. Why? What do you mean why? Shit, I’m gettingdrunk already, but you know what? What the hell? Let’s get completely wasted. Get me a whiskey instead. Yes, straight. No ice. You know what’s still vivid in my mind, even now? Her eyes. I still feel her wary gaze. Yes. Her eyes and the fact that a tiny creature like a mouse, could fill thosebeautiful eyes with such horror, because, yeah, man, she was beautiful, very beautiful, very. And she was a nice kid, you could see it in her clear and kind eyes, you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?And she was so embarrassed when she left and I am to blame, only me. I did that to her. She was so sincere, she told me what happened, she revealed a deep secret, something that probably not many people know about her, maybe not even the ones closest to her, and I just froze and didn’t know what to say, and now she’s gone man, she’s gone. She just left, and me, the great starof the movie, I didn’t do anything to stop her. I didn’t follow her. I didn’t offer to bring her to safety, to call a cab, to keep her company. I just stood there like a statue. What kind of person leaves a girl alone in the city in the night and goes to a ratty bar to get drunk? What kind of big hero leaves a girl alone in the night, and not any girl, a girl so scared, thatwould rather leap into the arms of a complete stranger twice her age and size just to escape a tiny mouse.Who leaves a troubled kid alone with its demons? She was not safe, man, not safe at all, and I’m the one who’s pathetic, that’s why I’m getting drunk. I failed to be the hero she needed. I had my chance and I fucking messed it up and now I will never see her again. Today I could have been Superman andI blew it. Fucking hell… Cheers.”