Trigger Warning
George could not remove his costume.
The red knee socks and boots, the blue body stocking, the red hotpants were a second skin. He sat on the edge of the bed and picked at them but just grew frustrated.
Myra came in and stood before him. She re-spun the curl of his forelock with her pinky.
“Ooo, Superman! Are you truly the man of steel?”
He admired her Wonder Woman boobs. “Yes, I am.”
They had very nearly engaged in Superhero sex before the party. Now was the time.
“Well…,” purred Myra.
But he couldn’t get the damn suit off.
She laughed. Stripped hers off in front of him.
“Uhhh!” He tugged at the shorts.
“Really?” Myra left him. She pulled back the covers and slid in. “Whenever you’re ready, Superman.”
He woke up on the couch.
Myra came out of the bedroom, shook her head. He resumed the struggle. He took it to the kitchen where he tore at himself furiously – “uhh!” – rocking around until he tripped and fell, sprawling the tile.
Myra rushed in…
“Are you OK?!”
“I CANNOT get this OFF!”
She looked him over and then bent to grab a boot. “It’s just tight?”
She tugged but it didn’t budge. She grimaced and bore down. Nothing.
“This is stupid.”
She left and returned with scissors. “We’ll just have to eat the deposit…”
“Um…” George considered the money. “Go ahead.”
Myra slid a scissor blade between the tights material and the boot and carefully turned it to cut. And it wouldn’t cut.
“What is this MADE of?”
“Try the belt.”
Same result.
She straightened. And laughed. She handed him the scissors and walked away. Laughing.
He tried a sleeve. Then the belt again. Not a single thread could he cut.
The Costume Store didn’t open until noon. He would wait it out here at home except that Myra wouldn’t shut up.
“Stop a speeding bullet? A train? Leap tall buildings? C’mon, Superman! You can’t even take your pants off.”
So he pulled the loosest pair he owned over the boots and the tights and a hoody over the S shirt. He could live with the red shoes.
When he stepped outside he looked up at the sky. What a clear day! He could see forever.
“Hey! You with the red shoes!”
A kid was leaning out around the raised hood of a parked car up the street.
“Help me push? Just a little. Got to get rolling.”
George frowned. Looked around. There was an older couple window shopping between him and the kid but no one else.
He walked to him but didn’t commit yet.
The kid pointed. “Just through the intersection. Then I can roll downhill.”
George remained silent.
“They’re gonna tow it, man.”
George sighed. Nodded and stepped in between the parked cars to shove the kid’s.
“All right!” The kid dropped the hood and hopped over to the driver’s, got her in Neutral and stood alongside with a hand on the wheel.
George felt the trunk move against his palms and pushed back. “I’m going…”
“Yeah!” shouted the kid. “Man, you’re strong!”
Really. The car was nothing to move. They had the light so he gave it all he had.
The car shot away from him, leaving the kid sprawled in the intersection. It left the asphalt, a jet taking off, while George, the kid and now the older couple, open-mouthed, watched it grow smaller.
Its trajectory appeared to be centered on the new, all glass Transportation Station several blocks down. Sure enough, after it flipped into a slow cartwheel, the car hit the roof like a rock through thin ice. It took a moment but then an immense crashing of glass washed over the group on George’s street.
The kid, up from the pavement, spun around and pointed at George. “He did it! He did it!”
The older couple, still open-mouthed, stared at George.
He turned and fled.
He ran so fast that his feet didn’t seem to touch the ground. Maybe they weren’t – he raised his arms and…
…he was flying!
BOOM!
He broke the sound barrier and kept going. His street clothes peeled away. Ha! He would circle back, show Myra: can’t take off my pants, but I can fly. Can you?
But the thrill vanished when the enormity of what he’d done overtook him. People might be dead!
He flew up and away from the Earth, tears vaporizing into a contrail.
What would Superman do?
George flew upward and then hovered. Earth was down there, a round thing in the dark.
Fly around it faster and faster until it stops and then spin it backward. That’s what Superman would do. Reverse time. Back to when he was just George.
He dropped back to within a few miles of earth and flew around the planet east to west. Willing himself into speeds greater than light he passed himself again and again.
The shadow of night and the light of day slowed their creeping across the land until they stopped. Then they were creeping in the opposite direction. He flew on and on.
People must be walking backward. Ha!
But he should have counted the reverse rotations to get him back two days. Had he overdone it? Should he fly the other way and restart it now? What the hell…
Something stopped George on his way to pick up the costume. It stopped everyone else in the world, too. For an instant. Then the something was gone and everything was done.
George was not aware that he had canceled the future. And the present was no longer new. There was only a vast past.
He put one foot behind the other and kept going.