A Superman

Superman

I’m eleven and watching Superman for the first time.

I see the following scene on the screen:

Metropolis. A helicopter is dangling off the Daily Planet building. Lois Lane is hanging by one hand. The city is screaming. Superman rockets upward, cape snapping, and catches her mid-fall.

LOIS: (breathless) “You’ve got me? Who’s got you?”

SUPERMAN: (smiling, hovering) “Don’t worry, I’ve—”

A window shatters from nowhere.

BAM! Snake Guy is standing on the ledge. He’s not flying. He’s just up there.

SNAKE GUY: “Put her down, cape.”

SUPERMAN: “I just saved her lif—”

SNAKE GUY: “Yeah and now you’re hovering. It’s weird. Put her down.”

Superman sets Lois gently on the rooftop. Snake Guy checks her pulse by sort of looking at her from four feet away.

SNAKE GUY: “She’s fine.”

LOIS: “Who are you?”

SNAKE GUY: “Oak Park Snake Guy.”

LOIS: “Do you… fly?”

SNAKE GUY: “No.”

LOIS: “Then how did you get up here?”

SNAKE GUY: “Fast.”

Superman crosses his arms. He is not accustomed to this.

SUPERMAN: “I can see through walls. I can fly. I’m invulnerable. I have heat vision. I can reverse time.”

SNAKE GUY: (long pause) “Can you get a kingsnake out of a bush?”

SUPERMAN: “I… what?”

SNAKE GUY: “Didn’t think so.”

Snake Guy hucks Lois’s broken shoe off the roof. A snake catches it forty stories below.

SNAKE GUY: (already leaving) “You’re doing great, big guy. Love the cape. Catch you on Facebook.”

Superman floats there for a moment, alone, genuinely unsure if he just lost.

He did.