public
identities
R. L. Copple
Dr. Jenkins glanced at the patient and noticed his eyes
flickering open. A grimace spread across the man's face as he adjusted
to the light.
"Nurse, bring more covers. I don't want this patient going into
shock." Dr. Jenkins felt the patient's forehead.
The man, still in a green spandex suit and yellow cape, groaned. His
eyes widened and he jerked his hands to the top of his head. "Where's
my mask?" The words left his lips as if he had to push them out.
"It is safe, Mr. McDeal."
"But my secret identity! I can't have that in the hospital records."
"Sorry, Mr. McDeal, but there is no modesty in a hospital. No secrets."
Dr. Jenkins shook his head. Priorities, he thought. Why can't
people focus on what's important?
"But if Zinger finds out -"
"So what if he finds out? Are you going to stop being a superhero
just because this Zinger knows who you are?"
McDeal gritted his teeth. "My loved ones. They will suffer. Zinger
will attack my loved ones. That's why I wear a mask and keep a secret
identity."
"And why should you be any different from all the good cops out
there? The people they put in prison know who they are."
McDeal rolled his eyes and then glared at Dr. Jenkins. He remained silent.
Either he didn't have an answer, or his anger raged too hotly.
Dr. Jenkins thought that he had better calm the patient down, if possible.
Anger hindered recuperation.
"Mr. McDeal, what is your superhero name?"
"You mean you don't know?" His jaw dropped.
"No, I'm afraid not. I have little time to keep up with crimefighting
news."
McDeal grimaced from some hidden pain. "I'm Tornado Man."
"Tornado Man. Hmm, catchy. So, what are your powers?"
"I can whip up a pretty good storm, when I need to. Lots of wind,
up to five hundred miles per hour."
"And I take it this bullet wound is one your wind didn't catch?"
Tornado Man frowned. "Some new weapon Zinger shot at me could penetrate
my wind shields." He stared at Dr. Jenkins. "He's always inventing
ways to get through whatever defenses I put up. He's like some freakin'
computer virus."
Tornado Man's eyes widened and a grin appeared. "Of course, if
you refuse to keep my name out of the records, I'll have to send a tornado
to wipe out this facility."
Dr. Jenkins leaned over the bed and glared at the superhero. "I
come back to my question. Why the secret identity? It makes no sense."
Tornado Man lay in bed, grumbling under his breath.
Dr. Jenkins arose, grabbed the chart at the end of the bed. He moved
to the window as he studied it. "Mr. McDeal, could your need to
have a secret identity arise from self-inferiority? In your 'real' life,
you don't feel important, but as a superhero, people look up to you."
Dr. Jenkins turned to face Tornado Man, who stared at the ceiling. "Could
it be this whole superhero gig is to compensate for the need to be somebody?"
"You don't know me." Tornado Man snarled the words out. "This
is no time to play psychiatrist. My enemy has free reign over the city
as long as I'm in here." He lifted himself to a sitting position.
His head wavered.
Dr. Jenkins slipped under him as he sank to the floor. "This is
no time for heroics, Mr. McDeal. I'm afraid Zinger will have some time
to ransack the city before you are ready to go out again."
"Then we're doomed." Tornado Man grimaced as he lay back down.
"We're all doomed."
Dr. Jenkins shook his head. "Perhaps something to help you take
your mind off it all." He reached for the remote and turned on
the TV. The five o'clock news popped onto the screen.
"And now for today's breaking news. Zinger, the long time rival
of Tornado Man, died today while surrounded by the police. He claimed
to have killed Tornado Man with a new weapon. In the process of robbing
a bank, a security officer shot Zinger in the back, his one vulnerable
spot. Before he lost consciousness, he said, 'A freakin' bullet! All
this time I planned for storms, and I get hit with a bullet.'"
The TV cut off. McDeal's hands shook the remote. "I'm doomed. I'm
nobody again."
"Isn't that enough, Mr. McDeal?" Dr. Jenkins shook his head
while staring out the window at the busy city below. "Besides,
I bet you could make a killing in the demolition business."