“I didn’t help someone who needed me yesterday.”  

The woman spoke with a catch in her voice though she did not cry. Like everyone else in the room, she looked young for her age and was fit. Many of the people there bore scars or wore eye patches, and a few were missing a limb or two. The room itself was plain and unadorned. The two dozen or so seats were arranged in a wide circle and everyone sat facing one another. Most were dressed in their street clothes though a few wore the suits of their former careers. The whiteboard in the room bore the message Retired Super Heroes Anonymous.

   “It wasn’t anything big, even,” the woman went on, “Just a run of the mill smash and grab in the grocery parking lot but…I didn’t stop them. Everything just hurts so much these days, every part of my body, you know?”

  Many in the circle nodded.

  “No one ever talks about the pain when you first start out, do they,” an older man spoke up. “In the beginning it’s just all about you, your powers, and saving the day. I remember the days when I could take a bullet to the face and keep on going. I could get run over by a train and pull myself back up. When it was all said and done I might take a day or two to rest but I’d be up and at them as soon as I could.”

  The woman nodded. “I think, for me, I really started to notice it in others when Wonder Man announced his retirement. Sure I’d heard of heroes retiring before but I never really paid it any attention until I was one myself; there was always the next big up and coming hero ready to take their place. But I’d fought side by side with Wonder Man…and I saw the pain building in those last couple of years, knew he was taking longer and longer to recuperate from each fight, but it wasn’t until he announced his retirement that it really hit me. He wasn’t retiring because he was done fighting crime. I knew first hand how much he loved protecting the innocent. He was retiring because he couldn’t take the pain any more.”

  “After so many years,” the older man agreed, “after so many injuries, even our super bodies stop healing as fast or as well.”

    “My first injury that never fully healed,” the woman went on, “started out as a slight twinge in my shoulders after I caught the space station and put it back into orbit.”

  Many in the group smiled and nodded appreciatively, obviously remembering the event fondly.

  “I dislocated both shoulders during that mission and fractured three vertebrae between my shoulder blades. That wasn’t really too out of the ordinary, but it took me four days to heal, and like I said, there was that twinge ever since. Next I started having pain in my legs from the nerve damage, and, yeah, I guess you all know how it goes.”

  Again the group nodded and more than a few began massaging various joints absentmindedly. The older man scratched his chin for a moment and then asked, “How have you been adjusting to regular life?”

  “It’s…quiet,” she replied in a defeated voice. “I use to just fly around at home to take the weight off my back and legs, but since I’m home so much more of the time now, I figured it would only be a matter of time before a neighbor spotted me, so I’ve moved into a smaller, single story home where I don’t have to walk as much. I’m still at my old job doing the accounting for the local youth community center. I tried to volunteer at a food bank but…they need people who can handle being on their feet.”

  “I’m glad you’ve been able to find some solutions at least,” the older man said, “and I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you at the food bank. I know we all like to find ways to still help out our communities.”

  The woman pursed her lips as she fought to hold back the words that she wanted to say. The words that had been building in her ever since her retirement. The words that had brought her to tonight’s meeting.

  “It’s alright,” another in the circle said. “We all chose to be heroes, and it’s our right to say when we’re done.”

  “But how can I say no when my city keeps begging for me to go back?” the woman demanded with rising passion. “How can I look my neighbor in the eye while he talks about how betrayed he feels by my retirement? He doesn’t even know that it’s me he’s talking about, and I just have to stand there and listen as he goes over the very same arguments that I’ve had running through my mind. And…and…” her voice broke and she took a  moment to regain her composure. “I agree with everything he says,” she stated in defeat. “How could I have abandoned my post when there are so few super heroes right now? How can I turn a blind eye to the rise of so many super villains? How can I refuse to help when I still have breath in my lungs?”

  “It’s the same for me,” the youngest in the group spoke up. His voice, like his body, had a constant quaver to it. “But then I think of the pain. I think of the pills I swallow each morning so that I can go about my day. I think of my legs giving out when I try to stand up and forget to use my cane.”

  “I think of that last time I put on the suit,” another in the group added, “and how I let my fellow heroes down. How I couldn’t get to that kid in time because my spine felt like it was on fire from all the movement I was doing and…and having to tell the parents that I wasn’t fast enough, all the while every joint in my body was screaming with pain and I was sweating from the effort to just stay standing.”

  It was quiet in the room for a while, each of them lost in their own thoughts for a time. Finally, the older man broke the silence.

  “It was a lot easier to retire when there were new heroes eager to fill your shoes,” he said. “But nowadays heroes are lucky to even have a sidekick. People don’t bother anymore, don’t try to be super, and so there are simply fewer super heroes today.”

  The woman shook her head. “There’s still plenty of people who become super,” she said darkly. “But instead of becoming heroes they’re becoming villains. Maybe they’ve seen what we didn’t and decided it wasn’t worth it. Maybe they’re right.”

  Many in the room looked as though they’d been slapped in the face while others grimaced solemnly in agreement.

  “How dare you!” one of them shouted.

  “She’s right,” another countered, “society has taken us for granted for too long and now they’re paying the price!”

  “You’re just as bad as those super villains if you think—

SILENCE

  None of them heard it, but they all felt it, as the idea of ‘silence’ was forced into their minds and they had no choice but to stop arguing.

  “I’m sorry I had to do that,” the older man said to the many scowling faces. “There’s enough pain and conflict in our lives as it is without us adding our own bitterness into the mix. Sure times are tough, but they’ve always been tough. Every generation has their trials and every generation has to find their way through it.”

  “But,” the woman began and her gaze was intense as she stared in desperation at the older man, “what if—

  “What if Rome burns?” he interrupted. “Or Troy falls?” His voice was rising and the air crackled with power as his eyes began to glow. “Civilizations rise and fall! Tragedy! Death! Injustice!”

    Some members in the circle edged their seats back as the older man grew more intense.

  “There were heroes in every age, during every catastrophe and did they fail just because those terrible things happened? It’s EASY being a hero in the good times,” he raged, beating the floor with his foot and shattering the tile where it struck, “when the worst you have to deal with is being on time to your book signings, but each and every one of you in this room were heroes in some of the darkest times we’ve had in a very long time. And it’s cost each of us dearly.”

  He reigned in his powers and smoothed back his hair. He was sweating from the exertion and it was clear that the strain was causing him severe pain.

  “Those who complain about super heroes retiring,” he went on in controlled tones, “don’t know what we each sacrificed to be their heroes. And it’s not their fault. That can’t know what we’ve been through. So don’t be angry with them.”

  “So what do we do, then?” the woman asked. “What can we do?”

  “Be kind,” came the response. “You want to know why I think so few are choosing to become super heroes? It’s because of us. We’re in pain, and we get frustrated and sometimes angry at everything we can’t do anymore, and they feel that. So instead of getting upset because you can’t do everything you use to do, maybe slow down and learn to be okay with what you can do. We’re all so use to being the one’s who saved the day that we don’t know how to ask for help, let alone be humble enough to accept it when it’s offered.”

  He checked his watch and let out a low sigh. “It’s getting late,” he said, “But before you all go, I want you to take this next week to think about what you can do, instead of what you can’t. I’ll see you all next week and I look forward to hearing about each of your victories.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, one by one they rose to their feet and made their way to the exit. Last to leave was the woman and the older man. Though he stood tall and straight there was a weariness to his posture and he slowly began stacking the chairs. The woman helped, both of them moving with a slow and measured pace until the chairs were all put away.

  “Are they going to be okay about the floor?” the woman asked.

  The older man chuckled, hands on his hips as he surveyed the damage. “Yeah, I’ll give them a call in the morning and explain the situation.”

  “Listen, about what you said,” the woman began, “about focusing on what we can do.”

  “Yes, I—

  She struck out with her hand and sunk her fingers deep into his chest above his heart. Shock froze on his face as the color drained from it.

  “What…what are you doing?” he gasped. His eyes flickered with light briefly before dimming once more and he sank to the floor.

  “I’m focusing on what I can do,” she said through gritted teeth as her eyes began to glow, “I’ve always been able to steal the strength and powers of others, but I’ve never used it until today,” she gasped. “Since you and everyone else seems determined to sit back and do nothing with what power you have left then I’m going to take  it from each of you, one by one, until I can bear the pain again…and then we’ll see what else I can do.”