Superhero Shrink

My next patient arrived early. He always does.

I space out my sessions. Professional therapists need time to write up notes, chill out and keep composed. These guys always come with baggage. It takes time and effort to help them. I could hear the swooping of his wings as my next patient lights on the front porch. He eased his massive frame through my people-sized door. My visitor was a giant of a man in black-and-gold spandex with wings as wide as football uprights.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” I called through my door. This patient couldn’t fit into my cozy office space, so we held sessions in the waiting room. It took a bit of scheduling work to ensure that nobody else would be visiting at the same time. I don’t do this for everyone, but the program pays triple my average billing rate, so it all works out.

I glanced over his file, reminding myself of what I need to know to help my patient. NightAngel’s real name is Herschel, and he looked up when I open my office door. His brutish eyes glare at me from behind his mask, and I suppress a sigh of frustration. He went back to wearing his mask during sessions. That wasn’t a good sign.

Time to do my job. “Hello, Herschel,” I say, sitting in one of the waiting room chairs. “I see you’re still working on your vulnerability issues.”

“Don’t start with me,” NightAngel grumbled. “It’s been a rough week.”

“So I hear. Two bank robberies and one train hijacking.”

“And it’s only Wednesday! God, I really hope the weekend is quiet because I need some down time.”

“Doesn’t the Superhero League guarantee you some paid time off?”

NightAngel snorts. “Read the fine print. PTO is subject to existing conditions and safety requirements. Approval of vacation time gets rescinded in the event of an emergency.” He leaned back against the wall of the building, causing the studs to squeal in protest. “They never run out of excuses to keep me stuck in the barn.”

I nodded, jotting notes on my yellow legal pad. “Talk to me some more about that.”

“There’s nothing else to tell. They need a flight-capable superhero on call. Quasar and Lightspeed are off on their publicity tour. I’m the guy.”

“You’ve talked about this before.” I wanted to keep the conversation focused. “That this schedule impacts your personal life.”

“That’s right.”

“Is it still doing that? Impacting your personal life?”

“What personal life?” Herschel laughed bitterly and slapped the floor in frustration. The entire building shook. “I haven’t been out there on one date since the divorce.”

“Right.” I consulted my notes. “You haven’t been in a relationship with anyone since your ex-wife Clarice?”

“Clarice doesn’t even know me. Part of the divorce required extensive neural pathway regeneration.”

I shot NightAngel a puzzled look. “What does that mean?”

“They wiped her memory!” he yelled in frustration. “I kept the memories; she kept the checkbook and the house.”

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