Superhero Therapist: Climate Change
“Please don’t call me that,” my client says to me.
I glance up. “You don’t want me to call you EcoKnight?”
“No, call me Lawrence,” the rumpled figure shifts on my couch. “I didn’t put enough time into choosing my name and now I’m stuck with it. I’d rather be Lawrence or Larry or heck,” he put his palms up, “call me Sue.”
“The boy named Sue?” I chuckle. “I love Johnny Cash.”
“Even Sue’s a step in the right direction. I get Tweets all day from people. ‘They call you EcoKnight because you’re an economy superhero!’ I want to choke every last one of those little fools.”
“Now, now,” I make a small note every time my superhero client threatens violence. Little tick marks will stretch across the top of my yellow notepad by the time this session ends. “That’s not superhero talk.”
“Who cares? I was up all night putting a town back together after a couple of the kids decided to mix things up.” He waggles a finger toward the window. “Old buildings fall down, they release heavy metals and asbestos. Get that dust down before the residents of Fond Du Lac, Wisconsin get Nine-Eleven Syndrome.” My client massages his eyes. “Getting too old for these last-minute emergency cleanups. You got any coffee?”
I nod toward the small kitchen next to my office. “Keurig machine’s in there. Make one for me too, okay?” When he stands, I can’t tell which crackles more: EcoKnight’s silver lamé unitard, or his knees. I lean my head back, thinking about what he said. Then I call through the thin office walls: “You can control the dust patterns, too?”
“Molecular recomposition techniques,” he says over the bubbling coffee maker. “Disperse the airborne irritants by dismantling them in real-time. The trick is to disconnect their polymer chains without disrupting the surrounding air.” He reappears with two steaming mugs and hands one to me. “It takes a lot of concentration.”
“That’s amazing,” I say, but he shrugs in dismissal.
“It’s the lamest version of telekenisis in the history of the world.” Lawrence points at the potted plant sitting on the coffee table between us. “I can put all the dust on the ground but I can’t pick up that pot. What am I supposed to do with that, anyway? Even little kids can push me around.”
I nod, reminding myself that Lawrence’s short stature has been a source of irritation for him for many years. My client is one of the old guard in the Superheroes Union. Plucked from obscurity in his teens, EcoBoy’s talent put him at the scene of many battlefields. His unique abilities for healing the planet kept him in sharp demand through the First Wars. The ravages of a superhero fight took their toll. Over time, EcoBoy grew into EcoKnight, but the job remained the same. So did his status within the Union: always needed but rarely appreciated. “Why don’t you change the suit?” I ask. “People might take you more serious than they have.”
Lawrence shakes his head. “Nah, the silver lamé is my trademark. Part of my licensing deal is that I can’t change the color of my uniform.”
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Nah. At least when I transitioned out of being ‘EcoBoy’ I got to put my underwear on the inside of my pants.” He sips his hot beverage in silence for a moment. “I gotta admit, those things are bad for the planet but they make good coffee.”
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