We Might Not Be Heroes: Liddy, Later

I was going to volunteer to fight

But I wasn’t sure what they were looking for

I do have a talent most people don’t have

But I wouldn’t say it’s all that…useful

I can levitate

I’ve been able to do it

Ever since I was a kid

But I can’t go very high

Only a few feet

My mother was the opposite of me

She could sink

Deep into the ground

And I doubt that would have been useful

To anybody either

But floating four feet above the earth

Doesn’t seem like it would come in handy

For fighting alien hordes, does it?

And also…I’m afraid

I’m afraid that even if I can’t do anything

They’re going to make me try

And I’m not a very courageous person

My mother was

She was strong and determined

And she would have punched an alien in the face

Without thinking twice about it

Even if he had a laser gun

Or tentacles for arms

But I’m not like my mother

I live a very quiet life

I work at the cosmetics department at Nordstrom’s

I was married, then divorced, then married again

One kid from the first marriage, two kids from the—

Oh God, why am I telling you this?

You don’t care

You’re not interested in me

You just want to know if I’m going to sign up or not

Well, I don’t know

I don’t know

I barely even use my powers

Do you know the last time I levitated?

Four years ago

--And it wasn’t even intentional

My son was playing outside

And he fell down and scraped his elbow

Little red specks of blood like ants

Creeping up his arm

Nothing major

But children feel things so much more than we do

I know I did when I was younger

I picked my son up

--I could do that then, he’s too big now, but—

I held him in my arms

And I said ‘It’s okay, it’s okay’

As soothing as I could

And he stopped crying

And then he looked down and gasped—

‘Mommy,’ he said, ‘We’re flying’

Then I looked down and realized

We were levitating

Something about needing to comfort my child

Sent me into a state of levity

Without me even realizing it

I didn’t want to scare him

So I said, ‘Yup, Mommy can fly sometimes’

And he said, ‘Okay, Mommy, just don’t go any higher.’

And I said, ‘No, I won’t.  I promise’

And I didn’t

I promised

Mothers can do things

That other people can’t

And other people can do things

That mothers can’t

That’s just how it is

We can burrow into the earth

And we can alleviate the pain of our children

By lifting them up just high enough

So that the things on the ground

Can’t hurt them

But things that come from the sky?

I don’t know how to protect anybody from that

My son asked me if I was going to volunteer

He remembered the time he flew

He never forgot it

And I don’t lie to him

So when he asked if he imagined it, I said—

‘No, sweetie, you didn’t.’

I couldn’t tell him that Mommy can’t really fly

That she can only float

That somebody who could fly

Would be very valuable to a lot of people

But that someone who can float is just…

Well, not much different than somebody who can’t

When he asked me if I was going to volunteer

I said, ‘I don’t know.  I don’t think so.  I wouldn’t want to leave you behind.’

He looked at me and said, ‘Mom, if you can do something

You should do it’

And I thought about it, and…

Maybe my mother wasn’t brave

Maybe she just seemed brave to me

Because I was her kid

And she was my hero, you know?

Maybe bravery isn’t something inside of us

Maybe it’s something other people give us

Maybe it comes from our kids, or our parents

Or the people who need us to be heroes

My son said, ‘You can fly, Mom.’

And I thought, Maybe I can fly

Maybe I’ve always just been too afraid

To see if I could

And maybe it’s time

I find out