Melanie waved at the reporter when he stepped into the coffee shop. Sipping her jasmine tea, she took in his lean frame. He looked so much younger, unmasked. 

 

"Thank you again for speaking with me, Ms. Holly." 

Taking the seat across from her, the reporter folded his long legs under the table. His forehead was unlined, his jawline still soft. 

 

"You can call me Melanie, Mr. Shi Jian." She set aside her cup and shook his hand. Her warm hand pulled him closer. "Did I say that right?" She raised her voice over the sound of the espresso machine while turning her good ear to him. 

 

"Yes, but I go by Simon." His gaze nervously shifted from her large tortoiseshell glasses to their joined hands. 

 

"Well, Simon." Melanie tasted his name on her tongue and patted his hand one more time before releasing him. "I've never been interviewed before. I see the Journal's reporters at the food trucks all the time, but wow!" She brushed a stray gray curl behind her ear. "I checked out your articles. A lot about Justin Time." 

 

A blush crept across his broad cheeks, and he fanned himself with his notepad. 

 

"Yeah, he's a hero of mine." He pushed his thick rimmed glasses with a knuckle.

 

"Of course. Not many Asian American superheroes, huh? You must have been kicking yourself when you heard Justin Time was saving the insurance company next door." The corners of her eyes crinkled.

 

He nodded, pulled out his pen. "Could you tell me what happened?"

 

"Sure. It was around 10 AM when I saw everyone running, screaming. I sit around the corner from the elevators. I went to see what was wrong." She blew out a shaky breath. "That's when I saw Roger with a gun." 

 

She leaned in close, lowering her voice. "They'd fired him on Monday. He would put his hand on the new hires' knees when he was training them at his desk. Just the young women. Last week, an intern filed a complaint. She was the vice president's niece. Brilliant girl. You should talk to her next, if she's feeling up to it. She feels like it's her fault. Poor thing."

 

Simon shook his head. "She's refusing interviews." His pen hovered over his notepad. "Did you know Roger—Mr. Brooks?" 

 

"Only to nod hello in the halls. He never looked at me twice. I haven't been a young woman in decades." She chuckled, patting her cheeks, waiting for the denial. 

 

"Did you hear what he was shouting?"

 

Melanie's smile vanished. "Roger was shouting for us to get the vice president. He said he just wanted to talk, but who talks with a gun?" She covered her mouth, blinked hard. 

 

"Laura was standing in front of him, trembling. I tried to grab her, to pull her away. It was silly, probably. Stupid, too. But what else could I do? We can't just stand by and watch people get hurt, can we?" 

Melanie extended her hand across the table, her eyes fixated on Simon's. A tremor ran down her arm. 

"Then Justin Time was behind him." Her hand swung toward the coffee shop's windows. "He threw Roger out the office window. Roger went through the elevated subway tracks. Laura just collapsed into my arms." She wiped her eyes with her napkin, looking up from her wet eyelashes to check Simon's reaction.

 

Simon cleared his throat. "What else did Justin Time do?" 

 

Melanie sniffed. "I don't know. I was getting my coworkers out of meeting rooms and up from under desks. He probably spoke to the vice president."

 

"How would you characterize Justin Time's actions that day?" 

 

She stared at the napkin in her hands, twisting it back and forth. 

 

The moment dragged on until Simon prompted, "Ms. Holly?"

 

"Sorry, it's just—I'm glad Roger wasn't able to hurt anyone, but I wish no one had been hurt. I'll never forget the sound when Roger went through the tracks." She pursed her lips and looked across the street at the plywood covered windows, the construction workers on the elevated train tracks. "The city's using buses while they're repairing the tracks. It adds an hour to the trip." She saw that he had stopped writing in his notepad. "I miss breakfast with my kids, making sure they've brushed their teeth, packed their school projects." She waved her hand as if shooing away a fruit fly. 

 

"You're upset Justin Time destroyed the tracks when he saved your life?" Simon's cheeks were red again, but this time his lips were tight. "Have you been struck down by that new villain, Mistress Melancholy?" 

 

"I bought some protection against her." Melanie held up her wrist and pointed at the evil eye charms. "I gave Laura a big pendant but she's got real bad anxiety now." Her bracelet clattered sharply on the table.  

 

"The company gave us a one-year subscription to some meditation app." One shoulder lifted in a shrug. "And they're only paying for ten therapy sessions for each of us. Every counselor has a four-month waiting list."

 

Simon started to wilt in his seat. "But Justin Time—"

 

"Justin Time wasn't there to stop Roger from getting that gun." Melanie returned to wringing the napkin. "There isn't a four-month waiting list for one of those."

 

Simon's pen left faint marks on the notepad as he wrote, ‘Four months.'

 

"The rest of us are wondering who's going to be the next mad one, ya know? It's not like the bad guys Justin Time fights when they come in costumes and announce themselves in front of the cameras." She pinned him with a tearful glare. "My oldest kid wants me to wear a bulletproof vest to work. Justin Time saved us at the last possible moment, and that's great. But what is he doing to make sure it doesn't happen again? Is he going to hold my baby when he wakes up with nightmares of almost losing me?"

 

Simon looked ashen. "But he didn't lose you. Justin Time saved you. Just like the homeless couple he saved from falling into Quicksand's pit when Quicksand was robbing a bank last week."

 

"Oh, sure, I saw the video, too. But he didn't find that couple stable housing. He didn't make sure they had food or blankets for the winter. They were by that bank because there's that warm air vent from the subways." She muttered, a touch too loud, "We need more social workers, not superheroes."

 

"I—I see." He slumped back, dejected. 

 

Melanie sipped her tea to savor the moment. He wanted to argue, to fight that Justin Time was the hero the city needed. But she could see her words ringing in his ears. See the doubt in his eyes. And how delicious it was.

 

"I'm sorry." She straightened her shoulders. "If you want me to say Justin Time was a hero that day, I can. My kids read about superheroes all the time, but what I want them to think about is being a good human. Justin Time isn't there when you need a hot meal." Her voice dipped low. "He wasn't there when the men in the department let Roger's behavior slide for years."

 

"No, he wasn't there," Simon echoed. 

 

"Heck," she hissed. "Justin Time's been photographed with the governor how many times? But he didn't stop the governor from signing that terrible bill into law. How can I tell my kids that the world's full of good people when the state—oh, sorry, could you take that last part out? I didn't mean to get so emotional. My kid's not ready to be out to the whole wide world yet."

 

"Oh, right, of course." He crossed something out in his notebook. "Well, thank you for your time. You've—you've given me a lot to think about."

 

"Thank you. Local journalism is so important. I'll keep an eye on your column."

 

Melanie C. Holly watched Simon Shi Jian leave the coffee shop. His shoulders were hunched despite the warm sun. She felt full to bursting with his drained enthusiasm. Disillusionment tasted better than chocolate, Mistress Melancholy thought as she finished her tea.