By Shaenon K. Garrity
INT. TENEMENT APARTMENT – AFTERNOON
Close on the cover of a comic book sitting atop a pile of newspapers. It's a typical 1930s/1940s superhero comic. Under the title
Busy Comics, an improbably muscular, square-jawed hero in a garish costume and cape flies dramatically through the sky.
A pudgy hand grabs the comic book. As the comic is swept away, we can glimpse the newspaper underneath it, the
Central City Daily Gazette, and the date, 1940. It's folded so we can't see the headline, but a slug over the title advertises
New Sunday Comics Feature Inside!
We follow GERHARD SHNOBBLE out of the small, cluttered tenement bedroom, clutching his comic book. Gerhard is a plump little nebbish with a defeated slouch to his shoulders. He shuffles through the equally run-down kitchen, passing his harried WIFE and several kids who look unfortunately like him.
MRS. SHNOBBLE
Gerhard? Gerhard! What're you doing home at three in the afternoon? You gotta get out and get another job! My shift at the factory ain't gonna keep you in dime novels and comic books, Gerhard! You hear me?
Gerhard ignores her and leaves the apartment. A cluster of men playing dice in the hall nod briefly as he passes. Gerhard climbs a flight of stairs to the roof, passing a teenage couple necking in the stairwell. At last he opens the door to the roof.
EXT. TENEMENT ROOF – AFTERNOON
Gerhard steps out onto the roof. He suddenly looks freer. The slouch has disappeared. With a light step, he crosses the roof and stands at the very edge, looking down without fear. A gust of wind whips the comic book out of his hand and sends it spiralling down to the street far below. It's only a six-story brownstone, but from Gerhard's POV it looks like a long, long way down.
Gerhard smiles blissfully. There is nothing remotely sad or resigned about him now. Happily, he steps out into thin air. His foot hovers above the distant street and freezes.
Titles begin. The camera zooms down to street level and tracks past the citizens of Central City, going about their daily business: a little girl bounces a ball on the sidewalk, a little boy fires a toy machine gun, bums cook beans in an alley, beautiful women step out of limosines, working folk crowd into trolleys. The titles and credits are spelled out on walls, on magazine covers, in stacks of boxes and soup cans, in flurries of paper that briefly form words.
Cut back to Gerhard. Just before he goes over the edge, a gloved hand grabs him by the collar and drags him back onto the roof. Gerhard looks blithely up at a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark blue suit. A plain blue domino mask is his sole concession to the sartorial expectations of his line of work.
THE SPIRIT
What is this, Gerhard? The third time?
GERHARD
Aw, you don't have to worry about me, Spirit. I can fly.
THE SPIRIT
(patiently)
Course you can, Gerhard.
The Spirit gives Gerhard a chance to collect himself, straighten his tie. They're both blasé about the whole routine; it's obviously not the first time this has happened.
GERHARD
I can, though. Like the superheroes.
THE SPIRIT
You know those guys aren't real, Gerhard. Listen, you've got to take care of yourself. You've got a wife and kids depending on you, right?
GERHARD
Eh, not no more, Spirit. I got laid off the night-watchman job at the bank.
THE SPIRIT
That's a shame. Well, maybe I can hook you up with something at—
They're interrupted by the wail of POLICE SIRENS. At once the Spirit springs to attention.
THE SPIRIT
Sorry, Gerhard. I'll talk to you later.
The Spirit leaps off the roof of the building, landing on the roof of a building next door. Gerhard watches Central City's superhero disappear over the rooftops, almost flying.
GERHARD
Sure, but when I do it, people get all panicky.
INT. CENTRAL CITY POLICE STATION – DAY
COMMISSIONER DOLAN sits at a desk in front of a large window at street level, barking orders to a group of police officers. His lovely daughter ELLEN sits on the desk reading a copy of the
Central City Daily Gazette. It's now open so we can see the front-page headline: WHO IS THE SPIRIT?
DOLAN
The Gretch gang? I thought we had that monster behind bars! Put out a circular and round up his goons before somebody gets killed!
ELLEN
The Spirit'll take care of them, daddy.
DOLAN
The Spirit. A classic example of the cure being worse than the disease.
Through the window behind them, we see a group of cops with nightsticks fighting the Gretch gang, a rough-looking bunch. The cops seem to be losing. Dolan and Ellen are oblivious to the action as Ellen continues reading the paper.
ELLEN
Listen to this. "The masked crimefighter's success at cleaning up the city only shows up the civic disgrace that is the Central City Police Department."
DOLAN
What?
ELLEN
(unperturbed)
Mm…a little harsh…
DOLAN
(to the remaining cops in the office)
Put out a circular on the Spirit while you're at it!
Outside, the cops have almost all been knocked out. The Spirit suddenly leaps into the fray and begins driving the gang members back, taking down the whole gang singlehanded.
ELLEN
You'll never find him. "'No one has been able to identify the Spirit,' says a private detective who wishes to remain nameless, 'and believe me, we've tried. It's like he really is a ghost.'"
DOLAN
That stuff'll rot your brain, Ellen.
ELLEN
"Nonetheless, Police Commissioner Dolan has vowed to apprehend and unmask the Spirit, calling him 'a dangerous vigilante in an eight-dollar suit.'"
DOLAN
Finally, journalistic integrity!
ELLEN
What would you do if I said I was sweet on him?
DOLAN
I'd take you over my knee.
ELLEN
I wouldn't let you. [Beat] I might let him, though.
The Spirit throws the last gangster through the window, interrupting the Dolans' conversation as glass SHATTERS everywhere.
ELLEN
Spirit!
SPIRIT
Afternoon, Ellen. Commissioner. Didn't your boys have Gretch locked up?
FRAGMENT ENDS
Shaenon K. Garrity is a manga editor at Viz Media and is best known for her webcomics Narbonic and Skin Horse.
All the Comics in the World is © Shaenon K. Garrity, 2008
