June 1992 my dad put me on his shoulders on Berenice street. Chicago looked so much better up there. Through the gangway, pass the white garage with the broken window, kick open the steel gate and we’re in the alley. Gotta look both ways, not for cars but for guys who wanted dad dead, he takes a left and bounds towards the next main street, Mom’s bus street, right on Austin and it’s a hard breathing sprint up to Irving Park, we’re not talking, I’m smiling, smiling because my dad is as big as Superman, smiling because it’s sunny out and my dad is here, he’s actually here and I’m actually on his shoulders, just me and him, no trouble, no stress, no pink lipstick flashing winter green Wrigley, no adults just two kids, no Sorry boardgame, just my dad and me, bounding our way through this spring afternoon June.

Up ahead buzzing traffic, across the street the Patio theater, we race, we run, frogger style to the front, a million people, must be a good movie, I don’t know, I’m 4 years old, my dad huffs out a request for tickets, Batman for two, no sir can’t do it the movie sold out, my dad cusses a storm, slams his anvil fist, and puts me down, sorry buddy he says, we’ll have to wait, I smile up at him, my dad, in the flesh, he takes my hand and we walk back home, my home not his, it’s nice out, I don’t mind about missing batman, we still got the Bulls, we still got a little more time, right dad?

31 years later. Dad died in 2020. Accidental overdose, I get his box of stuff, it’s full of Superhero coloring books and the Justice League DVD, my dad, always looking for me, always the kid at heart, my dad the broken superhero kid, Bruce lost his childhood, so did dad but he always stayed in the lines, it was safe inside the lines, it made sense inside there, flip the page and he writes Always Be a Hero in red color pencil, he was as much as he could have been, I told his ashes that, I hope he heard, but guess what dad, I got to see our Batman in theaters, I got to see Michael Keaton all these years later, I took my son, you would have loved the movie dad, you really would have, now I understand you dad, I understand why you took me on your shoulders, you wanted to show me that in times of trouble it’s ok to be afraid because we got Batman to save us, isn’t that right dad? He’ll save the child inside, the one you hid away, the one that’s on your shoulders, the one you kept looking for, dad it’s all ok now because I saw Batman with my son. He was so good. He didn’t disappoint. He was with the Flash dad, I thought of you while I watched it. I knew I would, Dad. Batman saved us, dad. He gave us a memory, one we shared, together yet separate, in the shadows of the lost years you carry me to the theater, back to June 1992, you bought two tickets, we get a bag of popcorn and share a soda, you muscle us dead center, you barely fit in the seat, we laugh our heads off, nobody shushes us because nobody shushes superheroes, the lights dim, I rest my head on your arm, oh dad together through life, Flash 2023, look it’s Batman, Dad!