The paperwork took two hours to complete. My identity would be revealed to the super hero/villain world and I would be granted immunity for past crimes and misdemeanors (with some exceptions that relate to the worst felonies, which I never took part in). I turned in my purple and silver costume, my mask, and my sonic wave blasters. These things…well, they weren’t very effective against heroes that could lift 100 tons of metal and throw me clear across the planet. But they did help me break down walls, literally, and I made a quick buck or two when I needed it. I enjoyed the planning and the executing, but these new heroes were too strong and too reckless and I knew I would end up getting permanently injured soon. I couldn’t risk that. I’m a grandfather for crying out loud.

This immunity went two ways. I would be immune from the law, and I would be immune from heroes seeing me on the street and deciding to follow me and see if I was up to “no good”.

The exit interview went smoothly. A young man and an older woman sat across from me and the first question, which I had planned for, was still difficult to answer.

“Why are you retiring?”

“I’m 62 years old. I’ve not won a fight in over 30 years. These new heroes…its hard to deal with them. In the past, you’d battle someone like Titan Fist and there would be some good ol fashioned banter between us. He’d destroy my weapons and that was the end of the battle. I couldn’t do anything else. These new crop? They’ll break my hands, legs, and ribs just to ensure I won’t be able to lift my arm anymore. Five years ago, The Emerald Lady dropped me 5 stories onto the concrete floor. I thought I was paralyzed. It took me a while to realize this game is not the same one I played as a a young man. But what hurt the most? When my grandson called me a jobber. Do you know what that means? Its a pro wrestling term for a human punching bag. Someone more exciting, more popular, and more important wrestlers beat in front of crowds to make them seem unstoppable. And that’s what my grandson called The Wave. He didn’t know he was talking about me. But I realized I wasn’t someone important. So I’m done.”

They wrote this information down and didn’t ask any follow up questions. I had been holding that answer in for months now, coming up with follow up answers. But nothing. Just the next question.

They told me they would send a notice to all heroes and villains that I have retired. And have accepted the tracking device. It was a small microchip they put in my palm to ensure I didn’t use any powers (which I didn’t have in the first place). And to track me and try to link me to any crimes committed. Any crime that I was linked to would end my immunity.

The notification of my retirement just went out two weeks later. They had to make sure everything was in order before granting me the immunity. And my crimes were…well mostly forgotten about. And soon, so would I.

I got a few texts from some old friends in the villain community congratulating me on my retirement. They were jobbers just like me. But they were good friends and we always helped each other get back on our feet after our failures.

I was relaxing out in my garden, planting some cucumbers and tomatoes, when I heard someone approach me from behind. I turned around startled and noticed I suddenly had visitors. About twenty men and women somehow just appeared in my garden.

I put my palms up to show I’m unarmed. I backed away from them and I ended up tripping on a stone. As I fell, I was caught before I hit the ground.

“Easy old friend, we aren’t here to hurt you,” the hero who caught me said. I recognized his voice. Raging Rapid. He stood me up. I looked around. All these men and women were around my age, maybe younger, it is hard to tell. Sometimes their powers make them age slower. Sometimes their powers make them look younger.

They all introduced themselves. It was like a Hall of Fame of heroes. The Red Dragoon. Power Sash. Titan Fist. The Aegis. Quiver and Bow.

“I…am confused. What are you all doing here?” I said

“1983, you and I fought at the First National Bank over in Granite City,” The Red Dragoon said. “I was a young and brash hero who had two strikes against me already. I was reckless and would shoot first and never ask questions. As we battled, I shot a pillar, hoping it would fall and crush you. But it fell the other way. Almost onto some innocent employees. And you had a wide open shot on me. But you chose to protect those people. You used your Wave weapon to push the broken pillars away from them. I rushed in and disabled your gadgets and you surrendered peacefully. The employee looked at me with disgust. I went home embarrassed. I was supposed to be the hero. But I wasn’t. Not that night at least. I almost killed people for what? To protect some bank money? You turned my entire life around that night. In the 40 years since, 0 strikes on me.”

“I remember that night,” I said.

“1987,” The Aegis started. “You and your crew were fleeing some cops after a diamond heist and you told them to go, and that you would handle me.” He laughed a little. “I knew a little bit about you, and I thought I could take you out in a few seconds. But you surprised me. Your Wave blast shattered some of my inner bearings on my armor. You short circuited something. My entire armor became useless. You bested me. That night, I went home and refit my entire armor to be shielded from such an attack. And I took that lesson into every future fight I got into. I under estimated you. I wasn’t prepared, and from that moment on, I always had back up plan for my back up plan for my back up plans. I became a better hero because of you.”

And so the stories started to flow. Each one had a story about how their encounter or encounters with me made them a better hero and a better person. Sometimes in a minor way. Sometimes in a major way. Some tears were shed as we chatted about some fallen heroes and villains. We talked into the night. As they left, they all shook my hand and congratulated me on my retirement.

There was one presence here that was quiet the entire night. She looked younger than most, and she didn’t arrive with the group. She must of slipped in sometime during the night. As they all left, she stayed back.

“You were awfully quiet,” I told her as I went to turn on my teapot. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please,” she said. Her voice cracked a little as she spoke. As I set down her cup, I noticed she had the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen them once before.

“The last time I saw you, you dropped me 5 stories off a parking garage,” I said as I poured the hot tea into her cup. She tore up a paper napkin she had in her hand. “Not gonna lie, that was…probably the most painful injury I ever suffered.”

“I…” she started to speak. “I didn’t know..” Tears started to flow from her green eyes.

“I wish I could say I’m okay, but honestly that fall has done some pretty long lasting damage to me,” I said. “But that is the name of the game. That is the risks you and I take when we go out there in our uniforms and cause trouble or try to stop it. You did what you had to do to stop me.”

“I should have listened to the others, that you weren’t a major threat or someone I should use max force on. But I didn’t. And I hurt someone. I could still hear your scream as you fell.”

“Not my proudest moment,” I said, laughing.

“is there anything I can do, to you know, to make this right?” she said. “Please. Let me try and make this right.”

“Well…,” I said as I looked outside. “My knees aren’t what they used to be and I got some seeds that need to be planted. Tell you what. Stop by every so often, maybe once or twice a year, we’ll have some tea, and you can help me plant my garden.”

“…you know what the funny thing is? I’m the Emerald Lady but I can’t keep any of my plants alive,” she said, laughing.

I laughed. We talked more into the night. Every three months, she would visit, and help me plant my garden. We would have tea and she would fill me in on her life and I would show off my grandkid’s achievements as if they were my own.