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Super Man-Mobile

Tiarra • TAMPA, FL

Howard W. Blake High School

Super Man-Mobile


From what I could understand as a child, I always thought that my brother, Isaiah, was Super Man’s sidekick. At that time I was five years old, one year younger than Isaiah, and had no clue of what the character I saw embroided on my brother’s clothes actually drove. I just figured that if it was anything, it was the huge black 2002 Jeep Liberty that he climbed into every other weekend with his godfather, riding off to their next adventure. Ever since my childhood, the Jeep Liberty has been a mystical car that holds the secrets of its super powers Isaiah once shared with me. So even if money was no object, and I could get any car I desired, I would still choose to get a 2002 Jeep Liberty.


One early Sunday morning, Isaiah’s godfather stopped by unexpectedly to speak with my mother. “Come on!” Isaiah grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the front door. Down the stairs, he led me directly to that great big “SuperMan-Mobile.” My brother went to the rear left car door and jiggled the handle a little before the door popped open. “This door never locks,” my brother said, rushing me to climb aboard. Isaiah warned me that only he and his godfather could handle this car, so that I better move on over to the passenger’s seat. As I sat, my hands moved without my permission across the soft grey fuzz. There were, almost invincible, diamond patterns lining the material that that made my fingertips tickle. A smooth stick stood up in between the two front seats, and was lined with the letters and numbers P, R, N, 5, 2, 1. The car smelled like my favorite cherry Jolly Ranchers and the windows gleamed. “Will we get in trouble for being in here?” I asked with the “whiny voice”, as Isaiah calls it.  He turned to me with a face more serious than I had ever seen. “There’s a magical safety guard around this car that doesn’t ever let a bad thing happen as long as you’re in it, alright?” Isaiah touched my nose, his gesture to let me know that everything would be fine. Suddenly, a calming chill overcame my body; I felt secure. Enclosed in the walls of that 2002 Jeep Liberty made me feel like I was the big person in a small world, for a change, with not a single worry. When Isaiah buckled his seatbelt and flew us to the moon, the imaginary trip we always took, I didn’t feel afraid, not even of the creepy moon monsters. We climbed all over the seats, ducking and dodging the moon monsters as my brother blasted them with his zapper. Suddenly, there was a tap on the windows. Our mother stood with Isaiah’s godfather, her hands resting on her hips. Instead of ridicule, my mother released a giggled. “Alright, adventure time is up! Lets go to the table; I made your favorite breakfast!” The thought of the blueberry waffles steaming on our plates made us both jump for joy and race for the house. Before hopping down from the car, my brother whispered, “See I told you only good things could happen in this car!” I smirked, knowing I held a secret between my brother and I that would never fade.  



Still to this day, the 2002 Jeep Liberty holds magic. Whenever I’m riding in one, I know that everything in life is going to be all right. I smell the cherry Jolly Rancher in the air and think of my brother’s “snag-a-tooth” smile. I feel excitement creeping up for my favorite blueberry waffles, and again I am a child. Bubbly, innocent, and carefree. I would not trade that feeling for the most expensive car in the world.


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