Despite the cover image of a teen lifting an impossible weight over his head with one hand, this issue is not about super-powers. It's not even about the teenage protagonist of the series. This is about illness and about those people who care for loved ones who are invalid. It's about the emotional turmoil and adaptations that a caregiver goes through, arriving at a point when he or she begins to rely upon being relied upon. Puckett takes us into the life of a woman who has lost herself in her role as a caregiver and now faces the frightening prospect of having to live life for herself rather than for her son. The simple but melancholy linework of Warren Pleece brings the woman's inner conflict to life incredibly well in this quiet but powerful story.
Brenda cuts a date short to return home to her son as the time for his regular evening shots is approaching. She's shocked to discover her son trying out his new super-powers, testing his newfound strength. He tries to explain to his mother that she needn't worry about him anymore, but Brenda finds it impossible to just cast aside her instincts. Now she has a new reason to worry.
The unusual monochromatic coloring approach for DC Focus doesn't really work all that well here, save for the fact that the muted tones reinforce the unfortunate quality of Brenda's emotional state throughout this issue. Still, it would have been nice to see more than reds, pinks and greys here. Pleece's art is quite strong. Brenda's unusual but completely understandable feelings shine through in the line art. I'm also pleased to see that Pleece is depicting the teenage protagonist as being rather skinny adn even frail in appearance, despite his new abilities.
Puckett establishes right away that Brenda is blinded to everything around her but her responsibilities to her son. On her date, she focuses on a young disabled man at a nearby table, and she relates to what his family must have to sacrifice for him. But what she doesn't see is that the family is still out and about, living their lives. The disability isn't holding them back.
Puckett presents us with a woman who longs for the life she had envisioned for herself and who desperately needs to be needed. Her role as a caregiver is all she knows anymore, and though she resents it, that role is what gives her purpose and keeps her going. Her entire reality has been thrown out the window by an unexplained turn of events. The reader keeps waiting for Brenda to be happy that her son is healthy and can live a normal, happy life, but it doesn't come. It's not because she's worried about the metamorphosis in him, but because she's come to need his illness. It's a fascinating character study that uses the fantasy of super-hero genre elements to examine real and extreme emotions.
