My Partner--My Friend!

As much as Rick Jones and Betty Ross, two characters who were sympathetic to the tragic circumstances of the incredible Hulk (albeit for very different reasons), Jim Wilson earned his place as one of the book's most memorable classic characters, and a stalwart who contributed to the book's recurring cast. Jim began his friendship with the Hulk in the fall of 1970, in what turned out to be an association with the character that lasted nearly 300 issues--with his loyalty to his big green buddy soon extending to a friendship with Bruce Banner, as well. Unlike Rick, Jim didn't stick with the Hulk out of a sense of obligation, but a sense of trust which the two struck up at their first meeting in a Los Angeles tenement. Both on the run... both looked at as being different... and both with seemingly no prospect for a better future, they were two sides of the same coin. Nor did it take long for Jim to earn the respect and admiration of Gen. "Thunderbolt" Ross, for his bravery as well as his strength of character. Virtually everyone who came into contact with Jim seemed like they were pulling for him--a feeling that likely extended to readers, as well.

In 1994, rather than letting the character fade into obscurity, writer Peter David decided to make Jim the focus of an issue dealing with the subject of AIDS. We don't know how Jim contracted the HIV virus; we first learned that he had developed full-blown AIDS nearly three years earlier, but Banner (who now shared his intellect with the Hulk) dismissed the cause as unimportant after saving Jim's life from an assassin who had targeted the partner of another AIDS patient: "Who cares? If he had measles, it wouldn't matter where he got it. He's a friend who needed help." It was probably the appropriate way for David to settle the matter in that particular issue--though it would make for a curious line of dialog in this later issue from David that obviously seeks to raise AIDS awareness, where an effort is made to list the various ways in which the virus can be transmitted. That seems sufficient to fulfill the responsibility inherent in the story; as for Jim, it's his passing, as well as the exit of a long-standing character of the book, which seems meant to resonate more with the reader.

Whether David pulls off that aspect of the story is debatable; but to my own surprise, I found that the more riveting part of this tale was the interspersed segment where Betty Ross-Banner, who works a Help Line in Reno, struggles to keep a caller who's developed AIDS from committing suicide. The depth of the call takes Betty a little by surprise, and well out of her comfort zone--and it becomes an examination of her strength of character as well as her ability to adjust to the situation and stick with the call for as long as it takes to help the caller; whereas David doesn't devote all that much to Jim's scenes aside from a disconcerting propensity to have the character grasp at straws for treatment options and throw guilt in the direction of Banner/the Hulk at any sign of reticence. It's not exactly having Jim go out on a high note; yet the moment he does pass still sends a ripple through the book, and through the years.

As for how Jim winds up in "the Mount," the headquarters of Banner's benefactors and partners, the Pantheon, we know from a prior story that Jim runs an AIDS clinic in L.A. for those whose families have cut ties with them and who need a haven where they can spend their last days. By extension, he's also active in demonstrations concerning AIDS-related issues, and becomes involved in a rally that centers on Joey Harris, an AIDS-infected student being forced to leave his school due to the concerns raised by other parents. While both sides meet with school officials, violence breaks out between the protesters and those who are in favor of Joey being kept out of the school--and Jim becomes caught in the crossfire.

Meanwhile, Betty, at her office, is through for the day and headed for the door when her phone rings--and she finds herself in a situation where her training on referring callers in need of information to trained professionals isn't one-size-fits-all.

Back in L.A., Jim of course has the benefit of having one hell of a guardian angel--one who arrives in the nick of time and pulls off a rescue that few think to stand in the way of.

Banner takes Jim to perhaps the only place of care which might offer some measure of hope for his condition--the Mount in Nevada, a facility where the Pantheon members map out relief and rescue missions while researching cutting-edge technology and science. Banner, a progressive scientist in his own right, is certainly in his element in such an environment, and he's probably made the right call with Jim; unfortunately, while the Mount is a notch above conventional hospitals, the Pantheon is not hoarding cures--and Jim's condition has reached the point where he can be made comfortable, but little else. It leads to an uncomfortable exchange that puts Banner in an awkward position, where he must refuse a dying request (and more than one) from one of his closest friends.

However, Betty, back in Reno, is trying every option available to dissuade her caller, Chet, from going with the final option--and so she begins a tense vigil at her desk, trying to keep him on the line, staying alert for openings that will hopefully let her make headway with him. What you don't see in these snippets of panels selected for display in this post is the full extent of the remarkable story that artist Gary Frank tells as this encounter plays out, particularly Betty's expressions as Chet's words throw her one curve after another--a mix of reactions you'd see from any Help Line operator who has suddenly found themself in such a situation. Without expecting it, Betty becomes involved in this young man's struggle to... to die, to live, she's not quite sure yet.

Those closing words in the scene are a peculiar declaration from Betty on David's part, since it would seem to be presumption of the highest order for the story to put that out there at this point. We can see that Betty has stepped up here--all we really need to know right now is that she's committed to hanging onto this lifeline, which is enough to keep its momentum going and our interest piqued. It's likely that David added those particular words in order to set up the final scene, though I would argue that they're unnecessary no matter which way Chet goes here.

Returning to the Mount, it appears Banner has made his decision regarding a transfusion of his blood to Jim, an option which seems ill-conceived on several levels since the procedure has the potential of transforming Jim into something far deadlier than his affliction--and, for that matter, possibly not even including the Hulk's healing factor at all. As Banner stresses, Jim coming out of this healed and whole is a long shot; but the upside at least for now is that Jim's attitude improves at the thought of even a chance of success.

Yet Jim's optimism is (forgive the term) short-lived, assuming it was ever on the level at all. (More on that in a moment.)  But the circumstances allow Jim Wilson to exit his life peacefully, and in the company of friends--bringing a dignified end to a character whose history with the Hulk spanned twenty-four years. Only Banner is left to deal with any regrets hanging in the air, and a profound sense of loss.

And as Betty's situation reaches its conclusion, David should be credited for not being tempted to resolve her segment in a way where something meaningful balanced the tragedy of Jim's death. There were many unhappy endings during the AIDS crisis, with any number of Chets overwhelmed by their despair at their lives being cut short along with thoughts of a lingering death. David's ending, then, reflects the reality of those years and those lives--while Betty, through it all, stays on that phone, doing her job to the best of her ability and trying to fulfill her responsibility to those left behind. It's a powerful scene that speaks for itself so well--and, like any good story, leaves any lesson(s) learned to the reader's discretion.

Incredible Hulk #420 Script: Peter David Pencils: Gary Frank Inks: Cam Smith Letterer: Joe Rosen