by Adam Graham
No. Naomi made him promise to leave it on.
Mister Manners was number one on the FBI’s Most Wanted List. If he was smart, he was hiding out as far from Seattle as he could get.
“Powerhouse!”
So much for an insane guy being smart. Powerhouse turned.
Mister Manners flew above him in a dirty uniform. “Thanks to you, I’ve had to live as a vagabond and a fugitive. I had to rob a convenience store to get shaving supplies.” He sneered and let out a guttural roar. “I had to use a generic brand of shaving cream. That I cannot abide!”
Oh poor baby. Powerhouse vaporized his garbage as he aimed his forearm-mounted energy cannon at Mister Manners. “Come in quietly, and we’ll get you some help.”
“Don’t you know who you’re dealing with?” Manners dove at Powerhouse like a bomber only to bounce off Powerhouse’s shield. “Nice trick, but a little more speed means a lot more power.” Mister Manners spun and ran away. “Don’t get cocky. I’m giving myself room for a good running start!”
Powerhouse lowered his shield and set his energy cannon to its highest power level. He swallowed. This level would be fatal for a normal foe, but it might be all that could take down Mister Manners. Powerhouse fired.
Manners cried out as the energy stream blasted him. He whirled around and slowly pushed through the energy stream, his face contorted. “You can’t stop me.”
He got within twenty feet.
Fifteen feet.
Ten.
Oh no. This wasn’t working. He needed space. Powerhouse turned the cannon off, sped away on his jetpack, and flipped on his shield. He sped through the air toward Mister Manners.
His screaming foe hurtled hard toward him, too.
Powerhouse pulled his arm back and delivered a right jab to Manners’ jaw. Mister Manners flew backward a hundred yards.
“You call that a punch!” Manners sneered and rocketed through the sky toward Powerhouse.
Manners landed a left jab on the shield near Powerhouse’s stomach and bounced fifty yards away.
A warning light blinked on his helmet visor. The shield was in danger of needing to deactivate to avoid overloading.
He eyed the city below and rocketed backwards. “No way should we fight here, Manners. People could hurt if we go on the ground.”
“Coward, you can’t run from me!”
“I’m not running from you. I’m getting us away from the city.”
“You want no one to witness my triumph.” Mister Manners zoomed downward.
Where was he going?
Manners flew back carrying a screaming Kelli Michaels. She was dressed in a pink sweater and black slacks. Kelli glared and shook her fist. “Listen, bud. You don’t want to mess with me.”
“Don’t worry, girlie.” Manners leered. “Just cover Powerhouse’s demise. I realized we should not carry on our fight in the middle of a populated area.”
This guy was a glory hog to the end. “You had the idea?”
“Thanks for acknowledging it, Powerhouse.” Manners grinned. “Would you be so kind and produce her a pair of field glasses?”
All that he could produce within a mile of Manners was a headache. Didn’t Manners know that? “Not today.”
“See, Ms. Michaels? This barbarian is so uncooperative.” Manners set down Kelli and headed back up.
Time to spin his enemy like a top.
Powerhouse turned his jetpack on full power and dived at Manners’ legs. Manners caught Powerhouse’s own legs, landed, and smashed him on the ground.
Ouch. He had to break free.
Powerhouse turned the jetpack on reverse. It pulled him back up toward the sky, but Manners held on and pulled the other.
Pain sizzled in Powerhouse’s back. I’m going to be ripped in two.
He searched for the off button and found it.
The jetpack deactivated.
Manners slipped to the ground and slammed him hard. Powerhouse bounced back up, but Manners maintained his hold and slammed him down again. He bounced one more time.
The shield deactivated.
That feature saved me from being blow up, but it’s not going to stop Manners from cracking my suit like a walnut.
Manners slammed him down once more.
This time, Powerhouse stayed down and his head throbbed. Dear Lord.
Mister Manners flipped Powerhouse over and sat on his chest “I’m so going to enjoy this. I’ve always thought your blood sport was barbaric, but this is justice. You’ve ruined my life. Thanks to you, I can’t even access my fabulous wardrobe without difficulty.”
“You’re the one who decided to declare yourself Emperor and attempt to guillotine five FBI Agents.”
“Typical.” Mister Manners shook his head. “You barbarians always try to blame someone else.”
“You might want to change your name to Captain Oblivious.”
“Insolent to the end.” Manners punched Powerhouse in the face.
Powerhouse threw the villain off, hurtling him into the air, and stumbled to his feet. His stomach lurched, and he fell. The world spun faster and faster.
Manners closed in like a shark hungry for the kill.
Powerhouse crawled to a stop sign, climbed up on his knees, and pulled himself up on the sign’s pole. “Give me one moment.”
“Let no one deny the compassion of Mister Manners. You have thirty seconds.”
Naomi sat staring at the pieces of paper in Dave’s messy handwriting. I wish Dave would be more clear when filling out his expense reports.
Her cell phone rang. She picked up.
Dave whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The line went dead.
“Dave!” Naomi covered her face and wept. “Oh God, no. Oh, no.”
Powerhouse had been blessed to even find the cell button on his sleeve.
Manners snickered. “I love you, too, but it’s much too late for you to kiss my feet now. I’m not going to let you get away.”
Dude, this nut was serious. Powerhouse clung to the stop sign. “You don’t know anything about love.”
The blurry Mister Manners stalked closer. “Rules must be obeyed.”
He had to keep him talking, buy himself some time.
Powerhouse stumbled away from the stop sign as he held his hands out for balance. “The greatest rule is to love God and the second greatest rule is love your neighbor as yourself.”
Manners snarled. “You’re a fool. If a real god created this world, he has abandoned it to chaos. A new god is needed to bring order, and I am the right man for the job. Order is what matters, and I’ll bring it. Only you have dared to try to outshine my majesty. I’ll extinguish your flame.”
Powerhouse coughed. “You’re a perversion, Manners. Great power in a small mind with no heart.”
“What’s perverse is you, a man with great power, never using it to bring order.” In a blur, Mister Manners shoved him down then slammed his fists into Powerhouse’s helmet with two tons of force.
His head pounded like his skull might crack open. One more smash like that would end it. Powerhouse tried to muster strength to push back.
“Leave him alone!” a woman shouted.
Powerhouse peered her way. The blur looked like that reporter, Kelli.
She dashed across the field in her flats.
Mister Manners laughed. “You have some gumption, woman. Not much brains, but gumption! What exactly is the little girl going to do against me?”
“I’m not a child!” She snatched his arm, lifted him over her head one-handed, spun him, and then let him go.
Mister Manners screamed as he hurtled through the sky.
She scooped up Powerhouse like he was a baby, ran toward the city, and came to a stop in maybe twenty seconds.
Breathing heavily, she collapsed on the sidewalk.
Powerhouse landed on his tail bone. “Where did Mister Manners go?”
She gasped for breath. “If I know my
full strength, Portland.”
“Portland?” Powerhouse blinked.
Kelli nodded. “He’ll have a long flight and a not-too-soft landing. That should keep him from coming back to attack us soon.”
“Wait—you’re a superhero? You hate superheroes!”
“I’m a human with a little bit of extraordinary power. That doesn’t make me a hero. Come on. We better get walking back to town. I’ll help you.” She gave him her hand and pulled him up.
Powerhouse stumbled as stabbing pain throbbed. “My head.”
“Lean on me until your head clears. Town is this way.”
Powerhouse leaned on her a little bit.
She winced.
He smiled. “You sure looked like a superhero back there.”
“Looks can be deceiving. I wanted to be a hero who exposed corruption in high places and helped make people’s lives better. That’s why I became a journalist. Instead, I find myself old and cynical at twenty-nine.”
“But what about your powers?”
“I’m the most powerful person in the world, but only for thirty seconds a day. Likewise, I can pause time, but only for ten seconds a day. I’m nothing like great-grandmother. She could be powerful for six hours and could pause time for five minutes.”
“Was she a superhero?”
“A master thief.” Kelli pursed her lips. “That’s how my family made its fortune. I found out from her secret diary.”
“Oh.” Powerhouse sighed. “I still don’t understand why you write such nasty stuff about Powerhouse and superheroes.”
“Someone told me you were an evil symbol of patriarchy, and I fell for it.” She grimaced. “Maybe I was jealous. Now, it’s all about the greenbacks. You may be sincerely trying to save the world, but I’ve got a cat and a shoe habit to support. I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite.”
“Because you write things you don’t believe.”
“Worse.” She sighed. “I joined the Powerhouse Squad.”
“You!” Powerhouse snorted. “Impossible, I know their real identities. They didn’t even have secret identities until after training.”
“I figured you’d think I was trying to dig up dirt for the paper, so I went in under an assumed name and disguised myself in orientation. In costume, I wear a mask, so no one knows I patrol skid row on nights when I’m not on assignment. So that’s my life. Costumed hero basher by day, costumed crime fighter by night.”
“That’s a great cover! Though, it must be hard living a contradiction.”
“I don’t see a way out. If I want to keep eating, I’ll write what Farrow wants. Plus, you know what my friends would think, if I went off and became a superhero.”
Actually, that didn’t make sense to him. Powerhouse removed her arm and stood on his own. Better.
He rubbed his head. “Sounds like they’re not real friends.”
She laughed. “Do I really sound like a kid? You sure sound like a dad.”
“Uh, no comment.”
Kelli sighed, blushing. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
Now she definitely sounded like a child. Powerhouse waved. “No, you go on back to slandering me however you want.”
“Please keep my powers a secret. The government would kidnap me and dissect me.”
“Actually, the government barely notices superheroes.”
An olive green jeep with a U.S. Army logo sped around the corner and stopped beside them. In the passenger seat was a blond man wearing a green jumpsuit and an eye patch over his left eye. “Powerhouse, could you and your friend use a ride?”
Cool. Powerhouse grinned. “I’d love a ride in an Army Jeep. Thanks.”
Kelli sneered. “You’re falling right into their trap. Now that you’re weak, they can take you experiment on you. Try to get away on your jetpack.”
Eye Patch Soldier laughed. “Folks like you keep Hollywood in business. I’m not a monster. Off the record, I need Powerhouse’s help to defeat our common foe, the terrorist called Mister Manners. By the way, I’m Lieutenant Colonel Rupert Snyder, U.S. Army Intelligence.”
Powerhouse stumbled into the back seat. “Good to know you.”
“Likewise.” Colonel Snyder dipped his head. “Ma’am, it’s a two mile walk to the nearest gas station. You want us to drive you?”
Kelli stepped back and cringed. “No thanks—and you’d better get him back in one piece.”
Colonel Snyder laughed. “I know you’d bleed for him if we didn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ma’am, I recognize you from your photos in the Seattle Guardian. You claimed he’s a symbol of fascism and a menace to democracy. Don’t worry, though. This menace will be back in Seattle, so you can keep eating.” Colonel Snyder started to pull the jeep away from the road. He braked and pointed the opposite direction from where Kelli was walking. “Seattle’s that way.”
She shouted, “I knew that!”
The jeep pulled away.
Powerhouse sighed. Now, he could hopefully clear his head. Oh wait, Naomi. “I have to make a call.”
“Do you need a phone?”
“I’ve got Bluetooth.” He superimagined dialing home.
Naomi sat on the light blue couch in her living room. She wiped the tears from her eyes and bit her wobbly lip as an invisible knife tore up her stomach. If Dave were gone, how could she tell the kids? “God, no.”
Their land line rang.
Was that the morgue? She glanced at the caller ID and snatched it up, grinning as her heart beat fast. “Dave! I mean, Powerhouse!”
“I’m okay, I think.” Dave sounded groggy.
“You had me scared.”
“I had me scared, but I wanted you know. I mean—”
Naomi wiped her eyes. “I know. Thanks.”
“Okay, I’m talking with someone from the Army. They think we can beat Mister Manners together.”
Naomi sighed. “I hope their plan works. Come home soon.”
“I will. Talk to you later.”
Naomi hung up, leaned back, and took a deep breath.
Joanie Burns ran in the house. “Naomi, Naomi! Jordan Reno is chasing Derrick! He said he’s gonna kill him. You gotta stop him.”
“Stay here!” Naomi jumped up and snatched her purse. Had she left her gun loaded? Where had she hidden her bullets?
Joanie grabbed at her hand. “I’ll show you!”
“No.” Naomi flashed the child a reassuring smile. “I’ll find him and take care of it. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Joanie nodded and flopped on the couch.
Okay, using a gun on a ten-year-old would be uncalled for. Well, a lady never left home without her purse. Naomi dashed out of the house and sped down the street at maximum speed as she listened for her baby’s voice.
She slowed and stopped four blocks away from home, behind a spruce.
Derrick inched backwards toward where the road ended at a red roadblock sign and a cluster of more spruces. “I don’t want to fight you, Jordan.”
“Wimp!” The fat child nearly James’ size cracked his knuckles. “Your family is full of wimps. Your dad is probably the biggest wimp of the bunch.”
Derrick stopped and glared, clenching his teeth and his fists.
Time to save her baby. Naomi rushed out in between him and the bully, her fists clenched on her hips as she glared at the bully. “You stop bothering my son this instant!”
The bully sneered at her and put up his hands. “I wasn’t doing nothing!”
“Thank you for confessing you were doing something.” She raised her fist and glared. “Now go home or you’ll be sorry you didn’t.”
Growling, the bully muttered and spat on the street, but he also backed away from Derrick. “Later, Johnson. When Mommy’s not around.”
The bully skulked off.
That worked? Wow, either no one could be bothered to raise him in practice, or he’d get spanked at home if he complained about her threat. Huh.
Derrick scowled at her and stomped toward home.
Uh oh. She jogged alongside him. “Did I embarrass you?”
“Mom, how could you?” Derrick’s four-foot-nine frame quivered with rage. “You let him get away with attacking Dad!”
“It was the right thing to do. It’s not a fun commandment to obey, but we’re called to overlook insults rather than let them lead to a fight.”
“Huh?” Derrick shook his head. “We’re supposed to let that idiot get away with calling Dad a coward when Dad is risking his life for him?”
“Not necessarily, but our response to an insult shouldn’t involve beating him up. For instance, do you know how many times I’ve felt like punching out the Seattle Guardian’s staff? Daily. Instead I take a deep breath and turn the other cheek.”
“I’m running out of cheeks.” Derrick grunted. “Ever since I got back in school, Jordan’s been chasing me around everywhere else to start a fight, and he tells everyone I’m a coward. I’m tired of it. I just wanted to get it over with, but then you—why, Mom? Do you know how bad you make me look?”
So she’d been right. Naomi sighed. “Honey, I’m sorry. It’s hard to let you handle your own problems when your problem is a bully who has beaten you up once already. Why didn’t you tell us this was still going on?”
“You and Dad have enough problems.”
Naomi mussed his hair. “Whatever other jobs we have, we’re parents all the time. We want to know what’s going on. It’s past time that Dad and I had a talk with his parents.”
Derrick sighed. “Everyone at school’s talking about me. It’s miserable. Since James is in middle school now, I don’t even have him there to stand up for me.”
Why was it okay for older brothers to do that and not mothers?
They reached home and entered the living room. Joanie hopped up, ran to Derrick, and sniffled. “I’m sorry for all the trouble, Derrick. It would’ve been better if you’d never tried to help me.”
“Not for you.” Derrick shook his head. “I’m just tired, Joanie.”