Ultimate Mid-life Crisis

by Adam Graham

  She headed for the door. Walk calmly and act like you don’t know more than the public does.

  Outside, she blinked back tears. Was she a distraction to Dave? Someone who would take him away from the important superhero stuff? Would Dave be better off without her?

  Powerhouse snapped a baseball bat in two over his knee.

  Beside him on the stage stood three muscular men wearing black tank tops that said, “The Strong Guys.” All of them held snapped bats.

  The crowd roared. Most of them were boys in camp t-shirts.

  The seven-foot-tall leader of the Strong Guys stepped forward. “Now, we’re going to rip apart some phone books.” He glanced at Powerhouse. “You got the phone books?”

  “Sure, Chuck.” Powerhouse jogged offstage, picked up four copies of a 150-page phone book, and handed one to each of the Strong Guys. “Sorry. This is a tiny town.”

  Chuck frowned. “Could you change these into Seattle Metro books?”

  Powerhouse put his hands on his hips. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to use superimagination.”

  “Not to break stuff, that’d be cheating, but the kids want to see bigger phone books. Right, kids?”

  The kids cheered. “Yeah!”

  “Okay.” Powerhouse replaced the puny local directories with the hefty Seattle phone book.

  Chuck smiled. “Let’s rip some phone books apart.”

  Time to put on a show of this being at all hard. Powerhouse sweated and gasped for breath. “Must tear ph-phone book. Will not defeat me!”

  The others glanced at him and began tearing their phone books apart.

  Once they’d finally finished, Powerhouse threw his shoulders back and ripped the phone book apart. “Yellow book full of ads and phone numbers, you could not stand before the might of Powerhouse and the Strong Guys!”

  The audience cheered.

  Chuck said, “Great. Now you ready to see us break some handcuffs?”

  The kids cheered.

  On stage strode a state policeman carrying the handcuffs.

  “These are certified real handcuffs from the police. Aren’t they, officer?”

  The state policeman said, “Yes, sir.”

  Chuck said, “Go ahead and put the cuffs on.”

  The policeman handcuffed Powerhouse and the rest of the Strong Guys.

  Chuck said, “Do you know why we break handcuffs?”

  Powerhouse said, “Because it looks really cool.”

  Chuck laughed. “It’s also to remind you, if anything in life binds you, you can have power through Jesus to break off those chains. Now, I’m going to say a prayer for those of you who need it, asking God to give you the strength to break the chains that hold you in Jesus name.”

  Musicians came on stage while he prayed.

  Chuck glanced at the musicians and at the Strong Guys. “Gentlemen, let’s break some chains.”

  The kids applauded.

  Powerhouse slowly worked the chains. Can’t get done too soon. Don’t want to upstage these guys. After Chuck snapped his handcuffs, Powerhouse snapped his.

  The kids cheered.

  Chuck said, “If you need Jesus to snap the chains of the enemy, come up here by the stage.”

  A handful of kids surged forward. Powerhouse strolled backstage while prayer counselors met with the kids. He glanced at his cell phone. Still no messages, so he might have time to spend with Derrick and James.

  Chuck strolled backstage. “Hey, you were great, though you were holding back a little.”

  Powerhouse nodded. “This wasn’t my show. It’s yours.”

  Chuck shook his head. “It’s the Lord’s and we’re willing to decrease so he can increase. This was a pretty nice stop, even though we didn’t have a lot of kids come forward.”

  “It’s a Christian boys’ camp.”

  “Still not all of them are Christians, and everyone struggles. So are many kids out there, and they come out to see the Strong Guys and they find Jesus.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Even more people would come out for a special event with Powerhouse and the Strong Guys.”

  Powerhouse blinked. “You want to change the name?”

  “If you joined us full time. Bringing more people out would mean more people coming to the Lord. That’s what matters. You’d be a great evangelist.”

  Behind his helmet, Powerhouse’s eyes narrowed. “I never thought of an evangelist as someone who breaks a bat over his knee.”

  “It takes all kinds. Though, we’d want to up the ante for you, maybe rip an entire SUV right down the middle.”

  That didn’t sound bad. Not as good as being a superhero though. “Do you guys go outside and help people with your amazing strength?”

  Chuck laughed. “We sometimes volunteer at shelters, but between riding tour buses and our media schedule, we hardly have time, when you take our workouts into consideration. We spend five hours a day working out, and we have to eat five meals with like 6000 calories.”

  Wow. That was all they ate? “I’ve got my work in Seattle.”

  “I know that must seem important, but how many people are you sharing your faith with? You should be active in sharing Christ as much as possible. Time is so short, nothing else matters.”

  Powerhouse frowned. Wasn’t helping people and helping churches so they could help others also the Lord’s work? Wasn’t that what God had called him to do? A long line of people had told him he should be doing something else and he didn’t know what to think. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You do that.”

  Why couldn’t he just be Seattle’s superhero? What was right? He had options that would make Naomi prouder, the boys prouder, that would be a dream come true, and now one that supposedly would make God prouder.

  Out on stage, the camp director said, “Let’s give it up one more time for the Strong Guys and their special guest, Powerhouse.”

  Powerhouse walked out onstage and waved at the kids.

  Derrick and James made their way to the exit. Powerhouse posed for pictures with a line of campers for fifteen minutes before saying, “All right, kids, I have to get going now.”

  The campers delivered a collective, “Aw.”

  “Stay in school, love God, and listen to your counselors. Powerhouse away!” He flew out through the window and landed on a trail about a quarter of a mile away.

  Five minutes later, his sons appeared. Derrick ran to him and gave him a hug. “I missed you, uh, Powerhouse.”

  He smiled under his helmet. Couldn’t have bystanders overhearing them calling him dad.

  James strode over. “So where we walking?”

  Powerhouse said, “I was thinking, guys. I could walk with each one of you separately. Get some one-on-one time.”

  “Shot gun!” James darted his hand in the air.

  Laughing, Powerhouse waved the boy on.

  They walked down a tree-lined path.

  James smiled. “So fight any really b-b-bad supervillains?”

  “Too many.” Powerhouse cleared his throat. “How are you doing?”

  “G-g-good. My coach here at camp says if I keep practicing, I might get a sch-scholarship to college.”

  “That’s great, son. But remember to keep your grades up. You know what your mother says about relying on sports.”

  “I could always get injured.” James rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you simply superimagine me better?”

  “My power doesn’t work on people, son. If it did, after the shooting, I would have snapped my fingers and made you all better.” Now, it was time to make his wife happy and bring up the uncomfortable issue. “Anyway, I was wondering, has anything’s been changing for you?”

  “Not really.”

  Powerhouse smiled. Naomi had worried about nothing. “That’s good.”

  “If you say so, Dad.”

  Powerhouse’s cell phone beeped as he received a text message from the Powerhouse Squad. He read it out loud. “Gun-wielding gang on ramp
age at Bellevue Mall.” Powerhouse frowned. Criminals had the worst timing.

  James growled. “Go. I understand.”

  “Tell Derrick I’m sorry.” Powerhouse zoomed straight up into the sky, pulled his airship out of his pocket and grew it to full size. He zipped inside and turned on its controls.

  He gulped. “Lord, help me to get there quickly. Protect the people in the mall while I’m en route.”

  Powerhouse continued to pray until the airship stopped outside the mall. He flew in from the front doors.

  A man holding an assault rifle collapsed to the ground.

  The Steel Rottweiler emerged from behind a sign post. He wore a black leather costume with a Rottweiler emblem in a gray triangle on his chest. “Go upstairs. Check on the Boomerang Bloke. We still don’t have the leader.”

  Powerhouse rocketed up to the second floor.

  Right by the stairs, the Boomerang Bloke stood in a new brown leather costume and wore a brown mask. At his feet curled a man in a ski mask. Bloke shook his fist at the crook. “And don’t get up again, you blighter.”

  Powerhouse landed and whistled. “The leader?”

  Boomerang Bloke glanced to him. “Yeah, that’s the last of them.”

  Steel Rottweiler ran up the stairs and smiled. “I see you got ’em, dawg.”

  “He had me on the run until he chased me into the wrong store.” Bloke pointed up behind them and read the sign. “The Boomerang Emporium.”

  The three heroes laughed.

  A clerk strode out of the store. “You comedians come with me.”

  He marched them inside of his shop. Dozens of boomerangs lay strewn through the store amidst broken glass where display cases had been broken.

  He pointed. “This ain’t funny.”

  Bloke flinched. “Sorry, sir, it couldn’t be helped. This rotter had to be caught before he stole everything in sight.”

  “Well, we’d just made our bank deposit, so you didn’t do us any favors.”

  Powerhouse spread his hands. “Sir, I’ll take care of this mess.”

  He superimagined all the broken glass repaired and the shop cleaned.

  The Steel Rottweiler said, “And we’ll cover the boomerangs used. We’ll need some for his arsenal. I’ll be by with cash later.”

  Powerhouse nodded. “Rottweiler’s secret identity has a lot of money, so he’s good for it.”

  “Be here before the end of business or we’ll call the police.” The clerk marched into a storage room and slammed the door.

  Powerhouse scratched his helmet. “Rottweiler, why are you buying him an arsenal?”

  The Boomerang Bloke beamed. “I’m his new sidekick! He took a shine to me in trainin’ and said I could work under him. He’s the coolest superhero in Tacoma.”

  “Great.” Powerhouse patted Bloke’s arm. “Stay safe, chums.”

  “Danger’s part of the biz.” The Rottweiler waved. “We dropped sixteen gunmen today.”

  What? He’d started the Powerhouse Squad so they would take down the minor criminals, not so they’d take huge risks. They should have waited for the police. Then again, people could have been hurt. “Well, good job, gentlemen.”

  Of course, he’d come back for nothing.

  Powerhouse’s cell phone beeped. He read the new text message from the chief. New gang war set to break out. Hundreds could be killed. Come now.

  Powerhouse grimaced and flew towards Police headquarters.

  Naomi sat up in bed with an iPad on her lap, reading over her friends’ social media posts. Who could she trust? Carmella was out of the country and not online. Besides, she’d evidently gone on the mission trip to gain the reward of bragging rights. Perhaps Rachel Farrow was a real friend.

  She pulled up Rachel’s profile and read the status update.

  Another day of treatment for Rosie. Another day watching her suffer and slip away. God, please give me strength and help Rosie.

  Naomi added her comment to the thread. “I’ll pray for you.” She closed her eyes and whispered, “Lord, please help Rachel and Rosie. Give them peace and make Rosie better.”

  She opened her eyes and frowned. It’d been selfish of her to have even considered burdening that poor woman with her petty problems. But who did that leave? All her relationships at church were superficial. Her family was too bonkers to help, and Dave was out saving the world all day long.

  The window creaked open.

  Naomi reached for the .22 she kept in her nightstand. “Freeze!”

  “It’s me, honey,” Dave said as he climbed in the window.

  Naomi lowered the gun. “Don’t come in that way!”

  “Sorry, I was tired, and it was closer than the door, and I figured you’d be sound asleep. What are you doing up at two o’clock?”

  Waiting up for you. She sighed. That might be unsupportive and make him question whether he should be a hero. “Reading. How was your day?”

  Dave’s clothes instantly changed to his favorite Spider-Man pajamas and he crawled into bed. “I’ll skip recapping the half-dozen supervillain battles. You probably saw them on TV anyway. The best part of the day was that I saw the boys. I asked James about what you said to talk to him about. He said that nothing’s changing, so there’s no need to talk.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes. “When you were thirteen, if somebody had asked you if anything was changing, would you know how to answer? He’s growing up, and you need to face it. The book I ordered came in the mail. I put it by your desk. You need to talk to him.”

  “But it seems like it was only yesterday that we brought our baby home from the hospital.”

  Naomi sniffed. “Yes, but this isn’t a tough thing I can do for you, Dave.”

  Dave sighed. “I’ll wait at least wait until after camp. Not much chance of them running into a girl up there, at least not another one. Last time I got to talk to Derrick, he said a girl had stumbled into camp and got chased off by the security tree which nearly killed the poor kid. So I reprogrammed it. Hey, why are you blushing?”

  Face blazing, Naomi turned towards the wall. “My CEO duties aren’t keeping me busy enough to avoid boredom, with the boys gone. I wish I could take a little vacation.”

  “I understand you’re wanting to go to Paris. You can take that romantic vacation without me.”

  Naomi laughed. “It wouldn’t be romantic unless I was having an affair. I just want to get out of the house for a week.”

  “Perhaps we should secret you away to a secure location, too.” Dave yawned. “I’m worried a bad guy might follow me home.”

  That was all she was managing to do. Complicate his life and make him worry about one more thing. Naomi sniffled. “Thanks, Dave.”

  Dave turned over. “What’s wrong? Was this one of those secret female tests you do where I’m not supposed to agree to what you’re asking for?”

  Maybe. Naomi swallowed. She’d have to try harder to mean it. “No, this isn’t a trap. It was just a little something in my throat.”

  “If you’re sure. Good night.”

  Naomi smiled. At least she’d have time in Wyoming where she belonged.

  Chapter 9

  The Ride of Justice

  Naomi turned white as she stared at her withdrawal slip. We’ve been ripped off. “This isn’t right!”

  The teller asked, “What’s not?”

  “Sir, there’s thirty-thousand dollars missing from my savings account. I should have a hundred and twenty thousand dollars.”

  The teller said, “Let’s talk to one of our account representatives. Take a seat. It’ll be just a moment until one of them is available.”

  Naomi perched on the edge of a plush sage office chair and picked up a copy of Marie Claire.

  Soon, a square-jawed guy came over. “Mrs. Johnson, I gather there’s a slight discrepancy.”

  Naomi grimaced. “Thirty thousand dollars is not a slight discrepancy.”

  He led her to his desk. “Let me take a look at your account. Can I have you
r debit card?”

  Naomi handed it over.

  He scanned it. “Did you make a withdrawal for $29,987.78 back on the first of July?”

  Naomi gasped. “I certainly did not! Can you pull up an image of the withdrawal slip?”

  “Sure thing, Mrs. Johnson.” He turned his computer screen towards her. At the deposit slip big as life was the messy signature of Dave Johnson.

  What was he hiding from her that cost so much?

  “Is the signature authentic?”

  “If he made that withdrawal, he didn’t tell me.” Naomi scowled. “And I wasn’t supposed to find out until I got the statement in September.”

  “So you’re saying it’s not unauthorized.”

  Naomi grimaced. “I’d have to double check with my husband to be sure, so let’s assume he’s guilty, uh, that he did make the withdrawal for now.”

  “Before I let you go, Mrs. Johnson, you took $5,000 out of your account. You shouldn’t carry that much cash. Would you like some traveler’s checks?”

  And have to show everyone her ID? “Thanks for your concern, but no.” She drummed her fingers on the table. So much for feeling bad about her little raids on their joint savings account. “Actually, I’d like another $4,000 in cash.”

  The banker said, “There’s a big risk of getting robbed.”

  “I’d like to see someone try and rob me.” Naomi swallowed. Did she just say that?

  Major Joshua Speed sat in a motel room listening to the receiver they’d planted on the radio in the office building the communists were meeting at down the street. He sat across from Ace Johnson.

  “Where is Raspov?” asked the traitorous American Scientist’s voice.

  The East German spy replied, “He’ll be there soon, comrade. Relax, have a cigarette.”

  “You relax. I’m sitting here with info that could get me tried for treason. And why did you step outside?”

  “I had some business to attend to, comrade.”

  “This is a good device you worked up, Ace,” Major Speed whispered.

  Ace beamed. “Thanks! Now I want one thing from you. Tell me about the future.”