Ultimate Mid-life Crisis Read online

  Joshua frowned. “I’m on a leave of absence from the Freedom Legion. I spent last month traveling to camp meetings, to get plugged back into God.”

  “What you went through sounds horrible.”

  Arlene patted her husband’s arm. “I imagine the war was worse.”

  “It was real life.” Joshua sipped his coffee. “It wasn’t stylized or done to invoke pleasure. I was sick all those months spent tortured by the Pharaoh, and you’re the only people who believe me. Both the FBI and Black Cobra are concerned I’ve flipped my lid.”

  Ace smiled. “I don’t know why they think time travel’s unbelievable. After all, Batman and Robin do it two or three times a year.”

  Yeah, that was why these two believed him. Joshua chuckled. “Thanks for sentiment.”

  “The important thing is to get back to the fight.”

  “I intend to.”

  Arlene cleared her throat. “Perhaps first you should find yourself a wife.”

  Joshua smiled. “So you are still determined to marry me off? I’m even older than last time you raised the subject.”

  “You’re not too old. Look at us, Joshua. Ace and I didn’t get married until he was thirty-three, and he became a father at thirty-five. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  Joshua laughed. “He’ll be an old grandfather.”

  She tisked. “Sometimes, I think you’re impossible.”

  “My purpose is to keep America safe and pursue justice. No room for a woman in that.”

  Ace leaned back. “It’s like with Superman. He won’t marry Lois Lane until the world is free of crime and injustice.”

  Arlene sneered. “Superman is wrong and so is Joshua. Your life can fit into it whatever God wants it to hold.”

  Joshua said, “Wives of men in my line of work have the bad habit of becoming widows.”

  “My brother died while driving his car. Should drivers not get married?”

  “That’s not the same thing, Arlene.”

  “The risk is more, but our lives are in God’s hands. I hate the idea of you being alone because you’re afraid.”

  A voice cried, “Mommy, I go potty.”

  Arlene hurried to the play pen, took her son out, and led the small boy to the bathroom.

  Once Arlene was out of earshot, Ace said, “I don’t think you’re afraid. You’ve never been afraid. You just don’t need anybody.”

  Joshua smiled. Spoken like the awed sixth grader that he’d rescued from bullies. “I need friends, but romance isn’t my focus.”

  Arlene brought in her two-year-old, carrying him on her hip. “I’m going to get him ready for bed. Can you two take care of the dishes?”

  Ace laughed. “The two of us took care of a whole battalion of Nazis in ‘44. Dishes are nothing.”

  She playfully crossed her arms. “Then why did I have to rewash them the last time you did them?”

  Joshua saluted. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I guarantee that the dishes will be completed in a timely and appropriate manner.”

  Ace grinned. “Oh, yeah, make assurances. You’re not the one who’ll end up on KP duty if the mission fails.”

  Joshua nodded. “Of course not. I’m an officer.”

  The adults laughed.

  Arlene kissed her son and set him down. “Say good night to Daddy.”

  Ace took the boy in his arms, hugged him, and kissed him on his little forehead. “Night, champ.”

  The boy said, “Love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you, too, son.”

  Arlene led the boy over to Joshua Speed. “Little Joshua, say good night to Uncle Joshua.”

  Speed held Little Joshua and smiled as he stared at his big green eyes and messy black hair.

  The little boy said, “Love you, unca.”

  I was afraid I’d never see you again. As a tear formed, Joshua wiped his eye. Men shouldn’t cry in public over silly things. “Love you, too, Little Josh.”

  After a minute, he set down the toddler. The child’s mother led him up the stairs. Joshua watched his namesake climb up. He’d planned on having a family someday. First, came the powers, then came the war, and now he was thirty-eight and still single.

  Ace snapped his fingers. “Joshua, buddy you there?”

  “Sorry, Ace, my mind wandered. Let’s get on those dishes.”

  They entered the kitchen. Three pots and pans were already soaking on the counter next to a collection of dirty dinner dishes. Ace poured some Lux soap into the sink and added hot water from the tap. “You wash. I’ll dry.”

  Joshua put the dinner plates and utensils in and began to scrub.

  Ace said, “Was there ever anyone you ever were interested in?”

  Joshua stiffened. “Not you too.”

  “I’m just curious. Say, what about the lady from MI-5 and that big Greek woman, Maria?”

  Josh scrubbed a plate. “Cecilia was a friend. She was very proper, and I figured she’d marry a British lord. I was a tad off. She’s married to a member of the House of Commons and has three beautiful kids. She’s started writing etiquette books.” He rinsed the plate and put it in the strainer. “Maria was a curiosity, and I liked her. We both agreed a relationship was something we’d explore after the war, but she went MIA just before VE Day.”

  Ace dried the plate. “Any American girls?”

  “Yeah, one, but it doesn’t count.” Joshua swallowed and put another plate in the water.

  “What do you mean?”

  He scrubbed another plate. “I liked the nurse in the twenty-first century.”

  Ace grinned. “How old was she, in her time?”

  He rinsed off the plate. “Twenty-five, twenty-six, I’d guess.”

  Ace laughed. “And you said I robbed the cradle.”

  Joshua put up a finger. “I didn’t marry her. It’s too easy to feel like you’re in love when someone helps you in a crisis. I’ve had women think they’re in love with me when I rescue them.”

  Ace nodded. “I don’t think real love will hit you like that. It’ll be like with Arlene and I.”

  Joshua put the two Captain Marvel mugs in the dish water. “So I’ll meet my true love at a newsstand while we’re both buying comic books.”

  “I meant we were both just living our lives and God brought us together in His time.”

  “The two of you are perfect for each other. She really completes you.”

  Ace dried a plate. “Yeah, she has all the Captain Marvel comics I missed during the war. Though, that wasn’t the only reason I married her.”

  Joshua laughed as he scrubbed, the black mug he’d drank out of. “That’s good to know. I’ve got to head out in a few minutes.”

  “Where you going?”

  “San Francisco to meet up with a Bible smuggling outfit.”

  “I’d love to see the Reds stop you at the border.”

  “Oh, they’ll try. The Bible’s more dangerous to them than the CIA.”

  “When you get back, and you have any domestic actions, I want to be part of it. If you’d had me backing you up in Seattle, you wouldn’t have lost a year of your life being held by twenty-first century commies.”

  Joshua nodded. Even though he’d returned to the same year he left, he’d aged a year as a prisoner of the Pharaoh. “It was your anniversary and I didn’t think it was a huge deal.”

  “You were wrong about you not needing back up. I would have never forgiven myself if you’d disappeared forever.”

  Joshua finished scrubbing. “You think you’d move to Seattle?”

  “I don’t want to think about it. I’m much more a mountain guy than a sea guy. And you know I don’t like living in big cities. If I had to, I might live in a small town outside Seattle.”

  Joshua stared at the dishes. His disappearance and return had altered Johnson family history, if not the rest of the world. That young man he’d met who’d tried to help him when he’d been locked in a rest home was surely one of Ace’s descendants.

  He could’ve
been in the Seattle area for any number of reasons, but likely he’d grown up there. Ace would’ve moved to Seattle, determined not to leave until he’d found him. Did the descendant exist in this timeline? By keeping the family out of Seattle, had Joshua assured Ace’s grandson’s parents would never meet? What about Karen? Would she cease to exist based on what he did?

  Hopefully Ace’s grandson and Karen would exist, but in a better world.

  “You here?” Ace said, snapping his fingers.

  Joshua blinked. “I’m sorry, a weird feeling came over me.” He cleared his throat. “Could you finish the rest of these alone? I’ve got to run, if I’m going to catch my boat.”

  “Bring me back something from China.”

  “Will do. Thanks.” Speed grabbed his knapsack with his sea clothes and his uniform as well as toiletries and changed into his blue Major Speed outfit with electric gloves and a lighting logo and on the front. He put his pack on his back and raced towards San Francisco.

  He jogged in five minutes later and switched into his back up outfit of khaki pants and a white t-shirt. He knocked on the door. “Da Chun, are you there? It’s Speed.”

  Soft weeping came behind the door. A tear-streaked woman still wearing a flapper hairstyle opened the door. “Major Speed, everything is ruined. The ship was sabotaged.”

  Oh no. “By who?”

  A soft fist slammed into his back.

  He jumped to the back wall and stared in the opening of the door. Three feminine figures stood dressed in red ninja outfits.

  One said, “We are the Red Kunoichi, and we will stop you from sending your Capitalist Propaganda book to the glorious People’s Republic.”

  Speed changed into his superhero outfit and dashed to Da Chun just as the lead Kunoichi grabbed her shirt.

  He twisted the woman’s arm behind her.

  She gasped. “How do you anticipate my move?”

  “Easy, a Kunoichi is a ninja, and a ninja has no honor.” He delivered a light tap to her spine and she went limp.

  Three more Kunoichi ran towards him. Speed did a quick 360 to view all of the enemy. Two more Kunoichi were coming in the back window. He delivered jabs at pressure points on the attacking Kunoichi’s bodies too quickly for them to defend, and they collapsed to the floor.

  One of them staggered to her feet. He pressed on his electric glove and activated it. He fired a low-level stun burst at the stumbling Kunoichi.

  He pivoted. Only Da Chun. He dashed around the room at superspeed and ran into each Kunoichi and stunned her.

  A cloud of red smoke filled the room.

  Speed coughed and dashed over to Da.

  A katana lashed out of the darkness.

  After Speed dodged and delivered a sidekick to the Kunoichi’s chest, he stepped on her katana and grabbed it.

  He put the sword at her. “I want answers.”

  Smoke reappeared and covered her body.

  Speed coughed.

  The smoke cleared. She was gone.

  The leader’s voice echoed. “You escape with your life, capitalist dog. You keep katana to remember me by.”

  Da Chun gasped. “I can’t believe what happened. You fight women?”

  Speed felt a twinge of guilt even after all these years. “I try not to fight women, but I’ve long since had to concede to reality. The rules against hitting women were never meant to apply to violent criminals, commies, or Nazis.”

  Da Chun said, “You are so violent, like the men back home with Mao. Maybe, it is like King David, unable to build God’s house. Thus you can’t deliver the Bibles.”

  Speed’s face fell. “Ma’am, I protect the innocent. I don’t love violence. Are you saying you won’t let me deliver the Bibles?”

  “I have little to say about it, Major. We’ve never had a ship destroyed like that before I asked you to run this mission.”

  Speed blinked. This wasn’t like Da Chun to blame Speed for a calamity. She might be under a lot of pressure though. “How many crates do we have?”

  “There are two crates in the storage room.”

  Best to come back for them. No use lugging them across the ocean until he was sure where to drop them. “And where’s my contact?”

  “How are you going to get there with no boat?”

  “Trust God and trust me with how I’m going to get there.”

  “He’s in Shanghai. Let me write down his address.” She slid the note into his hand and handed him a map of Shanghai. “Here, you will need this.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He dashed out the door, took a breath of the salt air and jogged across the Pacific Ocean. He sped past the harbor of Shanghai and headed down the side street she’d indicated.

  The mid-morning sun shined upon him.

  He switched clothes, putting his costume in the knapsack and grabbing the suit he’d worn at Ace’s, then knocked on the door.

  An old man opened the door, his face bright in the morning sunlight. He said in Shanghainese, “Yes.”

  Speed spoke in Shanghainese. “Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines.”

  The man switched to Mandarin. “The labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat.”

  Speed said, “I trust you know why I’m here.”

  “I was not expecting you so soon.”

  “Change of plans, we were sabotaged, but we’ll get the parcel through. Where do you want it delivered?”

  “It would be best to deliver them to Zhangzhou. There is a missionary school that is now closed. Leave it under the desk. Our contact checks there daily and will find it.” He rattled off the address.

  Speed nodded. “Thank you.”

  Once the man closed the door, Speed changed back into his superhero costume, sped towards Zhangzhou, and located the school with boarded up windows but an open backdoor.

  “Perfect.” Now he could get the crates. Speed darted across the ocean to San Francisco and went back into the office.

  Da Chun said, “Where’d you go?”

  “China.” He grabbed one of the two-hundred pound crates, lifted with his knees, and ran across the ocean.

  A minute later, his arms ached. He jumped on a vacant ship docked in the harbor, lowered the box down, and inhaled.

  A man came on deck. “Hey, what are you doing?”

  Speed grabbed his crate, dashed across the rest of the ocean, and to the school. He stowed the crate and sped back to the warehouse.

  Da Chun shook her head. “There’s no way you went clear to China. Your boots aren’t even wet.”

  “I ran across the top of the water. Your bibles are delivered, at least the first crate. Let me grab the second. Could you strap that onto my back?”

  “You can carry it?”

  “Two hundred pounds? I should think so.” He lifted the crated and slid his body under than lifted with his knees and then she used a length of heavy rope to tie them to him.

  “Much obliged.” He walked out the door, calling, “Here I go.”

  He raced across the ocean, the salty air hitting once again. I could run out here all day, but I don’t have time. He ran into Zhanghou, dropped off the box, then ran back across the ocean and back onto the pier.

  Da Chun stood there, gaping. “I don’t understand. You disappeared, so I couldn’t see you, and you weren’t gone five minutes.”

  “That’s my power. I can move faster than the human eye can see.”

  She bowed her head. “I was wrong. You were exactly the right person, the only man on Earth who could have gotten those Bibles there without having to fly them in.”

  “I was just glad to help, ma’am.” If the Kunoichi had gotten their way, his mission would’ve been scuttled. Thankfully, God had given him a chance. Hopefully, his success in this mission would lead to others.

  Naomi got into the minivan. She looked at the empty house. No one needed her here. Fine, she could have an adventure. Dave wasn’t the only one who could run away from home.
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  She drove out of the garage, got on the road, and turned into a deserted cul-de-sac. “Van, transform into an invisible Mercedes with a red interior and jets that allow it to hover. Radar screen, appear on the dashboard.”

  The van turned into a sleek red Mercedes and rose straight up.

  Wyoming here I come. Naomi turned on the rocket car’s thrusters, typed in a course to the GPS device on the dashboard, and whooshed through the sky.

  She screamed like the boys would on a ride at the county fair. So what if it was undignified? No one would know. The wind rushed through her hair.

  After twenty minutes, Naomi set down the car on a back country road surrounded by dirt and trees. “Car, become a visible, normal red Mercedes.”

  The car obeyed.

  She got out. “Change look to Marie Dubois, in riding clothes.”

  Her skin de-aged to her mid-twenties. Her hair changed to blonde and fell to mid-back in a French braid. Unsightly fat vanished. She wore a pair of blue jeans and a stylish white shirt and cowboy hat. She drove two miles down the road, spotted the sign for McCormack Ranch, and turned off.

  A sleeping bag, water, canned foods, and marshmallows appeared in the backseat along with cast iron cookware replaced the assortment of junk the kids had left in the back seat the day she and Dave had dropped them off at camp. She jogged to the log farmhouse and knocked on the door.

  An unshaven, middle-aged man in a red cowboy shirt opened the door and peered at her. “May I help you?”

  “Bonjour, Monsieur McCormack,” Naomi said in a French accent. “I came for Cyrus, and I wanted to go camping.”

  McCormack smiled. “Cyrus is in the stables. It’ll be fifty dollars a night plus taxes for the camping.”

  Naomi pulled exact change from her wallet. “This should cover it.”

  “Quite nicely, ma’am. Have a good time.”

  She walked a quarter of a mile to a well-maintained red and white stable. She found Cyrus in the twelfth stall and stroked the horse’s brown face. “Are they taking good care of you, Cyrus?”