PRESENTS

#6
FEATURING

"Spirits in the Material World: Part 1"
by Kell Carpenter
barchettaboy@yahoo.com

"…Jay? Jay! You in there, old man?" Alan Scott snapped his fingers in front of Jay Garrick's face.

Jay blinked, then shook his head. "Sorry Alan. I must've been wool-gathering…"

Alan cocked his head and looked at Jay. "Wool-gathering? More like completely absent from your body. You were a million miles away just then. What's up?"

"It's…nothing Alan. I was just somewhere else…" Jay massaged his temples, eyes closed. "…I haven't been sleeping as well as I normally do lately. Must be messing up my concentration."

Alan said nothing. He rested his chin in his hand and looked at his friend. "Something's wrong. Something BIG…" His eyes focused in on the man who he'd called friend for over sixty years. "…but if he doesn't want to talk, I won't push. I just hope everything's all right with him and..."

"…Joan? Joan, are you there?" Molly Scott chewed one of her fingernails nervously as she listened to the silence that answered her from the other end of the phone line. "Joan, it- it's not like you to put me off like this. I…" Molly covered her mouth to regain her composure. "…I thought you were going to help me with this. I thought you were going to help me-" The answering machine beeped loudly in her ear, marking the end of her allotted message time. Molly sat the receiver back into its cradle, continuing to chew her nails nervously. "I thought you were going to help me fight the c-cancer…" She finished in a small voice.

Joan Garrick looked at the answering machine. If looks could damage metal and plastic, Joan's would have melted the machine. She stabbed the ERASE button angrily.

"Old cow…" she muttered to herself. She shook her head in disgust and headed for the garage. She dragged her purse along the floor behind her, the car keys in hand.

Getting into the car, she cranked it up and checked her face in the mirror. She frowned slightly for a moment, regarding her reflection; scrutinizing it. Then, a small smile began to grow at the corners of her downturned mouth. It grew, spreading an almost ugly leer across her face. At last it reached her eyes. Now they were smiling too…but it was not a smile that carried warmth or joy. It was a smile that Joan Garrick's friends would not recognize from her. If she was still speaking to her friends, that is.

She slipped on a pair of sunglasses and put the car in gear. Still wearing the smile, she slipped into traffic and made her way out of suburban Keystone City and headed toward the city itself. She had a long trip ahead of her today…

This is how the world ends:

Your fingers find a lump in your breast. You feel an intruder, someone who has desecrated one of the most intimate parts of your life as a woman.

You endure the painful and cold and humiliating mammogram. As the machine squeezes your flesh into a position it was never meant to take. As that flesh is on display, for eyes both human and mechanical to see.

You are silent as the doctor tells you that a test is necessary. You endure more pain and humiliation, the needle's sting as the anesthesia numbs your breast. As the doctor and his staff silently excise part of you to perform the tests, as the cold becomes less noticeable.

You listen as the doctor shares your test results. As he doesn't quite meet your eye, but manages to tell you in a rehearsed consoling voice that the lump is malignant. As you feel the coldness spread to your entire body, numbing as the anesthesia could not.

You see the pain on your husband's face as you force yourself to tell him about the deadly disease you have. You see the worry and fear wash over him as it washed over you, making you feel as if your life is over.

You reach out to your closest friends, wanting -needing- their support for you like a drowning swimmer needs a lifeline. With their support, you feel as if a reprieve may be granted…until your best friend suddenly shuts you out. Her support seems to be withdrawn, a cruel joke at your expense.

For Molly Scott, this feels like the end of her world…

The end of the world was not the end of Molly, however. She was able to survive the end of the world. With the help of her husband, Alan; their friend Jay Garrick, but most especially with the support and kindness of Jay's wife Joan.

She was able to stand beside Molly in ways not even Alan could. She was another woman; she knew what it was like to live in fear that eventually your own body would betray you. Molly felt that with Joan by her side, she was able to stand up to anything.

But now…? How could Molly have a chance against this if Joan wouldn't stand beside her? How could she?

Las Vegas:

Jay sped through the old ghost town, tearing down building after building. His recent visit here had not been pleasant*, and he was happy to be demolishing the group of tenements that comprised the "city's" streets.

*See the last couple of issues - Kell

As he destroyed the rotted storefronts, he reflected on Joan's recent coolness. She had never withheld her affections from him, but for some reason she was now. He had returned from his battle with Edward Clariss to find her distant and aloof. Jay couldn't understand it.

He smashed through a hollow, rotten wall with relish. He couldn't force Joan to talk to him, but he could take out his frustrations here. There were plenty of frustrations to take out after his breakfast with Alan.

Alan had, of course, known something was wrong. You don't spend over half a century with someone and not know when there's something wrong. Jay just couldn't bring himself to discuss the intimate details of his marriage with a friend, even as good a friend as Alan. He might joke with Alan about his and Joan's sex life, but there were some things that were just too personal and private to discuss openly.

Suddenly, Jay stopped. The ghost town was gone; he had reduced the shabby storefront street into rubble and splintered wood. Shaking the cobwebs out for a moment, he set to the task of cleaning up the mess he had made.

As he removed the debris, he decided on a course of action. When he got home, he and Joan would have to talk. He just couldn't stand being cut off from her like this…

Jay ran back into Las Vegas for a minute to inform the powers that be that they were clear to begin their work on the now-vacant property. The city government had been most happy to accept Jay's offer of free demolition; they had been intending to prepare the land for more commercial growth, but could not afford it in the current economy.

Jay smiled to himself as he took off for Keystone. No matter his mood, assisting someone always made him feel better. Just as quickly, though, his thoughts turned darkly to the impending confrontation with Joan about her recent behavior.

He raced across the landscape, dreading what was coming…

Gateway City:

The plane touched down uneventfully. A woman that only barely matched Joan Garrick's description made her way through the airport's security regimen and picked up a rental car.

The grinning fool at the counter commented on the name on her license: "Rebecca Romaine, huh? Say, aren't you a little old for John Stamos?"

She sneered at him, giving him an unpleasant look. The young man flushed and finished processing her. She then made her way to the car lot, fuming. It was hotter here in Gateway City than the last time she'd been here. Of course, the last time she'd been here, she hadn't been an old woman. Nor would she remain an old woman for long; just long enough to make a change and catch up with Holt.

She checked her appearance in the car's mirror. She adjusted the black wig that hid her blond hair and put the car in gear, moving out into the flow of traffic headed toward Gateway University.

Keystone City:

Jay arrived home to find the house dark. Joan was nowhere to be found, and his worry increased.

He checked the answering machine, and found no messages. He sat down, confused and hurt. Why was she doing this? Why?

The phone rang, startling him. "Hello?"

Alan's voice was on the other end. "Jay? Where's Joan? She never returned Molly's call earlier today…"

"Call? I just checked the machine and there were no messages…" Jay's worry deepened. "I- I just don't know what's gotten into Joan lately…"

Alan's concerns from that morning resurfaced. "Jay, why don't you come over to our place in Gotham. We should probably talk about this and see what we can do."

"That- that sounds really good to me, Alan. I'll be there in a few minutes." He hung up the phone and stood looking around his home. He had never doubted Joan or their marriage. Now, for the first time in nearly a century, he doubted.

"Oh, God, Joan. I- I miss you so m-much…" Jay Garrick sank to his knees, buried his face in his hands and wept.

Gateway City:

After a moderate drive from the airport, "Rebecca Romaine" arrived at Gateway University.

She parked in a public lot near the science laboratories and headed for the high-tech facilities. Nobody gave her a second glance as she walked through the complex. With her book bag slung over one shoulder and her Gateway U student card hung around her neck, she looked like one of countless non-traditional students.

She headed for one lab in particular, at the far corner of the science complex. She made sure nobody was around and slid a key card, entered a number sequence into a keypad and was inside.

She headed directly through the large outer room to a door at the rear, dropping the bag, her wig and sunglasses. As she opened the door and entered the smaller room, a large smile spread across her face. The door shut behind her and there was silence in the lab suite.

Several minutes later, a handsome blond man of indeterminate age came through the same door. He wore the same smile "Rebecca Romaine" had worn as she entered, and he paused at a computer station on the west wall of the room.

"Good, good…" he muttered as he scrolled through several online documents. He printed out a flight confirmation, slipped it into his lightweight sport coat, and exited through the main door.

Outside, he slid his ID card and keyed in a code, securing the lab suite. He leisurely made his way through the complex toward the parking lot. Those he encountered on his way all greeted him by name, and he responded in kind.

In the parking lot, he found "Rebecca Romaine's" rental and slid behind the wheel. Before he started it up, he took a moment to admire himself in the mirror. Then he pulled out and made his way to the airport.

The clerk that had given "Rebecca" her car was surprised to see someone else returning it so soon. His confusion was etched plainly across his face as he asked "How's Mrs. Romaine, Mr…?"

The blond man smiled genially. "Michaels. Sloane Michaels. I'm an old acquaintance of Mrs. Romaine's. She got tied up over at the University, so I'm returning the car for her." His smile took on a harder edge. "I hope that's not going to be a problem…?"

The hairs on the clerk's neck stood up. "Oh, no Mr. Michaels. I'm sure everything is in order. Just company policy, you know…" He added a laugh. "Thanks for doing business with us. Give my best to Mrs. Romaine…?"

"No problem, pal. I'll tell her hello for you when I see her next…" His smile relaxed and he gave a mock salute before heading into the airport.

Later:

Sloane Michaels relaxed in his seat as the plane rose into the air. He smiled contentedly, swirling the contents of a glass of whiskey. He drained the glass, licked his lips and closed his eyes, savoring the taste. It had been a long, long time since he had tasted anything, and that only made the tasting that much sweeter.

His smile widened. Taste. The best taste of all was revenge. He was on his way to see about a nice appetizing taste of revenge. Once he'd visited Holt in New York, he'd set in on the main course. His revenge on Jay Garrick would be sweet indeed.

Life was good, he decided; especially the second time around. "That's the spirit…" he muttered. He chuckled darkly to himself at the joke.

He closed his eyes, dozing off to dreams of revenge.

New York:

Sloane Michaels slotted fifty cents into the pay phone at the airport. He marveled at the cost of a phone call. The last time he'd actually used a pay phone, it had cost him a dime. Bitterly recalling his years of imprisonment, he dialed the number on his printout. After a couple of rings, a voice answered on the other end.

"JSA headquarters, how may I help you?" a pleasant voice asked.

Sloane Michaels smiled nastily. "Yes, I'd like to speak to Mr. Terrific, please…"

Revenge would be sweet indeed…

NEXT ISSUE:
Things kick into high gear as the truth behind Joan's behavior and Sloane Michaels' true identity are revealed. Don't miss part 2 of "Spirits in the Material World"…

Fast Talk

Well, here we are! The first completely new issue of the Brave & Bold title at DC Heroes is here. I hope you've enjoyed the story (Unless you're one of those weirdos who scrolls down to the bottom and reads this first. If that's you, then stop and read the story!), and you can't wait to find out what the deal is with this Sloane Michaels guy.

Why do I hope you can't wait?

Because it means you're reading what I write! Pure, unadulterated ego boost!

Nah, just kidding. Well, only a little, anyway. I'm really hoping you're ready to read more, because for the first time in a long time, I'm ready to write more. I'm already starting on the next issue, and I'm working on what's coming next to Brave & Bold.

Stick around, because things only get better from here…

Kell