Aquaman
Times Past, 1982
Wash Out
by Martin Maenza
It was after midnight at one of the large outdoor stadiums in Gotham City. The sky was clear and the air crisp.
Earlier today, the maintenance crews were occupied with last minute preparations – bulbs were checked and replaced on the large tower lights, rails were touched up with last minute paint applications, the grass of the infield was clipped to regulation measures, and the dirt was raked for the base lines around the diamond. Even the vendors insured their supplies were all in order: pennants and hats for sale, hot dogs for sizzling, pop corn for popping and beverages to be poured.
All was prepared for the first pitch to be thrown this next afternoon. For the day that would be dawning was opening day of the new baseball season.
Amid the shadows cast down by the full April moon above, a figure lurked in the darkness. The high collar and the puffed sleeves from his tunic were barely discernible in the dark. He kept himself hidden though he doubted anyone would be around at this hour. “Only the rats and us criminals,” he laughed to himself.
He moved stealthily behind the bleachers in right field, heading towards the dug out area for the home team. “So clean,” he noted to himself softly. “Not one dropped wrapper, nor any spilled popcorn or discarded cups.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t seem right. Nothing even for the rats tonight.”
“I guess that just leaves little old me. Hee hee.” Pulling a piece of paper from his yellow and black striped belt, the man squinted in the moonlight to read the words.
“The Gotham City Giants versus the Metropolis Metros,” he said to himself. “Both teams look good this year. A big crowd is expected as well. Too bad the match up won’t be happening, because I have plans to rain on that parade! Ha ha ha ha ha!”
And with that, the mysterious man slipped into the shadows of the night and was gone.
***
Thirteen hours later, in the announcers booth at the very same stadium, two men went back and forth with banter as the players were on the field warming up.
“Good afternoon to all our listeners in Gotham and the surrounding area,” the one man with brown hair said in his deep radio voice, “and welcome to the first big game of the season. I’m Jimmy A., and I’ll be calling the play by play to today’s Giants game. Its a gorgeous Tuesday, the temperature is in the upper fifties and sunny. Perfect weather for a ball game.”
“I have to agree,” the other man, a blonde and slightly older, chimed in.
The first man smiled. “Listeners, let me introduce someone to you. He’s an old friend of mine, and we’ve worked together on and off for the last few years. Curt S. is here from our sister station in Metropolis. He’s come all this way today to watch his home team lose I’m afraid.”
The second man pouted slightly. “I wouldn’t go that far, Jimmy. The Metros have some new players from this year’s draft – Rodriquez, Kappen and Schultz, and are looking very sharp. I watched their drills the other day, and they’ve got their hustle down solid. Don’t count us out before the first pitch has been thrown.”
“I don’t know,” Jimmy replied. “Over ten thousand fans in the stadium here might have to argue with you otherwise.”
“I doubt the Metros fans here today would argue with me,” Curt answered. “You know whenever these two teams play, the stadium is usually filled by fans from both sides. The cities are relatively close after all.”
“True. Well, in any case, it looks like the warm ups are just about over,” Jimmy said. “Any minute now we should be ready to go.”
There was a loud rumble in the sky. Given that the sky was clear, most thought it was probably just a passing aircraft at first. But the rumble was loud and long, reverberating as it went.
Both announcers and most of the people in the stadium looked to the heavens as a second rumble happened.
The sky suddenly grew very dark, very fast. Heavy full clouds came in out of nowhere from the west and began to open up. Rain drenched down from the sky in a strong steady current, sending folks ducking for cover or trying to use whatever they could to shield their heads. The players on the field scurried too, their cleats slopping through puddles that were already forming on the field. Their crisp, pressed uniforms were now soaked and stained. The equipment managers rushed about collecting the bats and balls as best they could.
Lightning shot down from the sky in a shocking streak. It was accompanied immediately by a thunderous boom that shook the whole stadium.
In the booth, Curt and Jimmy sat slack jawed. Neither had ever witnessed a freak storm come up so fast. Finally, the announcer from Metropolis said, “I thought you said this was going to be perfect weather for a ball game, Jimmy?”
Jimmy glanced at the man. “Well, Curt, I guess the weather men didn’t see this one coming.” He glanced down at the field as the rain continued to come down in heavy sheets.
The puddles were starting to run together, making bigger and bigger pools. There didn’t appear to be any indications that this freak and sudden storm would stop as quickly as it came up and started. “Hold tight, radio fans. We’ll check with the officials to find out how much of a delay of game we’re looking at,” Jimmy said.
Another lightning and thunder burst answered him. There would be no ball game today.
***
Four days later on the steps of the Central City Police Station, a man in a tan rain coat with his collar turned up rushed up to the double glass doors. A blonde haired man who had just stepped out of the rain a few moments before held open one of the doors. “Hey, thanks a lot, Barry,” the just arriving man said as he shook off his coat before stepping into the marble floored foyer.
“Not a problem, Darryl,” Barry Allen replied. “What brings you in to the station on a Saturday? Paperwork?”
“None that I had planned to do,” Darryl Frey said as the two men started down the hall together. “I had planned on going out to see the Stars play with my neighbor, but Mother Nature must not be in a good mood.”
The forensic officer nodded. “Yeah, I hear that. Iris and I were supposed to cook out with my parents today. Ah well, I guess a little rain is good for the environment though. April showers and May flowers, you know.”
Thunder echoed in the background, and the rain fell harder.
“Just as long as we don’t get any flooding, eh?” Darryl said.
“That we don’t need,” Barry said. He motioned to the vending area. “How’s about a hot chocolate? My mother always used to make it on days like today. It seems to hit the spot.”
Darryl nodded. “Sounds good, but I better get a black coffee instead. You know how the paperwork can be. I can use the caffeine.”
Barry laughed in agreement. The two men chit chatted a bit more before spending the rest of the rainy day in the office.
***
Two nights later, in a small community just outside of Denver, Colorado, a dark haired man rushed upstairs from the basement. His pants were soaked all the way up to his upper thighs.
His brown haired wife looked up from the table where she sat. “Gracious, Randy, what happened down there?”
“Sharon, grab little Stan and Shelly and head upstairs fast!” the man replied as he rummaged under the sink for a plunger.
“The kids? Why?” Sharon Marsh asked as she put down the jar of baby food and spoon. She undid the tray on the high chair and hoisted up the little boy, just a year old, into her arms. “What’s the matter?”
“Baby, I’ve never seen Spring time run off from the Rockies get so bad,” he said with some concern in his voice. “The water in the basement’s starting to rise up higher every minute! I’ve got try and see if there’s a clog in the drains or something.”
“Be careful!” Sharon said as she started to move into the living room where young Shelly was watching television. The phone rang just then.
Sharon shifted the infant in her arms and answered it. “Hello!” Sharon said. “What? No, Liane. I don’t think you and baby Eric should try to come over here!” She moved the curtains back from the front window and looked out into the street. She saw one of the trash cans float by on a torrent of dark water that rolled down the street. Thunder rocked the skies. “Its coming down like cats and dogs out there! I don’t think its a good idea for you to drive anywhere.”
Sharon stretched the extension cord on the phone far enough to switch off the television.
“Hey,” the four year old girl said after pulling her thumb out of her mouth. “I was watchin’ that!”
Sharon turned the phone to her shoulder. “Cartoons will rot your brain,” she said to her daughter sternly. “And you’ll need braces when you get older if you don’t stop sucking that thumb!”
Shelly shoved the thumb back into her mouth defiantly.
“Liane, I have to go!” Sharon said, scowling at the girl. “Randy wants me to get the kids upstairs to higher ground. If you see any flooding from your basement, you should do so too. OK? Talk to you soon. Bye.” Sharon Marsh hung up the phone, grabbed her daughter’s hand and hurried the kids to the second floor.
***
Three days later, in a large satellite orbiting the Earth 22,300 miles, a blonde man dressed in an orange shirt and green pants sat in front of the Justice League’s monitor screens. Given the sometimes tedious nature of the monitor duty when things were quiet and the recent circumstances in his own life, Aquaman was lost in thought.
After he abdicated the throne of Atlantis, to which his old friend Vulko took up the position, Aquaman seemed besieged with one battle after another. Starro the Conqueror and Black Manta, and then most recently the Fisherman, the Scavenger and Kobra. Batman and Green Lantern had helped the defender of the oceans in that last fight, putting a stop to the would-be world conqueror’s plans.
But the battles kept the Sea King’s mind off the fact that his personal life was crumbling down around him. Black Manta had kidnapped his son, Arthur Jr., and held the child as a hostage until Aquaman and his young protégé Aqualad could be forced into a battle to the death. The Sea King managed to figure a way out of the no-win situation without either of the heroes having to die in the process, but his actions came at a cost!
Arthur Jr. was dying as a result of Manta’s holding him captive! Aquaman vowed to track down his escaping foe to make him pay. Aqualad, however, refused to help him track Manta, for the young hero felt betrayed by the fact that Aquaman would have killed him to save the infant. The two partners parted on not so good terms, their long term relationship strained.
To make matters worse, while Aquaman was rounding up Black Manta, his wife Mera took off for parts unknown in hopes to try and find a way to save their dying son. Unfortunately, the child passed on while she was off seeking assistance; Aquaman knew that things would be very difficult when she returned. As soon as his monitor duty ended, he planned to return to Atlantis and grieve properly with his wife.
“Enough!” he said to himself aloud, pounding his right fist into his left hand in frustration. “These thoughts only serve to make me angry again!”
Aquaman felt the need for a distraction. And since the monitor board was not providing him anything to focus upon, he turned on a television monitor that picked up broadcasts from the Earth below. “I wonder how Clark is doing with the evening news.”
On WGBS, Steve Lombard, a brown haired broadcaster in a tan sports coat, was discussing the latest sports news.
“Tonight’s game between the Houston Astros and the Seattle Mariners was called on account of rain in the sixth inning,” Lombard said, talking to the camera as if it were a buddy in a bar. “The Mariners were leading three to two when officials had to stop play. After over thirty minutes delay, they had to call the game completely. That makes four major league ball games in the ten days since the season opened that have been a wash out. Not a good start to the season. League commissioners are considering rescheduling if more continue.”
Normally, Aquaman would have not cared about the comments. He rarely followed the events of the surface world, or more in particular the sporting ones. But something about this nagged at the back of his head. It almost seemed… strange… to him.
Steve, meanwhile, was finished with the scores and was exchanging banter with Clark Kent, the anchor, and the evening weather man. “Any chance of the Metros getting rained out tomorrow, Larry?” Lombard asked.
“The entire East coast looks free of fronts,” the weather man replied. “I’ll have more details in my full forecast coming up.” The broadcast cut to commercial.
Aquaman turned to the computer keyboard next to him and started to pull together some information.
***
The Sea King was down in the pool swimming a rigorous set of laps when someone joined him in the room. The newcomer watched Aquaman execute a kick turn at the far end of the pool before returning. Another moment later, the blonde man hoisted himself out of the pool; the water rushed off his body and onto the tiled deck.
Aquaman nodded to acknowledge the newcomer who was dressed in a red costume with yellow trim and a blue cape. A yellow circle with a ‘T’ in the center sat squarely on the costume’s chest. “Thank you for coming, Tornado,” the hero said to the crimson faced android.
“Of course,” Red Tornado said in a matter of fact way. “You called and asked if I could relieve you a few hours early. I was able, so here I am.”
Aquaman looked at his teammate. The android’s dark and empty eye sockets were focused on him; sophisticated sensors and circuits processed the data transmitted to them. “Good,” he said eventually. “I was working on something on a situation tonight while watching the monitors, and I think I finally have something to go on.”
“The strange weather patterns?” the android asked.
Aquaman raised his eyebrow. “You know about them?”
“I saw the data,” Tornado replied, “when I transported up. When you were not at the monitors, I checked them to insure all was well. At that time, I noticed what you were working on.” The android saw the Sea King’s slightly concerned look. “I hope you do not mind.”
Aquaman shook his head. “No, that’s OK. As I said, I believe I’ve figured out a pattern to it and have a suspicion to who’s behind it. It’s just a matter of determining the next target.”
“And you have determined that?”
Aquaman started to smile. “Tornado, I believe I have.”
***
The water level continued to rise at Peachtree Center; it was already up to the fourth floor windows with no sign of stopping. And it was the same all over downtown Atlanta. The southern capital city was in the midst of an attack not seen there since the days of Sherman’s march during the Civil War. At that time, the city burned to the ground and could actually have used the incredible rain that fell on this day to put out the flames.
Aquaman materialized, thanks to the JLA’s transporter system, atop one of the city’s taller buildings and frowned. The storm that was raining down on the city was so extreme that the streets were flooded to great levels, forcing many to abandon their vehicles and try to swim to safety in the raging currents.
Not everyone was that successful.
Aquaman dove into the dark water as the rain continued to fall at a heavy, steady pace. First, the victims, he thought as he swam down to where some of the cars were. It reminded him of a sunken ship yard, yet these were not vehicles that had been abandoned for decades. This sudden storm was not even an hour old.
Aquaman’s eyes easily adjusted to the darkness of the depths. He soon noticed someone trapped in a red pickup truck. Moving quickly to the vehicle, he saw the panicked look upon its occupant’s face. Aquaman grabbed the door by the handle and, with one mighty pull, he ripped the door from its hinges.
The man in the truck was shocked as the water rushed in to displace the air; he was even more shocked when a green gloved hand firmly grabbed him and pulled him from the truck. Moments later, the man tasted fresh air as Aquaman pulled him to the surface. “Cough…cough…thanks,” the man said.
“Get some place safe,” Aquaman commanded. He glanced up to the skyline and saw an outline of a figure moving along the edges. “I have to take care of this situation at the source!”
***
Aquaman moved through the water at a rapid pace, all the while tracking the figure who raced across rooftops and walls. A small row boat full of folks who were trying to navigate the horrid flood shouted out to the hero.
“Look! It’s Aquaman!”
“Thank heavens! We’re saved!”
The Sea King saw the people were doing OK on their own. He had a more pressing matter to attend to. He saw the figure he was tracking leap down to a stone wall about eight feet above the water’s level. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky just then, allowing the hero to make out clearly who the man was. Aquaman’s suspicions were confirmed upon seeing a dark haired man in a green costume with a high collar and a yellow and black striped belt.
“The Weather Wizard!” Aquaman growled.
It had been barely six months prior since the last time the two men faced one another. The Weather Wizard was part of the Flash’s Rogues Gallery and usually kept his capers confined to Central City. However, it was while stealing an experimental vibration controlling device from a NATO cargo jet that the costumed criminal crossed paths with Aquaman. The two battled, but in the end the Sea King was victorious.
Aquaman planned to be victorious again!
The Weather Wizard noticed the hero barring down upon him. “Aquaman? What are you doing here?”
“Putting a stop to your evil plans!”
“Really?” the Wizard sneered. “Well, I’ve got a shock for you!” He waved his special wand like device, one that could easily manipulate weather conditions, and summoned forth a chain of lightning from the heavens.
The blistering bolts struck the water around the hero, and the fluid conducted the current easily. Aquaman screamed out in pain as the lightning coursed through his body. “Aaaaaaaah!” With that, the hero sank down below the water’s surface.
“See?” the Wizard chuckled. “I told you it would be shocking! Ha ha ha!” The villain started off along the wall. The water on each side continued to flow and churn as the flood waters continued to rise. “Now that my business here is done, its time to go collect my reward!”
“Oh really?” a voice called. “And what would that be?”
Weather Wizard turned just as Aquaman sprang forth from the water. “You’re supposed to be sleeping with the fishes, water-boy!” the villain growled.
“It takes more than a little electricity to take me out!” Aquaman replied, landing on the wall. “You might as well give up! I’ve figured out your little scheme.”
“Oh, have you now?” the Weather Wizard asked. “I doubt it!”
“Batman doesn’t have the market cornered on detective work,” Aquaman said. “Once I matched the unexplained floods to a series of baseball games, all I had to do was figure out where you’d strike next. First the Metros, a play on the word meteorological. Then Denver and its team ‘the Storm’. The Houston game was against the Mariners. And now today’s game with Atlanta against the Milwaukee Brewers. All the games had weather or water themes to them. Once I added in Central City, home town of your hated foe, the five points roughly mapped out into a ‘W’ pattern. Put it all together, and it pointed to you, Weather Wizard!”
“Bravo!” the villain clapped. “Not bad for someone waterlogged in the head! Now, for your reward!” He waved his weather wand.
Suddenly, the nearby floodwaters began to swirl around and then rose into the air into a deadly water spout. Aquaman braced himself as the water came crashing down upon the spot he was standing.
“Ha ha!” the Weather Wizard laughed. “I can keep this up all day as long as I have my wand!”
Aquaman burst out of the spinning spiral. “Then I’ll put an end to this now!” Moving swiftly through the air, he slammed into the costumed villain and knocked him off the wall. Both men splashed into the flood waters.
The Weather Wizard struggled to try and get to the surface. Aquaman smiled. Things were in his element now! He grabbed for the villain’s hand and squeezed the man’s wrist hard. The weather wand came loose from the Wizard’s grasp. Aquaman pushed the villain towards the surface while he snatched the stick.
Aquaman then pulled himself onto the wall and hoisted the drenched villain up as well. “OK, Wizard, its over!” the hero said. He gave the device a wave, and the storm started to subside. Weather Wizard was still catching his breath when Aquaman hoisted him into the air with his free hand. “Now, I figured out the pattern of your little rain making, but I want to know why you did it!”
Weather Wizard coughed and spat. “Why should I tell you, fish-man?”
Aquaman glared at him. “Unless you want another soaking, you’ll tell me. Now!”
Weather Wizard considered. The Sea King looked rather serious about his threat. “All right, all right,” he conceded. “I’ll tell you. It was all about money.”
“Money?” Aquaman asked. “From robbing flooded cities?”
“Nothing that difficult,” the Wizard replied. “I was making money a more legit way, from placing bets in Las Vegas. You’d be amazed all the different things you can make wagers on there! After I got out of jail, I thought maybe I’d try to convert the little cash I had into a bigger pool. I realized that in Vegas you can bet on all aspects of sporting events, even little details like whether a game gets called or not. The odds were always high on events getting rained out when the weather was supposed to be perfect, so I figured I’d put down some money and then help Mother Nature along a bit. After the first payout on opening day, I kept reinvesting the money on subsequent games. I would have made a fortune too if I could have kept the streak going!”
Aquaman shook his head in disbelief. He did not know what disgusted him more: that surface dwellers wasted so much of their money gambling on things in hopes to gain more, or that this criminal scum was willing to risk the lives of others to help further line his own pockets. The Sea King felt anger welling up inside him. Taking the weather wand, he snapped it in half. “You’re a fool, Wizard!”
“Tell me about it,” the villain replied glumly. “Next time, I go with football.”
