"To save the World, of course."

The first time it was just …well, strange.

“Honey, er…uh…well, (turning red with a blush that spread to his neck and chest) I heard you mumbling…something.”

Actually he heard her say: “That darn TV is so loud the neighbors are answering the Questions posed on the show. I wish he would wear his darn hearing aides.”

“What?!”

A small laugh found its way out of the Irony. She was using his word. The word he used more and more every single day. Now that he was in his Seventies…well, it was almost the only word.

“I said…”

(Interrupting him before he could finish…which normally would have been rude. But not now. Now it was the correct thing to do.)

“I heard you. What I can’t believe…is…you…heard…me.”

And he did. 

The next time... was the very next morning. 

She slept like a baby. For the first time in almost a decade, the house was a quiet. The TV was not blaring. Her husband, who thought he was talking normally, was not yelling things out so loud that often the Police were called. Only to find out, after just a few moments and the obligatory loud: “What? I can’t hear you. Speak up for crying out loud.” Being yelled at them from just three feet away. That there was no abuse. No fighting. Just an old guy to proud to wear his hearing aides. 

They would thank her for her time, and patience. Give that look that said: “You poor thing.” And get back in their Squad Car. 

She heard his voice. Soft. Warm. Gentle. Like sweet honey poured over morning toast. The Voice that swept her off her feet some 48 years ago. A tear formed in her eye. It must be a dream. She smiled and kept her eyes closed. If it was a dream, she was going to eek out every single moment of quiet conversation. The voice, while still warm, soft, and gentle, got a bit stronger. 

“Honey. My teeth fell out. All of them.”

She opened an eye to scan the joke. Then both eyes flew open. He wasn’t joking. In a bowl made by holding his hands like a cup…were all 17 of his remaining teeth. 

She went from horizontal and dreaming- to upright and staring- faster than she used to spring over the Vault in her gymnastics days. They called the Dentist. The Dentist said: 

“Not possible. Teeth don’t just fall out. Your gums are fine. No sign that you worried them loose. No periodontal disease apparent. No broken crowns, or partial roots. Let’s take an X-Ray. “

They did. The Dentist had a heart attack. The Dental Technician started to cry. When the Ambulance got there - the explanations made no sense. 

The ER Doctor told him that he must be lying. Nobody gets there hearing back, and new teeth, in 48 hours. His wife of 48 years let that young Doctor have an earful. An earful that made him wish he had kept his mouth shut. They left in a huff. The Doctor simply filed in his notes:

“A man having a psychotic breakdown , and his delusional partner were brought in with a Cardiac Arrest patient, and a young female suffering from shock. They left in a huff.” 

That was a week ago. Today she stared at her husband. She was looking up into his eyes. They were blue. She sighed. She loved blue eyes. But his used to be Brown. A golden brown. In fact, they were always brown. Not now. It just went with the other odd things over the last ten days. 

She was looking up at his face. Up. She was five foot eight. He was (past tense) five foot four. The cutest little thing she ever did see. In fact, the night they met at the School Dance, she told her Mom over a late night tea: “I am going to marry that man. Too bad all the cute ones are short.”  And she did just that. 

So why was she looking up at him. Probably because he was now six foot two inches tall. He had lovely, thick, curly full bodied hair. On his head. And none on his back …or belly. You had to go back three decades to see any pictures of him with hair. And at least add another decade to that number to see him without a belly…just abs. And even then, you wouldn’t have seen the six pack he had now. 

For a moment, just a moment, she wished she was nineteen again. At that same time, he was thinking he hated looking nineteen again, with a body he never had as a teenager. 

This time, they both had to see a Doctor. And a Lawyer. And a Psychiatrist. Eventually, they had to go to Court. Because the man who loved her now, wasn’t a seventy tottering on eighty year old man anymore. The Doctors said some kind of tumor must have triggered his pituitary gland, making his body revert to that of a late teenager. Ignoring all the other genetic markers that showed he wasn’t the same man anymore. 

The Lawyers said the old Seventy Year old man was gone. They declared him Legally Dead. Offering to artificially determine his new Birth Date to be exactly 19 years earlier. The Court Agreed. The Psychiatrist quit his practice and went into therapy. 

They went home that night. As they often used to do, they sat across from each other at the tiny round table in their kitchen. It fit two just fine. Her old hand looked even older as it lay in his younger hand. His thumb making gentle circles on her palm. 

The silence was filled with the kind of thoughts that  two people facing the extraordinary…might think. 

Finally she spoke. 

“What do we do now?”

He gripped her hand a bit tighter.

“We wait.”

“For what?”

He smiled. 

“Where are your glasses?”

“I don’t know. I think I left them in the car.”

“Then how come you can see my face?”

She blinked. Then blinked again. She looked over at the Calendar on the Wall, with all the crossed out Doctor’s Appointments. She could read the date and the time, in her own flowing cursive.

“I…I…I…”

He dropped a paper clip that was holding the Court Papers onto their floor. She heard it hit the floor. She gasped. 

He got up. Patted her shoulder and walked to the cupboard and got a Tupperware bowl. He put it next to her and sat down. 

“What’s that for?”

“Your teeth. Tomorrow morning.”

Her eyes, in all their 20/10 glory filled with tears.

A soft voice slipped from her lips. 

“You think…”

He sat down again. Reached across the table and held her hand. She held back. 

“Yes. I wonder what color your hair will be?”

“It better not be blonde. “

They laughed. It kept the fear at bay. 

Ten days later, they left their home of almost fifty years. Hand in hand. A striking young couple. Their whole lives in front of them. The Realtor who had sold their Parents house for them (wink, wink, nod, nod) asked what they were going to do now.

“Where are you going to go?”

She thought their answer was odd. 

“Why to save the world, of course. Miracles happen for a reason. "