by Jane Kelley
GROSSET & DUNLAP
Penguin Young Readers Group
An Imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
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Text copyright © 2017 by Jane Kelley. Illustrations copyright © 2017 by Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC. Manufactured in China.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 9780451533395 (paperback
ISBN 9780451533401 (library binding)
ISBN 9780451533418 (ebook)
Version_1
For my husband, Lee, whose great ideas always save the day—JK
To all the superheroes of the world, especially those who don’t wear capes—JVI
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1: I Need My Cap
Chapter 2: A Real Disaster?
Chapter 3: Alligators Underground
Chapter 4: Watch Out! Archenemy!
Chapter 5: Not Mrs. Brussels!
Chapter 6: Saving The Day
Chapter 7: Monsters?
Chapter 8: A Real Superhero
1
I NEED MY CAP
My cap has a Speed Accelerator button. Should I push it? Mom hates when flames shoot out of my shoes. Even pretend ones. Clint McCool doesn’t need those rocket engines, anyway. I have fast feet.
Varrrrooooom! I fly down the stairs!
Varrrrooooom! I rush outside!
Oh no. Turtles are on the sidewalk!
Screeeech! I put on the brakes.
Hmm. Can I run on top of their shells? Nope. These aren’t real turtles. They’re kids with big backpacks. They walk so slow. Did they forget? Today Sol-Ray Man is coming to our school!
Sol-Ray Man is the most super superhero ever. He uses the sun’s rays to power up. He zooms to the disaster. He activates his light beams. He saves the planet three times in every episode. And today he’s going to tell me how.
I zigzag around the turtles.
“Wait for me, Walter!” Mom yells.
That’s right. She called me Walter. She named me Walter after my grandpa. What a disaster! Luckily, I knew what to do. I named myself. Clint McCool.
“Hi, Clint McCool!” Marco shouts. He’s at the corner with his mom.
I run up to him. He’s the best Best Friend ever. He always calls me by my real name. He’s supersmart. He made the buttons that control my powers. He tied each one to my cap. They help me save the day. That happens more than you’d think.
“Let’s go, Marco! Sol-Ray Man is coming today!” I say.
“I know. Look what I made.” Marco shows me his arms. He has special bands on his wrists. Each band has three shiny panels.
“Wow!” I say.
“XL7 Ray Benders,” Marco says. “Sol-Ray Man uses them. They direct his beams.”
“They zap around corners. Zap over buildings,” I say. “Zap past his archenemy Eclipse. So he can’t block Sol-Ray Man’s light,” I say. “Let me see them work.”
Marco doesn’t take them off. He moves his arm. Light zaps off the panels.
“Can I wear them?” I ask. “I need to show Sol-Ray Man I’m a superhero, too. I don’t want him to think I’m just a kid.”
“But, Clint McCool, you are a kid,” Marco says.
I sigh. I know. Real life is so boring. Except when we can have an escapade. Or when my friend makes cool stuff that he should share. “Please, Marco?”
“You have your cap,” Marco says.
“I can’t wear my cap in school.” Our teacher, Ms. Apple, always locks it in her desk. That’s a mistake. I need the cap. It helps me focus. Then I can control my powers. Ms. Apple doesn’t understand that. She’s a grown-up.
“I probably can’t wear these, either,” Marco says.
Marco’s right. School means rules. “Too bad we can’t zap around the rules.”
Then . . . Zing, zong, zing. Brain flash!
“I don’t need my cap. I don’t need all my powers—just one. And one button.”
Hmmm. Which one should I choose? Invisibility? Idea Generator? Speed Accelerator? That’s the one. Then I can race Sol-Ray Man around the auditorium.
I tug at the Speed Accelerator button. “Help me get it off.”
Marco twists.
I yank. “Why did you tie it so tight?” I say.
“So you wouldn’t lose it,” Marco says.
“What are you guys doing?” M.L. comes over to us. She’s our best friend, too. She can walk on her hands. For real. She doesn’t even have to cheat.
“Tug of war? I can beat you both,” M.L. says.
She could do it, too. She’s superstrong.
“Maybe later,” I say. “I need this Speed Accelerator button.”
M.L. grabs the button. Marco and I hold the cap. She pulls.
Pop! The string breaks. The button comes off. It flies through the air.
“Catch it!” Marco says.
I push the Jump button on my cap. I boing really high. But not high enough.
The Speed Accelerator button lands in the gutter. It rolls down through the grate. Disaster!
2
A REAL DISASTER?
“Get that button!” I kneel in the gutter. I stick my hand between the metal bars. I wiggle my fingers. “I can’t reach it.”
“Maybe I can lift the grate.” M.L. tugs at the bars. They don’t move.
Marco makes a fish hook out of a paper clip. “Let me try.” He catches some slimy leaves.
Big hands come down from the sky and pull us up. Is it monsters? No, just moms.
“I need my button,” I say.
“Stay away from the alligators,” Mom says.
“Are there alligators under the street?” I ask.
Our moms laugh. Heh heh heh heh.
What’s so funny? I push my Translator button. It usually helps me understand grown-ups. But today I don’t get English. I get Italian. “Salami pizza?”
“Some people think alligators live in the underground pipes,” Marco’s mom says.
“They do?” I say.
“They’re wrong,” M.L.’s mom says.
I look between the bars. I see something shiny. Is it a button? Or an alligator’s eye? This could be an escapade. If only our moms weren’t here.
“Come on, kids. You’ll be late for school,” M.L.’s mom says.
“Then we’ll be late for work,” Marco’s mom says.
I stick my hand in again.
“Did you forget about Sol-Ray Man?” Mom asks.
Clint McCool never forgets! His brain just gets busy sometimes.
We all run to the school yard. M.L. lets me win. Our moms say good-bye. Ms. Apple leads us into the school building.
We pass a poster on the wall. It’s a picture of Sol-Ray Man. USE YOUR LIGHT! POWER UP!
I touch the empty space on my cap.
“I’m sorry,” M.L. says. “I pulled t
oo hard.”
I sigh. I know I should say it’s okay. But it isn’t! “How will I ever be fast again?” I say.
“Don’t worry, Clint McCool. You don’t need that button,” Marco says.
I look at his XL7 Ray Benders. “Maybe I could have something else?”
Marco pulls his sleeves down over the shiny panels.
“You’re still a superhero,” M.L. says.
M.L. is right. Zing, zong, zing. Brain flash! My cap has lots of buttons. I’ll choose another one. What about the Jump button? If I can’t go fast, then I could go high.
I push it. I jump around the classroom to practice. Boing. Boing. Boing.
Ms. Apple puts her hand on my head. I try to jump sideways. I can’t.
“Walter. Give me the cap right now, or you can’t go see Sol-Ray Man.” Ms. Apple puts my cap in her desk. Bang. She slams the drawer shut.
BANG! A bigger noise comes from Thirteenth Street.
People shout from outside. Water gushes. It sounds like a million people are taking a shower. At the same time? That’s impossible.
But the noises are real. They aren’t something I made up in my head.
What’s going on?
All the kids are at the window. I run to look. M.L. lifts me up so I can see.
A fountain of water shoots up from the street. It’s taller than the trees. It’s wider than a car. What is it?
“Everybody get back!” people yell. “Water main break!”
3
ALLIGATORS UNDERGROUND
Kids scream, “Whoa!”
Kids shout, “Wow!”
Where does the water come from? I see a big hole in Thirteenth Street.
“Who broke the street?” I ask.
“Water flows through pipes under the street,” Ms. Apple says. “There’s lots of pressure. If an old pipe breaks, the water shoots up through the hole.”
Ms. Apple must be wrong. It can’t be a hole in an old pipe. It’s way too exciting.
“Everyone sit down,” Ms. Apple says. “The workers will turn off the water and fix the pipe. They don’t need our help.”
“Yes they do!” I shout. “What about the alligators?”
“Our moms were just kidding, Clint McCool,” Marco says.
“Moms never kid!” I say. “The alligators live in the pipes. They mostly sleep. But M.L. broke off my Speed Accelerator button. It went down the drain. It made one alligator superfast. He swam circles around the others.”
Kids stare at me. I show them how an alligator swims.
“The other alligators got mad. They started a fight. Their tails thrashed.”
I don’t have a tail. I use my arm. I knock over a chair. M.L.’s lunch spills onto the floor.
“That’s enough, Walter,” Ms. Apple says.
“The tails break the pipes. Water whooshes out.” I explode up from the ground. I don’t spit water. That would be gross.
“The smartest alligator sees the hole. He thinks, ‘Hey, I don’t have to live in a sewer.’ He crawls out of the pipe.” I pull myself across my desk.
Ms. Apple drags my chair to the corner. She points to it. “Walter, sit down! Everyone take your seats!” Ms. Apple shouts. “Or I will give you all a test!”
Kids gasp. They scurry to their chairs. But blank spaces on paper don’t scare me.
“I can’t sit down. Water is gushing! Alligators are fighting! Somebody has to save the day!” I say. But how?
I need my cap. What button should I use? The Reverse Time-O-Meter? Then I could go back to before M.L. lost the button. Invisibility? Then I could sneak out of school and fight the alligators. How can I do that? I’ll need help. M.L. is strong. Marco is smart. But alligators are big. And have lots of teeth. I sit down, but not to listen to Ms. Apple, I have to think.
Zing, zong, zing. Brain flash!
“We need Sol-Ray Man!”
I rush to the window.
I see fire trucks. I see police officers. I see barricades.
The spout of water is gone. Now there’s a river on Thirteenth Street.
Where’s Sol-Ray Man? He should be here by now. What happened? Did his archenemy Eclipse block his way?
Wait! I see Sol-Ray Man! On the other side of the river on Thirteenth Street.
I wave my arms. “Sol-Ray Man! Sol-Ray Man!”
“Attention, please. Attention, please.” Principal Torres’s voice crackles out of the speaker on the wall.
“There has been a water main break on Thirteenth Street. No one has been hurt. No one is in danger,” Principal Torres says. “The workers must shut down our water. School will be closed.”
“Yay!” Kids jump up and cheer.
Don’t they realize what this means?
“What about the assembly?” I ask. “What about Sol-Ray Man?”
“Your guardians have been called,” Principal Torres says. “They will pick you up from the cafeteria. Classes will be dismissed one at a time. Wait for further instructions.”
“Wait? Why do we have to wait?” I say. “Sol-Ray Man can save the day. He’ll raise his arms to the sky. His XL7 Ray Benders will zap sunbeams to the street. The light will fix the pipe. And I will help him fight the alligators.”
But none of that can happen.
Sol-Ray Man turns. He walks away from the river on Thirteenth Street. Away from the disaster. And away from me.
4
WATCH OUT! ARCHENEMY!
I rush to the door. Ms. Apple gets there first. Hmmm. Does she have superpowers, too?
“Wait for instructions, Walter,” Ms. Apple says.
“Sol-Ray Man is leaving. I have to see him,” I say.
“I’m sorry, Walter,” Ms. Apple says. “Maybe Sol-Ray Man can come another day.”
“Another day?” I wail. That will be too late. He needs to tell me superhero stuff. Like how to fight enemies after bedtime. Do superheroes really eat spinach, or did Mom make that up? And the most important thing of all. Why did he leave? Why didn’t he save the day?
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat.
Oh no! Sol-Ray Man is being attacked.
I run to the window. I don’t see any monsters.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat.
“Marco, what’s going on?” I ask.
“That’s a jackhammer,” Marco says.
“Jack Hammer! Is he Sol-Ray Man’s new archenemy?”
“No, Clint McCool. Look.” Marco points to a worker.
The worker leans on a machine shaped like a T. The point at the bottom breaks a hole in the cement.
“I knew that,” I say. “I was just fooling.”
Marco smiles.
“Why is he tearing up the street? There’s already a hole,” I say.
“The workers dig up the broken pipe. Then they put in a new one,” Marco says.
I rush to Ms. Apple. “We don’t need to leave. They’re fixing it.”
“It will take hours,” Ms. Apple says. “Now gather up your belongings.”
Kids grab their backpacks. M.L. unwraps the foil off her sandwich. She sneaks a bite. Everyone gets ready but me. I won’t go home. I can’t.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat.
I put my hands over my ears. The noise makes it hard to think.
I wish I had my Idea Generator. It’s in Ms. Apple’s desk. Could Marco make me another one?
I look at Marco. Sunbeams bounce off his XL7 Ray Benders.
Zing, zong, zing. Brain flash! Now I know what to do. I can help Sol-Ray Man save the day!
“Pssst. Marco.”
“Be quiet, Walter,” Ms. Apple says.
I shrug. I know I should ask Marco first. But I can’t. Ms. Apple won’t let me talk.
I crawl between the desks. I reach up. I grab one XL7 Ray Bender. I pull it off Marco’s arm. I scurr
y back to my desk.
“Hey!” Marco says.
“Marco!” Ms. Apple says.
“Attention, please.” Principal Torres talks through the speaker. “Your guardians are in the cafeteria. Kindergartners should go there now. Everyone else will wait.”
Luckily, I don’t have to pay attention to what she says. I can think about saving the day.
I put on the XL7 Ray Bender. It zaps a tiny sunbeam out the window.
Has the day been saved?
No. I shake my wrist. Hmmm. Maybe it needs a bigger panel? I look for supplies in my desk. I find lots of notes from Ms. Apple, three broken pencils, and a banana.
I need something shiny. But what? The classroom only has books. Then I see M.L.’s sandwich. I grab it.
“Hey!” M.L. says.
I unwrap the foil. I push away the sandwich. It falls on the floor. That’s okay. Now M.L. can pick it up. I stick the pencils in the wrist band. They fall over.
“Pssst. M.L. Do you have gum?” I whisper.
M.L. glares at me.
That’s okay. I have some stored under my chair. I reach down to get it. I stick the gum on the wrist band. I stick the pencils in the gum. I stick the tinfoil on the pencils. My invention looks great. Now I have a super-duper XL7 Ray Bender!
I raise my arm. It needs to be closer to the sun. I stand up.
“What did you do to my invention?” Marco says.
He looks mad. Hmmm. I wonder why. I just made it better.
Suddenly, a voice calls, “Yoo-hoo! Wally!”
“Wally?” all the kids say.
I forgot that there is a worse name than Walter.
An old woman staggers into the classroom. She wears a spotted raincoat and big boots. She carries an umbrella with ruffles. A plastic bag covers her hair. “There you are, Wally.”