by Matthew Cody
Daniel wondered whom she was trying to convince, him or herself. “Mollie, why are you telling me all this? Why are you even hanging out with me? I’m sorry for what’s going to happen to Simon, I really am, but it’s obvious you don’t like me, so why are we here?”
“Because you’re the only one, Daniel,” she said, looking at him again. “You’re the only one who can break the Third Rule. Forever.” Mollie wore an expression he had never seen on her before, one that was almost worse than the anger, worse because it was directed at him. It was hope.
“You’re the only one who can save us.”
Daniel was stunned, and he was pretty sure that Mollie was crazy. If the Supers of Noble’s Green couldn’t stop whatever was happening to them, what could he do?
“But how? I’m nothing special.”
“And that’s why you’re perfect. See, I have this plan. And it’ll work. So shut up, walk and listen….”
The next day at school, Daniel managed to avoid Mollie—and all of the Supers for that matter. What would he say to them? Did Mollie expect him to lie for her? Though he hadn’t yet made up his mind, he was very close to doing so.
What Mollie wanted from him was very simple and also very frightening.
Mollie suspected you didn’t just wake up on your birthday without powers—something had to take them away. And she wasn’t alone in her suspicions. Eric had told her a story once about a couple of Supers who decided to try and save their friend. On the night before his thirteenth birthday, they stayed over at his house. The plan had been to stay awake with him all night, to keep a watch over him and to keep him safe. But when the three friends emerged from the house the next morning, all three were the same—ordinary. Even though two of the friends were only twelve at the time, they had undergone the same transformation. Because they had tried to save their friend, whatever had taken his powers had also come for theirs.
No one had tried anything like it since.
This was where Daniel came into the picture. Since he had no powers to start with, he was in no danger of losing them. He could stay with Simon, and at the very least bring back information about what really happened on a Super’s thirteenth birthday. At best, he might actually be able to stop it.
Him. Daniel Corrigan.
“Hey, anyone sitting here?”
Daniel looked up from his lunch of tuna fish and crackers and saw a boy standing over him with a lunch tray. He was a little older than Daniel, and though they had never spoken, Daniel knew him very well. Rohan had pointed him out several times.
The boy was Michael, who, once upon a time, had been the best flier there ever was.
“Uh, no,” answered Daniel. “Go right ahead.”
“So, you’re new, aren’t you?” he asked, sitting down across from Daniel.
“Yeah, sort of. My family moved here in August, just before school began.”
“You like it?”
Daniel thought for a moment about all that he had seen and heard in just a few months—the exhilaration of flight, the cold fear of finding himself alone with Clay and Bud—things he’d never dreamed would happen to him.
“I like it a lot.”
“That’s good,” said Michael, without much enthusiasm.
It was strange to be sitting here talking to Michael after all he had heard about him. It reminded him of the first time he saw Gram after finding out that she was sick. He hadn’t known then what to say or what to do, and he’d been terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing. Looking at Michael, Daniel felt the same way.
They ate without saying much of anything while Daniel tried not to stare. It was hard for him, though—he wanted to examine Michael’s every move, to see if he acted the same as the other Supers. Did he move differently or talk differently?
Daniel wondered if the signs would be visible if you knew what to look for.
“So I’ve seen you hanging around Eric and Mollie and those guys,” said Michael out of the blue. “Are you friends with them?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“That’s good. They’re cool kids. You know, I used to hang out with them until … until …”
Michael seemed to be struggling to find the right word. “Well, I guess I just got too old … or something.”
“Too old?”
“Huh? I dunno, I guess we just … got interested in different things.”
“Oh,” said Daniel. “I guess that happens.”
“They just wanted to keep playing the same dumb games, you know? The same stuff that we did when we were little kids, and, I don’t know, it just seemed silly all of a sudden.”
Michael stared at his food, but he was no longer eating.
“How’s Mollie these days?” he asked.
“She’s fine, I guess.”
“Boy, me and Mollie, we used to race each other all the time … I think … to see who was the fastest … runner, I guess. I don’t really remember. It’s strange, you’d think I’d be able to.”
Michael rubbed his eyes with his palms, as if he were trying to wipe the sleep away.
Daniel decided to try something then, something he knew was reckless but still worth a shot.
“Mollie’s told me about that,” he said. “She said that you two would race to see who was the fastest … flier.”
“Wh-what was that?” Michael looked Daniel in the eyes for the first time since sitting down, and a change came over his face. Michael seemed close to something now, very close, but it was still just out of view.
Daniel leaned in and whispered, “I know all about it, Michael. I know that you flew! They say that you were the best flier there ever was! Even Mollie says so. Can’t you remember?”
Michael was speaking slowly now, and he shut his eyes tight.
“I … remember … the wind….”
Just then his eyes popped back open and he started as if someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over his head.
“I used to dream a lot,” he said, suddenly relaxed. “I dreamt that I could fly. Almost every night. But I haven’t had that dream in a long, long time.”
Without another word, Michael stood and walked off. He didn’t bother with his lunch tray and he didn’t say goodbye to Daniel, or even acknowledge that they had been talking. He just wandered away, slowly, into the crowd of kids milling about the cafeteria, kids who were worried about other boys, girls, grades and parents. Kids with ordinary worries, kids who were just like him.
Watching him disappear into the crowd, Daniel knew what he would do. His mind was made up, and he had Michael to thank for that.
Chapter Nine
Simon’s Birthday
Daniel soon discovered that when Mollie said she had a plan, what she really meant was I have this kinda general idea of something that should happen, so you go and make it work. Mollie Lee was brave. Mollie Lee was persistent. Mollie Lee was not, however, a detail person.
The first part of the plan was secrecy. Daniel didn’t like lying to Eric and Rohan, but Mollie convinced him that if they found out, Rohan would scold them and Eric might go so far as to try and stop them. As Mollie had said before, those two believed in the Rules and they didn’t hold with anyone breaking them.
So after much debate, Daniel and Mollie decided that the only members of their little conspiracy would be those who needed to know: the two of them, of course, and Simon. Daniel was surprised by Simon’s reaction when they finally clued him in to what they had planned. Far from being grateful for the risk Daniel was about to take, he seemed to resent that Daniel had to be involved at all. He acted as if it were a great inconvenience to have Daniel stay with him on the night before his birthday, and laid down a ridiculous number of rules (Daniel could stay in his room but he wasn’t allowed to touch any of his stuff—that sort of thing). At one point Daniel was ready to call the whole thing off, until Mollie quietly reminded him that they weren’t only doing this for Simon, they were doing it for Eric, too.
Mollie wanted to be i
nvolved, but they decided that she needed to keep a safe distance away. She would camp out in a pup tent in the woods next to Simon’s house (her parents thought that she was sleeping over at Louisa’s). From there, she could keep an eye on Simon’s bedroom window without actually putting herself in jeopardy. Or so they hoped. Daniel argued for Mollie to stay at her own house, far away from any risk, but Mollie stubbornly refused. The pup tent was the best compromise they could come up with.
As for Daniel, he was left with the near-impossible task of packing. On the afternoon before Simon’s thirteenth birthday, Daniel stood in his room staring at the pile of junk that he’d spread out over his bed. After all, what do you pack for guarding a superpowered kid? He’d decided that overkill was his best bet: one flashlight, extra batteries, a two-liter bottle of soda (to help him stay awake), a book of Holmes stories (to help pass the time if nothing happened), a whistle (to call for help if something did happen), a bag of beef jerky, a compass, some rope, an instant camera, his magnifying glass and an extra pair of underwear (just in case).
“I thought you were going to a sleepover. Where’s your friend live, the bottom of a well?”
Daniel was startled by the thin voice from over his shoulder. When he turned around, he was surprised to see Gram standing in the attic doorway.
“Gram? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”
“Oh, pshaw!” she said, making a face. “I’m tired of looking at the same four walls all day long. Need to get my blood moving.”
But Daniel could hear the exhaustion in her voice, the crackle in her lungs that sounded like paper, and he noticed the way she leaned into his door frame for support. The simple trip up the stairs had taken every bit of extra strength she had.
He quickly brushed his pile of junk aside and made a space for her on his bed. “Here, Gram, sit down.”
“Well, don’t mind if I do. Just while I catch my breath.”
She sat down heavily on the edge of his bed. It was a slow process, careful and deliberate. These days she always moved like that, as if she were made of glass in a house full of hard edges.
When she’d settled, she gave a satisfied thump of her cane and gestured toward the gear strewn all over Daniel’s bed.
“So, is this what kids do for fun these days?” She fingered the coil of rope suspiciously. “Planning to tie someone up and force-feed them beef jerky and soda all night long?”
Daniel smiled, but he could feel a tight ball of guilt winding up in his stomach—he didn’t like having to lie to her. Not to Gram.
“It’s just stuff,” he said. “We were thinking about camping out in Simon’s yard.”
Gram’s eyes narrowed as she mulled this over. “Well, you be careful, then. There’s a whole lotta forest around here, and you wouldn’t be the first child to be carried off in the middle of the night by rabid raccoons. They grow big in these parts, you know.”
Daniel laughed. “I’ll be extra careful.”
“By the way, I hear you met little Mollie Lee from across the street. Such a sweetheart. A real cutie, too. Don’t you think?”
At the mention of Mollie, the ball in Daniel’s stomach did a small, unexpected flip. Why was Gram smiling?
“She’s okay,” he said quickly. “For a girl, I mean. She’s fun to hang out with. Actually, she’s more like a boy in a lot of ways….”
Why was it so stuffy in here?
“Well,” continued Gram, “I remember when she was just a chubby little thing in pigtails and frilly dresses. The poor girl’s mother tried for years to dress her like one of those porcelain dolls, but it never looked right on Mollie. She dirtied up more beautiful dresses…. Eventually her parents must’ve just given up.”
Daniel smiled at the thought of Mollie wearing a frilly anything. “Can’t say I blame them,” he said. “When Mollie gets her mind set on something, that’s the end of it.”
“You don’t say? And what’s she got her mind set on these days?”
Another stomach jump. Just what was Gram getting at?
“Nothing. I mean, she’s always on about something or other, but it’s never a big deal. Girl stuff, you know?”
Gram nodded and rested her chin on her hands as she twirled her cane between her fingers. Her bent shape was silhouetted against the attic window, and just over her shoulder Daniel could see the sun drooping low over the trees. In the pink evening glow she looked as she had before the cancer—rosy and full of health.
“I’m glad that you’re making friends, Daniel. I know that coming here couldn’t have been easy on you—a new town, a new school. There’s a lot of grown-up stuff going on here with my being sick and all, but I don’t want you to forget to be a kid—at least for a little while longer.”
Daniel nodded.
“This was my room when I was little,” she continued, her gaze far away. “Did you know that? Oh sure, this house has been around for a long, long time. Much longer than this old lady. I remember staring out that window at Mount Noble for what must have been hours at a time. I’d stare at the clouds and the sky, and the stars at night. You know, as you get older the gray matter starts to fail on you and your memories get all fuzzy—they disappear into mist. I don’t remember much from my childhood, but I do remember staring out that window and dreaming. I bet I had wonderful dreams….”
She reached over and pinched Daniel on the arm. Her eyes looked a little moist, but Daniel couldn’t be sure in the fading light.
“Don’t grow up too fast, Daniel. No matter what else happens, promise me that.”
“I promise, Gram,” he said. “I promise.” And he meant it.
Later that night, Daniel was forced to sit through an awkward dinner with Simon’s family. He basically had to pretend that he and Simon were best buddies, which was nearly impossible to do when Simon was actually around. Throughout the meal, Simon took advantage of every opportunity to make a joke at Daniel’s expense. Daniel had never been a fan of pork chops, and when he didn’t clean his plate, Simon laughingly accused him of “watching his figure for Mollie.” Daniel wanted to tell Simon to shut his fat little face, but since he was sitting at Simon’s dinner table, he was forced to grin and bear it.
After dinner, the two boys were excused from the table and spent the rest of the evening in Simon’s room. Simon was a speed freak (which Daniel thought was ironic, considering that he was an even slower runner than Daniel; his only power seemed to be creating those little electric wisps), and he had decorated his room with NASCAR posters and plastic models of sports cars. There were no books to be found, but plenty of video games—most of which involved racing. Just looking at his room, Daniel was reminded of how little the two of them had in common. They were two members of the same secret club who otherwise wouldn’t give each other the time of day.
Still, for one night at least, they were stuck with each other.
Simon sat at the foot of his bed and untangled a videogame controller from a mass of wires. He started playing some kind of vehicle-demolition game, one in which his car seemed to earn points by repeatedly smashing into an ice cream truck. Daniel watched him play in silence for a few minutes.
“That your high score?” Daniel finally asked, trying to pass the time.
“Yeah,” grunted Simon.
“So, what’s the point of the game? Is there some kind of goal, or is it just about wrecking things or—”
“I’m just beating on Mr. Crazy Cream’s truck to get enough power-ups to get to the next level. And you’re not helping any by talking at me.”
“Well, sorry. But what am I supposed to do all night while you play your game?”
“Not my problem.”
That was it. Daniel was tired of Simon’s smug attitude. If he didn’t care about what happened, why should Daniel? They would find some other way to help Eric.
“You know what? Forget it! Just forget the whole thing! I’m going home.”
“Who cares? You’re not here to help me anyway; it’s Eric you�
�re all worried about.”
Daniel felt a twinge of guilt. He probably should have seen it coming, but the truth was that he had never really considered Simon’s feelings about all this.
“That’s not true,” said Daniel. “Mollie is worried about everybody. Even you.”
“And what about you? Who are you doing this for?”
Daniel hesitated for a second before finally caving. “Fine. I’m doing this for Eric, and for Mollie. But it’s not like you’ve ever even been nice to me. You’re pretty much a jerk to everyone.”
Simon threw his game controller to the ground. “That’s because you’re all such a bunch of losers!”
With that, Daniel picked up his backpack and headed for the door. This kid was unbelievable.
“Happy birthday,” he said without turning around.
Daniel was just opening the door when a sound caught his attention: a sound he recognized but just couldn’t believe he was hearing. Not from Simon, anyway.
He turned and watched as Simon wiped his nose on his sleeve. His face was red and wet with tears. He wasn’t just crying, he was bawling.
“Being … being scared stinks,” he managed between sobs.
“Yeah,” answered Daniel. “Yeah, it really does.”
Daniel stood on the threshold for a moment or two, then slowly shut the door again. He put his backpack down on the floor, walked over and picked up the game controller.
“You got another one of these?” he asked.
A few hours later, they sat together keeping watch out the window. Every fifteen minutes one of them would aim a flashlight into the trees, flicking it on two times. Then Mollie’s own light would shine back at them twice from her little campsite hidden in the woods, to signal that everything was normal. If one of them saw anything suspicious, they would hit the light three times. If there was immediate danger, they would flick the light on and off and keep it blinking until help arrived.
Once Simon’s fear had broken through his bravado, he and Daniel had gotten along fine. Better than fine, actually—they had even managed to have fun. They played video games practically all evening, cracking each other up as they smashed their electronic cars and trucks into one another. They nearly made themselves sick on Daniel’s beef jerky and soda. It turned out that Simon was a master burper and, with the aid of a little carbonation, could burp his way through the alphabet. It was only after Simon’s mom poked her head in the door and informed them that it was bedtime, and therefore time for lights-out, that things got serious again.