“You’re free to do all that”—Miss Marble nodded—“as long as you don’t upset anyone in the process or challenge any of their beliefs.”
“In a democrathy, the majority dethideth what’th right,” Melonhead splattered. “Ithn’t that tho, Mith Marble?”
“Sadly, you appear to be correct.” She sighed as the final shred of her good mood evaporated.
“But what if they’re wrong?” I added meekly, already feeling beaten.
“Tho let’th thettle thith the democratic way by cathting voteth,” Melonhead proposed. “Whoever thinkth our powerth are an intheperable part of who we are, raithe your hand!”
I didn’t even need to look to know that every hand had shot up. The only stab of pain came as I realized that all my teammates had raised theirs as well. But then I got a shock. In the back row I saw that Lobster Boy had kept his hand down. In fact he still had both of his claws shoved in his lap. His head was no longer slumped on his desk, though. Now it was raised in alarm. Cannonball noticed the same time I did.
“Put your hand up, shell brain,” he threatened as he grabbed Lobster Boy’s arm and forced it into the air.
It was pretty hard to miss the oven mitt that he was wearing over his claw. Cannonball was taken aback by it at first, too, but then, with a nasty sneer on his face, he yanked off the big poofy glove to reveal a perfectly ordinary, absolutely human . . . hand.
LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK
PEOPLE
NAME: Lobster Boy. POWER: Two fully manipulable pinchers in place of hands. LIMITATIONS: He’ll never play the piano well. CAREER: A deathly fear of drawn butter rules out any future in the restaurant business. CLASSIFICATION: May just claw his way to the top yet.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
. . . and Effects
My own questions about the origin of power were quickly overshadowed by the shock surrounding the transformation of Lobster Boy into . . . well . . . Hand Boy. But as Miss Marble hustled Lobster Boy off to the school nurse and sent the rest of us out for an early recess, my friends caught up to me.
“What were you thinking?” Tadpole asked as we followed our classmates from the room. “Are you determined to enrage every kid in our class with that where-do-powers-come-from bit?”
“For a while there I thought we were going to have to rescue you,” Stench added.
“Yeah,” agreed Plasma Girl, “what was all that stuff you were talking about?”
“My power is . . . well . . . my power,” Halogen Boy said in almost a whisper as he struggled to verbalize his feelings.
By this time, I realized how upset people could get over the mere suggestion that something so key to their identity might actually just be a side effect of something else.
“Hal,” I responded as we paused in the hallway, “you’re special because of who you are. Your power is just one aspect out of millions that make you the unique person that you are.”
“But it’s the most important—” Tadpole started to say before catching himself. He glanced at me guiltily.
“Look, no one knows better than I do what it’s like having no power.”
“Lobster Boy is going to get a chance to find out,” Tadpole said in a way I think he meant to sound supportive but didn’t.
“Yeah,” asked Stench, “what could have caused such an effect?”
“Exactly!” I said as I seized on what he had said. “Cause and effect. Nothing happens without something causing it to happen.”
“What do you mean?” Plasma Girl questioned me suspiciously.
“Take flowers for instance,” I replied. “No one would say they’re not special. But they exist because the rain falls and the sun shines on them. Take either away, and you’d have no flowers.”
I could tell by the expressions on their faces that they were beginning to get my point.
“Or just look at the ocean’s tides,” I said. “The waves look like they’re just happening on their own, but they’re really not. The gravity of the moon is tugging at the sea and causing the waves to wash back and forth. Without the moon, the ocean would sit practically still.”
“I think I see what you mean.” Plasma Girl nodded.
“Something causes everything! Your power is no different,” I added, coming back to my original point. “That doesn’t mean that it’s not incredibly special and important to who you are.”
“I guess that’s true,” Halogen Boy agreed as he brightened considerably.
“And even without a power, you’re pretty special, too,” Plasma Girl said as she placed a hand on my shoulder.
I blushed beet red, just as Tadpole and Stench’s howling laughter echoed through the empty hallway.
“You are special, O Boy!” Tadpole mocked in a bad imitation of Plasma Girl as even Hal joined in the laughter.
“Shut up,” Plasma Girl said as she punched Tadpole in the arm.
That just set them laughing harder, and I slumped my shoulders in embarrassment.
“What is wrong with boys, anyway?” she huffed as she stalked ahead of us and pushed open the school’s front door. My friends’ laughter quickly faded as we noticed the rest of our classmates standing outside as still as statues. At first I thought Miss Marble had returned and used her power on them. Then I noticed what had them so transfixed.
“Oh, my gosh!” Plasma Girl exclaimed. “What is going on out here?!”
There were animals everywhere. There were grizzlies slashing our school bus’s tires; snakes slithering up the flagpole; and, yes, even monkeys on the monkey bars. At first I thought they were fighting with each other. But then I realized they were actually locked in battle with—
“It’s the League of Ultimate Goodness!” Tadpole blurted out in amazement.
It was true! The entire league was spread out across our school yard, engaged in a titanic struggle with hordes of zoo creatures.
“These animals ambushed us,” the Crimson Creampuff hollered as he came running straight for us. “Get to safety, kids!”
Apparently he was trying to follow his own advice. But before he could find a place to hide, a rhinoceros that was barreling after him hoisted him into the air and began spinning the spongy superhero on the tip of his horn like a giant basketball.
There were LUGs everywhere, but they seemed to be exceeding even their high standards of incompetence. Featherweight was drifting back and forth between two playful mountain lions, who were intrigued by his feathery, birdlike costume. Moleman was buried in the ground to his waist while a family of squirrels used their tails like slingshots to pelt him with nuts. And then I spotted Cap’n Blowhole, who was facing off against a polar bear.
“Arrrgghh, matey!” he gloated as a plume of water shot out of his head, “we’ll be seein’ if yer any match fer the cap’n.”
The polar bear answered the challenge by rearing up on his hind legs and letting out a freezing blast of breath. Cap’n Blowhole’s water spout froze solid instantly.
“Sh-sh-sh-shiver me timbers,” he cried in alarm as the suddenly top-heavy weight of his ice plume tipped him over headfirst.
In the midst of the fracas, a figure descended from the sky, shouting advice to the bewildered group of heroes. It was the Amazing Indestructo.
As he cut the power on his jet pack, I assumed he was going to join the battle against the zoo animals. Instead, he moved over to relative safety near me and my classmates.
“Look, it’s AI!” the Banshee screamed in a way that no one could miss, including AI himself.
“Sheeesh!” he said with a cringe as he covered his ears. “Can’t you see I’m trying to oversee this important battle?”
“Maybe you should actually be out there helping for a change,” I said as I stepped up alongside him.
The Amazing Indestructo’s eyes narrowed in annoyance as he turned and saw me.
“Oh, it’s you.” He sniffed dismissively. “Maybe you should just step back with the rest of the children where you won’t be in the way.”
“But the safest spot in any battle is usually right next to you,” I countered.
“Suit yourself,” he said as his face flushed red. “I have to concentrate on bringing this scourge of super-powered animals to an end.”
As he returned to doing nothing, I focused on the battle before us. Spaghetti Man was shooting strands of pasta from his fingertips in an attempt to immobilize the spindly legs of a giraffe. Of course the giraffe broke through them instantly and then proceeded to stretch its neck a good twenty feet, wrapping it around Spaghetti Man like a boa constrictor.
“Hellllp!!” he cried. “This-a giraffe . . . her neck is like-a linguini!”
LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK
PEOPLE
NAME: Spaghetti Man. POWER: An ability to fire strands of wet spaghetti from his fingertips. LIMITATIONS: The sauce has to be prepared the traditional way. CAREER: Despite the obvious career one would have expected, given his family’s pasta business, Spaghetti Man turned to a life of crime fighting, eventually joining the League of Ultimate Goodness. CLASSIFICATION: As dangerous to criminals as a wet noodle.
“I see the league is performing at their usual level of efficiency,” I commented to the Amazing Indestructo.
“Just give ’em a chance . . .” he started to say, and then fell silent.
I followed his eyes to where they had focused on an elephant across the playground. It had just begun to charge toward us.
“Uh-oh,” I agreed, as at the exact same moment the school bell rang and kids from all the other classes came rushing out for the morning recess. “You’ve got to do something.”
“Are you kidding?” AI blurted out. “Look at the size of that thing. I’m getting out of here.”
“You’re indestructible!” I screamed back at him. “Act like it for a change.”
He was about to start up his jet pack, but I reached over and yanked out one of its power cables.
“Hey!” he yelled. “What are you trying to do?”
“You’re not going to run out on your fans, are you? It’s going to really hurt your sales if anything happens to a group of kids while you stand by,” I pointed out as both he and I noticed the rampaging elephant getting closer and closer.
The Human Compass was right in its path but then darted off to the north. Major Bummer, who sat nearby with his head slumped while a pack of hyenas ridiculed him, simply got up and walked in the opposite direction. Whistlin’ Dixie managed to get her lasso around one of the elephant’s tusks, but she was no match for an animal that size, and her rope was yanked right out of her hands. That left only the Amazing Indestructo, who, realizing he had no choice, decided to make the most of the situation.
“Step back kids,” he boomed in his best TV hero voice. “The Amazing Indestructo is here to save the day.”
As the kids let out a cheer, he barreled straight at the charging beast. It didn’t take long for AI to notice with horror that the elephant had suddenly sprouted a second set of tusks. And then a third. And then a fourth, fifth, and sixth. I could only imagine the horror in the Amazing Indestructo’s eyes. But it was too late for him to do anything now.
Like the thundering sound of a dozen cannons, the indestructible hero and the unstoppable force collided. When the dust finally cleared, none of us could believe what we saw. The multitusked elephant had been knocked back on its rear and looked a little dazed. But crumpled in a heap in front of him was the Amazing Indestructo. He was practically pulverized.
“Ow . . .” was the one solitary word that emerged softly from his contorted lips.
We all held our collective breath as Whistlin’ Dixie ran to his aid.
“Tarnation! Someone git some help,” she hollered in a panic. “The Amazing Indestructo’s been—” the very impossibility of the word caught in her voice “—hurt!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Faded Genes
It wasn’t hard to guess what was going to be on the front page of the newspaper on Saturday morning. I retrieved our copy of the Superopolis Times from the front porch and there, front and center, was one of the largest headlines I’d ever seen: AI INJURED!!!! And yes, it had four exclamation points. Below, in slightly smaller type, it asked the question: INDESTRUCTIBLE NO MORE?? Here they used only two question marks. I brought it into the kitchen where Mom and Dad were preparing breakfast.
“I can’t believe it,” my dad said as he read the headline over my shoulder. “How could someone who’s indestructible be hurt by anything?”
Dad had a frying pan resting on his palm and was busy scrambling eggs. My mom was setting out milk, orange juice, and a bowl of AI’s Maple Glazed Pseudo-Chips. I sampled one of them. It was as disgusting as you might imagine.
“If he were still around, I might think that Professor Brain-Drain was somehow responsible for this,” Mom said as she focused her gaze on my glass of milk to get it extra cold. “But clearly he isn’t.”
“Thanks to our little hero,” my dad said proudly as he gave me a mock punch in the arm.
Instinctively, I recoiled. Not because Dad had hit me too hard, but rather to keep from getting an imprint of his superhot hand on my skin. Oddly, his fist was only lukewarm at best. I probably wouldn’t have thought anything more about it, except Dad brought over the frying pan and proceeded to scrape a portion of half-cooked, curdled-looking eggs onto my plate.
“Dad, are you okay?” I asked. My mom was suddenly concerned as well.
“Thermo, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing is wrong,” he replied, obviously agitated. “Everything is just fine.”
For about thirty seconds he succeeded in maintaining his facade of confidence—then he broke down and began blubbering into his hands.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” he sobbed as only a mild hint of steam was given off. “Ever since I woke up, I haven’t been able to generate anything other than a mild heat. What’s happening to me?! Oh, and we also got fired as the spokesteam for Maximizer Brand Snack Cakes.”
“There, there, dear,” she attempted to calm him. “Everything will be— Wait, you also got fired?”
I nodded encouragingly to my dad to fess up as I picked up my glass of milk. I hadn’t taken more than a sip before my blood ran cold—for the simple reason that my milk was anything but cold.
“Mom?” I asked nervously as I set the glass back down. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m just fine,” she snapped back a little peevishly. “See?”
She took a hard stare at my orange juice, I think in an attempt to freeze it solid. But nothing happened. In desperation, she tried again—and failed again. Her face betrayed a number of emotions all at once—fear, frustration, worry—and then her natural calm took control.
“Whatever has affected the Amazing Indestructo is clearly affecting us as well,” she admitted. “With or without powers, it’s up to us to figure out the cause.”
The cause! Of course! Something had to be causing this loss of power that had hit Mayor Whitewash, Lobster Boy, AI, and now my parents. What had changed over the last week that could possibly be behind this? Then I looked at the bowl of chips, and the Red Menace’s threat came back to me. He had said he was going to make everybody equal. Taking away their powers would certainly accomplish that, but could his PseudoChips really do that?
“Mom, Dad! Maybe it’s the chips!” I blurted out.
“What do you mean, OB?” my mom asked.
“Well,” I said. “They are the only thing that’s changed in our day-to-day routine. Maybe they’re responsible for your power loss!”
“That’s ridiculous,” my mom said defensively. “How could potato chips do something like that?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, “but nothing else makes sense. I think you should stop eating them.”
“Don’t be silly.” My mom laughed. “Just because you don’t like them is no reason to scare us away from them.”
“I can’t lose my power and my Pseudo-Chips in the same day,�
� my dad said, sniffling. “I just couldn’t handle it.”
“You won’t need to, dear,” my mom said confidently as she stood up. “We’re going to figure out the real cause of this mystery. It’s time to gather up the New—” she paused only momentarily, and with only a hint of a cringe “—New Crusaders.”
“It’ll be just like old times,” Dad said with a wide grin. “Thermo and Snowflake, together again on the job.”
While my parents planned their new mission, I remained at the table, my own concern undiminished. My parents were still under the control of the Red Menace, so I was going to have to find someone who wasn’t. I was going to need the Junior Leaguers.
I called everyone to announce an unscheduled emergency meeting and then practically ran to Stench’s house. I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even notice the wire that had been pulled tight between two particularly close piles of tires in his dad’s junkyard. I fell right into Fuzz Boy’s trap. Zippy appeared out of nowhere, grabbed my legs, and pinned them to the ground. Fuzz Boy was on me a second later, pulling back each of my arms and kneeling on them, leaving me totally immobile.
“We set this trap to catch some of these freaky animals,” Fuzz Boy sneered. “But you’ll do fine instead.”
“Do something really funny, Fuzz,” Zippy said with a crazy grin on his face, “like growing hair in his ears.”
“I think what O Boy here is going to need when I’m done with him is an all-over shave,” Fuzz Boy said menacingly. “And we’ll start with a really long beard.”
As much as I struggled, I was no match for the two fourteen-year-olds, and Fuzz Boy cupped his hands around my cheeks and chin. I felt a tickle as the beard began to grow, but then I sensed some irritation on Fuzz Boy’s part.
“What’s the matter?” Zippy asked. “That’s not much of a beard.”
“Give me a second,” Fuzz Boy said in obvious annoyance. “I’m working on it.”
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