The Adventures of a Wimpy Superhero

by Tim Collins

  The van slammed into the front of a department store and the huge glass doors shattered. Two men wearing black masks got out, ran inside and scooped watches and bottles of perfume into bags as a shrill alarm rang.

  There was no one else around. I was face to face with some serious crime and it was time to act. I told my body to rush forward and attack, but for some reason it didn’t move.

  Actually, that’s not quite true. It trembled slightly.

  Soon the men were back inside the van and speeding off. I managed to get a blurry photo of the vehicle as it passed, which was something. A few seconds later, I heard police sirens, so I ran back to my bike and went home. I know I should have stayed and given a description of the criminals to the police, but I didn’t feel like talking to them after they were so rude the other day. I’m going to catch the criminals alone, and the glory will be all mine.

  SATURDAY 23RD JANUARY

  Today I uploaded the picture of the van to my computer and zoomed in. I spent ages making out the licence plate, but then I noticed it looked much cleaner than the rest of the van. This means the thieves must have taken the plates off a car and stuck them on their van. According to what I’ve read online, criminals do this quite often.

  I’ve still got the photo to identify the van with. There’s a dent in the left door, streaks of rust above the back wheels and a crack in the left wing mirror. All I need to do is patrol the streets until I spot the same van and then I can unleash some vigilante vengeance on the baddies.

  Roaming the streets in search of a van might not sound very exciting, but detective work is an important part of superhero life. Proper comic fans will know that Ratman started out in Amazing Detective Monthly before he was given his own series. Even now, he’s sometimes referred to as the ‘world’s greatest detective’.

  His main method of investigation is dangling criminals off the edge of skyscrapers until they admit who they’re working for. And it’s always pretty obvious anyway because the supervillains leave massive clues like playing cards. if he’s the world’s greatest detective, I’m pretty sure I can be in the top ten.

  SUNDAY 24TH JANUARY

  I spent ages patrolling the streets today but I couldn’t see any sign of the van. I found lots of beaten-up ones that looked similar, but when I checked my photo they didn’t match.

  I came back home to puzzle over the crime, but Mum was watching her DVD of Les Misérables with the volume really high and it was too distracting. I need somewhere to go and solve crimes in peace, so I’m going to convert our garage into a Lonercave. Mum and Dad only use it to store their gardening stuff, so they shouldn’t disturb me too much – though I’ll be really annoyed if I’m just about to piece a case together and Mum comes in hunting for her thorn-proof gloves.

  UPDATE

  I just carried my desk and laptop all the way into the garage before realizing the Wi-Fi doesn’t reach that far. There’s no point in having a superhero lair if you can’t keep up with current events. There could be a massive attack on the town and I wouldn’t know because I’d be stuck in there only thinking about crime, rather than trying to combat it.

  When I got my stuff back inside, I looked into hiring a cave, but most of them are in rural areas without much crime, so I’m not really sure why superheroes like them so much. I found a few plots of land that could be hired for gardening, but the Lonerplot doesn’t sound as cool as the Lonercave.

  Forget the Lonercave. I’ll just have to solve crimes here in my bedroom with my fingers pressed in my ears so I can’t hear ‘I Dreamed a Dream’.

  MONDAY 25TH JANUARY

  I wore my costume underneath my school uniform today, so I’d be ready to avenge the criminals if I spotted them. Unfortunately, this made me really hot and by the time I got to school I was dripping with sweat.

  I had two hours of physics this morning and the only free seat was right next to the radiator. I tried taking my jacket off, but my cape had bunched up into a weird shape under my shirt so I kept it on.

  After just a few minutes everyone started teasing me about how much I stank. Mr Singh said I looked unwell and sent me to the school nurse, but I went home instead.

  Superheroes must get quite stinky when you think about it. All that dried sweat, blood and mud would make their costumes reek, and planning your weekly wash must be a nightmare in a city where crime could strike at any time.

  TUESDAY 26TH JANUARY

  I’m really tired today because I got up early to secretly wash my costume. I don’t usually wash my own clothes and it took me ages to work out the right setting. That’s another bit of superhero life they don’t show in the films – you never see a tense scene of a masked crime-fighter trying to work out if Lycra should go on the cottons or delicates setting.

  I was so worried Mum might see my costume that I watched over the machine for the whole time. But by the time the water had drained, she was on her way down for her coffee. I reached for my Lonersnaps and stink bombs to create a distraction, but realized I’d left my utility belt upstairs.

  I flung the wet costume into a wash basket and tried to sneak past her, but she spotted it and sifted it out.

  This was it. I’d have to reveal my secret identity to my parents and put them in great danger. Now it would just be a matter of time until they were bound and gagged in a warehouse and I’d have to choose between rescuing them and a busload of children.

  ‘That’s nice,’ muttered Mum. ‘Did you buy that with your birthday money?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, and went upstairs.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised Mum didn’t work out what’s going on. She knows nothing about young people. For all she’s aware, dressing up as a superhero could be the new hipster fashion.

  WEDNESDAY 27TH JANUARY

  We had to examine iodine solution on a petri dish in chemistry this afternoon, and we were only meant to use one drop, but I put lots on. I’ve noticed that some heroes accidentally give themselves superpowers by pushing the limits of science into dark and forbidden realms it wasn’t meant to go, and I was trying to do the same. Unfortunately, I just ended up with brown goo all over my textbook.

  I was clearing up the mess when I looked out of the window and spotted a white van pulling up at the traffic lights. I knew straight away it was the one I’d been searching for. It had the same dent and the same rust above the wheels.

  I jumped up and dashed for the door. Mr Singh asked me what I was doing and I said I needed to be sick, which everyone seemed to think was hilarious. How typical of my ignorant classmates to mock me when they’re the ones I’m risking my life to protect.

  I made it out to the road just in time to see the van turning left. I ran after it, pushing my body to the limit in the pursuit of justice. After a few hundred metres I got an awful stitch and had to bend over and get my breath back. I knew I should have honed my superfitness.

  Once my vision had stopped swimming, I spotted the van parked outside a hardware store. A bald man walked out of the store, got in the van and drove off. I tried to force myself to run after him, but the stitch came back. The number 17 bus pulled up next to me, so I thought I might as well get it in case the criminals were going the same way.

  The driver made me lift my mask before accepting my pass, and insisted on pulling up at every stop, even if no one was getting on or off. I asked him to speed up because I was pursuing criminals, and he thought that was hilarious. Again, I was mocked by the very citizens I’m trying to help – no wonder other superheroes have to shell out for private transport such as the Ratmobile. If bus drivers would take us a little more seriously, we might be able to use public transport and save the planet as well as the lives of innocent townsfolk.

  The last I saw of the white van, it was turning under the railway bridge into the Raven’s Green area, so at least I know where to continue my search. I’m heading straight down there after school tomorrow to dish out some justice.

  THURSDAY 28TH JANUARY

  I
went back to where I saw the white van this evening. It’s quite a rough area and I started getting nervous as it went dark. I kept imagining someone was going to try and rob my phone. But then I remembered I’m a crime-fighter and that’s exactly the sort of thing I should want to happen now.

  There were quite a few white vans in Raven’s Green and I had to examine them all, which made people twitch their curtains and stare at me. Foolish citizens! I was there to fight crime, not to steal hubcaps.

  I finally spotted the van in the driveway of a house with an overgrown garden containing a couch and a mattress. Paint was flaking off the window frames and the drains were wonky. They clearly hadn’t spent the proceeds of the robbery on home improvement.

  So this was it. I’d found my enemies. Now it was time to change into my costume and open up a can of whoopass.

  The curtain shuffled open and I saw the bald-headed man glaring out at me. I thought he looked like he’d be quite good at fighting. Then I remembered a really important fact. I’m not very good at it.

  I beat Henry in a fight once, but I did that mostly through tickling, and I doubted I’d be able to use the same tactic here.

  On reflection, I decided it would be better to leave the whoopass in the can and run home.

  Now I feel really ashamed. Maybe I should change my name to Captain Coward and admit that my special powers are running away, hiding and quaking.

  FRIDAY 29TH JANUARY

  I’m feeling better now because I’ve realized I can still prevent crime without resorting to violence. All I need to do is stake out the villains, wait until they commit another crime, film it on my phone and send it to the police.

  I suppose technically that makes me a snitch rather than a hero, but I’ll still have a costume and I’ll still be combating crime, and that’s good enough for me.

  And there are lots of worse superheroes, anyway. There was Skate Girl, for example. she lasted just three issues back in 1983. She had a pair of roller skates built into her costume. If any of her foes went up stairs she’d have to search for an elevator or go home.

  Then there was The Hearing Aid, who had super-sensitive ears and lived in the middle of New York. His catchphrase was ‘Please kill me’.

  Worst of all was Time Warp, a superhero who could travel back in time, but only by three minutes. Whenever he turned up to fight a villain, he’d be greeted by a future version of himself telling him what he’d just done wrong. It made the whole comic a real downer.

  Compared to that lot, I’ll still be a decent hero.

  SATURDAY 30TH JANUARY

  Woah. That was a weird day.

  This morning I told my parents I was going to a comic convention, when instead I went to stake out the criminal’s house. I wore my costume, but put my big winter jacket over the top so I wouldn’t attract attention.

  I sat on a bench opposite the house and wondered if I’d turned up too early. Criminals do most of their misdeeds at night, so they probably spend most of the day asleep.

  I played on my phone until the battery ran out and then stared at the dark house. Being a superhero involves much more waiting than you’d expect. It’s just as well they leave those bits out of the comics.

  It started drizzling in the afternoon and I was about to give up and go home when something dramatic actually happened. The bald man stepped out, got in the van and drove off. I was convinced he was off to commit another robbery, so I chased after him. I tried to shout, ‘Fighting crime is a lonely business, but someone has to do it,’ but it was too difficult while running. I should probably come up with a shorter catchphrase like ‘shazam’ or ‘excelsior’.

  I was focusing so much on the robber’s van I didn’t pay any attention to the black one that pulled up just ahead of me. As I drew level with it, the back doors opened and a man wearing an army uniform and a balaclava reached out and scooped me up by my underarms. He hurled me onto the metal floor inside his van, Knocking the wind out of me.

  I was too shocked to understand what was going on. One second my feet were pounding the ground, the next I was lying on a cold floor between two wooden benches.

  The man threw a cloth sack over my head and tied it tight around my waist with rope. I heard him clamber into the front seat and the van sped away.

  How stupid of me – I should have guessed the criminals wouldn’t be acting alone. Of course they’d have guards.

  I tried to make my mouth say, ‘Tell your friends to cease their robberies or you’ll get a taste of justice’. But it said, ‘Please don’t kill me. I promise I won’t tell anyone about the robberies.’

  Trying to forget my brief lull in heroism, I managed to wrestle one of my hands under the rope and grabbed my utility belt. I unhooked one of the Lonersnaps and threw it against the side of the van. I was hoping the noise might startle the guard and make him crash, but you couldn’t really hear it over the engine.

  I tried throwing one of my stink bombs, but it didn’t have much effect either. The van was already quite smelly.

  Finally, I found my Lonerscissors, unhooked them from their loop, lifted them to the rope and tried to snip it. Then I remembered I’d used them to cut thick cardboard when I was making my Ratman diorama last year. They couldn’t even get through weak string now, never mind tough rope.

  It was no use. I’d have to rely on my combat skills to get me out of the crisis.

  The van pulled to a halt and I heard the doors open.

  ‘Help!’ I shouted. ‘Kidnap!’

  The man untied the rope and pulled off the sack. We were inside a spacious garage with bare breeze block walls. The man opened a door and beckoned me through.

  ‘Please let me go,’ I said. ‘I won’t tell anyone about your crimes.’

  ‘I don’t commit crimes,’ he said. ‘I fight them. And I think you do too. That’s why I want to talk to you.’

  I noticed the man’s camouflage jacket had the words ‘Army Dan’ sewn on it.

  ‘Are you a superhero too?’ I asked.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said. ‘superheroes are for movies and comic books. I’m a costumed vigilante.’

  It sounded good enough to me. I clambered out of the Van and followed him through the door.

  I emerged in a dark room surrounded by red and green flickering dots. spotlights blinked on to reveal three leather couches in the middle of the room and three long metal desks covered in laptops, hard drives and monitors running along the walls.

  The man nodded at one of the seats and I sat down.

  ‘So you’re The Loser, are you?’ he asked, perching on the arm of the opposite couch. ‘Why do you want to fight crime?’

  ‘The Loner,’ I said. ‘It was a spelling mistake. And I want to fight crime because I think it’s wrong.’

  ‘It’s worse than wrong,’ he said. ‘It’s evil. It’s pernicious. It’s a cancer.’

  He whipped off his balaclava to reveal his red, scowling face. The veins on his temple were bulging and his eyes were wide.

  ‘I think that too,’ I said. I tried to work myself up to be as angry as him. ‘I think crime is as bad as smudging a page of a limited edition comic because you read it too soon after eating chocolate. I think it’s as bad as borrowing someone’s Steel Guy action figure and returning it without the accessories. I think it’s as bad as the 1960s Ratman TV series which failed to respect the source material.’

  ‘I’m Army Dan,’ he said. ‘I’m fighting a war against criminals because the government are too soft to do anything about them.’ He pressed his fingers to his temples and rubbed them. ‘The streets are my battleground and knowledge is my weapon. As well as actual weapons. What about you?’

  ‘I’m The Loner,’ I said. ‘And I work by myself. Fighting crime is a lonely job, but someone’s got to do it, that’s what I always say.’

  ‘So you wouldn’t be interested in joining our costumed vigilante league, then?’ he asked.

  ‘On the other hand, I don’t have to work by myself, I said
. ‘Fighting crime doesn’t have to be a lonely job, that’s what I always say.’

  SUNDAY 31ST JANUARY

  It took me ages to convince Dan I hated crime as much as him. He asked me lots of questions about what sort of punishments criminals should get. I started off with sensible ones like community service and fines, but he wasn’t impressed. It was only when I said that anyone who ever broke the law should be given the electric chair that he looked satisfied.

  I hope he doesn’t find out about the time Henry and I attacked that man with the false leg. We’d both have to be publicly executed under this new system.

  ‘I can see you hate crime just as much as I do,’ he said, slapping his hand on my shoulder. ‘And there are others in this town who feel the same. But we can’t have costumed vigilantes running around willy-nilly in broad daylight. The only way we can defeat crime is to join forces. Criminals have got discipline and co-ordination and we need it too.’

  Dan said thinking about crime had made him so angry that he had to go to use his personal gym, so I had to leave. But I’m going back on Tuesday to attend my first meeting of The East Dudchester League of Costumed Vigilantes (incorporating The Central Region Masked Crime-Fighters Society). It’s not a very catchy name, but Dan says it took them ages to agree on it, so I didn’t criticize it.

  Dan has been staking out the robbers for weeks now and reckons they’re planning another big raid next weekend. He stopped me from running after them because he doesn’t want them to know anyone’s onto them. Now I see what he means about joining forces. On my own, I would only have recorded them committing a crime and passed my evidence on to the police. But now I’m in a team, I can hand out some proper vigilante justice.