by Lenore Look
Uncle Dennis’s hand reached for the chain around his neck.
I gasped again.
“Forget … the … equipment,” his words floated out between dreams. “This is … all you … need.” His BATMAN RING dropped from his chain into my hand!
I was speechless. I slipped the black rubbery Batman ring on my finger. It fit perfectly!
“You gotta … be like … Batman,” spilled Uncle Dennis. “You gotta … believe … in your own … secret Batpowers.”
I nodded. It was all I could do. My uncle Dennis is really amazing. This proved, once and for all, that he was the real thing. A genuine, indestructible, top-secret secret agent.
And now I had his secret weapon.
this is what happens when you wear a Batman ring:
You can fly like a bat, turning left out of the Batschool, and be the first on the playground for recess.
You can hang upside down on the monkey bars forever.
You can see in the dark.
You can emit sonar waves.
But you still can’t pay attention in class. In fact, it’s even harder than ever to concentrate. You just keep thinking about all the fantastic things you can do now that you’re wearing a Batman ring.
It was reading class. Reading class is better than writing class, but it still takes a lot of concentration. Everyone takes turns reading, which means you have to move your finger right along the words and not lose your place. This is hard to do.
It is even harder to do when you’re a bat and your fingers are all webbed together.
The other problem with reading when you’re a bat is your eyes. Bat eyes are very good for reading in the dark, but they are horrible at reading in the light. No matter how hard you squint, your beady eyes might as well be a couple of useless marbles in your head. The only thing that still works for a bat in reading class is his ears.
“Alvin?”
I twisted my Batman ring.
It was Miss P. She is very nice, but she has a habit of calling on you when you least expect it. “It’s your turn, honey”
Honey? My bat fur melted a little. My toes loosened from the bar under my chair. I swung in the breeze.
I can’t read out loud in class. My voice doesn’t work. But Miss P calls on me anyway, just to be fair. She is very nice. Especially when she calls me honey.
The hand on the clock clicked tick, tick, tick.
Somewhere a bat wing went tap, tap, tap.
Miss P waited patiently. Then she moved on.
“Fauntleroy?” Miss P called on Pinky. That is his real name. It’s not the best name in the world, but it’s all he’s got, besides Pinky.
Pinky is not a great reader, but normally he reads okay.
But today, Pinky was not normal.
He shifted his beady eyes. He showed his vampire teeth.
Silence.
“Sam?” called Miss P.
Silence.
“Eli?
“What’s going on with the boys today?” asked Miss P. “All the girls have read wonderfully, but you boys are acting very strange.”
“They’re bats,” said Flea, who was sitting next to me. She sees more things out of her one good eye than most people see out of two.
“Bats?” said Miss Flea. “You mean they’re pretending to be bats?”
“No, Miss P,” said Flea. “I mean they’re real bats.”
“Oh.”
“And bats can’t read in the light,” Flea added, matter-of-factly “Their eyes don’t work that way. They can only read in the dark.”
“It all started with Alvin’s ring,” said Sara Jane. “Then all the boys made rings like it in art class.”
“Oh?” Miss P looked over at the clay rings pinched on the boys’ fingers. Then she strolled over to my desk.
I kept my eyes low. I kept my hands in plain sight. When you are wearing bling, it is important to act as normal as possible.
Miss P’s eyes fell on my hand. She gasped. “A Batman ring! I haven’t seen one since I was about your age.
“Mine had a special secret power that melted evil villains on the spot,” she added.
“My ring can melt UFOs,” said Scooter.
“And my ring can melt monsters,” said Nhia.
“My ring can melt the principal!” blurted Hobson.
Oops.
“Why don’t we put the rings away for safekeeping?” said Miss P. “You can have them back at the end of the day.” Before we knew it, all our bat rings were in her desk, including my one-and-only true, genuine, authentic, real Batman ring that started it all.
I twisted a phantom ring on my finger. It felt terrible.
My mom says that it is Miss P’s first year of teaching and that I should always be on my best behavior on account of Miss P might not know what to do if I am not, but she knew what to do with my Batman ring, that’s for sure.
School was no fun after that.
“It’s a good idea to keep our valuables at home,” said Miss P when I finally went to her desk to pick up my Batman ring at the end of the day. “You wouldn’t want to lose something like that. You’ll need it to protect yourself from much scarier things than school.”
Much scarier things than school?
What could be much scarier than school?
I scratched my side.
Then I scratched the back of my neck.
Then I remembered.
this is how to know you’re going to die. It is a sure sign.
Your mom cooks your favorite meal.
“Vegetable wonton and noodles, just for you,” said my mom, who is really super-duper. She can smile and talk and cook at the same time and not spill anything, just like the people on cooking shows.
Normally, I would run around the house like crazy in my Firecracker Man outfit and scream at the top of my lungs for vegetable wonton and noodles. The whole house gets steamy and smells like a wonton factory and there is a big, marvelous mess all over the kitchen.
But this was not normal. We were leaving for our camping trip in the morning. This was my Last Supper! It happened to Jesus and the gang in the Bible and now it was happening to me.
And after one eats one’s Last Supper, there really isn’t much left to do but—gulp—die. But since I had some time before that happened, Calvin said that I could write my Last Will and Testament, to make sure that my belongings go to the right people after I am gone.
So right before bed, and with a little help from Calvin, I wrote in my best handwriting:
I hadn’t finished yet when Calvin interrupted.
“That’s not a very good Last Will and Testament,” said Calvin. He was reading over my shoulder.
“Why not?”
“Because I’d rather have your Batman ring,” said Calvin.
“No way,” I said. “I’m taking that with me.”
I twisted the beautiful ring on my finger. I know Calvin’s been eyeing my ring and wishing it were his. But it’s not. It’s mine. And at night, I always have to make sure that Calvin is in stage four deep sleep, with no eye movement or muscle activity, before I close my eyes, just in case.
“Fine, I don’t really want it anyway,” said Calvin.
But he did. I knew he wanted it real bad.
So I kept an eye on him until his eyes closed and his snoring began. If there is anything good about Calvin, it is this: He can never beat me in staying up late. I am often up with my flashlight, reading or making lists, because I’m afraid of the dark. But not Calvin. Calvin falls asleep just like that.
I watched his blanket go up and down.
Then I finished my Last Will and Testament:
I closed my eyes.
I thought of my mom.
I smelled her hair.
I hugged her neck.
I pressed my face against hers.
Then I cried myself to sleep.
my dad is a great packer-upper. He packed Louise, his wasabi-green car, in no time.
It is one of hi
s talents.
But it is not one of mine. I wasn’t packed at all.
“Son,” said my dad. Usually, I like it when he calls me that. But this was not usual. It was the scariest morning of my life!
“It’s time to go,” said my dad.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was a won-ton in a wrapper.
But Anibelly wasn’t. She was up and about and wide awake. She had on her Thunder Bunny backpack.
“Alvin isn’t packed! Alvin isn’t packed!” she squealed, hopping up and down and doing a little dance. “But I am!” she cried. “I’m packed!”
Anibelly took off her backpack. She unzipped it. Thunder Bunny underwear fell out, and inside were a toothbrush, pieces of soap, Old Maid cards, a first-aid kit, a roll of toilet paper and a bunch of my supplies that came in Next Day Delivery. Hanging from the outside of the bag was a strange device.
“What’s this?” asked my dad, inspecting the gadget.
“An eleven-in-one,” said Anibelly.
“A what?”
“A mirror, fork, knife, spoon, thermometer, compass, whistle, flashlight, magnifying glass, hairbrush and weapon!” Anibelly said proudly. “I made it all by myself!”
She had tied everything around one of my carved sticks, which looked like it was the weapon.
“Uncle Dennis told me about ’em,” said Anibelly. “Secret Trick Number Two Hundred and Eighty-four!” “That’s fantastic!” said my dad, turning the thing around in his hands.
“So can I come too?” she asked.
My dad looked at Anibelly. Then he got down on his knees. “Sweetheart,” he said, taking ahold of Anibelly’s hand. “I promised Alvin that this would be a special time just with him.”
The corners of Anibelly’s lips wilted.
“But he’s scared of camping!” Anibelly blurted. “He doesn’t want to go. Take me instead!”
Why didn’t I think of that? If Anibelly went, I wouldn’t have to!
My dad blinked. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” he said slowly. “Why don’t we plan on taking you next year, when you’re … bigger?”
“I may be little, but I’m Anibelly Ho, Ready to Go!” said Anibelly She stuck out her Hokey Pokey toe.
When it comes to Anibelly, my dad is squishy mochi cake. So I held my breath and shut my eyes and wished with all my might that Anibelly would get to go and I would get to stay home.
“Let’s ask Alvin and see what he thinks,” my dad said. “Alvin?”
“If you take her instead of me, you’ll have a better time, Dad!” I blurted.
My dad looked over the tops of his glasses at me. He scratched his quillery cheek, then rubbed his quillery chin. It was not a good sign.
I had a sinking feeling.
“Well …,” said my dad. “If you really want to rough it in the woods, Anibelly, and you’re packed, then of course you can come. You don’t take up much room in the car … and we can squeeze you into our tent. We’d love to have you along.”
Gulp.
“ We would?” I asked. “You mean I’m going too?”
Packing like a maniac in three minutes flat was not a good idea.
I’m sure I forgot a bunch of stuff.
“It’s only the Berkshires,” said my dad. “We’re not doing the Himalayas.”
“Are you going to be okay, sweetheart?” asked my mom.
I breathed heavily through my N95 mask. I was not okay.
But I climbed into the car with Anibelly Maybe it was a good thing Anibelly was coming along. She’s not much, but she always makes me feel less scared. I don’t know how she does it. Besides, having a buddy along for the buddy system is always a good idea. She might come in handy as an extra person to stand between me and the bears.
The bad thing about having Anibelly along was this: She doesn’t take up much room in the car, she takes up ALL the room in the car. She may be little, but her car seat is HUGE. So there was hardly any room left for me!
The second bad thing about having Anibelly along was this: She sings.
“Lalalalalalalalalala,” she sang as we drove out of civilization and into the wilderness. “Lalalalalalalalalalalalala.”
It should have been a time of dread and planning ahead for disaster. But instead, it was a time of singing.
“Wanna learn a campfire song?” asked my dad. “It’s one that we used to sing around the fires when the earth was still cooling.”
“Yes!” cried Anibelly, kicking her legs.
“Okay, here it goes,” said my dad. He sang:
“Let me tell you a story of a Scout named
Anibelly.
On that tragic and fateful day,
Put her Scout knife in her pocket;
Kissed her dog and family;
Went to hike in the woods far away.
Well, did she ever return?
No, she never returned.”
“Lalalalalalalalala,” sang Anibelly.
And her fate is still unlearned.
She may roam forever in the woods and
mountains—
She’s the Scout who never returned.”
“Lalalalalalalala,” sang Anibelly.
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” I cried as they sang. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.”
“It’s just a song, son,” said my dad, looking at me in the mirror. “It’s not for real, it’s for fun.”
I nodded. I sniffed. I felt carsick.
My dad continued:
“Now, you citizens of Concord,
“Don’t you think it’s a scandal,
How ol’ Anibelly got lost that day?
Take the right equipment;
TAKE ALONG A BUDDY,
When you hike in the hills that way.
Or else you’ll never return,
No, you’ll never return.
And your fate will be unlearned …Anibelly.
You may roam forever in the woods and
mountains,
Like the Scout who never returned.”
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I groaned as we drove closer and closer to the place of bears and rain and wild things, where flashlights don’t work and matches won’t strike, and from where— gulp—Scouts never return, which means they don’t come back—dead or alive!
Fortunately, my dad didn’t know any more words to the song and Anibelly soon fell asleep. It is one of her main talents, next to singing and to digging holes in the yard with my sticks. Anibelly can fall asleep just like that.
Anibelly has all the luck. If I could have closed my eyes and not seen where we were going, I would have. But my eyes were stuck wide open just like binoculars.
It was quiet except for the sound of Louise charging full speed ahead.
I turned my Batman ring.
I looked out the window.
We were going so fast, the road beneath us didn’t look like a road at all, it looked like the TV screen between channels. I felt thunder in my stomach and a rock in my shoe.
So I looked up. In the distance, the sky had turned a greenish blue with swirly clouds. The hillsides had a certain glow.
I recognized it:
“Tornadoes,” I whispered. But no sound came out of my mouth.
this is how to know you are in trouble:
It smells like earthworms.
Rain grenades explode on your car.
Lightning splits the sky.
Thunder rumbles like a gigantic stomach.
Hubcaps roll by without cars.
This is how to know you are in grave danger:
Anibelly wakes up.
Then … “We interrupt this program for an emergency weather report….” Ssssssssssssssssssssss.
There is only static on your radio.
And a chicken by the side of the road, being de-feathered by the wind.
“Hang on, kids,” my dad screamed over the roar outside. He pulled over and turned off the engine.
Crrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! Ever
ything turned baseball white.
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmm, rolled the thunder.
“Looks like a very bad thunderstorm,” said my dad.
Thunderstorm? Traveling in a thunderstorm is extremely dangerous. The safest place is in a car, but we weren’t safe at all, anyone could see that.
If we didn’t get electrocuted, we could get drowned!
It was pouring like a faucet!
I turned my Batman ring.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt! Lightning zapped the road in front of us.
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmm, the thunder rolled again.
So I turned my Batman ring again.
This time, lightning flashed in the distance and the thunder rolled farther away.
I turned my Batman ring one more time … and held my breath.
Soon the rain felt like drops from a lawn sprinkler.
“Is it over?” I asked.
“Maybe,” said my dad. “Or maybe this is just the eye of the storm, where it’s quiet before it starts again.”
Eye of the storm? What could be creepier than that?
I turned my Batman ring like crazy.
My dad started the car.
My Batman ring had the secret power to make lightning and thunder go away.
Wow.
And now it was helping us get away from the creepy eye of the storm. Whatever that was.
By the time we got to the camping place, everything was very calm. The sun was shining. Louise rolled right into the parking lot. And we walked right onto our campsite. It smelled like a million pine trees.
“Setting up camp is the first order of business,” said my dad. “Then we’ll go on our first hike. How does that sound, kids?”
Silence.
Anibelly and I did not answer. We were doing “S” in the survival rules—sizing up the situation. It was not nighttime yet, but it was darker in the woods than in the parking lot, so I had slipped on my night-vision goggles and my N95 mask, just in case. And Anibelly had her weapon ready. We looked all around.