Secret Superhero

by Justin D'Ath

  But it wasn’t working.

  The circus rhino was turning just as quickly as she was. She could hear his sawing breath right behind her. The ground shook with his mighty footfalls. In total desperation, the terrified rat cop emptied the can of spray over her shoulder in a long, hissing cloud. It saved her life. Her huge pursuer coughed and fell back a few paces. Officer Katt seized her chance and ducked through a gap between the lions’ trailer and a big glass-fronted shipping container with a fake jungle inside.

  Assam had taken another face-full of rat spray. But he’d learned from the last two blasts. This time he closed his eyes. It burned his nostrils and set his mouth on fire, but when the hissing spray stopped and he blinked his eyes back open, he could still see.

  In front of him was a sight that took him back nearly thirty years.

  While Officer Katt was growing up in Africa, Assam was growing up in the wilds of eastern India. He was only six months old when his mother was killed by poachers. Assam had been rescued by game rangers and was later sold to an overseas zoo, but he had never forgotten his old life in the jungle.

  And now, miraculously, he was back there.

  Assam broke into a gallop and charged to freedom.

  KEEERASH!

  Officer Katt poked her head cautiously around the far end of the trailer. The Menagerie was in chaos. Animals were running loose in all directions, the peacocks were shrieking, and the huge male lion in the trailer next to her was roaring so loudly it made her chest tremble.

  This wasn’t what she’d planned. She’d wanted to create chaos, but out in the city streets, not here in The Menagerie.

  There were shouts in the distance – barely audible between the lion’s roars and the demented cries of the peacocks. At any moment, Captain Noah and his circus staff would come swarming in to see what was going on. Officer Katt’s plan would be foiled.

  Thirty metres away, the rhino stood in a pool of shattered glass, staring into the shipping container. Assam no longer seemed angry. He just looked confused.

  Officer Katt darted from her hiding place and picked up the piece of scaffolding pipe she’d dropped earlier. She wasn’t beaten yet. Waving the pipe like a club, the rat cop strode toward the rhino, yelling in her best imitation of a thirteen-year-old boy’s voice. ‘Shoo! Shoo! Shoo!’

  Assam saw her striding towards him. He saw the waving pipe and heard her threatening cries. But what worried him more was what he’d discovered about the shipping container. It wasn’t a jungle at all.

  And inside it there was something dangerous.

  Officer Katt heaved a sigh of relief when the rhino turned and went lumbering away, his tail in the air like a frightened Lost World warthog’s. She took off after him, waving the pipe and yelling.

  Somewhere behind her, a voice shouted: ‘COLT! WHAT IN BLAZES ARE YOU DOING?’

  The snowy-haired figure was careful not to turn her head. But an evil, rat-like grin spread across her face as she chased the rhino out the other end of The Menagerie.

  Mission accomplished.

  Colt was nervous about leaving the caravan. Not because of all the noise outside, but because of how he looked. People would laugh at him.

  Clown suits were definitely a terrible choice for superheroes.

  But nobody took the slightest bit of notice when he and Birdy slipped outside. There were other things to distract them. Scary things.

  ‘Look out!’ cried Birdy.

  They flattened themselves against the caravan as a wild-eyed bighorn ram went galloping past.

  ‘Shashlik!’ Colt muttered, watching it go charging off through Circus City.

  ‘Was it Rocky or Butthead?’ Birdy asked.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  A panting figure came jogging towards them. It was the circus foreman, Mr Busby, carrying a coiled-up length of rope. He didn’t bat an eyelid at their weird outfits. ‘Have you seen Assam?’

  Assam?!!! Colt thought. He didn’t want to talk in case Mr Busby recognised his voice, so he just shook his head.

  Birdy shook her head, too.

  They watched Mr Busby go puffing off in the same direction as the fleeing ram.

  ‘Assam must have got out, too,’ Colt whispered.

  Birdy nodded. ‘We’d better go and help.’

  ‘Help?’ said Colt.

  ‘We’re superheroes, aren’t we?’

  Colt felt stupid. For a moment he’d forgotten. ‘I had better get my backpack.’

  They raced to his caravan. His mother had found a space for it four spots along from Birdy’s. Usually they were next-door-neighbours. Colt hoped his mother wasn’t home as he cautiously pulled open the door. How would he explain the clown suit and face-paint? Luckily she wasn’t there, and he and Birdy ducked inside. Birdy went to the end window and peered out between the curtains while Colt grabbed his backpack. There were a couple of muesli bars in one of the pockets. But he would need more muscle-fuel than that if he was going to tangle with Assam.

  When Colt looked in the caravan’s little fridge, he discovered it was nearly empty. His mother always went shopping on the day the circus arrived in a new town, but today there had been heavy traffic and everyone was running late. He took everything from the fridge except his mother’s prune juice, then checked the pantry. There wasn’t much there, either.

  ‘There goes a wallaby!’ Birdy said at the window.

  Colt frowned as he dropped a tin of sardines and the end of a loaf of bread into his backpack. A bighorn ram had run past. Mr Busby was looking for Assam. And now a wallaby was loose. What was going on?

  There was a loud KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK on the door.

  He and Birdy ducked below window-level. They looked at each other, wide-eyed and silent. Why are we hiding? Colt wondered. Then he remembered the clown suits.

  It was silent outside. Well, silent except for all the noise from The Menagerie. The lions and peacocks had stopped making a din, but people were still shouting.

  Knock, knock, knock!

  This time the knocking wasn’t so loud. It seemed to come from the caravan next door. There was a short silence (if you didn’t count all the shouting in the distance), then more knocking from even further away. Someone was going along the row of caravans, knocking on everyone’s door.

  Colt caught Birdy’s eye again. They couldn’t stay there forever. Something bad had happened and it was Superclown’s job to help.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, slipping his arms through the straps of his backpack.

  By the time Colt and Birdy stepped outside, the person doing the doorknocking was down near Birdy’s caravan. It was Mrs Hinton. She was a real circus clown, but this afternoon she was just wearing a tracksuit and sneakers. And knocking on people’s doors. She looked surprised to see two unknown clowns emerge from one of the caravans.

  ‘Go back inside!’ she called, waving urgently at them. ‘There’s been a break-out in The Menagerie.’

  They nodded to show they understood. And they did understand. Assam, a bighorn and a wallaby had got loose. Tugging on Birdy’s polka-dotted sleeve, Colt led her off in the opposite direction.

  ‘Be careful!’ Mrs Hinton called after them. ‘There are dangerous animals on the loose!’

  Colt wondered if she’d just meant Assam and the bighorn. Wallabies weren’t dangerous. He hoped nothing else had escaped.

  What was that loud crash they’d heard earlier, like breaking glass?

  But right now, Colt was more worried about running into people than dangerous animals. He led Birdy behind a big motorhome.

  ‘Do you think Mrs Hinton recognised us?’

  ‘How could she?’ whispered Birdy. ‘Have you looked in a mirror lately?’

  He didn’t want to be reminded. But at least he didn’t look anything like Colt Lawless, the snowy-haired son of the circus vet.

  ‘Okay, let’s go and find Assam,’ he said, ducking around the end of the motorhome.

  And came face-to-face with his mother.

&nb
sp; Kristin Lawless had her arms spread wide in a shooing motion. In front of her, matching her step for step, was a tall, frightened-looking flamingo.

  ‘See if you can get round behind it,’ she said to Colt and Birdy.

  Colt shot around in front of it. He spread his arms like his mother was doing, and flapped his outstretched hands at the gangling pink bird. It ducked to one side, but Birdy was there, flapping her hands, too.

  They cornered it next to the motorhome, and Kristin pounced.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, holding the struggling flamingo against the front of her vet’s overalls. ‘There’s another one around somewhere – see if you can find it.’

  Then she turned and walked off.

  Colt and Birdy went in the other direction. He could hardly believe it. His own mother hadn’t recognised him!

  ‘See!’ whispered Birdy. ‘I told you it was a good disguise.’

  They reached the edge of Circus City. But they were still surrounded by the real city. Captain Noah was renting some sports fields at the back of a large private school in the middle of the state capital. The Big Top stood half erected on a football field. The Menagerie had been set up next to the goal posts. Four or five figures rushed back and forth in the evening shadows, chasing a pair of small, darting shapes that looked like meerkats. Two other people – one was Captain Noah – were trying to round up a wallaby.

  Birdy pointed at a skinny pink shape moving between two sideshow trucks. ‘There’s the other flamingo!’

  But Colt had noticed something else. On the far side of the Big Top, two distant figures – one animal, one human – were trotting towards the row of trees that marked the school boundary. The animal was Assam. The person, who was much too far away to identify, had snow-white hair just like Colt’s. Both of them, rhino and human, were headed towards the open gate and the busy road outside. They had a 200-metre head start on Colt, but he was Superclown.

  ‘Follow me!’

  ‘But your mum said to catch the other flamingo!’ Birdy cried behind him.

  Colt’s muscles began tingling as he ran. His superpower was kicking in. The ground flashed beneath his sneakers like a holovid in fast forward.

  ‘Anyone can catch a flamingo!’ he called over his shoulder.

  Birdy had fallen far behind. But she could see Assam now. And she could see the open gate. ‘He’s going to go on the road!’ she called.

  It was late afternoon – knock-off time. Cars were streaming past the gate in both directions. If Assam got out into the traffic, there’d be a massive pile up. People might get killed. Assam might get killed.

  Colt had to stop him.

  The rhino had a huge head start, but Colt was flying. He was running faster than would have seemed possible to anyone watching. Luckily, only Birdy was watching. As Colt shot past, the white-haired person saw him too. Colt didn’t see their face – he was concentrating on the rhino ahead – but he heard a yelp of surprise. It sounded like a woman.

  Birdy was about a hundred metres further back. She only saw the white-haired person from behind. In the distance, it looked like Colt.

  Two Colts!

  But there was only one Superclown. He overtook the rhino ten metres from the gate. Swerving in front of it, he waved his arms and flapped his hands like he and Birdy had done with the flamingo. But Assam wasn’t a flamingo. With an angry snort, he lowered his head to flick the annoying little orange-haired human aside like he’d brush off a fly. But just as Assam was nothing like a flamingo, Colt was nothing like a fly.

  Thump!

  Somehow it was the three-and-a-half tonne rhino that ended up on the ground. The forty-eight-kilogram human stood over it, a look of concern beneath his painted-on smile. ‘Sorry, mate. I hope I didn’t hurt you.’

  Assam wasn’t hurt, but he was angry – seriously angry! First all that bad stuff had happened at The Menagerie – the horrible, stinging spray that had burned his eyes and throat; the nasty white-haired human who’d hurt him and Rocky; the scary thing in the jungle – and now this. Assam struggled to get up. But no sooner was he back on his feet than the little orange-haired human had darted around behind him, grabbed one of his rear legs and dumped him back onto the ground.

  Thump!

  Assam tried to get up again – and again and again – but the same thing kept happening. Back down he went. Again and again. Thump, thump, thump! And when he tried to spin around to meet his attacker head-on, the little guy got around on the other side of him somehow, grabbed his other rear leg, and down Assam went once more. Thump! Finally the confused rhino just lay there, panting for breath and trying to make sense of the situation.

  Rhinos aren’t very intelligent, but Assam was smart enough to know that something was not quite right here. The little orange-haired human should not have been able to overpower him.

  And now another little human had arrived. This one had green hair.

  ‘Nice work,’ Birdy puffed. ‘I was really scared for a minute – I thought he was going flatten you.’

  ‘Me too,’ gasped Colt, who was even more out of breath than Birdy. ‘I’ve never been so scared in all my life!’

  She grinned. ‘It’s only a rhino. I’ve seen you lift an elephant.’

  It was true. But Colt didn’t think he could lift an elephant now. He felt dead on his feet. It was always like this after he used his superpower. He needed food to get his strength back. If he didn’t eat something soon, he’d pass out.

  ‘Help me get my backpack off,’ he gasped.

  ‘Please,’ said Birdy.

  ‘Please help me get my backpack off.’

  Birdy ducked behind him and worked the shoulder straps down his trembling arms. ‘You’d better sit down,’ she said in a kinder voice.

  Colt sat on the grass next to Assam while Birdy unzipped the backpack. ‘What would you like?’

  ‘A couple of those muesli bars,’ Colt said. ‘And maybe the yoghurt, too. Please.’

  He ended up eating everything. And why not? They’d captured Assam. But now they had to get him back to the circus. Colt peered back the way they’d come.

  ‘What happened to the white-haired lady?’

  ‘Was it a lady?’ Birdy said, surprised. ‘From behind, it looked just like you.’

  ‘Except my hair’s bright orange and frizzy.’

  ‘I meant she looked like the real you, not like Superclown.’

  ‘Did you see where she went?’ he asked.

  Birdy pointed. ‘Out the gate.’

  They could see the Colt lookalike in the distance. Except she no longer resembled him. She’d pulled her hood up and was walking quickly away from them down the footpath next to the busy road.

  ‘Did you get to see her face?’ asked the real Colt (aka Superclown).

  Birdy (aka Clowngirl) shook her head. ‘She was gone before I got here. Did you?’

  ‘No. I heard her voice, though. She kind of yelped when I went past. It reminded me of someone,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘But I can’t remember who.’

  ‘You’d better go and get Captain Noah,’ Colt said. ‘Tell him to bring Assam and Rocky’s truck, and lots of ropes.’

  ‘Please,’ he added.

  ‘What about you?’ asked Birdy.

  ‘I’ll stay here and look after Assam.’

  The rhino lay flat on the ground next to him. It was watching Colt with one wary, bloodshot eye. Colt flexed his hands. The food was beginning to work, but had there been enough? He wondered what would happen if Assam tried to get up again right now. Would Superclown be strong enough to stop him? If only the circus hadn’t been delayed, and his mum had done the shopping.

  ‘You’d better hurry,’ he said.

  Birdy went running back towards the circus, leaving Colt and the rhino next to the open gate. Beyond the gate – less than twenty metres away – traffic zoomed past in both directions. It had been a very close call. Who knows what would have happened if the rhino had got out onto the road.

  A flamingo
on the road was bad enough.

  Shashlik!

  Colt blinked in disbelief. He’d thought he was daydreaming, but there it was, strutting along next to the speeding traffic – one of the last two flamingos in the world! It must have walked right past without him noticing. One wrong move and it would join its twenty million ancestors in flamingo heaven. Another Lost World species would be doomed to extinction.

  Only Colt could save it.

  Birdy slowed down when she got back to the football field. She was out of breath. Her mother’s borrowed eye-makeup made two dribbling blue lines down her white-painted cheeks. Had there been a mirror handy, Birdy would have seen a crying clown.

  Like Colt, Birdy was worried about how people would react to her – would Captain Noah listen to a kid dressed as a clown when she told him about Colt and Assam? Would she have to fess up, tell him who she was, blow the whole Superclown and Clowngirl legend before it even started?

  Birdy needn’t have worried. There was nobody around. The Menagerie was empty – empty of people, that is. There were still lots of animals. Mwangi the lion snarled at her as she tiptoed past one of the big cats’ trailers. Further along, the orangutans sat hugging each other in a far corner of their cage, a massive knot of elbows, red fur and scared eyes. The horses were fidgety and nervous. When Birdy came to Assam and Rocky’s pen, she saw that a section of its heavy-duty rails had been unscrewed and removed. Could a rhino or a bighorn ram do that? she wondered.

  The wallabies’ pen next door looked like it had been hit by a tornado, and the meerkats’ wooden display-pit hadn’t fared much better. Mud squelched under Birdy’s feet and water seeped uncomfortably into her sneakers. She soon saw why. The flamingos’ pool lay flat on the sodden grass, puddles of water all around it.

  There were lots of carrots lying scattered across the wet ground. Birdy collected a couple and wiped them on her sleeve. Colt hadn’t asked for more food, but she knew all about how much he needed to eat after he’d done one of his superhero stunts. She bent down to pick up another one.