Superheroes Don't Eat Veggie Burgers (15 page)

“Hey!” I yell, but it's no use. Number 32 has me out of my chair and in the air before I know what's happening.

“Whatcha got there?” Boomer growls.

“Little guy is writing something down,” Number 32 says, holding my journal up in the air with his other hand. “You want to see it?”

“Throw it over,” says Boomer. My journal goes sailing through the air.

I squeeze my eyes closed, waiting for the goose bumps to explode on my skin.

They don't.

I squeeze tighter, trying to see Dude's face.

Nothing.

Great time for a vacation, Dude.

Boomer starts flipping through my journal. If he reads the stuff I've written, he's going to rearrange my face in such a way that even my mom won't recognize me.

Come on, Dude.

I look over at Grant. A guy with spiky hair has shoved him facedown on the chessboard, his arm jerked so far up his back, he can probably scratch his own head. His glasses are twisted sideways, and a pawn is sticking out of his right ear.

I squeeze my eyes closed again.
Concentrate,
I tell myself.

But it's not working. I didn't write enough. We're dead meat.

Just then, a shrieking noise pierces through the room.

“What the—” Number 32 drops me like I'm radioactive and slams his hands over his ears.

The fire alarm.

“Fire!” I scream. “The building's on fire!” Number 32 looks at me like I just suggested he put on a tutu.

“Get out, you big oaf!” I shove him, my hands sinking into his doughy middle. Boomer tosses my journal onto the floor, then stumbles after Number 32 and the rest of his goons. They bump against one another, cursing and yelling the whole way. Finally, they squeeze out and take off toward the exit at the end of the hall.

“Let's go!” I holler, turning back to the others.

Nobody moves except Grant, who sits up and pulls the pawn out of his ear.

“Everyone, line up, single file!”

The chess club gathers around me, waiting. For a second I'm confused, until I realize what's happening—everyone is following my directions.

“Exit's to the right, people. Stay calm, and move in an orderly fashion.” Suddenly, I sound a lot like my mom. One after another, everyone files out, first the girls, then Simon, and finally Grant. We make it to the door at the end of the hall, and I shove it open. The sun's so bright, it makes me blink.

“Everyone, come on!” We run out of the building just as we hear the wails of a fire truck.

I rub my eyes and look around. Boomer and his cronies lean against the fence, panting like they've just run a marathon. The chess team is sprawled out on the hill next to me—Grant, Simon, the two seventh-grade girls …

Dolores. Where's Dolores?

I tear back toward the exit door and reach it just as three firefighters come jogging around the corner. They break into a run as soon as they see me.

“Oh no, you don't.” The first guy slams his hand against the door while another one grabs me up in a bear hug.

“Someone's still in there!” I holler. “And I've got to get her out!” I thrash my legs back and forth, but it's no use. This guy's built like a tree trunk.

“If someone's still in there, we'll find them,” he says calmly as the other two guys go into the building. “No need to be a hero, son.”

I start to argue but freeze when I see what's coming at me.

My mom marches up the sidewalk, her face set like stone.

 

CHAPTER

28

“What do you think you're doing?” she demands.

The tree trunk spins around. “Huh? Oh, Officer Burger. Had a fire alarm go off inside the school. We're thinking some kid pulled a prank, but Billy and Chet are checking it out now.”

Her eyes blaze. “Doug, let go of my son.”

“Wha—oh! This your kid?” He lets go of me, and I topple to the ground. “Quite the Good Samaritan, this guy.”

She bends down and brushes the hair out of my eyes. “You okay, Charlie? I just heard the call over the radio.…”

I scramble to my feet. “I'm fine,” I say, pushing her hand away. The tree trunk rocks back on his heels, grinning.

The door opens, and one of the firefighters pokes his head out. “All clear, Doug. Definitely a prank. We're going to search the building.”

Doug gives him a thumbs-up, then looks down at me.

“Not a smart prank. Pulling an alarm when there's no fire can get you into a lot of trouble.”

He nods at my mom, then slips inside. I start to turn back to my friends.

“Come with me,” my mom says, grabbing my arm.

“Mom, could you not do that here?” I say, looking around to see if anyone's watching us.

She grips harder. “What do you know about this?” she demands.

I look at her like she's lost her marbles. “Nothing. I was at chess club. The fire alarm went off, and I cleared everyone out.”

Pulling a pad of paper from her back pocket, she points a finger at me.

“Stay here while I question the others. I mean it, Charlie. Don't move.”

Right then, another squad car pulls up. We both look as Officer Gargotti opens the door and hoists himself out. When he sees my mom, a frown the size of Alaska spreads across his face.

“Hey, Gargotti,” she calls out, waving. “Sounds like some kids were just messing around. Don't worry; I've got it covered.”

“You're off duty,” he says, puffing up to us. “You're not even supposed to be here.”

“Joe, this is my kids' school.”

He crosses his arms, and I can see his undershirt peeking through the gaps in his uniform. “Come on, Betty, don't do this. Chief's already warned you about—”

She puts her hands up, cutting him off. “All right, I get it.” She turns and motions for me to follow.

“I'm going to stick around for a little while,” I tell her. “I'll meet you at home.”

She looks at me like I'm the one missing some marbles. “You'll do no such thing,” she says. “Let's go.” She looks back at Officer Gargotti. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

We drive home in silence. I keep my eyes focused out the window, watching the clouds that continue to roll in. The radio announcer tells us there's a good-size storm moving in off the Atlantic.

We pull into the driveway, and she cuts the engine. “Charlie,” she says. “Please tell me you had nothing to do with whatever went on today at that school.”

She can't be serious.
“Mom, I already told you. I would never do something like pull a fire alarm.”

“Okay, okay. I just wanted to make sure.” She gives me a weak smile. “You just never know these days.”

Suddenly, my insides are seething. “Yes, you do know! I may not be a star soccer player like Lucy, or Miss Perfect like Stella, but I'm not an idiot.”

She looks at me like I just sucker-punched her. “Charles. Of course you're not an—”

“But you're always treating me like one!” I'm yelling now, and my nose is starting to run. “You're always looking over my shoulder, checking my toenails, criticizing my clothes, waiting for me to do something stupid, to mess up.” I wipe my face with my sleeve. “You tell me you want me to grow up, but how can I when you're always treating me like I'm a little kid, like today.”

“Like today?” Her voice sounds hurt, but I don't care.

“Yes! Like today! Showing up at my school, acting like you have to rescue me, then treating me like I'm some sort of criminal.” I blink fast. “It's embarrassing.”

We sit there for a minute, me wiping my nose, and her staring off into space. Finally, she speaks, her voice calm. “I'm sorry if I embarrass you, Charlie. But I am your mom. And my first job, above all others, is to protect you.” She reaches for my hand. “And even if you don't like it, that's never going to change.”

I pull my hand away. “Everything changes, Mom. Everything.”

I push the door open and jump out, the tears stinging my eyes as I run.

*   *   *

Hours later, I wake up. My room has grown dark, and it's cold—colder than normal. I sit up, thinking I should grab another blanket or maybe go downstairs to see if my dad saved some dinner for me.

And then I hear it.

Something is standing next to me, its breathing raspy and wet.

“I know karate,” I whisper. “And my mom has a gun.”

Then it lets out a noise, like a howl.

“Owwowwowwoooowwww…”

“Lucy? Is that you?” I reach forward and snap on the light. She leans against the edge of my bed, her tongue hanging out. “What are you doing in here? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

She howls again so loud that I throw my hand over her mouth.

“You want to wake the whole neighborhood?” I ask her, trying to ignore her wet tongue against my palm. Suddenly, a sharp pain shoots through my hand. It takes me a second to realize she's sunk her teeth into my middle finger. I stuff my other fist in my mouth, trying not to scream.

“Get out!” I screech, and yank my hand free.

Lucy scratches herself for a minute, then scampers out of my room and down the hall.

I sit back against my pillows, sucking on my throbbing finger.

Lucy may be a bratty sister, but this dog thing has gone too far.

I've got to figure out how to switch her back, but how?

I look around for my backpack.

I search under my coat, a towel, and even under my bed.

And then it hits me.

The last time I saw my backpack, it was under my chair during chess club.

The last time I saw my journal, Boomer was tossing it onto the science lab floor.

I've got to get that journal back. And fast.

 

CHAPTER

29

On Friday, I get up earlier than usual and dress quickly. My plan is simple: I'll go straight to the science room, grab my journal, and write an adventure that will turn Lucy normal again by dinnertime.… Well, at least normal for her.

But when I round the corner into the kitchen, my mom and dad are both already at the table. My dad is busy at the stove, and my mom's reading the paper. They both look up when I walk in.

“Dad,” I say, still sore at my mom from yesterday, “I'm just going to grab a banana and head out. I've got a lab that I need to finish and—”

He puts up his hands.

“Not so fast, buddy.”

“But, Dad…”

“Look out the window.”

I walk over to the back door and peek through the blinds. The backyard is blanketed in fresh fluffy snow. There's not a lot, but more is falling from the sky.

“Snow day!” He holds up his spatula in a victory salute.

Lucy bounces into the kitchen and scampers to the door. She puts her hands on the glass and presses her nose against it. She lets out a bark.

My mom looks at my dad. “Do you think I should cancel Lucy's appointment with Dr. Daniels today? I really don't want to, but the roads may be dangerous.”

My dad sets a plate of pancakes in front of me. “I wouldn't yet. I'm pretty sure the weather forecasters overpredicted this one. Last night they were calling for six inches, but it's too early for that much snow. Now they're saying it'll melt before noon.”

I stuff half a pancake in my mouth. “Then I better get to Grant's.” Grant's house is right next to the best sledding hill on all of Cape Ann. Plus, I have to pass right by Gatehouse to get there. A quick pit stop to pick up my journal, then—

“First, breakfast,” my dad says, pointing to my plate. “Then Grant's.”

I cram in another forkful as my mom's cell phone rings. She picks it up immediately.

“Chief? Oh, finally,” she says, turning away from the table. “Thanks for calling me back.” She puts her hand around the phone and lowers her voice. “Are you at the middle school now? Great,” she says, checking her watch. “I can be there in five minutes.” The corners of her mouth turn down. “But, Chief, I really think I should be involved in—” Her head bobs. “Sure, I understand. I'll wait for you at the precinct.”

“Any news?” my dad asks.

She shoots him her not-in-front-of-the-children look. “Not yet.”

Suddenly, my mouthful of pancake seems harder to swallow than it did a minute ago.

“I'm going down to the station,” she says, folding the paper in half. She walks over to the trash can and stuffs the paper inside. “I'll be back in time to take Lucy to her appointment.”

She heads for the hallway and motions for my dad to follow. As soon as they're gone, I jump up and run to the trash can. My dad is the king of recycling and would never stand back and watch my mom throw paper away. There's something in there they don't want me to see.

I grab the paper out of the trash and wipe the coffee grounds off the back. I spread it out on the table, peeking around the corner. I can see my dad nodding at something my mom is saying.

“Ruff!” says Lucy.

I point my finger at her. “No barking,” I say, and for some reason it works. She starts licking the syrup bottle instead.

I quickly scan the front page but find nothing about Gatehouse. I flip it open and look at page two, then three. Not a single mention until the last page.

There, in the bottom left corner, is the headline,
False Fire Alarm at Middle School Suspends One, Four Hospitalized.
I glance up at the back of my dad's head, which is still nodding. I start reading.

A sixth-grade female honors student at Gatehouse Middle School has been suspended for three days after tampering with the fire alarm yesterday afternoon. The incident led to the dispatch of the Cape Ann Fire Department and Cape Ann Police Force. Though no damage was reported and no arrests made, four eighth-grade males have been hospitalized following the incident. An investigation is underway.