Superheroes Don't Eat Veggie Burgers (19 page)

Believe in yourself,
Pickles had said.

Had that been Gramps's problem? Had he believed in his journal more than he had himself?

I flip to a blank page. Maybe it's time to stop believing in superheroes, and just believe in me.

Maybe it really is time to grow up.

I pick up my pencil.

I don't know if it's the right choice, but it's my choice.

I start writing.

November 7

Episode 8: Dude's Final Adventure

Staring out over the vast planet, Dude knew it was time. His rule had been successful, and the people now lived in peace. Bloogfer and Croach had found their places among the inhabitants of Planet Splodii, and their reign of terror had come to an end. Planet Splodii no longer needed a superhero.

His work was done.

He called for Bill. The dog leaped toward him, licking his chops after having finished his final meal: three T-bone steaks, rare, and a pint of Double-Mocha Monster Crunch ice cream. Wagging his tail, Bill came and stood by his master.

Dude shape shifted his arm into the Exterminizer and pointed it at the dog. He turned the dial to
DISABLE,
then pulled the trigger.

Whoosh!
Within seconds, a fog filled the air, surrounding Bill. As the air cleared, the Imbecile stood in the spot where the dog had been.

“Behave yourself,” he told her, “or I'm coming back for you.”

Then he turned the dial to
DISASSEMBLE
and pointed it at himself. He looked down the mountain at the people below.

“Take care of one another,” he said, and pulled the trigger again.

Poof!
As the citizens of Splodii looked up, they saw a golden cloud fill the air above them, then slowly lift off into space. They bowed their heads in unison.

For many months afterward, people on Splodii would claim that on very clear days, small golden particles could be seen floating through the atmosphere, reminding them of the superstudly guy who had successfully rid their universe of evil.

Dude Explodius was gone.

At least, until someone, somewhere, needed him again.

 

CHAPTER

32

“Dinner!” I holler while I fold the last napkin. Normally, I make myself scarce when it's time to set the table. But tonight, it feels good to help.

I think about my decision to get rid of Dude Explodius. Even though I'm not looking forward to getting chewed out by Coach or having to keep a low profile around guys like Boomer, maybe it's worth it just to have things be normal again.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against superheroes. I just don't need to believe I am one.

As I set down the last glass, Pickles and Stella come into the dining room, Pickles carrying a pan of lasagna, and Stella, a basket of homemade wheat berry rolls. Everyone looks around.

“Where's Lucy?” my dad asks, tossing the salad.

“Probably out chasing cars,” I say. “Or eating the mailman.”

My dad shoots me a look that shuts me up.

“This is getting ridiculous,” mutters Pickles. She takes the cigar from her mouth. “Lucille Evelyn Burger!” Her scream makes us wince. “Get yourself down here right now!”

Seconds later, Lucy walks into the room.

The first thing I notice is the bow. Bright pink and wider than my dad's size-eleven work shoes, it perches on top of her head like a tiara. Her curls hang in neat spirals around her shoulders, even more boingy than they were before. And her dress? It's the color of cotton candy and looks like something straight out of one of those princess shows she likes. When she walks by me, I catch a whiff of her strawberry lip gloss.

She's Lucy again.

She pulls out a chair and sits down carefully. Like a surgeon preparing his instruments, she spreads her napkin across her lap and adjusts her knife, fork, and spoon. Finally, she looks up at us.

My dad holds the serving spoon in midair, red sauce dripping onto my mom's favorite tablecloth, while Pickles and Stella seem to have forgotten how to chew. Their mouths hang open, too stunned to say anything.

“What?” Lucy says, looking around the table.

My dad, seeing the sauce, dumps the spoonful of lasagna onto Pickles's plate and wipes up the spill with his finger.

“You look lovely, sweetie,” he says.

“Totally.” Stella nods.

“About time,” I mutter, and grab two rolls. I'm hungrier than I've been in weeks.

*   *   *

I'm on my third helping of lasagna when the front door creaks open.

We all stop, frozen.

“Hello?” we hear from the front hallway.

“Mommy!” Lucy jumps out of her chair, smacking her plate with her forearm. Half of her salad lands in my lap.

The rest of us get up and follow my sister into the hallway. My mom stands in the open doorway, her face already buried in Lucy's hair. They stand like that for what seems like forever. My mom looks up, her eyes searching my dad's. He shrugs and smiles.

I stare at my mom standing in our front hall, looking tired but happy. I resist the urge to copy Lucy.

“Food's getting cold.” Pickles places her hands on Stella's shoulders and steers her back toward the dining room, motioning for the rest of us to follow. “Your mom must be starving, guys,” she says over her shoulder. “Let's go fix her a plate.”

*   *   *

Later, after the dishes are washed and Pickles has beaten me at Battleship twice, I go upstairs to get ready for bed. I'm brushing my teeth when I hear my parents' voices coming from their bedroom on the other side of my bathroom wall.

“I still don't understand why you did it.” My dad's voice is tight, like his vocal cords are stretched too thin.

“Because I'm his mother,” I hear my mom say. “Who knows what would have happened if someone had found him in there? The panic surrounding those boys' illness has gotten out of control.”

I stop moving my toothbrush and listen.

“But the consequences for you—”

“I knew the consequences before I went in there.” She sniffs, like her nose is running.

My dad grunts. “I can't believe the chief suspended you for this.”

Suspended? From the police force?

“Well, this isn't my first … incident. Chief had warned me.”

They're both quiet for a minute, then I hear a noise, like someone's crying.

“Come here,” my dad says, his voice softening. “It's going to be okay.”

“I know.” My mom's voice is muffled, like she's talking into his shirt. “I just hate for the kids to see me like this.”

“Nobody's perfect,” he says. The sobbing grows louder. “Maybe it's time we all come to terms with that.”

I turn and spit what's left of my toothpaste into the sink, then climb into my bed.

I'm just about to drift off when my door creaks open, and the light from the hall falls across my bed.

“Charles?”

I keep my eyes closed tight.

“Charlie?” My mom sits down on my bed. “Are you still awake?”

I open one eye.

“Hi,” she says, smiling at me.

“This is all my fault, Mom,” I tell her. “I lied to you and Dad. On top of that, if I hadn't asked you to get my journal—”

She brushes the hair out of my eyes. “It's not your fault, Charlie. I made my choices. I have to live with them.”

I want to say something else, but my eyes won't stay open. I don't know how long she sits there, but I fall asleep like that, her sitting there, watching me.

It's kind of nice, to be honest.

*   *   *

“And no death games. They're going to a dance, not war.”

I look down at the rows of naked Barbies splayed out on Lucy's bed, and I shake my head.

At their last appointment, Dr. Daniels had told my dad that the reason for Lucy's strange behavior was her need for more attention at home.

“He suggested we all find ways to interact with her more,” my dad explained over breakfast this morning. “We need to try some things that she enjoys, focus more on her needs, not ours.”

I almost choked on my bran muffin, but I agreed to try. This, though, may be more than I can stand.

“Okay,” Lucy says, studying the mass of naked bodies in front of her. She plucks one out of the middle of the row. “They each need something special to wear. You can start with her. She's one of my favorites.”

She holds the Barbie out to me, and I take it. I'd be more excited if she'd just handed me her used Kleenex.

“Why is it a favorite?” I ask skeptically. To me, they all look the same: pink, plastic, and blond. “Oh, never mind. Just give me the clothes.”

She laughs.

It's the first Sunday of fall break, and I'm bored out of my mind. For two days straight my dad has had us on house arrest.

“Until those boys' tests come back, no one's leaving,” he said, looking first at me, then at my mom. “No exceptions, understand?”

We both nodded. “Understand,” we said in unison.

“This is the fun part, Charlie!” Lucy holds up a pink wicker basket and turns it upside down. A million pieces of colored fabric rain down on her bed. She looks at me triumphantly. “You get to pick out their outfits yourself.”

“Lucy, you're not serious.”

She holds out a bright-orange-and-pink dress.

“Here. She'll look fantastic in this.” She drops the dress, then picks up a dark purple one. “Or this one, if you prefer something fancier.”

I toss the Barbie onto the bed and stand up. “I've got to clean my room,” I tell her.

She looks at me for a minute, then her eyes drop to her lap. She fiddles with the Barbie in her hand, the one with the red sequined ball gown and matching high heels.

“Charlie,” she says in an almost-whisper. “No one likes to play with me. The other kids say I'm too bossy.” She smooths the doll's hair. “They say Barbies are for babies.”

I am not falling for this. “Yeah, well, you are. Bossy, I mean. And they are for babies. Kind of.”

She bites her bottom lip.

“Oh jeez,” I say, sitting back down. I tap my foot and stare at the ceiling.

“I'm trying, Charlie. I really am,” she says. “But I'm a very good leader, and I'm smarter than everyone in my class.” She looks up at me. “I wish I was more like you.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mumble.

“No, really!” Her eyes grow wide. “You're much more”—she searches for the word—“easygoing. I wish I didn't always have to be in control of everything.”

I stare at her. Maybe my bratty sister's human, after all.

“Listen, Lucy,” I tell her. “There's nothing wrong with being smart or in control. Just stop rubbing everyone's noses in it all the time.”

She nods, biting her lip.

I sigh. “Fine. I'll play for twenty more minutes, but that's it.”

“Really?” Her eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

“Yes, really. But I'm not dressing any of them.”

She hands me a doll with a sparkly tiara perched on its head. “You can be her. She's the mean one who no one wants to eat lunch with because she steals boyfriends. And she has an eating disorder.”

I toss the doll back onto the pile, dislodging her princess crown.

“Fat chance, Lucy.”

“Charlie, please…”

And then I hear it, my mom's voice from downstairs.

“Burgers! Time for showers!”

Lucy scrunches up her nose. “But it's fall break!” she hollers.

My mom hollers back. “It's also late. Bedtime's in thirty minutes … or else!”

I jump up.

“Come on, Charlie,” Lucy whines. “Ten more minutes?”

“You heard Mom. Do you really want to find out what ‘or else' means?”

I sprint out of the room and toward the bathroom, grinning. Maybe showers aren't so bad, after all.

 

CHAPTER

33

I'm planning to sleep in on Monday, but I wake up to a buzzing in my ear. I bat at the alarm clock, and it crashes to the ground, but still the buzzing continues. I stuff my head under my pillow, but it's no use. It won't go away.

I sit up and realize it's the doorbell.

I look outside. My mom's squad car has been gone since Friday, but normally the minivan is there. This morning the driveway is empty.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” I call out, banging down the stairs. The cold air hits my face the second I pull open the door.

Franki leans against the railing.

“Took you long enough,” she says, removing her finger from the buzzer.

“Hi,” I say. My chest feels like someone just knocked the wind out of me. “What're you doing here? Why aren't you in Colorado?”

“Plans fell through,” she says. “Even though the snow here didn't amount to much, there was enough in Colorado to cancel most of the flights.”

A weird feeling comes over me, and I think back to the journal entry I wrote about Franki.

Did I make this happen?

I shrug, realizing it doesn't matter anymore. The experiment is over. Dude is gone.

And then I realize something else.

“If you weren't in Colorado, then where were you all weekend?”

She kicks at a piece of ice next to the door. “Things got a little heated at my house on Thursday after school. Since I was flying out of Boston the next day, Lila sent me on the train a day early, and I spent the night at Aunt Carol's. When my plane got canceled, I decided to stay for the weekend.” She studies the chunk of ice like it's the most interesting thing she's seen all day.