The Society of Super Secret Heroes (5 page)

Mrs. Mundy sighed. “That well, huh?”

 

“Are you and Kelly in any of the same classes?” Mrs. Mundy asked at dinner.

“Homeroom,” Mimi muttered as she pushed her potato salad around her plate. “Math. Spanish.”

“That's nice.”

“No, it's not,” Mimi said.

“I thought Kelly was your best friend,” Finch mumbled with his mouth full. Bits of coleslaw dribbled down his chin.

“Not anymore. I hate Kelly! She told everyone I like Ollie Rosebud.”

Finch dropped his fork. “Yuck. He's a creep. ”

Mimi stared at her fork as if she'd never seen one before. “No, he's not. I do like him.”

“Ollie
Rosebud
—are you crazy?” Finch yelled. “He's the one who teased me about my cape in first grade.”

Mimi snorted. “First grade? Get over it.”

That only got Finch more worked up. “His brother, Bud, is friends with the worst kid in class. The two of them hate me!” Finch was on the verge of telling his mother and sister about Sodaman and Spraybuddy. He needed to know what to do if it happened again.

But before he got the chance, his mother said, “Fin, you're not helping.” Then she turned to Mimi. “Maybe Kelly was trying to do you a favor. Maybe now you'll find out Ollie likes you, too.”

“No, Mom, you don't understand!” Mimi wailed. “Ollie already has a girlfriend—Holly Taylor—the most popular girl in class. Kelly just wanted to embarrass me to get on Holly's good side.”

Blah, blah, blah, blah. Finch stopped listening. He concentrated on trying to lift the blue bowl of coleslaw with his mind, but it remained in the center of the table. He put his fork on his lap and tried to bend it without using his hands, but he couldn't make a dent. He attempted to make his chair fly around the room, but it wouldn't move. He sighed loudly but no one noticed.

Swish . . . swish . . . swish . . . swish.
A strange noise came from outside the room. That got everyone's attention. It sounded like someone was mopping the floor. In another moment, a gray cloth appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. Rosie was dragging it.

Finch jumped out of his chair. “Rosie, give me that!”

But Mimi leaned down and got it first. “Let me see, baby,” she said as she took the rag away from the ferret. “Ew, what is this?”

Finch jumped up. He tried to snatch it from his sister, but his mother caught his arm. “Isn't that your Justice League T-shirt, Finch? What happened?”

Finch swallowed. “Why don't you ask Ollie Rosebud's brother? Spraybuddy!”

Finch was finishing his cereal when his mother appeared in the kitchen. “What are you doing down here so early?” she asked.

“I want to get to school before class starts so I can do my job. Would you drop me off on the way to work?”

Mrs. Mundy squinted her left eye the way she always did when she was doubtful about something. “I have to meet a client at eight. Won't you be too early?”

“Some of the teachers will be there. I can sit in the corridor and read if the classroom door is locked.”

But the door to the classroom was open, and Mr. Burns was at his computer when Finch arrived.

“Hi, Mr. Burns. I wanted to get started with my zookeeper job, if it's okay.”

“Sure, Fin—good idea. It will take the hermies a while to get used to you. They may not come out of their shells until they feel they can trust you.”

“Okay.” Finch went over to the table and stared into the tank. The crab in the small white shell with brown spots was hunkered down in a corner. “Hey, Anthony,” he said quietly.

The crab in the larger shell poked out its eye-stalks. With its small claw it reached up and tapped the tank. Maybe it was crab-talk for “I'm hungry.” Fin reached for the jar called Hermit Crab Grub on the tray beside the tank. While he was reading the feeding instructions, his classmates started arriving. Some of them wandered over to the Critter Corner.

“Excuse me, I'm one of the zookeepers.” Elliott elbowed through the kids and stood next to Finch. Kevin and Rajiv squeezed up to the table, too.

Raj reached for the turtle food. “I'll take care of Lima Bean.”

“I'll feed Hoover and you feed Eureka,” Elliott told Kev.

“You can't feed one fish at a time,” Kev said. “You can't even tell them apart.”

“Sure I can. I'm already an expert on them,” El replied. “For instance, do you know why goldfish are orange?”

“No, why?” Chloe and Kayla asked from behind the boys.

Elliott peered over his shoulder and grinned. “Because the water makes them rusty.”

“Uhh,” Kev grunted. But Chloe and Kayla both giggled.

“Boy, that stuff stinks,” Bud announced as Fin unscrewed the top to the hermit-crab food.

“Then why don't you go somewhere else?” Finch sprinkled the food into the crabs' dish. Phil stuck his legs out of his shell. His antennae twitched. But Anthony didn't move at all.

“Come on, Anthony, it's your breakfast, too.” Finch lifted the lid on the tank and picked up the smaller crab. “It's okay, boy, I'm your friend,” he murmured as he held it on a flat, steady palm.

Suddenly it seemed as if the entire class was in the Critter Corner, pushing and shoving to get closer to the tanks.

“Let me see!”

“Can I hold him?”

“Gimme.” A hand snatched Anthony off Finch's palm.

Finch whirled around.

“What's the matter, Towelman?” Thorn jeered. “Did you lose your little super-crabby?” He raised his fist.

“Don't hold him like that!” Finch snapped. “You'll scare him.”

“Scare him? It's just a stupid crab. It doesn't have feelings.”

“Give him back!” Finch grabbed Thorn's arm.

Thorn shoved Finch away.
Bam!
Finch fell back against the table. Water sloshed out of the goldfish tank. Elliott threw his arms around it to steady it.

Finch launched himself toward Thorn. “Give me that crab!” But Thorn stuck his arm straight up so that the fist that held Anthony was out of Finch's reach.

Finch leaped for the fist and stumbled forward. As he came down, his hand whacked Thorn on the nose.

“Oooooooh!” his classmates gasped.

Flaaah! Flaaah! Flaaaaaaah!
Mr. Burns blew his bugle so hard everyone jumped. Thorn's hand sprang open.

“Nooo!” Finch cried as Anthony flew through the air. He felt a thump on the top of his sneaker. He looked down. Anthony was resting there.

“Everyone freeze!”

While the kids stood like statues, Mr. Burns strode over to the Critter Corner. He leaned down in front of Finch and scooped Anthony up.

“Is he okay?” Finch asked.

Mr. Burns brought his palm up to eye level. “I think so. Landing on the sneaker probably saved him—no thanks to you boys.”

“Me? But it wasn't my fault—” Finch began.

“Yes, it was.” Thorn sniffled. “You socked me and I dropped him. I couldn't help it.” Blood was leaking out of his nose.

“I didn't!” Finch protested. “I fell.”

“You'd better go to the nurse's office and get some ice for that nosebleed,” Mr. Burns told Thorn.

Bud bounced on his toes. “Should I go with him?”

Mr. Burns hesitated a moment. “No.”

Finch touched his teacher's arm to get his attention. “Mr. Burns, it really wasn't my fault. I didn't mean to—”

But Mr. Burns cut him off. “I don't want to hear it. I'll talk to you later during recess. For now, just go back to your seat.”

“You didn't even see what happened,” Finch protested.

“I said later, Fin.” Mr. Burns turned away. “Everyone—return to your desks and take out your math books.”

 

After lunch, Finch went back to the classroom instead of out to the school yard with the rest of the guys. Mr. Burns was reading a magazine called
Snowboarder
.

“Don't sit at your desk, Finch. Come over to the rug.” Mr. Burns closed his magazine. “I thought we could do a little yoga together. Before we begin, I want you to know something. Yoga is not a punishment. That's not why you're here. Doing yoga stretches not only the body, but the mind, too. It can help you think clearly and have more positive thoughts. And it's a great way to chill out.”

Mr. Burns lowered himself down easily and sat Indian-style. Finch plopped down and slouched over. He breathed a noisy sigh. Maybe yoga wasn't a punishment, but what about losing your recess time?

“Anyone can fight,” Mr. Burns said as quietly as if he were telling Finch a secret. “But bullying isn't the answer. The thinking person figures out a better way to solve a problem.”

Finch clenched his jaw. Mr. Burns was going to make a terrible teacher. He couldn't even tell a bully from a victim. He still hadn't heard Finch's side of the story. It was as if he didn't care who was right.

But in a few moments, Finch was in the downward-facing dog pose. He was bent over at the middle with his hands and feet on the floor. His arms and legs were stretched out tight. His rear end was pointed up in the air. The pose was harder to do than it looked, but Finch tried until he got it.

“Not bad,” Mr. Burns said. “Now let's try the rattlesnake pose—and if we have time, we'll do the scorpion.”

Finch thought Scorpionman would be a good name for a superhero—or an evil villain. There were times when it would be extremely helpful to have a poisonous stinger. Like right now.
Zap!
He'd use it on Thorn. It was his fault Mr. Burns didn't like Fin after just a day and a half of school.

The thought created a stinging feeling behind Fin's eyes. He kept his head down. He wondered if he would ever be able to change his teacher's mind.

Finch was down on the floor of his room, leaning on his forearms and his right knee. His left leg was in the air, knee bent, toes pointed up at the ceiling. It was a version of the scorpion pose, although he hadn't totally gotten it yet. He still needed to raise his right knee off the floor too, balancing on his foot instead. He was determined to be ready in case Mr. Burns asked him to do yoga again. He wanted his teacher to see he'd been practicing.

One, two, three, up! He pushed onto the ball of his foot, toppled over, and hit his head on the garbage can. “Ow! Ow!” he moaned as he lay there rubbing his temple.

Cubby scampered in to check out the commotion. He climbed over Fin's face and headed for the garbage can, which had rolled onto its side.

Finch let out a giggle. Now the mind voice was being funny. He wondered if he'd gotten a concussion or if he was going a little crazy.

He reached into the can and pulled Cubby out. Then he removed the cape. He had to admit he was glad the old thing was still in the garbage. After the day he'd had, he needed something to calm him down and help him think clearly. He folded it into a pillow and stuck it under his head.

It was a joke that Mr. Burns had gotten mad at him for fighting today, but not the ha-ha kind of joke. It had been the only time in his entire life that he'd hit someone. Once again, he saw his hand smacking Thorn's nose and bright red blood snaking from Thorn's nostrils. Ugg. Fin was sure Thorn would find a way to get even.

In comic books, superheroes always did a lot of fighting. There were tons of
kapows!
and
kapops!
But if he was ever to be a real superhero, Fin thought he'd have to be a different kind.

“Yeah, right,” he told himself.

But an idea had already begun stirring his brain—no, his entire body—into action. He sprang up off the floor and headed for his desk, stopping to grab the cape off the floor. It might help to think like a superhero, he told himself as he tied it on. Then he dropped into his desk chair and began writing.

Ugg. That sounded like the Boy Scout oath. Finch had been a Cub Scout for a few months. At the first den meeting, he'd made a compass out of a penny and a paper clip. At another, he'd made a mini-tepee out of brown paper and Popsicle sticks. And at his third and last, he'd carved a canoe out of a bar of soap. But he'd wanted real compasses, real tents, and real boats! He'd refused to go to another meeting, even after his mother pointed out how much she'd spent on the uniform.