The Society of Super Secret Heroes (8 page)

“Come on, Fin—don't you want to be extraordinary?” El begged.

“Okay, don't worry. I won't tell anyone,” Fin said hoarsely. “None of us will, right?”

The guys all murmured agreement.

“Here.” Kev tore out the page he'd been drawing on and handed it to Fin. It showed the letters SSSh with a lightning bolt running through them. “I made an emblem for us.” He grinned. “And for the mascot, too.”

“Thanks—it's really good,” Fin said. He followed the guys to the front door and watched them hurry down the walk. He could tell they were glad to be going. Finding out about the cape had scared them, too. It wasn't like in books and movies where kids discovered unearthly creatures or found magic stuff. Those kids didn't get freaked out about their discoveries. He'd never realized how brave they were—or how unreal.

He trudged back to his room.

“Hi, Cape,” he whispered as he closed the door.

“Well, I was just wondering something. Can you always hear my thoughts?”

Finch felt greatly relieved. He didn't want to have anyone listening to his thoughts all the time, even if that someone was a cape. He was pretty sure he didn't want to hear the cape talking all the time, either. “What if I left you home sometimes? Would I be able to hear you in school?”

Another good feature! Finch thought. To his delight, the Thinking Cape didn't seem to detect his comment. The automatic thought shield was definitely working.

“Great!” he said. “Do you want to watch a superhero DVD now? I've got a Batman and a Spider-Man.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Okay.”

“No,” Finch replied, although it did seem pretty gabby. Once again, he was grateful for the thought shield.

Finch swallowed. “What?”

Finch packed his book bag as quickly as he could and ran downstairs. His mom had agreed to drop him off again. She thought he wanted to be early because of his job as a crab keeper. But the truth was he felt as if he'd rather be at school than home alone with the cape. Besides, he needed to finish his math homework. Last night he'd been too antsy to concentrate on it.

Mr. Burns was standing on his head when Fin peeked into the classroom. Quietly, he backed away from the door. He didn't want to have to stand on his head, do the downward-facing dog, or admit that he hadn't finished his math assignment. For safety's sake, he decided to do it in the stairwell. As he walked down the hallway, he passed the teachers' room. The door was propped open. He took a quick look and saw his last year's teacher, Mrs. Rooney, getting coffee with Mrs. Goldstein, the school nurse.

Mrs. Goldstein waved. “Hi, Finny. How's the new baby brother?”

“He's okay—he's not so new anymore,” Finch said. Mrs. Goldstein had been calling him Finny since kindergarten. He wished she'd stop.

“Did you and your buddies write any more
Super Ferrets
comics this summer?” Mrs. Rooney asked.

“We're almost finished with one.”

“Well, bring it into my classroom when it's done. I'm sure the third graders would love to see it,” Mrs. Rooney said.

“Okay,” Finch agreed, although he wondered if they'd ever work on it again.

He passed the double doors of the gym next. The lights were on and he could hear the echoing sound of voices and the thudding of a ball. He glanced through the window in the door. The gym teacher, Mr. Fisher, was shooting baskets with the principal, Mr. Kutler, and Mr. Lacy, who taught the kids in special ed class. The three men often hung out together.

Fin pushed open the door to the stairwell and sat on the top step. He wondered if Mr. Burns played basketball. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Mr. Burns talk to any of the teachers yet. Maybe it was because he was shy. Or it could be because he was new. He wondered if being a new teacher at school was like being a new student. No one ever rushed up to welcome them. They just had to try not to stick out until they weren't so new anymore.

Fin reached into his bag for his math book and felt the soft cloth of the Thinking Cape. His heart jumped—he still wasn't used to it. But the cape was quiet. They'd stayed up late watching the movie. Probably it was sleeping now. Fin was tired, too, but he had no time for napping. He still had to take care of the hermies. He raced through the homework and hurried back down the hall toward his classroom.

Just as he was passing the boys' room, the door opened. Two hands seized him.

“Hey!”

Finch was trying to struggle free when a second pair of arms shot out and grabbed him, too. In a moment, he was pulled inside.

“You didn't think you were going to get away with hitting me, did you, Towelman?”

“It was an accident,” Finch said as Thorn pushed him up against the tiled wall. “I tripped. Your nose just got in the way. Besides, Mr. Burns already punished me. It's over.”

“Oh, I'm not punishing you. You're just going to have another accident,” Thorn said. “Only this time your nose is going to run into my fist.”

“Yeah, an accident!” Bud echoed as he leaned against the bathroom door to keep anyone else from coming in.

Finch tried to squirm away, but Thorn only pushed him harder against the wall. His hand was right below Fin's neck, pressing his collarbone so hard he had to fight back tears of pain.

At the sound of the cape's voice in his head, Finch took a breath. “I don't have time to fight now,” he said, trying to sound calm. “I've got to finish feeding the crabs or they'll get crabby. I'll fight you later.”

Thorn squinted into Finch's eyes. His hands let up a little.

“Besides, someone's going to want to go to the bathroom,” Finch continued quickly. “If they can't get in, they'll call Mr. Paul. We'll all get in trouble.” Mr. Paul was the custodian.

Thorn dropped his arms. “All right.”

All right? Finch pulled down his T-shirt. He couldn't believe Thorn had agreed so easily. It was like . . . magic! He reached around Bud for the doorknob.

Thorn's hand shot out and grabbed one of the straps of his backpack.

“Not so fast. You didn't say when we're going to fight. Or where.”

“Oh, right.” Finch scratched his head. “Cape? What should I tell him?” he asked silently.

“Well?” With his free hand, Thorn pounded the door above Finch's head.

Finch swallowed. “When it's time for lunch, don't go to the cafeteria. Go outside. The school yard will be empty.”

“Good thinking. I guess you don't want to eat first so you won't hurl your lunch.” Thorn grinned at his own joke.

“V-very funny!” Finch stammered. “I'll s-see you later.”

“Bye-bye, Towelman.” Thorn and Bud whooped with laughter as Finch hurried through the door.

“Thanks, Cape,” Finch whispered when he was out in the corridor.

Finch felt a little burst of pride. Then reality set in. “What about later? They still want to fight me.”

Finch stopped short. “Hold it! You mean those guys really are going to beat me up? I thought you were supposed to help solve problems.”

“Okay.” Finch gave up and headed for the nurse's office. Mrs. Goldstein was dropping pills into a paper cup.

“Hi, Finny, what's wrong?”

“Could I have a Band-Aid?” Finch held up a finger with a tiny cut he'd gotten from his ferrets' cage. “This really stings.”

“Sure.” Mrs. Goldstein reached into a cabinet.

“Er, could I have a few in case one gets dirty?”

The nurse handed Finch three Band-Aids. When he didn't leave, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Anything else?”

Finch cleared his throat. “Yes. I also need an ice pack, some crutches, and smelling salts.”

“What's going on? Are you planning to be injured?”

“No—the opposite. They're to prevent me from getting hurt.”

“I don't know, Fin. I think you need to talk to someone about this. A grown-up.”

“I already did—a really old, er, advice giver. Please, Mrs. Goldstein, I only need the stuff during lunch recess. I'll bring it back.”

The nurse rested her chin in her hand. With one finger, she reached up and tapped her cheek. “Well, okay. I don't know what you're up to, but I'm going to trust you. Stop in on your way to lunch. You'll have to forget about smelling salts, but you can have the crutches and the ice pack as long as you promise to return everything as soon as recess is over.”

“I promise. Thanks, Mrs. Goldstein.” Finch raced out of the office before she could change her mind.

When Finch finally got back to the classroom, he was relieved to see that the guys had arrived. He hurried to their cluster of desks to tell them what had happened.

Raj shook his head. “I can't believe the cape wants you to fight. It told us it could help solve problems by thinking.”

“Maybe it hasn't revealed the whole plan yet. It might still have something up its sleeve,” Elliott suggested.

“A cape doesn't have sleeves,” Kev reminded him.

Finch rubbed his collarbone. The ache he felt was just a taste of what was going to happen to him later—unless some miracle occurred. Because it didn't look like a thousand-year-old cape with rusty powers was going to be much help.

Suddenly he realized that Ms. Mitchell, the school secretary, was reading the morning announcements over the loudspeaker.

“. . . and Back to School Night is in two weeks. This year, for the first time ever, students are invited to accompany their parents.”

“Yuck,” Kev groaned.

“Yeah—who wants to come to school twice in one day?” Elliott agreed.

“Shh!” Chloe hissed. “I can't hear.”

“. . . In order to help things run smoothly, we're looking for a few students to be hospitality captains. It will be their job to help parents and pupils to get around the building, and to see that everyone follows our school rules. If you would like to volunteer, please come to the office.”

Mr. Burns raised his eyebrows. “Anyone want to be a hospitality captain?”

Three hands went up.

“Thorn, you're volunteering?” Mr. Burns sounded doubtful.

“Sure—I'm good at making people follow orders,” Thorn said.

Chloe twisted around in her seat. “That's not what Ms. Mitchell meant. You have to be a good host or hostess. I'm experienced. I always help my mother run her Diet Time meetings.”

“Ooh! Ooh!” Bud kept waving his hand.

“You want to volunteer too, Bud?” Mr. Burns asked.

Bud nodded. “Do the captains get to wear badges?”

“I don't know.” Mr. Burns took a slow, deep breath. “All right—you three may go to Ms. Mitchell's office.”

Finch winced. He could just imagine Thorn and Bud ordering the parents around: “Walk, don't run! Spit out that gum! No lingering in the hallways!” With Thorn and Bud as hospitality captains, Back to School Night was going to be more like a Back to School Nightmare. But maybe he wouldn't have to worry about it. He might be dead then, anyway.

When it was time for lunch, he grabbed his backpack and trudged toward the classroom door.

“Hey, dude, is something wrong?” Mr. Burns asked as Finch passed his desk. “You're looking pretty low.”

Finch hung his head. He sort of wished he could tell his teacher. But he had his pride—he didn't want to be a tattletale. Besides, Thorn and Bud would just pound him some other time. He wanted to get it over with.

Mr. Burns was waiting for him to answer. Fin racked his brain. “Anthony won't eat. I think maybe he's injured,” he blurted out. It was true. When he'd refilled the crabs' food dish, perky Phillip had scuttled right over. But Anthony had just stayed in a corner of the tank.

“It's really nice that you're concerned, Fin. But most hermit crabs eat at night. Anthony's probably been chowing down while you're asleep. Phil is unusual—the little pig will eat anytime.”

“Ohhh, right.” Finch pressed a hand to his forehead. “I read that on the Web—but I forgot. Thanks.”