Zero to Hero (11 page)

Billy had to laugh. If he had to have his own personal ghost, Hoover Porterhouse was not a bad choice. He certainly was a lot of fun.

“Do you mind if I fly on ahead?” the Hoove asked Billy when they were still a block away
from school. “I want to get there before you and check out the grounds. See where everything is. Get my game face on.”

“Go right ahead,” Billy said.

“So cough up the blankie,” the Hoove said, holding out his hand. “I’m going to take it on a practice run up the flagpole, just to make sure there are no last-minute glitches.”

Billy unzipped his backpack and pulled the swatch of blue blanket out of its box. The Hoove wadded it up tightly so that it was no bigger than a marble. As he flew off, he whistled “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad,” and it actually worked this time, making him invisible even to Billy. All he could see of the Hoove was the little blue ball of blanket traveling through the air, looking like a dandelion floating in the breeze.

Billy was actually relieved to be free of the Hoove for a while. He had to focus on what he was about to do. The old doubts were creeping in again, and he had to overcome them. This was no time to be soft on Rod Brownstone. Billy knew his reputation was at stake. Was he
forever going to be the good little boy or was he finally going to stand up for himself?

He forced himself to concentrate on what the Hoove had taught him … that the only way to fight a bully was to out-bully him. He repeated that sentence over and over and over again as he turned the corner and walked up the steps and through the doors of Moorepark Middle School.

The trophy case was located in the main hall between the principal’s office and the attendance office. Every kid in school had to pass by it on the way to class. Billy approached the case cautiously, looking both ways down the hall. His stomach was doing somersaults as his mind began to grasp the risk he was about to take. It was not going to be easy to put the note up without being seen. He was going to have to look casual, like he was really interested in examining the school’s athletic history, and at the same time, tape the note to the glass as quickly as he could.

Billy reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt. He pulled out the roll of Scotch tape he had hidden there, and did exactly what he had practiced the night before, pulling off four equal
strips that he attached to the tips of four of his fingers. Looking intently at the case, as though he had never seen a trophy before, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out the flyer, neatly folded into fourths. He looked around and noticed Ricardo Perez walking up to him.

Oh no
, he thought to himself.
He’s onto me. How could he possibly know what I’m doing?

“Hey, man,” Ricardo said to Billy. “You coming to baseball practice today?”

“Absolutely,” Billy answered, stuffing his hand with the Scotch tape strips into his pocket. He was glad that Ricardo hadn’t put out his hand for a high five. That would have been a very sticky situation.

“Got your gear?” Ricardo asked.

“Oh yeah. I have a whole plastic baggy full of pencils, a sharpener, and a new score pad.”

Ricardo squinted at Billy. “I thought you wanted to make the team,” he said. “Leave the pencils in your backpack, dude. Show the coach you’re a player.”

Ordinarily, Billy would have welcomed this advice, but at the moment, all he wanted was for Ricardo to leave so he could get on with his mission.

“Thanks for the tip,” Billy said. “I’ll see you later. No pencils. That’s a deal.”

Ricardo nodded and walked off, joining some other members of the team as they headed for homeroom. Billy had to act fast, before anyone else noticed he was hanging around the display case. He unfolded the flyer and pulled his hand with the tape strips from his pocket. Unfortunately, all the strips stayed behind, having adhered to the inside fabric. Billy had no choice but to pull the roll of Scotch tape out and start all over again. His hands were shaking as he tore off four more strips.

“Move fast,” he said to himself. “Like a Scotch tape ninja.”

That didn’t make much sense, but the image did the trick for Billy. He deftly tore off the four strips and was just about to put the flyer in place against the glass, when he felt someone
tapping on his shoulder. Billy spun around to see none other than Rod Brownstone standing next to him.

“Hey, Broccoli, back off the glass. You’re leaving breath marks. Some of those trophies are mine, and I don’t want you contaminating the display.”

Billy looked at Rod and realized that he looked a mess. His usually combed black hair was tangled. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his clothes looked slept in.

“You’re not looking too good this morning,” Billy said to him. “Have a rough night?”

“I couldn’t sleep. What’s it to you?”

Billy shot him a mysterious little smile.

“Word on the street is that you lost something,” he said.

“How do you know?” Rod answered. “Tell me the truth, Broccoli, or I’ll lock you in this case and throw away the key.”

“Really, Rod? Are you all that tough? Because I never heard of a tough guy needing his” — and now Billy lowered his voice to a whisper — “baby blankie.”

“How do you know about that? Have you been spying on me?”

“If I did, I learned from the master. You’re not the only one with intel.”

All the color drained out of Rod’s face. Suddenly, he didn’t look so tough anymore. In fact, he looked scared. With newfound courage, Billy took advantage of the moment.

“Tell me, Rod,” he said with a grin. “Do you suck your thumb, too, or is rubbing Blankie on your nose all you need to put you to sleep?”

“You saw me?”

“Personally, no. But my source tells me you don’t look like much of a football player when you’re all curled up with Mr. Blankie.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone about this, are you, Broccoli?”

“No, I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m just going to invite everyone to view it. To see a piece of the great Rod Brownstone’s cute little blue satin baby blanket.”

“You have it? So you’re the one who stole it?”

“No, actually, I’ve never even been in your room. But I have my own unique way of acquiring evidence.”

“You’re a thief,” Rod said.

“No, that would be you — who took the tonsil jar right out of my room and brought it to school to humiliate me. So now I’m going to return the favor and humiliate you right back.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Rod said, moving his hulking body right up next to Billy, getting in his face in a threatening way. “Hand it over, toadface, or I’ll flatten you into a pancake.”

But for the first time in his life, Billy wasn’t backing down. He thought of what the Hoove had taught him — that he had to face this guy once and for all. Now all he wanted was to stand his ground and make Rod feel the embarrassment and shame he had felt.

“You’re too late, Rod, because it’s almost done. The plan is in motion. See this note? It tells the entire student body to go outside and see your little blankie, which in a few minutes
is going to be hoisted to the top of the flagpole.”

“This will ruin me,” Rod groaned.

“Oh, really? Just like you ruined me when you took my tonsil and made me the laughingstock of the school?”

“That was different.”

“How do you figure that? Because it happened to me? That’s the trouble with creeps like you. You don’t care that you made me feel bad, that everyone made fun of me. Well, now you’re going to know what it feels like. And trust me, Brownstone, it doesn’t feel good.”

“Don’t do this, Broccoli. I’ll do anything if you just keep quiet and give me the blanket back.”

This offer caught Billy quite by surprise. It had never occurred to him that he could turn this terrible situation into something positive. Suddenly, an entirely different plan popped into his mind.

“I might consider halting the plan under certain circumstances,” he said to Rod. “If you meet my demands, I will take this flyer and give
it to you. No one ever has to know about our little secret.”

“Tell me what you want,” Rod begged. Billy thought it looked like he was about to cry. He had Rod right where he wanted him.

“First, I want you to tell Ruby Baker that the whole thing was your idea. That you planted the tonsil in front of her. That you wrote the note.”

“Okay,” Rod said. “She’s in my first-period class. I’ll go tell her right away.”

He started to leave, but Billy grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.

“I’m not finished yet,” he said. “Second, and most important, I want a public, all-school apology.”

“What do you want me to do?” Rod was whining now. “Go up to every student and individually tell them? I can’t do that.”

“We happen to have a very fine public address system in this school.” Billy smiled. “And I have an in with the principal. I think I might be able to talk her into letting you use it.”

“I can’t,” Rod said.

“Fine, that’s your choice,” Billy said. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go outside to the flagpole and fly something that’s very close to you from the top of it.”

Billy turned and started down the hall toward the front door. Before he had taken five full steps, he felt Rod’s hand on his shoulder.

“You win,” Rod said. “I’ll do it. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it. Now give me Blankie back.”

“I’ll meet you back here in five minutes,” Billy said. “I have to find my source to get it back. He prefers his identity to remain secret.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said, Brownstone? I told you to stay here, and I’m not kidding. That’s part of the deal.”

Rod started to pace back and forth, biting his nails and spitting out the clippings. Billy left him there and ran down the hall toward the front door. He felt like Superman without the cape. He had done it. He had surprised himself and stood up for what he knew was right. And
he did it without becoming just like Rod. That felt powerful indeed.

Billy heard the bell ring as he ran down the front steps, two at a time. That meant he’d be late to homeroom, but in this case, it was a good thing. Everyone else would be in class, and he could talk to the Hoove without being seen. He looked around and saw no one.

“Hoove!” he called out. “Make yourself visible.”

Billy heard a whistling from around the top of the flagpole. It was the familiar tune that he was beginning to get accustomed to — “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” Billy looked up and saw the Hoove start to appear in stages … first his belly, which looked pretty weird floating up there by itself. Then his right leg, followed by his neck and the other leg.

“Stop messing around and concentrate,” Billy called to him. “I need to talk to you …
all
of you.”

“Trust me, this is the best I can do,” the Hoove said. Then he whistled a little more, and
suddenly, the rest of his body and his face appeared. He was sitting on the brass ball on top of the flagpole.

“Get down here,” Billy called to him. “And bring the blanket with you. There’s been a change of plans.”

The Hoove slid down the pole, letting out a playful whoop as he did. When he reached the ground, he floated over to Billy and snapped his suspenders.

“I should have been a fireman,” he said. “Turns out I’m good at pole sliding.”

“Hand over the blanket,” Billy said, talking very quickly. “We’re giving it back. Rod is waiting for me at the trophy case, practically biting his finger off.”

The Hoove looked extremely distressed. “You caved in to that bully. What’d he do, threaten you? I’m going in there to take care of him once and for all.”

The Hoove took off, gliding through the air toward the school entrance.

“I didn’t cave,” Billy called after him. “I got
exactly what I wanted. He’s going to tell Ruby I didn’t give her the tonsil, and apologize to the whole school over the loudspeaker.”

The Hoove came to a sudden stop, as though he had slammed on an invisible brake.

“Wait a minute,” he said, flying back to where Billy was standing. “That’s good. Very good. How’d you do that?”

“With your help. I could never have convinced him without you flying through walls to get the blanket for me. You got the plan started.”

“That I did.”

“And I finished it. With style, I might add. Just like you taught me.”

“Like I always say, the Hoove’s rules rule.”

“You showed me how to believe in myself, Hoove. And that made me able to stand up to Rod. Before I met you, I didn’t even think this was possible. And now look. I got the guy begging for his Blankie back.”

Hoover tucked the little piece of blanket into his pocket.

“Well, he’s not getting it back. We were on the way to bringing the big boy down, Billy. Can’t we just let it flap in the breeze for a little while?”

“I gave him my word. Now give it to me, Hoove.”

“I want you to know that my entire body, or lack of body, is vibrating against this decision.”

“I know, Hoove. But trust me, for a change. It’s the right thing to do.”

“That does not come easy to me.”

Billy looked the Hoove right in the eye until the Hoove couldn’t stand it anymore. Slowly, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the little blue wad of blanket.

“We could have had such fun together,” he said to the blanket. Then he handed it over to Billy.

No sooner was the blanket in Billy’s hand than there was a roar of an airplane overhead. Billy and Hoover looked up. There was no airplane to be seen, but written in the sky, in a trail of white smoke, were the words:

HELPING OTHERS: SHOWS IMPROVEMENT.

And as suddenly as those words appeared, they were gone.

“Look at that,” the Hoove said. “There’s hope for me. That’s the best report card I’ve ever gotten.”

“Stick with me,” Billy said.

“What choice do I have?” the Hoove answered. “You’re my assignment.”

As Billy stuffed the blanket into his pocket and hurried up the stairs to school, the Hoove hovered in midair, watching him go. He noticed a look of confidence about Billy, an attitude he hadn’t seen before.