25 - Attack of the Mutant (2 page)

So I opened my backpack and started pulling out my math notebook and my
science textbook and other stuff I needed.

I zipped through the math questions as fast as I could. I probably got most
of the problems wrong. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not any good at math, anyway.

Then I read the chapter on atoms and molecules in my science text. Reading
about molecules made me think about The Masked Mutant.

I couldn’t wait to get back to the comic book.

I finally finished my homework a little after nine-thirty. I had to skip a
few essay questions on the literature homework. But only the class brains answer
all
of the questions!

I went downstairs and fixed myself a bowl of Frosted Flakes, my favorite
late-night snack. Then I said good-night to my parents and hurried back up to my
room, closing the door behind me, eager to get back in bed and start reading.

Back under the ocean. SpongeLife escaped by squishing himself so small, he
slipped out of the octopus’ tentacles. Pretty cool, I thought.

The Masked Mutant waved his tentacles angrily and vowed he’d get SpongeLife
another day. Then he changed his molecules back so he looked like himself, and
flew back to his headquarters.

His headquarters!

I stared down at the comic book in shock.

The secret headquarters of The Masked Mutant had never been shown before. Oh,
sure, we’d been given glimpses of a room or two on the inside.

But this was the first time the building had ever been shown from the
outside.

I brought the page up close to my face and examined it carefully. “What a
weird place!” I exclaimed out loud.

The headquarters building didn’t look like any building I had ever seen
before. It certainly didn’t look like the secret hideout of the world’s worst
villain.

It kind of looked like a giant fire hydrant. A very tall fire hydrant that
reached up to the sky. All pink stucco with a huge, green-domed roof.

“Weird,” I repeated.

But of course it was the perfect hiding place. Who would ever think that the
super bad guy of all time stayed in a building that looked like an enormous pink
fire hydrant?

I turned the page. The Masked Mutant slipped into the building and
disappeared into an elevator. He rode all the way to the top and stepped out
into his private communications center.

Waiting for him there was… a big surprise. A dark figure. We could see
only his black silhouette.

But I could tell instantly who it was. It was The Galloping Gazelle, leader
of The League of Good Guys.

How did The Gazelle get in? What was he about to do?

To be continued next month.

Wow. I closed the comic. My eyelids felt heavy. My eyes were too tired to
read the tiny type on the Letters page. I decided to save it for tomorrow.

Yawning, I carefully set the comic book down on my bed table. I fell asleep
before my head hit the pillow.

Two days later, a very cold, clear day, Wilson came running up to me after
school. His blue coat was unzipped. He never zipped his coat. He didn’t like the
way it looked when it was zipped.

I had on a shirt, a sweater, and a heavy, quilted, down coat, zipped up to my
chin—and I was still cold. “What’s up, Wilson?” I asked.

His breath steamed up in front of him. “Want to come over and see my rubber
stamp collection?”

Was he
kidding
?

“I have to go to my orthodontist,” I told him. “My braces got comfortable. He
has to tighten them so they’ll hurt again.”

Wilson nodded. His blue eyes matched his coat. “How are you getting there?”

I pointed to the bus stop. “City bus,” I told him.

“I’ve seen you take that bus a lot,” he said.

“There’s a comic book store on Goodale Street,” I replied, shifting my
backpack onto the other shoulder. “I take the bus there once a week or so to see
what new comics have come out. The orthodontist is just a few blocks from it.”

“Do they have rubber stamps at the comic book store?” Wilson asked.

“I don’t think so,” I told him. I saw the blue-and-white city bus turn the
corner. “Got to run. See you later!” I called.

I turned and ran full speed to the bus stop.

The driver was a nice guy. He saw me running and waited for me. Breathing
hard, I thanked him and climbed on to the bus.

I probably wouldn’t have thanked him if I had known where this bus was going
to take me. But I didn’t know that it was carrying me to the most frightening
adventure of my life.

The bus was unusually crowded. I stood for a while. Then two people got off,
and I slid into a seat.

As the bus bounced along Main Street, I stared out at the passing houses and
front yards. Dark clouds hung low over the roofs. I wondered if we were about to
get our first snowfall of the winter.

The comic book store was a few blocks away. I checked my watch, thinking
maybe I had time to stop there before my orthodontist appointment. But no. No
time for comics today.

“Hey, do you go to Franklin?” A girl’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned to see that a girl had taken the seat beside me. Her carrot-colored
hair was tied back in a single braid. She had green eyes and light freckles on
her nose.

She wore a heavy, blue-and-red-plaid ski sweater over faded jeans. She held
her red canvas backpack in her lap.

“Yeah. I go there,” I replied.

“How is it?” she asked. She narrowed her green eyes at me as if checking me
out.

“It’s okay,” I told her.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Skipper,” I told her.

She snickered. “That’s not a real name, is it?”

“It’s what everyone calls me,” I said.

“Do you live on a boat or something?” she asked. Her eyes crinkled up. I
could see she was laughing at me.

I guess Skipper is kind of a dumb name. But I’ve gotten used to it. I like it
a lot better than my real name—Bradley.

“When I was a little kid, I was always in a hurry,” I told her. “So I used to
skip a lot. That’s why they started calling me Skipper.”

“Cute,” she replied with a smirk.

I don’t think I like this girl, I told myself. “What’s your name?” I asked
her.

“Skipper,” she replied, grinning. “Same as yours.”

“No. Really,” I insisted.

“It’s Libby,” she said finally. “Libby Zacks.” She stared past me out the
window. The bus stopped for a red light. A baby started crying in the back.

“Where are you going?” Libby asked me. “Home?”

I didn’t want to tell her I had an orthodontist appointment. That was too geeky. “I’m going to a comic book store,” I said.
“The one on Goodale.”

“You collect comics?” She sounded surprised. “So do I.”

It was my turn to be surprised. Most of the comic book collectors I know are
boys. “What kind do you collect?” I asked.

“High School Harry & Beanhead,”
she replied. “I collect all the
digest-sized ones and some of the regular ones, too.”

“Yuck.” I made a face. “High School Harry and his pal Beanhead? Those comics
stink.”

“They do not!” Libby insisted.

“Those are for babies,” I muttered. “They’re not real comics.”

“They’re very well written,” Libby replied. “And they’re funny.” She stuck
her tongue out at me. “Maybe you just don’t get them.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” I said, rolling my eyes.

I gazed out the window. The sky had grown darker. I didn’t recognize any of
the stores. I saw a restaurant called Pearl’s and a tiny barbershop. Had we
passed the comic book store?

Libby folded her hands over her red backpack. “What do you collect? All that
superhero junk?”

“Yeah,” I told her. “My collection is worth about a thousand dollars. Maybe
two thousand.”

“In your dreams,” she shot back. She laughed.

“
High School Harry
comics never go up in value,” I informed her. “Even
the Number Ones are worthless. You couldn’t get five dollars for your whole collection.”

“Why would I want to sell them?” she argued. “I don’t want to sell them. And
I don’t care what they’re worth. I just like to read them.”

“Then you’re not a real collector,” I said.

“Are all the boys at Franklin like you?” Libby asked.

“No. I’m the coolest one,” I declared.

We both laughed.

I still couldn’t decide if I liked her or not. She was pretty cute-looking.
And she was funny, in a nasty sort of way.

I stopped laughing when I glanced out the window and realized I had
definitely passed my stop. I saw the bare trees of a small park I’d never seen
before. The bus rumbled past it, and more unfamiliar stores came into view.

I felt a sudden stab of panic in my chest. I didn’t know this neighborhood at
all.

I pushed the bell and jumped to my feet.

“What’s your problem?” Libby demanded.

“My stop. I m-missed it,” I stammered.

She moved her legs into the aisle so that I could squeeze past. The bus
squealed to a stop. I called out good-bye and hurried out the back door.

Where am I? I asked myself, glancing around. Why did I let myself get into an
argument with that girl? Why didn’t I pay attention instead?

“Are you lost?” a voice asked.

I turned and saw to my surprise that Libby had followed me off the bus. “What
are
you
doing here?” I blurted out.

“It’s my stop,” she replied. “I live two blocks down that way.” She pointed.

“I have to go back,” I said, turning to leave.

And as I turned, something came into view that made my breath catch in my
throat.

“Ohh.” I let out a startled cry and stared across the street. “But—that’s
impossible
!” I exclaimed.

I was staring at a tall building on the other corner. A tall, pink stucco
building with a bright green, domed roof.

I was staring at the secret headquarters of The Masked Mutant.

“Skipper—what’s wrong?” Libby cried.

I couldn’t answer her. I stared goggle-eyed at the building across the
street. My mouth dropped open. My jaw nearly hit my knees!

I raised my eyes to the bright green roof. Then I slowly lowered them over
the shiny pink walls. I had never seen colors like these in real life. They were
comic book colors.

It was a comic book building.

But here it was, standing on the corner across the street.

“Skipper? Are you okay?” Libby’s voice sounded far away.

It’s real! I told myself. The secret headquarters building of The Masked
Mutant is real!

Or is it?

Two hands shook me by the shoulders, snapping me out of my amazed thoughts.
“Skipper! Are you in shock or something?”

“Th-that building!” I stammered.

“Isn’t that the ugliest thing you ever saw?” Libby asked, shaking her head.
She pushed back her carrot-colored braid and hiked her backpack onto her
shoulder.

“But it—it’s—” I still couldn’t speak.

“My dad says the architect had to be color blind,” Libby said. “It doesn’t
even look like a building. It looks like a blimp standing on its end.”

“How long has it been there?” I asked, my eyes studying the glass doors that
were the only entrance.

Libby shrugged. “I don’t know. My family just moved here last spring. It was
already here.”

The clouds darkened overhead. A cold wind swirled around the corner.

“Who do you think works in there?” Libby asked. “There’s no sign or anything
on the building.”

Of
course
there’s no sign, I thought. It’s the secret headquarters of
the world’s most evil villain. There’s no way The Masked Mutant would put a sign
out front!

He doesn’t want The League of Good Guys to find his secret headquarters, I
told myself.

“This is crazy!” I cried.

I turned and saw Libby staring at me. “You sure you’re okay? It’s just a
building, Skipper. No need to go ballistic.”

I could feel my face turning red. Libby must think I’m some kind of a nut, I
realized. “I—I think I saw this building somewhere,” I tried to explain.

“I’ve got to get home,” she said, glancing up at the darkening sky. “Want to
come over? I’ll show you my comic book collection.”

“No. I’m late for my orthodontist appointment,” I replied.

“Huh?” She narrowed her green eyes at me. “You said you were going to a comic
book store.”

I could feel my face turning even redder. “Uh… I’m going to the comic
book store
after
my appointment,” I told her.

“How long have you had your braces?” she asked.

I groaned. “Forever.”

She started backing away. “Well, see you sometime.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

She turned and jogged down the street. She must think I’m a total geek, I
thought unhappily.

But I couldn’t help it. I really was in shock, seeing that building. I turned
back to it. The top of the building had become hidden by the lowering clouds.
Now the building looked like a sleek, pink rocket ship, reaching up to the
clouds.

A moving truck rumbled past. I waited for it to go by, then hurried across
the street.

There was no one on the sidewalk. I hadn’t seen anyone go into the building
or come out of it.

It’s just a big office building, I told myself. Nothing to get excited about.

But my heart was pounding as I stopped a few feet from the glass doors at the
entrance. I took a deep breath and peeked in.

I know it’s crazy, but I really expected to see people wearing superhero
costumes walking around in there.

I narrowed my eyes and squinted through the glass doors.

I couldn’t see anyone. It appeared dark inside.

I took a step closer. Then another.

I brought my face right up to the glass and peered in. I could see a wide
lobby. Pink-and-yellow walls. A row of elevators near the back.