by David Estes
Chapter Twenty-Four: From hero to zero
Nikki landed behind the tool shed in her backyard and changed out of her Nikki Powergloves outfit. She went straight to Spencer’s place. He apparently hadn’t left the house while she was gone, which was not that surprising considering she had only been gone for an hour.
“An hour?” Nikki questioned. “It feels like I’ve been gone all day. Being a superhero is hard work.”
“I saw you on the news—it was live. Wowsers!” Spencer said.
“And? How’d I do?”
“You were great, Nikki, especially when you were dealing with that annoying Susan Hughes from the Crag. What a dunce!” The Cragglyville Daily, or “the Crag”, as everyone called it, was the local newspaper.
“Do you think she will print anything bad about me?”
“I don’t see how she could. You saved the day. Cha-ching!”
“I don’t know, Spencer. It seems like she’s out to get me.”
“I wouldn’t worry about her. We have more important things to deal with.”
“Like what? Washing my outfit? It kind of smells like stale pond water.” Nikki went on to tell Spencer the rest of the story and how she had cleverly disposed of the bomb in the lake.
“That was brilliant, Nikks! But now it’s my turn. You got another e-mail from Jimmy while you were gone.” He flipped open Nikki’s laptop and read:
“Dear NP,
I love your new name! Who came up with that, you or Spencer? I would guess it was Spencer, he seems to be the brains of the operation. Now listen here, if you won’t meet me, then you will have to keep saving people around town. The bomb that you so miraculously handled today was planted by me. You are probably asking yourself, how could a nine-year-old boy like me install a sophisticated explosive device in a fortified steel vault in a bank? Let’s just say, I have powers too, Nikki. So, whaddya say, should we meet, or should I continue to terrorize your precious town of Cragglyville?
Yours truly,
JP”
The anger boiled up inside of Nikki’s stomach and erupted into her head. There was practically steam coming out of her ears. “Give me the computer, Spencer,” she ordered.
“Now wait just one second, Nikks, we need to think about this logically before we do anything rash. I know you are angry, but we need to be smart about this or things could get really bad.”
Nikki took a few deep breaths and was gradually able to relax. “Okay, I’m calm. Let’s talk about it. My first question is: why did he sign his name ‘JP’? Up until now he has called himself Jimmy, and his calling card in San Francisco said ‘Jimmy- Boy Wonder’. Maybe he’s giving us a clue as to his last name by showing his initials.”
“I doubt it. Clearly the ‘J’ is for Jimmy, but wait a minute, I wonder…” he trailed off.
“What, Spence?”
“Well, in his latest e-mail he addressed you as ‘NP’ for ‘Nikki Powergloves’, and now he signs his name as ‘JP’, which I would expect means ‘Jimmy Power…something’. He said he has seen a Weeble just like you have, and he mentions in his e-mail that he has powers, too. Maybe he has powergloves just like you!”
“But you think he just chooses to use his powers for evil?”
“Possibly. And his powers may be completely different than yours. He seems to be able to do things that might be harder for you, like planting a bomb in a vault. But maybe he doesn’t have a lot of the powers that you have, like super-strength and super-speed.”
Nikki had heard enough, she was ready to respond. She typed:
“Hi Jimmy Power_______,
Bring it on.
NP”
They waited for Jimmy’s response, but it never came. Eventually they became bored and spent the afternoon watching the news. At first, most of the coverage was pretty positive, with the reporters talking about how Nikki had saved the day. The bank manager was interviewed and he poured out numerous compliments about what a fine young citizen Nikki Powergloves was, and how he wished there were more like her in Cragglyville. Nikki’s cheeks went red at all of the attention, but was happy to hear it. She felt like a true hero.
It wasn’t until Stephen Wallace showed up at the site of the explosion that things started to go badly. He began by interviewing the angry farmer. “This is Stephen Wallace with Channel 7 News. I have with me Mr. Cameron, who owns a farm about a mile from town. Would you tell me what happened here, sir?”
The camera zoomed in on a gruff-looking man with a massive beard. He was wearing blue overalls and big black boots. He was covered from head to foot with dirt. “I’ll tell yer exactly what happen’d ‘ere. I’s mindin’ my own business, tryin’ to take a break from a mornin’ of back breakin’ work, when I see, off yonder by the pond, a little pipsqueak of a girl, luggin’ a big ol’ block of ice into my pond. I watched ‘er out my window as she jumped in my pond, swam that there ice into the middle of my lake and sunk it. She swam back to shore and I was about to go back to my relaxin’ when I hear an explosion like yer ain’t never heard in your life, I can promise yer that. It all happened real quick, like someone had pressed fast forward on the remote. An’ I couldn’t move while she was doin’ it, like I was frozen.
“I ran out to try ‘n catch ‘er, but she flew off like a dang bird. It was the darndest thing I ever saw.”
Stephen Wallace nodded. “And how do you feel now, sir?”
“I’m angry, of course I am. Look at what she’s done to my poor fish,” he waved his hand across the width of the pond in the background. The cameraman panned across the lake. Dozens of dead fish had risen to the surface and now floated up and down, like apples bobbing in a barrel at some Halloween party.
“But don’t you think the girl deserves some credit? She did save a lot of lives today,” Wallace challenged.
“Sure she does,” the farmer answered, “but she also needs to take responsibility for ‘er actions. I’m sure there are plenty of other places she could have taken that there bomb, rather than my pond.”
Before Wallace could ask another question, there was a screeching sound and a fog of dust clouded the scene. The camera turned and zoomed in on a green van that had pulled into the drive and parked next to the TV equipment. Through the dusty haze, the picture showed that stenciled on the side of the van in blue lettering was, “Environmental Protection Council”.
Out jumped three people: two men and one woman. They strode over to where the interview was being conducted and flanked Stephen Wallace. The farmer looked embarrassed and slunk out of the picture, as far away from the camera as he could get.
Wallace looked surprised by the intrusion, but he recovered by asking, “What brings the EPC to Cragglyville?”
A man with a dark mustache, who was wearing a cowboy’s hat, answered, “We heard about the environmental disaster here at this poor farm, and we felt we needed to act. Dark is the day when an attack on the environment, like the one we had today, goes unpunished.”
Wallace sounded like a parrot as he repeated the same question he had posed to the farmer just a few minutes earlier. “But don’t you think the girl deserves some credit? Her quick actions saved lives today.”
A woman with a long braid, a long nose, and a long chin responded by saying, “Yes, of course, she saved some lives, but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be held accountable for the way in which she saved those lives. She had a complete disregard for the environment and for that, she will face the full resources of the Environmental Protection Council.”
The TV turned off and Nikki turned to see Spencer holding the remote control. “Hey! I was watching that!” she said.
“Well, I say we are done watching that nonsense. These goobers are unbelievable! You save all those people from a quick and explosive death, and they try to treat you like a common criminal! I won’t stand for it, Nikki. I’m going to march right down to Town Hall and demand that a parade be held in your honor! Holy cow!”
Nikki waited until Spencer had
finished his tirade before saying, “Thanks, Spence. I really do appreciate the thought, but it’s really not necessary. They’re probably right, I should have thought about what I was doing before blowing up a bomb in some poor farmer’s lake. This is our home town and we need to treat it with respect. After all, we have so many happy memories here. Tomorrow, Nikki Powergloves will make a public appearance. I will see what I can do to help clean up the mess, and hopefully the environmental people will drop the charges.”
“But you did nothing wrong! It’s not fair, Nikks.”
“Maybe so, but it’s the right thing to do, Spence. If I want the people to like me and think of me as a true superhero, I have to listen to their concerns.”
Spencer didn’t look convinced, but he said, “Okay, you’re the Big-Boss-Man.”
Trying to change the subject, Nikki said, “Let’s check to see if Jimmy has responded yet.”
Spencer opened the laptop and located Nikki’s e-mail program. Handing it to her, he said, “You do it.”
She clicked the button for “Send/Receive” and a new message popped up.
“NP,
How are you feeling? I’ve been watching the news and people around there don’t seem to like you too much. This is the way it always starts and trust me, I have a lot more experience than you in this area. You’ll try so hard to get them to like you, but guess what? They never will. Every good thing you do will be thrown back in your face. They will treat you like a villain, instead of the hero you really are. We are a lot alike, Nikki, you just don’t see it yet. But since you asked me to ‘bring it on’, I will. Hopefully after this next one, you will agree to meet me, and you will understand why I do what I do. Good luck.
JP
P.S. Wouldn’t it be a shame if something happened over at Farmer Miller’s place?”
After reading the last line of the message, Nikki jumped up. “I gotta go, Spence. Farmer Miller is in trouble!”
“Wait a minute, can’t you just stay here until the powerbracelet lights up? Jimmy might not even do anything today.”
“The bracelet is useful, but it doesn’t tell me until after something has already happened, like a cat getting stuck in a tree or a bomb being planted in a vault. I want to be there before Jimmy does anything so I can stop him completely, rather than just trying to clean up the mess afterwards.”
Spencer knew she was right, so he gave up the argument and instead, gave his friend a hug and said, “Be careful, Nikki, this kid is very dangerous.”
She hugged him back and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ll come back as soon as it is over.” She went into the other room and moments later emerged as Nikki Powergloves—she was ready for action. In her hands were two gloves: one light blue and one gray. Slipping on the flying glove, she said, “I’ll start with flying and invisibility, and hopefully I can surprise him. Later I can switch to whichever gloves I need to stop him.”
She put on the gray glove and, instantly, her body was gone, but her voice was still there. “Bye, Spencer,” she said. He followed her footsteps to the back door and watched as it opened, seemingly on its own. Before closing the door, Spencer yelled, “I’ll picture you rocketing into the sky—Nikki Powergloves to the rescue!”
