by Matthew Cody
“Is your nurse pretty?”
“My nurse’s name is Ralph.”
“Oh. So … no?”
“No!” Daniel smiled in spite of himself, and Rohan looked pleased with his little joke. Things were suddenly easier between the two of them.
“So, have you talked to Mollie?” asked Daniel.
“Talked? No, not so much. Dodged—yes. At the bus stop she pretends I’m not even there, which was kind of a relief at first—at least she’s no longer taking swings at me—but by now it’s getting old.
“Daniel,” Rohan went on, turning serious, “you know why I did it, right? Why I stopped her from helping?”
Daniel nodded.
Rohan continued, “She wouldn’t have been able to help you. She would’ve ended up just like Simon.”
“Yeah, I know. Mollie knows, too; that’s probably why she’s so mad at you right now. She hates it when other people are right.”
“If it’s any consolation, she gave me one heck of a black eye for my trouble.” Rohan took off his glasses, and Daniel could see the faint outline of a yellow and blue bruise under Rohan’s left eye. “You should have seen it a week ago. I looked like a prizefighter.”
“A prizefighter who gets beaten by girls,” Daniel teased.
“Well, yes. But mean girls. Very mean.”
“Speaking of trouble—is Eric mad?”
“About what? As far as he knows, you were camping out with Mollie and me and you climbed the wrong tree.”
“You mean … you lied to him?”
“I am withholding certain details of the truth until I get all the facts. There’s no need to upset him until we know exactly what happened. And I was hoping you could tell me that. What happened at Simon’s window? What’d you see, Daniel?”
And so Daniel recounted what he saw in Simon’s bedroom that night—the darkness, the shadow that moved. Daniel was surprised at how hard it was to say it out loud for the first time, but he immediately felt better for having done it. Through it all, Rohan listened attentively, never interrupting, but Daniel did see his eyes go wide several times. It was affecting him, too. Rohan, who was always so calm, so unflappable, was afraid.
“I actually wondered if you saw anything, with your powers. I thought you might’ve …”
Rohan shook his head. “Trees were in the way. I can’t see through things, you know. Plus, I was kinda busy getting punched in the face.”
Rohan got up from his seat and started pacing the room.
“Proof. We need proof,” he said.
“For what?”
“To convince Eric that what you saw wasn’t simply your own shadow on the wall, that your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. Because I’m telling you, it’ll take some hard and fast evidence to make Eric take this seriously.”
“Well, what about the camera? I was taking pictures the whole time….”
But Rohan was shaking his head again. “Yeah, we found it.”
Rohan reached into his jacket and pulled out a stack of photographs. They were all the same—a mass of shadows and blurred images. Whatever that thing was in Simon’s room, it wasn’t easily captured on camera.
Daniel’s hopes sank. It seemed that everything he’d done that night had been a waste of time.
“Rohan, I thought you were with Eric on all of this—obey the Rules and all. Accept what fate has in store for you, remember?”
Rohan looked at his friend. “I listened to you and I can tell you’re telling the truth, Daniel. And to be honest, what you saw scares me.
“But maybe it was destiny that sent you to Noble’s Green. So maybe it’s our destiny to stop this—whatever it is—from ruining another kid’s life.” Rohan smiled a wicked smile. “Maybe it’s our destiny to kick some butt.”
Daniel laughed. Just when he thought he had his friend figured out, Rohan managed to surprise him.
“But we are going to need Eric.” Rohan was serious again. “And, like I said—for that we need some real evidence.”
Daniel tried to kick away the sheets in frustration, but as he did so, the stack of Johnny Noble comics began to slide off his lap and onto the floor. He reached over to stop them, but all he managed was to bump his cast against the bed rail. He winced as a jolt of pain went up his arm. This was going to take some getting used to.
“Here, let me get those,” offered Rohan.
“Thanks,” said Daniel, gesturing weakly with his broken wing. “Guess I’m not going to be much use for a while.”
“Not so fast. If we’re going to convince Eric before his birthday, then we are going to need you to do what you do best.”
“Which is?”
“You’re a detective, aren’t you?” said Rohan, handing the books back to him. “Time to do some detecting.”
Chapter Eleven
Written and Drawn by Herman Plunkett
The day after Daniel came home from the hospital, Gram went in. Gram’s last chemo treatment had been especially strong, and she was now suffering from what his father described as “a sluggish immune system”—which meant that she was so weak that even a common cold could be dangerous. The doctors moved her to a special wing of the hospital where no visitors under fourteen were allowed. Until she got stronger, Daniel and Georgie wouldn’t be able to visit her, but their mom went to the hospital every day and their father visited every evening.
Daniel missed her terribly. With Gram gone and his parents spending so much time up at the hospital, the old house seemed emptier, lonelier. His parents were obviously exhausted, though they tried not to show it. And seeing how tired they were, how much pressure the two of them were under, it was hard not to feel guilty about hurting himself. His parents thought that he had broken his arm in a stargazing accident—he told them that he had leaned too far out Simon’s window and lost his balance. He felt bad about lying, but there was no way to tell them the truth without putting the Supers in danger—not that his parents would have believed him anyway. They had enough to worry about with Gram; they didn’t need Daniel’s crazy heroics adding to their stress.
So Daniel found himself with time on his hands—the doctors had told him to stay home from school for another week. In that time Georgie discovered a new favorite word, and that word was “NO.” His brother waddled around the house wielding the word like a weapon.
“Georgie, time to eat.”
“No.”
“Georgie, time for bed.”
“No.”
“Georgie, let go of my hair.”
“No.”
Sometimes the only way to escape was to get out of the house, but since he wasn’t allowed yet to go for walks (doctors’ orders), he spent many an evening pacing the long wraparound porch out front. One evening he was just making his fifth turn when he saw Louisa biking up his driveway.
She waved and Daniel waved back. He was happy to have some company, but he couldn’t help but remember what Rohan had said about her, and Daniel swore that if she ever “swooned” in front of him, he’d die. Plus, he still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Mollie, even though she lived right across the street.
But if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, there was something about Louisa that Daniel liked. Something very … well, girl-like.
“How are you feeling?” she asked as she sat down on the porch swing. She smoothed out her skirt and scooted over, leaving plenty of room for someone to join her—but not so much room that they’d be all that far apart. Mollie would’ve thrown her feet up and taken the whole swing.
Daniel decided to remain standing.
“I’m a lot better. The doctor says that I can go back to school on Monday, so I guess that’s a good thing.”
“I wrote out all the notes from science class for you,” she said, reaching into her backpack. “We’re studying genetics and the Human Genome Project this week.”
She handed Daniel a sheaf of neatly written notes, complete with color-coded highlights. “Wow,” said Daniel. “You did
n’t have to do that. I could’ve gotten them from Rohan when I got back.”
“Well, I didn’t want you to fall behind. And it’s interesting stuff, mapping human DNA. Mr. Snyder said that it’s like a big scientific puzzle, a mystery. And I know how much you like mysteries.”
“Yeah, I do. Well, thanks, Louisa, these are great. Really, this is very … uh, sweet of you.”
Louisa blushed prettily at the compliment. It was funny—whenever Mollie blushed, her face got all splotchy red, as if she were getting ready to break out in hives or something. Plus, the only times that Daniel had seen Mollie blush had been when she was angry—with her, compliments usually got you a punch in the arm.
And yet Daniel found himself glancing across the street at Mollie Lee’s little yellow house.
Louisa folded her hands in her lap and began to gently swing herself on the porch swing.
“Simon’s back at school,” she said.
“Yeah. Rohan told me.”
“You know, I was a little surprised when I heard that you’d been staying with him. When it all happened, I mean.”
Daniel’s breath caught in his throat. Their story had been that he, Rohan and Mollie had been camping out the night of Daniel’s accident. They hadn’t mentioned Simon at all.
“I wasn’t … I mean, I was camping in the woods with Rohan and Mollie.”
Louisa kept swinging on the swing. “Yeah, I know that’s what you guys said, but I overheard you and Rohan at the hospital. It turned out that there was a soda machine just down the hallway from your room after all.”
Now it was Daniel’s turn to blush. She’d heard everything, or at least enough to guess at what had really gone on that night of Simon’s birthday. If she told Eric now, before they’d had a chance to solve the mystery, they would all be in a load of trouble. He needed to convince Louisa to keep their secret. He needed to talk fast. “Louisa … I … uh … oh …”
She looked at him and smiled. “Don’t worry, Daniel. I’m not a snitch.”
Embarrassed, Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. “I think I’ll sit down now.” He plopped down next to her and absently picked at his cast. “How much did you hear?”
“Not much. But enough to know that you guys are trying to stop it. Whatever it is.”
“Well, we tried. But we failed. I mean, look at Simon, it’s just awful.”
“Is it? Is it really, Daniel?”
Daniel looked at Louisa then, blinking. They had stopped swinging.
“What do you mean? Of course it is! I mean, I don’t even have any powers, but just the thought of losing them….”
“That’s right, Daniel, you don’t have any powers. You don’t know what it’s like to be different. To be a freak. Look, I know that Mollie and Eric and even Rose, they love having powers. They feel like it makes us special, unique. But what if I don’t want to be special? What if I don’t want to change the world? I just want to grow up, have friends, go to the movies and maybe even kiss a boy….”
Gone were the coy looks, the smiles. Louisa was serious now, more serious than Daniel had ever seen her before.
“When you first joined us, Daniel, I was so happy. I am so happy, just to be around you, because for the first time in my life I can forget what I am. I can just be a girl.”
“But, Louisa, what I saw that night at Simon’s … it wasn’t right. What happened to him wasn’t natural. Something is doing this to you and I know, deep in my gut, that it’s wrong.”
“Are you sure, Daniel? Are you really sure? Because what if you’re wrong? What if the Rules are right and you guys are making a huge mistake that could be putting all of us in danger?”
Daniel had no answer. He hadn’t actually seen that thing in Simon’s room do anything to Simon. But he had felt it.
Louisa got up from the porch swing.
“Just be sure, Daniel. That’s all I ask. You guys are my best friends and I’ll always be on your side. But just be sure.”
Louisa grabbed her backpack and slung it over one shoulder, smiling at Daniel again. “Anyway, I hope those notes are useful. Get better soon, okay?”
Then she turned and walked back to her bike. She gave a small wave and pedaled away, leaving Daniel alone with his thoughts, which were more confused than ever.
Back in his room, Daniel pored once more over the old issues of Fantastic Futures, Starring Johnny Noble. If there was a clue in there, he needed to find it now more than ever. Daniel was convinced that Louisa was wrong about what had happened to Simon, but she was right about one thing—he needed proof. It was irresponsible for him to act without it. The pages were fragile, and Daniel had to be all the more careful since he couldn’t use his broken arm. Eventually he found a comfortable position at his desk, with the comics spread out before him and his cast propped up on a stack of books. The dull ache that had bothered him so much in the hospital was gone, only to be replaced by a constant tickle. Most of the time he could slide a pencil into the cast to scratch, but every now and then the tickle would creep just beyond the reach of even the pencil, and in those moments Daniel felt like smashing his head into a wall.
The one thing Daniel noticed upon rereading the stack of books was that this was not a complete set. There was a gap in the middle where the issues jumped from number seventy-six to seventy-nine. Two comics were missing from the collection.
Still, the rest of the books were obviously collector’s items, and that was only part of their value. These stories were the closest thing that the Supers had to a history, and Rohan had shown a lot of faith in their friendship by trusting Daniel with them. And though he couldn’t quite believe that the Supers were the legacy of some comic-book hero, Daniel wondered if there was another connection here that they were all overlooking.
He flipped open one of the books and studied the publishing credits on the first page. According to these, the comic came out in January 1946 … so long ago.
WRITTEN AND DRAWN BY HERMAN PLUNKETT
What a funny name, thought Daniel. He tried to picture Mr. Plunkett, a grown man sitting at his drawing table, creating stories out of the life of Jonathan Noble. What an imagination that guy must’ve had.
On a whim Daniel went online and typed in a name search. What he found was an archived newspaper article just a few months old, from the Noble Herald, and the headline read:
Plunkett Philanthropies Donates
New University Library. Dedication
Ceremony Chaired by Resident
Herman Plunkett himself.
Resident Herman Plunkett? Could it be the same man? That would mean he was still alive and living here in Noble’s Green. Daniel decided to do a name-and-address search, and sure enough, there was an H. Plunkett on Cedar Lane. The man who created Johnny Noble had been living here in town all this time, and none of the Supers knew.
Cedar Lane was not far from Elm, and it took Daniel all of ten minutes to make the bike ride, even favoring his bad arm. If he made good time, he hoped he could be there and back before his dad returned with Georgie from day care. What was surprising was that Cedar turned out to be a private lane, with only a lone large house at the end of the street. Actually, “house” was an understatement. If there was a single mansion in Noble’s Green, this was it. Tall pillars of white marble lined the broad entranceway of the immaculately kept front garden. A white old-fashioned arched roof peeked over the trees. Herman Plunkett had obviously done very well for himself.
As Daniel walked up the winding garden path to the front door, he played a little game with himself: he tried to guess what Herman Plunkett, the creator of Johnny Noble, might look like. Would he have a kindly face, bug-eye spectacles hanging from the bridge of his nose, maybe a big-bowled pipe like the one Sherlock Holmes smoked? Maybe he was still writing and drawing, and Daniel would find him hunched over his draftsman table, sketching away.
As he approached the pathway’s end, Daniel noticed a well-dressed older gentleman standing a few feet away, reading the pap
er. The man wore an expensive suit and had a neat white beard. He smiled as Daniel approached.
“Excuse me,” said Daniel. “I’m here to see Mr. Plunkett.”
“Oh, I think you’ll find him inside. Just ring the bell and tell his nurse you’re here to see him.”
“Oh, thanks,” said Daniel.
“Not a problem, son,” the man said with a smile, and went back to his paper. Daniel wondered what this man’s job might be, standing out here all alone. Security maybe? He was a big guy, if a bit on the old side.
Daniel rang the front bell and, after a minute or so, a woman’s plump face appeared at the door.
“Uh, hi. My name is Daniel Corrigan and I was wondering if I could speak to Mr. Plunkett? See, I’m a big fan of his work and I was hoping to get his autograph.”
“Mr. Plunkett’s work?” the fat nurse scoffed. “You’re a fan of businessmen, are you?”
“Uh, no. His comic books. See, I have a bunch of comics that Mr. Plunkett drew a long time ago.”
He opened his backpack and showed her the contents. With his arm in a sling, it was a struggle to do that much.
“Comic books, huh?” she asked, peering into the bag. “Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. Mr. Plunkett was a very well-regarded businessman in his day, but he’s long retired now. And you really should try reading real books, you know. Those things will rot your brain.”
Daniel sighed. This woman was a real pain. He looked over his shoulder to see if he might get some assistance from the well-dressed gentleman, but the man was gone.
“Hold on,” said the nurse, looking him up and down. “I’ll go and see if he’s awake.”
Awake? thought Daniel. It’s only four in the afternoon! Just how old is this guy?
The nurse returned after a few long minutes. “Mr. Plunkett will see you. But you don’t have any sweets on you, do you? Mr. Plunkett is on a strict diet and can’t have any sweets.”
“Um, no. No, I don’t have any candy.”
She glanced at his backpack. “You sure? You little boys are always carrying around chocolate bars or licorice drops….”
