Cape

by Kate Hannigan

  “If only we had powers like Hauntima,” said Akiko, “then we’d know exactly how to help those people down the hall.” The pulsing electrical current now seemed to kick up a notch.

  “That’s it!” I whispered. “Maybe we can.”

  I stepped close to the both of them, throwing the black cape over my shoulders and fastening it at my neck. As I did, the thrumming in my ears surged even louder. “Do the same,” I urged them, gesturing at the costumes in their hands. Akiko slipped the mask over her eyes, and Mae kicked her shoes off and swiftly tugged on the boots. Now a fountain of sparks shot into the air above us.

  As Mae, Akiko, and I pressed in closer together, throwing our arms around one another’s shoulders, the room suddenly filled with a yellow glow. The thrumming sound grew stronger until it became a dizzying pounding in my ears, and we leaned in close not only so we could hear one another but also for encouragement. My voice shook as I tried to speak.

  “Th-there must be power left over in the Stretcher’s costume,” I stammered. “In the c-cape, mask, and boots.”

  “Power to do what?” shouted Mae. “What happens now?”

  “Power to transform into superheroes, I hope!” hollered Akiko with a wild grin. “But we have to say something or do something to activate it!”

  “What can it be?” I called over the pounding in my ears, my heart revving like a car’s engine. I was frantic now. “What turns somebody into a superhero?”

  “A gamma ray!” shouted Mae. “I read about that with Nova the Sunchaser! She was struck by a blast of electrons!”

  “No, no, no,” argued Akiko. “It’s a radioactive potion. We have to find the recipe that will transform us from mere mortals into superpowered heroes!”

  I shook my head. It couldn’t be rays or potions. It had to be something right here, right now, within the tight triangle we’d formed with our shoulders.

  “Grab my hand,” I called over the pulsing in my ears. And I slipped my right arm into the center of our triangle. Mae and Akiko did the same. As the three of us grabbed hands, still clutching on to one another’s shoulders, it finally came to me.

  “We have to speak it!” I hollered. “Something sacred or important.”

  “That’s too easy,” complained Akiko. “Do you think maybe we need to be stung by an exotic bug? Like a scorpion or a giant wasp?”

  “It should be an incantation,” urged Mae. “Like the first letters of our favorite heroes’ names!”

  Zenobia, Palomino, and Hauntima? “You mean something like Ze-Pa-Ha? Or Ha-Pa-Ze?” I asked impatiently. “What about Hopscotch? And Nova the Sunchaser? Should we add them, too?”

  We looked frantically into one another’s faces.

  “We’ve got to come up with something,” Akiko hollered, “because all I want to do is help those innocent people down the hall.”

  “Right! And catch bad guys like that Mr. Hissler, after what he did to the Stretcher!” added Mae, agreeing with Akiko for what might have been the first time.

  Helping innocent people. Catching bad guys.

  My thoughts raced to my little brothers, so scared of meanies like Toby Hunter and his bullies. To my mom working two jobs, trying to keep our family safe from any more harm. And to my dad flying planes in the war. I wanted to help them all.

  My stomach turned somersaults. Taking a deep breath, I whispered into the triangle, “I want a chance to do some good.”

  Suddenly a beam of golden light burst from the center of our huddle, radiating upward from our connected hands. The walls around us lifted, then dropped with a jolt. And the air hummed like it was filled with a thousand bumblebees.

  “What’s happening?” gasped Mae, trying to steady herself in the blinding glow.

  “Earthquake,” Akiko announced sensibly, her eyes blinking rapidly under her mask. And as a wind kicked up and began to swirl around us, her hair whipped in all directions. “Earthquakes happen all the time in San Francisco.”

  “But we’re not in San Francisco,” I shouted, clinging tightly to our clasped hands. “We’re here, in the Carson Building, wishing we had superpowers!”

  The crackling electrical charge exploded in my ears now, and energy shot through my veins. It was as if we were standing in the center of a hurricane. Light and wind spiraled around us, and the powerful pulsing surged through our fingers, arms, legs—our entire bodies. It lifted my feet off the floor, and the three of us seemed to levitate as the world just beyond us swirled around and around.

  “Mae!” shouted Akiko in surprise. “You’re turning purple!”

  “And, Josie!” hollered Mae, her eyes wide. “Look at you!”

  Streams of purple, orange, and green rippled in the funnel cloud as we hung there suspended in the pull and whoosh of the spiraling light. The wind whipped my hair, but as I looked down, I was able to catch sight of my tingling toes and feet.

  They seemed to be turning green!

  Twelve

  WITH MAE AND AKIKO’S HELP, I was able to carry the trunk and the fire survivors down to safety in the building’s back garden. Not in the same trip, of course, but it went quickly enough. I did take my time, not because they were particularly heavy, but just so I didn’t slip down the stairs and make a fool of myself. My knees were shaking and my mind was reeling—not only from our newfound powers, but also from seeing Hauntima’s ghost. On my last run, as I was carrying one of the grown-ups, Mae climbed down right behind me. Her own arms were loaded with Astra on one side and another weak and weary fire victim on the other.

  “She’s starting to come to,” Mae said, a little breathless. “I can’t believe it! I saved her life!”

  Once we reached the bottom, an office manager saw Mae and let out a tearful cry of relief. “Thank you, thank you,” he sighed, scooping the soot-covered, overweight cat from Mae’s arms. “Mrs. Tubbytons is my best friend!”

  “It’s funny,” Mae said, reluctantly handing over the rescued tabby. “She seems more Queen Anastasia than Mrs. Tubbytons.”

  “Oh, brother,” complained Akiko, rolling her eyes behind her orange mask. “Nobody is going to take us seriously now.”

  I stared around the Carson Building’s garden at the chaos. Sirens from the steady stream of fire trucks pierced the air, and the evacuated office workers were tromping over rosebushes and yellow pansies. Some of the workers I’d seen already up on the seventh floor—were they part of Room Twelve? Others were unfamiliar and probably worked in offices throughout the building.

  Mae set Astra on the ground, and within moments Mrs. B appeared right behind him. Ashes stained her tailored dress and shoes, but she looked unshaken. “Well done, girls,” she said coolly.

  I saw her eyeing the steamer trunk before turning her full attention to the three of us.

  “There is so very much to inform you about,” she said quietly as the noise pressed in. It was as if she were trying to draw as little attention to our exchange as possible. I had to strain to hear her. “Thanks to your remarkable efforts on the seventh floor, everyone involved in our affairs is accounted for.” Then she let out a heavy sigh. “Everyone, that is, except for one: Hank Hissler.

  “We have no idea where he has disappeared to. But we know for sure he has betrayed us.”

  Images flashed through my mind—of the Stretcher moments before he was vaporized, of Mr. Hissler’s snakelike eyes, of the devastating fire. My stomach lurched at the thought of Mr. Hissler asking me about Emmett. Thank goodness I hadn’t revealed where to find him!

  Camera bulbs flashed, lighting up the garden as newspaper photographers rushed over. I grabbed Akiko and Mae and nodded toward the iron gate that led to the street, giving them both my best we’ve-got-to-get-out-of-here look. The last thing I needed was for my mom or Kay to see a photograph of me running around Philadelphia in a funny costume, when I was supposed to be at school learning important things or at the diner earning rent money.

  Thankfully, Akiko and Mae felt the same way. “If Granny sees me lik
e this, I’ll be in big trouble! Granny doesn’t like people trying to be the center of attention.”

  “Oh no!” added Akiko. “I cannot have my picture in the paper! It’s bad enough that I skipped a day helping in my uncle’s store!”

  But it was too late. Suddenly a reporter buzzed in front of my face, notepad open. “Who are you kiddies?” he said. “The Caped Curiosities? The Gallant Gals? Tell us your names, would ya?”

  “Is this an early Halloween stunt?” called another journalist, scratching his ear with his pencil. “Are you dressed up for play? Will you show us the hidden wires that helped you carry those big lugs to safety?”

  “Philadelphia hasn’t seen caped heroes in years,” said a third reporter. “Not since that Zenobia and her sister . . . What was she called—the Palomino? I remember when they knocked out the Stink back in 1939. Boy, that was an ugly battle. Those were some amazing superwomen.”

  “I could swear I saw Hauntima around here earlier,” said the first reporter, looking a little perplexed. “But maybe it was a trick of the light with all that smoke. These kids are for real, though. Mighty Mites, that’s who they are!”

  Now a bigger crowd began pushing over to us, hollering questions and reaching out hands to touch our capes. The route to the iron gate was cut off, and I couldn’t see another exit from the courtyard.

  “Should we run back into the building?” said Mae, her voice tight. “They’re getting closer.”

  “We could climb the fire escape again,” said Akiko, pointing at the black stairs hanging off the side of the building. “Oh, never mind! There’s a photographer on it now!”

  Another camera bulb flashed, blinding us for a moment. We had to act fast to get away from this crowd, before an office manager grabbed us or the reporters jotted down too many details about who we were and where we lived. If there’s one thing I knew from all my comic books, it’s that superheroes needed to keep their real identities secret!

  I made a break through the crowd and took off running for the courtyard’s center, where a circle of benches faced one another. As I leapt over the low hedge surrounding it, I stumbled. But instead of falling down, I felt myself falling up. Like I was floating for a moment or two.

  Like I was flying!

  I could hear Akiko and Mae not far behind me.

  “The only way out is up,” I called over my shoulder, cape fluttering. “We’ve got to try!”

  But as I leapt into the air again, hoping to take off, I caught my foot on a potted plant and tumbled onto the stone courtyard. The crowd behind us let out a groan. It must have looked pretty bad.

  “What are you kids up to in those costumes? Did you have something to do with that fire?” called a police officer, waving his billy club in our general direction. “Take off the masks.”

  A second officer yelled even louder. “Are they with the circus?”

  “I told you everybody’d think we were circus perfor—”

  “Not now,” I shouted to Akiko. “Leap!”

  Back on my feet, I took off running again. Reaching my arms before me, I squinted my eyes tight and dove the way I did in the summertime at the swimming pool. But instead of arcing downward and splashing into water, my body seemed to lift up and back. The breeze on my cheeks felt cool despite the summer heat, and my emerald cape seemed to catch the wind.

  I was flying!

  Rising!

  Soaring!

  When I opened my eyes, the courtyard and the chaos were falling away. The trees and benches looked smaller, and the noise started to recede. Then Mae’s friendly voice cut through the murmuring crowd.

  She was still on the ground!

  “You see, it’s like this,” she was explaining, probably to a police officer or another newspaper reporter. “We three kids had no idea—”

  But just then the crowd erupted in shouts and whoops. I dared to glance behind me, and that’s when I caught sight of Akiko shooting through the air. Her orange cape shimmered in the sunlight like a meteor’s tail. Together we circled above the roof until we spied Mae rising too.

  “We’re flying!” shrieked Mae, who looked like a shimmery purple bird over the treetops. “We’ve got powers like Hauntima. Only with better costuming!”

  We did a few more loops around the building, unable to pull ourselves away from the excitement. And we were slowly getting the hang of our newest superskill. Bright red fire trucks sat in the street, looking like toys from our view up so high. The police officers and the reporters in the courtyard shouted at us to come down, but there was no going back now.

  I heard Astra barking and saw Constance Boudica gazing up at us. She had a smile on her face, and I could swear she gave us a small salute.

  “Who are those kids?” shouted another voice from the crowd as we crested the Carson Building’s roof. “What are they called?”

  “I think that one in the purple said it,” came another in reply. “ ‘Wee Three’ is what it sounded like.”

  “They’re remarkable,” said a third voice. “But that’s a terrible name.”

  Thirteen

  WE FLEW IN STUNNED SILENCE for a while until we spotted a wide rooftop below us. I signaled to Mae and Akiko that we should land, and with a few shouts and tumbles, we came to a stop without killing ourselves or one another—though Akiko gave a flock of pigeons a good scare. I said something about our job being finished, and suddenly we transformed again. Only this time there was no golden light or wind. Our costumes suddenly morphed back into our regular clothes, right before our eyes.

  And minutes after that, we were stepping onto the sidewalk as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

  “I . . . ,” began Mae, her mouth moving like a fish’s, silent and round. “I just . . .”

  She couldn’t find the words.

  Neither could I. Nor Akiko, it seemed.

  Threading past the late-afternoon commuters, we were too stunned, too shocked, too utterly flabbergasted to even speak. Since we’d overshot my neighborhood by a few miles, we would have to make our long, winding way through an unfamiliar part of the city. We set off in silence and let our minds turn the day’s events around and around.

  Finally, as we stood waiting for a traffic light to change on a busy street corner, Akiko spun and faced Mae and me. She fidgeted with the strap of her canvas bag. “So, what was she flying off to do?” she said, starting her question midthought. She just assumed we’d understand right away that she was referring to Hauntima. “One minute we were standing there, ordinary kids—well, two ordinary. One is a little odd—”

  “What?” Mae exclaimed. “Who are you calling odd? Certainly not me!”

  Akiko rolled her eyes and pressed on.

  “I just don’t get it,” she said with an exaggerated shrug. “How did she know about the fire? Where did she come from? Why was she a ghost and not the real Hauntima?”

  “And why . . . ,” Mae added with a long pause. Her expression was one of baffled awe as she gazed at Akiko and me. “Why us?”

  We walked on down the sidewalk and past a small park. I was asking the same questions. In fact, I’d started to wonder whether the past few hours had even happened at all. Was I dreaming? Superheroes hadn’t been seen in Philadelphia for so many years. What made today special? What made the three of us special? Sure, Mrs. B tried to explain it. But really? Did she really believe the three of us could make good superheroes?

  My stomach began to growl, so I steered us toward a nearby diner whose sign blinked like a lighthouse. I set my course straight for it.

  “I can’t think clearly until I eat,” I said. “I want to make sense of Astra, Mrs. B, Hauntima. Even the three of us. We saved people’s lives today! All of this is such a mystery.”

  “Oh, how I love mysteries.” Mae grinned, clasping at her heart. “Isn’t it curious how we all had different powers, except for flying? And how that woman from the seventh floor looked so much like Mrs. Roosevelt? My granny met the first lady at an art cen
ter in Chicago. Granny said she is truly a lady and that one time—”

  “What does that even mean?” interrupted Akiko, her sandpaper voice cracking. “Truly a lady? Does it mean she dabbed her lips with her napkin after each cookie? That she said please and thank you in all the right places?”

  “To start with, she didn’t interrupt,” Mae replied, a few clouds passing across her usually sunny face.

  I was too hungry to deal with Mae and Akiko and their bickering. They were starting to sound like my knucklehead little brothers. And my stomach was protesting that we’d missed lunchtime, so I was getting crankier by the second. I stared hungrily at the bright neon sign that blinked my all-time favorite word in the English language: PIE.

  “Let’s talk about it over something to eat,” I said, pulling open the diner’s door and ushering the two of them toward the nearest booth. While Akiko and Mae kept at their squabble, I breathed in the aroma of fresh-baked blueberry pie. My mouth watered as I imagined that first bite.

  “No, no, no, kiddos,” said a burly manager, fanning a stack of menus at us like we were a bad smell. “Out you go.”

  “We’d just like some pie, please,” I began, feeling the eyes of the patrons around us watching. I knew my cheeks were pink with embarrassment, and I wished we could just slip silently into the booth and not be the focus of such a fuss. “I have money to pay you,” I whispered.

  Did we look too scruffy to afford a meal? Sure, we probably smelled like a campfire, and I imagined our hair was a little tousled from the day’s adventures. I peeked at Akiko and Mae, and they looked respectable enough. I ran a hand over my long curls, tamping down here and there where I could feel them poking out.

  “Your money’s no good here,” the manager said gruffly, waving those menus at us again. “Now scoot. Scram. Beat it!”

  Mae shot toward the door like a bottle rocket. Akiko followed behind her, though her gait was stiff and slow. But I didn’t understand. I stayed put. Between my growling stomach and the delicious-looking desserts I’d spied on the long counter, I wasn’t ready to walk out.