by Greg Trine
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About the Authors
Copyright Page
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For Lindsay and Amy
—G. T.
For my brother Ivan
—R. M.
1
THE INTRUDER
Superhero Melvin Beederman lived in a tree house overlooking Los Angeles, California. When he wasn’t catching bad guys or rescuing good guys, he was home in his tree, watching cartoons.
And eating pretzels.
And drinking root beer.
And doing math problems during commercials.
This is what superheroes do when they’re not working. The only thing that changes is the snack … and the math. Why was Melvin taking it so easy? Because the McNasty Brothers, those notorious bank robbers and all-around bad guys, were back in prison where they belonged. There were other bad guys who needed catching, of course. But they were not nearly as nasty as the McNasty Brothers.
They didn’t smell as bad either.
So Melvin was taking a break and watching his favorite show, The Adventures of Thunderman. Like most superheroes, Thunderman had an assistant. Her name was Thunder Thighs. Melvin Beederman also had an assistant—Candace Brinkwater. The only person ever to run the hundred-yard dash in three and a half seconds. The only person ever to score 500 points in a basketball game. The only third-grader who could fly.
This flying stuff came in pretty handy for a superhero.
When The Adventures of Thunderman was over, Melvin typed an e-mail to his assistant.
Dear Candace,
Meet me at the library after school.
We’ll do a little math, then catch some bad guys.
Sincerely,
Your partner in uncrime,
Melvin
This was their agreement: Melvin helped Candace with math, and she helped him save the world. Candace’s parents loved having a daughter who saved the world on a regular basis—just as long as she was home for dinner.
Melvin pressed SEND on his computer. Suddenly, he heard something.
Squeak squeak.
Melvin jumped to his feet. He wasn’t alone. “Who’s there?”
Squeak squeak.
The squeaking was coming from behind the TV.
Melvin got ready to fight. “Whoever you are, come out with your hands up.”
Wait a minute. That was policeman talk. And Melvin was a superhero, not a policeman. The squeaking intruder must have caught him off guard. He couldn’t think.
“Come out and show yourself.” That’s more like it, Melvin thought. Superhero lingo. He’d learned the lingo along with the Superhero’s Code at the academy. Years ago, he’d been plucked from an orphanage and sent there. And now he was on his own in Los Angeles, his first job since graduating. His tree house was his superhero’s hideout—but maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought.
Squeak squeak.
He grabbed the TV and pushed it aside. Even though he stopped trains and outran bullets for a living, his heart was pounding.
Squeak squeak.
Melvin stared with his mouth open.
The intruder was nothing but a rat. A big rat, but a rat.
Melvin and the rat looked at each other. The rat wiggled his whiskers. Melvin didn’t have whiskers to wiggle. He wiggled his eyebrows instead.
“Hit the road, rat,” Melvin said.
The rat didn’t move.
“Take off. Scat. Beat it.”
The rat stayed.
“Get out of—” Melvin stopped. Back at the Superhero Academy he could speak gerbil. And this rat was kind of like a gerbil. Four legs. A tail. Fur.
Melvin gave his eyebrows another wiggle. This was part of gerbil language. If he had whiskers he’d give them a shake. But eyebrows were all he had to work with. Then he said, “Squeak.”
The rat looked startled. “Squeak?”
“Squeak squeak.” Melvin kept those eyebrows wiggling.
The rat did likewise with his whiskers. “Squeak squeak?”
“Squeak squeak squeak.” Melvin wasn’t sure, but he thought he’d just said, “Do you like pretzels?” or possibly, “What’s your favorite Thunderman episode?”
Melvin held out a pretzel. The rat came forward and sniffed. Then he took it in his teeth and backed away. Melvin turned the TV back on and gave the rat another pretzel.
Before long the two of them were watching TV together. And eating pretzels. If only this rat was good at math, Melvin thought.
It was too much to hope for, of course. But for now Melvin had a pet. He named him Hugo.
Later that day, Melvin was trying to get off the ground.
“Up, up, and away.” Crash!
“Up, up, and away.” Splat!
It always took him many tries to get up and flying. But this time it didn’t bother him.
“Wait till Candace Brinkwater hears about this,” he said to himself. “I have a roommate!”
2
TWO AGAINST ONE
Now that she was a superhero, Candace Brinkwater no longer rode the bus to school. She flew. She put on her cape and flew.
Candace had first come across the cape after a mix-up at the dry cleaners. Melvin got her cape by mistake. She got his. And with it came the power to fly, the power to stop trains. In the end, Melvin divided the cape with her. Two superheroes are better than one, as they say. And Los Angeles was better off because of it.
So now when it was time for school, she just yelled, “Up, up, and away.”
And she always got off the ground on the first try. Always.
Once at school, she kept on her cape. She had to. There were kickball games to play during recess. There were basketballs that needed to be slam-dunked. And there was also the chance she could break her own world record in the hundred-yard dash—three and a half seconds.
Mostly she kept on her cape so that kids would behave themselves. When Candace Brinkwater was around, bullies watched their step.
Candace had once showed up just in the nick of time to catch a couple of milk money thieves. They were the school’s biggest bullies, Johnny Fink and Knucklehead Wilson. Everybody thought Knucklehead was the leader, but it was really Johnny.
Johnny came from a long line of bullies. His father was a bully. His mother was a bully. Even his goldfish was a bully. If you put your finger in their fishbowl, you’d better be prepared to be picked on. Bullying was their family tradition. And it had been going on for years.
It was the same with Knucklehead Wilson’s family. Bullies, every last one of them.
“School’s no fun anymore,” Johnny complained to Knucklehead. They were sitting together at recess. All the other kids were busy playing. But not these two.
“I know,” said Knucklehead.
“I haven’t picked on anybody all week.”
“I know,” said Knucklehead. He didn’t talk much, but he was an expert at saying “I
know.”
“Something has to be done about Candace Brinkwater.”
Johnny and Knucklehead looked across the school yard at Candace, who was busy slam-dunking a basketball, red cape flapping behind her.
“I miss bullying,” Johnny said. “I really do.”
“I know,” said Knucklehead.
The two boys walked over to the basketball court where Candace was playing.
“Why don’t you leave your cape at home, Candace?” Johnny asked.
Candace stopped in midair just below the basket. She didn’t slam the ball. She just looked at Johnny and Knucklehead, trying to ignore their underwear. “You don’t know what you’re asking. If I left my cape at home, this school would be a different place.”
“Exactly,” said Johnny.
“We know,” said Knucklehead.
Candace landed lightly on the ground and walked over, holding the ball on her hip. “You two up for a game?” she asked. “Two against one. I won’t even slam-dunk. If you win I’ll leave my cape at home.”
Johnny and Knucklehead put their heads together. They talked it over. Two on one against Candace Brinkwater? The girl who scored 500 points in one game? The girl who ran the hundred-yard dash in three and a half seconds? The girl who could fly?
On the other hand, they really did miss bullying.
It was worth a try.
Johnny grabbed the ball from Candace. “Deal,” he said. “If we win, you leave your cape at home.” He passed the ball to Knucklehead, who dribbled it up-court and laid it in the basket for two points.
Candace wasn’t worried. This was part of her plan.
“Make it, take it?” Johnny asked.
“Yes, if you make it, you keep the ball.”
Johnny inbounded the ball again, but this time Candace was on Knucklehead like stink on a skunk, like cheese on a pizza … like a superhero on a bad guy.
When Knucklehead pulled up to shoot, she swatted the ball away. She grabbed it and passed it the full length of the court, then zoomed to the other end, caught it, and tossed it in.
“Make it, take it?” she said with a smile.
“Yes,” Johnny said. He knew he had been tricked.
And Candace was glad to have done the tricking. Once she got the ball, there was no giving it up. She inbounded the ball to herself, then ran to catch it, and scored again.
She didn’t need to slam-dunk. She just needed to run fast.
And she did run fast—very fast.
First she passed crosscourt to herself. Swish. Then she bounce-passed to herself. Swish.
Johnny and Knucklehead tried to block her. They tried to tackle her.
Nothing worked. Candace was too fast for them.
She shot from the outside. Swish. She shot in close. Swish. She got every rebound.
Johnny and Knucklehead dove at her from opposite sides of the court. But Candace moved, and the two boys ended up hugging in center court. “Hope nobody saw that,” Johnny whispered.
Of course everybody had. A crowd had gathered and began cheering, “Go, Candace, go.” The school wimps and geeks were glad to see Johnny and Knucklehead get a beating, even if it was only in a game of basketball. “Candace, you’re the greatest!”
By the time the bell rang she was ahead by 96 points. This was pretty good, considering she didn’t slam-dunk a single ball.
Candace shook hands with the boys. “Great game. Care for a rematch?”
“We’ll think about it.”
Johnny Fink and Knucklehead Wilson walked away.
“I hate Candace Brinkwater,” Johnny said.
Knucklehead nodded. “I know.”
3
I HATE BEEDERMAN. HOW ABOUT YOU?
While Melvin Beederman was getting to know his new roommate, Hugo, and Candace Brinkwater was busy keeping the bullies in line at school, all was not well at the county prison.
This was where Filthy McNasty and his brother, Grunge, were. Everybody thought Filthy was the leader, but it was really Grunge. Grunge McNasty was locked up on the west side of the prison. Filthy was locked up on the east side. The guards never let brothers share the same prison cell—especially notorious bank robbers and all-around bad guys.
Now that they were locked up, they had nothing to do but think about Melvin Beederman. And think about him they did. Day and night they did nothing but think of him … and plot revenge.
Finally Grunge had had enough with thinking. He went to the bars of his cell and began to chant. “I hate Beederman, yes, I do. I hate Beederman. How about you?”
There was a pause. Then a voice came back. “I hate Beederman, yes, I do. I hate Beederman. How about you?” It was Filthy McNasty, of course.
It went back and forth—Grunge chanted, and Filthy chanted in return. Each time it got louder. Pretty soon the whole prison joined in. The inmates on the west side of the prison didn’t want to be outdone by the inmates on the east side. Most of them didn’t even know who Melvin Beederman was. But that didn’t stop them from yelling.
“We hate Beederman, yes, we do. We hate Beederman. How about you?”
Later, Grunge McNasty paced up and down in his cell. “Melvin Beederman,” he said, “I’m going to get you.” He stopped pacing and thought for a moment. “If only you couldn’t run so fast. If only you couldn’t fly. If only you couldn’t see my underwear.”
On the other side of the prison, Filthy McNasty was thinking the same thing. He hated that Melvin Beederman could see his underwear.
4
MEANWHILE …
At that very moment, two women were tunneling under the prison. They had shovels in their hands and flashlights strapped to their heads. These were the McNasty Sisters, Mudball McNasty and her sister, Puke—notorious jewel thieves and all-around bad girls. Everybody thought Mudball was the leader, but it was really Puke.
“Keep working, Mudball,” Puke said.
“Anything you say, Puke.” Mudball stopped shoveling and turned to her sister. “Why are we doing this again?”
“We’re breaking our brothers out of prison.”
Mudball scratched her head. “Who are they again?”
“Filthy and Grunge, put in prison by Melvin Beederman and his superhero assistant.”
“Yes. Of course. Exactly.” It sometimes took a while, but Mudball caught on eventually.
The two sisters dug and dug and dug.
Finally they stopped, and Puke pulled out the map of the prison. “Grunge is locked up on the west side. I think we’re getting close.” It was Puke’s plan to rescue Grunge first, since he was the leader of the McNasty Brothers, those notorious … well, you know the rest.
“Grunge?” Mudball asked.
“Your brother.”
“Yes. Of course. Exactly.”
They kept digging, but stopped when they heard something.
Mudball sniffed. “Do you hear something?”
“Sounds like voices,” Puke said. “Some kind of chanting.”
They began to dig at the ceiling of the tunnel. “We must be under the prison. Listen.”
The chanting was very soft, but it grew louder as the two sisters cleared away more dirt from the ceiling.
“What are they saying?” Mudball asked. “What’s a Beederman?”
“Melvin Beederman. Superhero, cape, x-ray vision. Ringing any bells, Mudball?”
“Oh, Beederman. Yes. Of course. Exactly. We’re almost there, Puke. Keep digging.”
“Hey, I’m the leader here, and don’t you forget it!” Puke said.
“Okay,” Mudball agreed.
“We’re almost there, Mudball. Keep digging.”
They did.
They dug.
Right through the floor of the prison.
Above them they heard, “I hate Beederman, yes, I do. I hate Beederman. How about—”
Crash! A hole suddenly appeared in the floor of Grunge McNasty’s prison cell, and he fell through it.
“—YOU!” he yelled. He hated
leaving sentences unfinished.
He stood up. “What in tarnation!” Then he saw his sisters and smiled. “You two are a sore for sight eyes. I mean—”
“We know what you mean,” Puke said, giving her brother a hug. She handed him an extra shovel. “Now to rescue Filthy.”
“Hey, I’m the leader of this gang, and don’t you forget it!” Grunge said.
“Okay,” Puke agreed.
“Now to rescue Filthy,” Grunge said. Puke rolled her eyes.
With the three of them working hard, it took no time at all to reach the east side of the prison where Filthy was locked up.
“I hate Beederman, yes, I do. I hate Beederman. How about—”
Crash!
“—YOU.” Like brother, like brother. Finishing their sentences was a McNasty thing.
“I never thought I’d get out of there. What do you say, Grunge, want to rob a few banks? I have a hankering for loot.” Not money—loot.
“First things first,” said Grunge. “I have a hankering for revenge. I do believe Melvin Beederman is about to have a very bad day.”
“Beeder–who?” asked Mudball.
“Melvin Beederman, that superhero and all-around good guy.”
“Yes. Of course. Exactly.”
“He outsmarted us last time,” Grunge said with a nasty smile. “That will never happen again.”
5
PARTNERS IN UNCRIME
Crash!
Splat!
Thud!
Kabonk!
Melvin Beederman was up and flying on the fifth try. Once in a long while he was able to get airborne in one try, but not often. And not on this day.
Melvin was kept busy all morning and most of the afternoon. After all, it was rule number one in the Superhero’s Code—“Never say no to a cry for help.” And there were plenty of cries for help.
“Holy workaholic!” said Melvin. “I’m busy.”
Holy workaholic, indeed! He was busy. Eleven bad guys caught before lunch. Seventeen caught after lunch.…
