The Society of Super Secret Heroes

by Phyllis Shalant

  Kev snorted. “So we’re all supposed to have secret names?”

  “Why not? Yours can be Kev the Killjoy,” Elliott said.

  Fin and Raj cracked up.

  “Ha-ha. You’re not funny,” Kev said, but he looked like he was trying not to smile. He pulled a marker and a little pad from his pocket and began doodling something.

  Elliott reached over and tugged the edge of the cape. “Hey, Fin, why did you cross out the part in the Oath about the Thinking Cape? It’s an excellent name. It could be our mascot.”

  “Yeah, like the funny ones all the sports teams have,” Kev agreed. “Did you ever see the Padres’ giant chicken or the Mighty Ducks’ wacky quacker?”

  Foolish fowl! Preposterous poultry! I do not want to be a mascot, Master!

  There it was. Finch glanced around at the guys to see if they’d heard anything. Raj was pulling on his ear. Elliott was shaking his head. Kevin was feeling his forehead.

  “Mascots are for sports teams,” Fin murmured. “And they’re usually kind of silly. The Thinking Cape is more like a symbol.” He stared into his lap.

  “I was just thinking that,” Raj said slowly.

  Kev shot him a sideways glance. “So was I.”

  “Me, too,” Elliott whispered.

  Finch gathered up his courage. “Did any of you hear, er, a voice say ‘foolish fowl’ or ‘preposterous poultry’?”

  The guys all looked at one another. Each gave a tiny nod.

  “Only, not out loud,” Raj said quietly. “I heard it in my head.” He turned to Finch. “Was it inside yours, too?”

  Fin nodded. He couldn’t get any words out.

  “I thought my head was haunted!” Elliott exclaimed. “The voice said, ‘I do not want to be a mascot, Master!’ ” He shot Fin a sideways glance. “Did it mean you?”

  Indeed I did, Elliott the Elastic. Master Finch is the first person to have guessed my identity in a thousand years. He wrote it down: “the Thinking Cape.” That is the reason I can finally speak again. Now he is my master.

  For a moment, the guys just stared at one another. Then Kev thumped Raj on the back. “Ha-ha. This is your new magic trick, right—ventriloquism?”

  “No ventriloquist can throw his voice inside someone’s head,” Raj whispered.

  Elliott eyeballed the ceiling. “Then . . . who’s doing the talking?”

  As I said before, it is I who speaks—the Thinking Cape.

  Fin’s brain was racing. If everyone heard the voice, then he wasn’t nuts! “It’s true—it can talk,” he said. He untied the cape and placed it in the middle of the floor. “At least I think it can. I’ve been hearing it in my head for days.”

  Raj stared. “You’ve been hearing voices?”

  Finch gulped. “Only this voice. I asked the Thinking Cape to let you hear it, too.”

  “G-gee, thanks,” Kev stammered.

  “Get it to say something else, Fin,” Elliott urged. “You’re its master.”

  Finch leaned forward. He felt kind of foolish. “Um, Cape?”

  Yes, Master Finch. How may I be of help?

  “Can you do our homework?” Elliott asked before Fin could think of a reply.

  Nay, Elliott the Elastic, that is not possible, I’m afraid.

  “Can you bring us a trunk full of money?” Kev asked.

  Nay, Kev the Killjoy, that is not possible either.

  “Then what can you do?” Raj asked.

  You see, Raj the Remarkable, my job is to help make ordinary mortals into extraordinary ones. I can assist you in becoming superheroes.

  “Yeah, right. There’s got to be a microphone in here somewhere,” Kev said as he crawled around peering under the furniture. The rest of the guys began searching, too. Raj poked under Fin’s pillows and Elliott looked in the trash can. Even Finch looked under the bed, although he knew he wouldn’t find anything.

  Finally Raj said, “Who are we kidding? Even if there were a microphone, how could it speak inside our minds?”

  No one could come up with an answer.

  Elliott leaned toward the cape. “Are you from outer space?”

  Nay, Elliott the Elastic.

  Elliott giggled. “Could you just call me Elliott?”

  As you wish, Elliott.

  “You already know I got the cape from a garage sale, El,” Fin said.

  “Yeah, I remember.” Kev poked the cape. “So if you’re really magic, what were you doing there?”

  I am afraid that is a long, sad story, Kev the Killjoy.

  “Call me Kev,” Kev grunted. “Let’s hear the story.”

  “Hold on. First everyone needs to sign the Oath,” Finch said. He held out his pen. One by one, the boys signed their names. No one said a word until Fin finished putting it away in his desk.

  “Okay, Cape,” he said solemnly, “the Society of Super Secret Heroes is officially ready.”

  For a long time, I was forced to be a lowly towel. But that was not the way my life began. My cotton was grown in a special field that belonged to a family of cape makers. The cloaks they made were the most prized in the kingdom, for it was known that they had extraordinary powers.

  “Where was your kingdom?” Raj asked.

  A thousand years ago the borders were not so clear. It might have been Persia, or Arabia, or India. But perchance you know that the world has changed, Raj the Remarkable.

  “You can call me Raj,” Raj said. “But what was the name of the kingdom?” He squinted as if he were trying to see the place.

  My home was Gizli Yer. It means Secret Earth.

  “Quit interrupting it, Raj,” Elliott complained. He reached out and stroked the green cape like a pet. “So what happened to you?”

  I was purchased from the cape makers’ shop by a man who traveled from kingdom to kingdom buying and selling goods. With me across his shoulders, the trader strutted like a peacock, enjoying the compliments he received on my fine fabric and golden strings. My master often asked my advice on business dealings, and with my help, his wealth grew great. Unfortunately, he was never satisfied. One day, he did not like the answer I gave to a problem he asked me to solve.

  “What was the problem?” Kev asked.

  He wanted me to tell him how to steal grain from his neighbor’s storage shed without getting caught. But we capes are supposed to work for good, not evil. I merely pointed out that since he was too fat already, he did not need more grain.

  The boys snickered.

  Unfortunately, my owner flew into a fury. He shouted that I would be more useful as a towel and ordered a maid to take me to the bathhouse. But first, he cut off my golden strings. Without them, I could no longer speak. In time, it was forgotten that I was ever a cape at all. Oh, how my fibers quiver to think of all the generations that have dried themselves on me.

  “You still haven’t said how you got to the garage sale,” Finch reminded it. He stretched his arms and wiggled his toes. The Thinking Cape sure could talk.

  I was getting to that, Master Finch. Since magic cotton such as mine never wears out, I was passed down from one relative to another. I was living in the linen closet of a family not far away, when the mother of the house decided to make me into a costume for her son. She gave me green satin strings and sewed on my lightning bolts. But her ungrateful brat refused to wear me. He said he wished to be Batman—whoever that is. That is why I ended up in the garage sale among the other unwanted items.

  “If you hadn’t spoken for a thousand years, how come you can speak now?” Kev asked.

  When the brat’s mother sewed my new strings on, a surprising thing happened. I began to sense my voice returning.

  Elliott ran one of the strings through his fingers. “Did you try to talk to her or the brat?”

  Nay, Elliott. It is against the rules. I am only permitted to speak with those who know my true identity. Besides, I could not bear having the brat as a master.

  “Do you ever talk out loud, Cape?” Raj asked.

  Never
. For me it is not possible.

  “Too bad. If people could hear you, you could go on TV. You’d be famous,” Elliott said.

  Suddenly, from outside Fin’s door, something began roaring. It sounded like a vacuum cleaner. “That’s funny. It’s not Gloria’s day,” he said. Gloria was the Mundys’ cleaning lady. She only came on Fridays.

  “Maybe somebody’s here to steal the cape,” Raj whispered. Just then, something bumped hard against the door. The guys jumped.

  Finch stood up and tiptoed over to it. Slowly, he reached for the knob.

  “Be careful,” Elliott hissed.

  The thing crashed against the door again—harder this time. Finch took a deep breath and cracked it open.

  11

  FINCH FLIPS OUT

  Blaaam! A vacuum cleaner hurtled through the opening, followed by Fin’s sister.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” he protested.

  “What does it look like?” Mimi shouted over the noise. With furious strokes, she shoved the vacuum back and forth across the floor. Rosie and Cubby flew out of the room like furry demons. Finch snatched up the Oath just before the vacuum swallowed it. Raj, Kev, and Elliott jumped onto the bed.

  “Pick up your feet!” Mimi ordered them.

  They swung their legs off the floor.

  “Who do you think you are—Gloria?” Finch shouted. “Go clean somewhere else.”

  “We don’t need a cleaning lady!”

  Mimi yelled over the vacuum’s roar.

  “It’s time you stopped being so spoiled. We need to save money so

  I can go to private school.”

  “I’ve got an idea! You should go to boarding school. If you do,

  I’ll give you all the money in my college bank account,” Finch said with a big grin on his face.

  The guys smirked, but Mimi didn’t think it was so funny. “Boarding school? You want me to live away from home?” She chased Fin with the vacuum nozzle. It swept up the cape and began sucking it in.

  Aiyyya! Help me!

  Finch grabbed the vacuum cord and pulled it out of the wall. Instantly, the noise stopped. “GET OUT!” he screamed at his sister.

  “All right, I’ll go. But you’d better dust this place. You can use this old rag.” Mimi tossed him the cape. “I warn you—I’m coming back to check.” She dragged the vacuum out of the room. Finch kicked the door shut after her.

  “Oh, man! What got into her?” Raj whispered.

  Finch shook his head. “I don’t know. She’s been acting weirder than usual lately.”

  Elliott looked at his watch. “Oops—time to go. My mom is coming home early tonight.”

  Kev stood up. “I’d better go, too. I promised I’d clean my room today.”

  “I should help my grandma with the twins. They’ve been really bad lately,” Raj said. He put a hand on Fin’s shoulder.

  “But you can’t leave me here with the, er, you-know-what,” Finch protested.

  “Why not? You’re its master,” Elliott said.

  “Besides, it’s always lived here,” Kev added.

  Fin felt a lump growing in his throat. “But everything is different now. Maybe I should tell my mom or dad about it.”

  “No! They’ll take it away from us,” Elliott exclaimed.

  “But what if I can’t take care of it?” Fin said. “I’m messy. I make mistakes. I forget things. What if I leave it somewhere?”

  I do not think that will happen, Master. I trust you. Besides, I do not want to belong to an adult.

  “Why not?”

  I wish to have fun for a change.

  “Yay!” Elliott started clapping.

  Fin ignored him. “But you could choose anyone you want to live with—like a billionaire or the president of the United States.”

  Billionaires and presidents would be disappointed with me, Master. After so many years of disuse, my power is as weak as the legs on a newborn camel. I am sorry, but if you try to give me away, I will not speak. The adults will think you are imagining things. I will be sent back to the closet—or worse.

  “The cape is right,” Kev agreed. “It would never have any fun if adults found out about it. Grown-ups aren’t good at keeping secrets. It would be on the TV news and then people would try to steal it. Or else scientists would want to do tests on it. It would be locked up forever.”

  “Come on, Fin—don’t you want to be extraordinary?” El begged.

  Yes, please, Master! I have already spent centuries in closets and trunks. I could not bear it again!

  “Okay, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone,” Fin said hoarsely. “None of us will, right?”

  The guys all murmured agreement.

  “Here.” Kev tore out the page he’d been drawing on and handed it to Fin. It showed the letters SSSh with a lightning bolt running through them. “I made an emblem for us.” He grinned. “And for the mascot, too.”

  “Thanks—it’s really good,” Fin said. He followed the guys to the front door and watched them hurry down the walk. He could tell they were glad to be going. Finding out about the cape had scared them, too. It wasn’t like in books and movies where kids discovered unearthly creatures or found magic stuff. Those kids didn’t get freaked out about their discoveries. He’d never realized how brave they were—or how unreal.

  He trudged back to his room.

  “Hi, Cape,” he whispered as he closed the door.

  Hello, Master Finch. How may I help you?

  “Well, I was just wondering something. Can you always hear my thoughts?”

  Nay. Your thoughts are shielded from me unless you want me to hear them. It is automatic.

  Finch felt greatly relieved. He didn’t want to have anyone listening to his thoughts all the time, even if that someone was a cape. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear the cape talking all the time, either. “What if I left you home sometimes? Would I be able to hear you in school?”

  Nay, Master. My voice would not carry over such a distance. But if you grow tired of hearing me talk, you do not have to leave me behind. Just say, “Pell-mell, a speechless spell!” Then I must be quiet.

  Another good feature! Finch thought. To his delight, the Thinking Cape didn’t seem to detect his comment. The automatic thought shield was definitely working.

  “Great!” he said. “Do you want to watch a superhero DVD now? I’ve got a Batman and a Spider-Man.”

  Excuse me, Master Finch, but aren’t you going to ask how to end the speechless spell?

  “Oh, sure.”

  You must say, “Quell, quell the speechless spell!” Then I will be able to speak again.

  “Okay.”

  My last master said I talk too much. Do you think so?

  “No,” Finch replied, although it did seem pretty gabby. Once again, he was grateful for the thought shield.

  Master Fin? I do have a request.

  Finch swallowed. “What?”

  Would you please tell me what a DVD is?

  12

  CORNERED!

  Finch packed his book bag as quickly as he could and ran downstairs. His mom had agreed to drop him off again. She thought he wanted to be early because of his job as a crab keeper. But the truth was he felt as if he’d rather be at school than home alone with the cape. Besides, he needed to finish his math homework. Last night he’d been too antsy to concentrate on it.

  Mr. Burns was standing on his head when Fin peeked into the classroom. Quietly, he backed away from the door. He didn’t want to have to stand on his head, do the downward-facing dog, or admit that he hadn’t finished his math assignment. For safety’s sake, he decided to do it in the stairwell. As he walked down the hallway, he passed the teachers’ room. The door was propped open. He took a quick look and saw his last year’s teacher, Mrs. Rooney, getting coffee with Mrs. Goldstein, the school nurse.

  Mrs. Goldstein waved. “Hi, Finny. How’s the new baby brother?”

  “He’s okay—he’s not so new anymore,” Finch said. Mrs.
Goldstein had been calling him Finny since kindergarten. He wished she’d stop.

  “Did you and your buddies write any more Super Ferrets comics this summer?” Mrs. Rooney asked.

  “We’re almost finished with one.”

  “Well, bring it into my classroom when it’s done. I’m sure the third graders would love to see it,” Mrs. Rooney said.

  “Okay,” Finch agreed, although he wondered if they’d ever work on it again.

  He passed the double doors of the gym next. The lights were on and he could hear the echoing sound of voices and the thudding of a ball. He glanced through the window in the door. The gym teacher, Mr. Fisher, was shooting baskets with the principal, Mr. Kutler, and Mr. Lacy, who taught the kids in special ed class. The three men often hung out together.

  Fin pushed open the door to the stairwell and sat on the top step. He wondered if Mr. Burns played basketball. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Mr. Burns talk to any of the teachers yet. Maybe it was because he was shy. Or it could be because he was new. He wondered if being a new teacher at school was like being a new student. No one ever rushed up to welcome them. They just had to try not to stick out until they weren’t so new anymore.

  Fin reached into his bag for his math book and felt the soft cloth of the Thinking Cape. His heart jumped—he still wasn’t used to it. But the cape was quiet. They’d stayed up late watching the movie. Probably it was sleeping now. Fin was tired, too, but he had no time for napping. He still had to take care of the hermies. He raced through the homework and hurried back down the hall toward his classroom.

  Just as he was passing the boys’ room, the door opened. Two hands seized him.

  “Hey!”

  Finch was trying to struggle free when a second pair of arms shot out and grabbed him, too. In a moment, he was pulled inside.

  “You didn’t think you were going to get away with hitting me, did you, Towelman?”

  “It was an accident,” Finch said as Thorn pushed him up against the tiled wall. “I tripped. Your nose just got in the way. Besides, Mr. Burns already punished me. It’s over.”