That’s the question no one could answer, because human nature was too complicated. And that’s the question that troubled Whilly the most, even in his sleep. But at least it was a good sign that the boy had finally accepted the mind push, and used it well. Yet he was still just a child, and needed to learn control. And that’s what Whilly strove to teach him. If the boy could learn to control his mind push, he’d be less likely to unleash the remainder of his powers inadvertently.
And so, subtly, during their “little rescues,” Whilly instructed Bradley Wallace in the fine art of control, and the boy learned exceptionally fast. He now knew exactly how hard to push people’s minds so they would forget him and remember Captain Courageous, and not (as happened initially), become so completely disoriented that they didn’t remember anything. But the boy did learn, and actually seemed to enjoy his gift. But he enjoyed it not for its own sake, as others might, but for how it benefited others. That was what made this boy special, and that was what gave the dragon hope that Bradley Wallace would be able to adjust.
During January, with more and more people claiming to have been aided by the mysterious, faceless Captain Courageous who seemed to befuddle the minds of those he (or she - there was some speculation that it was a woman) helped, the media latched onto the story and did just what Bradley Wallace hoped they would - they ran with it. Though all of the “rescues” had taken place in San Rafael, the entire Bay Area got into the guessing game of trying to determine the stranger’s identity, and even his age.
The I.J. dubbed him the “Benefactor of the Downtrodden,” and the San Francisco Chronicle even ran a sketch of a Superman-looking guy with a red cape that didn’t looked remotely like Bradley Wallace. The boy loved it.
Bradley Wallace was ecstatic, especially when kids at school began talking about nothing else but this super-cool hero. The girls all giggled about how cute he most likely was (aren’t all superheroes cute, they’d say?) and children in the elementary grades were running around calling themselves Captain Courageous instead of Superman or Wonder Woman. There were even some who linked the Captain to the fire back in December where the old woman couldn’t remember anything about who rescued her. This was far better than Bradley Wallace ever expected, and the most daring rescue of all was yet to come.
February brought with it another violent series of thunderstorms that pelted Northern California with so much rain the hills became saturated with water, and mudslides abounded. A school bus filled with elementary school children, returning from a field trip to Golden Gate Park in San Francisco during one such downpour, careened out of control when a massive wall of mud cascaded down like an avalanche from a hill above the Waldo Grade area of Highway 101, and was completely buried in the oozing, suffocating slop.
As it happened, Bradley Wallace and Whilly happened to be passing overhead on their way home, having decided to call it quits for the day and get out of the brutal rain and driving wind. The boy gasped in shock as the mountain just seemed to let go and slid inexorably toward the freeway below. The bus never had a chance. The driver yanked the wheel hard over when he saw the slide, but the bus swerved wildly on the rain slick road and plowed directly into the falling mud, burying itself so deeply the only glimpses of the bright yellow color were visible.
“Whilly!” Bradley Wallace shouted loudly, the rain coursing down his face obscuring his vision. “We’ve gotta do something before they all suffocate!”
What do you want to do? the invisible dragon asked as they circled above the accident scene.
Several other cars had also skidded out of control, but none were in danger. The mud had rolled halfway out into the freeway, leaving only two lanes barely passable. Soon traffic would be backed up for miles and there would be too many witnesses for Bradley Wallace to act safely.
“I don’t know!” the frantic boy shrieked in reply. “You must be able to do something!”
I am only a dragon, Bradley Wallace, Whilly pointed out realistically, Not Superman.
Frustrated, the boy’s mind churned furiously. The mud would be oozing into the bus by now, through every crack and partially opened window. He knew those kids would die before any other help could arrive. “We’ll dig them out!” he suddenly decided, realizing it wasn’t much, but it was something. “Hurry!”
Wordlessly, Whilly descended and dropped the boy into the mountain of mud where he supposed the back of the bus to be. Oblivious to the startled looks directed at him by other stranded drivers, Bradley Wallace scrambled forward and attacked the wall of goopy, oozing mud with a passionate vengeance. He dug furiously, with every ounce of strength he possessed, flinging mud wildly back over his shoulder. A moment later, he saw great globs of the viscous glop being flung crazily in every direction and knew that invisible dragon claws were hard at work.
Desperately the boy struggled on till he was covered with so much mud he looked like part of a minstrel show, and his arms began to tire. He was slowing down considerably, and still the back door of the bus had not appeared.
It didn’t help their efforts that the thrashing downpour caused more mud to constantly slide down from the hillside above. He knew he couldn’t continue much longer.
You must, Bradley Wallace, the dragon urged him, still flinging mud wildly and rapidly.
The boy collapsed into the mud, sliding down a few feet.
“I can’t, Whilly,” he panted heavily. Where was everyone anyway? Wasn’t the fire department supposed to show up for things like
this? And what about all the people he’d seen when he started? Where were they? He couldn’t make out many details through the driving rain. How long had they been digging, anyway?
Never say can’t, Bradley Wallace, he heard Whilly force into his weary mind. Believe that you can and you will.
Suddenly the dragon’s words penetrated, and the boy’s determination returned. He scrambled to his feet and turned to face the mountain of mud, his face set, his eyes flashing vermeil. And his heart took over. He felt (or heard, he could never be sure which it was) the wild rushing of water in his head, and strength returned to him tenfold. His arms nearly radiated with pulsating power, and he attacked the solidifying mud as though possessed. He clawed crazily, almost frenzied, sending glob after glob of mud in every direction. He even surpassed Whilly in speed and strength, and in a matter of seconds faded yellow paint became visible. Bradley Wallace doubled his efforts, his arms glowing wildly now with a brilliant red iridescence that looked eerie in the pouring rain.
In moments, the emergency door appeared, and the boy gripped its handle in one glowing fist. He braced himself with his mind and yanked. The door tore from its hinges and dropped to the ground a few feet behind Bradley Wallace. The rapidly gathering spectators gasped in amazement as the strange, mud covered figure, ripped the steel door from its frame and cast it aside like a rag doll.
Whilly watched with a certain pride as Bradley Wallace, still retaining control over his power, jumped up into the mud-filled bus and emerged a moment later with a crying, terrified child under each arm, the other wailing children trailing close behind. The bus driver, a big man with monkey-like ears brought up the rear, staring at the glowing, mud-soaked figure in obvious awe.
The bus was rapidly filling with mud as more cascaded down the hillside, and the bus driver herded the children away from the wreck. Suddenly one little girl with pigtails began screaming that her brother was still inside! Without hesitation, Bradley Wallace leapt back into the bus and waded through the river of mud that filled the aisle.
His mind saw the little boy before his eyes did, cowering under a seat and trying to get away from the incoming mud. Bradley Wallace
reached down and swept the small child, who clutched tightly to a Peanuts lunchbox, into his arms. He dug through the mud to the exit and jumped to the road, depositing the crying child into the outstretched arms of the astonished bus driver.
At that moment, his power released itself and his iridescence faded into nothin
gness. He staggered a moment from weakness, and put a hand to his head. Why was it pounding so much? He focused on the whimpering children before him in surprise. How did they get out? He looked back at the bus and sucked in a breath at the sight of the devastated door. He must’ve buzzed out again, or fainted from exhaustion, because he sure didn’t remember that. Then suddenly, the bus driver was shaking his limp hand and thanking him profusely. It was then that Bradley Wallace noticed all the other people standing around staring at him in wonder, and he groaned aloud. Now he’d really done it!
“Who are you, anyway?” stammered the confused bus driver, shaking his head in amazement.
Bradley Wallace felt faint again. “Captain Courageous!” he announced in as deep a voice as possible, which didn’t crack for once. Then, with what strength he had left, he pushed as hard as he could, commanding everyone present (a considerable number by now) to forget everything about him except his name. The effort ripped through his head, and the pounding intensified so much he thought he would explode. He’d never pushed so many at one time before, and he wasn’t even sure it would work on a mass scale. All he knew for sure was his head was splitting apart, and he needed Whilly.
Whilly? he asked, cringing. Even that small mental effort ripped through him. I need you.
I’m here, came the instant reply, from directly overhead.
Take me home, the boy transmitted, gritting his teeth against the pounding.
Moments later he was airborne, high above the Waldo Grade, gripped firmly by dragon claws. He must’ve passed out briefly, he realized numbly, because he didn’t remember being lifted from the ground. He could barely make out the mud-covered freeway below, but it didn’t matter anyway. The kids were safe, that’s what mattered.
“How did we get to the bus so fast, Whilly?” he asked, his head whirling as the dragon flapped through the buffeting wind and rain toward San Rafael. “Did you pull that door off?”
Knowing the boy was weakened by the energy he’d absorbed and then expended, Whilly realized he had to be careful. He couldn’t tell the truth, but he didn’t want to lie again. Lying was so undignified for a dragon. It was so . . . so human. Especially lying to your friend. But he was trapped by events he couldn’t control, and really had no choice. He also liked being in control, and his mind rebelled against being forced to lie against his will. But it was for Bradley Wallace, who had done so much for him all along, and the boy had to be protected at all costs.
Yes, he lied, *I pulled off the door. But you went inside and carried out those children, Bradley Wallace. You believed in yourself and you succeeded.*
The boy didn’t understand. Why couldn’t he remember any of that? Why did his head feel like a nuclear testing sight? “Why can’t I remember?” he vaguely heard himself ask. “Why does my head hurt?” Did he think those things or say them aloud? He was too dazed to be sure.
Either way, Whilly heard him, and forced another outright lie into being. You were hit on the head by falling mud, Bradley Wallace, and it stunned you.
Oh. That explained it. Well, at least everything was all right now. He smiled weakly at the thought, knowing that Captain Courageous’ reputation as a hero was now assured. He thought for a moment that he should feel proud, but he’d always been taught that pride was a sin and he didn’t want to commit any more of them. Besides, at the moment he was almost too tired to feel anything.
“Let’s get home, Whilly,” he muttered, his body nearly numb with exhaustion. “I want to sleep.”
The dragon wholeheartedly agreed.
As he expected, the bus rescue was front-page news all over the Bay Area, and made the national TV news, too.
Watching televised coverage of the cleanup of Waldo Grade and interviews with the bus driver and several spectators, Bradley Wallace felt
a kind of ecstatic joy in knowing that he was in part responsible for their salvation.
A warm sensation suffused his entire body when he saw some of the cherubic faces of the children he’d carried out of that doomed bus. A frown creased his face then, as he still didn’t actually recall very many details. Fortunately, neither did anyone being interviewed. His mass mind push had worked - all anyone could remember was that their savior was the mysterious Captain Courageous, but no one could furnish a single detail as to his age, height, or appearance. Bradley Wallace smiled at their confused, but happy, faces. Sin or no sin, he felt proud.
“Isn’t it exciting, Bradley Wallace?” Janet asked him first thing the next morning at school.
“Yeah,” Bradley Wallace agreed heartily as they wormed their way through the noisy, crowded hallway toward their respective classrooms.
“I wish I had been on that bus,” she went on excitedly. “I’d simply die if I met Captain Courageous. I wonder what he looks like?”
Her voice took on that dreamy, lost-in-the-clouds tone girls always seemed to use about guys they liked and which always turned Bradley Wallace’s stomach.
But today was different. Now it was being directed at him without her knowing it, and he suddenly felt split in two. He’d noticed of late how all the girls ever seemed to talk about was the hero and how “roomanntic it all was!” and Janet was no exception. She used to take an interest in him, klutzy old Bradley Wallace Murphy and, though he’d never really admitted it, he liked her attentions. But now all she talked about was the heroic Captain Courageous, and he felt jealous. Of himself? It was all so confusing.
His classmates had never given him much attention anyway, but now none of the guys even challenged him to arm wrestling matches anymore. They were all too interested in trying to act like the mysterious hero everyone was talking about. He’d undermined his own status far more effectively than Wagner ever could, and all because he was trying to help people without jeopardizing Whilly’s safety.
As Janet peeled off to enter Sister Mary’s classroom, Bradley Wallace felt a sudden urge to tell her the truth, to admit to her and all his peers that he was the hero. But as he watched her disappear through the open doorway, he scanned the cold, hard faces of his classmates within and realized with resignation that they would never believe him. They knew him too well to accept him as anything but plain, boring old Bradley Wallace Murphy. A sudden image of himself and Christ as compatriots flashed through his mind, the Christ who was never accepted as the Messiah by the people with whom he grew up - after all, he was only a carpenter’s son. Then the blasphemous nature of his comparison caused him to shut out those thoughts at once, as though a lightning bolt might strike him down at any minute. He took one last, despairing look at Janet, busily chattering with Grace McMillan about (he was sure) the heroic Captain, and pushed past the door toward Mr. Baldie’s room. Girls!
And then, in the third week of February, Bradley Wallace felt an inexplicable, but overpowering desire to visit Mr. O’Conner. He’d thought about doing so on numerous occasions since the year began, but school or Captain Courageous always kept him too occupied. Everyone continued to gossip incessantly about the exploits of the mysterious hero, and much of Bradley Wallace’s initial enthusiasm had waned. In fact, he’d almost begun to resent his alter ego for taking away what little attention people ever gave him. Can you even resent yourself? But he knew Mr. O’Conner wouldn’t be like that. Mr. O’Conner wouldn’t care about the BIG HERO. Mr. O’Conner liked him just as he was, Bradley Wallace Murphy. Yes, he would visit Mr. O’Conner this coming Saturday.
The near-constant rain held itself in check as Bradley Wallace pedaled his bike out of the yard Saturday afternoon and moved out down the street toward Rakestraw’s. The air was cold and invigorating, and heavy black clouds hung overhead eyeing him with contempt. But he didn’t care if it rained, he thought, pumping hard against the pedals, head bent against the wind, sweat breaking out on his forehead. All he wanted was a few normal, serene moments with good ole Mr. O’Conner.
The exercise of riding his bike, which he also hadn’t had much time for lately, sent a refreshing, tingling sensa
tion throughout his body. He was finally beginning to lose what his mother called “baby fat,” and
actually looked somewhat athletic. What a joke! But it sure felt good to be riding his bike again. It felt normal.
Mr. O’Conner lived high up in the hills above Rakestraw’s and the yacht harbor. Actually, his house was more behind the hills for he had no view of the ocean from his street. Which was interesting, Bradley Wallace thought, since he lived on a street called Seaview Terrace. When he was younger, Bradley Wallace used to always think of the submarine on “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea,” and the old man joked that he lived on the “Seaview.”
The road rising into the hills was steep, and Bradley Wallace had to walk his bike up. It twisted and turned, hugging the hill on one side and lined with massive trees along the other, mostly eucalyptus (Johnny Appleseed must’ve had an awful lot of those seeds when he passed through this county, Bradley Wallace had often thought).
The huge trees effectively screened out the sun, giving the old road a strangely ominous cast, and making Bradley Wallace slightly nervous. The shadows conjured up images of that horrible creature he’d last seen (except for dreams) on Halloween night, and though he knew instinctively that it wasn’t actually hiding in the trees beside the road, his imagination caused him to quicken his pace. He’d have felt more secure with Whilly beside him, but obviously the dragon couldn’t accompany him this time. Fortunately, Whilly didn’t seem to mind being left alone for the afternoon, and even encouraged the boy to go. The wind rustled through the treetops noisily, and Bradley Wallace pressed on nervously.
Even though he’d known Mr. O’Conner for as long as he could remember, Bradley Wallace had never been to the old man’s house, and always wondered what it was like. He suddenly realized he’d forgotten to tell his mother he was coming up here. But then, she had been in her room napping, and he could say he didn’t want to disturb her. He’d probably still get it, but he didn’t care.
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