In a much better mood, I popped into Grandma’s room and swept all around her bed in case she was having a bad dream. I didn’t think she was because she had a sweet smile on her face.
Her trash basket was full. I picked it up and dumped it down the trash chute outside our apartment. Before I could get back through the door, Buck had me cornered. He grabbed the trash can and smashed it over my head. “Where’s your lion, Giles? I thought you were going to feed me to the lions.”
I marched into my bedroom, plotting my revenge. After all, I was a superhero. You don’t pick on a superhero and get away with it. I had an obligation to the superhero community. I didn’t want to get stripped of my superhero privileges.
So I shrank myself and climbed in the flyplane.
DubDub, if I wanted to borrow a lion from the Central Park Zoo for an hour or two, could we do it?
It could be done, Giles. However, I have a hard time understanding the need for a lion at this particular moment.
You’ll see. I’ll be right back, DubDub.
I hopped out of the cockpit and made myself big again. Despite being a superhero, I didn’t feel like being alone in the spaceship with a lion, so I tracked down the parking meter in the kitchen. “I need you, Stanley.”
“Finally someone needs me!”
I miniaturized the two of us and strapped him into the copilot’s seat. We flew over to the zoo and glided between the iron bars into the lion’s cage.
DubDub fired a tranquilizer dart into the lion’s leg. It didn’t put him to sleep like a normal tranquilizer. Instead, it made the lion friendly and cuddly. I shrank it down and looped a leash around its neck. It licked my face while I tied the end of the leash around Stanley in the copilot’s seat.
Stanley trembled. Quarters jingled inside him. “Do lions eat parking meters?” he asked.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
As we were leaving Central Park, the flyplane sputtered and did a nosedive.
Stanley panicked. “What’s wrong?”
“Relax, Stanley,” I said, landing the spaceship on an empty park bench in the dark. “We need to fuel up.”
DubDub gave me a riddle.
Small silver armored creatures are embroidered on my bed sheets, Giles. What do I have?
That’s easy, DubDub. You’ve got armadillos on your pillows.
The gas gauge shot back up to FULL. We cruised back home: me, Stanley and the purring lion.
DubDub flew silently through Buck’s bedroom window. Buck was fast asleep, snoring.
Using the S/U, I made me and my new furry friend big again. I crept over to the bed and tickled Buck’s foot. He woke up, saw me holding a lion on a leash.
“Look, Buck. I got him at Macy’s.”
Buck almost wet his bed.
“He was on sale, Buck,” I said.
Tears ran down Buck’s bully face.
“Ten percent off. Plus I had a coupon.”
Buck ran out of the room screaming.
I shrank the two of us back down, rode on the lion’s back over to the flyplane and waited.
I heard Buck yell, “THERE’S A LION IN MY BEDROOM! THERE’S A LION IN MY BEDROOM!”
His dad threw open the door, took one look inside and walked away, yawning. “You were having a nightmare, moron.”
Buck peered into his room, saw that it was empty, and climbed back into bed.
Perched invisibly on the windowsill, I turned on the flyplane’s loudspeaker and said, “Hey, Buck, you weren’t dreaming!”
I let the lion roar over the loudspeaker. Buck ran out of the room again, hysterical.
(Hey, reader, I have a confession to make. I just love being me, Giles.)
I brought the lion back to the zoo. When I zapped it with the S/U, its body became big but its head only partially expanded to the size of a cat’s head. It looked like something out of a freak show.
DubDub, what happened to the lion?
I think it has something to do with the S/U, Giles. It’s malfunctioning.
I can’t leave it like this. They can’t have a lion with a cat’s head in the Central Park Zoo. It would give the zoo a bad reputation.
I miniaturized the lion and brought it back to the apartment to show Tula.
Tula wasn’t thrilled about it. Not one bit. “Giles, what does a lion have to do with cleaning Manhattan?”
“Nothing.”
“What does Buck have to do with it?”
“Buck is an idiot,” I said. “He deserved to get nailed.”
“I told you, Giles,” Tula said, gripping her briefcase like a weapon. A boyfriend pulverizer. “This technology cannot be used against humans.”
“It was a practical joke,” I explained. “It didn’t hurt anybody.”
“Well, the lion doesn’t seem to be in very good shape,” Tula said.
“We can fix it, can’t we?”
She didn’t answer.
“Can’t we, Tula? Don’t tell me I hurt the lion. Lions have it bad enough on this planet. Their jungles and savannas keep getting turned into mini-malls.”
Nikki fed the little-headed lion her ice cream cone. “I think he’s cute,” she said. “I say we keep him like this.”
“It wasn’t my fault, Tula,” I said. “My S/U malfunctioned.” I removed it from my wrist and handed it to her.
She dropped it into her briefcase, pulled it out a second later. “There. It’s fixed. There was a loose wire.”
I slid it back on and shrank the lion. When I made it big again, the body and the head returned to their normal size. The evenly proportioned lion gave off a deep purr.
Big Daddy stroked his mane. “You may be the king of beasts but I’m Big Daddy.”
Tula didn’t pet the lion. Instead, she glared at me. I’d never seen her so mad. She was fuming. “You’re losing focus, Giles. When I get distracted we end up in a chicken coop. If you get distracted you’ll end up on Desoleen. That’s a million times worse than a chicken coop.”
She had a point there. My girlfriend was losing faith in me. Man, did that ever suck.
I returned the lion to its cage at the zoo. Its filthy cage looked like a loft in SoHo compared to the one I would soon be stuffed into. My cage would have a big hairy wart on it.
I flew back home, the world’s most pathetic superhero, a kid who’d rather play a prank on a bully than save the planet.
Navida called late Friday night. I was tempted to let it go straight to voice mail but I didn’t. Kids typically don’t pick up when a girl in a wheelchair is calling. Navida was used to it. She got that all the time.
“What’s up, Navida?” I said.
“Giles, I’ve got a big problem.”
“Not as big as the one I’ve got. I can promise you that.”
“Giles, I can’t think of anything to put in my blog. I’ve got writer’s block. No, worse than that. I’ve got blog block. I’ve got major blog block, Giles. Eighty thousand kids are waiting for me to write something. The pressure is getting to me. Help!”
“OK,” I said slowly. “Here’s what you should write. ‘If we only had one day to prove that we actually cared about the earth, what would you do to make a difference?”
“That’s a great idea, Giles.”
“Let’s say that day was this Sunday. What would you do?”
“I love it. I’m using it. But tell me this. What happens if we’re unable to prove that we care about the earth?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Something really bad.”
I felt like I was sinking into quicksand, mouth first.
“But this is all hypothetical, Navida.” I emphasized the word hypothetical. “There’s no way we’re about to get kicked off the planet. It’s pure make-believe. It’s really important that you understand this, Navida. What I’m saying isn’t real.”
“I get it. I get it,” she said. “But it’s still brilliant. Thank you, Giles. You just wrote my blog
for me.”
When I hung up, Tula was standing by my computer. I didn’t even hear her enter the room.
“That was Navida,” I said, guilt ridden.
“I know, Giles.”
“I screwed up again, didn’t I? I wasn’t supposed to tell her anything. Face it, Tula. I’m a complete failure.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m not?”
“I’m glad you told Navida.”
“But I was only allowed to tell three kids.”
“You didn’t break the law for one simple reason. You told her it was purely hypothetical.”
“I did emphasize the word hypothetical.”
“Without revealing the threat of eviction, you figured out a way to get her involved. You made her an unofficial member of the team.”
“And you’re OK with that?”
“Giles, you did the right thing.”
“I did the right thing. Oh my God. How bizarre.”
She smiled. Nothing feels better than making your girlfriend smile, especially when you have a nasty habit of making her sad.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“GUESS WHAT, GILES?” Navida said. “Your blog idea was a huge success. Tons of kids are planning to do stuff tomorrow to prove they care about the planet. I’m helping them get organized.”
“What kind of stuff are you doing?” I asked, holding the phone in one hand, while stepping over (but not picking up) piles of dirty clothes in my room.
“Well, starting at nine in the morning, we’re all preparing a litterless breakfast. At nine thirty we’re going through our apartments unplugging unused electronic devices. They waste electricity even when they’re turned off. At ten we’re turning up the thermostats on our air conditioners two degrees and making sure every light in the house has a compact fluorescent bulb. At ten fifteen we’re all writing letters on the Internet to the governor asking for more wind and solar power. That’s just the small stuff. Wait until we get rolling.”
“That sounds good,” I said. “Just don’t get in my way. I’ve got an entire city to clean.”
“Giles, quit acting like a superhero.”
“I’m not acting, Navida.” I’d been impersonating one my entire life. Those days were over.
I wished Navida good luck and went into the kitchen. It was Saturday afternoon. The test would begin in nine hours. I tried to stay calm but it wasn’t easy. I was the only one who’d been to Desoleen, the only one who’d actually seen a Kundabon. Nikki, Bobby and Toshi had no idea what was in store for us if we failed. They were upbeat and joking at lunch. Not me.
“Where’s my traffic jam?” Toshi said. “It was right here.”
“I guess it drove away,” Nikki said.
Toshi chomped on a bagel. “No, Nikki. I think you ate it.”
“Did not.”
“Oh no? Then open your mouth.”
Nikki reluctantly opened her mouth. A voice could be heard all the way down in her stomach. “Hey, don’t drive in the fast lane if you’re only going fifty-five!”
“Right, you didn’t eat it,” Toshi said.
Ten cloudfish formed a protective wall around Nikki. She seemed to have a magic power over them. I don’t know if it was her violin playing or what. They loved her.
Tula appeared out of thin air. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had urgent business.”
I always felt a billion times better when the girl with the cotton candy hair was in the room.
Toshi peanut-buttered a slice of bread and handed it to her. “Tula, I get it that Giles and I are supposed to get rid of all the graffiti.” He hesitated. “It’s just that not all graffiti is bad.”
“What are you talking about, Toshi?” Bobby said. “Graffiti is disgusting.” Bobby and I had been getting along OK, but this was his usual goodie-goodie self showing through.
“Murals aren’t,” Toshi said. “Murals are cool.”
“Don’t worry, Toshi,” Tula said. “Your flyplanes are equipped with art critic software. They will not erase murals.”
“Now that we’re on the subject. Something’s been bothering me too” I said, dragging my spoon through a bowl of Rice Krispies.
“What is it, Giles?” asked Tula.
“There are a lot of animals in this city that live off trash. Mice, rats, squirrels, pigeons. What will happen to them when we clean up Manhattan?”
“They’ll starve to death,” Bobby said happily.
“I have a problem with that,” I said.
“Giles, I think the S/U permanently shrunk your brain,” Bobby said.
The insult didn’t bother me. It’s amazing what doesn’t bother you when you finally have a girlfriend.
Bobby grabbed a blueberry out of a bowl and flung it at me. “This bozo feeds ants. Can you believe it? He feeds ants.”
“I suppose you step on them,” said Big Daddy.
“You’re darn right I do,” Bobby said.
The cloudfish wrote a message overhead: BOBBY’S A LOSER!
“I happen to be number one in my class,” Bobby said.
They wrote another message: YOU’RE STILL A LOSER!
I’d never seen Bobby so mad. The words that came out of Tula’s mouth made him even madder.
“Giles is right, Bobby. Manhattan has a delicate ecosystem. The elimination of mice will have a devastating effect on the cat population.”
“Do not worry,” said Big Daddy. “My children will not pick up food. Only plastics and glass and paper and paper byproducts. We just want recyclables.” He walked over to the kitchen window and looked down at the city. “If someone drops a Big Mac on the street, my children will not pick it up. The mice and the rats and the ants and the squirrels and the pigeons and the crows and the seagulls will take care of it. That’s their job. What we’re going after is the wrapper. This we can turn back into trees. We cannot take a Big Mac and turn it back into a cow.”
“Dr. Sprinkles is working on that,” Tula said.
Nikki melted some butter in the microwave and poured it on Stanley’s bowl of quarters.
“Thank you, Nikki,” Stanley said.
“What about the homeless?” I said. “They collect bottles and cans for money. We’re taking away their source of income.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Bobby said, jumping up from the table, pacing furiously back and forth. “If we get evicted our entire species will be homeless.”
“Are you sure you’re number one in your class?” asked Big Daddy.
“Why is everyone picking on me?” Bobby yelled.
BECAUSE YOU’RE A LOSER! wrote the cloudfish.
Bobby stormed out of the room. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.
“Giles, don’t worry about the homeless,” Toshi said. “They’ll only be without bottles and cans for one day. The city will go back to its filthy old ways on Monday.”
“It better not,” Tula said. “Or your species will be in big trouble.”
“This quest will be a blessing for the homeless, Giles,” Big Daddy said. “When my children clean the streets they’ll find money and jewelry people have accidentally dropped. We’ll give it to the homeless.”
“Why can’t we keep it?” Toshi asked.
“Kindness first,” Tula said. “Always at all times. Always.”
“That’s our motto,” I said.
Tula gave me a big, stupid grin. If I got stranded in a desert, I’d rather have a big, stupid grin than a canteen full of water. I could live off it for months.
I went to see Bobby in command and control. For the first time in my life I felt bad that he was getting picked on.
“The cloudfish pick on everyone, Bobby. Not just you,” I said. “Look. They’re even teasing the flight of stairs.”
Two dolphin cloudfish chased the flight of stairs around the room. It took me a couple of minutes to shoo the frisky cloudfish out into the living room.
Finally able to feel safe, the flight of stairs fluttered down to the ground, ch
irping merrily. Bobby tossed it some breadcrumbs and climbed up to his computer console. I followed him. All the buttons and gauges and flickering lights on a spaceship were nothing compared to what Bobby had on his console.
“Have you figured out how to work all these gadgets?” I said.
“Of course I have,” he said.
I knew he’d say that. I wanted him to. We couldn’t afford to have him moping. He was an integral part of the team.
“Just watch this.” Bobby pressed a button.
“What is it?”
“Not only can I see all of New York on these screens,” Bobby bragged. “I can see the entire universe.”
A baby crib appeared on one of the wall screens, floating in deep space. It terrified me. You’re probably wondering how a baby crib could freak someone out. Well, this crib was one thousand miles long. The bars on the crib were made out of boiling bloodred mist. The entire thing rested on four giant pillars of black fog that crackled with lightning. Only Kundabons could hatch in a place like that. There must’ve been thousands of them inside that colossal crib.
Bobby twirled a knob on his console, giving us a glimpse inside the crib. What we discovered weren’t a bunch of baby Kundabons. The crib contained half a dozen massive discs of blinding light.
“What are they?” I said.
“Baby stars,” Bobby replied.
“Baby what?”
“The universe is expanding, Giles. New stars are being born every day. They have to go somewhere. So they built the Stellar Nursery.”
The stars cuddled together under sheets of flame and burning blankets of cosmic dust. Whizzing all around them were gale force winds.
“Baby stars love chaos, Giles. They couldn’t live without it.”
“If you think that’s cool,” I said, “you should see the Bridgelings.”
“What’s a Bridgeling?” he asked.
I told him.
“Wait,” he said. “You mean they’re alive?”
He commanded his computer to track them down. The Bridgelings didn’t appear on any of the giant screens, though.
“I don’t get it,” Bobby said. “I have access to the entire cosmos.”
“Bridgelings are very mysterious. It doesn’t surprise me, Bobby.”
You Can't Have My Planet Page 12
