Never Fear, Meena's Here!

by Karla Manternach

  Then I turn into the wind and gaze out at the horizon so the whole first grade can see me in profile, like the label on the side of the can when someone takes a drink in a soda commercial.

  The lines start to move. Kids whisper and point all around me as I stride down the hall, holding my head high.

  When we get to our cubbies, I turn and raise my eyebrows at Sofía. Well?

  She bites her lip and shrugs. Maybe.

  And I can’t help it. I grin.

  I am a superhero.

  6

  My head is buzzing as I put everything in my cubby and follow Sofía into the classroom. While papers shuffle onto desks and the pencil sharpener whizzes, I stare out the window, replaying the scene of how I saved that girl in my mind. I picture my leap from the curb and the way everybody turned to stare.

  Only this time, I imagine myself in a cape.

  A hand rests on my shoulder. I stiffen. Mrs. D is gazing down at me, a crinkle in her forehead. “Still with us?” she asks quietly.

  I nod, feeling the back of my neck get hot. She’s checking to see if I’m daydreaming or having one of my space-out seizures.

  At least she didn’t snap in my face this time.

  “I asked if you’re having school lunch today,” she says.

  “I brought mine.”

  Mrs. D makes a mark on the lunch slip and hands it to Maddy to take to the office.

  I guess she’s on Lunch Patrol this week. Lucky.

  “Take out your writing journals, please,” Mrs. D says. “The topic sentence is on the board.”

  I look around my pod of desks. On my right, Pedro is poking his pencil through a pink eraser. On my left, Eli is making pew-pew noises while he takes out his journal. Across from me, Sofía has already started writing.

  I pick up my pencil. But instead of writing, I rest my chin in my hand and picture myself soaring through the sky, my cape flapping in the wind behind me.

  * * *

  The rest of the day is school as usual. Mrs. D doesn’t hang my magic wand painting with the rest of the pandas because I didn’t follow directions. She marks me down in spelling just because I like “fotograf” better than how everyone else writes it. She even corrects the way I print my own name just because I won’t use that weird cursive Z that droops below the line.

  But you know what? Who cares if I have to write and paint the same as everyone else? Even Superman has to blend in to keep his true identity a secret. I might have to be careful not to stand out too much in school.

  That’s okay. I know who I really am. Even better, Sofía does too.

  So I don’t make a big deal out of it, but all day I keep on the lookout for rescue missions. My skin feels tingly and alive, which must be exactly how spider-sense feels. Everywhere I look, it seems like someone needs my help, and I am right there, in the nick of time, every time.

  BAM! I pick up a couple of empty milk cartons next to the trash.

  ZAP! I share my blue marker with Nora when hers dries out.

  POW! I hold the door for Mrs. D when she’s carrying a stack of books. “Why, thank you, Meena,” she says.

  I nod. “Ma’am.”

  For once in my life, I even watch my clip go up instead of down on the behavior chart.

  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Meena.” CLIP!

  “What good sharing, Meena.” CLIP!

  “You’ve been such a good helper today, Meena.” CLIP!

  The last time Mrs. D snaps my clothespin into place, I can’t believe my eyes. That’s my clip at the top of the chart, right there next to At My Best!

  “Is this your first time?” Mrs. D asks me, her eyes twinkling.

  I nod, unable to speak.

  “You know what that means,” she says.

  It means the Rainbow Ring does have special powers. It has to. No way could I have done this on my own.

  “What reward would you like to pick?” Mrs. D asks.

  I blink at her. All around me, kids start to chatter.

  “Extra recess,” says Aiden.

  “Bonus snack,” says Eli.

  “Prize drawer for everyone,” says Nora.

  Oh my gosh, that’s right!

  The first time someone clips to the top of the chart, they get to pick a reward for the whole class! It’s supposed to help us root for each other, but I forgot all about it. Everyone else got their rewards ages ago, but I’ve never made it to the top before!

  I sit up on my knees. “Can we play elimination?” I ask.

  Mrs. D checks the clock and grabs her whistle from her desk. “I think we have time for that.”

  I pump my fists in the air. The class cheers. This Ring is the best thing ever!

  Mrs. D lets me lead the way to the gym. I feel shiny and sparkly striding down the hall, the Ring bouncing on its shoestring against my chest. We used to play elimination at recess, but my class made so many kids in the other grades cry that now we’re only allowed to play it by ourselves, and only on special occasions.

  Like when one of us becomes a superhero!

  Lin and Pedro almost always win. They run fast and throw hard, and they never drop the ball. But it’s still fun to see who can stay in the game the longest. Now we gather in the center of the gym as Mrs. D grabs a playground ball. We get quiet as she steps into the middle of the circle. The whistle rattles on the chain around her neck. We stand still, waiting, heads down, bodies tense. The air smells like disinfectant and rubber mats.

  Mrs. D puts the whistle to her lips. Then she throws the ball straight up in the air and steps back from the circle.

  Tweeet!

  We’re off! Everyone breaks for the ball. Pedro gets it first and whips around. Kids shriek and sneakers squeak as we run the other way. He’s only allowed three big steps before he throws. One, two, three… SMACK! The ball hits Nora in the leg. She goes to sit out while Maddy picks up the ball and chases Lin into the corner. Maddy throws, but Lin catches it in the air. Maddy is out!

  Lin looks around then bounds forward, aims low, and thumps the boy next to me in the ankle as he scampers away. Out!

  I scoop up the ball and hit a girl in the shoulder. Out! I dive for the ball again, step one-two-three, and whack someone else. Another kid down!

  Eli picks up the ball, turns to me, and winds up. Not me, not me, not me! I always drop the ball! I hold my arms out, bracing myself for the stinging smack against my chest. But at the last second, Aiden runs past, and Eli throws at him instead. He misses, and Aiden scoops up the ball and whaps Eli! Then Pedro rebounds the ball and throws out Aiden.

  One kid after another goes to the bench. In a few minutes, there are only three of us left—and I’m one of them! The Ring must be making me faster or harder to see.

  The next time Pedro recovers the ball, Lin and I retreat to opposite corners. Just then, Mrs. D blows her whistle and calls, “Half-court!” Half the gym is out of bounds now. Lin and I edge closer, huddling in the corner farthest from Pedro. After his three big steps, he’s still too far away to throw us out. For a few seconds, he just stands there dribbling, sizing us up.

  Then he nods at Lin. She nods back.

  Hang on.… They’re ganging up on me!

  I scowl and grab hold of my Rainbow Ring. Not today, kids!

  One, two, three—Pedro closes the distance between us. He bounces the ball into the corner so Lin can grab it and throw me out.

  I race forward, but Lin is blocking me! We shove against each other, grunting. Just as Lin lunges for the ball, I hurtle myself on top of it.

  The kids on the bleachers gasp. There’s a split second when we both freeze. I’m flat on the floor, the ball trapped under my stomach, too surprised to move.

  Then Lin turns to run.

  I scramble up, chase one, two, three steps after her, and throw.

  Her whole body flinches upright when the ball hits her in the back.

  There’s a great big whoop from across the gym. Lin turns to me, her eyes wide.

  Hol
y hamster, I got her!

  I’m so stunned, watching Lin shuffle off to the sidelines, that I forget to rebound the ball.

  “Look out!” Sofía cries.

  Too late. Pedro rushes over and grabs it. I back away, into the corner. He’s right across from me, his eyes gleaming.

  I hold my breath, square my shoulders, and wait.

  One, two, three—Pedro throws at my legs. I jump—miss! The ball bounces off the wall. He grabs it, closes in, and throws at my shoulder. I leap to the side and hear it smack the wall—miss! He grabs it again. He’s right in front of me!

  I open my arms and close my eyes.

  SMACK!

  Silence.

  Then cheering. “He’s out! Pedro’s out!”

  I blink my eyes open. Slowly, everything comes into focus: Pedro staring at me, his mouth hanging open. The rest of the class is across the gym, jumping and shouting.

  My chest is stinging. I look down.

  The ball is in my arms.

  I caught it. I actually caught it!

  Everyone rushes over and crowds around, almost knocking me over. I look above their heads for Sofía, the only one left standing by the bleachers. She’s shaking her head and smiling.

  That’s all I see before the throng of kids presses me out of the gym, like I’m in a parade, band playing, streamers flying. Even though I’m pretty sure my feet never leave the floor, if feels like they hoist me onto their shoulders and carry me down the hall.

  7

  All week long, I feel my powers growing.

  I’m still not exactly sure what they are, but I’m definitely different all over. I feel strong. Electric, even. Everywhere I look, I see problems to solve and people to save.

  Other kids must feel it too, because they pick me for their teams. They try to sit by me at lunch. One of the first graders even asks for my autograph! Everyone treats me like a hero.

  Everyone except Sofía, that is. She doesn’t treat me any differently at all.

  When the other kids drag me away to play kickball, Sofía goes off to help Eli with his foghorn. When we pick partners for a social studies project, she pairs up with Lin instead of me—just because Lin asked her first. Then, when we stay in for recess, and I think it’s finally going to be just the two of us, she invites Maddy and Nora to stay in too!

  It’s starting to get on my nerves.

  At least we can test my powers some more when we go to her house after school on Friday. It’s been hard to figure out what I can do with everyone crowding around me this week. Maybe when we’re alone, I’ll perform a feat so amazing that Sofía will have to be impressed.

  I’m bursting to get started, but we’re barely two steps out of the building after school when a blur of rusty hair and sneakers goes flying past.

  “Hey, Eli!” Sofía yells.

  He turns around but keeps jogging in place on the sidewalk. “What?”

  At least he’s talking instead of blasting that police siren he’s been working on.

  “Are you ready for your concert?”

  Eli grins. “I just have to practice my armpit farts. Riley gets home tonight!”

  “Do you have plans?” Sofía asks.

  “We’ll probably hang out, just the two of us.” Eli brightens. “I’m going to show him my new chickens and my walnut collection, and then we can stay up late and watch a scary movie and see who can eat the most jawbreakers. Maybe we’ll even sleep out in the igloo!”

  “When are the rest of us coming over?” I ask.

  “I want to go with him in the morning to swim laps, so maybe after that. Hey! You want to hear me burp the alphabet?”

  I grab Sofía’s wrist to make a run for it, but she plants her feet and pulls away. “Yeah,” she says.

  So I’m stuck there while Eli swallows a big gulp of air and starts croaking out letters.

  “A-B-C…” He gasps. “D-E-F-G…”

  By the time he gets to Z, he’s red in the face and breathless, but Sofía bounces on her toes and starts clapping. “That was awesome,” she squeals.

  Eli smiles, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Riley can do it all in one breath,” he says, “but I’ll keep practicing. See you!” He turns and runs for home, holding up his hand to wave without looking back.

  Sofía giggles as she watches him go. I cross my arms at her. “You act like that was the greatest thing ever,” I say.

  She smirks. “It was pretty great.”

  I lower my voice to a fierce whisper. “I can control people’s minds. I might even be able to fly. What’s so exciting about Eli’s burps?”

  She shrugs. “He worked really hard at them.”

  I shake my head. Whatever. I’ll show her something a zillion times better.

  Just as soon as I figure out what I can do.

  * * *

  Sofía lives on the first floor of a yellow house with white shutters a few blocks from school. Her dad works at night and sleeps during the day, so we creep up the porch steps, push through the front door, and set down our things as quietly as we can. When Sofía whisper-calls to the kitchen, her mom glides down the hall in a plushy lavender tracksuit. It looks so soft that I get a little jealous when she hugs Sofía—until she opens her arms to me, and I get a turn.

  I always like listening to them talk to each other. Pretty much all the Spanish I know is my colors and numbers up to ten, so I never quite get over feeling impressed that Sofía knows two words for everything. Sometimes I quiz her, just to be sure. “Fruit,” I say. “Fruta,” she says. “Flowers,” I say. “Flores.” Sometimes the words sound so different that I think she might be trying to trick me. “Trash,” I say. “Basura.” See what I mean?

  Sofía’s cat threads his way through our legs, purring like a motorboat. His fur is spotted black and white and orange, so she named him Oriol—after the bird. “Hola, cariño,” she says, stroking his tail.

  Even Oriol knows more Spanish than I do.

  Sofía’s mom says something else and heads to the kitchen.

  “She said to play outside,” Sofía says. “She’ll bring us a snack.”

  My favorite thing to eat at Sofía’s house is this soft candy that you scoop out of its own little tray with a stick. It comes in a bunch of flavors, but the best one is like a teeny little box of Neapolitan ice cream, except it’s not cold, and you get to eat the whole thing yourself.

  I decide to test out my powers right then and there.

  While I follow Sofía out the back door, I half close my eyes and fill my mind with the name of the candy, pushing it toward Sofía’s mom like I’m making a big wave in the bathtub. WHOOSH—Duvalín. WHOOSH—Duvalín Tri Sabor.

  Right when we plop down on the back stoop, Sofía’s mom appears in the doorway, waving two packets of Duvalín.

  BAM!

  When she’s gone, I give Sofía a smug look. “I told her to bring these with my mind.”

  Sofía stops peeling back the plastic wrapper. “You’re testing your powers on my mom?”

  “Sure.”

  Her face reddens. “You shouldn’t do that without asking, Meena.”

  “Why not? She didn’t even know.”

  “Have you been trying to mind-control me?”

  “No!”

  “You’d better not.”

  “Geez.” I stab my candy. “What’s the big deal?”

  “It just seems like stealing.” Sofía scrapes strawberry goo onto her plastic stick. “Besides, if you do have powers, you should use them to help people, not just to get stuff you want.”

  “What do you mean, ‘if’?”

  Sofía sucks on her stick and doesn’t answer.

  She still isn’t sure? Well, how am I supposed to prove it to her? It’s been a whole week, and I haven’t seen a single person run out of a burning building or dangle from a cliff.

  Behind us, the cat flap in the door slaps shut as Oriol slinks through. He stops, points his tail, and starts ack-ack-ing at a sparrow that’s grooming itself at t
he top of Sofía’s old kiddie slide.

  She clicks her teeth at him. “Calmate, tonto.”

  “How about Oriol?” I ask. “Can I test my powers on him?”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “What do you want to make him do?”

  “Nothing bad. I’ll just call him with my mind.”

  She laughs. “He’s a cat. He won’t come.”

  I let out a huffy breath. “I don’t get it,” I say. “One minute, you don’t want me to use my powers, and the next minute, you act like they don’t work anyway.”

  She presses her lips together. “Fine. Go ahead.”

  I set down my candy and step closer to Oriol. I crouch down and hold out my hand. Here, kitty kitty, I think.

  Oriol stops ack-ing and looks at me, his yellow eyes round and glassy.

  Come here, Oriol.

  He reaches a paw in front of him. Then the other.

  That’s it, come to Meena.

  He stretches his hindquarters into the air.

  You can do it, Oriol. Good kitty!

  Then he rolls onto his back and shows his tummy to the sky.

  Sofía covers her mouth, her eyes flickering with laughter.

  “Whatever,” I say, blushing. “I bet it would work if I knew his language.”

  “What, cat?”

  “No, Spanish.”

  Suddenly, Oriol flips onto his feet and zips up the little slide, chasing the sparrow away.

  Hang on… That gives me an idea.

  Maybe I can leap tall buildings in a single bound!

  I shoo Oriol off the slide and drag it to the middle of the yard so I can use it as a ramp. Then I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and picture myself soaring high over the roof, as graceful as a ballerina.

  Except in a cape.

  “Watch this,” I say, jogging back a ways. I put my head down, stamp my feet like a bull, and take off running, pumping my arms and stomping my feet against the ground.

  Only just as I’m about to run up the slide and ramp into the air, Oriol screeches.

  I stop short.

  Sofía springs to her feet. “Oriol.”

  He hunches down and hisses at me, his ears flat, tail smacking.