Freddie Ramos Springs into Action (5 page)

“Come on!” Gio stopped climbing and started cheering for me. “You can do it, Freddie. I know you can.”

And I did, just in time for my mother to start calling.

“FREDDIE! WHERE ARE YOU? IT'S TIME FOR DINNER!”

Gio grabbed my hand and we walked back to 29G with Puppy at our heels. “Ruff! Ruff!”

For dinner, Mom and I had tamales—the microwave kind.

“Sorry, Freddie,” Mom apologized. “There's no time after work to cook like Abuela did.”

“Her tamales were good,” I agreed.” But these are just fine.”

“No, no.” Mom shook her head, wiggling her gold hoop earrings. “No box is as good as Abuela's cooking.”

On Sundays, Abuela made all my favorites like pupusas stuffed with cheese, refried beans, and yucca. I miss arroz con leche—rice pudding—the most, because the kind that comes in plastic cups doesn't taste as good.

Abuela died six months after my soldier dad. It was really hard to have two funerals in one year. That was before we moved to Starwood Park. Before my mom learned how to smile again.

“How about a popsicle for dessert?” Mom asked, getting up from the table. On weeknights, all our food comes from the freezer or the delivery man.

“Sure!” I said. “Do you have red ones?”

We ate our popsicles on the front step. It was a nice night with lots of stars.

“How much homework do you have?” Mom asked.

“Not much.” I took another lick of my popsicle.

“How much is not much?” Mom raised her eyebrows. She was serious about school. Her plan was to save all her money and send me to college one day.

Before I could say I only had a few math problems and some social studies reading, Mom's cell phone jingled with music.

“Hola?” She put her finger on the other ear so she could hear better. “Hello? You want to speak to who? Freddie?”

“Who is it?” I asked, gulping down my last bite of popsicle.

“Mr. Vaslov,” Mom said. Her voice sounded puzzled. “He said your name and then the phone went dead.”

7. A Superhero with a Mom

“Mr. Vaslov!” I stood up and shouted. “I tried to find him all day!”

“I wonder what he wants,” Mom said.

That's when my face heated up. He was calling about the purple wristband! Mr. Vaslov must have been wondering where it was. I hoped he wasn't angry with me. I shouldn't have taken it without asking. I needed to apologize.

“You look worried, Freddie,” Mom said. “Is anything wrong?”

“I'm not sure,” I said. “But I'd like to talk to Mr. Vaslov.”

“It's still early,” Mom said. “Let's go over to his place and see if he's there.”

Good idea. I'd always wanted to see inside Mr. Vaslov's apartment. I wondered if he had cut-up computers and tools in there, too.

We walked over to 10B, where Mr. Vaslov lived, and rang the doorbell three times. No one answered.

“Let's try the toolshed,” I said.

The door was half open, just like I'd left it. And the computers were still blinking, the radio still beeping, and the TV still on. But no Mr. Vaslov.

“That's a little strange,” Mom said, peeking inside. “He left all the lights on and a glass of milk.”

The peanut butter sandwich was still there, too. Why didn't Mr. Vaslov come back to eat his food?

“Where else can we look?” I asked.

“Nowhere,” Mom said. “You have homework and school tomorrow.”

“But I need to talk to Mr. Vaslov!”

“In the morning,” Mom said, taking my shoulders and turning me around toward 29G.

I was worried about Mr. Vaslov. He had never been missing this long. But superheroes with moms like mine can't go out by themselves after dark. All I could do was set my alarm for six
A.M.

As soon as I heard it ring, I jumped out of bed and put on my super zapatos. Then, I took them off and got dressed. I didn't want to be seen running around in my blue and red pajamas again.

I ran over to 10B and rang the doorbell. No answer. I dashed over to the toolshed. The computers were still on and the peanut butter still uneaten.

I ran all around Starwood Park. The only thing I saw was Mr. Vaslov's ladder behind the brand new building, a few feet from Gio's beach ball. Where was Mr. Vaslov?

I ran around the buildings a second time and a third, but the ladder and the ball were still the only things I found. My Zapato Power wasn't working. I needed to use some brain power.

Why was Mr. Vaslov's ladder on the ground? He always picked his stuff up. This was almost as strange as his uneaten peanut butter.

What had I seen Mr. Vaslov use his ladder for? Sometimes he used it to fix stuff on the roof. Is that where he was?

I'd looked everywhere I could for Mr. Vaslov on the ground. The only place left was the air.

I pressed the button on my wristband and shot straight up.
BOING!
Not quite high enough to see the roof. I jumped again.
BOING!
BOING!
BOING!

I saw just over the edge. Someone was lying down. He had bushy gray hair.

“Mr. Vaslov!” I called. “I'm coming!”

BOING!
BOING!
BOING!

“Freddie!” he called back. “Get the ladder!”

The ladder!
BOING!
I landed on the ground. Why didn't I think of that myself?

My shoes might get me on the roof, but I had no way of getting down. I couldn't help Mr. Vaslov if I got stuck again.