Freddie Ramos Takes Off (2 page)

We both looked at my shoes. They were all torn up. Maria from next door said they looked like a dog chewed them. Mom promised to buy me new ones as soon as she paid this month's bills. Now Mom could use the money to buy something for herself. I had brand new purple sneakers with silver wings on the side!

2. I Race the Train

“Try them on,” Mr. Vaslov suggested. “See if they fit.”

The purple sneakers hugged my feet like they were made for me.

“Wow! They feel great!”

“All right, then,” Mr. Vaslov said in that voice grownups use when they're tired of you and ready to go back to their own stuff. “Go try them out. The train should be coming by any second.”

I stared at him. “Have you seen me racing the train?”

He grinned. “How could I miss it? You're out there by the track every afternoon.”

It was true. After a long day at school, trying to sit still every time Mrs. Lane reminded me, I needed to let loose. And the train rumbled by on its overhead track, shouting, “Race Me! Race Me!” We were a mile from the station. When I heard the train coming, I spread my arms out, like an airplane taking off. Airplanes can beat trains. Of course it was just pretend, but racing made me run faster.

“Here it comes!” Mr. Vaslov smiled as the walls of the toolshed started to shake.

I waved a quick goodbye and headed out the door.

The purple sneakers made a soft buzzing sound. My feet felt light. I ran faster and faster until the grass was just a blur beneath me.

Smoke whooshed out of my heels. The wind whipped across my cheeks. My legs whirled so fast I could hardly see them.

But I could see the train. It was up there beside me, falling behind! And I was zooming ahead, like a supercharged engine in my purple sneakers. Rápido! My pretend game had turned real! I was as fast as an airplane, racing the train. And winning!

When I got to the station, I dropped to the ground behind the fence. The train roared in over me. I'd just run a whole mile in a few seconds!

Talk about Zapato Power! I looked down at my purple sneakers. They were super shoes. I had super power! Where did Uncle Jorge get shoes like this? How fast could I get home to call him?

I stood up and spread out my arms.

My feet took off like jet wheels on a runway. One blink later, I was back at 29G.

3. The Mysteries Begin

“Gracias!” I shouted into the phone. “Thank you!”

“You're welcome,” Uncle Jorge said. “What did I do?”

“You sent me Zapato Power! The fastest sneakers in the world!”

“Sneakers?” Uncle Jorge repeated. “Sorry. It wasn't me.”

If Uncle Jorge hadn't sent me the shoes, who had?

“So what else is happening?” Uncle Jorge asked. “How's your head? You still keeping it short like a soldier?”

I laughed. Uncle Jorge always teased me about my hair. He said it made me look like my hero dad.

We talked a few minutes more. I told him about getting an
A
for the first time in spelling, and about the new basketball courts at school. Even though I'm shorter than most of the other guys, I can still get the ball through the hoop.

“Watch the mail,” Uncle Jorge promised just before he said goodbye. “I'll get paid next week and send you something good.”

“Thanks, Uncle Jorge.” I hung up the phone, still wondering where my purple sneakers came from.

Maybe Mom could tell me. I always called to tell her I got home all right anyway. She worked in a busy doctors' office, answering telephones. I munched on pretzels while I waited on hold, listening to music and an electronic voice telling me my call was important.

“Did you leave a box on the doorstep for me?” I asked when I finally got through.

“No, Freddie.” Mom sounded puzzled. “I always leave things for you on the table.”

I knew that was true, but when you're solving a mystery, you have to check everything out, even if it means saying mushy stuff to your mom on the phone.

“See you at six, mi hijito.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

I'd made enough phone calls. It was time to investigate in other places.

“I need to look at the box,” I realized.

But it was still at Mr. Vaslov's shed. I fed my guinea pig, Claude the Second, and left 29G, wearing my new purple sneakers. They felt like foam under my feet.

“Mr. Vaslov!” I knocked on the toolshed door.

He opened it wearing safety goggles, like a scientist.

“I'm busy now, Freddie,” he said. “Can I help you later?”

“I need the box my sneakers came in.”

“Why do you want that?” Mr. Vaslov pushed his goggles up.

“I'm trying to find out who gave me my purple sneakers.”

Mr. Vaslov scratched his face.

“Freddie,” he said. “Just enjoy the sneakers. Don't worry about where they came from.”

It was good advice, but I'm a curious guy.

“Please. Can you tell me where the box is?”

Mr. Vaslov pushed his goggles back down over his blue eyes.

“I put it out for the trash.” He closed the door.

Luckily, the box was beside the smelly dumpster, not in it. My name and 29G, Starwood Park Apartments were written on the front in big black letters. There were lots of stamps on the box but no return address. I checked again for a card. Nothing.

All I knew was that the box came in the mail.

It wasn't much to go on.

What would my dad say about getting magic shoes in the mail?

Whenever I couldn't figure something out, I always tried to imagine what my father would tell me if he was around. It wasn't easy because I didn't have much time with him. He was off being a soldier most of my life. And then he wasn't there at all.

“Any luck with the box?” a voice above me asked.

I looked up to see Mr. Vaslov. He had a bag of garbage in his hand.

“No. It didn't tell me much of anything.”

“Might as well give up, then,” Mr. Vaslov said. “It's getting late.”

I looked at my watch. Mom would be getting off the train soon. I thought about using my Zapato Power and running back to the station to surprise her. But then I thought about what I would say when Mom saw my new purple sneakers. I hadn't quite decided yet. What if she wouldn't let me keep them if I didn't know where they came from?

“I'd better go home,” I told Mr. Vaslov. “Mom likes to see me doing my homework when she comes through the door.”

4. A Pretty Regular Night for A Superhero