Freddie Ramos Takes Off (4 page)

“My book!” he called. “How'd you get it?”

Part of me wanted to say, “Hey! I have magic sneakers and I can run faster than any kid on earth!”

The other part of me knew my Zapato Power had to be a secret. How could I be a superhero if everyone knew where my power came from?

“I saw you forgot it, so I brought it for you,” I said, handing the book over.

“Thanks!”

I know it's not the same as saving someone from a burning building, but it felt good to see Jason smile. And it felt good to know that I could run through the school, right past the principal, and all she would see was a puff of buzzing smoke.

My next chance to help someone came when we got back from the library. Maria remembered she'd left her lunch at home.

“I don't like meat loaf.” She crossed her arms and pouted. “Why did I forget my lunch on meat loaf day?”

I raised my hand like a rocket. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

Even though Mrs. Lane was pretty strict, she said yes. Ever since Justin had an accident, Mrs. Lane always said yes to the bathroom.

“Don't be long,” she said. “We're leaving for lunch soon.”

My feet buzzed with smoke the second I left the classroom.

I was back in Starwood Park, standing at Maria's front step, talking to Gio, Maria's little brother.

Gio is five. He only goes to kindergarten in the morning.

“See my puppy!” Gio said, holding it up for me to see. “I love my puppy.”

He hugged a little black dog with cute white ears.

“Nice,” I said. “What's its name?”

“Puppy,” Gio said.

He walked away with the dog. I ran into Maria's house. Her mother was in the kitchen, but all she saw was a paper lunch bag disappear in a wisp of smoke.

6. Poopee Isn't Good for Starwood Park

I should have been back at school with Maria's lunch in two seconds. But the toolshed made me stop. The door was open, and someone had written on the side in big red letters:

POOPEE

Mr. Vaslov had worked hard to paint the toolshed white. Now it had a big red bathroom word on it.

This wasn't good for Starwood Park.

I put down Maria's lunch and ran for some soap and water. In seconds, the shed was clean. But where was Maria's lunch? The paper bag was gone! I looked at my watch. It was time to wash hands and line up for the cafeteria. My chance to be a hero with Maria's lunch was over. I'd be lucky if I saved myself from Mrs. Lane. I closed the shed door.

I zipped back to school in a swirl of buzzing smoke.

“Why did you take so long in the bathroom?” Mrs. Lane asked when I walked into the room.

“I had a lot to do.”

Mrs. Lane looked at me kind of funny, but that's all. Most teachers aren't brave enough to ask exactly what a kid did in the bathroom.

At lunch, Maria squished her meat loaf with her fork.

“What I need is super speed,” she said. “Then I could run home. Mama packed banana and jelly for me today.”

Banana and jelly did not sound better to me than meat loaf, but I didn't tell Maria that. I also didn't tell her that super speed wouldn't help now that someone had stolen her lunch. Who would do that? And who wrote
POOPEE
on the toolshed? My head was full of questions, including who gave me my purple sneakers. Was Mom right? Did they come from one of my Dad's old friends?

All I knew was what I was going to do with my Zapato Power. I was going to stop whoever was trying to mess up Starwood Park.

At recess, my feet hummed like water rushing through pipes. From the playground, I can see my front door.

I was back home in half a blink, looking for answers. But I found more
POOPEE
than answers. This time someone had written
POOPEE
on the sidewalk.

I don't want Mom to see this
, I thought. She'll think Starwood Park is turning into a bad neighborhood. We'll have to move again.

In a flash, I got more soap and water. The sidewalk was clean, but my brain was still dirty with questions. Who wrote
POOPEE
? Who stole Maria's lunch? And could Zapato Power help me solve both mysteries?

I looked behind the tool-shed. Nothing there except the yellow flowers Mr. Vaslov planted.

I ran around the building twice, searching the walls and sidewalks for more red
POOPEE
. I didn't see any other bad words, but I did notice something else. The smoke coming from my sneakers covered me in a light cloud that made things sharper and clearer, like I was looking through a telescope. I could see every line between the bricks and the pattern of the curtains behind the windows.

If my purple sneakers came from one of Dad's soldier friends, they
could
be part of some kind of top secret army project. Could they do other stuff I didn't know about yet?