Super Amos (3 page)

Dunc yawned and pushed open the screen door. He reached for the morning newspaper. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something black rocking back and forth on his porch swing.

It was Amos. He was covered in soot from head to toe and had bumps all over his forehead. One eye was swollen shut.

“What happened to you?”

Amos stopped swinging. “I went over to Mrs. Weatherby’s to finish cleaning her garage early this morning like you told me to.”

“And?”

“And Mr. and Mrs. Weatherby asked me
to keep an eye on the place for a few minutes while they went downtown. So there I was working away, minding my own business, when the phone rang.”

“Uh-oh.” Dunc rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the porch. He knew about Amos’s problem with telephones. Amos couldn’t resist a ringing telephone. Every time he heard one he was positive it was Melissa Hansen calling to talk to him. Dunc never quite understood this, because Melissa had never even spoken to Amos, except for the time she got amnesia and married him during a class project, but that didn’t count. Dunc sighed and popped the rubber band off the newspaper. “What did you destroy this time?”

“The property damage was minimal. But Mrs. Weatherby’s mother may never be the same.”

“What happened?”

“Like I said, I heard the phone. And you know how Melissa likes me to get it on that all-important first ring?”

Dunc nodded.

“You would have been proud of me. I was
at the back door by the middle of the ring. The only problem was, it was locked. So I raced around to the front door. It was locked too. The first ring had already ended and the second was starting. I was getting desperate.”

“So what did you do?”

“I noticed a side window was open a crack. I opened it all the way and was through it before the end of the second ring—almost.”

“Almost?”

“I fell in on top of Mrs. Weatherby’s mother. She was in bed sound asleep. Her hearing isn’t so good.”

“Was she mad?”

“Let’s just say I know how Mrs. Weatherby learned to be so good with her broom. Her mother came after me with a cane. She backed me into the fireplace and held me there while she called the police. Good thing there wasn’t a fire going.” Amos stood up and tried to brush the soot off his clothes. “It worked out okay, though, because the Weatherbys made it back just as the police drove up. Mrs. Weatherby told me to go
home. She said I didn’t have to finish the garage. In fact she said she’d appreciate it if I never set foot on her property again.”

“Hmmm. That’s interesting.”

“What? That I’m not allowed back at the Weatherbys’?”

“No.” Dunc held up the newspaper. “That the city council appointed a new treasury trustee.”

“What’s so interesting about that?”

“They appointed Professor Brainard.”

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“Tell me again. Why are we doing this?”

Dunc handed Amos a clipboard. “Because pretending to ask these survey questions will help us get to talk to the city council members and find out why they hired Brainard.” He pointed at Amos’s hair. “You’ve still got some soot in it.”

Amos jerked a cap out of his back pocket and pulled it down low on his head. “Why do we care who they appoint as treasury trustee anyway? Maybe Professor Brainard is good with money.”

“I just bet he is—other people’s money.”

“Why are you so down on the guy? You only met him for a few seconds.”

“For one thing, it doesn’t make sense that they would appoint a man who just moved to town. And if Brainard doesn’t have anything to hide, why does he stay in the shadows and act so mysterious?”

“I’d hide too if I had a face like that.”

Dunc stopped. “What are you talking about? We never got a good look at him.”

“I did. Not at him personally, but at his picture. One side of his face was really messed up. Like maybe he’d been in a fire or something.”

“Did you notice anything about his eyes?”

“I noticed they gave me the creeps.”

“Me too. I got the feeling they had some kind of strange power.”

“To do what?”

“I’m not sure.” Dunc straightened his shoulders, jumped up on Mayor Dudley’s porch, and rang the doorbell. “Remember to let me do all the talking.”

Amos stepped up behind him. “Why not? It’s what you do best.”

Dunc made a face at him but didn’t have time to answer because the door opened. A friendly-looking silver-haired woman smiled down at them. “Hello, boys. Say, you’re that nice boy who used to deliver my paper, aren’t you?”

Dunc nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re not here to collect, are you?”

“No, ma’am. We’re taking a survey of the city council members for a project we’re working on and we were wondering if we could speak to your husband.”

“That might be difficult.”

“Excuse me?”

“Herbert has been acting a little strange lately. He won’t talk to anyone. Not even me. He just sits and stares at the wall for hours. The only time he moves is late in the afternoon. Then he gets in the car and takes a drive.”

“How long has he been like this?”

“Almost a week now.”

Dunc looked at Amos. “That’s just about when he moved here.”

Mrs. Dudley looked confused. “When who moved here, dear?”

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Dudley. I’m sure your husband will be back to his old self soon.” Dunc stepped off the porch. “We’ll interview another council member for our project. Maybe Mr. Brunson will be home this morning.”

“I wouldn’t go over there if I were you.” Mrs. Dudley leaned out the door. “His wife tells me he’s been acting strange too.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, several of the council members haven’t been feeling too well lately. Must be something in the water down at City Hall.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Dudley. Bye.” Dunc walked to the sidewalk and hopped on his bike.

“Wait for me,” Amos called. He dropped the clipboard into his backpack and ran after Dunc. “Where are we going now?”

“We’re going to follow up on your idea, Amos.”

“It’s about time.” Amos scratched his head. “Which idea was that?”

“You know. The one where we go out and talk to Mr. Smith at the junkyard.”

“I don’t remember having an idea like
that. All I said was Mr. Smith was bound to be Lightning Man because of the suit and everything. But I never said I wanted to go there. Because he has a very big wonder dog who could swallow both of us in one bite. No. I’m positive I didn’t say …” He looked up. Dunc was already halfway down the street.

Amos sighed. “Why me?” But he followed.

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“Oh, great. It’s locked again.” Dunc jiggled the chain on the junkyard fence.

“I guess that means we’ll have to come back some other time.” Amos turned his bike around.

Dunc cupped his hands and yelled. “Mr. Smith!” There was no answer. He called again but there was still no answer.

Amos leaned over his handlebars. “The man obviously doesn’t want visitors.”

Dunc got off his bike and put down the kickstand. He walked along the chain-link fence and turned the corner. In a few seconds
he ran back to the corner and motioned furiously for Amos to come.

“You go on ahead.” Amos waved back at him. “I’ll stay here and guard the bikes.”

Dunc motioned harder.

“Oh, all right.” Amos dropped his bike. As he reached the corner, he muttered, “But if he thinks I’m climbing that fence again—”

“Shhh!” Dunc pulled him down. “Look over there.”

Hercules was barking excitedly and running in circles. Mr. Smith was standing near the dog, dressed in the shiny red suit, a black mask, and red boots. Effortlessly Mr. Smith jumped up on one of the cars and pushed the center of the buckle on his belt. A yellow glow grew around him until his entire body was surrounded with light.

Then he was gone.

Dunc stared at Amos. Amos stared back with wide eyes. “I told you he’s Lightning Man!”

Hercules sat down as if someone had ordered him to stay.

Dunc stepped closer to the fence. “Where did he go?” He felt a tap on his shoulder.

“I’m here. Right behind you.”

The same yellow light appeared and Mr. Smith materialized out of it. “What do you think of my latest invention, boys?”

They were speechless. Dunc stared with his mouth open. Amos tried to talk but no sounds came out.

Mr. Smith looked down at his costume. “Maybe it’s a little too much. Oh well, come on inside, boys. We’ll have some hot chocolate and then I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

They followed him in stunned silence through a side gate and into the old house. Mr. Smith changed out of the suit and brought in a tray.

Amos took one of the cups and finally spoke. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry. Your secret is safe with us, Mr. Lightning.”

Mr. Smith ran his hand through his white hair and laughed. “So you’re a fan of mine?”

Amos nodded. “I’ve read every single adventure including the last one, where you retire. Which, by the way, you shouldn’t do because there are too many bad guys left out there.”

“Hold on now. Let’s get something straight. I’m not really Lightning Man. Oh, I created him, all right. But he’s only imaginary, a comic-book character that I made up. I’ve been writing about Lightning Man for years. It makes it a little easier to come up with new stories if I get into costume.”

Amos’s eyes narrowed. “We saw you disappear.”

“Oh, that.” Mr. Smith waved his hand as if it had been nothing. “Before I became a comic-book writer, I used to invent things. I even worked at a government plant that specialized in nuclear technology. That’s where I invented the rubber on the bottom of those boots. It has a special ingredient to help you jump higher.”

Amos still didn’t look convinced.

Mr. Smith continued. “I’ve been toying around with that dematerialization belt for a while now. It looks like I’m about to get it to function properly.”

“How does it work?” Dunc asked. “Something like that could be an important discovery.”

Mr. Smith blushed. “It’s simple, really.
It still has one big problem, though. You can’t control when you might be visible again. I was afraid you boys would see me walking out the gate. It wouldn’t have made much of an impression that way.”

Amos looked disappointed. “So you’re really not Lightning Man?”

“Afraid not, son. Sorry.”

Dunc took a sip of his hot chocolate. “Mr. Smith, how well do you know Professor Brainard?”

Hercules gave a low growl at the mention of the name.

“Hrummp.” The elderly man set his cup down. “Too well. He’s a fake. A charlatan who used to tell fortunes and hypnotize people at two-bit county fairs and then steal their wallets.”

“How did you meet him?”

“He faked some papers and weaseled his way into the plant where I used to work. They promoted him over the rest of us even though he didn’t have a clue about being a real scientist. He paid for it, though. One day he was trying to steal some chemicals and they exploded in his face. One side of
his face was burned rather badly. After that he left and I never heard about him again—until now, that is.”

Dunc leaned forward. “Then you know he’s staying at the old Grogan mansion?”

“I know. That’s what I’m doing here. Since I’m one of the few people who know him by sight, the government asked me to come down and get a positive ID on him.” He stood up. “As a matter of fact, that’s where my favor comes in. I need you boys to look after Hercules for me for a few days while I fly back to Washington to meet with the FBI.”

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