I groaned and tried to sit up. My head throbbed. I tested my arms, my legs.
Nothing broken after all.
I looked up — and saw Zeke standing in my doorway. His eyes were wide with surprise. “Mom! Dad!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Marco has a bloody nose!”
Zeke jumped aside as Mom and Dad came thundering into the room. “What’s going on?” Dad cried. He bent down to pull me to my feet.
Mom started dabbing at my nose with a tissue. “What did you do? Marco? Are you hurt? Why were you down on the floor?”
“I … uh …” The words caught in my throat.
“He fell off his chair,” Zeke told them. “He was standing on his chair and he fell off it. And he landed on his face.”
I stood there blinking, feeling wobbly. Zeke hadn’t seen me fly. He only saw me fall.
Dad still had hold of my arm. “Did you deliberately jump off the chair?” he demanded. “You weren’t pretending to be a superhero again — were you, Marco?”
“No way. Of course not,” I insisted. I pressed the tissue to my nose. The nosebleed was stopping. “I … I told you. I was doing a science experiment. For extra credit.”
They always liked it when I did things for extra credit.
“But what’s this in your hair?” Mom asked. She shook her hand in my hair, and the powdery yeast came falling out.
“I think maybe I have dandruff,” I said.
Dad nodded his head. “Ninety percent of all accidents happen in the home,” he said. “You have to remember that, Marco.”
Dad is a total safety freak. He has a seatbelt on his Barcalounger!
Mom and Dad questioned me for a few more minutes. They made me promise I’d try a science experiment that wasn’t so dangerous. Then they went back downstairs.
Zeke sat on the edge of my bed. He had a strange smile on his face. “Sure you don’t want to play tetherball? I’ll let you win!”
“Get out of my room,” I growled. “Go on. Beat it, Zeke. And stop spying on me.”
He kicked the desk chair and sent it rolling to the wall. Then he stomped back to his room.
I closed the door behind him. I still felt a little shaky. But I was totally excited.
It actually worked! I thought. I really flew!
True. It was only for about ten seconds. But I really did take off and fly up to the ceiling.
Why didn’t it last longer?
I knew why. Flight was not my secret superpower.
The book said when I found my power, I would know it. It would stick with me.
I had to keep trying until I found the power hidden inside me.
I picked up the book and started turning pages.
Finding the SUPERSTRENGTH Within You …
Yes! Superstrength! I had a feeling this might be my secret power. I dropped onto my bed with the book in my lap and read the instructions.
If strength is your superpower, you can find it easily. You need to test yourself against the world’s strongest substance. Nothing is stronger than clear plastic kitchen wrap. It will stretch but not tear.
Wrap your body from the chest down in an entire roll of clear plastic wrap. Make a cocoon of plastic wrap. But keep your arms free. Then concentrate … concentrate. You will find the strength waiting to be discovered.
Okay. This sounded easy. And Mom and Dad would definitely approve. No jumping off chairs.
Downstairs, I heard music in the den. Mom and Dad were in there, reading. I crept to the kitchen and borrowed a roll of plastic wrap from the kitchen pantry.
I grew more and more excited as I carried it to my room and started to unroll it. I wrapped myself in the clear plastic, legs first. When my legs were covered in a thick layer, I started wrapping my waist.
Making a plastic-wrap cocoon was harder than it sounds. As I raised it to my chest, my hands kept fumbling the roll. I dropped it and the sticky plastic stuck to the roll.
I finally managed to pry it apart. I wrapped my chest, then worked my way down. It took a long time. There are miles of plastic wrap on one roll!
Finally, there I was. A plastic-wrap mummy. The empty box fell to the floor. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t move.
I felt sweat pour down my forehead and cheeks. It was HOT in there!
“Hope this works,” I muttered. “If I don’t have superstrength, I’ll never get out of this!”
I shut my eyes and concentrated. I pictured bulging muscles. A weight lifter raising gigantic weights above his head.
Concentrate … concentrate …
Suddenly, I felt something. The plastic wrap squeaked. It squeaked as it stretched. I heard it rip along my legs.
The wrap tore apart at my chest. I heard another loud rip — looked down. My T-shirt had popped open.
The muscles on my arms bulged. They expanded like balloons. My T-shirt ripped totally apart. My pants started to rip.
I could feel myself hulking up.
My whole body was growing … stretching … pulling against the plastic-wrap cocoon — until the plastic popped and fell away.
My chest roared out, shredding my T-shirt. My legs grew heavier … wider…. My jeans popped open as my waist swelled — and then the jeans ripped to shreds.
How long would this go on? Was I going to grow and grow until I was as big as the house? What if it didn’t stop?
Oh, wow. What if it didn’t stop?
A few seconds later, I heard a whoosh. Like air escaping a balloon.
The room swung around me. I felt dizzy. The ceiling tilted over my head.
It took only a second or two. The whole room seemed to shoot out. Then the floor rose up to meet me. And I shrank back to my normal size.
“Ohhhh.” I stood there shivering and shaking. The muscles in my arms and legs all quivered. My skin tingled. Everything itched and prickled and shook.
It worked! I thought. How totally amazing! It worked.
But again … for only about ten seconds.
I didn’t move. I guess I was in shock or something.
It took me a while to realize that I had completely burst out of my clothes. I was standing there totally naked!
And then out in the hall, I heard Zeke shouting: “Mom! Dad! Marco is doing weird things up here! Come quick! Come quick!”
I had to put something on before they got up here.
I stumbled to the closet. I tripped over my shredded jeans.
I could hear my parents’ footsteps running up the stairs.
“Hurry!” Zeke was shouting to them. “I think Marco is in trouble again!”
The little snitch.
No time. No time.
I grabbed my pajamas from the pile of dirty clothes on my floor.
“Marco was doing something weird!” Zeke said. The bedroom door started to swing open.
I scrambled into the pajamas, gasping, my heart pounding.
I kicked the shredded jeans and T-shirt under the bed as Mom burst into the room. She glanced all around.
Dad followed, a stern expression on his face. “Marco, what’s up this time?” he demanded.
Mom frowned at me. “Why are you wearing pajamas in the middle of the day? Are you feeling sick?”
“N-no,” I stammered. “I just wanted to be comfortable.” Lame. But it was the best I could do.
They both stared hard at me. Behind them in the doorway, that brat Zeke had his arms crossed in front of him. A big grin on his face. “He was doing something crazy in here. I heard him.”
Mom gazed at the Ooze book on my bed. “Are you still reading that comic book? Why don’t you go outside and get some fresh air?”
“Well … I’m kinda busy in here,” I said. “Maybe later.”
“He won’t play with me,” Zeke whined.
It took a while longer to get them all out of my room. I couldn’t shake off the trembly feeling. My skin still itched and tingled.
I stared at the Ooze book on the bed. Should I try one more superpower?
&n
bsp; I’d tried two powers and both were not for me. Maybe if I tried a third …
Then I had a sad thought: What if none of them work for me? What if I don’t have any superpowers?
What if I’m just a normal kid, not special at all?
I had to keep trying. I picked up the book.
Which power should I choose? It had to be a water power. I love to swim. I’m a good diver, too. It had to be a water power. Yes! Yes!
This time, I knew it would work!
The phone rang.
Startled, I dropped the book onto the floor. I clicked open my phone.
“Marco? What’s up?”
“Oh, hi, Gabriella,” I said into the phone. “Not much.”
I couldn’t tell her about my adventures with the Ooze book. She’d either laugh at me and call me a liar, or she’d want to come over and try to be a superhero, too!
“Didn’t you forget about something?” she asked. She didn’t wait for me to answer. “The comic book convention downtown?”
“Oh, no! Oh, wow!” I cried. “What time is it? Are we too late?”
How could I forget the comic book convention? It’s the most awesome day of the year for me.
The huge convention center was always mobbed with comic book fans. Every publisher had big displays. Dozens of artists and comic book writers were there. People walked around in superhero and supervillain costumes. Thousands of comics for sale.
“Are we going?” Gabriella asked.
“Of course,” I said. “Meet me at the bus stop in ten minutes.” I clicked the phone shut.
I started for the door. Oh, wait. I was still in my pajamas.
I pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Grabbed a wad of money from my secret hiding place at the back of my sock drawer. And hurried out of my room.
Zeke blocked my way to the stairs. “Can I come, too?”
“You were spying again?” I asked. “No way. You’re not coming.”
“Take me with you,” he insisted. He wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed tight. “I won’t let go unless you take me.”
I pried him off me. “No. Beat it.”
“But you get to go everywhere!” he cried. “I don’t get to go anywhere!”
“That’s because you’re a shrimp,” I said. “Maybe when I get back, I’ll play tetherball with you.”
“I don’t want to,” Zeke growled. He kicked me hard in the ankle and stomped into his room.
* * *
The convention center is a huge glass building that stretches for three or four city blocks. Gabriella and I bought our tickets and stepped into the enormous exhibition hall.
Every aisle was jammed with people. Awesome displays and booths and video screens and tall billboards and signs stretched as far as I could see. Voices rang out in an excited roar. Music blared.
It was too much to see and hear. I wanted to spend a week there!
We pushed our way through the video games section. Hundreds of people jammed the booths, testing out new games and game systems.
I stopped and watched a bunch of girls playing a 3-D battle game called Princess Wars. Princesses in long white gowns were swinging battle axes, trying to knock the tiaras off each other’s heads.
Gabriella and I turned a corner and bumped right into Cucumber and his sidekick, Carrot-Stick. They are the most popular members of the Salad League of Mutants. Some little kids were waving autograph books, trying to get the Vegetables of Iron to sign them.
We turned down another aisle. A man dressed as a dollar sign stood on a platform, laughing like a maniac and tossing piles of fake money into the air. He kept pointing to a green-and-white sign: CRAZY, INSANE PRICES PAID FOR YOUR COMIC COLLECTION.
“That reminds me,” Gabriella said. She bumped into me as a group of kids tore past. “Did you try any of those tests in your Ooze book? You know. About finding your superpowers?”
I was tempted to tell her the truth. But I knew it would only get me into trouble.
“No. You were right about those chapters,” I said. “They’re just filler. It’s a big fake. Forget about it.”
She studied me for a moment. Maybe she knew that I wasn’t exactly telling the truth.
The aisles got more crowded as we came near the comic book section. I passed a table of Louie Kablooey bobblehead dolls. Louie Kablooey has a very interesting superpower. He can blow himself to smithereens, like a bomb.
“They should make these bobblehead dolls explode when you shake them,” Gabriella said. “That would be way cool.”
“Hey, check it out!” I pointed to the end of the aisle. A big sign stretched across the back wall. Huge black oily letters spelled out OOZE. The word dripped down like an oil spill.
The Ooze display booth had to be a block long. Video screens showed preview scenes from next summer’s Ooze movie. Giant cutouts of The Ooze towered over both ends of the display. A wall of shelves held all the Ooze books, comics, games, and DVDs.
The booth was jammed with Ooze fans. It took Gabriella and me a long time to push our way to the front.
I watched part of the movie preview on a big video screen. In the movie, The Ooze poured himself over a group of helpless policemen. He became a tidal wave of gunk. The special effects were awesome!
I gazed down from the screen. I was standing in front of a table filled with Ooze products. “Sweet!” I cried. I studied the Ooze lunch boxes, sneakers, candy bars, posters. I picked up a box of Ooze Yogurt.
“Have you tried it, sonny?” a man asked. “Tastes like licorice. Feels like Ooze.”
“Cool,” I said.
The man nodded. He was lanky and thin. He had a red face, bright green eyes, and red hair tied behind his head in a ponytail.
He was dressed in a gray oil company uniform, with the word Ooze dripping on his pocket in red letters. His name badge said his name was Sammy.
“Sonny, have you seen the Ooze iPod holder?” he asked. He held one up. “It’s really made of ooze.”
Gabriella elbowed me. “Check out the graphic novels, Marco. I think they have them all.”
I turned and gazed at a wall of graphic novels. The Ooze stared out from every cover. My eyes went up and down the rows of books. I had every one of them at home.
I turned to Gabriella. “I don’t see The Wizard of Ooze,” I said. “That’s the only one that’s missing.”
Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder. Sammy narrowed his green eyes at me. “Come with me,” he said. “Now.”
He started to drag me away.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “What did I do?”
Sammy dragged me past a display of Ooze toothbrushes. They were definitely cool. The handles looked like dripping ooze. And they came with a tube of black Ooze toothpaste.
He didn’t say a word until we were at the back corner of the booth. “I just want to have a little talk,” he said. “Did I hear you mention The Wizard of Ooze graphic novel?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t in the display.”
He brushed a hand back through his fiery red hair and squinted at me. “Have you ever seen it, sonny?”
“I have it,” I said. “I bought a copy.”
He sucked in his breath. His eyes went wide.
It took him a while to speak. “Wow. Awesome, kid. It’s very rare,” he said finally. “Do you really have one? Did you read it?” He was breathing hard. Definitely excited.
“Yeah. It was pretty awesome,” I said.
He stared hard at me. His eyes glowed. His narrow shoulders twitched under the oil company shirt. I realized the shirt was much too big for him.
“Sonny, want to sell it to me?” he asked.
“My name is Marco,” I said.
“Want to sell it? I’ll give you a good price. Really.” His expression was intense. Like his life depended on getting that book.
Drops of sweat popped up on his forehead. He didn’t even try to hide how excited he was.
“I … don’t … think s
o,” I said.
“Seriously. I’ll give you a really good price,” Sammy said. He wiped sweat out of his eyes with the back of his hand.
I thought about the superpower chapters in the back of the book. I hadn’t tried them all. Sure, it was crazy. But my two tries had almost worked.
What if I had a superpower of some kind and didn’t know it?
“I really don’t want to sell,” I told Sammy. “I need it for my collection. I have them all, see.”
“I’ll buy your collection!” Sammy said. “Tell me. How much do you want for the whole collection?”
I took a step back. He was so crazed, he was spitting when he talked.
“Sorry,” I said. “I want to keep my collection.”
“What if I give you a hundred dollars for The Wizard of Ooze?” Sammy asked. “What if I give you three hundred dollars?”
I stared up at him. “For just that one book?”
He nodded. He wiped more sweat off his red forehead.
“That’s a lot of money,” I said.
He brought his face close to mine. “So you’ll do it?”
“No,” I said. “Sorry. I really want to keep it. I —”
“Okay, okay,” Sammy said. He took a deep breath. “No problem. No worries. Here. Take this, sonny.” He handed me a little white card. He pulled a stub of a pencil from his shirt pocket.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Fill it out,” he said. He handed me the pencil. “Just put down your name and address. To get on the Ooze mailing list. You’ll get all kinds of terrific offers.”
I leaned the card against the wall and filled it out. I started to hand it back to Sammy. But a shadow fell over him. A figure stepped up behind him.
I uttered a gasp — and dropped the card.
And I stared into the black, oily face of The Ooze!
He was immense!
I mean, Sammy was tall. A lot taller than me. But The Ooze stood over him like a mountain!
His head was lumpy, bubbly with the shine of oil. His eyes were black and round. When he opened his mouth, I saw two jagged rows of teeth around a bright blue tongue!
His broad shoulders oozed out from under the straps of the black overalls that were his costume. His muscles rippled, wet, gleaming.