The Society of Super Secret Heroes (10 page)

Not broke, Master—bent. I never spoke the words
Thinking Cape
in your head. You puzzled them out on your own.

“It was just luck,” Fin said. They were in front of his house now. He pressed the doorbell. Then he thought of one more question. “What happened to all the other capes from your cape maker's shop? Do you know where they are now?”

Finch reached up and stroked his shoulder. He'd never thought about the cape being lonely. “Maybe they're just in hiding—like you,” he whispered.

Suddenly the door flew open. “What do you want?” Mimi snapped. She'd tied a red bandanna over her hair, and she was wearing an old T-shirt with nail-polish stains. She looked more like Gloria, the cleaning lady, than her usual supermodelish self.

“Doh—I live here.” Finch pushed past her into the house and stomped toward his room. But a mountain of junk in the hallway stopped him. Rosie and Cubby were climbing over it as if it were some new kind of ferret jungle gym.

“What's this stuff doing here?” he asked as he picked up a pair of old shin guards.

“I'm having a yard sale to raise money for the tuition to private school.” Mimi was right behind him.

“But these are mine.”

“So? They're too small for you, anyway. You haven't worn them since first grade.”

“You can't have them!” Finch hugged the plastic shields to his chest. “I'm saving them for when Jake gets bigger.”

“Uh-huh.” Mimi pursed her lips in the same unconvinced look his mother sometimes gave him.

He ignored her and eyed the rest of the stuff she'd collected. Piles of paperbacks; old figure skates (Rosie now had her head in one); a little pink backpack; a Barbie bus (Cubby was climbing into it); a Betty Crocker Easy-Bake Oven that Finch had once secretly yearned for himself; his stuffed tiger, Daniel; and—

“Hey!” he yelped. “You can't sell Daniel.”

“Why not? You don't play with it anymore. We should definitely sell this, too. I can't believe you're actually wearing it.” Mimi plucked the cape off Fin's shoulders and tossed it onto the pile.

“Give that back!” Finch yanked the cape off a rickety old ferret cage. It was the one the pet store had given them free for buying two baby ferrets. Since then, they'd bought Rosie and Cubby a super-deluxe ferret condo.

“I thought you were through with superheroes.”

“I am. But this cape is my . . . my . . . history!” Finch sputtered.

Mimi fingered the satin strings thoughtfully. “I remember when you brought this thing home from the garage sale. For a secondhand towel, it's in amazingly good shape. It doesn't look worn out at all.”

Finch shrugged. “Maybe it's because it doesn't get washed very often.”

Mimi sniffed the cape. “It doesn't even stink. I bet I could get two dollars for it.”

“Well, you can't have it—or any of my stuff.” Finch tugged the strings out of her hand. He took a good look at the pile again. “You're selling your shell collection?”

Mimi eyed the box of shells scornfully. “I got most of them with Kelly two years ago when her parents took us to Cape Cod. I don't want them anymore.”

“Can I have them?” Finch was already reaching for the box.

“Nope—not unless you let me have your junk to sell.”

“All right. I guess you can have these.” Finch held out the shin guards.

“What about the rest?”

“What? The shin guards are worth more than those shells.”

“Not to me.” Mimi started to walk away. “I'm going to check the spare room for more stuff.”

Finch took a deep breath. “Okay. I'll let you have Daniel. Just don't sell him to anyone with little kids that look like biters or kickers.” He gave the scraggly tiger a farewell pat.

Mimi tossed Daniel back on her pile. “What about the cape?”

“I'M NOT GIVING YOU MY CAPE!” Finch screamed.

Mimi's mouth settled into a smirk. “You don't have to be a baby about it. Keep your stupid cape. I'll let you have the shells—if you help me drag this stuff over to the garage. There's so much to do to be ready by next Saturday. I've got to make signs to hang around the neighborhood, and put price tags on everything. And I'm going to make cookies and lemonade to sell.”

Finch wished he could put a price tag on his sister and sell her. But he picked up a stack of books and followed her into the garage.

“Does Mom know you want to go to private school?”

“Yes.”

“So she's for it?”

“Not exactly. She thinks I'm just having a hard time adjusting to seventh grade. She says I should be patient. She's sure Kelly and I will make up.” Mimi rolled her eyes back so far, they were hidden under her bangs.

“Maybe Mom's right.” Finch set down the stack of books.

“No way. Kelly doesn't care about me. Holly is her new best friend now.”

“That really stinks,” Finch said in a froggy voice. If the guys decided not to be friends with him anymore, he wouldn't want to go to school either. One day last year, Raj, Kev, and Elliott had all been absent. Finch hadn't had anyone to sit with at lunch. He still remembered how uncomfortable he'd felt.

Mimi nodded. “Mom says if I can make half the money for private school, she and Dad will pay the rest.”

“How much is that?”

“I think about seven thousand dollars.”

Finch's jaw dropped. “Mimi, you can't make that kind of money selling junk and cleaning the house!”

“Yes, I can. I have to! Otherwise, I'll move in with Dad and Lisa and go to school in their district.” Mimi marched back into the house for more stuff.

Finch ran after her. “Look, Dad doesn't want us now that he's got Jake. The blob is all he thinks about.”

“Maybe he doesn't want you, but I could be a lot of help. I know how to change a diaper. I could babysit.”

Finch had to swallow back a lump in his throat. There were lots of times he wished he didn't have a sister. But that was because he'd never thought it could happen. Besides, he'd never let the blob have her—he already had their dad.

Fin picked up the old ferret cage. “What if Kelly wanted to be your friend again?”

“Forget it. It's not going to happen.”

“You never know. Something could change her mind.”

“I'm still having the sale, Fin.”

“But you'd like it, right?”

Mimi's chin trembled. “I guess so.”

“Cape?” Finch asked silently. “Would you help me fix things up between Mimi and Kelly?”

“But you're supposed to help solve problems. You haven't even tried.”

“No!”

“No what?” Mimi asked over her shoulder.

“Nothing,” Finch answered quickly. He'd forgotten to speak in his head. He pressed his lips tightly together to keep it from happening again. “I don't want Mimi to suffer,” he said in his mind. “I thought you were supposed to obey me.”

“Pell-mell, a speechless spell!” Finch chanted silently. Then he carried the cage to the garage.

 

Finch waited until the lights were out in his mother's and sister's rooms before he sneaked into the spare room where they kept the computer. He closed the door and switched the desk lamp on low. He even remembered to turn down the sound as the computer booted up. He was hoping to find information on the Internet about Thinking Capes. If his cape had survived all this time, there might be others, too. It would be especially great if he could find one owned by another kid. Then they could e-mail about questions or problems.

At first he Googled “Thinking Capes.” But he only found a site called Planet of the Capes, and one about women's fashions in Victorian England. He tried “Magic Capes” next, but that brought up a lot of on-line costume shops. He was beginning to feel discouraged when he remembered the cape mentioning that it was from a town near Persia or Arabia, so he typed in “Persia,” “Arabia,” and “Magic Capes.” Up came Magic Carpet Tours (but that was only a travel agency) and a lot of places that sold Oriental rugs.

Enough! He was about to shut down the computer when his eye fell on a line at the bottom of the screen:
Tales from the Arabian Nights ... tales of magic and mystery.
He clicked on it.

A book called
Tales from the Arabian Nights
appeared on the screen. The cover had a genie with muscles like the Incredible Hulk rising up from a thing that looked like a golden pitcher. Finch knew from the animated movie he'd seen that it was supposed to be Aladdin's lamp. But this seemed quite realistic, not like the cartoon kind. The line
Search inside this book
appeared on the screen. Finch clicked.

The first page was an introduction. It said the tales in the book first began appearing over a thousand years ago in places like India, Persia, and Arabia. Finch felt a buzz of recognition. He looked at the table of contents. None of the titles had the words
magic cape
in them, but they did have other enchanted items, like keys of destiny and everlasting shoes. Maybe there would be clues about other magical capes in those stories. Tomorrow, he'd stop in the school library and see if he could find the book.

He got back to his room without waking anyone. The Thinking Cape was in a corner of his bed, exactly where he'd left it. “Hi, Cape,” he whispered.

The cape was silent.

Finch reached out and shook it. The cape still didn't answer. Then he remembered about the spell.

“Quell, quell the speechless spell!” he chanted.

“Just saying good night,” Fin said with a yawn.

“Sure.” Finch pushed up the window. A soft breeze stirred the curtains. He lay down and fell into a deep, refreshing sleep.

Under the shade of a red maple tree, Finch was manning his sister's lemonade and cookie stand. His backpack hung from a branch overhead, top open so the Thinking Cape could get the fresh air it craved. It swung lightly in the breeze, although occasionally an early fall gust sent it twisting wildly. Rosie and Cubby were getting some fresh air as well. Fin had covered a few sharp wires on their old cage with tape and set it in the grass nearby. The ferrets climbed up and down, poking their little noses through the bars.

They were so excited to be out-of-doors, they were squeaking.

Fin filled six paper cups with lemonade and set them out on the table. He rearranged the chocolate chip cookies more neatly on the tray. Then he helped himself to one and plopped down in a lawn chair.

All over the front yard, strangers were picking through his family's unwanted stuff. His mother had decided a yard sale was a good opportunity to clean out the house.

While he waited for lemonade customers, he opened the copy of
Tales from the Arabian Nights
he'd found at the school library. Last night he'd read one of the stories to the Thinking Cape—“Sinbad the Sailor and the Valley of Diamonds.” It was awesome! Dangling from the claw of an enormous bird, Sinbad had flown into a valley that sparkled with emeralds, diamonds, and rubies. But when the bird landed, Sinbad discovered the floor of the valley was also covered with snakes so big they could swallow a man as easily as you could swallow your chewing gum. Before Sinbad realized what was happening, the humongous bird sucked up one of the snakes like a worm and flew off. Now Sinbad was trapped—the sides of the valley were as straight as walls and as slick as glass. No human had ever climbed out.

But Sinbad the Sailor never gave up. He stuck some of the jewels in his pockets for later and hid under the old, smelly carcass of a donkey that must have fallen off the cliff. After a long wait, the giant bird came along again. This time it plucked up the rotten carcass (with Sinbad hanging on beneath) and flew back to its nest to feed the meat to its chicks. While the birds were busy, Sinbad escaped before he became bird food, too.