The Extraordinary Adventures of Ordinary Boy, Book One: The Hero Revealed (6 page)

“Kids always make fun of me because of my size,” he said as he stuck out his hand to me, “but usually only once. My name is Stench, by the way.”

The second he said it I found out how he got his name. I shook his hand anyway.

“My name is Ordinary Boy,” I replied, my eyes watering from the smell. “That’s because I don’t have any kind of power.”

“My power is my strength,” Stench said. He pulled one of the canisters from a loop on his pants leg and began spraying it to neutralize the odor. “The problem is that my strength sometimes shows itself in unpleasant ways. I’ll make you a deal. I won’t make fun of you if you won’t make fun of me.”

“It’s a deal,” I replied. And we’ve been best friends ever since.

Climbing up the ladder, I could tell by the faint but lingering smell that Stench was already there.

As I entered the clubhouse through the hole in the center of the floor, I didn’t see anyone at first. Then I noticed a bushy clump of blond hair poking over the back of the couch. I peeked over and saw Halogen Boy. He was munching from a bowl of potato chips sitting in his lap and appeared hypnotized by what he was watching on the television. I slowly began waving my hand like a pendulum directly in front of his face. His eyes, hidden behind the dark goggles he always wore, finally appeared to focus on my waving hand.

“Hey, O Boy. You’re just in time,” he said, momentarily glowing as brightly as the TV screen in front of him. “AI is just coming on.”

“Excellent,” I responded, and I plopped down on the end of the couch right next to our Hall of Trophies. Well, to be honest, it really wasn’t a hall. In fact it was just an empty aquarium turned upside down. So far, it contained only a doorknob, a sardine can, and a cocktail umbrella, but we had high hopes for its future.

Just then I heard the refrigerator door close. I glanced over to the kitchen area and saw Stench.

“Hi, O Boy,” he said as he handed Halogen Boy a bottle of apple juice. “Can I get you one, too?”

Hal (that’s what we all call him) poured the juice from the bottle into the sippy cup that he always carried. It was attached to his belt loop by an elastic strap. We kid him all the time about still having a sippy cup, but it actually makes a lot of sense. His ability to glow gets a lot stronger the more apple juice he drinks. Don’t ask me why. Orange juice, lemonade, soda pop—nothing else had any effect, but apple juice could get him glowing like a firefly. The sippy cup was just an easy way to always keep some handy.

“Sure. I’ll take one, too,” I replied. It took me a moment to realize that Stench was sporting a big bushy mustache the same brownish color as the hair on his head. “Um, and what’s with the mustache?”

“Guess who.” He snorted with disgust.

Stench’s older brother, Fuzz Boy, has the ability to grow hair on anything he touches. When he was a baby his parents thought that he would become a zillionaire by growing hair for bald people. The problem is that the hair only lasts for about six hours. So, stuck with a fairly useless power, he spends most of his time using it to play pranks—mostly on his younger brother.

“He did it this morning before breakfast,” Stench grumbled. “So it should be gone in a couple of hours.”

“What should be gone?”

The three of us all turned to see Plasma Girl coming up through the floor of the tree house. Well, actually, “oozing up” would be more correct. Plasma Girl can change herself into a gelatin-like glob and this allows her to get into all sorts of places in ways that most people can’t. She never climbs up the ladder to the tree house. Instead, she turns into her goopy state and slithers along a ventilation shaft or up the trunk. It only takes her a few seconds to switch back into her normal body. She doesn’t have a costume in the conventional sense, since she would lose it every time she used her power, but her skin produces a constantly shifting plasma covering from neck to toes. Its colors tend to be blue, purple, and pink and it’s really cool and iridescent.

“We were talking about Stench’s mustache,” Halogen Boy and I both said helpfully.

“I think it looks good on you, Stench,” Plasma Girl said, giving it a playful tug. “You should consider growing it back in about ten years.”

“No way,” he responded. “Want an apple juice?”

“Thanks,” Plasma Girl said. “Where’s Tadpole? It’s not like him to be the last one here.”

Just then, as if on cue, Tadpole poked his head through the opening in the floor.

“Here I am, guys,” he said as he climbed up, “and I have a very good reason for being late. I’ve just spent the morning with the coolest thing ever invented so far in the history of the universe.”

“What is it?” we all asked.

“The Amazing Indestructo Collector Cards,” he revealed proudly. He pulled a small stack of cards from a compartment on the olive-green utility belt he wore on top of his camouflage leotards. “They’ve just been released!”

“I know,” I said. “I bought five packs yesterday and I brought them with me.”

“Me, too,” Stench added. “I have five packs, too.”

Tadpole looked disappointed. He likes to think he’s the first to find anything out. But then Hal distracted him.

“Those look really neat,” Hal said softly. The apple juice he had just drunk produced a bright glow and we all had to close our eyes. “Oops. Sorry about that.”

“There’s sixty-four of them all together,” Tadpole said, like we didn’t already know. “I was thinking we should try and complete the set as a team.”

“This isn’t going to be your new excuse to get out of my afternoon tea party, is it?” asked Plasma Girl suspiciously. “You’ve wiggled out of it three times now, and this time you promised.”

As you can probably tell, Plasma Girl doesn’t hang out with us because she’s a tomboy or anything. Just the opposite, actually. We all met her for the first time in second grade, and, believe me, nothing impresses a second-grade boy like a girl who can turn herself into a bubbling mass of ectoplasm and slither across a playground. The first time she did it, we practically begged her to join our group. It was only later that we realized she was into the usual lame stuff that most girls like.

I’ll admit, we had doubts at first. But then we decided, why not? We’re modern, freethinking guys, after all. And, besides, we all realized that even when she wasn’t an oozing, bubbling puddle of goop, she was still pretty cool. She’d have to be for us to agree to be guests at her tea parties. And although you’ll never hear me admit this in front of the guys, she’s kept us from doing a lot of stupid things over the years.

“Tea parties are so lame,” Tadpole muttered in his usual undiplomatic way.

“And you’re coming to one this afternoon.” She glared at Tadpole but spoke to all of us. “Aren’t you?”

“We promise,” we all said robotically.

We eagerly began spreading out the cards on the table in front of the couch.

“Hey, Tadpole, you want an apple juice?” Stench asked. “Everybody else already has one.”

“Thanks, Stench, but I can get it,” Tadpole responded. Without even lifting his head from the cards, his tongue whipped from his mouth, snaked into the kitchen, looped itself around the refrigerator door handle, and yanked it open. Tadpole wrapped his tongue around a bottle of apple juice, used it to nudge the door shut, and reeled it all the way back—all without looking. As his tongue released the bottle and it dropped into his hand, the last of the cards were laid out on the table.

“This is incredible,” he said excitedly. “Two cards per pack, so we have ten from O Boy, ten from Stench, and sixteen from me.”

The first thing we noticed as we oohed and aahed over the cards was how many of them were pictures of the Amazing Indestructo. They weren’t all duplicates, either. There were just lots of different images of AI. We counted twenty-two in all. After looking them over carefully, we realized that eight of them were duplicates, leaving us with fourteen unique AI cards. The remaining fourteen cards were split evenly between members of the League of Ultimate Goodness and some of AI’s greatest enemies.

We had seven members of LUG: Major Bummer, the Bee Lady, Mannequin, the Human Compass, and Lord Pincushion, plus two more duplicates of Major Bummer. The seven villain cards were those for the Prophetess, Reverso, the Iconoclast, two copies of Cyclotron’s card, and two cards for a mysterious villain named the Sneak. We’d heard of him before but had never seen a picture. The card did little to clear up the mystery. All that was visible was a pale outline of a person who had blended in with the pattern of the wall behind him. You could only sort of see his eyes.

NAME:
Plasma Girl.
POWER:
Able to transform herself into a gelatinous goo.
LIMITATIONS:
Gelatinous goo has few practical uses.
CAREER:
First and only female member of the Junior Leaguers.
CLASSIFICATION:
A moderate power put to exceptional use.

What really mattered, though, was that all together we had twenty-four unique cards.

“If there are sixty-four total, that means we still need …” Halogen Boy’s goggles tipped downward to where his fingers were attempting to count out the answer.

“We still need a whole bunch of cards,” Tadpole said with annoyance.

The rest of us were annoyed, too, but not at the thought of finding the remaining cards. We were annoyed because the clubhouse suddenly started to stink.

“Oh my goodness!” Plasma Girl cried, frantically waving both hands in front of her face.

“Can’t you do that somewhere else?” Tadpole asked.

“Sorry.” Stench blushed. “It comes on pretty suddenly.”

“Let’s get out of here, anyway,” I suggested. “I think it’s time to head over to the Mighty Mart. After all, we have a collection to complete!”

CHAPTER FIVE

A Bright Idea

When we got to the store, the first things I noticed were the displays of toilet paper that were everywhere. They all had signs offering huge discounts. Buy one, get five free—that sort of thing. The ceiling that AI had crashed through had already been completely repaired and the shelves had been raised back up.

We went straight to the checkout lanes with the card packs. In lane one there was a box that still had about a dozen packs in it.

“How many of these can we afford to buy?” asked Tadpole. “I only have three dollars left after what I bought earlier today.”

I did a little calculating in my head.

“Well, we need forty more cards,” I said for starters. “So far, of the first thirty-six cards we bought, twelve of them, or one third, were duplicates, and twenty-four, or two-thirds, were unique. If that ratio stays the same, we’d have to buy … hmm, let me think.”

Actually, I knew the answer right away, but I didn’t want the group to think I was a math geek or something, so I pretended like it took me a while to get the answer.

“We’d have to buy at least sixty cards in order to have even a small chance of getting the forty individual cards that we need,” I finally announced. “In reality, as we get closer to completing the set, our rate of success will drop even further and it will take even more to find the last few we need. Sixty should be our target for now, though.”

“I’d love to know how you do that,” Stench said as he shook his head. Plasma Girl just gave me a wink and a smile. I hoped none of the guys saw it.

“At two per pack, that’s thirty packs we’d need to buy,” Tadpole said with a sigh. “Like I said, I only have three dollars.”

“I think I have five,” Stench said.

“Me, too,” agreed Plasma Girl. “But I need it to buy scones for the tea party.”

“I only have two,” Halogen Boy said sadly as he stuck a finger in his pocket to illuminate its interior.

“And I have five,” I added. “That gives us a total of twenty dollars.”

“What about my scones?” asked an irritated Plasma Girl.

“Can we just have potato chips with the tea?” I asked plaintively.

“Oh, fine,” she relented. “So we have enough for forty cards. And we need exactly forty cards… .”

“But how can we find the packs that have just the cards we need?” Halogen Boy asked. Instinctively, his hand reached for his sippy cup and he took a drink, glowing brighter with frustration.