Part 4 (1/2)
”So, anyway,” I pushed on, ”that leaves us with thirty-two cards of AI, sixteen cards of other heroes-but only fifteen cards with villains. Clearly the missing card is a villain.”
”It makes sense,” Plasma Girl agreed. ”But who?”
”Think about it,” I said. ”Who is AI's first and greatest foe? Who destroyed Meteor Boy? Who is constantly setting up AI's most difficult challenges-at least on TV, anyway? And who is nowhere to be seen among the sixty-three cards we already have?”
”Professor Brain-Drain!” all four of them said in unison.
”Exactly!” I said.
”What's that about Professor Brain-Drain?” came a voice from the front of the cla.s.s.
Our teacher, Miss Marble, had come into the room. Her hands were folded over her ample midsection as one foot tapped in irritation.
”Uh-um,” I stuttered for a moment. ”We were just talking about the Professor Brain-Drain card that we're missing from our set of Amazing Indestructo Collector Cards.” I blurted out the truth in that frustrating way you do when you can't think of a good fib fast enough.
”Well, as long as it's something important,” Miss Marble said in a tone that clearly indicated she didn't think it was important at all. ”How many of the rest of you are also attempting to collect these cards?”
The hand of every kid in the cla.s.s shot up. I felt vindicated! But then they all immediately began talking to each other.
”Did you see the card with my uncle on it?” Cannonball announced to anyone who would listen.
His uncle was the Crimson Creampuff, and Cannonball was incredibly proud to have a relative in the League of Ultimate Goodness. Whenever I felt jealous, I reminded myself that the Crimson Creampuff was one of the least least competent members of the League. competent members of the League.
”I'm missing twenty-three cards, including Whistlin' Dixie, the Animator, and Moleman,” said Transparent Girl, from what looked like an empty seat on Hal's left. ”If anyone has them, I'd be happy to hold onto them for you.”
Even with our hands still raised, everyone began chattering, comparing notes on how their various collections were coming. No one was paying attention to Miss Marble any longer, which is never a good thing. Sure enough, I felt the inevitable reach of her power begin as a tingle in my left leg. Not wanting my hand to get stuck in the air, I quickly lowered my arm only a moment before I found myself frozen in a state of suspended animation.
Miss Marble got her name from her ability to freeze a person in place just as if he were a marble statue. The suspension never lasted more than a couple of minutes, but it made for a handy way to get the attention of ... well, in this case, a cla.s.s full of disruptive students.
”Now that I've frozen your mouths shut, let's have a little discussion about something called scarcity.” Miss Marble glanced around the room at her students, who were petrified in poses ranging from acrobatic to downright uncomfortable. ”Do any of you know what that word means?”
I knew what the word meant, but there was no way to put my hand back up or to even speak, for that matter.
”What's the matter, kids? Cat got your tongues? Ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Miss Marble often said the exact same thing after freezing us, and always laughed hysterically at her own bad joke. Of course, we all just sat there, stiff as boards. The feeling began to pa.s.s after a few minutes, and soon I was able to move my eyelids. As movement returned to the rest of the cla.s.s, kids lowered their tired arms and remained quietly in their seats. No one ever wanted to risk a second freezing right away.
”So, scarcity. How about you, Hal?” Miss Marble continued, nodding at Halogen Boy.
Hal looked about helplessly. He can glow as brilliantly as an X-ray machine, but the sad fact is that he really isn't all that bright.
”Uh, I don't know,” he said, before deciding to wing it, which for Halogen Boy is never a good idea. ”Is it a city that's really scary?”
Miss Marble's eyes rolled to the back of her head. ”No, it is not. Puddle Boy, do you know?”
Puddle Boy just nervously shook his head without saying a word. The puddle beneath his desk grew by another inch.
”How about you, Melonhead?”
”Thkarthity?” he said. Seeds splattered from his mouth in a dozen different directions. ”Doethn't it mean generothity? Ath in ”Thkarthity beginth at home?”
”Okay, Ordinary Boy,” Miss Marble said, resignedly. ”What does scarcity mean?”
It annoys me that she always a.s.sumes I know the answer. Well, okay, so most of the time I do. She still didn't need to pick on me.
”Scarcity is a term that refers to how difficult [image]
something is to find,” I said. ”The fewer there are of an item that lots of people want, the more scarce scarce that item is.” that item is.”
”Correct as usual,” she said.
”Miss Marble?”
”Yes, Transparent Girl?” Miss Marble asked with a sigh of resignation.
”Scarcity is a term that refers to how difficult an item is to find,” she pointed out perkily.
Miss Marble ignored her and pressed ahead. ”Now tell me again, Ordinary Boy, what card haven't you been able to find?”
”I suspect that it's a card with Professor BrainDrain on it,” I answered.
”Has anyone found this card?” she asked the cla.s.s as a whole.
Not a single hand was raised.
”It appears,” she said directly to me, ”that this card is very very scarce, a.s.suming that it exists at all. If it doesn't exist, you will all end up on a wild-goose chase and will no doubt spend much of your parents' money in the process.” scarce, a.s.suming that it exists at all. If it doesn't exist, you will all end up on a wild-goose chase and will no doubt spend much of your parents' money in the process.”
”But what if it does exist?” I asked hopefully.
”Then,” she answered, ”if you find one, you will have found something that is very valuable indeed.”
CHAPTER EIGHT.
Straight to the Top
It was three o'clock and school had just let out. All five of us Junior Leaguers had agreed to meet at the end of the day to plan a strategy. We were waiting for Stench, who as usual needed to use the bathroom right after cla.s.s.
While we waited, a large crate came floating up the sidewalk toward the school. It was only as it got closer that I saw it was being pushed along by an old friend of my dad's, and a former member of the New Crusaders, the Levitator.
”Hey, Lev,” I waved. ”How's it going?”
”Ordinary Boy!” he said in surprise as he poked his head around the crate. ”Good to see you. How are your mom and dad doing?”