Bug Girl Page 7

  “Ziti,” Amanda whispered to herself. “Fettuccini, ditalini, tripolini, bucatini!”

  “Whoa. What is going on with your arm? It’s, like, hard!” Emily gasped and let go. “And why are you talking about carbs?”

  Amanda pushed up the sleeve on her jacket. Just enough so Emily could see but Mikki Folders could not. Exposing herself like this was a big risk, but Amanda was out of options.

  Emily recoiled. Amanda’s arm was hard and shiny, like it was covered in some strange plastic or a thin coating of mother-of-pearl—the flexible, iridescent calciumcarbonate layers mollusks and some cephalopods formed for protection.

  Momentarily stunned into silence, Emily looked into Amanda’s face and backed away. “Come on, Mikki. I don’t have time to clean up this act,” she said when she finally found her voice.

  Amanda’s heart was racing. “Farfalle,” she mumbled, naming her favorite butterfly-shaped noodle, and with that, she picked up her pack and raced out of the locker room.

  EYE GNATS

  Not-So-Fun Bug Fact: Eye gnats feed on human tears and sweat. (Gross!) Male gnat swarms are sometimes called ghosts!

  14

  Amanda dashed past the Parsnippity statue and kept on running right off campus. There was still one more period before school was out. She was ditching—something she had never even considered before—and she didn’t feel a lick of guilt. In fact, breaking the rules was the only thing making her feel remotely good.

  For a moment in the locker room, Amanda thought she was getting through to Emily. There was a look in the other girl’s eyes, like a small sliver of light seeping under the door into a pitch-black room. It had given her hope.

  Unfortunately the light was extinguished the instant Mikki showed up and Emily’s social status was at stake. Her turn was so swift and so mean that it left Amanda breathless and wondering why she thought talking to Emily would help in the first place. How could she have imagined Emily as her ally, let alone her partner?

  Amanda wiped her moist eyes as she flapped down the sidewalk away from the school in her ridiculously large jacket. The locker-room moment had made her feel exhausted and shaky, but after a few blocks, it began to strengthen her resolve and clarify a couple of things:

  1. Never again would she attempt to talk with Emily at school. And while Amanda hoped that her exoskeleton reveal in the locker room had jarred some sense into the younger Battfield, only time would tell.

  2. She would not let Emily’s attitude stop her. Partner or no partner, she was ready to bust a move!

  “Poppy,” Amanda called as she stepped into the house. The main room seemed brighter than usual, and Amanda shed her coat and scarf. She was shvitzing like crazy under the hot, scratchy wool. “Poppy?” she called again. Still there was no answer, but it did not take long to find him in the small bungalow. He was in Amanda’s mother’s bedroom, apparently cleaning out her closets—like that was a big priority. He had piles of winter clothes, holiday outfits, and bridesmaid dresses strewn on the bed.

  “Your ma developed some strange tastes after I retired, let me tell you what,” Poppy said, picking up a pair of acid-wash jeans as if they were a dirty diaper. “Can’t say I understand what these are all about.” He chucked them into a corner.

  Amanda didn’t ask why he was going through stored clothing. Yesterday, while she made long lists of pasta shapes, Poppy rearranged all the books on the living-room shelves so the spines were in rainbow order. Her grandfather’s actions were strange and his motives were mysterious. But the results could be effective.

  “So, Poppy, thanks for the spaghetti lesson,” she said, plopping down on the bed in the piles of clothes. “The mantras came in really handy today, though there were some close calls. I’d love to get some more pro tips from you if you have any, but honestly, I don’t think there’s time for me to get through your whole list.” She looked at her nails and tried to act like shrugging it off was no big deal. “Besides, Emily won’t listen to me, like at all, so the partner thing isn’t very realistic.”

  Poppy didn’t seem to be listening, either. He didn’t even look over at her. He just held up a bold, swirly-print jumper Amanda had never seen her mother wear.

  “This has potential,” the old man muttered, focusing on the vintage garment as if it were a famous painting. “Yes, indeedy, this one’s a keeper!”

  Potential for what? Amanda scowled. “Poppy, did you hear me? I need you to listen. I’m ready to rescue Mom.”

  Poppy backed out of the closet with a pair of platform lace-ups. “Now we’re talking,” he chortled.

  “Well, I’m trying to!” Amanda said, getting frustrated. Sometimes it felt like she and her grandfather weren’t in the same room … or even on the same planet! They certainly were not in the same conversation.

  “I’m trying to tell you that today was a total waste of time—something we’re running out of. Mayor Loafenblatt received a threat yesterday. It said that the whopper of a situation you predicted is coming in a few days! Isn’t it time we call the police?” Amanda hadn’t talked to the authorities since her first 9-1-1 call after the party. She reached for the phone on the bedside table.

  That got Poppy’s attention. He smashed down the pile of clothes, put a wrinkled hand on Amanda’s, and pushed the phone back onto the table. He looked Amanda in the eyes. “Oh. No.” He shook his head. “Can’t do that. One step at a time,” he cackled. “First of all, you aren’t ready. Third, you can’t do this on your own—you have to wait for Blondie to come around. I know you think she’s ignoring you, but give it time. It won’t be long before you’ve figured out each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Then you’ll work together like champs. Balance each other out. Best hero team ever, maybe! Yes. Yes. Yes. You have to wait until the donkey dust settles, then it’ll be your time.”

  “But I’ve got to do SOMETHING now!” Amanda complained.

  “You’re right. You’ve got to do something. How about taking another gander at those folders of your mother’s,” Poppy said. “You’d best root up some info on who we might be fighting here. It’s always better to go into battle knowing what you’re up against … and I bet there are still some feisty characters out and about who’d like to take Dragonfly down a peg. Your mom fought some doozies in her day.”

  Amanda’s jaw dropped. And not because Poppy was pulling down the box of snow clothes. Researching potential enemies was a straightforward task, and one that actually made sense.

  “Now get to it! Skedaddle!” Poppy snapped, waving a pom-pom hat and a pair of padded bib overalls at her.

  She hurried to the basement and quickly brought Zephyr to Olympian speed. As soon as the door to Dragonfly’s lair opened, Amanda popped off the treadmill and hurried inside. She’d already determined that the files on the desk must be her mother’s stack of suspects.

  Amanda pulled a chair up to the desk to have another look. She started with the slimmest folder. It was filled with information about Calamity Coven. In her previous review of the file, she’d read that the coven had been a club of crotchety retirees who, angered by what they referred to as “freewheeling youngsters roaming the streets with pegged pants and portable stereos,” had decided to take matters into their own hands. They had attempted to wage a war on anyone under the age of forty. Amanda guessed that since each member of the Calamity Coven had been seventy-five or older back in the 1990s, they were no longer a threat. “They’d all be over a hundred by now,” she whispered, doing the math in her head and moving to the next folders.

  The Porcine Sisters and Dark Tarsier were, according to the clippings, safely locked behind bars, serving time for their dastardly (and weird) crimes. Obsessed with baked goods, the Porcine Sisters had hit all the bakeries in town, stealing cakes, cookies, biscotti, and doughnuts every morning for weeks. Once the bakeries had shut down, the greedy sisters had turned their attacks on home bakers until everyone in Oyster Cove was terrified to so much as butter and flour a pan. Menaced and deprived of
pastries, the townspeople were forced to purchase outrageously overpriced brownies and crullers from the Porcine Sisters themselves at bake sales. The twin ladies’ ultimate crime had been what they called the Cake Walk of Death! Luckily, Dragonfly and Megawoman had rescued all walk participants, and the Porcine Sisters had been placed in a gluten-free cell and given a long sentence to allow them to ponder their pastry problems.

  Dark Tarsier’s crimes were too terrifying to even read about. Amanda confirmed he was still incarcerated and closed the cover on that offending monster.

  Feeling exhausted and horrified by all that her mom had faced back in the day, Amanda opened the last folder in the stack.

  The Exterminator’s atrocious crimes gave Amanda the willies. The mere thought of her beautiful invertebrate friends being transformed into freakish zombies in order to do the bidding of deranged humans was dismaying to say the least. Shaking off the terror, she continued reading. Her mouth dropped open. She could not believe The Exterminator’s horror story had escaped her awareness until now!

  After Fritz Von Schlingmann revealed his mutated creatures, he was immediately stripped of his title and position, and all his awards and honors had also been taken back. Small clippings revealed that the man effectively lost everything he’d ever owned, including friends, colleagues, and status in the science community. Even his dog, Korv, had been taken from him by an animal-protection group suspicious of his motives around any live critters.

  The collective pushed Von Schlingmann to the edge, until at last he did exactly what the Science League had predicted. He used his creations with evil intent.

  “Oh my goodness,” Amanda breathed. “All those poor bugs.” Her eyes darted to the next article, THE EXTERMINATOR’S INFESTATION, where she was aghast to learn that the spurned scientist had unleashed a fleet of his mutated beasts into the Science League’s Oyster Cove headquarters during their annual convention. The world’s scientific leaders had all been in attendance, and while they were meeting in the main hall, Von Schlingmann had taken over the intercom system and reintroduced himself. The quotation was printed in its entirety:

  My fellow scientists, you dared to question my experiments. You feared my creations could be used for evil. Well, now you will experience the truth of your predictions! Now, my esteemed friends, you will cower in fear in the presence of THE EXTERMINATOR!

  After delivering his monologue, The Exterminator had ordered his creatures to cover the league’s building in a fiber of his own invention—a fiber so strong that manmade tools could not cut it. The scientists had been trapped inside. Held hostage at The Exterminator’s mercy. His demands were simple—he wanted control of the entire world, and if he didn’t get it, he would destroy Science League headquarters.

  “Typical mad-scientist behavior,” Amanda snorted as she continued to read.

  Just when it appeared that all hope was lost and that the world would have to bow to The Exterminator’s demands, two superheroes had arrived and saved the day! Dragonfly and Megawoman not only captured The Exterminator and foiled his evil plot, but they also used their superstrengths to break through the web surrounding the Science League’s headquarters and rescue all the people within. In other words, they kicked butt.

  Of course, The Exterminator had vowed revenge against the heroes who had toppled his crazy plan. But no one felt very threatened once he was taken into custody. After a quick trial, the madman was found guilty and thrown into a high-security prison, where he was expected to remain for the rest of his life.

  Amanda turned to the computer (Poppy had changed the security protocols so Amanda could use it without causing it to explode) to do a quick check. She went to the prison-record database and searched Von Schlingmann as she had the other villains. But nothing came up. She expanded her search parameters until she finally found a tiny article that revealed that The Exterminator had “gone missing” from jail a few years after his imprisonment. Law enforcement was reportedly on “high alert,” and The Exterminator was listed on the FBI’s Most Wanted criminal list. But judging by their actions, or lack thereof, authorities weren’t all that concerned. Amanda wondered why.

  She tried several more searches, but no one had heard from him since his jailbreak.

  Stretching out her stiff neck and arms, Amanda realized that The Exterminator was the only guy on her mother’s list whose whereabouts were unknown. A shiver snaked up her spine and her tummy rumbled. Amanda shut down the computer and hurried upstairs to check on her lasagna.

  Her mind was still reeling as she set the bubbling casserole on the table. It smelled delicious. Amanda served up two portions, all the while picturing The Exterminator roaming around in some revenge-fueled fury.

  “Poppy!” Amanda called out several times. He didn’t answer. Finally, she walked to her mother’s bedroom to let him know that the food he’d requested was ready. Amanda braced herself for the mess before opening the door, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw strewn on her mother’s bed.

  Amanda gasped. “Poppy! How could you?”

  15

  “I came as quickly as I could,” Vincent puffed when Amanda opened the door.

  Amanda took a step back to let her friend come inside, and to let him get a good look. She wanted to catch his reaction. She was not disappointed. Vincent clutched the door frame to keep from falling over.

  “Where did you get that ensemble?” he trilled, still panting. Amanda spun around so Vincent could view her outfit from all angles. Her new separates deserved to be admired.

  As it turned out, Poppy had more than one trick up his sleeve and had been doing more than sorting out (and holding running commentary on) her mother’s old clothes. The “poorly timed” closet cleaning had actually been a fabric raid. Poppy had been mining for makeover fodder, and he’d found it. In spades. An hour alone, a sewing machine, a pair of scissors, and some stickyback Velcro, and suddenly he had checked another thing off Amanda’s list: She had a custom wardrobe fit for an insectile superhero!

  With a flourish, Amanda showed off the groovy botanical print on the sheer-sleeve, mandarin-collared tunic Poppy had paired with black leggings. She had to admit she was pretty pleased with the getup. It fit like it had been made for her. Because, well, it had been.

  “It’s stunning,” Vincent said, shaking his head and staring with his mouth wide open like a Papuan frogmouth waiting for a meal. “And it has pockets?”

  Amanda nodded. “There’s more, too,” she said. But she couldn’t talk about what was hiding beneath her outfit—or the other garments and how they made her feel cared for and cute and ready to return to school in spite of the taunts and hazards therein. She was overwhelmed. And a little emotional.

  Vincent took a step back and snapped his mouth shut.

  “What?” Amanda asked. It was obvious the boy had something to say, and he was afraid she would not want to hear it. “Spill,” she demanded.

  “The shoes. They’re all wrong. You need something shorter. Sharper. Maybe in white.”

  “Okay, as long as I can run in them.”

  Vincent stared down at her worn-out boots and then consulted his Casio calculator watch. “We just might have enough time.” He nodded.

  A few minutes later, Vincent and Amanda were pedaling as fast as they could toward Snifferveldt Square Mall. Amanda felt a little guilty sneaking off and leaving Poppy to do the dishes, but she trusted Vincent’s fashion instincts implicitly. The outfit deserved decent footwear, and there wasn’t much time. Besides, she had a boatload of information about her mother’s potential kidnapper to download to her pal.

  “Let’s go to the food court!” Vincent shouted over his shoulder.

  He was always hungry and he loved people watching.

  “Okay. Maybe I’ll try that new turmeric-ginger blend they have at the Haight Street Juicery. My mother said it’s delicious.” Amanda got a lump in her throat at the thought of her mom. It felt more than a little wrong to be at the mall while her
mother was being held captive, but she had no choice.

  Inside, the shopping mecca was more crammed than usual with people practicing retail therapy to relieve their stress and get new outfits for the Oyster Cove Day celebration. As Vincent navigated the hordes, pulling Amanda along behind him, she had another strange feeling. According to the antennae beneath her stylishly woven headband, somewhere in the retail labyrinth, something was going very wrong.

  An alarm sounded, confirming her suspicions, and Amanda froze right outside Cheap and Cheerful.

  “Amanda, are you okay?” Vincent asked, staring at her with a look of concern.

  “There’s something I have to do before we get those shoes,” Amanda told her confidant. She grabbed Vincent’s arm and pulled him past shoppers and strollers into the maintenance corridor.

  The hallway was long, lit by a lone fluorescent tube, and covered in graffiti. The smell of cleaning fluids and just a splash of mildew, or worse, filled the air.

  “Gross,” Amanda said out loud. But there wasn’t time to consider the damage the grime-dissolving chemicals were doing to their brains. She was already changing. Her skin hardened and her feelers pushed against her headband. Amanda did not even bother to ponder pappardelle or orzo. She was doing this.

  Vincent stood there, stunned. “Didn’t Poppy tell you that you had to keep your … stuff … under wraps?”

  Amanda fixed her friend with a look. “Yes, but somebody out there is doing something bad, and Poppy also said I have to use my instincts and develop my skills. Besides, I really want to give my attire a test run!”

  In a series of moves that looked practiced but weren’t, Amanda converted her ensemble into a bona fide superhero outfit. She whipped off the tunic to reveal what was basically a set of iridescent long underwear with a short fluttery skirt. With a tug, her black headband turned into a velvety mask shaped like an abstract butterfly. It covered her head, nose, and eyes and was pretty darn cute.