“I didn’t say it was a hurricane,” Dad snapped. “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

  “Why don’t you ever say anything worth listening to?”

  Ernie grabbed the Pop-Tart off my plate and shoved it into his mouth.

  “Hey — that’s mine!” I cried. I grabbed for it. But he giggled and swung his head away from my grasp, chewing furiously.

  “Mom? Dad? Ernie stole my Pop-Tart!” I shouted.

  They both turned to Ernie. “It’s cherry,” Mom said. “That’s Ernie’s favorite.”

  “But — but —” I sputtered.

  “He was just being funny,” Mom said, smiling at him. “Let him have it, Richard.”

  “You eat too many sweets,” Dad said to me. “Why don’t you go get a grapefruit from the fridge.”

  “Huh? A grapefruit?”

  Mom poked Dad on the chest. “Are you saying I don’t give him a healthy breakfast? Are you saying I don’t feed the kids right?”

  I tuned them out. I only wanted to think about after school today. Bree and me meeting at the Comic Book Museum. I couldn’t wait to show it off to her.

  I blew my nose three or four times and wiped my runny eyes. Then I pulled on my jacket and flung my backpack over my shoulder. I walk Ernie to school every morning. And every morning he thinks it’s a riot to jump on my back and shout, “Piggyback! Piggyback!”

  It’s not funny. This morning, he leaped onto my back and sent me crashing headfirst into the wall.

  A few minutes later, we crossed Orlando Street and turned onto Kubert. It was a cool autumn day. Red and yellow leaves rained down from the trees as the wind swirled around.

  I zipped my jacket to the top. “Whoa. Wait.” I grabbed Ernie by the shoulder.

  Was I seeing things?

  I blinked my runny eyes, struggling to clear them. Yes! I saw two figures scampering across the red roof of the Romita family’s house across the street.

  But — but —

  “No way!” I gasped.

  They were both bent over as they darted across the roof. Both dressed from head to foot in green.

  I wiped my eyes and stared hard. This is impossible. It can’t be!

  I was staring at the Frog Mutant — Captain Croaker. And he was followed by his little sidekick, Terry Tadpole.

  “Hey — is that you?” I shouted up at them.

  I was staring into the sun. I couldn’t see clearly at all. They disappeared to the other side of the roof.

  My heart was pounding. My brain spun.

  I grabbed Ernie by the shoulders. “Did you see them?” I cried. “Did you see it, too?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I saw it.”

  “You did?” I shouted, still gripping his shoulders. “I’m not crazy? You saw it, too?”

  “Yeah. I saw that red car go by,” Ernie said. “The one with the dog hanging out the window.”

  “Huh?” I let go of him and staggered back. “You — you didn’t see those two guys on the roof? The guys in green costumes?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t see anyone on a roof.”

  How could he see them? They’re not real.

  I stood there, in a daze. I stared at the roof. Empty now. A bird landed on the chimney. It fluttered its wings and settled down, like it owned the house.

  I let out a cry as Ernie stomped on my foot as hard as he could. “You little creep!” I screamed. “Why’d you do that?”

  He shrugged. “Just felt like it, I guess.”

  I limped the rest of the way to his school. I thought maybe the little brat broke a hundred bones in my foot. But I wasn’t thinking about the pain. I was thinking about Captain Croaker and Terry Tadpole.

  I saw them so clearly. It had to be them.

  But how could it be?

  I felt totally confused. I thought about it all day.

  After school, I looked for Bree. Maybe she had changed her mind — maybe she wanted to take the bus with me to the Comic Book Museum. But I didn’t see her anywhere.

  I sat in the back of the bus as it bounced into town. I couldn’t wait to tell Kahuna what I saw on the Romita family’s roof. I was sure he’d believe me. And I knew he’d have ideas about why I saw them. Like maybe there’s a comic book costume contest in town.

  I ran up the steep concrete steps and burst through the double glass doors. Then I flew across the main hall to the welcome desk. “Kahuna!” I started.

  Whoa. He wasn’t there.

  Instead, a tall masked man, dressed in a tight costume of green and yellow, stared back at me from the other side of the desk. Two curled white fangs on his mask moved as he leaned toward me.

  Once I got over my surprise, I recognized him. The SnakeMan from Saturn. “Why are you here, sssssonny?” he hissed.

  “Uh … I’m … uh …” I took a breath. “That’s an awesome costume,” I said. “Did you make it?”

  He didn’t answer. The fangs appeared to curl tighter on the sides of his mask. His face was covered except for his eyes and mouth. He opened his lips, and a black forked tongue flicked out.

  Oh, wow. How does he do that? He’s a total freak!

  “Where is Big Kahuna?” I asked.

  “Who issss he?” he asked. The split tongue darted from side to side, then disappeared back into his mouth.

  “He … he works here in the afternoon,” I stammered. That tongue was too weird.

  The costumed man brought his face close to mine. His eyes were green-yellow. “I don’t think sssso,” he said.

  He was definitely creeping me out. I turned to the front doors to see if Bree had arrived. No. Not yet.

  “My friend and I are doing a project about this museum,” I said. “You know. A school project.”

  The masked man shook his head. “No. You’re not,” he rasped. Through the mask, the weird yellow-green eyes burned into mine.

  A chill ran down my back. I retreated a few steps. “I … don’t understand,” I stammered.

  “You have to leave,” he said. “This museum is closed.”

  I took another step back, away from the desk — and realized the man was standing in the wastebasket. He made a hissing snake sound as he stepped out of it.

  He slithered out from behind the desk. The white fangs on his mask glowed under the bright ceiling lights. His green-yellow eyes narrowed.

  “We’re clossssssed,” he hissed. “Go away. Go do your project at another museum.”

  What was going on here? How could this be happening?

  I was so startled and confused, I froze.

  He moved quickly. He stepped up to me. His eyes were terrifying. His mouth opened again, revealing the black forked tongue.

  “Please —” I uttered. “Don’t hurt me. Don’t —” My breath caught in my throat.

  To my shock, he stepped past me. His eyes were on the front doors now. He raised a yellow-gloved hand and pulled a long strand of web from the shoulder of his costume.

  Frozen to the floor, I watched him pull the web — like a slender rope — from his shoulder. Ignoring me completely, he walked to the doors. He pushed them open. Then he flung the long strand of rope into the air — and leaped onto it!

  The rope rose high, carrying him into the air. Through the glass doors, I could see him cross the street standing stiffly on the flying rope, higher … higher … until he vanished from view.

  Whoa.

  I suddenly realized I’d stopped breathing at least a minute ago. I let out my breath in a long whoosh. Then I sank to my knees on the marble floor.

  I was stunned. In shock. I must be insanely insane, I thought.

  “What just happened?” I muttered to myself. I rubbed my eyes. I gazed around the empty museum. “I didn’t see that. I didn’t see the SnakeMan from Saturn sail out of here on his Wonder Web.”

  I stayed down on my knees, struggling to catch my breath. I pictured him slithering out of the wastebasket, his fangs curling on the sides of his mask. Moving toward me … hissing at me …


  “The museum is closed,” he said.

  But how could that be?

  Where was Kahuna? Where was anyone else?

  I opened my mouth in a loud sneeze. Like an explosion, it echoed off the high walls. I sneezed again. I couldn’t stop it.

  I was still sneezing, still on my knees, when the museum doors opened.

  I turned to the doors — and let out a scream.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Ernie bounced into the front hall. He crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at me.

  “What are you doing here?” I repeated.

  Then I saw Bree walk in behind him. She shook her head hard, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “I brought you a surprise,” she said. “Him!”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “Why — ?”

  “Why are you on your knees on the floor?” Bree demanded.

  “Oh.” I climbed quickly to my feet. “I … uh … dropped a bus token,” I lied.

  “Your mom stopped me on the way to the museum,” she said. “She dropped him with me. She said we have to watch the little monster.”

  Ernie let out a loud roar. He likes being called a monster. He thinks it’s a compliment.

  Bree bent down to rub her shin. “Will you tell him to please stop pinching my leg?”

  “Ernie, stop pinching Bree’s leg,” I said.

  He roared again. “I’m a monster. I have to pinch.” He burst out laughing. He really cracks himself up. Then Ernie took off, running down the long hall, his arms stretched out like he was flying, roaring at the top of his lungs.

  “We’ve got bigger problems than Ernie,” I told Bree.

  She lowered her backpack to the floor and unzipped her jacket. She gazed around. “Hey, Richard, where is everyone?”

  “Something strange is going on,” I said. “A guy told me the museum is closed.”

  She picked up her backpack. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  “No! Wait!” I cried. “I’m not sure what’s happening. I mean —”

  I suddenly realized I didn’t see Ernie. “Hey — Ernie!” I shouted. “Ernie! Where are you?”

  The kid loves to wander off and make everyone look for him. Dad refuses to take him to the mall because he always gets lost. On purpose.

  Mom thinks that’s cute. She calls him My Little Explorer.

  Bree and I both stared down the long front hall. “Do you see him anywhere?” I asked Bree.

  She shook her head. “Let him go. He’s a total pain. He must have learned it from you.”

  Ha-ha. I was in no mood for Bree’s sarcasm.

  I spun away from Bree and ran down the hall. My sneakers thudded against the hard marble floor. I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted my brother’s name.

  It didn’t take long to find him. He had climbed the statue of Wonder Bat and was hiding behind the wings.

  “Get off that!” I cried. “This isn’t a playground. It’s a museum.”

  “So?”

  I made a grab for him, but he scrambled away. “You’re going to fall off and break your neck,” I said.

  “So?”

  I grabbed his ankles. He tried to squirm onto Wonder Bat’s head. But I tugged hard, and he came toppling to the floor. “Stay off the statues,” I snapped. “They’re very valuable.”

  “So?”

  I pulled him up from the floor. He tried to bite my hand, but I was too quick for him. Nice kid, huh?

  Bree hurried over to us. She had her backpack on her shoulders. “Are we staying here?” she demanded. “If the museum is closed —”

  “I wanted to show you everything they have,” I said. “But something very weird is going on.”

  “Then let’s leave. We can do our project at the Flower Museum. That’s my favorite.”

  “The what? Did you say Flower Museum?”

  She didn’t answer. She was staring straight ahead. Her green eyes bulged in shock.

  I turned and saw the big man bouncing toward us. I recognized his insane costume instantly. He wore silvery armor over blue-and-green tights and a leopard-skin cape. His tall white boots were covered in yellow feathers. His head was tossed back as he ran, and he let out a shrill, high-pitched giggle.

  Dr. Maniac!

  I froze and stared with my mouth hanging open. How can this be? It’s impossible! Dr. Maniac is a comic book character.

  Ernie jabbed me in the side with his elbow. “Who’s the freak?” he whispered.

  “Shut up,” I whispered back. “It’s Dr. Maniac. He — he —”

  “Where am I?” Maniac cried. “What’s happening?”

  He stopped a few feet in front of us and gazed all around. He ran his hand through his wild, unbrushed red hair. The leopard-skin cape fluttered behind him. “Where am I? Is this Cincinnati? How did I get to Cincinnati?”

  “This isn’t Cincinnati,” I said.

  He blinked. He squinted at the three of us. “Who are you?”

  Before we could answer, his eyes landed on me. “AHA!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “THERE you are! My ARCHENEMY!”

  His eyes narrowed. His face filled with menace. He moved toward me.

  “No!” I cried. “I — I’m not your enemy. I’m Richard Dreezer.”

  “Your disguise is good,” Maniac said. “But you can’t fool me. You call yourself Richard Dreezer now? I don’t care. Prepare to be torn to pieces!”

  I gulped. “Huh? Torn to pieces? You’re crazy!”

  Maniac thumped a fist on the hard armor over his chest. “I’m not crazy!” he bellowed. “I’m a MANIAC!”

  He grabbed me around the throat with a gloved hand and lifted me off the floor.

  “No. No — please!” I begged. “Put me down. What are you going to do?”

  “Say good-bye to your friends,” Maniac shouted. He raised me high above his head. “Your story is over. Look up. You’re about to meet CAPTAIN CEILING!”

  I uttered a choked gasp as he heaved me with all his might.

  I stared straight up as I sailed headfirst to the high ceiling. Then I shut my eyes and waited for the crushing pain.

  Whoa. No crash.

  No pain.

  I opened my eyes when I realized I hadn’t smashed into the ceiling. I felt strong arms around my waist. I turned my head and saw Dr. Maniac holding me.

  We were inches from the ceiling, floating high above Bree and Ernie. His cape billowed around us. “Sorry,” he murmured.

  He sailed down and set me gently on the floor. My knees folded. I nearly fell. The room spun. My heart was pounding in my chest.

  Dr. Maniac landed beside me. “Sorry,” he repeated. “My mistake.”

  I swallowed. “Mistake?”

  “You’re not my archenemy — are you?!”

  “No,” I said, starting to feel a little more normal. “I told you — I’m Richard Dreezer. That’s my brother, Ernie. And she’s my friend Bree.”

  “Don’t say friend,” Bree said. “We’re in the same class at school. That doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

  Dr. Maniac studied us. He had one blue eye and one brown eye. They rolled crazily in his head. He scratched his hair again.

  “I’m very confused,” he said. “All these statues and displays and comic book covers … Where am I?”

  “Whoa. I’m confused, too,” I said. “I mean, you’re not real! You’re a comic book character.”

  He gasped. “Huh? I’m not real? Are you kidding me?”

  He raised a gloved hand and pinched his cheek. “Ouch. Hey, if I’m not real, how come I just pinched myself and it hurt?”

  I shrugged. “Beats me.”

  He grabbed the top of my head. “Let’s see if I’m real enough to spin your head like a top.”

  “No — please!” I backed out of his grasp.

  “Hey, wait. Here’s a good test,” Maniac said. He bent and scooped up something in one glove. He raised it to me. A fat brown cockroach.

  He shoved it to my mouth. “Go
ahead. Eat this,” he said. “Eat it. Let’s see if it’s real.”

  “Yuck. No way.” I tried to back up and stumbled over Ernie.

  “Eat it,” Dr. Maniac insisted. He pushed the disgusting bug toward my mouth.

  Ernie laughed. “Go ahead. Eat the cockroach, Richard. Eat it! Eat it!”

  “Shut up,” I told him. “Just be quiet.”

  “Oh, forget the whole thing,” Maniac said. He popped the cockroach into his mouth. Bug juice squirted from his lips. “Mmm. Not bad. Kind of crunchy. Tastes like chicken.”

  Ernie laughed at him. “You’re crazy!”

  Maniac swallowed the cockroach. “I’m not crazy. I’m a MANIAC!” He tossed back his head and laughed.

  Bree leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “This museum project isn’t working out. Maybe Mrs. Callus will change her mind and let me work alone.”

  Before I could answer her, I heard a loud SQUISH. Then wet sucking sounds. THWUCK THWUCK THWUCK.

  I turned to the front and saw another comic book character. He was squirming out from under the welcome desk. The big dude crawled across the floor on his hands and knees. He was covered from head to foot in thick mucus. And he moved in a wide, sticky puddle of goo.

  Slugmaster Slime!

  Dr. Maniac stepped in front of us as we watched the evil Slugmaster inch his way to the museum doors. He moved slowly, leaving a wet trail behind him.

  “You’re disgusting!” Dr. Maniac shouted at him. “Someone should step on you!”

  “Come over here and try it.” Slugmaster’s voice came from deep in his throat. It sounded drippy and hoarse, like he had a really bad cold.

  “I’d step on you and put you out of your misery,” Maniac shouted. “But I don’t want to get my boots sticky.”

  “Come over here and I’ll slime your face!” Slugmaster croaked.

  I watched in shock as the sticky supervillain crawled along his trail of mucus. He slowly disappeared out the door.

  “He isn’t real, either,” I told Dr. Maniac. “None of this is happening. Maybe I’m having a nightmare.”

  “Well, let me out of your dream!” Bree cried. She started to the door — but stopped when another character rose up from behind the front desk.

  He was big, broad shouldered. His head was huge and his face was as red as a tomato. His muscles bulged in his costume — purple tights and top, purple cape, purple helmet over his eyes.