Sidekick Simmons: Enemies and Allies: Part 1, Book 1

By PM Paggy

There’s nothing super about Simon Simmons—except that he works for a superhero. 12-year-old Simon has been chosen to become the assistant to the Amazing Miraculous, the superhero for North America. Unfortunately, Simon has never paid much attention to the details of superheroes’ lives, so he gets a crash course when he and his family move into the superhero’s main lair.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483532660

Book preview

Simon

Pre Chapter

I have never run this fast in my life, and it’s not fast enough. The ground keeps shaking, cracking beneath my feet, and swaying from side to side. The floor, wall, ceiling, and everything in between is a solid block of ice. I really should just give up now. I can hear icicles crashing down all around me like glass shattering against cement. I can barely make out the opening ahead of me through the frost that has formed on my eyelashes. I slip for the fiftieth time. Every time I fall, it takes me just a bit longer to get up and get going again. I try to balance myself by putting my hands against the walls, but I’m pretty sure my fingers are frozen, because I can’t feel anything. I am not really breathing so much anymore as I am taking gasps of freezing cold air. I only take a breath when I finally decide that sucking in another mouthful of the ice-cold air is better than not breathing at all. This really stinks. I can’t believe I have to do this.

When I slip for the fifty-first time, I can’t keep my feet on the ground and I go flying. I land so hard on my back, the wind is knocked out of me, and I immediately start sliding toward a large chunk of ice. I slam into it with the side of my head. It’s even harder to get up this time, but I groan and give it my best shot, catching a glimpse of the ceiling in the process. An icicle the size of a baseball bat is plummeting right at me. I can’t push myself away fast enough on the slick ground. The ice bat lands like a dart in the middle of my left thigh. It’s pure ice, but it feels like fire. My entire body erupts in pain. Even though I can hear myself shouting the most horrible words I can say, my mind has gone somewhere else. It’s a happy place. There are trees, sun, and no ice or superheroes.

I guess I always knew it would end up like this. That’s why I never wanted the stupid position in the first place. I just keep thinking over and over, it figures. It figures I would be the last one out of this miserable place. It figures I would end up in severe pain, and it figures that, eventually, I’ll get blamed for everything bad that happened.

My name is Simon Simmons, and I’m an assistant to a superhero.

Chapter 1

Less than a month ago, this woman with wavy red hair opened my classroom door. We looked up as she walked in with this creature, like a house cat, only longer and not as tall. It was dark grey with black stripes and polka dots. I’d never seen anything like it. Kids gasped with excitement as if they knew exactly what the animal was and why it was there.

Class, stay in your seats, Mrs. West, my teacher, said. Try not to make a lot of noise. We’re going to let the genet do its job. I want you all to observe it, though. They are fascinating animals!

She used her teacher voice—that calm, stern tone—but she had a big smile on her face. Some of the kids were having trouble sitting still. A few bounced their legs and others practically jumped out of their seats, like they were trying to get the creature’s attention. Apparently, everyone knew what was going on but me.

The weird-looking animal seemed to be following a scent; its little nose was moving rapidly. First, it walked to the back of the classroom. I’d done the same thing earlier when I’d forgotten my seat had been changed. Then, it moved to the pencil sharpener. I’d sharpened my pencil earlier because we were getting ready for a pop quiz over prepositions. Next, it wandered over to the windows. That was strange. . . . I’d done that, too. I’d wanted to see if I could wave to my best friend, Matias. His class was across the courtyard. Then the bug-eyed thing came toward the desks . . . toward my desk . . . my desk . . . following my smell? It had been following me. I knew that could not be good; it just couldn’t be.

I sat perfectly still, with my hands folded neatly on my desk, facing forward. But I couldn’t stop my eyes from following the genet, which was moving straight toward me. It weaved around desk legs and people legs until it reached my desk. Suddenly, I realized the whole room had gone silent. The creature raised itself on its hind legs until its head was even with the top of my desk. It looked directly at me, forcing me to stare back at it.

Will you hold your hand out? The red-headed woman asked me.

Why? I asked suspiciously.

Everyone in class gasped.

The woman looked surprised. He won’t hurt you, I promise. He just wants to smell you.

I stared at her. It was easy for her to say; it wasn’t her hand. I didn’t see why I should let an odd-looking creature smell my hand and why no one else saw how weird it was. I wished I could just take the preposition test.

I don’t want to, I said politely.

Please cooperate, dear. Mrs. West sounded embarrassed.

I sighed and stuck out my hand. As I did, everyone leaned forward in their chairs. I watched the genet closely as he sniffed, his nose barely touching my hand. He smelled the top and the bottom of each finger, then a little up my wrist and arm. When the genet was finished, he slid back down to the floor, walked over to the red-headed woman, and sat on her feet. She looked down at the genet and then up at me. For a while, she stared at me. The other kids were staring at me, and my teacher was staring at me, too. It was very awkward.

Finally, the red-haired woman spoke, What is your name?

Simon . . . Simmons, I added because it seemed like a first and last name moment.

Simon Simmons, she said slowly, with a weird smile and a nod. Will you come with me?

I stayed in my seat. Then, I caught the looks of some of the kids sitting around me. Their faces showed jealousy and hatred mixed together. I decided it would be better to go with her than stay with them. I got up and tried to avoid the glares from my classmates.

Mrs. West was bubbling over with excitement. She was from Minnesota; normally, it was hard to hear her accent, but the faster she talked, the stronger it got.

Oh my goodness. Oh, this is so exciting. I just can’t believe in my class, the next . . . I can’t even say it. And today of all days! Who’d have thought something this miraculous would happen on a Tuesday! Oh, Simon, I’m just so proud of you. I can’t believe it. I will be sure to call your parents. I’ll call them personally. I, myself, will call them to give them the news. Oh my goodness, Simon! What a great day this is! Oh—

She was still going as the red-headed woman led me out of the classroom. We started walking silently down the hallway with the little not-a-cat scampering behind us.

Are you feeling overwhelmed or lucky? she asked.

Um, lucky, I guess. But I think I would’ve done okay on the quiz.

What quiz?

The preposition quiz you just got me out of. Why else would I feel lucky? I paused. Where are we going?

She stopped. Do you really not know?

I shook my head.

You have no idea what that is or who I am? she asked, gesturing toward the genet, then herself.

No. I was beginning to think she might be crazy. Not crazy meaning cool, but crazy like she lived in a basement full of rotting fruit because she loved the smell.

I’m Ellen Owens. She paused, maybe thinking I would know her after she told me her name.

Hi, I said awkwardly.

I work for the Amazing Miraculous.

"What?" I asked, stunned that someone who worked for a superhero was in my school.

Come this way, please.

She led me to a room that was empty except for two chairs and a water dish. She asked me to have a seat and then left. She was only gone for a moment. When she came back, I sat in one chair, she sat in the other, and the genet sat next to the water dish.

I’m going to ask you a few questions, she started. What do you know about superheroes?

Not much, I answered. Ellen looked at me expectantly, so I went on: I know they have super powers. I know there is one per continent and they each have a sidekick. I know the Amazing Miraculous lives somewhere in Wichita, Kansas. Um, that’s about it.

Let me start then by telling you a little more about the Amazing Miraculous. He has incredible eyesight and hearing. He can jump incredibly high and far. His most important ability, though, is his infinite strength and durability.

I thought all superheroes were indestructible.

They can all withstand a lot, but they’re not indestructible. The Amazing Miraculous is the strongest, which is why he can take more than the others.

I frowned. How do you know that for sure?

Excuse me? She leaned forward.

How can you be sure he can take more than the other superheroes?

She looked confused. Because the lives of superheroes are well documented.

Oh, okay. I thought maybe there was some superhero contest the public didn’t know about. That would be cool.

Moving on. She cleared her throat. Superheroes, as capable as they are, cannot do everything on their own. In addition to sidekicks, there is a weapons inventor, a personal doctor, a household manager, a cook, a trainer, and a PR person. Some superheroes also employ people to work in their corporate offices, like accountants and lawyers.

But not the Amazing Miraculous?

"No. To fund his work, he poses for ads. There are hundreds of companies who want him to endorse their products. He has his picture taken next to their buildings or wearing their sneakers or taking their cough syrup.

Cough syrup? I asked, surprised. Can he get sick?

She crossed her hands over her chest. I’m actually not certain.

Huh. It would be funny if superheroes could get colds like regular people.

Who is you favorite superhero?

I don’t have one.

Her expression was impossible to describe. It was like she was going through a list of questions, only I wasn’t giving the right answers. Ever since I was little, I was told that I was really bad at lying. So I told the truth, even if it wasn’t what people wanted to hear.

If you could have any super power, what would it be?

The ability to make annoying people stop talking, I replied.

She breathed in sharply.

I didn’t mean you! I corrected quickly. I just think certain people talk too much sometimes. And most of the people that talk too much are the people I want to hear the least. Seriously, I’ve talked about it with some of the guys on my baseball team.

Ellen changed the subject. Sidekicks have to start off as assistants. Then, one day, if they’ve trained hard enough, they’ll save their superhero’s life and become a sidekick.

What happens if an assistant never saves a superhero’s life? Would they just stay an assistant forever?

She thought for a moment. I’m not sure. It’s never happened before.

Oh. Saving someone’s life, that’s a lot of pressure.

It’s not an easy job, but it’s an unbelievable opportunity. Simon, would you like to be a sidekick someday?

No, I said flatly.

There was an awkward pause.

I’m sorry? she said as if she hadn’t heard me.

No, I don’t want to be an assistant or a sidekick someday—or any day, I added.

She squinted at me as if I was a picture she couldn’t quite make out. Why not?

"I would have to constantly risk my life for total strangers. I’d be in really dangerous situations daily. If I make a mistake now, I get grounded. If I mess up as a sidekick, someone might die, and then I’d feel guilty all the time. More than likely, I would get hurt a lot. I would get bossed around by a superhero. People all over the world would be watching everything I do and criticizing it. Who would want that job? Plus, I’m twelve. And that seems like more responsibility than I should have."

You sound like you don’t have a lot of respect for superheroes. She sounded puzzled.

I respect them. I just don’t respect them anymore than I respect non-superheroes. Like doctors, firefighters, police officers, and other people who do heroic things.

You don’t find superheroes a little more intriguing than firefighters and police officers?

No.

Why is that?

I thought for a moment. "First of all, they don’t earn their powers. I don’t know how each superhero came to be a superhero, but I know it wasn’t something they had to work for. They didn’t go to school or train or get voted in to it. They were just in the right place at the right time. And secondly, they’re not really risking their lives—I mean not really. I know they can get hurt, but no superhero has ever been killed before, so I assume it’s almost impossible to kill them. The only person that could kill a superhero is probably another superhero, and why would they do that? It’s great that they choose to help people. They could choose to sit around and do nothing. But it’d be like finding someone interesting for having brown hair or blue eyes. They didn’t choose to have those things."

I trailed off. It occurred to me that as much as I didn’t want to work for a superhero, I didn’t necessarily want to have one mad at me either.

Again, there was an awkward pause. This one seemed to last for days. I looked around the room and drummed my fingers on the side of the chair, waiting for her to say something. Half of Ellen’s mouth curved upward in a smile, twitching like she was trying to hide it, then disappeared.

You would be immortal, you know—well, immortal for all intents and purposes.

What do you mean by ‘intents and purposes’?

"You were right that most superheroes are very difficult to kill. They also do not age. If the Amazing Miraculous dies, then his sidekick can die. Sidekicks and assistants are still susceptible to injury, and a severe injury could kill them. But injuries will not hurt them nearly as much as they would a normal person, and they heal twice as fast. Sidekicks and assistants stop aging for as long as they serve a superhero. They could, at least in theory, live forever."

That intrigued me. What about my family?

Your parents would come and live with the Amazing Miraculous. The same applies to them as applies to you. As long as he is alive and you’re serving him, they will not age. Unfortunately, they would not have the same durability that you have. Do you have any brothers or sisters?

No, I said.

She nodded knowingly, as if that explained something.

Could I still see my friends?

She hesitated. You will be very busy. But the Amazing Miraculous has been on his own for almost two years now. I’m sure he could spare you from time to time to see your friends. They will not ever be allowed in his lair, though, you understand. Its location and how to enter it must remain a secret.

I nodded. I imagined he didn’t want a neon sign above it saying Superhero Lives Here. I didn’t know if staying twelve forever was a good thing. And I really didn’t think I’d like following some guy around just because he was super. Plus, there was all that danger and stuff.

I need to talk to my parents about it.

Simon Simmons . . . Her hand covered her mouth as if she was trying not to laugh. I am so glad we found you. Go home. Talk to your parents. Tell them I will be coming over to your house later today. Oh, and Simon . . . this is a big decision. Many people will offer you their opinions. If I were you, I would only discuss it with the people whose opinions really matter to you.

She stood up and made a gesture at the creature. He crawled up her leg and came to rest around her shoulders. She smiled at me again and left. Once she was gone, I sat there, unsure of what to do. The bell had rung at some point during our conversation, meaning it was lunch time. I decided to go find Mrs. West, since she said she would call my parents. I stood up, headed toward the door, and then hesitated. I could hear people on the other side, a lot of people. I pushed the door open and was instantly pulled into a swarm of middle school students, all asking a million questions.

Chapter 2

Why did they pick you?

That question was the one I heard the most often and from the most people. It was also one of the only questions I understood. The questions just kept coming, flung from all directions, all at the same time. Kids were shoving each other to get closer to me. The whole hallway seemed to be alive with all the people squished together. I didn’t know what do in all the chaos. Suddenly, someone grabbed my wrist and started to pull. I started to pull away until I felt the gentle and repeated squeezing around my wrist. There was pressure from four fingers, not five. It was Matias.

Where are we going? I shouted above the noise.

Just go with it, bro! I’ll get you there! he shouted back.

We waded through the mob an inch at a time. Finally, Matias pulled me closer to him with one hand while opening the door to the gym with the other. He swung me inside, using his body as a human shield. When we were in the gym, he slammed the door and locked it.

I looked at him gratefully. Thanks, man.

Matias was too cool to be my friend. He was one of those kids who seemed to have everything figured out. He was an athlete, good in school, and fluent in English and Spanish. Girls giggled when they saw him walk by—and not in a bad way. He always knew just the right thing to say in every situation, and he was funny. We became friends in kindergarten. He wasn’t so perfect then. He was chubby, like me, and he had glasses and a bit of lisp. Eventually, he lost weight, got contacts, and saw a speech therapist. I stayed chubby and, well, not as cool. Matias was friends with everyone, but I was his only best friend. Honestly, if I hadn’t liked Matias so much, I probably would’ve hated him for having everything so together.

Interesting day, huh? he said, his brown eyes widening.

He smiled as he ran his hands through his long, jet-black hair, which had gotten ruffled while we were moving through the crowd. I frowned back at him. How did he know? How did everyone know? I was about to answer him when someone cleared their throat behind me. It was our principal, Mr. Kramden. The short, blond man stared at me with beady eyes. His ugly, brown suit clashed horribly with his lime green tie with yellow patches. His ties were always awful.

That is all, Mr. Garcia; you may go. Thank you, he said in his gruff voice that always sounded like it was talking down to us; my dream super power would come in handy with people like Mr. Kramden.

Mr. Kramden, I would really like it if Matias stayed. I wasn’t sure what Mr. Kramden wanted, exactly, but I felt a lot better having Matias with me.

He smiled that you’re-too-dumb-to-know-what’s-good-for-you smile and cleared his throat again. Before he had a chance to talk, Mrs. West spoke, startling us all.

Maybe it’s better if he does stay. Oh, Lionel, this is such a big day for Simon; it would probably help to have a friend close by. She gave Matias a warm smile.

Matias returned her smiled then patted me on the back. I’ll stay as long as Simon needs me.

And miss as many classes as it takes, I’m sure. Mr. Kramden said dryly.

Mrs. West was upbeat. I understand both Matias and Simon are doing very well so far this year. A little time out of class won’t set either one of them back too far.

Very well. Mr. Kramden looked annoyed. Mr. Simmons, what exactly did you discuss with the woman who took you out of class?

I hesitated. Ellen told me not to discuss it with people whose opinions I didn’t care about. Mr. Kramden’s opinion really didn’t matter to me—or to most people.

I’m not supposed to discuss it, I said.

He took a few calm, deliberate steps toward me, each one echoing around the gym. Is that so?

Yes, sir. I shrugged my shoulders. She said I was supposed to talk about it with my parents first.

He looked at me skeptically. Mrs. West whispered something in his ear, and he answered with a curt nod.

You had better head home now. I don’t want my school in chaos. Mr. Garcia, you go with him. Leave by the back doors. He pointed to the rear of the gym.

Mrs. West put a hand on my arm. I’ll make sure your teachers know you both will be absent for the rest of the day. Simon, I called your parents. They should be meeting you at home.

Matias grinned at me. Let’s go, man.

Yeah, okay. . . .

As I followed him back to the door, I could feel Mr. Kramden’s eyes watching my every move. We left the gym as quickly as we could. Once we were outside, we made our way to the sidewalk and started walking toward my house.

What was going on with Mr. Kramden? I asked once the door had clicked shut.

The school is sure to get a whole lot of recognition if you turn out to be the next sidekick for the Amazing Miraculous. You could make Flat Land Middle School the most famous school in the world. Imagine how it would look to be the principal. I can see his office door now: Lionel Kramden, Principal, Former Educator to Simon Simmons, Sidekick, he said with an evil grin.

I groaned. Well, that’s reason enough not to do it. I don’t want to give him credit for anything.

Matias stopped walking and looked at me seriously. She did ask you, then. She asked you to become a sidekick?

Uh . . . I looked away uncomfortably.

I wanted to tell him, but even though there was no one around, I felt like people were listening to our conversation. Let’s talk about it when we get closer to my house.

He nodded in understanding. All right.

I can’t figure out how everyone knew who that lady was.

"Simon! Matias sighed in disbelief. She’s been on TV like a million times, ever since they announced she would be in charge of finding the next sidekick. And even if they didn’t recognize her, they would’ve recognized Mush Mush."

Mush Mush?

Yeah, the genet. You don’t see the Amazing Miraculous’ pet every day. They’ve been together forever.

Those genets must have a really long life span.

No man! He laughed. You just don’t know anything about this, do you?

Superheroes aren’t my thing, you know that. I mean, they’re cool and all and I’m glad they’re here, but so what? The world spun just fine before they existed.

You know how sidekicks don’t age as long as they serve a superhero?

I nodded. Ellen said that.

Well, the same thing goes for anyone, or anything, that lives in constant contact with a superhero. They don’t age either. His mom is still alive, he’s had the same cook for years, the same trainer, the same doc—

Okay, I get it! I started picking at the strings on the strap of my backpack. So wait, none of them age at all?

No. I don’t know how close they have to be to him or how it works, but I know his staff looks just like they did when they first started working for him.

And this Mush Mush thing, can what, smell sidekicks?

No one really knows how that works. But every superhero has an animal that picks out their sidekicks.

That doesn’t make sense.

Matias rubbed his forehead. Listen Simon, a lot of superhero stuff doesn’t make sense. We don’t really know how they can sniff out sidekicks because it doesn’t happen very often. And every superhero has a different animal. People aren’t sure if it’s just those animals or those species.

Some animals could sniff out drugs or bombs; Mush Mush tracked sidekicks. I wondered what we smelled like.

After we had walked a couple blocks, I figured it was safe to talk, so I told Matias