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THE ADVENTURES OF I-GIRL
CHAPTER ONE
HOW I BECAME I-GIRL
“’Bye, Mom!” I yell as I slam the door. “I’m taking Mindy with me.”
We’re going skating.
“Dinner in half-an-hour, Honey” my Mom calls from the kitchen. “Come right in when you see your Father’s car. And please be careful!”
I’ve been skating for two months, ever since my parents gave me a set of inline skates for my birthday. Not just the skates, but the whole outfit-- plastic helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, wrist protectors. I’m getting pretty good, and I’m practicing a new trick.
“Hi-yaw, Mindy!” I call, to our 8-year-old St. Bernard. She gives me a big doggie-smile. She knows what’s coming. As I’m putting on her leash, I hear a car door slam, and an engine start. I should be paying attention to it.
We start down the block, Mindy pulling me along. This is my new trick: “Walking the Dog on Roller Skates.” Mindy loves it; we both go a lot faster this way.
Less than half a block from home, I hear it: “Hwah-hoo-hoo. Hwah-haw-hoo.” I see this dirty little kid. He is maybe two years old, sitting on a sewer grate, crying his eyes out. He is also sitting right under the wheel of a car that was slowly backing up right on top of him. Apparently the driver can't see him or hear him.
“Look out!” I shout at the driver, waving my free arm like a maniac. “Hey! Stop the car!” But she doesn’t see or hear me either, and in a moment I’m already past her. Pretty soon I’ll be past the car, and the kid, and we’ll have a disaster on our block.
Everything next happens in about a second or less.
I let Mindy go; she keeps on running, surprised to be free of the leash. At the same time, I hear a scream from somewhere about two blocks ahead of me.
I put on the brakes, and bend over to pick the little kid up. As I start to reach out for him, I realize I haven’t actually come to a complete stop, and when I grab him, the extra weight kind of propels me forward. I end up speeding up even more, overbalancing, and come seriously close to falling on my nose, in the street, right in back of the car.
Suddenly, the little kid half-jumps, half-climbs me until he is clutching me around the neck with his arms, and holding on tight with his legs. I feel like I have been grabbed by a giant starfish. But this re-balances me, and suddenly I'm standing straight up, holding this dirty little kid, going fast down the sidewalk. From a distance, it probably looks like I planned it: scoop up the kid as I fly by. It probably looks almost graceful.
Now looking straight ahead, I see the source of the scream: the kid's mom, still screaming, and running top speed in my direction. But I’m going faster than she is.
Like I say, all in about one second.
Mindy is now sitting on a neighbor’s lawn, watching me with doggie curiosity. She’s never had an opportunity for freedom like this before, and doesn’t know what to do with it.
“Good girl, Mindy!” I call out to her as I fly past.
Just beyond Mindy, we fly off the curb, and zoom across the street. I jump up the opposite curb, a little shaky, but unbelievably still staying on my feet. Then I start braking hard, and meet the mom in the middle of the next block. The kid makes almost a flying leap from me to his mom, grabbing her in the exact same starfish-neck lock. Like I say, it couldn't have been more impressive if I had planned it.
OK, it would have been more impressive if I had actually planned any of it.
"Oh, thank you, thank you. That was incredible! If you hadn't been there, I don’t now what would have happened. I only looked away for a moment. He has never been able to open the front door before! Oh, when I think of what could have happened! I am so grateful you were there! Thank you! That was incredible!"
“Momma,” says Dirty Little Kid.
I feel great! I feel like a super-hero! Standing there in my Barbie-pink one-piece swimsuit, plastic helmet, skating boots, knee-pads, arm-pads, and wrist-guards, I practically look like a super-hero. At least in my own mind.
For the rest of the year, I ride all over town on my skates (and in my head) as Incredible Girl, doing good, righting wrongs, helping the helpless, and most of all, not falling on my bum. At least, not a lot. All I need to top it all off is a cape.
In fact, the next Halloween, our housekeeper, Mrs. Chaves, finds me a cape: white with gold trim. Come to think of it, she probably sewed it for me herself. When I go trick-or-treating that year, I am on my skates as Incredible Girl!
Back to my big rescue. Mrs.Dirty Kid's Mom finishes thanking me, and with tears running from her eyes, rips into Little Dirty Kid.
"Never go outside without me! Never open the door by yourself! It is so dangerous! You could have been hurt! I was so worried! How could you do this to me?" She goes from tearful worry to flaming fury, before I can even blink. Little Dirty Kid starts crying again, and cries all the way home.
I feel bad. What does he know? I mean, he’s still in diapers! It kind of spoils the moment for me.
Of course, the next year, Disney comes out with the Incredibles movie, and spoils everything. Nobody understands at all when I tell them I am secretly Incredible Girl.
“What? You turn invisible?”
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