Captain Nobody by Dean Pitchford Page B

pavement when, from out of my backpack, I heard: “Captain Nobody? It’s JJ! Do you read me? Over!”
    â€œNow what?” I groaned to myself.
    â€œCaptain Nobody, I need your help!” JJ yelled. “Please come in. Or answer. Or whatever you’re supposed to say. Over.” After a pause, she continued. “I’m serious. Captain Nobody, I wouldn’t be calling if this wasn’t really, really important, and since this is the first time I’m asking for anyth—”
    I couldn’t stand it! I ripped the walkie-talkie from my backpack and hit the button. “Captain Nobody speaking! Over.”
    â€œOh, thank goodness you’re there! This is an emergency, I’m not kidding. Meet me immediately in front of Sullivan’s Jewelry Store on Duncan Street. Over.”
    â€œActually, JJ,” I said, “I’m supposed to go right home today. Sorry. Over.”
    â€œBut you don’t understand.” JJ was whining now. “The most horrible thing has happened, and, oh, my god. . . . Nooooo!” JJ suddenly screamed.
    I gasped as my walkie-talkie went dead. I shook it and punched the buttons, yelling, “JJ! JJ? Do you read me? Come in, JJ! Over,” but there was no longer any signal.
    I had no choice. I sprinted off toward Sullivan’s Jewelry Store, terrified of what I would find when I got there.

15
    IN WHICH BAD SPELLING LEADS TO SOMETHING WORSE

    I zigzagged through backyards and alleys to get to Duncan Street as fast as my silver sneakers would carry me. There I found JJ standing at the curb in front of Sullivan’s Jewelry Store, her face buried in her hands.
    â€œJJ!” I panted as I raced to her side. “What’s wrong?”
    â€œOh, I don’t even know where to start,” she moaned.
    â€œStart at the beginning,” I suggested, trying to sound calm in the middle of what was surely a ghastly tragedy.
    She shook back her hair and cleared her throat. “Okay. It all began with that.” She pointed to Sullivan’s front window, where rows of sparkling rings and racks of colorful necklaces were on display.
    â€œWhat am I looking at?”
    â€œThe sign!” she wailed. “That horrible, handwritten sign.”
    It read:

ASK ABOUT OUR 24 CARROT GOLD!
    â€œThat’s not how you spell ‘karat,’” I said automatically.
    â€œExactly!” JJ practically shrieked through clenched teeth. “And don’t even get me started about the one over there.”
    She gestured to another card:

EVERY NECKLESS ON SALE.
    â€œOuch,” I winced.
    â€œRight?” JJ shouted. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone in there and tried to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan, but do they listen? Do they correct these crimes against the language? No! They only say, ‘Thank you and good-bye, little girl.’”
    I was starting to get annoyed. “And you’re upset because of a few spelling mista—”
    â€œOh, if only that were all!” she cut me off. “Even as I stood here, talking to you on Cecil’s walkie-talkie, look what Mr. Sullivan just slipped in, not five minutes ago!”
    A piece of white cardboard leaning against the opposite display window proclaimed

ALL EARRING’S HALF OFF!!!
    â€œSo?” I asked in disbelief. “He misplaced an apostrophe, and you screamed?”
    â€œOh, tell me you’re not horrified!” JJ exploded.
    â€œI’m not,” I shrugged.
    â€œBut it’s so wrong! If I have to pass by one more day and see these . . . these massacres of grammar and spelling, I’m going to have to find another way to walk to school.”
    I was speechless until JJ finally asked, “So will you talk to them?”
    â€œMe?” I cried. “Why me?”
    JJ threw her arms up. “You’re Captain Nobody! ‘Defender of the little guy, champion of the downtrodden. ’